DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
			A SERIAL MELODRAMA by Van © 2002

When last we left Our Heroine, Ronnie Allbriton (TESSERACT Game Designer & Tae-bo Tart); she was trapped in Virtual Reality with no memory of the "real world"; had been captured by the cruel but fictional Kul'Dakar Amazons (the Ancient Warrior Culture she herself helped invent); accused of being a "Spirit-witch" & Spy; "stolen" & "entertained" by the "Sacred Twins" (who nick-named her "Neeka"); sentenced by the Kul'Dakar's Dread Queen to be BURIED ALIVE in the Caverns of Kor... & was!  ...then was rescued by the Alluring & Mysterious "Red Ghost" & transported to the Ravishing Redhead's Subterranean Lair...
...& WAS EATEN BY A BIG SNAKE!!!

All was darkness—wet, slimy, crushing darkness.  Ronnie mewed through her gag and writhed in her bonds, desperately struggling to pull what fetid air was available through her half-clogged nostrils and into her burning lungs.   Oh goddess, give me the strength to accept my fate! she prayed, continuing to fight, knowing it was pointless.  Ronnie was near the end... her end.  The burning agony in her lungs began to fade.  Everything began to fade.  Tiny phantom sparks exploded before her eyes and she heard a quiet buzzing hum.  The sparks became brighter and more numerous and the hum crescendoed to a dull roar—then the sparks coalesced to a single point and the hum all but vanished. The point became a human face, and the hum a human voice.

Poor Ronnie!  ...or should I say poor ' Neeka? '  What a horrible, horrible end to such a fun story.  I don't think I can allow it.  It's just too sad.  And more importantly... I'm nowhere near done playing with you, my pretty interloper.

Suddenly the darkness pressed Ronnie's body with crushing force—and she found herself sliding back into the light—into the world—into life— vomiting forth from the serpent's mouth.  She was still gagged, her mouth stuffed with a large leather sphere, a narrow cleaving strap biting the corners of her mouth, a wide leather panel sealing her lips, and she was still bound with rope in a tight fetal tuck, but now she was covered in a coating of thick, clinging, milky slime.  The mucus cocoon dripped from her body in viscous ropes, and she lay in a clinging puddle of the mucilaginous fluid.  Ronnie shuddered in her bonds and whined through her gag.  Snake spit!  She blinked to clear the slime from her eyes and explosively snorted to clear her flaring nostrils.  She lifted her head and focused on her surroundings.

The giant snake was still there, but so was the Red Ghost.  "You naughty, naughty, naughty Snakiepoo!" the redhead was saying, shaking her finger at the huge serpent's head, "...eating one of my guests without my permission.  The very idea."  The snake flicked its forked tongue, sampling the air around the waving digit.  "Stop it!" the Red Ghost snapped.  "Don't tickle my hand when I'm trying to scold you!"  The snake continued flicking its tongue.  "Oh, don't pout, Sweetness.  I know you're hungry, but you can't have my Neeka.  Go down to the lower caverns and find yourself a nice cave bear or some morlocks to snack on.  Go on, shoo, shoo!"

Ronnie continued shuddering and squirming as the snake slithered away.  The Red Ghost was watching it depart, her hands on her shapely hips.  Her body language expressed displeasure, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the suppressed smile on her coral lips.   The redhead was wearing a bandeau and loincloth of silver-gray silk. "Tell your friends!" she shouted after the disappearing snake. "No eating my Neeka!"  Ronnie went limp in her bonds (and pool of snake spit) and began weeping.

The Red Ghost knelt and began removing Ronnie's gag.  It took several seconds to unbuckle the front flap, release the cleaving strap, and pull the large leather ball from Ronnie's mouth.  Ronnie continued weeping and blinking.  Frowning with disgust, the Red Ghost removed her bandeau and used the crumpled silk to scrub Ronnie's face as best she could.  "What a mess," she muttered.

"You left me!" Ronnie accused.  "You left me and that thing came and ate me and, and..."  Ronnie began sobbing uncontrollably and the Red Ghost held her ball-tied body close, cradling the slime covered captive's dripping head against her breasts.

"There, there, Neeka," the Red Ghost cooed.  "It's all better.  Don't cry."

Ronnie squirmed violently in her bonds and thrashed her head.  "Don't cry?" she demanded.  "Don't cry?  I was eaten by a fucking snake!  I'll cry if I want to!  And I... I want to."  Ronnie resumed weeping. The Red Ghost held her close, ignoring the viscous slime matting her prisoner's hair and now adhering to her own pale skin.  A blade appeared in the Red Ghost's hand and Ronnie's bonds were severed, band-by-band and hitch-by-hitch, until she was completely free (save her collar, of course).  Still weeping, she clutched her pale captor and rescuer and hugged her tight.  "I... She... I... I dreamed of... of The Queen."

The Red Ghost lifted Ronnie into her arms and carried her towards the hot spring pool.  "The Queen?"

"She... she came to me... and... I can't remember!"

"There, there," the Red Ghost cooed as they entered the pool.  She sat half-submerged on the steps with her burden and began sluicing warm water over Ronnie's head and body.  "I should have known Her Majesty was running this show when I saw the encrypted hyperblock in your encounter matrix."

"Wh... what?"

The Red Ghost hugged Ronnie close.  "Sorry Neeka," she whispered.  "I forgot the... uh... curse on your collar is robbing you of all Spirit-witch knowledge and power.  I'll not use Spirit-witch jargon again."  Still hugging her red-haired rescuer, Ronnie missed the amused smirk curling the Red Ghost's lips.

Eventually both women were cleansed of snake spit and the Red Ghost carried her dripping wet "guest" from the pool and dried her with a cotton towel.  "You rest on the bed, okay?  I'll cook the breakfast."

Ronnie crawled onto the platform and curled up in the center of the soft heap of furs and silk cloaks. "It... it won't come back, will it?"

"Snakiepoo?"  The Red Ghost smiled.  "Not now.  None of my protectors or defenses will harm you in any way, Neeka my sweet.  I would have blended your aura with my wards before going out for eggs if I'd known Snakiepoo was in the area."  She dragged the end of a chain towards Ronnie, and before the half-dozing brunette knew it was happening, it was locked to her collar ring.

Ronnie clutched the chain and followed it visually to the end of the bed platform and up towards the ceiling.  It disappeared far overhead in the shadows between three massive stalagmites.  "Hey!"  She tugged on the chain again.  It was heavy.  "Is this necessary?"

"Trust is something that must be earned," the Red Ghost murmured.  "Now, take a nap.  I'll wake you when breakfast is ready."  She turned back to face her captive.  "Oh... I guess I better explain.  There are wards protecting the armory and the kitchen.  If you drag your chain within ten paces of the weapons cache, it will wrap around you until you can't move, lift you about 100 paces into the air, and leave you dangling to await my pleasure.  The same thing happens if you take a kitchen blade ten paces from the work tables."  She turned back and continued towards the kitchen.

"Trust is a gift!" Ronnie countered.

The Red Ghost paused, then continued walking.  "Not this close to Kul'Dakar it isn't," she drawled, "now take a nap like I told you, or you don't get any breakfast."

Curled on her side, her left hand clutching her chain, Ronnie watched her new friend and captor prepare a simple meal.  You're not fooling me, she mused, stifling a yawn with her right hand.   You're not near as hard as you pretend... and you're beautiful!

Ronnie was awakened by a gentle nudge in her ribs.  Blinking sleepily she looked up to find the Red Ghost standing over her.  The fair-skinned redhead had changed into a fresh bandeau and loincloth.  This time the silk was pale green.

"C'mon!" the Red Ghost ordered, nodding towards a low slab of limestone near the kitchen area.  Food was spread on the horizontal surface, and two pallets were arranged on either side, for reclined dining in the Kul'Dakar style.  "Go wash your face," she muttered and walked away towards the waiting meal.

Ronnie yawned, dragged her chain to the hot spring pool, splashed her face, and patted it dry with a towel.  She then hefted her chain and joined her captor.  "You eat Amazon-style," she observed, settling on her left side on the unoccupied pallet.

"It's a tactic," the Red Ghost explained.  "I follow Kul'Dakar practice in many things, so I won't make small mistakes when I pass among them.  I'll make an exception in your case."

Ronnie blinked in confusion, her stomach growling as she watched the Red Ghost load a plate with scrambled eggs, sausages, flat bread, and sliced fruit.  "What do you mean?"

"The normal way to feed one's slave is to put her mush in a bowl and have her dine on her knees with her hands behind her back.  You know that.  Isn't that how the Bitch-warriors fed you?"

"The only time I got any food was from the twins," Ronnie mumbled.  "They fed me by hand... and I'm not your slave!"

"You keep saying that," the Red Ghost said and pushed the plate of food towards Ronnie.  "I'll let you eat like a warrior.  I'm too lazy to hand feed you like a slut-slave-pet and I don't have many bowls suitable for floor dining.  If eating reclined bothers you, you can put your plate on the floor."

Ronnie laughed.  "Very funny."  She started eating, tearing off strips of flat bread and using them to scoop up the eggs.  "Very good!" she mumbled between bites.

The Red Ghost poured fruit juice into a tumbler of fired clay and handed it to Ronnie.  "I hope you know how to cook.  I don't have time to teach you."

"I can cook," Ronnie admitted, then took a slow drink of juice, her eyes on her host (and captor).  "What's your name?" she asked.

The Red Ghost was busy eating her share of the eggs and sausages.  "I told you," she said finally.  "My enemies call me—"

"What's your name?" Ronnie demanded, smiling coyly.

The Red Ghost's blushed slightly and continued eating.  (Ronnie felt a thrill of passion at the charming sight.)

"I can't call you 'The Red Ghost' all the time," Ronnie said.  "That's a title, not a name."

"Teela," the Red Ghost mumbled.

"What?"

The Red Ghost stopped eating and met Ronnie's amused gaze.  "I remember my mother.  I remember helping her cook and clean and forage for herbs and mushrooms in the forest.  I remember her calling me 'Teela'.  And I remember the Skrell taking me during a raid.  I was their slave for five years... and then they gave me to the Bitch-warriors as tribute."

Ronnie's smile was gone.  "Your mother was a Spirit-witch?"

"She taught me," the Red Ghost confirmed, "and a friendly Skrellian Dream-weaver taught me more."

"Teela..." Ronnie murmured.  "That's a pretty name.  May I call you Teela?"

The blushing redhead chewed and swallowed, then met Ronnie's gaze again.  "Nobody's called me Teela in... in a long time."

Ronnie grinned.  "Pretty Teela," she purred.  "Yes, I like that name.  I fits you."

The Red Ghost finished her food, continuing to blush.  "Hurry up and eat," she mumbled, "then start cleaning up the kitchen.   I have weapons practice."

"Yes, Teela," Ronnie purred, smiling sweetly."

The next several days settled into a routine.  'Teela' gave 'Neeka' a ragged but clean scrap of coarse linen to wear as a loincloth and the prisoner filled her time cleaning and cooking, pattering around the cavern at the end of her chain, carefully avoiding the armory and being meticulous to leave the kitchen utensils in the kitchen area.  The pantry was stocked with exotic spices plundered from Kul'Dakar tributary caravans and Ronnie made good use of them, better use than Teela had, in fact.

There was an opening in the cavern ceiling far overhead and Ronnie learned to use it to keep time.  Around noon a shaft of sunlight found its way to the hot spring pool; and at dawn and dusk a cloud of bats departed and returned, providing additional time signals as they traveled to and from their roosting caves and the open sky.  (Thankfully the bat roosts were down various side tunnels and far from the Red Ghost's Lair, so cleaning up mountains of bat guano was not one of Ronnie's daily tasks.)

Teela would come and go, sometimes simply dressed in her usual bandeau and loincloth, and sometimes armed to the teeth with bow, quiver, sword, and spear.  Once (mysteriously) she departed and returned in the full armor of a Kul'Dakar Sabertooth-rider.  She never explained her various comings and goings, no matter how skillfully Ronnie broached the subject.  "Business," she'd growl when pressed, and would say nothing more.

Sometimes Ronnie would work in the kitchen and watch Teela drill with spear or sword, enjoying the sight of the naked redhead thrusting and parrying, stamping and spinning, until she was dripping with sweat.  

At night they would share the huge bed platform, making love and snuggling atop the furs and silk.  Sometimes Ronnie was free (but for her collar and chain), but usually they made love with Ronnie's wrists bound behind her back.  Once Ronnie spent an entire night stringently spread-eagled on the bed, gagged with her own loincloth, and Teela played her glistening body like a harp, causing orgasm after orgasm after glorious, crashing orgasm, until Ronnie passed out in exhaustion.  She awakened at dawn to find her grinning captor untying her bonds and the bats returning from their nightly hunt, swooping and fluttering overhead.

Ronnie kept herself in shape with Tae-bo exercise.  Her loincloth removed and only slightly encumbered by her chain, she would box and weave, kick and duck, losing herself in the rhythmic repetitions, pushing the speed and duration until she was dripping with sweat and in need of a dip in the hot spring.  She always did this when Teela was away, not to hide the activity, but because she was usually too busy for Tae-bo when Teela was present.

However, one day Ronnie was midway through a grueling exercise set and she looked up to find Teela leaning on her spear and regarding her 'guest' with open admiration and respect.

"Your story about disabling an Amazon squad and kicking that little Panther-cub into oblivion is more credible now.  Kul'Dakar training puts little emphasis on unarmed combat.  Wrestling, yes.  Unarmed combat, no.  Your skills were no doubt a complete mystery to them."

Blushing at the compliment Ronnie nodded, patting her gleaming face with a towel.  "Tae-bo has its uses, but I wouldn't last long on a battlefield," she muttered, "especially against amazons with swords... and archers."

"I can't help you with dodging arrows," Teela said, "but I can teach you something about swords."  She walked to her weapons cache, racked her weapons, removed her loincloth and bandeau, and returned with two wooden practice swords.  She unlocked the chain from Ronnie's collar (for the first time since locking it on, all those many days ago), and handed her one of the swords.  "You aren't too winded, are you?"

Ronnie smiled and gripped the sword.  "I've barely broken a sweat," she lied.  "This thing's heavy."

"Not like that," Teela scolded, demonstrating the correct grip.  "Practice swords are double weight, to develop your wrist.  First comes technique, slashing and stabbing and parrying; then comes tactics; then comes speed.  We'll start with some slow, simple exchanges."  The 'slow simple exchanges' went on for most of an hour, with Ronnie's sword being knocked from her hand about half the time during the early passes.

"What am I doing wrong?" Ronnie demanded.

"Concentrate on your grip.  That's the first fundamental," Teela answered.  "Now... point up!  Here I come!"

By the end of the hour Ronnie's wrist was throbbing and her fingers numb.

"You're doing fine," Teela said, then whipped her practice sword in a complex twirl, knocked the sword from Ronnie's hand, and caught both weapons.  "We'll do this again tomorrow."  She returned both swords to the armory, then stooped to pick up the end of Ronnie's chain, turning her back to her prisoner.  "You did really well for someone who—urk!"

Ronnie had grabbed Teela from behind and had her in a sleeper hold, one arm pinning the redhead's crooked elbows, the other around her throat.  Sweaty pale skin slid against sweaty tan skin as Teela struggled and Ronnie held her close.  "I'm sorry, Teela," Ronnie whispered.  Teela struggled for several more seconds, then went limp.  Ronnie eased her to the stone floor.  "I'm sorry."

Ronnie finally decided on a Kul'Dakar Scout's short-sword.  She buckled on the sword belt and scabbard and returned the rejected swords to the armory baskets from which they had come.  She considered "borrowing" a bow and quiver, but Ronnie had no archery skills... she didn't think she did, anyway... so she decided the sword would do, as far as weapons went.  She walked to the kitchen area and selected a knife with a good balance and keen edge.  The sword was a weapon, but the knife was a tool.  She tucked the knife into the sheath stitched into her right boot top and began packing some food and loading it into a leather satchel.  The satchel joined the water skin and coil of climbing rope already draped over her shoulders.

Ronnie inspected herself.  Soft, brown, knee-length moccasin boots, G-string and bra-style top of gleaming saddle-brown leather (cut for freedom of movement rather than modesty), sword, knife, food, rope, and water... she was as ready as she was ever going to be. Hmm... maybe a cloak , she decided.  She rummaged through the baskets behind the armory until she found something suitable.  It was mushroom tan and lined with dark brown boiled silk that matched her hair.  It was light enough for the trail, tightly woven to shed the rain, and warm enough to serve as a blanket.  It felt good to be wearing some real clothes... if what amounts to a leather bikini counts as clothes, she mused.

Ronnie blinked in confusion.  'Bikini'...  I know what it means... but what kind of word is 'bikini'?  She fingered her irremovable slave collar with its power-blocking curse.   Bikini must be a word from the Spirit-witch realm.  Damn this collar... and damn The Queen!

She turned to the bed platform... and sighed, guiltily.  Teela was awake, and she wasn't happy.  Before scrounging for clothes, equipment, and supplies Ronnie had taken the precaution of tying up her "hostess".   The naked redhead was squirming atop the black furs of her bed platform, her wrists bound atop her spine, her arms pinned to her sides by bands of rope above and below her breasts.  Her ankles were crossed, bound, and linked to her wrist and arm bonds in a business-like but not overly stringent hog-tie.  A silk cloth was stuffed in her mouth and another wrapped around her lower face, first covering, then cleaving her lips, and was firmly knotted at the nape of her neck.  Her dark eyes glared at Ronnie above the gag.

If looks could kill, Ronnie mused, and stepped to the bed.  She dropped her borrowed cloak and equipment on the end of the platform, unbuckled and tossed her sword, scabbard, and belt atop the cloak, then crawled towards the struggling redhead.  Ronnie had been careful to position all the knots of Teela's bondage out of the range of her groping fingers, and she noted the naked captive was making no headway whatsoever towards regaining her freedom.

Ronnie settled into a semi-lotus a couple of feet from the struggling and quite obviously angry Teela.  "I'm sorry," Ronnie muttered, "but I can't stay here forever..."  She reached out and combed Teela's tousled hair away from her glaring eyes.  "...as much as I might like to."  Teela stopped struggling but continued making noise, making it clear she very much wanted to be ungagged.  "Shh... relax," Ronnie sighed, continuing to stroke Teela's hair.  "It's better this way.  I've left a kitchen knife wedged in a crack in the floor behind the firepit.  After I leave, all you have to do is squirm your way over there and cut yourself free.  It might take a few hours... but I need a head start.  I'm sorry."

Teela would have none of it.  She continued bobbing her head and mewing through the silk stuffed in her mouth.

Ronnie sighed and lifted Teela's chin.  "If I take out your gag do you promise not to use your powers?  ...on your honor as a Spirit-witch?"  Teela sighed as well, and nodded.  "I'm going to regret this," Ronnie muttered, lifted Teela's hair, and untied the knot of the gag.  She unwound the narrow silk band, helped Teela expel the stuffing... and waited for the torrent of curses and/or accusations and/or threats sure to follow.  To her great surprise... Teela simply continued to stare.  "Well... say something," Ronnie said finally.  "Tell me I'm an ungrateful thief.  You wanted to talk... so talk."

Teela stared for several more seconds.  "Have you thought this through?" she said finally.

"I told you," Ronnie mumbled.  "I can't stay here, and—"

"Do you know the way out of this cavern?  What time is it?"  Teela glanced upwards.  "Late afternoon? ...nearly bat-time?  At least wait until morning.  You won't know openings to the jungle from side tunnels unless the sun's up."

Ronnie blushed.  "Uh... good point," she conceded, then locked eyes with Teela and smiled.  "I guess I could wait 'til sunrise."  She squirmed closer and flipped the helpless redhead onto her bound arms, caressed the captive's right breast with her left hand and her sex and copper-red bush with the right. Teela squirmed and bit her lower lip.  "One last night... sounds like a plan," Ronnie whispered.

Teela's squirm became a shudder as Ronnie's fingers slid between her labia.  "A plan," she muttered with a scornful sneer.  "I don't think you have any plan at all.  Let me give you a little intelligence.  If you stay on this level, Snakiepoo and her friends will get you.  If you go lower, the morlocks will get you.  If you go up, the dragon-bats will get you.  Anywhere you go... you'll be someone or something's supper."

"I can't just stay here," Ronnie said, withdrawing her fingers and using both hands to rub Teela's flat pale tummy.  "There has to be some way for me to get back to the Spirit-realm.   Someone must know a way.  Okay, so I don't know where I am, don't know the terrain or the local inhabitants, and I don't have a snowball's chance in hell of succeeding."  She gazed at Teela, sadly.  "I have to try."

"My brave, daring, silly Neeka," Teela purred, smiling coyly at her captor.  "I don't know how to get you home... but if you're bored, I've been working on a plan, involving you, a plan that will tweak The Queen's nose, ingratiate us to the ruler of a neighboring kingdom, and maybe get you on your way."

"What plan?"

Teela smiled.  "King Ancillar has misplaced his daughter.  The Bitch-warriors found her.  We sneak into the city, find her, and sneak out again.  The king will shower us with riches, and his magi just might know how to get you home."

Ronnie stared at Teela skeptically.  "Why do you need me for anything?  You're lying. "

"No, really!" Teela swore.  "I've never been able to do more than sneak into Kul'Dakar and right back out again.  The city wards rob me of my powers just like they did you.  Once I'm inside the walls, I'm just a sword maiden pretending to be an amazon; however, I've been consulting with the Apeman shamans, and we think we know a way for The Queen's curse to become her undoing!"

"Go on."

"I enter the city disguised as an amazon with you as my slave.  My token will be on your collar, of course, proof of private ownership, and we use it to bend the city wards away from me and channel them into your collar.  I know none of this makes sense, but that's because the curse on your collar is blocking your witch knowledge."

"No," Ronnie said, "I think I'm following you.  It's like a double curse canceling itself out."

"Uh... no," Teela muttered.  "It's nothing like that... but never mind.  The bottom line is, as long as we're in the city and in line-of-sight of each other, my Spirit-witch powers will be unaffected by the city wards."

"And the effect on me?"

"Gone is gone," Teela said with a smile.  "Kul'Dakar magic can't steal what it has already stolen."

"Very clever... if it works," Ronnie muttered, leaning back on her hands and locked elbows.

"If it doesn't work," Teela said, "I'm just one more non-Spirit-witch amazon leading her pretty brown-haired slave on a leash.  We learn what we can, and walk back out... but if it does work, and we can find Princess Tollie — "

"Meg's crew," Ronnie interrupted.

"What?"

"Thin, very pretty, pale-skin, blue eyes, dark hair?  Easy on the eyes but not particularly bright?"  Teela nodded.  "She's in Valpakra on the crew of a trustee-slave named Meg, tending mushrooms when last I saw her.  The twins like her... poor kid."

Teela stared at Ronnie for several long seconds.  "This can't be coincidence," she said finally.  "This is meant to happen!  Say you'll do it!  Say you'll join me!"

Ronnie returned Teela's stare... then slowly nodded.  "Like I said before... I'm gonna regret this."

Teela squirmed in her bonds, quivering with delight.  "Oh, this is gonna be great!  The Bitch Queen will be livid when she finds out someone pinched one of her Royal hostages right out of Valpakra!  Untie me and we can..."  She stopped talking when she noticed Ronnie refolding and readying her gag.  "Is this any way for a sidekick to treat her hero?" Teela whined as the crumpled wad of already wet silk approached her lips.

"I can be your sidekick tomorrow," Ronnie purred, and stuffed the wad in Teela's unresisting mouth.  Slowly, carefully, with gentle but firm fingers, she packed the silk wad and retied the covering, cleaving bandage of the second piece of silk, restoring Teela's gag.  "Tonight I'm having too much fun being an escaping prisoner who gets to wear clothes and handle weapons.  Let's see what else I can find to do that's fun," she purred, laying atop her hog-tied captive and caressing her breasts, stomach, inner thighs, and sex.  Teela squirmed and shuddered, smiling at her "sidekick" above her gag.  "I'll cook us some dinner a little later... after the bats come home... then we can play all night.  Tomorrow is soon enough to start plotting Princess Tollie's rescue."

It was late at night, long after the return of the bats, long after supper, long after Teela's gag had been returned to her mouth yet again and Ronnie's quest for "fun" had resumed.  Naked as her captive, Ronnie lay with her head on Teela's stomach, gathering her strength for another round of one-sided lovemaking.  Both women were gleaming with sweat.  Ronnie's short bangs were plastered to her forehead and Teela's tousled locks were damp, auburn, and tangled across her gagged face.

Suddenly, there was a green flash, so quick Ronnie thought she might have imagined it.  Then Teela squirmed out from under her and rolled to the side, and Ronnie found herself lying on a tangle of loose ropes, blinking in surprise.

"I like an unselfish sidekick," Teela purred.  Her gag was gone as well (obviously), the damp silk lying on the black fur of the bed near her former bonds.  "That was very sweet of you to make me cum... oh... about a hundred times, and never think of yourself."

Ronnie was half asleep.  "Uh... what?"

"It's after midnight," Teela explained.  Ronnie was still confused.  "It's tomorrow, sidekick."

"Oh," Ronnie muttered, fingering the disordered coils of very much un -knotted rope.  "You could have freed yourself at any time," she accused.

Teela laughed.  "In my own lair?  Tied with my own rope?  I wouldn't be much of a Spirit-witch if I couldn't... would I?"  Ronnie sighed.  "Oh... don't pout, Neeka."  She reached out and caressed the side of Ronnie's face.

Ronnie smiled and snuggled against Teela's hand.  "My hero!" she sighed, then sat up and began sorting and coiling the tangled ropes.

"What are you doing?" Teela muttered.

Ronnie's answer was to cross her own ankles and bind them tightly together.  She then looped coils of rope above and below her breasts.  She pulled the bands as tight as she could, pinning her arms to her sides, tying a rude knot between her breasts, then leaned back on her hands.  "I once told you trust is a gift," Ronnie muttered, then flopped onto her back and rolled over.  She slid her arms back and crossed her wrists atop her firm, dimpled buttocks.  "Sorry to make you finish wrapping your own present," she said with a coy grin.

Teela laughed, picked up the remaining coil of rope, and bound Ronnie's wrists.  She then linked the wrist bonds to Ronnie's self-imposed arm bonds and heaved.  Ronnie's wrists were tied off between her shoulderblades and Teela rolled her captive onto her back.  "That is the sloppiest knot I have ever seen," she scolded, untying the tangle between Ronnie's breasts.  She unwound a couple of bands of rope and used the resulting free ends to hitch Ronnie's remaining arm bonds between her arms and torso, then looped what was left through the grinning captive's armpits from back to front, across her shoulders, and back to the nape of her neck.  Finally, she slid Ronnie's collar from front to back and used the ring to anchor the final knots.

"That's tight," Ronnie groused, squirming in her bonds.

Teela smiled and settled her weight on Ronnie's stomach, then leaned close and kissed the prisoner's lips.  "Tight, restrictive, inescapable... what's your point?"

"Don't I get gagged?" Ronnie asked with an impudent smile.

Teela grinned and slid her weight forward, until her sex was an inch from Ronnie's chin.  "Something like that.  Let's see if that talented tongue of yours has one more orgasm left in it... then I'll show you how unselfish a hero can be.  Don't worry about the time.  We can sleep in tomorrow."

"A sidekick's work is never done," Ronnie sighed.

(All together now)... NO!!!
It's the end of Chapter 6.  :-) Rest assured, Ronnie's Virtual Adventure continues... (...& we get to watch! )
... Stay Tuned for the NEXT thrilling episode of...
◄	Revisit Chapter 5		►