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		DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
		Kat's Revenge: A Love Story ——————————————————————————— by Van © 2001
		Chapter 11

EARLY AFTERNOON
GONDALOO ISLAND RESORT
PENNY'S BEDROOM

---

Penny awoke as the last of her bonds were severed.  She turned her still weary head to find a robot stowing an arm that ended in a medical hypo-spray attachment (and surmised she must have just received an injection... probably an analgesic... she hoped).   Other robot arms ending in various manipulators or cutting tools were also folding and stowing themselves.  Penny watched listlessly as the robot spun on its rubber treads and exited the room, the door closing and locking behind it.

Her bonds removed (but her horrid chastity belt still very much in place), Penny slooowly eased herself up and sat on the edge of the bed.  She blinked, stretched (gasping and frowning, as her joints popped), and examined her skin.  Ropemarks crisscrossed her arms and torso, as well as indenting her wrists, thumbs, knees, and big toes.  She was sore... but that was fading... probably that shot was an analgesic, she mused, not ungrateful for a little medicinal assistance... from any source.

"Mornin' Sunshine!" Eve-L said, popping into view on the wall screen.  Penny flinched, then relaxed... or tried to anyway.  "Allrightiethen, Sweetcakes," the perky avatar chirped.  "You know the drill: hop into the bathroom on your bound ankles and toes, before I have Mr. Belt zap your smelly hoohaw!"

Penny sighed and stood, placed her hands behind her back and ankles together, and began hopping towards the...  Wait a minute, she thought.  I'm not bound!   The tall, tan, frazzled blonde put her hands on her belted hips and glared at her cybernetic tormentor.

"Don't make that face at me, young lady," Eve-L scolded.  "It's not my fault you're in a suggestible state and...  Oh yeah...  It is my fault," the gloating avatar admitted.  "Well, never mind about the bondage part... for now... just do as you're told like a nice pleasure slave."

Penny started to say something, then yelped when a pulse of energy flashed through the TIKLER elements of her solidly locked belt.

"I'm still in charge," Eve-L noted.  "Get your disgusting, sweaty bod cleaned up and report back for orders... pronto."

Penny dragged her weary self to the bathroom, used the commode, showered, brushed her teeth, and wandered back into the bedroom, her hair still damp.  Her body no longer ached, but... "I'm so tired," she moaned.

"Yes, of course you are, Poor Baby," Eve-L cooed, "now get dressed.  You can't wander around Margo's Resort looking like a brazen underdressed showgirl.  We need to make you a modest underdressed showgirl."

"W-wander around?" Penny asked.

"Aren't you hungry?" Eve-L inquired.  "In any case, you're meeting the Gwendoline Twins for a late lunch."

"The Gwen—?"

"Chelsea and Jessie, bonehead!" Eve-L explained.  "Geesh, you really are a slow riser, aren't you." 

A drawer opened at Penny's dressing table.  Inside she found a narrow, gold, chainmail band (with blue diamond settings that matched her chastity belt.)  The band was much too long to be a bracelet, or a choker, and Penny already had a belt. There was also a very large, neatly folded, diaphanous... scarf? ...of near transparent gold silk.

"Don the top and sarong," Eve-L ordered, "and—"

"Top?" Penny interrupted.  "You mean this... this belt?"

Eve-L sighed in exasperation.  "It's a bandeau.  Be sure you center these two large diamond clusters over your nipples." 

Penny donned the top (the catch of which snapped closed and locked).  The chainmail "bandeau" pressed into her breasts, and was little more than a wide ribbon.  "This is too tight," Penny complained, "and—ahh!"

"Don't worry," Eve-L purred.  "That's just the little pin-points on the inside of the diamond nipple cups clicking into place... so the top won't slip.  They're not really sharp, and they don't hurt... do they?"

Penny squirmed slightly.  "Well, actually—"

"It was a rhetorical question, pleasure slave!" Eve-L barked.  "Now... get dressed, do something with that blonde bird's nest you call your hair, and get to lunch.  It's rude to keep guests waiting.  What kind of a hotelier are you?"

Penny tied the sarong around her waist, then turned and stared at herself in the mirror.  "I can't wear this," she complained in an exhausted voice.  "It's... it's too... too..."

"They wear more revealing thongs at beaches all over the world," Eve-L observed, "and the top covers your perky little A-cups... sort of.  Besides, you usually skinny dip when guests aren't around, Miss Lah-dee-dah, so don't get all prudish on me.  Now... do your hair!"

Penny was still staring at herself in the mirror.  "But it's so—eek!"  Responding to another jolt from the "thong" in question, Penny grabbed her hair brush and rapidly ran it through her tangled, blond bob.

"Good enough," Eve-L stated, and the door to Penny's suite cycled open.  "Off you go!"

Penny turned and stared at the image of the gloating avatar.  "But... I look like an escapee from some sultan's harem.  I can't let Chelsea see me—"

"When the girls ask," Eve-L interrupted, "tell them you've been taking part in a TESSERACT security drill."

"Security drill?   Dressed like this?  There's no way I can— eek! "  Penny dropped the hairbrush, shuddering and writhing as the insidious belt teased and caressed her most intimate person.  "Okay, okay, I'll go, I'll go, just—please—eeee!"  And then the ordeal was over.  Penny glared at Eve-L's image for several seconds, then spun on her naked heel and stomped out the door, muttering under her breath, her flimsy, gold sarong flapping like a wafting flag.

"I heard that!" Eve-L gleefully called after her disappearing charge.

EARLY AFTERNOON
GONDALOO ISLAND RESORT
MARGO'S BEDROOM

---

Jamie awoke just as Kat finished releasing her from the corset that had been pinning her to Margo's bed.  The petite, sleepy redhead stretched in her remaining bonds and smiled above her gag at her catsuited captor/rescuer... then yelped in foam-muffled indignation and momentary discomfort as Kat ripped the dermafoam tape from her lips and lower face.  Jamie mewed in complaint and spit the foam ball in her mouth across the room.  "Was that really necessary?" she demanded.

"Sorry," Kat apologized (although her manner suggested she was anything but sorry), "but I'm a bit behind schedule and we've gotta hurry."  She rolled Jamie onto her stomach and used a blade to slit and remove the tube-like dermafoam sheath binding Jamie's hands, wrists, and forearms.  Next, Kat's strong, nimble, gloved fingers untied the terry cloth sash binding Jamie's crossed ankles... and the nude, freckled biologist was free.

Jamie rolled onto her back and lifted her upper body off the bed, propping herself on her elbows.  The still sleepy former prisoner smiled at Kat and yawned, gracefully covering her mouth with the back of one hand.  She noted that however rushed she was, Kat had found the time to paint her face to match the camouflage of her catsuit.  The carefully applied brown, green and gray streaks and blotches made Kat's beautiful face dangerous.  Jamie liked it.  "Just because you can exist on an endless string of pathetic, abbreviated catnaps," the grinning redhead complained, "that's no reason the rest of us can't—"

"Ever see one of these?" Kat interrupted, tossing something small and plastic to the pouting Jamie.

Still propped on one elbow, Jamie examined the object.  It was clear, with a matte finish, and similar to the self-tightening myoplastic TESSERACT cable ties used to bundle cables, wires (and other troublesome objects, like the limbs of struggling damsels).  Molded in a figure-eight, its overall length was about ten centimeters, with each loop of the "8" having about a four centimeter inside diameter.  The plastic comprising the paired bands was about a half centimeter thick and a single centimeter wide.  A plastic tab protruded from the tiny, box-like slide-clamp at the center of the "8".

"Uh... no," Jamie admitted, then watched with interest as Kat produced another of the plastic devices, grabbed Jamie's ankles and pushed them together, then dropped a plastic loop over each of Jamie's pink, freckled big toes... smiled... and pulled the tab.  The plastic ribbons shrank and grabbed Jamie's toes, the tab shriveling and dropping away.

"Myoplastic thumb-cuffs," Kat explained.

Jamie wiggled her toes.  The plastic bands were tight but comfortable.  "Cool!" she giggled, "and they're almost invisible!  I'll have to order a case or two from the Kinky edition of the TESSERACT catalog."  She then flopped back onto the bed, placed her thumbs in the loops of the thumb-cuff Kat had tossed her, and pulled the tab with her teeth.  The loops tightened and her thumbs were inescapably bound... like her toes.  "Cool!" she repeated, giggling and wiggling her captive digits.

"They're useful for semi-public occasions," Kat explained, "like if you wanted to drug and abduct someone from say... a party, a hotel room, off the street.  Nothing makes a dazed damsel compliant like bound thumbs," Kat purred, "but who told you to bind yourself, Freckle Fox?" the bodyguard demanded.

Jamie batted her sleepy eyes in surprise.  "You... you didn't want me to—?"

"I was going to use them behind your back," Kat snapped, grabbed the sash that had formerly bound Jamie's ankles, and pounced. 

In seconds, Jamie found herself on her stomach, her bound thumbs pressed into her navel, her elbows bound behind her back with the sash, and Kat astride her back.  Jamie yelped and kicked her toe-bound legs when Kat reached back and used one gloved hand to smack her naked bottom.  "Ow!" she complained.

Kat leaned close, placed one hand in Jamie's hair and pulled her head back and to the side.  She then leaned even closer and kissed her captive full on the lips, thrusting her tongue into the startled redhead's mouth.  Jamie squealed ... then returned the kiss, with gusto.

Kat broke the kiss.  "Never take the initiative with me," Kat warned her prisoner in a husky whisper, "unless you've... captured me... understand?"

"Okay, okay," Jamie complained, "just get off me back before ya snap me spine!"

Kat laughed, climbed off the bed, and went to Margo's closet.  "I'm going to take you someplace you can get a little sun," she explained, returning to the bed with one of Margo's expensive silk scarves in her hand.

"Any chance I could talk ya into lettin' me take a shower," the bound redhead asked.  "I always shower when I get up, and—m'mmpfh!"

"Stop squirming," Kat ordered as she thrust the folded scarf between Jamie's teeth and tied it under the captive's tousled red bob at the nape of her neck.  "A shower, huh?" she asked as she gave the scarf a final jerk (causing Jamie to wince), and completed her knot.  She then hoisted the mewing prisoner onto her shoulder and carried her out the bedroom door.  "You must be reading my mind," she purred as the door closed behind them.

Several seconds later the door opened again and several small robots rolled into the bedroom suite.  Simultaneously, Eve-L popped onto the wall screen, "dressed" in a latex maid's costume, a petulant frown on her angelic face.  "Make the bed, dispose of various used Freckle Fox fetters, clean and stow corset and bed straps, check the inventory and replenish Margo's bedroom bondage expendables," the pouting avatar complained.  "I hate multi-tasking!"

EARLY AFTERNOON
GONDALOO ISLAND RESORT
MAIN LOBBY VERANDAH

---

Penny hurried down the hall towards the verandah of the main lobby, wondering how she was going to explain her costume to Chelsea and Jamie.  She reached the verandah—and stopped.  The youngsters were approaching her, across the large, sunny, open space.  Penny's jaw dropped and she stared in shock.

Jessie wasn't so bad.  The freckled twenty-year-old was dressed like a Celtic Amazon: lace-up boot-sandals; a very brief kilt in a simple green plaid (which really showed off the redheaded American's coltish legs and fair complexion, Penny had to admit), a breastplate of leather and hammered bronze (more bustier than armor, actually), a scabbarded sword slung across her back, leather bracers laced around her wrists and forearms, toques of hammered gold on her upper arms and gracing her throat, a leather headband on her brow, and the entire right half of her face painted woad blue.

Chelsea... Penny frowned.  Chelsea was for all practical purposes naked.  She was wearing, if that was the word, a shift of beads.  In addition, an Egyptian wig was on her shameless head, her impertinent face was tarted up with kohl, gold baubles were around her ankles... and some sort of thick, heavy wooden collar was around her neck and her hands behind her back.  A rope leash led from her little sister's collar to "Braveheart-Jamie's" very embarrassed hand.

"This is too much," Penny muttered, and stomped forward, fire in her eyes.  As she came closer she could see that a thick pole descended from the back of Chelsea's collar and down her back to her wrists.  Chelsea's hands were laced into a tight, sack-like, leather mitten, with broad, tight leather thongs criss-crossing and binding her arms to the pole, from her wrists to above her elbows.

"There you are, Pens," Chelsea said pleasantly.  "Where have you—?"

"Don't 'where have you been' me, young lady," Penny snapped.  "What are you two doing parading around in public like, like—"

"Like you?" Chelsea giggled, not the least bit embarrassed or contrite.  "What do you call that outfit, sis?  Our costumes are historical, at least."

"Uh..." Penny blushed bright crimson.  "Uh..."

"Eloquent as always," Chelsea quipped.

Jessie's cheeks were also crimson.  "Since, uh, since you were busy with the security drill..." she stammered... then paused, eyeing the fading rope marks on Penny's arms and torso.  Jessie's embarrassment evaporated.  She saw that Chelsea had noticed Penny's marks as well.

"I take it you were a hostage during the drill?" Chelsea asked.

"Uh... yes... a hostage," Penny answered, still blushing.

"And what about Jamie," Chelsea continued.

Penny blinked uncertainly.

"Dr. Seaton can be found at Andromeda Rock," Eve's voice announced (using her normal "Gondaloo-Eve" voice, Penny noted with relief).

"Oh... Eve's back on-line," Chelsea said.

"A mind like a steel trap," Jessie remarked. 

Chelsea responded with a rudely extended tongue, then turned back to her sister.  "Hadn't we better go find her... Jamie, I mean?"

Now Penny was really embarrassed.  Andromeda Rock!  "Uh... you sure you wouldn't like some lunch?" she suggested.

"Uh... no," Chelsea responded.  "Shall we go... or shall I ask Eve to lead us?"

Penny had no choice but to preceed the Celtic Warrior and her Captive Temple Dancer across the Resort to the far side of the lagoon beach, where rocks lined the shore and connected to the outer reef.  "Andromeda Rock" was a rugged slab tilted back from the vertical about forty degrees.  Still at some distance, the trio could plainly see Jamie... naked, gagged with a scarf, and chained to the rock in a standing spread-eagle!  The helpless captive could see them as well, and pulled on her bonds with futile embarassment.

"Is Jamie getting a sunburn," Jessie whisepered to Chelsea, "or just blushing?"

Chelsea giggled and nodded towards Penny.  "A lot of that going around," she whispered back... then cleared her throat and smiled sweetly at her blushing sister.  "Ahem... Oh, Pens?" she inquired innocently.  "Just curious, of course... but exactly what part of the 'security drill' required Dr. Seaton to be stripped starkers and chained to a rock?"

The trio watched as a large wave crashed on the outer reef, seconds passed, then sea water shot through a cavity near Andromeda Rock—high into the clear, tropical sky—then pattered back to earth, soaking the rock and its helpless prisoner.  (The girls learned later that an artificial blowhole had been bored under the reef, designed to catch a small portion of the highest incoming waves, and blast a geyser of salt spray.  It had a period of about three minutes, an hour either side of high tide.)

"More important than why she's locked in chains" Jessie said with a grin, "where's the key?"

Penny's mouth opened... then closed... then opened again.  "Uh..."

"The key to Dr. Seaton's chains will be the object of this afternoon's treasure hunt," Eve responded without prompting, "if you'd like to resume my schedule of planned diversions."

"Super!"  Chelsea gushed.  "Let's have that lunch, shall we?"  The perky blonde squirmed in her bonds, causing the beads of her shift to rattle.  "You can take turns feeding me."

Jessie gave her captive's leash a tug and headed for the kitchen.  "Or we can gag you," she muttered.

Penny continued staring across the rocks at her helpless, soaked, bedraggled companion (and lover).  "Margo's gonna be livid!" she muttered under her breath, then turned and hurried after her young guests.

SUNSET
TARSIS-III
(AT ANCHOR, THREE MILES OFF GONDALOO ISLAND)

---

Kat swam towards the stern of Tarsis-III, grabbed the gunwale, and vaulted effortlessly over the side and onto the deck.

Alex hand was on his shotgun... then he relaxed with a wry grin.  "Oh... that explains why the fish finder showed all the sharks fleein' the area," he muttered.  "About bloody time.  You're a lot of trouble... ya know that?"

Standing dripping on the sunbleached planks, graceful and dangerous in her camouflaged wetsuit, Kat said nothing, just removed her mask and mouthpiece, gloves and fins, and shrugged out of her rebreather harness.

Alex continued his diatribe.  "I passed the time on the trip back fishin'... without any bloody success, by the way... then was only at McKellen two bloody hours when ya sent yer recall.  Not even time to get pissed with me mates.  So... what happened, Love?  Things blow up in yer face?"

Kat smiled coyly, but still didn't answer.  She unzipped the gussets at her wrists and ankles, then slowly, seductively pulled down the wetsuit's main closure, exposing an increasing sliver of tan, flawless skin as the zipper parted, traveling its long, curvaceous journey from throat to navel.  Still smiling and silent, Kat shrugged her shapely shoulders out of the wetsuit and peeled the tight, neoprene garment from her arms, torso, hips, and legs.

"Oh... you shaved for the occasion, I see," Alex said, noting the absence of Kat's pubic thatch (and idly scratching the two day's growth on his face).

Naked, her wet hair slicked back and trailing down her equally wet back, Kat sauntered to the equipment locker near the stern and rummaged until she found a length of braided cord.  Her eyes on Alex, her nimble fingers tied a "handcuff knot" in the middle, leaving two long free ends.  She placed her wrists through the knot's loops and pulled them tight with her teeth.  She then deftly whipped the free ends around her joined wrists from either direction and used her lips, tongue, and teeth to tie a snug square knot.  The remaining cord went between her wrists, cinching her self-imposed bonds.  Then another square knot was tied.

To Alex's expert eye, Kat's wrist cords looked more than adequate to secure the average prisoner, and would be inescapable if tightened a little, and put out of reach of those incredibly appealing, smiling lips.  Kat corrected the latter oversight (at least for the moment) by leaping into the air and through her arms.  When her feet returned to the deck, her hands were safely behind her back.

Still without speaking, Kat launched an immediate attack—leaping towards Alex and striking with a crane-style kick (which he barely avoided), followed by a swing-kick (which he parried), and a head butt (which connected).

Alex rolled towards the stern and crouched in fighting stance.  "That hurt, ya loony broad!" he complained, pretending to spit teeth and blood.

Kat launched another attack, this time failing to penetrate Alex's defenses at all.  As she followed through on the final leg sweep of the exchange, Kat felt a sharp slap on her right buttock.

"Now we're even," Alex said... and launched his attack.

Kat parried one kick with a spinning kick of her own—then found herself pinned on the deck, the air knocked out of her lungs, Alex kneeling astride her buttocks, one hand in her hair, the other reaching for a coil of hemp rope.

Her breasts flattened on the rough, hard planks, her stomach crushed under Alex weight, Kat gasped for air.  She felt Alex binding her upper body in a quick and effective rope harness, pinning her arms to her side, criss-crossing between her breasts and over her shoulders, hitched between her arms and her elbows, and then pulled tight.  Next, she felt him untying, tightening, and retying the cinching knots of her wrist bonds.  Then, he looped rope around her bound wrists and tugged until they were flush with the breast crossing ropes of her harness, between her shoulder blades.  He then looped more rope through the harness and around her wrists.  The final knots were tied to the ropes crossing her shoulders, at the nape of her neck.  Kat could tell everything was tight—very tight—expertly applied, and inescapable (meaning Kat estimated it would probably take her more than two hours to get free, whenever she cared to start trying).

Alex rolled his naked prisoner over onto her bound wrists and leaned close to her smiling face.  "You let me do that," he pouted.

"Kiss me, you fool," Kat purred, her voice low and husky.

Alex did just that, then lifted Kat into his arms.  "I'll do more than kiss ya, ya little ripper," he said, and carried his willing prisoner towards the forward cabin... and his waiting bed.