DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
			A SERIAL MELODRAMA by Van © 2003

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 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;" was transported to the Ravishing Redhead's Subterranean Lair... & WAS EATEN BY A GIANT SNAKE!!!  (She got better.)  Rescued again by The Red Ghost (who now lets "Neeka" call her "Teela") the pair have joined forces to fight the hated Kul'Dakar.  Now aided by the Powerful Magic of their allies The Apemen, Teela & Ronnie have reentered the city to rescue Princess Tollie.  Skulking the Vast Labyrinthine Corridors of Valpakra, Our Heroines have captured Captain Elá (& left her naked, slave-collared, bound, & gagged in a torture cell); have bound & gagged Meg the Trustee Slave & her entire work crew; & have rescued Princess Tollie from the Sacred Twins, who are now also bound & gagged!  (It's been a busy night.)  Little do they suspect, however, that Novice Witch-warrior Chandra has Magically detected their intrusion & has been tasked to find them (with a contingent of Kul'Dakar Warrior Elites shadowing her!)  Temporarily alone, Ronnie has been CAPTURED by Chandra! ...but Teela has returned!!!

Chandra's hand went to her dagger... but the red-haired Panther Captain before her had a drawn saber, and its point was less than an inch from her throat.  She allowed her inner vision to focus on her opponent's aura...  "It's you!"

Teela nodded.  "'Tis I," she confirmed, with a coy smile.  "So... Witchlet, are you a kitten? ...or a chick?"  Her saber point tapped Chandra's Witch-tool earring.  "Never mind.  Sea Hawk motif.  You worship the Wind Walker, specifically, the Water-wing avatar.  Impressive.  A very exclusive subcult.  Nearly as exclusive as the Swimming Tiger.  You must have impressed somebody with your raw, bumbling talent."

Chandra's cheeks colored.  Her hands clenched, but she wasn't stupid enough to attempt to draw her dagger.  She'd be dead before the blade began sliding from its sheath.  "You... you're not even Kul'Dakar," she accused, glaring defiantly at the redhead.  "Are you?"

"You talk like that's a bad thing," Teela purred.

Bound hand and foot and lying on her side, Ronnie watched the exchange.  Princess Tollie watched as well, equally helpless in a cross-legged crunch, her wrists bound behind her back and up to the back of her collar, the front of her collar linked to her ankles, and cleave-gagged with one of the Sacred Twins' stock of slave loincloths.  And speaking of the Sacred Twins, one was bound in a spread-eagle to an "X" frame, the other hog-tied to an iron pentacle, were busy giving or receiving oral sex.  Both were blinded and deafened by leather hoods, the spread-eagled twin was gagged, and the hog-tied twin's mouth was strapped against her sister's crotch.  Thus both were totally oblivious to the drama unfolding before them.

Teela placed the tip of her saber under Chandra's chin and applied gentle pressure upwards.  Still glaring, Chandra slowly and gracefully climbed to her feet.  "Do you surrender, Witchlet?" Teela asked.

Chandra's glare intensified to a scowl.  If the red haired intruder knew as much about Kul'Dakar cults as she had already revealed, she knew an amazon never surrendered.  "I am Chandra of the Corps of Witch-warriors!" she growled.  "Slit my throat if you want, but don't insult my honor!"  With a scream of defiance, her right hand tightened around her dagger hilt, her left curled into a Gesture of Power as she invoked a shield spell, and she lunged forward, intent on striking her opponent, even at the cost of her life.

Three things happened very quickly: (1) Ronnie used her bound feet to trip the attacking "Witchlet;" (2) Teela executed a side-step riposte and delivered a very business-like thump with the flat of her saber behind Chandra's right ear; and (3) Chandra crumpled to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Working quickly and professionally, Teela sliced and removed Chandra's bandeau and loincloth, then sheathed her saber.  She removed the novice Witch-warrior's earring (the focus of her nascent powers), dropped it in her pouch, and began binding the unconscious young amazon.  She stuffed one of the Sacred Twins' cache of slave loincloths in Chandra's mouth, then used another to give her a tight cleave-gag.  Binding fiber was used to tie her crossed wrists behind her back, then a coil of hemp to pin her arms to her side.  The taut bands passed above and below her breasts, were hitched between her arms and torso, yoked her shoulders, and linked her bound wrists to the lower bands, locking her elbows against the ropes.  It was the same tie Chandra had used to bind Ronnie, and was a standard Kul'Dakar technique for securing slaves and prisoners.

Teela rummaged through the twins' slave handling supplies until she found a standard slave collar, locked the iron ring around the bound and gagged blonde's neck, and dropped the key in her pouch.  She then used Chandra's dagger to sever Ronnie's ankle bonds, and tossed the blade away.  Ronnie scrambled to her feet.  "I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?" Teela muttered with a teasing smile.

"I was following my orders, Mistress," Ronnie responded defensively, then nodded towards Chandra.  "What's her story?  A wandering guard?"

Teela shook her head and began untying Princess Tollie's ankles.  "I don't think so.  A thread of her aura's on a dual harmonic with the shield spell we cast on your collar.  I think she was drawn to you... to us.  Rotten luck... for her."  Teela dragged Tollie to her feet and began binding her upper body in an identical manner to Ronnie and Chandra.

"You aren't gonna hurt her," Ronnie mumbled, gazing at the pretty little bound and gagged Witch-warrior, "are you?"

"I ought to slit her throat," Teela hissed, and Ronnie began to object.  "No, no, don't have a cow," Teela muttered.  "I won't 'hurt' her."  She rummaged for more rope and began linking the naked captives (not counting the still writhing, oblivious, and very busy twins) collar to collar.  "Actually, the Apeman shamans could learn a great deal from a captured Witch-warrior... even a novice.  It'll be risky, but I think we'll take her with us."  By this time, she had finished arranging her coffle of three.  Chandra was in the lead, Tollie in the middle, and Ronnie would be eating the column's dust.

Teela slapped Chandra's face several times.  The little blonde blinked, mewed through her gag, then came fully awake.  She twisted in her bonds, and glared at her captor.  "Oh goddess," Teela purred.  "If looks could kill, I believe I'd be dead about seven times."  She grabbed Chandra's collar, pulled her to her feet, and nodded towards Ronnie.  "My slave over there... the Neeka with the pretty brown eyes?"  Ronnie blushed and glared at her Mistress, but said nothing.  "She'll be very upset if I have to gut you," Teela continued, "but if you give me any trouble, that's exactly what I'll do.  I'll also hamstring you and leave you for the scavengers.  Understand?"

Chandra continued glaring, then slowly nodded.

"That's right, Witchlet," Teela whispered.  "Bide your time and wait for your chance... but do as I tell you, when I tell you."  She released Chandra's collar and stepped in front of Tollie.  "As for you, Princess... ditto."  Tollie nodded, her blue eyes wide and happy.  Apparently "Her Highness" had finally decided she was glad to be leaving the city.  Teela continued down the line and regarded Ronnie.

"You know I'll obey your orders, Mistress," Ronnie cooed, a coy, impertinent grin on her face.

"Just you wait," Teela muttered, stooping and retrieving Ronnie's gag from the stone floor where Chandra had tossed it.  She shook out the coarse linen, dislodging most of the dirt and sand.  "I'm going to really enjoy teaching you some manners after we get back to the lair."  She thrust the cloth between Ronnie's teeth and tied it at the nape of Ronnie's neck.  "There are a lot of guards milling around on the roof," she whispered in Ronnie's ear as she compacted and tied the gag's knot.  "I cast a confusion spell to slow them down, but we have to travel, fast and far.  I'll handle the Witch-whelp.  You keep the Princess moving.  We'll take the cavern road.  No food or rest for the next two days and nights, at least."  She stepped in front of Ronnie, and the redhead and brunette locked eyes.  Teela's manner softened.  "A coffle of slaves being hustled through Valpakra is nearly as invisible as a dragon-bat on a moonless night," she explained.  "Sorry I have to treat you like this," she muttered, "but it's for the best, okay?"

Ronnie smiled above her gag and gave her Mistress a playful kick with one bare foot.

Teela's smile returned.  "Just you wait," she whispered, then walked to the Sacred Twins' weapons cache, selected a short sword and gave it a swing to test its balance.  Satisfied, she tucked the blade through her harness, then returned to the front of the coffle and took Chandra's lead in her left hand.  "Trail step!  Double speed!" she ordered, gave the lead a snap, and the coffle stepped off.

Teela and her captives made it off the roof without any trouble whatsoever.  The red-haired "Panther" led her coffle down a side corridor, thumbed a hidden lever, and a stone slab rumbled aside to reveal a spiral stair case, leading down.  "This is one of the secret military passages used to reposition troops in case of attack," she explained to her "slaves."  She smiled at Chandra as the stone slab rumbled closed and she threw a second lever.  There was a hollow ping followed by the clatter of a falling chain.  "There, the counterweight is disengaged."  The only light was a dim, indirect flicker from a torch on the next landing.  She leaned close to Chandra's face.  "I know all of the city's secrets, Kul'Dakar Whelp," she purred, then gave her lead a jerk and the journey continued.

The coffle descended the cramped, narrow steps with deliberate speed.  At every landing Teela paused to disengage the exit's counterweight, and they continued.  Ronnie lost track of the number of levels they passed.  All four women were beginning to sweat in the close, humid air of the confined space, and eventually the bound captives were panting through their nostrils and gags.  "Don't worry," Teela said as she sealed yet another exit, "you'll get your second winds by the time we reach Fire Chasm Bridge."

Chandra mewed through her gag with alarm and fought her bonds and leash.  "That's right, Witchlet," Teela purred, a gloating smile on her face.  "I know how to bypass the labyrinth defenses and get directly to the main caverns, and once we're there..."  She leaned close and locked eyes with the defiant (frightened) young amazon.  "...an entire brigade of the Queen's best Scouts won't be able to follow our trail."

The descent continued until they came to a final landing, larger than all that had come before.  To the side was a small storeroom, mostly stocked with bundles of arrows and javelins and baskets of sling stones.  There were also skins of watered wine and carefully wrapped trail rations.  Teela availed herself of this bounty, slinging a skin of wine, a satchel of rations, and a bow and quiver.  Her coffle panted and watched, catching their breaths, then moaned when Teela draped each of them with a skin and ration satchel of their own.  "You don't expect me to carry everything, do you?" she whispered in Ronnie's ear as she settled the straps on Ronnie's shoulders (and copped a feel of her full, firm breasts).  The bound and gagged slave affected a hurt pout, but the effect was spoiled by the amusement in her eyes.

As Teela steped back to the front, Chandra twisted and fought her bonds, then craned her neck to eye the stairs they'd just descended.  Ronnie forced a negative sound through her gag and shook her head.  The little blonde glared at her "fellow slave" and sighed.  With all the exits disabled, it wasn't a real escape route anyway, even if she wasn't bound, gagged, and tethered to a pair of uncooperative fugitives.

Teela triggered the landing's secret door and led her coffle through.  They found themselves in a dark tunnel.  The well-camouflaged door closed and disappeared into the natural walls.  The tunnel led them through several twists and turns, widened into a jumble of pillars and boulders, then opened into a huge cavern.  Magnificent galleries of stalactites and stalagmites surrounded them, all glowing with bioluminescent fungi.

Teela led her charges with unerring precision down a faint, branching trail.  Minutes later, they came to a wide chasm bridged by a narrow stone arch.  "The exit tunnel ahead is the limit of the city's wards," Teela explained.

As they crossed the span, Ronnie looked down and beheld what at first she thought was the body of a fantastic snake or worm, glowing orange-red and slowly crawling along under the bridge; then she realized it was a flowing river of molten lava, hundreds of meters beneath their feet.  She shuddered and picked up her pace, concentrating on Princess Tollie's pale, flashing legs and firm, dimpled rear.  

Ahead, Teela was in the exit tunnel; but as Chandra crossed the threshold, she executed a swing kick and her right heel slammed into a niche in the tunnel wall.  She then  tried to lunge towards the bridge, but blundered directly into Tollie instead.  All three captives were jerked to the ground by their leads and were pulled forward, landing heavily in a jumble of thrashing legs and tangled wine skins and satchels.  Simultaneously, there was a loud snap, followed by a sliding crash.

The dust settled... and Ronnie found herself just across the threshold of the tunnel, her gagged face inches from a row of iron spikes!  She lifted her head and found the rope lead on her collar had been cut.  A heavy iron portcullis had descended from the ceiling and slammed into the floor, blocking the entire tunnel.  The thick bars of the gate were festooned with sharp spikes and the base was formed into a sharp, sawtooth blade.  This was what had severed Ronnie from the coffle.  It had also pierced Tollie's wine skin, and the watery fluid had soaked the mewing, complaining princess.  Worst of all, Teela, Chandra, and Tollie were on the far side of the portcullis; and Ronnie was all alone on the city side of the heavy iron grate... but she wouldn't be alone for long.  A Kul'Dakar horn blew in the distance, and was joined by a second, and then a third!

Her left hand in Chandra's hair, Teela drew her saber and was at the bars.  "Come as close as you can!" she shouted, and Ronnie edged towards the rows of horizontal spikes.  Teela carefully extended her saber between the vertical bars, and deftly sliced a portion of Ronnie's bonds.  Ronnie turned and leaned even closer, and her wrist bonds were severed as well.

Teela turned and pulled the Chandra's face close to her own.  "You're going to wish I had slit your throat, you Kul'Dakar scorpion!" Teela hissed.  Chandra winced as Teela's hand twisted in her hair, but glared at her captor, still defiant.  "I'm going to make you beg for death," Teela continued.  "Say nightie-night, Bitch," she hissed, put her arm around the blonde prisoner's neck, and expertly squeezed shut the arteries supplying Chandra's brain.  Chandra kicked and struggled feebly, but in a few moments she slumped unconscious to the tunnel floor.

By this time Ronnie had shrugged out of her ropes and pulled down her gag.  "Don't hurt her!" she begged.

Teela gazed through the gate at Ronnie, tears in her angry eyes.  "Oh, I'm going to hurt her," she growled, "but I won't kill her.  Don't worry.  She'll be awake in about an hour, once we're clear of any other surprises the Bitch-warriors might have hidden in the area."  She examined her side of the portcullis, looking for a means to lift the tons of cold iron, then lowered her gaze to stare sadly at her slave (and lover).  They both knew the barrier had been specifically designed to make escape impossible, that there was no means to even budge the heavy gate.  Teela pulled the short sword from her belt and handed it between the bars to Ronnie, hilt first.  "I... I'll come back for you!" she promised.  "Find a place to hide, conserve your food and water, and—"

She was interrupted by a Kul'Dakar horn, much closer this time, and they could hear the faint, echoing sound of shouted orders back in the main cavern.

Ronnie shook her head.  "Not gonna happen, my love," she whispered.  "Don't even try.  They'll have traps waiting for you."

Tears were running down Teela's face.  "I... I can't—"

"You can, my love."  Ronnie was crying as well.  "The Red Ghost is strong, and clever, and can't be caught, and you have to carry on the fight."

 "Fuck the Red Ghost!" Teela screamed.

The horn sounded again, even closer.

"Oh... I'd very much like to 'fuck the Red Ghost'," Ronnie said, a sad, quivering smile on her lips, "one last time.  Maybe we'll meet again in the next life.  Now go."

Teela continued staring into Ronnie's moist, brown eyes.  "I..."

"Go," Ronnie whispered.  She took a step back and whipped the short sword in a quick, whistling, figure-eight pass.  "Go."

Still weeping, Teela lifted Chandra's unconscious, bound, gagged, and tethered form onto her shoulder.  The little amazon's limp legs were to the front and her lolling head to the rear.  Teela gave Ronnie a final sad, longing look; and hurried away into the darkness, pulling the bound, gagged, wet and muddy (and also weeping) Princess Tollie in her wake.

"Go," Ronnie whispered a final time, then turned to face the bridge.

On the far side of the dark chasm she found a squad of Kul'Dakar Scouts with drawn bows.  Ronnie was their target, of course.  At their head, directly on the approach to the bridge, was a Kul'Dakar in full plate armor.  She was obviously one of the Warrior Elite.  Ronnie examined the emblem on her breastplate: Hawk and Panther heads with a stylized rose blossom in their jaws.  The Queen's Champion herself!

The armored amazon raised her left gauntlet, then slowly lowered her clenched fist.  The Scout archers eased their bows, but kept their notched arrows at the ready.  Her drawn broadsword in her right hand, the Champion took several slow, deliberate, fluid (and oddly silent) steps forward.

Ronnie gazed into her eyes, let her wine skin and ration satchel drop to the ground, and slowly settled into ready stance.  The Champion was very beautiful, with tan, strong, even features; and her eyes were the most amazing shade of green.  She carried herself with the automatic grace of a highly trained fighter, evident even in full armor.

Seconds passed... and finally the Champion spoke.  Her voice was a husky alto.  "I can offer you nothing," she said.  "You are a slave with a blade in your hand, a spy and invader... and, if reports are to believed, a condemned criminal returned from the dead... I can offer you nothing."

Ronnie smiled.  She was surprised to find herself totally without fear.  She was going to die... either quickly... or slowly and in great agony.  "Well... if you're feeling generous, you could always shuck all that armor, borrow a short sword, and give me a fair fight."

The Champion shook her head with a sad smile.  " Unfortunately, fairness is not at issue.   You are very brave," she said softly, her words not carrying to her troops.  "I can tell you have a Martial Spirit, worthy of respect.  You are that rarest of treasures: a Warrior-slave; a soul that can be gifted, but will not be broken... but you have information She requires, information you must share with Her Pain-givers as you die."  She half-turned and tossed her broadsword to one of the Scouts, who caught it by the hilt.  The Champion then reached into the tops of her steel-clad boots and produced a pair of daggers with short, dull blades and long, fork-like guards.  Ronnie knew what they were for: catching a sword blade and holding it in check.  "My duty is clear.  I wish I could give you a clean death in battle... send you to your goddess like the warrior you are... but my duty is clear."  She gazed at Ronnie and shook her head sadly.  "Brave and beautiful; strong and graceful..." the Champion whispered.  "Such a pity."  Her eyes never leaving Ronnie's, she pitched her voice to carry back over her shoulder.  "I want a double-strength capture squad led by an Expert Handler here as soon as possible, with catch poles, lassos, and nets."

Ronnie watched as one of the Scouts slung her bow, turned, and sprinted into the darkness.  The remaining archers returned their war arrows to their quivers, and produced blunt-tipped arrows designed to deliver stunning blows.  Ronnie's gaze returned to the Champion.  "Back in Valpakra, in one of the punishment cells, you'll find a blonde slave, bound and gagged in a spiked cage.  Her name is Elá, and she's not a slave."

A smile flickered across the Champion's features.  "Captain Elá?"  Ronnie nodded.  "I told you—"

"I know, you can offer me nothing," Ronnie interrupted.  "I just don't want her to die in that cage."

The Champion was puzzled.  "But—"

"She captured me?" Ronnie suggested.  "She buried me alive in the Caverns of Kor; bound, gagged and helpless; food for the beetles?"

The Champion nodded.

"I'm not Kul'Dakar," Ronnie explained. "Casual cruelty is not one of my virtues.  And I may be a slave... but I'm not your slave."  

"I don't understand," the Champion whispered.

"I know," Ronnie responded.  Only one option remained.  She might not know the path to Teela's lair, or the city of the Apemen... but she might know something the Kul'Dakar could use... something that could put her friends in danger.  She lifted her gaze to the stalactites overhead.  They glowed in several different shades of blue and green, and fireflies were flitting among them, flashing and blinking.  "Beautiful... isn't it?  ...the play of the light?"

The Champion nodded.  Her expression was one of great sadness; even compassion.  "Yes... these caverns are justly famous."

Ronnie nodded.  I love you, Teela!  She tossed her sword to the Champion's feet, turned to her right, took three careful steps, and launched herself into the void, executing a perfect swan dive.

Suddenly, there was a loud swooshing noise, blinding light was everywhere, and cool air swirled around her reclined body.  Ronnie sat up, blinking and trying to focus.   She was naked, completely naked, and in some sort of padded, body-shaped cavity... an open sarcophagus!  Her eyes began to adapt... and she found two figures looming over her.  One was...

The Queen!  She was dressed in everyday armor, leather decorated with various badges and medals.  The other figure was...

The Queen's champion!  Her plate armor was gone, replaced by leather nearly identical to that worn by her Royal Mistress.

Ronnie was in some sort of thaumaturgical laboratory: elaborate glass distilling apparatus clamped to metal bars and hanging from suspending chains; bottles and jars full of various herbs, fluids, and... things (some of which were moving);  various frames, chairs, and tables with dangling straps and open manacles and shackles; and—

The laboratory was gone in a flash, replaced by... Game Design's "secret" SPHERUS facility.  Ronnie's head swiveled to The Queen and her Champion... and found Margo Wells (!!!) and her bodyguard!  Margo was dressed in a business suit (probably Armani), and her protector in a leather catsuit, and—

It was The Queen!

It was Margo!

Reality itself was continuously flashing and changing, all around her!  The Queen/Margo/The Queen took a step forward.  "No!" Ronnie shouted, her face twisted with hatred.  "You won't take me!"  Her hands clinched into fists and she lunged towards the Kul'Dakar monarch.  From the corner of her eye she saw the Champion/bodyguard begin to move, then—

Ronnie's eyes opened... and focused on the ceiling.  A series of identical, recessed lighting fixtures were passing... no, she was passing... was moving.  The lights were standing still.  Ronnie blinked and squirmed... and discovered her condition.  She was naked and was bound hand and foot: ankles together, knees together, wrists together and behind her back, and her arms pinned to her sides!  Her bonds were some sort of plastic or tape; tight, wide, and nearly transparent.  And something was over her mouth... a piece of tape, probably.  And she was in the arms of Margo Wells!  The richest woman in the world was carrying her down a mirrored corridor.  The bodyguard was in the lead, her catsuited body gliding along with feline grace.  

Margo gazed down at her burden and smiled.  "Sleeping Beauty awakes," she purred.  "Sorry Kat had to give you a thump, but you came out of VR a little... disoriented.  That's what happens when you make an unauthorized tap into a private network with untested patches on your critical control programs."

Ronnie tried to answer, momentarily forgetting her tape-gag.  She mewed several "words," then blushed bright crimson.

Margo chuckled, her gaze taking in all of Ronnie's tan, smooth skin and bound form.  "Sorry for the... precautions," she said, "but Kat insists.  After all, you did try and attack me, and could do so again at any moment."

The bodyguard turned her head as she walked.  "That's right," she said sarcastically, "it's all my idea."  She eyed Ronnie's naked, helpless body, and smiled.  "You sure you don't want me to carry her?"

Margo laughed.  "She ain't heavy; she's my employee," the billionaire quipped.

The bodyguard ('Kat', Ronnie remembered), rolled her eyes and faced front.

Ronnie was still in something of a daze.  She had a headache, every muscle in her body was sore... and I'm naked, bound and gagged, and being carried by the boss! ...the big boss!  ...Margo Wells!  Still blushing, she struggled weakly, and blinked back tears.

Margo's smile became very kind.  "There, there, easy Veronica.  You're not in trouble.  You did violate several important company rules, but I encourage initiative in my team members.  It's Liz I'm angry with.  She should have know better.  Filching one of my new N-SPHERUS units is bad enough, but not noticing that the entire network interface is redesigned and that half the bus arrays are now hard-wired?  Not running even one simulation involving your interrupt patches?  Culpable negligence!"  Ronnie shook her head, then tried to nod towards herself.  Margo understood her meaning.  "Oh, you're culpable as well, Young Lady," she continued, a smile softening her words; "but Liz is the Master Malfeasant in your little conspiracy."

Ronnie was miserable.  She squirmed and forced what came out as a begging whimper past her gag.  Margo chuckled and shook her head.  "Don't worry.  Liz is far too valuable for me to do without.  Who'd coach our soccer team?"  She winked at Ronnie.  "Don't tell her I said that.  She'll want a raise." A single tear streamed down Ronnie's face.  "Oh, don't cry, Veronica," Margo cooed.  "I won't punish Liz. I promise.  Besides, once she reviews the logs and realizes what her carelessness put you through, nothing I can do to her would be worse that what she'll be doing to herself."

"You want me to try?" Kat called back over her shoulder.  "Do something that would be worse, I mean."

Margo laughed.  "Thank you, no," she answered.  "I won't punish you either, Veronica," she whispered, and kissed Ronnie's wet cheek.  "Now don't cry.  You'll make Kat sad."

Kat snorted with disgust, but didn't comment.  The journey continued through a double set of automatically opening doors, and Ronnie found herself in a luxurious apartment.  The decor was Modern, but with a sensitivity for exotic wood grains and natural earth tones.  Ronnie was deposited on a huge circular bed, set in an alcove with a dome of glass overhead.  It was night, and rain was drizzling over the glass, half-obscuring what appeared to be a vast, magnificent garden.  It was too dark to be sure.

Kat remained by the door, and Margo went to a desk across the room and tapped several keys on a recessed keypad.  The large, mirrored wall opposite the desk flashed and resolved into the image of—the High Mistress of Valpakra!!!—no (Ronnie blinked), it was the primary avatar of the EVE-6900.

"Good evening, Eve," Margo said.  "Report, please."

"Good evening, Ms. Wells," the image responded.  "My medical expert system has reviewed the session's sensor logs and has formed the prognosis that Ms. Allbriton will fully recover from her ordeal, with no physiological or psychological aftereffects.  Three independent systems with whom I have consulted agree."

"Delayed trauma?" Margo asked, gazing at Ronnie with concern.

"Highly improbable," Eve continued, then indicated a small steel tray on the desk in front of her creator.  "I've prepared a hypodermic for our patient, to ease her symptoms and help her sleep.  In the morning she will experience a general soreness, but will be able to resume her duties."

Margo lifted a compact gas injector from the tray, as well as a small square of white gauze, then walked towards the bed.  "I think we can afford to give Game Division's most gifted cultural designer a little sick leave."  She swabbed the side of Ronnie's neck with the swab, then held the injector to her skin.  "Hold still," she ordered, and triggered the release.

Ronnie squirmed in her bonds.  The pad had been wet and cool; the injection a gentle burn.

Margo leaned close and kissed her forehead.  "Go to sleep, Veronica," she whispered.  "A few days of being pampered in my private spa will do wonders."

Ronnie stretched in her bonds.  She felt better already.  She smiled up at Margo, snuggled her bound, naked body against the smooth, soft covers of the pleasantly firm bed... and closed her eyes.

Ronnie opened her eyes.  Overhead, she beheld a dome of glass, and beyond that dome, far overhead, was more glass, in prismatic folds, like the facets of a jumble of huge quartz crystals.  Through the upper glass she could see clouds and sky, and it was dawn.   Last night's rain must have been artificial, she reasoned.  Ronnie was on her back, with her arms at her sides and legs together... and a little tentative squirming confirmed that she was bound.  She felt resistance above her elbows and across her chest, around each wrist and its matching thigh, around her knees, and around her ankles.  Ronnie couldn't see her bonds because the soft, warm covers of the bed were tucked under her chin.  Her head was resting on a soft pillow.  She was not gagged.

Ronnie lifted her head and confirmed she was still in Margo Wells' apartment.  (She guessed it was Margo's apartment.)  In the light of early dawn the luxurious space was still elegant and beautiful, more so, as the garden beyond the dome was now visible.  The apartment was above and within a vast enclosed space, and the "garden" was better described as a small park, with groves of mature trees, as well as flowering bushes, flowerbeds, waterfalls and pools, and ropes of flowering vines festooning the surrounding architecture.

And speaking of elegant and beautiful, Margo Wells herself was seated at her desk.  Her hair was damp and tousled, and she was dressed in a full-length robe of ivory silk.  She smiled at Ronnie (sending a thrill through Ronnie's helpless body), then tapped a key on the desk.  On the far wall the document she had been working on shrank to a small icon, then the screen itself dissolved to a featureless mirror.

Margo swiveled her chair and smiled at Ronnie.  Her long, white legs were crossed and exposed between the folds of her robe.  "Good morning, Veronica," she said, then stood and walked towards the bed.

"Uh... good morning," Ronnie whispered.  Margo was very beautiful, more beautiful than she looked on TV; or in the magazines; or at the podium, the several times Ronnie had sat in an audience of her fellow TESSERACT team members and listened to their leader speak; even more beautiful than the time Ronnie had been in a small conference of her fellow designers and Margo had made a surprise visit, congratulating them on their latest triumph.  Margo's robe was only loosely wrapped around her lithe, toned body, and cinched at the waist.  A sliver of perfect skin was visible from her throat to just above her navel (as were the inner slopes of her firm breasts) .

"I thought you were going to sleep the day away," Margo teased.  "How do you feel?"

Ronnie stretched in her bonds.  "A little sore... but not too bad."  She glanced to the side, and realized from the way the covers were disturbed... that she had almost certainly shared the bed during the night.  Margo sat on the bed and gently pulled the covers away from Ronnie's body.  Ronnie gazed down and discovered her bonds were more of the same translucent tape that had rendered her helpless earlier, after she emerged from VR and attacked her hostess.

"Kat insisted that you remain in restraints," Margo explained.  "It's the only way she would let you share my bed."  She reached out and caressed Ronnie's shoulder.  "And I had to let you share my bed, so I would know you were truely all right.  I changed things to let you sleep more comfortably.  The dermafoam isn't too tight, is it?"

Ronnie shook her head.  "No," she whispered.

Margo's hand slid down Ronnie's arm and rested on her flat stomach.  "I've already been up a couple of hours," she explained.  "...handled a little paper..."  Her hand began a slow, steady massage of Ronnie's abdomen, sliding from the band of tape encircling her arms and torso just below her breasts, to just above her pubis.  "...had my morning run..."  She leaned forward and began using both hands, allowing her hands to brush the undersides of Ronnie's breasts and her fingers to slide between the curls of her luxurious pubic bush.  "Does this feel good?" she inquired.

Ronnie shuddered in her bonds and pointed her toes.  "Yes," she whispered, biting her lower lip and stifling a moan.

"Massage will be an important part of your therapy," Margo explained, continuing her gentle, deep, firm ministrations.  Her hands explored further, sliding over Ronnie's arms, shoulders, and thighs."

Ronnie shivered.  "You... you shouldn't."

"Hush," Margo whispered, and included Ronnie's breasts... and finally her sex in her continuing massage.  "I don't mind.  You have a very beautiful body, Veronica.  I can tell you're very tense.  I can help you with that."  Her right hand slid between Ronnie's labia, and began a slow, cunning manipulation of the helpless 'patient's' clitoris.  "I don't mind helping you.  You don't mind if I help you, do you?"

"Noooo..." Ronnie moaned.  Her meaning wasn't clear (even to herself).

Margo pulled the sash from her robe.  Ronnie's eyes focused on Margo's breasts, pert and perfect, first revealed and then hidden as her robe fell open and then fell closed.  The sash was thrust between Ronnie's teeth and cinched at the nape of her neck, then the free ends were wrapped around her head and back through her teeth twice more from each side.  A final, neat square knot was tied and compacted between Ronnie's pouting lips.  "That's to make sure you don't bite your tongue," Margo explained with a coy smile as she straightened Ronnie's bangs, "during your 'therapy.'"  Her hands resumed their skilled massage.

Ronnie strained against her inescapable, gentle bonds, and mewed through her gag.  It was wonderful.  It was terrible.  She loved it.  She hated it.  (She felt wicked and wanton and hoped it would never stop.)

Margo paused to shrug out of her robe.  She was now as naked as her "patient."  She slid under the covers and snuggled close, then her hands returned to Ronnie's sex.  "Yes... the release of tension will be an important part of your therapy," she purred, captured Ronnie's right nipple in her mouth, and gave the erect nubbin a gentle bite.

Ronnie fought her bonds, savoring the feel of Margo's skin against her own, aware that orgasm was near, that she could do nothing to stop it (as if she wanted to stop it).  Margo's skilled manipulation continued, and continued, and Ronnie writhed and struggled, thrusting her sex against Margo's hand, pressing her breast against Margo's lips.  Finally, inevitably, Ronnie screamed through her gag and climaxed.  The single joyous/mournful word she uttered was muffled by the bands of silk, but not in her mind.  Teela!!!

But stay tuned for the THRILLING POST-CONCLUSION (AFTERGLOW?) of Ronnie Allbriton, Slave of Kul'Dakar-Trapped in Time!
Yep, this puppy has an EPILOGUE!
In the meanwhile... ... Stay Tuned for the NEXT thrilling episode of...
◄	Revisit Chapter 9		►