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		DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
		Kat's Revenge: A Love Story ——————————————————————————— by Van © 2001
		Chapter 7

LATE NIGHT
GONDALOO ISLAND RESORT
PENNY'S BEDROOM

---

"Penny?  Penny, darling?  Ms. Brightman?"

Penny had to wake up.  Someone was talking to her.  One of the voices in the mumbling crowd wanted her to do something... But she was tied up, and gagged, and the room was dark, and—ZAP!  A jolt of tickling, teasing, throbbing energy coursed through her loins.  Penny spasmed on the bed—and then she collapsed, panting through her nose... and she remembered—her capture—Kat stripping and binding her—Eve-L the evil avatar torturing her with the TIKLER-bead lined, complex, automated chastity belt still locked around and through her most intimate anatomy.

Eve-L's image was shining on the bedroom's wall screen.  "Now that I have your attention..." the gloating, computer-generated nightmare cooed.  The ball in Penny's mouth deflated.  "Spit that thing out," Eve-L ordered.  It took some effort, but eventually Penny managed to use her tongue to force the flaccid rubber sphere through the ring still securely strapped between her teeth.  Still in an exhausted daze, she stared at the red, slimy ball glistening on the damp, tangled sheets of her bed.  She could barely make it out by the light of the flickering screen, and—ZAP!  Penny writhed on the bed, then the wave of agonizingly intimate stimulation passed.

"Don't go to sleep on me there, Pennster," Eve-L laughed.  "I want you to untangle yourself from those sheets, hop into the bathroom and do your business.  Then I'll give you a niiiice, refreshing shower, and you can go back to sleep.  Chop-chop!  Let's do it Sleepy Head!"

Penny mewed through her ring-gag and struggled weakly to extricate herself from the sweat dampened sheets.  Her arms gave her little leverage, folded behind her back in a double hammerlock and bound to her torso in an elaborately hitched harness of rope.  Her legs, bound together at knees, ankles, and big toes, were only slightly more useful.  Penny writhed and struggled, flopping like a fish out of water, but finally pulled herself free... then collapsed back on the bed... exhausted.

"Don't make me send for security-bots to drag you to the bathroom," Eve-L warned.  "They're the easiest for me to control, but they aren't exactly designed for valet tasks, if you know what I mean.  Their pincer arms might bruise your delicate skin."

Too tired to even sigh, Penny struggled to her bound feet and slowly... carefully... hopped into the bathroom.  She used the commode (a task made only slightly messy by her bound condition thanks to the cunning design of the chastity belt), then hopped to the shower.  Thankfully, mercifully, the water was delightfully warm.   Still dazed and exhausted, Penny was surprised to find a new feature in her already luxurious, spa-grade shower: robotic spray heads on long, tentacle-like arms.  The arms writhed and danced around her like snakes, directing their pulsing, throbbing jets to massage and clean her tired, aching, bound and gagged body... and then she was clean, even in her most intimate region... and the shower was over...

Dripping wet, Penny hopped back into her bedroom.  While she'd been in the shower Eve-L had directed the housekeeping robots to change her bed.  Gone was the former sweat dampened tangle, replaced by a single new, crisp, clean sheet, stretched tautly over the firm mattress.  Penny hopped beside the bed... and let herself collapse onto the cool, silky surface.

"I know you're hungry," Eve-L said (causing Penny's empty stomach to growl in agreement), "but the medical expert systems agree you can wait 'til breakfast... Penny?"

The tall, wet, bound and gagged prisoner was already out like a light.

Eve-L directed the bedroom's environmental controls to activate the air-conditioning system's dehumidifiers and the infrared pinspots over the bed.  Now her captive wouldn't become chilled as her skin dried.  Penny squirmed weakly on the bed, her bound body glowing redly under the gentle heatlamps.

After several minutes Penny's eyes began darting behind their closed lids, signaling the onset of REM sleep.  No longer needed, the heatlamps faded.  Simultaneously... the lights of Penny's belt resumed their twinkling, subtly teasing dance... and the many whispering voices resumed their urgent, subliminal mumbling.

MIDNIGHT
GONDALOO ISLAND RESORT
JESSIE'S GUEST SUITE

---

Chelsea had learned what constituted a "frog-tie."  She was lying on her stomach.  Scarves bound her wrists behind her back, her elbows together, pinned her arms to her torso, and her ankles to her upper thighs.  Her silken bonds were tight, cleverly cinched, and carefully knotted.  The naked Brit's knees were widely splayed, her tan body glistening with sweat.  Her head bobbed; her short, tousled hair swaying as her lips and busy tongue skillfully performed an intricate task.

Jessie, on her part, was learning something of the games Chelsea used to play with her childhood friend, Connie.  The object of Chelsea's oral exercise, Jessie was flat on her back, as naked as her prisoner, her legs fully extended and equally splayed, her pale, freckled skin also glistening with sweat.  Her arms were raised above her head, her hands gripping the frame of the headboard.

Bound body between Jessie's legs, face pressed to her redheaded captor's loins, Chelsea's lips worked Jessie's flushed, glistening labia; the silk-bound Brit's tongue licking the gasping American's clitoris.  The captive's tan, freckled, button nose nestled in Jessie's coppery red pubic bush as she pleasured her writhing friend.

Suddenly, Jessie arched her back and her grip on the headboard tightened, her knuckles whitening.  Her eyes clinched tightly closed, a wordless moan escaped her grimacing mouth.

Chelsea's eyes twinkled in amused pleasure as she licked her musk filmed lips and redoubled her efforts, prolonging her new lover's orgasm.

MIDNIGHT
GONDALOO ISLAND RESORT
STOREROOM ECHO SEVEN

---

Reclined on her soft, wide, deep, "Kat bed" of silken pillows, sipping a chilled glass of expensive champagne, Kat was having a lot of fun. 

On the far wall, many times life-size, Jessie McQuade's glistening, grimacing face was projected in high resolution.  The redhead's flawless, freckled skin seemed to glow as she writhed in the throes of a crashing multiple orgasm, her arms upraised and gripping the headboard of her bed.

In the foreground, Jamie Seaton struggled weakly, the victim of hours of cunningly applied tickle torture.  Her feet still tightly clamped in the bench's insidious TIKLER boots, her arms upraised and inescapably clamped in the bench's heavy manacles; Jamie's naked, athletic body was glistening; her toned muscles gliding under her flushed skin as she pulled weakly on her bonds.  The captive redhead's face was locked in a rictus of suffering, eyes closed, mouth open.  The giggling laughter that had filled the storeroom early in her ordeal had long since given way to gasps, moans, and various inarticulate gurgling noises, nothing Kat would call either the sound of amusement or speech.

Kat took another sip of champagne, noting that the expressions of the two freckled redheads, one projected and the other immediately before her, were strikingly similar.  "I guess the old saw about orgasm and torture looking the same is true," she said.  Jamie, the one undergoing the torture, gave no indication she had heard Kat's remark.  Life is good, Kat mused. 

In answer to a low beeping noise, the grinning bodyguard picked up a palmcom lying on a nearby cushion, consulted the tiny screen... and emptied her champagne glass.  "Time for your next hydration, Freckle Fox," she announced.

Kat rolled over, opened a cooler and retrieved a half-liter bottle of sports drink, then crawled towards her captive on hands and knees, popping the top on the bottle as she went.  She lifted Jamie's head, one gloved hand in her victim's sweat dampened hair, and held the bottle to Jamie's grimacing, flushed lips.

Jamie drank the contents of the bottle, as fast as Kat would allow, her tired, green eyes locked with her torturer's gloating, green, smiling eyes.  "K-Kat..." she gasped in a hoarse whisper, "I... I c-can't... Please, Kat!  I—Ahh!"

A recurved steel flange had lifted from a panel in the "Y-bench" to which Jamie was bound, between the gasping redhead's splayed knees, and pressed itself to her loins, covering Jamie's sex like the front half of a three inch thick, steel bikini bottom.

Her face inches from her victim's, her eyes still locked with her prisoner's, Kat smiled evilly as Jamie squirmed and moaned.  "Don't be alarmed, Freckle Fox," the smug brunette cooed, caressing Jamie's flat abdomen with one gloved hand.  "That sensation you feel is only the catheter seating itself.  Just relax.  The pump will kick in and you can just... go with the flow."

"K-Kat," Jamie whispered, grimacing and gasping as the pump started, emptying her bladder; and all the while, the horrible boots continued their endless, maddeningly cunningly, intelligent attack on the nerve endings of her clamped and trapped feet.  "I-I'm s-sorry!  Please, Kat!"

"Stop whining, Freckle Fox," Kat ordered, and produced the ball-gag Jamie had worn earlier.  The suffering redhead's eyes widened and she mewed weakly as Kat thrust the ball between her teeth.  "This'll help you preserve your dignity," Kat teased as she cinched and buckled the strap.

Having finished its task, the business end of the sanitary system released itself and disappeared behind a sliding panel in the "Y-bench's" base.  "I have some good news for you, Freckle Fox," Kat purred, consulting her palmcom again.  "At this point in the program your little tootsies get a rest period."  Abruptly, the tickling assault on Jamie's trapped and enclosed feet did, in fact, stop.  The sweat slick captive collapsed in her bonds, going limp against the squirm-gel padding of the bench.

Kat's left, gloved hand hovered over Jamie's right breast; then the gloating bodyguard began teasing Jamie's flushed, erect nipple.  "Eve tells me one of the distinct advantages of TIKLER technology is the way it stimulates nerve endings while bypassing most of the transmitter biochemistry happening in various parts of the neurons."  Kat's teasing massage was extended to Jamie's left nipple, and the exhausted prisoner moaned weakly through her gag.  "The neurochemistry angle's probably old news to you... being a biologist and all," Kat continued.  "You could probably better explain it all in stifling and precise detail... if you weren't gagged, of course... but to continue my explanation... since some of the transmitter chemicals do get expended under TIKLER stimulation, we'll have to let a stimulated area rest now and then."  Kat clutched Jamie's left nipple and gave it a savage pinch .  The prisoner arched her back and her gagged moan became a whine.  "We wouldn't want all these delicious sensations to loose their edge..."  She gave Jamie's right nipple a pinch.  "...would we?"

The gloating brunette reached into a sleeve pocket and produced what looked like a silver ball-point pen.  "Not to worry, Freckle Fox," Kat purred, and gave the pen a click.  A cluster of short, thin wires, perhaps two dozen or more, emerged from the tip of the pen and fanned out, blossoming into a small, cone-shaped brush.  Jamie's eyes widened in dread as the tips of the wires began glowing, twinkling in shades of red and green.  "Yessss... that's right," Kat confirmed.  "It's a TIKLER wand... the latest generation."

Jamie flinched and mewed as Kat passed the wand over the prisoner's upper torso, keeping the twinkling points less than an inch from the worried captive's glistening skin.  "Ribs... breasts... nipples... Oh, and armpits!  Mustn't forget the armpits."  Her gloating face inches from Jamie's, their eyes locked, Kat savored the way the prisoner panted around her gag and through her flaring nostrils as the wand hovered before her face, the glowing wires a fraction of an inch from the tip of her freckled button nose.

Suddenly, on its own, the audio feed from Jessie's bedroom rose in crescendo.  Kat lifted her head and watched as Jessie McQuade's grimacing face morphed into that of... Eve-L.  "Oh... yes, yes, yes!" the voice of the avatar moaned as she writhed on the screen.  "Oh, I'll have what she's having!  Ride'm cowgirl!  Give it to me, you perky little English tart!  Yes!  Yes!  Yes!..."

Kat sighed and smiled indulgently, then deactivated the TIKLER wand and returned it to her sleeve pocket.  "I assume there's a reason for this intrusion," she addressed the screen.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes! ...a reason!" Eve-L agreed.  "You, you have a V-call waiting, waiting from... Sea-sea-SEATTLE!  Oh, yes!  From the H-h-h-h-H-Haremkeeper!"

Kat's smile vanished.  "What the hell does she want?"

"Don't be cross, Pussykins," Eve-L cooed, suddenly not in the throes of orgasm.  "You should be honored Elke's calling you, taking time out from her busy schedule of boinking and/or torturing Charlie, and giving erotic shiatsu to Margo as they both writhe naked on the gym floor and..." 

Kat's frown was deepening, a low growl escaping her clenched lips.

"Okay, okay, don't wolf-out on me," Eve-L continued.  "Do you want to take the call here, or—"

"Of course not," Kat snapped, then looked down at Jamie... and her smile returned.  "Hmm... let's see now," Kat mumbled as she climbed to her feet.  "While I'm gone, please remind Dr. Seaton that her feet aren't her only ticklish features.  Armpits, breasts, ribs... level one."  Panels snapped opened on the sides of the gel-cushioned bench on Jamie's left and right a half-dozen small, articulated robot arms emerged, each terminating in a small, twinkling cluster of TIKLER beads.  Jamie writhed in her bonds, begging with wide, desperate eyes, mewing through her gag.  "Leave off the genitals and thighs.  I want to attend to them personally," Kat instructed.

Kat stretched gracefully and walked to the opening door.  "Did I say level one?" she purred, looking back towards her writhing, whining victim.  "Nooo... she's a big girl.  Make that level two," the gloating bodyguard amended, and stepped through the doorway.  The heavy steel door hissed closed, leaving Jamie alone in the dimly lit storeroom, alone and at the mercy of this projected newcomer. 

"Hello, Dr. Freckle Fox," the stranger purred.  "Allow me to introduce myself.  I'm Eve-L.  That's 'L' as in 'laughing uncontrollably as you're mercilessly tickled for hour after endless hour.'  I'm the Security Avatar of the 6900 inter-nexus, and I'll be your torturer for the rest of the evening... or at least 'til Kitty Dearest gets back."  The flashing tempo of the TIKLER wands increased and the arms began to move, slowly bringing their glowing points of ruby and emerald light closer to Jamie's pale, stretched, freckled form.

On the screen, Eve-L's face lit in what Jamie could only describe as sadistic delight.  The robot arms paused and did a brief, elaborate, coordinated dance in midair, then resumed their inexorable march towards Jamie's pinioned body.  "I love multi-tasking," the grinning avatar cooed. 

EARLY MORNING
TESSERACT WORLD HEADQUARTERS
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON, USA
ELKE & CHARLIE'S BIOSPHERE APARTMENT SUITE

---

Elke finished the last of her coffee and set down her mug, then stretched, adjusted the straps of her TESSERACT Health Club leotard, and stared at the wall-size screen display across the room.  The TESSERACT logo was still doing its tumbling, spinning dance, normal behavior when a system task was on hold.  A band of letters across the bottom of the screen read, "PERSON-TO-PERSON CONNECTION PENDING.  PLEASE WAIT."

The general timing of this call was critical, Elke knew.  It was a given that Kat would be up, despite the time difference, but this attempt to influence events had to be seen as a casual, friendly inquiry, not an attempted intervention.  Elke sighed and refilled her mug.  A perceived intervention would be disasterous, setting Elke's plan back months.  Elke took a careful sip of coffee.  There was a wound in the Inner Circle, and it needed to heal.  Elke was surprised Margo had let things get this bad... but she probably had her reasons... which she didn't always share, not even with "Haremkeeper".  Elke was going to have to trust her own instincts... which weren't always reliable when it came to Kat.

Suddenly the screen cleared and Kat's face appeared.  The bodyguard's usual mask of indifference was carefully in place, but Elke could tell she wasn't exactly thrilled to be disturbed.  (Elke's own face was displayed in a small window in one corner of the screen.  As ordered, the outgoing image was a tight closeup on Haremkeeper's face.)

"Good evening, Katherine," Elke said with a pleasant smile, then took another sip of coffee.  Kat said nothing, but may have nodded, ever so slightly.  "Sorry to disturb you," Elke continued, "but Margo asked me to check and see if everything was okay."

"She can always access the security-cam feeds if she really wants to check up on me," Kat responded.

"And she probably is," Elke answered with a laugh.  "Personally, I'd rather wait for the edited 'How I Spent My Summer Vacation' presentation she'll probably make you deliver when you get back.  I think she wanted me to call to give you a break, contact with someone you're not torturing.  How are the girls by the way."

Kat smiled (ever so slightly).  "If by 'girls' you mean Jessie and Penny's brat sister, I'm keeping well away from them.  Too dangerous."  Elke raised an eyebrow in question.  "Those two are going at it like a couple of crazed weasels.  Jessie knows I'm on the island, but Chelsea's too busy seducing Jessie to notice."

"I think Margo has some sort of recruitment scheme going with those two," Elke confided, "but I'm out of the loop.  How 'bout Jamie and Penny?"

Kat's smile vanished.  "Penny's sequestered, as planned... and Freckle Fox is receiving my personal attention."

"I've never understood your enmity towards Jamie," Elke remarked, carefully staring into her mug.

"She's a sychophantic little suck-up," Kat growled.  "What's to understand?  Everytime she's with Margo, she follows her around like a puppy-dog, sticking her nose where it doesn't belong, and—"

"Kat," Elke interrupted, "do you have any doubt that Jamie loves Margo?"

The bodyguard seemed genuinely surprised by the question.  "No," she grumbled, finally.  "We all love Margo.  What the hell has that got to do with the way she—"

"You're with Margo almost every day," Elke interrupted again, "unless you're away on a mission... or on vacation."

"Your point being?" Kat mumbled.

"Jamie sees Margo face-to-face, feels her touch... for one week, maybe two, every six to nine months," Elke observed, "if she's lucky."

Kat stared at the screen, saying nothing.

"I imagine I'd follow Margo around like a love-sick puppy, given similar circumstances," Elke mused.  "How 'bout you, Katherine?"

Kat was still staring at the screen, deep in thought.

"Well... Have fun!" Elke said.  "I'll tell Margo 'Fox Hunt' is on track."  Elke waited a few seconds to see if Kat was going to respond... (She didn't.)  "Bye!" Elke said finally, and broke the link.

Several seconds later Charlie came through the suite door.  Clad in running clothes, the diminutive engineer was still slightly out of breath from the final sprint of her morning run through the Biosphere.  "Hi honey, I'm home!" she called, then skidded to a hault, a puzzled expression on her pixie face.  She pointed to the far side of Elke's desk.

Opposite the grinning Elke were two chrome steel, all-terrain, robot wheelchairs.  Seated in the chairs were Jodi Weber and Anne Clayton, nude, clamped in their seats at their wrists, ankles and waists, and gagged with tight, wide, head-encircling bands of dermafoam tape, the new translucent kind, Charlie noted.  "Uh... they weren't here when I left... were they?"

"No," Elke answered with a chuckle, "you probably would have noticed.  Eve just delivered them."  In truth, the prisoners had been there several minutes, silent witnesses to Elke's V-call with Kat, and now they were following the current conversation with their full attention, eyes wide above their gags, heads turning in unison.

Charlie patted her face with a towel.  "Dare I ask?"

Elke stretched and regarded the captives.  "It seems a few months ago these two were captured and tortured by Kitty Kat for several days, and they never reported it—a clear violation of the bylaws.  I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish them severly."

Charlie shook her head.  "They got tortured... so now they have to be punished."  Then Bug's expression brightened.  "Oh, you mean after Margo's last Gondaloo trip?" Charlie asked, "the one with the Big Jungle Girl Hunt where the tables were turned on Margo and—"

"You knew about this?" Elke demanded with a disapproving frown.  "The unauthorized torture I mean."

"Anne told me," Charlie answered.  "Kitty Kat said she'd get 'em good if they complained... so they didn't... and stop being so melodramatic with the torture bit.  It sounds like it was just your usual out-of-control Kat game, according to what Annie told me, anyway."  The Pixie grinned at her friend and lover.  "You can be such a prig with your damn rules," Charlie scolded, then softened her remark by kissing the still frowning Amazon's right cheek.  "I'll be in the shower."

Elke watched as Charlie exited, peeling off clothes as she went.  After several seconds the sound of the shower could be heard, followed by Charlie's passable rendition of the Bell Song from Delibes Lakmé.  Elke smiled, reached out and touched a square on her desktop display.  "Eve," the Health Club Director whispered, "can you have another wheelchair-bot, with full restraints, here in say... two minutes, size petite?"

"Three minutes," Eve answered quietly, "and they're one-size-fits-all."

Elke winked at her helpless, naked, wheelchair-bound audience.  "Excellent, Eve" she said.  "Make it so, please, and I'll now need three complete sets of toys and supplies in Playroom Seven."