Mistress Kathys Wicked Protege Ch 09

By mid-morning, the clouds had dispersed across the island. The mountaintop that concealed the Great Hall was now visible from the Citadel, not that anyone at the Citadel could stop fighting long enough to look.

Between the mountain and the Citadel, three determined women sped toward the battle on stolen motorcycles. Their outrageously sexy outfits did not match the grim expressions on their faces. With no radios and no phones, they had no way of knowing how their friends in the fight were faring. They only knew that help was needed and that the lives of their friends were hanging in the balance.

The first indication they saw of how the battle might be going was the sight of a lone pony girl in full gallop pulling an empty sulky. Her elbows and wrists were fastened tightly behind her back, her hands were locked inside bondage mittens, and her head was secured in a bridle with a bit. She was desperate to distance herself from the danger behind her.

The three women stopped to help. How could they not?

"There's fighting everywhere!" the girl sobbed when her bit was removed. "I had to run! I didn't know what else to do!"

"What's your name?" asked Emily.

"Amy," said the pony girl.

"You did the right thing, Amy. You couldn't have done anything else."

"Do you know how the fight is going?" asked Jackie.

"I heard Darlene's voice," said Amy. "She said the One Who Escaped has returned. Is it true? Do you know where he is? Is he with you?"

Emily hesitated, then looked at Jamie who turned away and stared sorrowfully at the ground.

None of them had any idea what to say, but Amy's question could not be ignored.

Emily swallowed hard and told a lie.

"He's fine."

In a secret cave not far away, two dominant women with bright swords and old grudges violently attacked each other with murder in their hearts.

"You made me blame myself!" screamed Eve as the swords clanged together. "You let me believe what happened to you was

my

fault!"

Eve struck relentlessly against Helga's upraised blade, forcing her former mistress backward into increasingly more defensive positions.

"You're good with a sword!" admitted Helga with a grudging smile.

"I took a fencing class!"

Eve's attack forced Helga backward toward the peir.

"You never told me about your stupid professor and your horny classmates!" yelled Eve. "Your lab partners poisoned you!

They

drove you mad, not me! Your grudge was always against them!"

Helga became enraged, stopping her retreat. "You've been reading my personal files! How dare you!" She thrust her sword unexpectedly against her opponent, forcing Eve to lurch backward.

The two women paused, staring at each other, chests heaving mightily as each caught their breaths.

"Of course, I did," panted Eve. "I had time to peek at your files, since your Academy guards have been losing so badly. Have you ever noticed that in a fair fight,

they suck?"

Eve renewed her attack against her tormentor with veangeful swings, but Helga showed no fear. Each blow was parried by Helga's blade.

"You don't know everything about me!" spat Helga.

"What have I left out?"

Again the women paused their attacks. Sweat stung Eve's eyes, but she did not lower her blade. Helga seemed unconcerned that her own hair was damp from the swim or that her breasts seemed intent on escaping her rubber bikini top.

"Since we're all about disclosing secrets," said Helga, "here's one more. When my classmates spiked my drink all those years ago, I watched them do it."

"What?"

"I knew. I drank it anyway. They thought it would make me more submissive, but I knew better than that—because

you

made me understand my true nature. I knew the drug would

release

that nature—and make me stronger!"

Helga thrust her sword with unexpected grace, forcing Eve into a retreat.

"I was tired of being manipulated by men!" Helga continued her attack. "I drank the potion they gave me because I craved it! In the end, I got what I wanted, and they got what they

deserved!"

Helga paused, noticing Eve's unsteady footing.

"Getting winded, Darlene?" mocked Helga. "I admit I was a little tired from my swim. But while you've been ineffectually hacking and chopping, I've been gathering my strength."

Eve thrust her blade. Helga blocked with her own. Their swords locked.

"You say you took fencing?" hissed the fiery domme.

"I used to TEACH it!"

Helga pushed Eve's sword backward and attacked like a thing possessed. Eve realized that Helga had been playing with her, as she had always done, testing the limits of her enemies before breaking them. Now Helga screamed defiantly as each blow struck, pounding the strength from Eve with practiced skill, until Eve's back was against the wall.

Helga struck the sword from Eve's hand.

"You're beaten!" she boasted, her sword pointing at Eve's throat. The grinning domme kicked the fallen sword into the water.

"All that's left for you now is your

lesson!

The one that I promised you."

The point of Helga's sword found the zipper in Eve's catsuit and pulled it down past her navel.

"That suit of yours. Silly thing. That's not what a pony wears." Helga bared her clenched teeth as she spoke. "Take it off."

Eve's eyes grew narrow with defiance.

"Go to hell."

The domme was overcome with rage.

"YOU,"

she screamed, raising her sword,

"FIRST!"

Helga felt a stinging sensation in her neck. She reached for her throat and pulled out a dart.

Looking to her left, she saw a man naked and dripping wet. Slung around his neck was Mistress Kathy's tranquilizer gun.

"Had one dart left," panted Adam. "Now say good night and shut the fuck up."

Helga twirled around once as she saw the cave grow fuzzy and incoherent. This wasn't how her day was supposed to end. She had made plans—wonderful plans.

She still looked astonished when she fell unconscious to the floor.

Adam and Eve stared at each other, both of them exhausted, neither of them completely understanding what had led up to this moment.

"Are you all right?" asked Adam at last.

"Are you?" she asked. "You look different."

"How so?"

"I don't know. . . . A little less . . . submissive."

"But I'm always submissive," he answered, "to you, my Mistress."

"Good answer," she said as she ran into his arms. "Hold me. That's an order."

He didn't ask what had transpired between her and Helga. She didn't ask why he was wet. The only question to be asked now was rhetorical.

"Remember where we first made love?" she whispered.

"How could I forget? It's floating over there."

She took his hand, and they walked toward the boat, but they were regrettably interrupted.

"You're alive!" shouted Emily, standing breathlessly at the tunnel entrance. Jamie and Jackie stood behind her with identical expressions of surprise. All three had weapons drawn in anticipation of a fight.

"We're okay," said Adam. "We actually have a prisoner. Helga, again."

Emily lowered her whip as Jamie and Jackie sheathed their swords in relief.

"You should have

seen

him, Darlene," said Emily. "Helga jumped off the ledge into the river, and we all wondered where the river flowed out. Adam said, 'I think I know,' then grabbed our tranq gun and jumped off after her. We all thought he was dead!"

"You jumped off a ledge?" asked Eve. "You?"

"When I realized where Helga went, I was afraid not to," Adam admitted.

Jamie and Jackie picked up the sleeping Helga. "We'll take the prisoner off your hands," said Jamie.

"The fighting's over," said Emily. "We won! The guards are still surrendering, and Highmother's making decisions about what to do with the prisoners. Now that she knows Darlene is still alive, she wants to see her as soon as possible."

Emily would not be denied. Adam toweled off and found some clothes in Helga's wardrobe.

They found Highmother at the marina by the harbor where the Sisterhood's doctors were caring for the wounded (of which there were thankfully few). Many of the people wandering about the area were former slaves who had just been liberated from the Citadel and who were now bewildered about their hardwon freedom.

Before Emily could introduce them to Highmother, someone shouted at them.

"Look! It's Darlene!"

"And the One Who Escaped!"

"They've returned!"

After many hugs, they made their way to Highmother. "How happy I am to see you both well!" she exclaimed. "And to find the two people who have meant so much to our cause in each other's arms is beyond all expectation!"

"Thanks, Highmother," said Eve, "but I'm still getting used to all of this attention. You said you wanted to talk to me?"

"About many things! But most of all, I wanted to see with my own eyes that you're well, and to tell you that I'm making room for you in the new governing council! You

do

intend to stay with us, don't you?"

Eve looked uncertainly at Adam. "I don't know," she admitted. "Adam has his own life back on the mainland."

"But he must also serve on the council!"

"Me?" said Adam. "I thought men couldn't serve. It's a sisterhood, after all."

"Submissives must be represented if we are to avoid the abuses that brought us to this point. You understand that our tradition of domination and submission is our way of showing trust for each other. If submissiveness becomes a mandate instead of a choice, it loses all meaning.

"Therefore you, Adam, will be the new Executive Liason between dominants and submissives. Your task will be to ensure that our practices never go further than the role-playing for which they are intended."

Adam looked toward the many beautiful faces welcoming him. "I suppose we could find a comfortable place here to settle down."

"I have already assigned quarters for you. You and Darlene shall have Mistress Helga's old quarters."

"Helga's quarters?" gasped Eve, grabbing Adam's arm. "Her place is awesome!"

Beyond the crowd, Adam noticed an electric golf cart pulling a trailer laden with suitcases and boxes. When it parked in front of a pier, Monica stepped out of it along with her male driver and two hunky male assistants. She immediately started directing her helpers to load her personal items from the trailer onto a luxury yacht that was moored at the end of the pier for her use.

Highmother followed Adam's gaze and noted, "It's my understanding that you made certain promises to Monica in exchange for her help. Is this so?"

"Given how much we needed her, it seemed necessary," said Adam.

"I understand," said Highmother. "I invited Monica to stay, of course, but she has suffered much here on the island and is eager to leave it. I've promised that I will honor the terms you've set. We'll give her a new place to live where we can provide for her needs and where she'll have all the privacy she desires. And while I don't quite approve, the prisoner Helga will be remanded into her custody. You believe Monica is ready for this responsibility?"

"Nothing she can't handle," said Adam.

Most of Monica's personal items had by now been unloaded from the cart and sat on the pier waiting to be delivered onto her boat. Among them, he saw a familiar-looking wooden box that wobbled vigorously from within.

To Adam, it seemed fitting that this would be his final memory of Mistress Helga.

Eve tugged insistently on Adam's arm. "Come on, Adam! Don't you want to see our new house? Especially the bedroom?"

Adam was not about to disagree, but Highmother interrupted. "First, I

must

have a word with Adam—privately. It will only take a minute, I promise."

"You go on ahead, Eve" said Adam. "I'll catch up to you at the house.

Our

house."

"Don't be long," warned Eve imperiously. "I'll be waiting upstairs."

She eagerly ran off, procuring the use of the electric cart before anyone else could claim it.

Highmother asked, "Does she know about your condition? Your medical condition?"

"I haven't told her," said Adam. "We've been kinda busy."

"I wanted you to know that there's a cure. We found it in Helga's laboratory. The doctor can administer the cure to you right away."

Adam thought of Eve waiting for him in their new home.

"How about tomorrow?" said Adam. "I'll get back to you. Eve and I have some catching up to do."

Highmother could not hide her smile.

Agent Emily ran breathlessly through the crowd toward them. "Highmother," she said. "I've been taking inventory of the prisoners, and one of them's missing. It's Mistress Kathy!"

"She's escaped?" asked Highmother in alarm.

"We don't think she's escaped," explained Emily. "It's just that there've been so many prisoners, we seem to have

misplaced

her. Neither of you know where she is, do you?"

Adam looked past the two of them and saw Monica loading her things. Among her personal items, Adam noticed a

second

wobbling wooden box that he hadn't noticed before. Monica's hunky friends were now wheeling it onto her yacht along with the first box.

"Haven't seen her," said Adam. "Good luck with that."

Monica saw Adam and waved goodbye. He waved back, knowing she would be just fine.

He couldn't find a ride back to the Citadel, so he started to walk. When he thought of his beautiful mistress waiting for him in their new bedroom, he started to run.

He ran through the length of the Citadel, past the stables, over the bridge that crossed his new koi pond, through his new front door, and into the foyer to his new living room—where he startled the housekeeper again.

"Oh! Hello, Master Adam!" she gasped. "You surprised me!"

"Just call me Adam. My mistress wouldn't approve of you calling me master. Are you still working?"

"Mistress Darlene said I could change out of my uniform so it wouldn't get dirty." In her tank top and denim cutoffs, the housekeeper's legs looked as long as he had remembered.

She set down the putty knife and the spackel she had been holding. "I was hoping to have the bullet holes repaired before you got home, but I'm afraid there's more of them than I thought." She looked embarrassed. "I got carried away this morning."

"I think you've earned the day off."

She smiled. "Thanks, I'll finish this and call it a day."

Adam climbed the stairs, walked down the hall, and quietly entered the bedroom.

He gazed around the suite, from the hot tub to the bed, remembering how it had filled him with dread a few months ago. Now the sight of it enticed him.

"I'm here, mistress," he announced, although he didn't know where she was. "How may I please you?"

"You already have," she answered from the balcony. Framed by French doors, with the ocean behind her and wearing only a smile, she stood behind translucent curtains in anticipation of his arrival.

He pulled back the curtains and stepped onto the balcony to be with her.

"You've earned a special reward," she continued. "Tonight there will be no commands, no ropes, and no chains. Just a beautiful sunset, a warm bed, and you, and me."

She put her arms around him.

"And maybe the housekeeper," Eve teased. "She's kind of cute."

They laughed.

And they kissed.

By the time the sun set, they were no longer watching it. There would be another one tomorrow.

And there would be many tomorrows.

*

This may seem like the end, but it is not.

In a faraway land only a few people know, there is a place called Oasis. It was once the home to a sisterhood that studied unusual arts of love, but now they no longer need it.

Now it is the home of a most unusual mistress whose name was once Monica.

The Oasis provides the mistress with everything she needs. There is a beautiful house where she lives. There is a stream which provides fresh mountain water. There is an orchard and a garden where she gathers food. For her other needs, there is a courier from a nearby village who—according to a prior arrangement with the Marstonite Sisterhood—makes periodic visits and delivers whatever items the mistress requires for her comfort.

The mistress is not shy, nor is she ever lonely. Sometimes she has a handsome visitor from the outside world, sometimes more than one at a time—but only by invitation. Above all, the Oasis provides the mistress with privacy.

In addition to the beautiful house, the mountain stream, the orchard, the garden, and all the privacy she desires, she also has two ponies who hate her very much.

Kathy and Helga have not always been ponies. They became that way only after many, many years of being very, very bad.

They arrived in a pair of boxes after their mistress had given them something that had made them sleep for a very long time.

They had awoken, stiff and sore, wearing the pony suits which they wear to this day. The suits include boots and mittens which resemble hooves and which prevent them from using their fingers and toes to perform mischief. They include bits for their mouths which are removed only for feeding, and only if they have been good, which isn't very often. And they include tight-fitting bodysuits with only two openings (which can never be closed)—one for their heads, and the other between their legs for necessary functions and services.

The ponies hate their suits almost as much as they hate their mistress. For the first few days, they complained loudly, asking, "When can we take these damn costumes off?"

"Why, never," their mistress had replied, "because you're ponies now. And while you were sleeping, I had your zippers sewn shut."

Even more than they hate their suits and their mistress, the ponies hate each other. They blame and curse each other for their current misfortune whenever their bits are removed—which isn't really very often. The rest of the time they spend hitting and kicking each other with their hooves whenever they're together—which is always.

Every day their mistress hooks the ponies to a sulky and goes for a ride exploring every corner of the Oasis (which the ponies also hate). Sometimes their mistress will tell one pony that she has to be lashed extra hard because she's gotten fatter than the other one. It doesn't have to be true. Their mistress knows how important it is to keep a pony motivated.

And the ponies never ask why their lives have come to this. They know. They always know.

But sometimes one will cry, "Mistress Monica, have mercy! We didn't realize we had been so cruel!"

And their mistress will whisper in reply, "I've told you not to call me that. I am not Mistress Monica anymore. From now on, I am Mistress Payback. And what you've heard about me is true.

"I . . . am . . . a . . . bi i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i itch!"

And so ends the strange story of Mistress Kathy and her Wicked Protégé.