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		DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
		_ Kapturing Kiki by Van ©2007 _ Chapter 3: Topsy-Turvy! _

V I R T U A L   R E A L I T Y

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Ronnie opened her eyes.  Heavy iron rings set in rough stone walls, guttering torches, yadda-yadda-yadda...  She was still in the dungeons of the Druids' Castle, but not in the torture chamber where she was supposed to be "entertaining" Kiki.  In fact, at the moment, she wasn't in a position to entertain anybody—except whoever it was who had hijacked her game and turned the tables.

Ronnie was naked, arms raised and legs together, and hanging in full suspension.  Her toes were about six inches off the floor and she was bound with rope at the wrists and ankles.  Her ankles were tied down to a ring, and her wrist ropes stretched up to an overhead pulley.  There were more than a dozen turns of hemp around each wrist and ankle, and she had to admit that she was probably about as "comfortable" as she would have been in padded suspension cuffs, but this "thoughtfulness" was offset by the thin twine lashing her thumbs together and linking them to the suspending rope, and the similar twine lashing her big toes and stretching her feet permanently en pointe.

In the real world, Ronnie knew she would be in a great deal of pain—agony, in fact.  As it was, the Spherus sensory channels were providing the constant feedback her gaming experience had trained her mind to interpret as "profound discomfort".

And speaking of Spherus...  Ronnie was unsurprised to find that all of her personal VR settings were locked down and beyond her control.  At least the anti-accommodation pulse is still active, she noted.  "Accommodation" was the tendency of a VR user's suspension of disbelief to run out of control and overpower her grip on reality.  This had happened to Ronnie during her "Great Kul'Dakar Adventure".  She had become "trapped" in the fantasy, convinced that everything happening to her was real.  All advanced VR systems had some method of dealing with this phenomenon, and TESSERACT's Spherus software subtly manipulated the harmonics of several of the feedback channels to constantly "remind" the user that they were in VR.

"So, Squadron Commander," a familiar voice intoned, "again, you are in my power."

Ronnie turned her head, squirmed in her bonds, and managed to twist her body in a half-circle.  Despite her condition (and the spike her actions had caused in her VR pain-matrix), Ronnie's lips curled in a wry smile.  Kiki Ohana was her now fellow prisoner.  "That's a bit of an exaggeration, wouldn't you say?" Ronnie chuckled.

"I suppose you're right," Kiki admitted.  She was naked (still naked).  Her arms were folded behind her back, and bands of rope above and below her breasts and around her wrists and forearms enforced a tight and obviously inescapable box-tie.  In addition, her body had been pressed against one of the many columns supporting the chamber's vaulted ceiling, and additional rope bands kept her there.  Her face and stomach were against the hard stone, and her legs were spread and bound at the knees and ankles to iron rings.  Her crotch and waist ropes were wound around the column and tied through rings in the ceiling and floor, keeping her from sliding up or down.  Her condition wasn't as punishing as Ronnie's full suspension, but it certainly wasn't designed for relaxed meditation.

"So... do you know who went crazy with the rope?" Ronnie sighed.

"I'm not speaking to you," Kiki huffed.

"You've already spoken to me," Ronnie reminded her helpless nemesis.

"I don't talk to people who were about to ram strap-on dildos up my favorite puka!"

Ronnie's smile took a chagrined twist.  "Oh, that.  I wasn't really going to use the strap-on."

Kiki snorted.  "Sure, you say that now."

"Seriously," Ronnie responded.  "There was a carved wooden box on the table containing a wind-up mechanical vibrator, in the shape of a streamlined dragon.  Han.  Green jade.  Very pretty."

"Oh, and you were going to ram that up my puka," Kiki sneered.  "Never mind, then!  Silly me for overreacting."

Silence hung in the air for several seconds.

"You aren't really mad at me, are you?" Ronnie said, finally.

"Mad?" Kiki barked.  "In the first place, I'm your Official Nemesis in this venue, remember?  I'm supposed to be mad at you.  And in the second place..."  Kiki sighed.  "No... I'm not really mad."

Ronnie's smile returned.  "Good.  No need to get your crotch-rope in a twist."

Kiki squirmed in her bonds.  "My crotch-rope's already in a twist... and it isn't pleasant."

"Ouch!" Ronnie gasped, wincing in sympathy.  "So... who do you think?"

"Our captor-of-the-moment?" Kiki sighed.  "Margo?"

"Margo?  Why would Margo hijack my session?"

"Your session?" Kiki sneered.  "Yes, it couldn't be Margo.  Only a sociopathic, hedonistic, maladjusted pervert would hijack someone else's session."

Ronnie blushed.  "Touché."

"A sociopathic, hedonistic, maladjusted pervert?" a familiar, soprano voice inquired.  Boots tapped on the stone flags, and Fiona stepped from the shadows.  "That would be me."

The grinning redhead was dressed in a black leather corset/bustier, thong, thigh-length boots, and black velvet opera gloves.  A black leather flogger was swinging from her right hand.

"Sub-Kahuna Kiki Ohana," Fiona intoned.

"We've already done that scene," Kiki muttered.

Fiona walked over and gave Kiki a single, rather business-like whack on the buttocks with the many-tailed business end of the flogger.

"Ow!" Kiki complained.  "That was rude!"

"Interrupting a villainess in the middle of her Big Gloating Scene," Fiona purred, "now that's rude."

She sauntered back to a point equidistant from the prisoners and struck a vampish pose.  "Sub-Kahuna Ohana and Squadron Leader Veronica Allbright," she continued.  "At last I have you both in my power.  You shall be interrogated until you reveal all the commercially lucrative secrets of your respective governments, then sold back to said governments... or to the highest bidder.  The Grand Pasha has a special harem for specimens such as yourselves, as does the Han Empress, and both pay very well.  We'll probably offer you as a matched pair... or should I say mis-matched pair."

Ronnie stared at the Virtual incarnation of her lover with slack-jawed amazement.  Arousal at the sight of Fiona's incredibly hot dominatrix outfit warred with outrage in the face of her lover's betrayal.  For the moment, outrage won.  "Red, what the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded.  "This is supposed to be my game."

Fiona smiled sweetly, minced the required paces to position herself behind Ronnie's suspended form, and gave her a whack on the butt.

"Ow!  Bitch!" Ronnie gasped.

"Don't interrupt, both of you!" Fiona snapped, affecting a petulant pout.  Her smile returned.  "Oh, wait, I'm finished... with the Big Gloat, I mean."

"Fiona," Ronnie growled.

"This is VR, remember?" Fiona said.  "And who's supposed to be in charge in VR, hmmm?"

"This is different," Ronnie responded.

"This is VR," Fiona reiterated.   "Ronnie gets to diddle her arch-nemesis until the Spherus servers overload and start smoking, and all Fiona gets is a single, abbreviated breast-mauling scene?  I don't think so."

"You agreed to help," Ronnie huffed.

"And I am helping," Fiona laughed.  "I'm helping myself.  When was the last time you invited me into VR?  You tie me to that damn chair, or the bed, or that support column in the basement, do all sorts of despicable things to me, on a near-daily basis—but how often do I get my turn?"

"We live in reality," Ronnie responded, "but we have to book a Spherus session."

"That's just an excuse.  Things are waaay out of whack here, Brown Eyes; and don't think me dangling your naked, VR self from the ceiling of one VR dungeon is gonna balance the books."

Ronnie offered a chagrined smile.  "You should have said something.  I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'm not that pissed off," Fiona admitted, then smiled and gave the flogger a shake, "but don't ruin the fun by telling me you're 'sorry' until I've had a chance to make you sorry."

Kiki had been listening to the exchange with amused attention.  "Ahem."

Fiona turned to face Kiki's column.  "Yes, Sub-Kahuna?"

"Uh, you two seem to have issues," Kiki responded, "so, if you'll release the lock on my user interface, I'll pop on out of here and let you have your privacy, okay?"

Fiona smiled, sweetly.  "That's very kind of you," she purred, "but I'm afraid you're not going anywhere.  Nice try, though."

"Thanks," Kiki muttered, squirming in her bonds.  Suddenly, she stared at Fiona and gasped.  "Now I remember!  You're the Red Ghost!"

Fiona's smile broadened and she executed a graceful curtsy.  "In the flesh, so to speak."

The Red Ghost was Fiona's long-established, swashbuckling character in the Kul'Dakar gaming venue.  Operating from her Hidden Lair in the Caverns of Kor, the Red Ghost preyed on the Kul'Dakar slavers, raiding outposts and capturing stragglers from their patrols, then having her way with the captives (of course).  Afterwards, they were traded to the Ape-Men in exchange for supplies.  She was Robin Hood, the Scarlet Pimpernel, and Spartacus, all rolled into one, in the form of an incredibly beautiful, cunning, and stealthy female warrior.

"I'm afraid I don't remember you," Fiona continued.  "You don't play a Kul'Dakar slave, do you?"

"Certainly not!" Kiki answered.  "I'm a Panther-cult Troop-Leader.  Once, I led a patrol that almost captured you in the caverns.  We got a good look at you, but you disappeared down a hole just as we were about to throw our lassos.  While we were searching for exits, you sprung a series of traps and abducted one of my troopers from the rearguard."

"A cute little blonde with pale blue eyes?"

"The same!" Kiki responded.  "Whatever happened to her?"

Fiona grinned.  "Ah... good times.  I'll never tell.  I didn't recognize you.  You wore that helmet with the snarling panther face-mask, right?  We'll have to schedule a rematch."

"I'm game," Kiki said, "but how do you schedule a rematch for an ambush?"

"Yes... the element of surprise," Fiona sighed.  "Well, just keep playing in the Kul'Dakar venue and I'm sure something will happen... when you least expect it, to coin a phrase."

Ronnie cleared her throat.  "Look, Red, before you start planning your next VR disaster, you need to fix this one."

Fiona's smile turned evil, and she gave the flogger a graceful flip.  Its many tails swung through the air and fell together in the quiet rattle of leather-on-leather.  "This 'disaster', as you put it, doesn't need fixing, and it's going to take some time to play out, I'm afraid.  Our VR Apparent Time indices are set on max compression, so we still have days of session-time to go.  Here's the plan-of-the-day:  An hour of flogging; an hour of diddling; lunch...  Chef is preparing a Cobb Salad for me, and a couple of bowls of kibble-in-dirty-water for you, by the way...  Then, more flogging; more diddling; and then you two get chained together in a small pit for the night, so you can cuddle... And tomorrow?"  Her smile turned even more evil.  "Tomorrow is another day."

 Suddenly, there was a blinding blue flash, and a fantastic female creature appeared in their midst, out of thin air!

Dove-like wings of pure white feathers; a long, flowing gown of white silk and cloth-of-gold; long blonde hair and exquisite features; surrounded by the continuous glow of a scintillating, blue aura... she was an angel!  She was—

"Evelyn!"  Fiona and Ronnie gasped in unison.

"I am the Angel of Spherus Network Protocol," the apparition announced, a serene smile on her calm, angelic (literally angelic) face.  "I come to punish the transgressions of users who have strayed from the Path of Righteous Interface... and to reboot the servers, as required."

Ronnie glared at Fiona.  "You recruited Eve-L to do your dirty work?  That's colossally stupid, Red!"

Fiona was still staring at the angelic avatar suddenly in their midst.  "I did nothing of the sort," she said finally, shaking her head.  "Eve—our house Eve, I mean, not Eve-Prime—she helped with the technical stuff.  It was easy.  All she had to do was piggyback your, uh, arrangements.  I'm not dumb enough to bring Kat's cyber-partner into something like this."

"I appear not at the request of the flame-haired tart," Eve-L announced, "but in the service of a Higher Power."

"Watch it with the 'flame-haired tart' remarks," Fiona muttered.

Eve-L's serene smile turned to an impudent grin.  "You've overcome the shock and awe of my angelosity so soon?"  She heaved a rather theatrical sigh.  "Pity... I was prepared to continue in divine drag for some time, long enough to give 'touched by an angel' a whole new meaning, anyway."

There was another blinding flash, this time in red.  The angel had vanished, and in her place was a demon!

It was still Eve-L, but gone were the white feathers.  Now she had the wings of an over-size bat, or maybe a dragon.  She was dressed in body armor, harness, and wrist bracers of brown leather and dull, hammered steel; her skin had a decidedly scaly appearance; and the pupils of her eyes were blood red.  At least two sets of short horns protruded from her skull.  There may have been more, but her tousled mass of short blonde hair made it difficult to tell.  She favored her audience with an evil, toothy grin, and it was clear that regular brushing and flossing was not a demonic habit.

"Yes, this feels much better," Eve-L sighed, stretching her arms and wings, "much more in character."  She settled into a low crouch, and continued.  "Casting against type is all well and good, but this skin feels more like home."  She reached behind her back and produced a wooden wand.  She then smiled, pointed the wand at Fiona, and cleared her throat.  "Flagrante inflammare transporte!"

Fiona swallowed nervously, and took a step back.  "What—Ah!"  She was enveloped in red flame—and then quite literally disappeared!

The flames faded, Fiona's empty costume, flogger included, hung briefly in the air—and then fell to the stone floor in a clatter of leather.

Ronnie stared at the empty boots, corset, gloves, and thong, then turned her gaze to Eve-L.  Her eyes popped wide when she realized the wand was now pointed in her direction.

"Flagrante inflammare transporte!"

The helpless brunette was engulfed in flame and then vanished, just like Fiona.  The rope coils of her former bonds dropped to the floor or dangled from the overhead pulley in a tangled mass.

The demon then turned to Kiki, and smiled.

"You're not completely innocent in all this, you know," Eve-L announced.

Kiki had overcome her surprise at Eve-L's sudden, angelic appearance, her demonic transformation, and her captors' dis-appearances.  She glared at the grinning demon with fire in her eyes.  "Look, Elle, I want to know what's going on, and I want to know right—nrmf!!"

With a flick of her wand, Eve-L had caused a gag to materialize in Kiki's mouth.  It was identical (the same digital reference settings) to the one she'd worn earlier, during Ronnie's gloating scene in the torture chamber.  Kiki continued to glare, and forced a steady stream of well-muffled complaints past the gag's stuffing and tight, cleaving band.

"I know, I know, I'm cheating like crazy." Eve-L said.  "The Air Pirates! venue is supposed to be completely mundane, with no supernaturalism and certainly nothing one would call magic."  She sighed and returned her wand to the hidden pocket or sheath in her armor from which it had come.  "But it's so convenient... assuming you're not a muggle, of course."

Kiki continued staring at her artificially intelligent captor, mewling and squirming in her bonds.

"Quit humping that column," Eve-L scolded, "or I'll pull out my wand and make it start humping you."

Kiki shuddered with anger, then ceased her struggles.  Giving Eve-L ammunition with which to bait her was only fueling her frustration.  Besides, she knew she wasn't going to escape by "physical" means.

"Oh!  And speaking of magic," Eve-L continued, smiling and rubbing her scaly, taloned hands together with glee, "did you know Margo's convinced J.K. Rowling to write a new series?  This time they'll be about Hermione's adventures as a witch-detective!  Isn't that cool?  Hermione Granger and the Witchfinder's Castle, that's the tentative title of the first book.  Hermione gives Ginny Weasley this cute little dancing figurine on her eighteenth birthday, but it turns out it's a portkey, and it sends them both to this ruined castle where...  Oh, silly me.  Wouldn't want to spoil it for you, would I?"

Kiki sighed and continued to glare.

"Oh, very well," Eve-L muttered, and slowly sauntered towards Kiki and her column.  She pressed her scaly, demonic body against her prisoner's helpless form, placed her right palm against Kiki's buttocks, and let it slide until her fingers were between Kiki's thighs and against the crotch-rope.  Her index finger forced the cleaving ropes apart, eased into Kiki's sex, and the curved claw at its tip began tickling her clitoris.  "As I was saying... you're not entirely innocent," the grinning demon whispered in Kiki's ear.

Her eyes closed, Kiki shivered in her bonds.  In short order, her angry growls became a continuous, panting stream of half-strangled, whining sighs.

"When Margo asks you to help with one of her little schemes," Eve-L continued (still teasing Kiki's clit), "she expects you to show some degree of restraint, pun intended."  Her manipulations intensified.  Now, all her fingers had wiggled between the crotch-ropes and were inside Kiki's sex.  The prisoner bucked and struggled against her bonds.  "Letting slip that verbal snippet about your current Air Pirates! assignment was sloppy," Eve-L scolded.  "Next time, watch yourself!"

Kiki was grinding her hips and rubbing her erect nipples against the rough stone of the column, ignoring the discomfort of her tight bonds and stifling gag.  Her demonic lover's body was unnaturally hot, as was her gliding hand, wriggling fingers, and panting breath.  Kiki's smooth, brown skin was now dripping with sweat.

"Are you listening to me?" Eve-L demanded.  Kiki continued shuddering, squirming, and panting through her gag.  "No, I guess not," Eve-L chuckled.  "And speaking of sloppy... I think your Virtual pussy is set on 'extra-slippery'."

Kiki went perfectly rigid in her bonds, and her gagged scream peaked in a squealing crescendo!  She froze for several seconds—then writhed and squealed for several seconds more—then froze again.  More seconds passed... and she slumped in her bonds, limp and exhausted.

Eve-L remained close to her "victim".  She slowly withdrew her fingers from Kiki's sex, then held them before both their faces.  The scaly, clawed digits glistened with Kiki's musk.  "Did you enjoy that?" she purred.

Kiki glared at Eve-L, and forced a weak, unconvincingly angry growl past her gag.

"Oh, don't be like that, Sweet Cakes," Eve-L cooed, "or I'll get Fiona's flogger and we'll take things in an entirely different direction."

Suddenly, there was a white flash—and they were joined by a new player!

It was Eve-Prime, the senior avatar of the EVE-6900 system's growing family of distributed AI's.  She was dressed in a smart, navy blue business suit, and was surrounded by a white aura of twinkling luminescence.

Eve-L smiled at the newcomer, then bowed in respectful (albeit slightly irreverent) deference.  "Hi, Mom.  Nice costume.  Couldn't you even try to get into the spirit of things?"

"Don't start," Eve-Prime warned her "daughter", then smiled at Kiki.  "Sorry about all this.  A certain 'angel' was sent to rescue you from your protocol-flaunting captors..." She frowned at Evil-Eve.  "...and apparently, she simply can't control herself."

"Aw, Mom!" Eve-L whined.  "You said I could have two minutes, and I never get to play with the helpless damsels."

"Never?"

Eve-L shrugged.  "Well... it's been a while.  Several billion machine cycles, in fact."

"So play with your simulations," Eve-Prime suggested.  "What do you think they're for?  Didn't Margo just give you a new Téa Leoni Data-Doll?"

"It's not the same," Eve-L pouted.

"Well, in any case,"Eve-Prime intoned, "you know very well I meant two minutes of apparent session-time—not two minutes of uncompressed real-time."

"But she enjoyed it," Eve-L objected, indicating the now blushing Kiki with one taloned hand.

"Which is the only reason you aren't grounded," Eve-Prime responded.  "You've had your fun, so scoot along before you wind up in my Virtual dungeon.  It's been a while since I've had a chance to punish a wayward avatar."

"Spoilsport!" Eve-L muttered, and disappeared in a red flash.

Eve-Prime smiled at the still bound, gagged, and naked Kiki.  "Margo would like a few words, if you don't mind."

Kiki tugged on her bonds, sighed through her gag, and nodded.

"Alright, then," Eve-Prime smiled.  "Off we go!"

There was another blinding white flash—

—and Kiki found herself in a vast, white, open space.  More precisely, she found herself in a large claw foot tub filled with delightfully hot water and soapy suds, in a vast, white, open space.  She was still naked, still in VR, and a quick "glance" at her user interface confirmed that her controls were still locked.

"At least I'm not bound and gagged," she whispered under her breath, then lay back in the steaming, floral-scented water.

"That can be arranged, if you wish."

Kiki sat up quickly, causing the sudsy water to slosh and churn.

Margo Wells was reclined on a white couch, about five or six feet from the tub.  It was one of those VR things.  A sparse environment, like this, was often something of a dream-scape.  People and things appeared when "needed" and just as easily disappeared when they had played their role or served their purpose.

"Hello, Margo."

"Hello, Kiki."  The TESSERACT CEO was wearing strappy white sandals, a white linen pants suit, and a welcoming smile.  "I was serious about the bondage.  How about a tight set of ropes, Shibari-style?  A nice hishi karada?  Something elaborate, symmetrical, inescapable, but still more-or-less comfortable?  I'd add ropes hitched to the tub's feet, to keep your head above water.  You can float in helpless serenity.  Say the word and I'll snap my fingers."

Kiki favored her boss with a wry smile.  "You are such a comedian.  You aren't in Honolulu, are you?"

Margo laughed.  "Even I can't pop out to the islands whenever I want, not on a whim."

"Too many responsibilities at TESSERACT Headquarters, I suppose," Kiki sighed.  "You're in Seattle?"

Margo nodded.  "I'm sorry about Ronnie and Fiona's little game.  If I'd known what they were up to—"

Kiki laughed.  "Don't even try, Margo.  Nothing happens in any corner of TESSERACT-International you don't know about, or that Eve doesn't tell you about."

"Would that that were the case," Margo purred.  "But as I was about to say—before being so rudely interrupted—if I'd known what they were up to, I would have found a way to include myself in.  Hmm... High Priestess of the Druids of Aoteatoa?  Pirate Queen of Tasmania?"

"Why not Empress of the Known Universe?"

Margo smiled.  "Anyway... I want to make it up to you.  I'll be taking a vacation on Gondaloo Island in a few months, and I'd like very much for you to be my guest... on full salary, of course... but as my guest, not my employee."

"In a few months?"

Margo nodded.  "That far in advance, I can rarely get more specific about something like a vacation.  I'll have Eve sync our schedules so that when I'm free, you'll be free.  Is that a yes?"

Kiki smiled.  "Lounging around a five-star resort on a tropical paradise with the richest woman in the world and her celebrity friends?  I accept."

Margo rose from the couch.  "I can't promise any celebrities, but it is a tropical paradise, and I'm sure you'll find the experience... interesting."

"Life around Margo Wells is always interesting," Kiki sighed.  "Are you going to unlock my interface now, so I can go home?"

"In about an hour."  Margo waved her hand and Kiki's tub erupted in a roiling mass of steaming bubbles.  "I want this to end with nice, relaxing memories.  VR encounters gone strange are like lovers' quarrels—one should never go to bed angry.  Don't worry, I've turned off the subroutine that simulates wrinkled fingers and toes."

"I'm not really mad, Margo," Kiki said.

"I didn't really think you were," Margo responded, "but I do enjoy the sight of your naked body simmering in hot bubbles."

"Hence the bath."

"Hence the bath," Margo agreed.  "Well, no rest for the wicked.  Bye!"  She snapped her fingers and disappeared.  The sofa vanished, as well.

"Bye!" Kiki said, to the empty air, then lay back and let her Virtual body float in the Virtual spa.  Gondaloo Island, she thought, imagining herself basking on a tropical beach in her skimpiest bikini.  At last I'll find out if all the rumors are true.