Panties and Bras



A Tale of Ung


Chapter 23





Vocno Cloistered in Defdefa Convent




"Doubtless you’ll need time to come to a decision in regard to Vocno’s destiny. Will you at least select a date for you to rule on his fate, King Ajinblambia?" asked Udi, with perceptible self-consciousness as she pronounced the royal vocative. I was brushing Ajinblambia’s red linen dress and straightening its folds as unobtrusively as possible so as barely to disturb negotiations between the royal ladies. I wanted to retie the scarf around her neck, and I noticed she had raised her foot and turned her ankle, reminding me to check her shoes. She touched a lacquered fingernail to her carmine lips for just a second, and I knew this meant I was to remain absolutely silent till she gave me leave to speak. I’d been schooled in her language.

"No, Queen Udi, I won’t need time to come to a decision. I’ve decided and can rule at once."

"Well, then, yes, please rule," said Udi.

"Vocno shall be cloistered in Defdefa Convent as a nun in perpetuity," decreed King Ajinblambia.

"Why in perpetuity?" asked Udi, "Why don’t you just commit him for a year instead, that is, till the expiry of your trial kingship? If then you shall have chosen to resign your royal station, Vocno will be able to return to his old place. But if you shall have chosen to remain upon the throne, then at that time, you’ll be able to prescribe perpetual confinement, if it please you."

"If I do that, I’ll seem to make the perpetuity of his confinement contingent on my choice to rule the realm perennially. This will be unnecessarily offensive to the convent, as if we’d cloistered a detainee not a nun. On the other hand, if I shall quit the throne, a quite unlikely possibility, I’ll still be able to vacate the life-commitment, with the permission of the abbess, if it please me, or merely leave it in effect, if not."

I’d noticed one of Ajinblambia’s black stockings had a run, and so I’d found an extra stocking in her purse and was trying to get the spare one on her leg. I didn’t understand what she was saying. Her diction was too difficult. Besides I was engrossed in my activities.

"Do you understand, dear Vocno?" Udi asked, "King Ajinblambia is shutting you up in the nunnery for life. If she descends the throne next year, though, she may release you after all, with Olezconia’s approval."

"Vocno," Ajinblambia inquired, "are the habits that you have in your apartment exactly like the habits that the nuns wear at Defdefa Convent?"

"No," I wouldn’t be allowed more than a ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

"Where can we get a Defdefan habit right away?"

"I still have my old habit and the canonical accessories, you know, the bonds, the bit, the mask," said Udi.

"Go get them," Ajinblambia commanded. She loved her newfound power. The raging of the sea and the thunder of the storm filled up her bosom. You could hear the echoes in her voice, see their might in every little movement of her hands.

Udi left her office by a side door that led into a little dressing room I’d never been inside of. Now and then, if Udi had to change at midday, she’d just slip into this dressing room, in which she kept a secondary little choice of dresses for a number of occasions. Her master wardrobe she maintained in her apartment, where she had 1000 dresses. Momentarily, she came back out, tugging two large russet leather shoulder bags with zippers made of brass. The bags she heaped upon the richly colored carpet on the floor before the boudoir chair where Ajinblambia was sitting as I continued helping her just freshen up a bit.

Unzipping the first bag, the queen withdrew a number of neatly pressed and accurately folded garments wrapped and sealed in transparent vinyl. "These constitute the habit," Udi said, "panties and brassiere, camisole and petticoats, garters, stockings, guimpe and barbe, gown and wimple, sash and mantle, gloves and veil, and here’s a pair of shoes."

"What’s in the room you brought them from?"

"Oh, that’s a little dressing room. I have some clothes in there. Also, there’s some furniture—a chair, a table and a dresser. The walls are mirrored."

"May Vocno change his clothes in there?"

"Of course," said Udi.

Ajinblambia commanded me, "Vocno, enter Udi’s dressing room and don the habit she has brought. Henceforth, you are to wear a habit at all times. Your failure to do so will constitute a criminal offense, punishable condignly, do you understand?"

I nodded silently, and gathering the packaged garments, I betook myself into the dressing room. Behind me I heard Ajinblambia command, "Discard your present clothes."

I opened all the packages with care. The wrappings I just crumpled up and dropped into a basket of rattan in a closet in the dressing room, but the garments I laid out upon a maple table there, itself a work of art, with cameos inset along the edges and scrollwork on the legs like the clocking of a stocking. I doffed my clothes and dropped them in a chute intended for the thing, so I was nude and barefoot. I took the lingerie accompanying the habit—brassiere and panties, camisole and petticoats—and one by one I held them to my face. I breathed—indeed imbibed—their freshness and immaculacy commingled with the irresistibility of Udi’s fragrance lingering within them, clinging to their folds. I was intoxicated. I’d attained nirvana. This was seventh heaven. Then I ran my fingers through their glossy silken layers, and they were smooth and cool. I felt longing and desire in the marrow of my bones, in every cell within my body. I had the taste of manna in my mouth. What had been forbidden me—to put on Udi’s habit—now had been enjoined upon me by decree. One by one, I donned the intimate apparel, slipping on the panties and harnessing myself in the brassiere, almost sighing with delight. I stole glances in the mirror and I was pleased. I drew on the milky stockings and gartered them in place, tingling at the pressure on my thighs. Then I held up my arms, surrendering unto the camisole, which slid down along them and fell about my upper body. Each petticoat I lifted to my riff, where with a single finger I released the waistband so it snapped about my waist. I paused a minute to admire my image in the mirror, but instinctive chastity and modesty impelled me to do on the great black gown. The skirt of a Defdefan gown is fashioned of a single seamless circle of exquisite jet-black cashmere with a seven-foot diameter and a 22-foot selvedge. It hangs in a cascade of folds, like a swaying palisade of black, but the bodice front is shirred and fitted, snug and tidy. Then I tied in place the guimpe, the barbe, the coif, hung the black tulle facial veil on my face, tossed the great black mantle round my shoulders and the wimple round my head. I looped the sash about my waist, and stepped into the low-heeled black leather shoes. Each shoe was fitted with a band that went around the ankle, so I stooped to pinch the big brass snaps that joined them shut. I put on the black kid gloves. I paused to take a good long look at my reflection, and I loved it. I tried to seem more placid than my sense of keen excitement would have had me, so that Ajinblambia and Udi wouldn’t change my punishment, if that is what it was, to something less delightful. Thus prepared in mind, I finally returned to where the ladies were awaiting me.

"Beautiful, dear Vocno, truly beautiful," said Udi.

"Yes, very beautiful," King Ajinblambia agreed.

"Vocno," Udi then instructed, "you must always kneel in silence when the king is present, is that clear?"

I nodded and I knelt in front of Ajinblambia, but feeling that an even showier obeisance than was formally required would find approval, I kissed her stockinged feet. Then I knelt erect again, observing silence piously.

"Dear Udi, I’ve a question," inquired Ajinblambia, "you mentioned what you called ‘canonical accessories’, such as the ‘bonds’, the ‘bit’, the ‘mask’. I didn’t understand. I’m not familiar with their practices. Please explain to me."

"Oh, these are the accessories the rules of the nunnery require. I’ll explain. As you may or may not know, Defdefa Convent does observe a very strict and stringent regimen—for novices, obedience and silence, austerity, frugality and work, and also mortification of the flesh. Every morning in the atrium of the convent, throughout the hour of visitation, each novice is bound hand and foot as she kneels on a cushion. An elder sister does the binding. Of course, when visitors have reached the atrium, the doors are locked behind them, not to be unlocked until the novices have been unbound and taken back to quarters, so the binding isn’t just a measure for security. On the contrary, the binding of the novices is a pious exercise whose aim is to inculcate in their minds such cloistral virtues as chastity, timidity, docility and modesty. Of course, this is an ancient practice, a relic of forgotten centuries, and may appear draconian in our indulgent modern world. Anyway, the implements used in this daily ritual are called a ‘bit’, a ‘mask’ and ‘bonds’. Two pillows are required too. The implements and pillows are in the other leather bag."

"This ancient pious practice you’ve described sounds very salutary, very likely to produce results, provided that the novices aren’t injured bodily, of course."

"Oh no," assured Queen Udi, "they aren’t corporally harmed, beyond some minor bruises that go away eventually."

"Has Vocno ever been so bound?"

"Oh yes, of course. Every morning during his confinement in the convent, an elder nun would bind him hand and foot, isn’t that correct, dear Vocno?"

I nodded to confirm it.

King Ajinblambia, now smiling merrily, asked Udi, "Dearest Udi, do you know how to execute the binding? I’d like to see it demonstrated." I didn’t know if she had scientific or religious interest, or rather, looked upon it as a gleeful little game, but did it make a difference? It looked as if they’d bind me then and there, for I knew Udi’s answer in advance.

"Of course I know," said Udi unto Ajinblambia, "Furthermore, their enchiridion is in the bag." Then turning till she faced me, she instructed, "Vocno, rise for just a moment," and I rose.

The queen unzipped the other leather bag, the bag containing cushions and canonical accessories. She withdrew a little round red pillow slightly larger than a cake and set it on the costly carpet on the floor, ten feet before her mauve chaise longue, ostensibly selecting its position randomly.

"Vocno, kneel here, before the mauve chaise longue," commanded Udi.

I doffed my mantle and handed it to Udi, then stepped over and knelt upon the pillow. Udi put the mantle on a table and moved the leather shoulder bag beside me where I’d knelt. Then she pulled my petticoats and the selvedge of my skirt up to my knees and took off my leather shoes, with my stockinged feet and calves exposed. Withdrawing from the bag a one-foot-round cylindrical red bolster two feet long, and soft but firm, she raised my ankles, first my right one, then my left one, and pushed the bolster underneath them, letting them down gently till they rested side by side upon it. From the bag, Queen Udi took five neckscarves of sheer black silk crepe, about five feet in length but narrow, that could easily be twisted into little ropes, keeping one, and dropping four upon the table. She looped the first scarf round my ankles twice or thrice, then pulling it as tight as she could pull, she tied the ends together in a knot, so that my feet were bound inseparably together. She took the second neckscarf off the table, encircling me about the midriff twice withal, and knotting it securely in the back, so that my waist was tightly cinched. Then pulling all my skirts and petticoats back down nearly to my ankles, with the first scarf still accessible however, she took the third scarf from the table and threaded it between my ankles through the loop formed by the first scarf, instructing me at this time to sit back upon my heels all the way. When I’d obeyed, she pulled the third scarf through the second—the one about my waist—connecting thus my ankles to my waist. She looped it once again and joined the ends in a knot she tied in such a way that there was tension in the scarf. Now my derriere was anchored to my ankles, and my thighs compressed against my calves, nor could I rise or shift a millimeter. I was utterly immobile from my waistline down, especially as I grew numb from being cinched.

"Vocno, put your arms behind your back," instructed Udi, as she pulled up the trumpet sleeves hanging like inverted morning glories from the armholes of my habit, so that my arms were bare up to my shoulders. With the fourth scarf, royal Udi bound my elbows fast together in a knot. The trailing end she brought up to tie around my neck, snugly but not tight, lest by chance the loop about my elbows be worked loose or fall and come undone. Finally she took the fifth scarf from the table and tied my wrists together as tight as tight can be, but she left a three-foot tail of the neckscarf hanging down. She brought this tail through the silken bonds about my ankles, then had me arch my back so she could pull the scarf till maximally tense. I was rigid as a wooden doll from chin to sole, and my torso and my limbs had gone to sleep, so I could ill distinguish hands and legs and body, but only felt a tension and a weight from which my head projected like a buoy. Udi let my sleeves fall where they would.

"Excellent!" said Ajinblambia, "I had no idea that Defdefa Convent worked such rigors. I can certainly appreciate however that…"

"But wait, King Ajinblambia, I haven’t finished."

"You mean there’s more?"

"Oh yes, indeed. Shall I continue?"

"By all means, yes. Please carry on."

Queen Udi next removed my wimple and my veil and set them on the table with my mantle. My sash had fallen on the floor and she picked this up too. In the russet leather bag, she found a tangerine-sized ball of white in a little sealed envelope of cellophane. The ball, which Udi called a ‘bit’, consisted of a putty made of gum and coated with an adhesive with the flavor and the scent of peppermint. She removed the cellophane and disposed of it, leaving and returning in a second.

"Vocno, open wide your mouth."

I opened it as wide as I could do and Udi introduced the bit, working it into my buccal cavity as far as possible by pressing with the heel of her hand and kneading with her fingers.

"Vocno, now bite down," she told me.

I bit down and sank my teeth into the putty till the upper molars registered upon the lower. The putty had just the right amount of coating to prevent my mouth from opening no matter how I strained or struggled.

Carefully Queen Udi now removed the white parts of my headdress: barbe and guimpe and coif. She took the ‘mask’ she’d mentioned from the bag. More than a mask, it seemed to be a helmet or straitjacket for the head, designed to cover the entire skull and neck down to the collarbone, front and back and all around. The outer layer consisted of elasticized black denim; the inner layer was tufted, padded, jet-black satin. It had an opening in the back extending from the sinciput down to the bottom at the nape. On either side, there was a row of little eyelets, obviously to receive a lace, like the closure of a corset. Invisible inside the neck in little sheathlike pockets, a dozen metal stays were sewn in place. The upper ends of all the stays connected to one hinged ring below the chin. The lower ends connected to another at the collar. The stays were somewhat longer than my neck. Udi put the mask upon my head and started lacing it in place just like a boot. As she laced up the mask, the rings snapped closed around my neck, and all the stays, which had been bowed, began to straighten out and separate the rings, which stretched my neck just tight enough to hold my head completely still, and I was frozen solid. The face of the mask had only four small holes, a quarter inch or so, one beneath each nostril, another one before each eye.

The queen replaced the wimple, veil, barbe and all. Originally the veil and the wimple had combined to drape my head entirely, except they’d left a little window, two inches high, four inches wide, around my eyes. Now the window had been covered, as if the queen had drawn a curtain, and my face had gone all black. I could see a very little through the tiny peepholes in the mask. Udi then replaced my mantle, draping it about my neck, and put my shoes back on my feet, pressing closed the big brass snaps that held the straps around my ankles just where the silken neckscarf gripped them ineluctably. She straightened all my clothing and covered all the scarves.

I could only bat my eyes and whimper. Otherwise, I had no voluntary muscles.

"There you have the nunnish exercise of zhnanbad," said Udi to the king. ‘Zhnanbad’ literally means ‘nun-bound’, referring solely to the practice of Defdefa Convent.

"Very interesting indeed," said Ajinblambia, "I know that it’s old-fashioned, positively medieval even, but I like it. Vocno, remember how I told you one day I’d make you safe, secure and sound? I told you I’d remind you. Your Defdefan days will always find you safe, secure and sound. The hour of the settling of accounts is hard upon us."

Ajinblambia then stood and came and sat upon the mauve chaise longue, where I could see her absolutely perfectly. Udi joined her in a minute. My narrow range of vision was a circle that surrounded them—as if they’d been a tondo—but eclipsed all other things around them.

"Why don’t we order some champagne to celebrate the launching and enthronement?" the queen proposed to her colleague in the royalty, ordering by wristphone from a palace buttery champagne to be delivered to her office, even before the king had spoken to agree. In minutes, a robot waitress—a wheeled mini-refrigerator—had appeared, with probably a dozen bottles in its hold. Udi took a bottle out, uncorked it with a corkscrew carefully, poured two glassfuls, and the ladies drank, without a lot of further speechifying. Instead, they chatted easily.

At first, the queen quizzed Ajinblambia about the aerospace facility, the Photons, the expedition to Dlivandor, Shornbanc Station and the mills. It was a shining moment for King Ajinblambia, the zenith of her day. Smiling and laughing, opening and drinking bottle after bottle of champagne, the ladies talked and talked. They had quite forgotten me, as if I’d been a nun of porcelain, another ornament to grace the royal office.

Eventually, they got to complimenting one another on the color of their hair, the flawlessness of their complexions and the curves and prominences of their figures. Ever and anon, King Ajinblambia kissed Udi on the mouth or traced the edge of her décolletage, running a flexed finger, like a little hook, along the seam, its tip inside against her flesh. The front of Udi’s gown had 50 little pearl buttons from the bosom to the hem, each inside a tiny loop. I could see the upper surfaces of Udi’s breasts and the cleavage that was as its charming best just where the highest button rose and fell in cadence with her breath, straining with the saffron velvet of her gown.

It seemed that Ajinblambia had been debating with herself on whether to unbutton the first button then and there, and finally she did it. I half-expected Udi to feign anger, but she cast down her eyes demurely, blushing slightly. A nervous moment followed, and when Udi once again looked up, Ajinblambia kissed her on the mouth. Udi threw her arms around her neck and kissed her in an ecstasy of passion. At length she dropped her hands on Ajinblambia’s legs above the knees, where her dress of scarlet linen had crept up halfway to her thighs. Then Ajinblambia unbuttoned one more button, and the two wee corners of the saffron gown began to droop. I could see the full round curves of the saffron satin cups of Udi’s bra behind those folded corners.

I would not have had the nerve for such erotic overtures if I’d been sitting in the royal office with the queen. Udi felt her office was a place of business. So when Ajinblambia made bold to do it and did it with éclat, melting Udi’s rules with her heat, and scoring a success, I was amazed and envious. I’d found yet another sphere of action where Ajinblambia excelled me ten times over. The air was filled with oestrus. I wondered what she had I didn’t have.

But just as someone who is weaker than a baby may nonetheless admire an athlete who can hurl a javelin 100 yards, I found it deep within my spirit to identify with Ajinblambia in her amatory venture. That is to say, I found myself enjoying her successes with the queen. I was her silent cheerleader. I was proud of her. I was making love vicariously with Ajinblambia’s arms and mouth. She was the heroine of the screen in my tiny mental cinema.

Ajinblambia unbuttoned all the buttons one by one and untied Udi’s crinolines, so I could see her saffron panties with the perfect little bulge just below the waistband. This belonged to Ajinblambia. She and I had staged a contest; she had won. I had no legitimate complaints. Ajinblambia fingered Udi’s panties quite a while, removed her gown entirely, lifted her, clad but in panties and brassiere, in her sleek arms and bore her towards her bedroom ready to be laid in bed, tipsy and aroused. They’d forgotten all about me.

"Look, we’ve forgotten Vocno," cried Udi in the morning when the ladies first had risen. She and Ajinblambia undid my bonds and mask, prising open with a silver spoon my puttied mouth. I ached all over. My mouth, my neck, my waist, my elbows, wrists and ankles all were sore. I could hardly stand. Finally I managed to eat breakfast and to shower in the dressing room, but they wouldn’t let me leave the royal office unaccompanied, so when I’d finished, I just plopped upon the burnt-sienna sofa of crushed velvet. In an Ungi hour of rubbing my extremities and joints, I felt good again. Ordinarily the nuns are tied 2.5 earth-hours every day; I’d been tied four times that long, and must have set a record.

Later on I heard Queen Udi ask, "Well, dear Ajinblambia, how shall we begin to implement your royal order? When and how shall Vocno be escorted to the convent?"

"Let’s videophone the abbess of the convent—you said her name was Sister Olezconia?—and plan with her the whole procedure."

"She may be reluctant. She knows that Rogizlenia, the novice who escaped, was in reality a man named Vocno. The enormity of the irregularity sparked off a real scandal at the convent. True, Vocno made amends after his fashion later by endowing the Defdefan Order with a gift of half the money he received for rescuing Tandoling from Afroslab and Vrinxni in the Tripolis. Still she may not welcome with affectionate embraces the returning malefactor-malefactress."

"We’ll reward her handsomely," our new longhaired monarch promised, "but do I rule Ung or don’t I? That’s the question."

"Of course you rule, but Defdefa Convent has always been accorded a measure of autonomy. You certainly don’t want to trample on tradition."

"Very well, you’re right. We’ll try diplomacy, philanthropy and tact."

Udi took a scrollphone from the pocket of her skirt of taffeta of royal blue she’d put on that morning with a blouse of white with spikes of dark blue lupine embroidered on the bosom. She pressed a button and a wand untelescoped and then unrolled to form a two-by-three foot screen that weighed about an ounce. She handed Ajinblambia the screen and she reposed it in her lap resting on its lower edge and tilted back so she could see it. Udi took another scrollphone from a table, but happening to glance in my direction and musing maybe I’d attempt escape, she put the phone back down a minute and stepped to where she’d left the leather bags. From one of them she took a little case no bigger than a prayer-book I knew contained a silver chain sewn in a little velvet sleeve. This was a hobble that I understood would be around my ankles in a minute. I raised them and she shackled them together. Then she took the second scrollphone and expanded it to size, as she sat near Ajinblambia in her own chair.

"Olezconia!" said Queen Udi to thin air, as if calling on an angel or a ghost, but seconds later the unforgettable seraphic countenance of the abbess of Defdefa Convent had appeared on both the screens.

Olezconia was taller and much fairer than the average Ungi woman. Her complexion was as cream and her lips were holy roses. Her fragrance was like lavender. Her dulcet voice was silver chimes and golden bells. Her breath was redolent of mint. She was ever blithe and placid in the presence of non-nuns, the embodiment of mildness and meekness.

Inside the convent, nonetheless, she was strict and adamant, despotic and self-willed. She was almost as tall as Ajinblambia, and strong and energetic. Hidden in her habit was the figure of an athlete. All the nuns were terrified of her, as had I been in my cloistral days. She was commandress more than she was elder sister. But you’d never have suspected it beholding her sweet visage in its stately drapery of black and white.

"Olezconia, this Ajinblambia before you now is king of Ung, while I continue as Ung’s queen. Doubtless you recall the Rogizlenia affair. We both apologize abjectly. In spite of all, however, Ajinblambia desires to commit, with your permission, Sister Rogizlenia once again to your convent in Dwesfesco. Knowing the disruptive nature of her previous confinement and escape, which she regrets, repents and rues so earnestly, she has in mind to recompense your troubles with a generous endowment enabling you to undertake the improvement and expansion of the cenoby."

"That’s very saintly, quite magnanimous. I’m certain we’ll be able to come to one accord," came the sterling syllables from out the rosy mouth, "but you know we have some rules that need to be obeyed, and Sister Rogizlenia is a living violation of those rules, if you perceive the meaning my modesty forbids my uttering expressly. How might we deal with this paradox and franchise me in conscience to assent to this renewed commitment?"

"You have my permission to adopt whatever measures may be needed to safeguard the reputation and well-being of the convent."

"Complete authority in everything germane?"

"Complete authority. If you say it, so do I."

"Shall I then come to Mecnita?"

"Yes, please fly Air Fwascren’s midday flight to Jezgroid Airport in Mecnita. Ask for Thrulxmarj there. He’ll chauffeur you to Eldor Palace. You’ll stay with us this evening and tomorrow you’ll return to Fwascren with Sister Rogizlenia in hand. We’ll discuss the details tonight at supper, if it please your eminence."

"Yes, it will, but please arrange to have her habited and bound so we’ll be able to sacre her renunning right away."

"If this is what you wish."

The royal ladies said goodbye and then retracted both their scrollphones. It was beginning to appear that my return to suburban Fwascren’s famous cloister had been written on the wall. I was confused at the allusions and the lofty diction of the abbess and the king, but I was going to Defdefa Convent it was clear. At least I’d have some respite till late or middle afternoon, because the abbess then would be negotiating the 6000 intercity miles. At 7 Ungi, Udi bound and masked me once again in porcellaneous rigidity, and a little while thereafter, Stlembi, a girl usher at Eldor Palace, put herself upon the threshold of the door to Udi’s office, announcing the arrival of Sister Olezconia.

With a not unpleasant swishing of her petticoats and skirts, the lovely-visaged, towering abbess entered to the unison of greetings from the royal women. Olezconia was much taller than Queen Udi, more like Ajinblambia, and all the folds of her great habit made her a most imposing figure. I caught my breath instinctively and shuddered just a bit remembering her strictitude and magisterial demeanor, but to Ajinblambia and Udi, she was the incarnation of gentility and grace.

The three great ladies sat about a table made of oak, and Udi ordered refreshments to be brought—pekoe, oolong and darjeeling tea—along with a selection of fine pastries—ladyfingers, crumpets, wafers, palmleaves and éclairs. Later they would sup more heartily.

Their conversation was melodious and merry, innocuous and sweet. They talked about the weather, the launching of the Photon, the aerospace facility, Ajinblambia’s new kingship, the history, the mission and the finances of the Defdefan Order, the meaning of the nunnish clothes they wore. They went on a goodly while, their pearly smiles so elegant.

Finally, however, the conversation turned to me, and Sister Olezconia rose, approached and blessed me, formally accepting me as a novice-postulant of the sisterhood on condition of my getting medically cleared. Presumably there’d be a checkup by and by I figured. She explained this as she stood before me where I knelt in silence in my bonds and bit and mask.

Queen Udi then called Jorbing and Omushca, porters at the palace, who brought a black sedan on gilded poles. They raised me carefully into the black sedan, went out the door into the regal corridor, carrying me jauntily to the bank of stainless elevators, with Sister Olezconia, but neither Ajinblambia nor Udi, following and supervising. On another floor we found room 9601, a beautifully appointed but often vacant guest room. Jorbing and Omushca bore me in, set down the black sedan, lifted me onto the floor, arranging the two cushions as before, and carried the sedan back out, so Sister Olezconia and I were left alone.

Olezconia untied the five black silk crepe neckscarves grasping my extremities, and since I’d not been bound for long, I sprang onto my feet readily enough despite the flowing skirt and mantle of my habit. Next she took my mask off and helped me get the bit out. Five minutes later, I was back to normal and felt a keen desire to see the royal ladies once again. So far I’d just accepted Ajinblambia’s decree indifferently, resignedly, according to the fatalism of my nature. Now, of a sudden, second thoughts assailed me. Perhaps I should go back in order to remonstrate and expostulate, object, protest, or beg and plead if need be. I noticed Jorbing and Omushca had not locked the door of guest room 9601 on their departure. When Olezconia turned away from me for just a minute, I bolted for the door and reached the corridor. I ran past the bank of elevators, pressing all the buttons, if haply one was there already and would open right away, but all the doors stayed closed, so I ran to a door providing access to a stair well, only to discover it was locked. I turned upon a heel and ran back to all the elevators, where one at last was opening. I got in and pressed a button, but the door was leisurely in closing, and the abbess managed to slip in, depressing Open. Her hand was in my wimple in a second, gripping me about the neck, almost as a pussy with her kitten. Then she marched me back to 9601. She tossed me down upon the bed and pressed my arms against the bedding, her fingers interlaced with mine. I couldn’t free myself because she exercised a lot of strength to hold me still.

"If you misbehave again, you’ll go all the way to Fwascren bound and gagged."

"I just wanted to see Ajinblambia and Udi one more time."

"No, there’ll be no more dialogue."

"Please, just for a few minutes."

"No. Anyway, they’ve left to go to the Egshirvazi District and won’t be back till after midnight. Tomorrow you and I will go to Forgsha Station. If you act up, I’ll paddle you right on the sidewalk in broad daylight. Do you understand?" is the perfect venue for panties and bras.
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**********A TALE OF UNG**********

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