by Van © 2018
		Chapter 6

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 back.

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 them."

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 one.

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 for sure.

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 obedience.

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.

(1) "Why didn't I think of that?" she muttered, and...

(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).

Eventually, 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.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE.  Guest starring as Skye Prentiss: Poppy Montgomery.]

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 had come.

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 for it?

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, tape-gagged face.

"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 response.

"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 padlocked ball-gag.

"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 her.

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 distance.

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?

Aqua-International Training Academy
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 pissed-off Super-Agent!

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 had happened.

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 instruments.

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 hot nerds.

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 to them.

"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 supervising."

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 interesting."

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."

EPILOGUE

---

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...

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Chapter 5

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