Summer School & After School: The Ponygirl Omnibus Edition (39 page)

      
“I’m
worried about Glenda,” Lucy said. “She was with the Hanging Ten and then, when
they cut us out, she disappeared with the others.”

      
“Shouldn’t
we search the cellars?” Brenda asked, looking at Groff for affirmation.

      
“That
could take a long time,” said Groff. “As much as I want to get them all out of
here, the better course, I think, is to get the cops in here and let them do a
full investigation.”

      
“But
they may be gone by then,” Lucy said.

      
“The
cellar I was in is populated,” said
Mickeal
. “I agree
with Groff. Let’s call the police and get a search team in here. Can you do
that,
Evie
?” he asked, looking at the Prague
detective.

      
“I’ll
phone them now,” said
Evie
, still wearing little more
than a smile.
     
Lucy and Brenda left
the dining room and went down the hall, searching for rope, cuffs and whatever
else they could find to restrain the guests. They returned quickly with a
canvas bag full of handcuffs and shackles. They quickly applied these to the
remaining live members of the dinner gang.

      
“There
may still be some guards around here,” Groff said, handing out the extra guns
from the collection
Mickeal
and
Evie
had acquired.

      
The
three remaining guards were bound hand to hand and then secured to one of the
many marble pillars in the room. Their dead associate and the two dead tuxedoed
guests were laid near the door along with the Belgian and covered with
tablecloths that blended in nicely with the white marble floor.

      
Fabian
had not moved since
Evie’s
pistol whipping. Groff
went over to him, pulled his head up by the hair and Fabian, suddenly very much
alive, hit her in the face with a dinner plate, then pulled
Mickeal’s
Makora
out of his waistband and slashed Groff in the
arm as she backed away, blood streaming from her face. Neither
Evie
nor
Mickeal
were able to get
a clear shot at Fabian as he rose and raced across the room, headed for the
exit,
Makora
clutched in front of him. As he reached
the doorway, he turned, as if to give a parting comment, or perhaps to wave,
and tripped over the four cloth-covered corpses. He fell sideways and landed
hard, giving a low groan at impact. Then he was silent and again motionless. He
lay there in the heap of dead bodies while Lucy and Brenda went to Groff and
began wrapping her arm with clean table napkins while
Mickeal
and
Bibi
cautiously approached Fabian, guns ready.
Evie
remained standing at the foot of the table, watching
her charges carefully.

      
Fabian
lay on his side, the
Makora’s
black handle sticking
out from his chest. The frothy blood trickling from his lips and the startled
look in his gray eyes told the story. He had stabbed himself in the heart. The
razor sharp, double-edged
Makora
blade was lodged
deep in his chest up to the hilt.

      
“Couldn’t
have happened to a nastier guy,”
Bibi
said. Checking
for a pulse and then throwing another tablecloth over Fabian’s still body. She
looked at
Mickeal
and then at Brenda and Lucy, who
were still working on a pale and shocked Jean Groff, sitting against one wall,
holding her arm up with one hand and holding a napkin with ice against her
broken nose.

      
“And
you, Jean Groff,”
Bibi
said with a smile. “What a
waste of perfectly good Rosenthal china. Your dining habits are appalling.”
Groff slowly grinned and then grimaced as the smile wrinkled her nose and hurt
more than the whack with the heavy china dinner plate.

Cleaning

      
The
short ending to this story is that everyone left Prague as quickly as the local
police allowed it. Accounting for four dead bodies in the dining room, the dead
man in the former windmill outside Amsterdam and a few more scattered
throughout the Greenhouse complex took almost as long as detailing the dozens
of crimes perpetrated by the deceased Fabian and his gang. The locals called in
reinforcements and this resulted in an invasion-like sweep of the Greenhouse
property by a heavily armed special team from the Czech State Police. This
operation took longer than expected because they kept finding hidden chambers
and stashes of cash and valuables, not to mention the captives that Fabian kept
locked away.

      
Among
the latter was Glenda, who had been separated from the Hanging Ten and placed
in isolation with four especially dedicated guards in a stone tower at the
western end of the property. The guards foolishly put up a fight when the army
of cops moved in. Three of the four were killed in the brief, but violent
firefight that sent local residents diving for cover as hundreds of shots
punctuated the cold winter air and bullets ricocheted throughout the compound.
Searching the tower room, they found Glenda inside a narrow stone chimney,
hands chained overhead and ankles closely shackled to weights hanging below
her. The rescuing police discovered her after searching the tower and finding
other young women in similar distress, but they were baffled by Glenda’s
situation and could not find a way to free her. Only her feet could be seen up
inside the chimney and the space was far too narrow for anyone to get up inside
with her. She was gagged and hooded, so could offer no help while they searched
the tower, seeking some method of lowering her down from inside the narrow
passage.

      
Fearing
for Glenda’s safety and not knowing how long she had been in the tower, the
SWAT Team considered using explosives to blast the chimney, but more rational
minds prevailed and they sought additional help from local fire fighters. While
they waited for the fire department to arrive,
Bibi
,
Mickeal
and
Evie
came back to the
tower and discussed the situation with the attending officials. One
recommendation by the SWAT Team commander to immediately begin dismantling the
chimney was discussed, but this posed hazards to Glenda and would take perhaps
two days. When they arrived, the firefighters discovered that the chimney was
capped long ago. They found no access on the top floor of the tower.

      
“I
have a better, faster idea,”
Bibi
said. “Let me chat
with your survivor.”

      
“Survivor?”
asked the captain in charge of the SWAT and search and rescue efforts.

      
“Yes.
The one guy you didn’t manage to kill in your assault,” said
Bibi
.

      
“It’s
not a guy,” said the Captain. “It’s a woman and she isn’t saying anything to
our interrogators.”

      
“I’ll
bet you a dinner at Cowboys she’ll tell me.”

      
“Okay,
but I need to get permission.”

      
“No
time,” said
Bibi
. “Is she still there, in the van?”

      
“Yes,”
the Captain said hesitantly. “In the police van at the front gate.”

      
“Great,
just radio them that
Evie
and I will be coming down
to talk with her and tell your men to take a break. We need about thirty
minutes alone with her.”

      
“Well,”
said the captain, frowning. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

      
“Consider
it interdepartmental cooperation,” said
Evie
, heading
out the door and down the stairs two at a time with
Bibi
following. At the base of the stairs, they held a quick conference,
Bibi
digging into her backpack and passing a few
foil-wrapped items to
Evie
.

      
“What’s
this?”
Evie
asked.

      
“I
grabbed a few items from Fabian’s buffet table before we left.” She quickly
outlined her plan to
Evie
.

      
Once
inside the windowless van,
Evie
set up a small
Gaz
butane stove she took from the catering table in the
dining hall. She put this on a nearby shelf while
Bibi
busied herself with some tools and other items she took out of her backpack.
They said nothing, but made sure that the prisoner heard the noise of them
setting up the stove and putting their tools nearby.
Bibi
sat on a bench opposite the surviving guard and placed several items on a metal
box next to the prisoner. The blindfolded woman, her hands cuffed behind her
and chained to the wall of the van, automatically shifted away, but said
nothing.

      
“You,”
Bibi
said harshly in German, “have about ten seconds
to preserve your sex. I want to know how to free the woman in the chimney. I
want this now or you will leave here and go to prison a sexless creature.”

      
The
woman jerked her head and quickly inhaled. This told
Bibi
and
Evie
that they were correct in trying German
first, even though in Prague, German was not a popular or frequently used
language.

      
Evie
lit the
Gaz
stove and the
sound and odor of the hot blue flame quickly filled the interior of the van.

      
Bibi
and
Evie
went to work. They
tore open the front of the woman’s shirt, cut away the fabric between her bra
cups and pulled her trousers and panties down around her ankles. The woman
shifted uncomfortably.
Bibi
applied the contents of
her package. The woman screamed. Outside, the waiting cops walked about
uneasily, secretly wishing they had the balls to conduct this sort of
interrogation.

      
In
less than a minute, the survivor of the firefight was babbling incoherently in
German and three other European languages a complete and detailed set of
instructions of how to free Glenda. It was simple, but the cops never would
have figured it out in time: Glenda was suspended inside the chimney by her
wrists, the rings on her nipples and a curved steel hook up her ass. Any
attempt to lower her without coordinating the lowering of the multiple chains
would have tragic consequences. The frantic woman in the police van blubbered
instructions faster than
Evie
could write them down,
but the key was a small panel hidden in the wall. It held switches controlling
four winch motors.

      
“Four?”
asked
Bibi
. “Wrists, tits, ass. What’s the fourth,
you bitch?”
Bibi
brought the red-hot iron close to
the woman’s crotch. The smell of singing pubic hair filled the van.

      
“Connected
to the top of her hood,” the sobbing woman whimpered, trying to pull away from
the heat.

      
The
SWAT Team got the radioed instructions, found the switches, lowered Glenda and
got her into an ambulance.
Bibi
, Lucy and
Evie
joined
Mickeal
and went to
the hospital to watch over their friend.

      
The
usual red tape kept all of the crew busy for a few more days, answering
questions about Fabian, filling out detailed reports, narrating videos for the
coming trials and making sure that everyone was back to their best health.
Nevertheless, in a few days, the rescuers and the former captives were all
given clearance to leave the Czech Republic and everyone took off in different
directions. Lucy and Brenda went home to see their parents. Groff had her
broken nose set and attended to and then she and
Bibi
fled the European winter and took a long vacation in Barbados.
Mickeal
and
Evie
went skiing in
Davos. Glenda, after promising to visit the von Holt girls in a few weeks, went
back to Monaco for a short visit with her family. Before she left, she met
again with
Evie
and
Bibi
in
a small coffee shop in Prague’s Old Town. As they sat around the table watching
the people come and go, Glenda posed a question.

      
“What
did you do to the survivor guard to get her to tell you how to release me?”

      
Bibi
looked at
Evie
, who nodded.
Until then, it had been their secret, but they saw no reason to withhold it
from Glenda whose life had been on the line.

      
“It
wasn’t very good police work,” said
Evie
, “but
Bibi
is very resourceful and I wasn’t sure until we
actually did it….” She hesitated, mostly for effect.

      
“And…?”
asked Glenda.

      
“And,”
said
Bibi
, smiling one of her killer smiles and
pausing to take a long sip of coffee. “We burned her.”

      
“What?”
yelled Glenda, loud enough so that people at nearby tables stared at her.

      
“We
burned her tits and her pussy,” repeated
Evie
quietly. “Or at least that’s what she thought we were doing.”

      
“Huh?”
asked Glenda, amazed at what she was hearing.

      
“We
were just giving back some of what Fabian and his gang did to us all that
time,” said
Bibi
, still smiling and taking a large
bite of an apple tart on her plate. “Besides, isn’t she the one who put that
hook up your ass?”

      
“Hell,”
said Glenda. “I have no idea who put what up there. They were all nuts and
fighting over who would get to fuck me and who would get to whip me. It went on
and on. I wasn’t keeping score.”

      
“Right,”
said
Bibi
. “We convinced her that we were going to
burn off her nipples and brand her pussy. With
Evie
on the little catering
Gaz
stove and a couple of red
hot tongs, it wasn’t hard.”

      
“Jesus,”
said Glenda. “I’m pretty hardcore, but I don’t think I could do that.”

      
“Even
if it meant saving my life?”
Bibi
asked.

      
“Well,
maybe,” Glenda conceded. “How badly did you fry her?”

      
“Not
at all, physically,” said
Evie
, anxious to get
through this subject. “I left the stove going and stood next to the woman with
a glowing, very hot iron in one hand and a nice little piece of beef steak
decorated with a few strands of my hair in the other. I made sure she could
feel the hot iron and moved it very close to her breasts, letting her feel the
heat. We said nothing, so it was all in her mind.”

      
“You’re
nuts,” said Glenda. “But ingenious as well.”

      
“Not
at all,” said
Bibi
, finishing her coffee. “The mind
does things, makes things seem real, if the senses tell it to do so. We simply
provided the sensory input. Her head did the rest.”

      
“But
if you didn’t touch her, why did she think she was being burned?” Glenda asked,
unconsciously rubbing her bandaged wrists where the chains had left cuts and
bruises.

      
“
Bibi
held a thin piece of ice in one hand and took a second
hot iron in the other,”
Evie
said. “Simultaneously,
she applied the ice to her nipple and brought the iron close to the tit. I put
the other iron to the steak and hair that I was holding. She felt the ice and
the heat from the iron, heard the sizzle of the burned steak and smelled
burning hair and flesh. In those circumstances, her mind told her that the
freezing ice was actually the hot iron. After all, cold is just the absence of
heat or visa versa. She opened up right away. We never touched her miserable
cunt.”

***

      
There
were other, more positive items for closure. The von Holt family rewarded the
rescuers royally and, of course, paid the promised bonuses. These considerable
sums, on top of additional rewards happily gifted to them by the families and
friends of more than twenty other captive women released from the cages and
cells in the dungeons and chambers below the Greenhouse added up to financial windfalls
for the rescuers. So, in the end, all’s well that ends well.

***

      
The
longer ending includes the dilemma the six former captives faced in dealing
with their apparently permanent rubber second skin. Indeed, they admitted that
it was a nice warm insulation against the harsh winter weather and under
clothing it was not as noticeable as it was when they were stripped, but the
real issue was that the
rubberization
had a constant
and sometimes embarrassingly stimulating effect. The very tightness and captivating
quality of the rubber skin at times seemed to bring on increased sexual desire
and, with the proper enhancements, drive the wearer to near orgasm.