|by Van © 2018
The very next
morning (mid-morning, actually) Toni put Maddy, Charlotte,
Amondi, and Anne in leather armbinders, body-harnesses, and
ankle-cuffs with hobbling straps, then added head-harnesses with
ball-and-panel-gags. The harness-gags were redundant and
unnecessary as, the damsels' shock-collars remained in place and
active and their wearers were already conditioned and resigned
to voluntary silence. Apparently, Sadista found the added
gags to be aesthetically pleasing.
Next, Toni added clover-style nipple-clamps and formed another
nipple-clamp-coffle. Maddy was in the lead with a leash
clipped to the chain connecting her clamps, a light chain
connected the back of Maddy's collar to Charlotte's
nipple-clamp-chain, Charlotte's collar to Amondi's clamps, and
finally, Amondi's collar to Anne's clamps.
Toni clucked her tongue—"Tut, tut, tut!"—then led the damsels on
a brisk hike.
Several strenuous, sweaty minutes later they arrived at a broad
beach on the far side of the island. The coffle and its
leader left the shade of the jungle and trudged out onto the
sun-baked sand. Sadista was waiting, standing next to an
elongated wooden crate with an open lid. Once they
arrived, the damsels could see that inside the crate was a
Damsel Transport Module (DTM)—probably the same module in which
Silke had arrived via parachute—and once again, Silke was inside
the module. They could clearly see her nude, seriously
restrained body through the acrylic cover. Her face was
partially obscured by a full-face gas-mask and a mouth-plugging
ball-gag, but they could tell it was her. Her fit, sexy
body and white hair were dead giveaways. And speaking of
dead, Silke was dead to the world. They could see her
shapely breasts rise and fall as she breathed, but by all
appearances Silke was unconscious.
"Greetings, ladies," Sadista said with a cheerful smile.
"It's way too soon, I know, but Agent Silke will be leaving us
today, so I'm giving you a chance to say goodbye." She
indicated the DTM and crate with a grand gesture. "The
module is in full life support mode, and the reprogramming
subsystem is engaged." She leaned close to the acrylic
shield. "As you can see, her eyeballs are moving under her
eyelids. 'Rapid eye movement.' Something we all do
while dreaming. A cocktail of mind-altering
drugs—including Forgentamine™, Amnesiol™, and Memorestine-B™—are
coursing through her veins, as is a nutrient and saline solution
to sustain her while the drugs and the subliminal
audio-conditioning droning in her ears wipe out recent,
inconvenient memories." She smiled and nodded at Toni.
The captives watched as Toni closed the crate's lid and used
woodscrews and a battery-powered driver to seal it shut.
The driver whirred... and whirred... and whirred until the last
screw was in place and the deed was done. Toni then led
the tit-clamp-coffle back to the jungle and under the shade of
the canopy, and tethered Maddy's leash to a convenient
branch. Now, of course, the damsels weren't going
anywhere, even if Toni wasn't standing right there.
"Wait here," Toni said, then rejoined her mistress under the
sun, on the sand, and next to the crate full of Silke. The
damsels still weren't going anywhere.
Maddy and the others huddled together in the tropical humidity,
grateful for the shade, and watched Sadista and Toni shield
their eyes with their right hands as they gazed into the
distance. Minutes passed. Now and then Toni used a
hand-radio or satellite phone, but the distance was far too
great for the nude, bound, gagged, and nipple-coffled damsels at
the edge of the jungle to hear what she was saying.
Finally, a dot appeared on the horizon... grew larger... and
they heard the distant drone of engines. It was a
tiltrotor aircraft, the same model that had delivered
Silke. It transitioned into hover mode... the engines
roared... and it settled to the beach some distance from Sadista
and Toni. Sadista's sarong fluttered in panic but managed
to keep hugging her hips. Even the damsels at the treeline
had to squint to avoid blowing sand. The leaves of the
overhead canopy fluttered and shook.
The aircraft's now horizontal rotors slowly idled as the rear
ramp lowered. A female crew member emerged, using a
handheld controller to guide a wheeled cargo-sled towards
Sadista, Toni, and the crate. Thanks to a set of six
balloon tires, the sled negotiated the sand with a little
difficulty. Next, with Toni's assistance, she attached a
pair of cables to cleats in the sides of Silke's crate, a winch
whirred, and the crate slowly slid up a ramp and onto the sled's
Sadista and Toni exchanged a few words with the crew member,
waved at the pilots still in the cockpit, then turned and
strolled towards the jungle and the waiting damsels.
Meanwhile, the crew member and the sled (now with Silke, the
module, and the crate on board) returned to the aircraft...
rolled up the ramp... and the ramp rose.
Just as Sadista and Toni arrived at the jungle and entered the
shade, the tiltrotor's engines revved, roared, and the aircraft
lifted into the air. It spun 180-degrees... and flew back
the way it had come.
"And that's that," Sadista sighed as the aircraft faded into the
distance. She turned to Toni and pointed up the
beach. "I'm going to walk home the long way, she
announced, "and swim around the Andromeda Rocks when I get to
Toni smiled. "Which is much easier than swimming
around the Andromeda Rocks before you get to them, but
thanks for letting me know where to start looking for the body
if you're late for supper."
Sadista's response was a wry smile. "Don't make me resort
to staff discipline," she purred as she removed and handed her
sarong to Toni.
"Never, Mistress," Toni responded, still smiling. "I'll be
taking this lot back via the Jungle Loop."
Maddy and her fellow damsels heaved commiserating sighs at this
news. That was their longest and least favorite daily
exercise run, and they'd already hiked the length of the island.
"Toodles," Sadista waved, wiggling her fingers as she turned and
strolled away in the direction she'd indicated.
"Yeah, 'toodles,'" Toni chuckled, then knelt in the sandy jungle
floor and unclipped the damsel's leather hobbling straps, one by
The damsels watched with forlorn expressions. They knew
(even Anne) that kicking Toni at this point might be marginally
possible, but the end result would not be worth the fleeting
satisfaction. They continued watching as Toni stood and
used the straps to extend the chains connecting each damsels'
clover-clamp chains to the back of their immediate coffle-mate's
collar. The final strap was clipped to the front of
Maddy's collar, extending her leash. The comfortable
leather wrist loop at the other end of the leash remained
clutched in Toni's right hand.
Finally, Toni looped the waistband of Sadista's feather-light
sarong around Anne's waist, and the ginger heaved a humiliated
sigh. Once they started running, the damn thing would
flutter behind her behind like a flag hoisted at a ship's stern.
"Okay, ladies," Toni said with a grin. "Off we go."
She turned and jogged for the trail and the linked damsels had
no choice but to follow. Boobs bounced, hair fluttered,
and the sarong flapped as they ran. Soon, the trail
intersected the island's sandy, unimproved, perimeter road, Toni
turned onto the one-lane "highway", and picked up the pace.
The next day,
Toni outfitted Maddy with a set of what she called
"slave-chains." The award winning actress, director, and
producer now shuffled around the island naked and locked in
stainless steel, interconnected manacles, shackles, and collar.
The fetters and collar were thick-walled, wide, closely fit the
relevant anatomy, and were smoothly polished, inside and out,
including all edges. A vertical chain ran from the ring in
the front of her collar to the central links of the chains
connecting her wrist and ankle chains. Her fingers and
hands were now in front of her body, as opposed to the usual
behind-the-back when they were bound, cuffed, or encased in
leather, and were considerably more useful, but she could only
touch her face while stooping, kneeling, or sitting. Also,
she wasn't going to be winning any footraces with Toni, that was
As an added bonus, Maddy's new collar was "smart." That
was how Toni characterized the hateful thing, anyway.
Maddy would have gone with "diabolical" or "evil." From
the outside it looked like the rest of her chains, but its
interior was lined with blunt copper contacts and it was yet
another example of a shock-collar. As with the old
collars, with a tap of her finger on her tablet or one of the
many touch screens scattered about the island, Sadista could use
the steel choker as a voluntary gag, setting it to shock Maddy
if she so much as giggled, moaned, or tried to speak; but now it
could also be used to control her movements. The collar
had a built-in GPS tracking function, and if Maddy strayed too
far from or too close to a specified location or locations, she
received progressively less gentle reminders of the virtues of
The geographic feature was a new level of control that allowed
Maddy to be what Sadista mockingly referred to as a "free range
damsel." Unless her presence was required to witness the
punishment/entertainment of one of her fellow damsels or to
perform some service for her hostess/captor, Maddy was allowed
and sometimes ordered to roam the island. Exploring the
jungle became one of her possible daily exercise
assignments. She would be required to shuffle to one or
more specified points on the island and back, with the collar
providing "encouraging" mini-shocks if she dawdled in one place
or strayed too far from the programmed course-of-the-day.
Other possible assignments included vacuuming carpets, sweeping
balconies, or other menial chores.
The same went for Charlotte and Amondi, meaning they were also
now nude, locked in slave-chains, and required to be of service
(which included servicing Sadsista). Toni's handling
duties were thus considerably lessened, in that now she could
simply program the collars and hand out assignments. She
was required to physically handle one or more of her mistress'
guests only if Sadista was in one of her moods and wanted to see
some sort of creative bondage predicament.
As for Anne... If anyone had bothered to ask, she would
have admitted that she was now resigned to her situation.
She even tried (with limited success) to keep the glaring and
scowling to a minimum. Unfortunately, she wasn't
asked. Sadista delighted in continuing to punish Anne for
what she called her "feisty redhead attitude." In the
course of their day, it was not uncommon for Maddy, Charlotte,
or Amondi to come across Anne bound with rope in some
spectacular and inescapable matter, strapped into some
outrageous and severely restrictive leather costume, and/or the
prisoner of some hideous but highly creative torture engine and
being teased and/or tantalized to distraction.
Anne's collar remained in place, and when such encounters
occurred, the island's control system was set to punish the
approaching free range damsel (and Anne) with escalating
severity if they came within ten feet of the ginger and her
predicament du jour. They could look, but not touch.
Damsel gossiping was still forbidden. Maddy and the others
had been unable to share more than a handful of words since
their captures; however, alone in the bedroom or a
study/library, Sadista and Maddy had long discussions of the
proposed movie project. They had yet to agree on a
screenwriter, but Sadista had a list of candidates. All
were female, in their twenties or thirties, and were attractive
and "available" (meaning vulnerable to kidnapping).
Over a nice lunch on one of the estate's many semi-camouflaged
balconies and early in the process of narrowing the prospects
for recruiting a screenwriter, Maddy remarked that it might have
made more sense to have a script in hand before kidnapping
the cast. Sadista's response was twofold.
didn't I think of that?" she muttered, and...
a screenwriter was agreed upon. That is, Sadista saw
through her producer's insistence that none of the proposed
candidates were suitable, especially Maddy's old
friend, Skye Prentiss.
(2) She instructed Toni to have Maddy visit the toe-nibbling
cleaner-fish in the sea cave for the remainder of the
afternoon, then bind her to the straight chair in her bedroom
so she could watch Sadista have her pussy licked by Anne until
midnight (with the long-suffering ginger bound in a hideous
frog-box-hogtie with rope and cord, of course).
[AUTHOR'S NOTE. Guest starring as
Skye Prentiss: Poppy
Three days later a seaplane circled the island once, landed on
the water, and taxied towards the same beach where Maddy had
arrived on Isla Pluma. Sadista, Toni, and Maddy were
awaiting. Sadista was in her usual mauve bikini and sarong
and Toni in her usual gold bikini, but Maddy's slave-chain
ensemble had been enhanced. Toni had added a steel
chastity belt and a steel brank that caged Maddy's head, covered
her lower face, and anchored a large and annoying rubber,
bite-protector-plug in her mouth.
Rather than taxi up onto the sand, the seaplane stopped several
yards off the beach. The side door opened, there was a
brief pause, then a woman with longish red hair was shoved out
the door and into the drink. She was wearing an olive
green business suit (skirt and jacket) and an ivory
blouse. Her head bobbed back to the surface, she turned in
the water to face the seaplane, and stared daggers at the crew
member standing in the open door. Maddy recognized the
copilot from her arrival at Isla Pluma. He smiled, tossed
a pair of stylish, open-toed, high-heel sandals in the redhead's
general direction, then waved and closed the door.
The redhead turned and side-kicked towards the beach.
Meanwhile, the seaplane's engines revved, it taxied away, and
eventually climbed back into the sky and flew back the way it
As the redhead approached the beach, Maddy's worst fears were
realized. The newcomer was Skye Prentiss!
"Mrrrm!" Maddy whined through the brank, then turned to Sadista
with a glowering stare.
"Oh, if looks could kill," Sadista chuckled. "Don't get
your steel knickers in a twist, Maddy darling. Somebody
has to earn an original screenplay Oscar for our masterpiece."
By this time the seaplane was a diminishing dot on the horizon
and Skye had reached the shallows. She planted her feet,
waded through the surf, and stomped across the sand to the
waiting group on the sands. What else could she do, swim
It was now apparent to Maddy that her friend's hands weren't
behind her back by choice. Skye's wrists were almost
certainly bound in some manner. Also, her mouth and lower
face were obscured by a wide, smooth strip of Elastoplast
tape. Needless to say, she was soaked to the skin and her
red hair was a tangled mass of dripping, auburn curls, several
of which were plastered across her glaring, freckled,
"Welcome to Isla Pluma," Sadista said to Skye, then gestured to
Toni. "This is Toni, and you already know Ms. Rynsburger."
Skye's eyes widened when she realized the naked, chained captive
between the brunette (with mauve highlights) and the muscular
blonde was her friend Maddy. "Mrrmpfh!" was her natural
"Toni," Sadista purred, "why don't you help Ms. Prentiss out of
those wet things before she catches a cold?"
Toni pounced. There was no other way to describe what
happened. Maddy glowered and watched as Toni executed a
judo take-down (which wasn't much of a challenge with her
target's wrists bound behind her back) and dumped Skye on the
sand. She then knelt atop the squirming, struggling,
mewling redhead and proceeded to strip the freckled, pale, fit,
and very shapely new arrival to the skin. This took a
while and was an athletic exercise for both participants, but
obviously not much of a challenge for Toni.
In the process, Maddy learned that Skye's wrist bonds had been a
pair of milky white plasti-cuffs, the kind the police use during
riots to make mass arrests. Toni replaced them with a pair
of wide, smooth steel cuffs connected to a belly-chain, then
added a pair of similar ankle-cuffs with an eighteen-inch
hobble-chain. She also replaced Skye's tape-gag with a
"Ow!" Skye complained when the tape was ripped off. "Let
me go you motherfu—krrrmf!"
Naked, wet, and her skin now more-or-less plastered with beach
sand, Skye watched in fury as Toni stood and stuffed her jacket,
skirt, blouse, bra, and panties into a plastic trash bag.
The grinning blonde then knelt and firmly but gently removed
Skye's gold necklace, ear-posts, a pair of rings from her
fingers, a third ring from one of her toes, and a post from her
bellybutton, then placed them all in a small plastic zip-lock
bag. Without further ado, she strolled up the beach and
towards the jungle, taking Skye's "wet things" and jewelry with
Kneeling on the beach, naked, bound, gagged, wet, and covered in
sand, Skye glowered at Toni's dwindling form, then shifted her
hostile gaze to Sadista. Skye was quite the looker, just
as Maddy remembered. Her friend had big boobs (bigger than
Maddy's, anyway), a flat tummy, narrow waist, and toned
muscles. She had significant tan lines, in that her
breasts were milky white, as was her triangular bikini
area. Her pubic bush was reddish brown. Skye was no
Anne, but quite obviously she shared at least some of the
ginger's feisty attitude.
"Alright then, Ms. Prentiss," Sadista chuckled. "Toni and
I will be motoring back to my vacation home, and you're more
than welcome to follow. In fact, I insist. Maddy
knows the way and will be your guide." With that, she
turned and followed Toni towards the jungle... but paused
halfway to the treeline. "By the way, Maddy's wearing one
of my very clever collars that will shock the fool out
of her if she strays too far from the chosen path, and if she
shows up without you, I'll make very sure she's very
sorry." She focused on Maddy. "That's a promise,
darling." She then shifted her irritatingly jovial smile
back to Skye. "Of course, if you do decide you'd
rather spend the night naked, bound, gagged, and wandering my
jungle and don't care if your friend gets punished for it, I
suppose it's your decision. I can always wait 'til
morning, change into one of my chic, jungle-camouflaged,
tropical hunting outfits, and stalk you with my net gun, lasso,
cattle prod, and whip. That would be fun."
Sadista spun on her bare feet, once again, and Maddy and Skye
watched her disappear into the jungle. Seconds passed... a
quiet engine purred to life... then the sound faded into the
The naked captives faced each other and heaved a mutual
sigh. Understandably, Skye had a lot of questions,
none of which she was to ask or Maddy to answer. They
turned and shuffled up the beach and towards the jungle,
following in Toni and Sadista's footprints. What choice
did they have?
Somewhere in the
Picturesque, Rolling Hills of Scenic "Undisclosed Location"
It was now six months after
the termination of Silke's mission to rescue Charlotte James,
Amondi Obiero, and Anne Knoll. It turned out the whole
thing had been a vast misunderstanding. The actresses
hadn't been kidnapped at all, but were in a secluded location
and engaged in the preproduction training for an upcoming film
project for Maddy Rynsburger. The still developing plot
had involved kidnapping and bondage, and a casual observer of a
part of the one of their "improvisation exercises" had taken it
for the real thing. Oops! Silke never did find out
how Aqua-International in general and Silke Arches in particular
got roped into the debacle (so to speak).
Actually, "termination" of the mission was a bit of a polite
fiction. Describing Silke's extraction as a "rescue" might
be more appropriate. The team of agents arrived at "Bravo
Seven," one of Aqua-International's many safe houses, and found
Agent Arches waiting. Oh by the way, she was wearing a
custom-made body-harness of heavy-duty, interlinked,
cable-tie-style nylon plastic bands that bound her naked body
from shoulders to toes and about 20 to 30 places in between.
The horizontal, vertical, and diagonal bands were all
vripped tight enough to dimple her flesh and the ends trimmed
short. She'd been gagged with a two-inch ball of
silicon-rubber, a strip of milky-white medical tape, with a
skintight Gwen-hood of white latex that covered her head but
left her upper face exposed from nose to forehead.
The extraction team had been polite and professional. That
is, they didn't collapse into giggling fits and make cutting
remarks as they cut Silke free of her bonds. This was
unsurprising. Super-Agent Arches' current assignment might
not have ended as planned, and while the team might be
fully-trained Aqua-International Agents and able to take care of
themselves, but they knew better than to further arouse the ire
of Silke Arches under such humiliating circumstances. It
was a no-brainer. One does not mock a seriously
And the worst part had been that Silke had absolutely no
idea what had happened to her. Her last clear memory
of the mission had been processing the briefing materials,
deciding how to proceed, and then—nothing. And when she
got back to Aqua-International HQ, the Psychology and Medical
Departments had been of absolutely zero help.
They tried every non-intrusive technique known to medical
science, but without success. There was unidentifiable
drug residue in her system, but nothing to suggest exactly what
Silke's mind had been wiped. Aqua-International knew the
required drug and conditioning protocols and had used various
forms themselves on several occasions, but all of that would be
vigorously denied if the leadership was asked by the relevant
oversight authorities (if Aqua-International had any
real oversight authorities), but that didn't help solve the
Mystery of the Missing Mission.
It was frustrating, humiliating, and had professional
ramifications for Agent Arches. There was an ongoing
request from Aqua-International's Training Academy that
Super-Agent Silke Arches take a tour as one of the faculty, but
Silke had always refused. Those who can, do (meaning
infiltrate evildoers' lairs, tickle malefactor's tootsies for
information, and ultimately bring them to justice), and those
who can't, teach. But Silke was told she needed a
break. In fact, Silke was ordered to take the teaching
slot for at least a year. Silke refused (again).
Silke was ordered to do as she was told.
And so, Agent Silke was now Agent-Professor Silke.
There was a bright side. Thanks to her record and
reputation (last mission notwithstanding), Silke was given her
pick of the available teaching slots. She selected...
RESISTANCE TO INTERROGATION 101. It was actually a
three-month block in the curriculum, rather than a single
course. There was lecturing, but "laboratory exercises"
took up most of the students' time.
At the moment (and as usual) her class consisted of a dozen
female Cadets, all between 18 and 22.
All were of different nationalities, with every hair color, eye
color, and skin tone represented.
All were superb physical specimens in tiptop condition, and were
gifted gymnasts, athletes, martial artists, and dancers.
All were superb scholars and each already had a Bachelor's
Degree and several hours of graduate-level instruction.
All were fluent in at least three languages and had a working
knowledge of at least three more.
All could give expert recitals on a variety of musical
All were stunning beauties, each in their own way, which would
allow them to pose as cheerleaders, beauty pageant contestants,
or Disney Channel® sitcom actresses on future assignments, as
well as sexy librarians, sexy nurses, sexy scientists, sexy
lawyers, or sexy reporters. With quirky glasses and the
right clothes, they'd even be able to convincingly impersonate
All considered themselves ready for anything Agent-Professor
Silke Arches could dish out.
All were wrong.
All were naked, bound, and gagged.
Specifically, Silke's students occupied twelve identical
"Interrogation Frames," stainless steel, motorized devices with
a variety of changeable restraints that could assume a variety
of positions. At the moment, the twelve frames (and the
students) were in "Gynecological Examination Mode," with the
nervous cadets reclined on their backs with their feet up, legs
splayed, knees bent, arms raised, and a plethora of wide and
narrow black nylon webbing straps making very sure they
stayed that way. Their gags were hollow, silicon-rubber
spheres perforated by a dozen holes each and held in place by
yet another of the black nylon straps. The spherical plugs
allowed the students to mewl, whimper, giggle, and scream (sort
of), as well as drool (which they most certainly did).
STUDENT LABORATORY #7, the site of the exercise, was a large,
circular, brightly lit, subterranean concrete chamber with a
dome ceiling. It was climate controlled, of course, but at
the moment the thermostat was set at "waaay too high,"
(which is roughly midway between "too hot" and "dry
sauna." All twelve students glistened with sweat.
Finally, after a long and pointless wait (carefully calculated
by Silke to achieve maximum suspense), the thick, heavy steel
door on the north wall rumbled open, Silke entered, and the door
rumbled closed behind her.
"Alright, cadets," Silke announced, "listen up." She was
wearing one of her sexy, semi-revealing catsuit uniforms in
black with aqua piping, and her feet were bare (which goes
without saying). "You've each been given a unique code
phrase and set of coordinates for you to keep secret. I
promise you that eventually you will talk—after your
gags are removed, of course—but by all means, resist. In
fact, that's an order."
The nubile, helpless, sweaty students gazed at each other in
confusion. All the Interrogation Frames were arranged so
they could see what was happening to each other, by the way, and
the arrangement was no accident. But why the gags?
It was almost like the entire exercise was a flimsy excuse for
Agent-Professor Arches to do horrible but as yet unknown things
"Now, you may be wondering how I'm going to be able to
'instruct' all twelve of you at once," Silke purred. "The
answer is... I won't. I will be giving each of
you personal, individualized instruction, but mostly I'll be
Just then, the heavy steel door on the south wall rumbled
open... and a line of humanoid robots strode into the room!
There were twelve of them, all about four feet in height and
identical in every way the students could see, with the
exception of the QR code blocks on the backs of their
heads. The automatons moved with precise fluidity and
quite obviously were mature technology, not clumsy toys.
And speaking of toys, their design was arguably cute. But
given the circumstances, the students found the robots' somewhat
humorous design to be ominous, rather than reassuring. As
it turned out, they were right.
"Allow me to introduce my Teaching Assistants," Silke
announced. "Ladies, meet the TK-3500 robots. The
teaching staff calls them 'ticklebots,' for reasons that will
soon become abundantly clear."
The cadets squirmed in their bonds, nervously, as the robots
finished deploying. Each student now had her very own
teaching robot, positioned just in front of their splayed,
helpless, and bare feet.
"The ticklebots are all quite artifically intelligent, by which
I mean they have a lot of on-board memory and independent
processing capacity," Silke lectured. "But in addition,
they're all tied into the Academy's network and have access to
additional resources, including several expert systems.
Their manipulators are strong, dexterous, and sensitive, and
have retractable vibrating probes, tweezers, forceps, and
Wartenberg wheels. There's also a new attachment:
a pinwheel mini-flogger. The design was my idea,
by the way. I'm very proud of it."
Silke turned and strolled towards the north door. Half of
her students watched her apparent departure with worried,
horrified eyes. The other half continued staring at their
assigned robots, the ones standing between their splayed
feet and staring back at them with red, glowing eyes.
"I'll be taking a coffee break in the faculty lounge during the
initial warmup period," Silke announced as she neared the open
door. "When I come back, things will really get
As she crossed the threshold and the door began slowly closing,
Silke heard the now familiar mechanical noises associated with
the robots deploying various tools, which was soon followed by
gagged giggles, shrieks, and moans. Further auditory clues
of whatever was happening behind her back in the chamber (as if
Silke hadn't written the lesson plan and specified her robot
assistants' programming herself) was abruptly cutoff when the
steel portal closed with a thud.
"It's a dirty, rotten, thankless job," Silke muttered
under her breath as she glided down the passageway, "but I guess
somebody's gotta do it."
About eighteen months after
Silke Arches "accepted" her teaching position at the
Aqua-International Training Academy, a much anticipated movie
went into general release. It was produced and directed by
Maddy Rynsburger, written by Skye Prentiss, and starred Cate
Blanchett, Gal Gadot, Charlotte James, Amondi Obiero, and
newcomer Anne Knoll.
The usual marketing campaign happened, of course, with the
director and stars giving press junket and red carpet
interviews, appearing on talkshows, and with behind-the-scenes
and on-the-set-of footage being widely shared with the press and
posted to the internet—but it had hardly been necessary.
The film had already caused a stir on the festival circuit and
the word-of-mouth buzz was building to something of a
frenzy. Also, the title song, Let Me Go, sung by
Adelle Dazeem, was already a top music download on iTunes.
As for the critics, some called it Action/Adventure, some called
it Sensual Drama, and a tiny minority called it Erotic
Horror. A few even said it defied categorization and might
be the start of an entirely new genre.
The title of the movie was...