“Her majesty is fully informed about the danger facing all of Matria, and we Zoraladas have ascertained in our dreams that you, Lady Danadeva, are in the center of events. The support of the empire is yours. The support of the whole order of Zoralad too. The High Mother of the order, has send me, her most trusted sister, to offer help. And I have brought with me Mother Majavuth, an experienced knightress of the order of dreams and death. She may aid you in your quest into the catacombes.”
Mother Brixeth, a darkhaired Zoraladpriestress in her thirties, made a gesture toward the second Zoralada, an extraordinary beautiful woman with open, waist long curly blond hair to her right, who wore black bodyarmor above her priestress outfit and a dangerous looking mace at her weaponbelt. Both womens faces were painted white, eyelids and lips a glossy black.
Dana nodded politely. She still felt uneasy around priestresses of death, grief and dreams. 
Majavuth, the knightress, was the first of her kind, she encountered. The ex maid knew about  the knights order of the Zoraladas, whose reputation was good, but they were not as feared and not as mighty as Kerkes deathknightresses. The order usually fought dark magas, necromants specifically. It was numerically much smaller than the Kerke order.
The blonde eyed the Zoralada warrior, while the second Mother continued her long and obviously prepared speech. With the masklike painted face, Majavuths expression was difficult to read, and her green eyes were guarded. Dana tried a smile, and the other blonde answered with a small nod.
Well, Zoraladas were not known for their humor or open ways.
Brixeth came to an end, and Dana thanked her elaborately, using everything Tashmal had taught her about noble language. Finally she said:
“We welcome Mother Majavuth for the coming mission. But I must decline your invitation to visit the Zoralad temple tonight. Unfortunately, I must preserve my mana powers, it would be unwise to spend them in studies with your dreamwanderers.”
The darkhaired Zoralada accepted this without further comment.
The ambassador witch took over the conversation with Mother Brixeth, and Dana turned to her friends, who had remained in the background. They were in the main hall of the embassy, it was early evening. Soon, meal would be served.
“Well spoken, booted maid”, Tashmal smiled and offered Dana a goblet with light wine.
Dana looked back at the Zoraladas and saw Majavuth approaching. Putting a smile on her lips, she said to the knightress, who was about Tashmals age:
“So you will accompany us tomorrow. Would you like to stay overnight? You can join me and my friends in our pleasures.”
“I have to thank you for this offer, Lady Danadeva. But I am engaged with a fellow priestress and we will marry soon. It would be improper to have lustful pleasures with other women now. At least that is the custom in my home region. My soon to be companion and I were raised in Schluradon in the east of the empire.”
“Oh, I understand full well. Congratulations on your marriage then.” Dana said and had to smile. In fact, in her home region Moravan the customs were very similar. 
The knightress had a soft, girlish voice which contrasted with her armor and the dangerous looking mace she carried. 
Marule took a step forward and offered from her cigarettes. Kigumos, the sticks of fantasy and creativity were not only favored by artists, but by dreamwanderers too, and Majavuth was trained in dreams too, as the friends assumed.
The beautiful young woman still didnt smile, but she nodded politely again and accepted the offered cigarette. She mouthed it with grace and received a light from the zeebanian bard.
Dana drank from her goblet and signaled with her fingers to Tashmal:
“She is very beautiful. And not as arrogant as the death knightresses.”
The Achaian signaled back:
“Have I to be jelaous?”
Dana giggled and shook her head. Majavuth had lit up and smoked gracefully. Surprisingly, a shy smile appeared on her lovely features. Our blonde had difficulties imagining her using this cruel mace at her belt. In a village, sharing the grief of those having lost their loved ones, she seemed to be much more fitting than on a battlefield fighting unholy zombies and skeletons.
Marule started a conversation with the knightress about Schluradonian songs and poems, and Majavuth revealed she was writing poems herself.  The bard was delighted.
The blonde giggled again and changed a look with her Tashmal. The knightress would have difficulties to escape Marule this evening, at least not before she told her at least one of her poems.
“Whats that, not yet imagined this beauty as a package?” It was Sirf again.
“Uhh, no, you are right. Somehow I prefer the bad girls, and I can hardly imagine her as evil.”
“Innocent looks can be an advantage for a sinister agenda.”
“Dont worry, tonight I will visit dreamworld with Trish. We will look after both our thief and these Zoraladas.”
“Be careful, the priestresses are among the best dreamwanderers you can find. They will have defenses around their bubbles, maybe even traps. The dreamworld can be quite dangerous, in case this young chick Trish hasnt told you.”
“Can you dreamwander, Sirf?”
“I have some experience in the matter, yes.”
“And it never occurred to you to teach me the odd thing?”
“Up to know it wasnt needed. But maybe you are right. I will come with you two tonight. We better not underestimate the order of Zoralad.”
“Do you really think they are our enemies too?”
“A gut feeling, Dana. This Brixeth is a bit too polite, and the blond angel a bit too lovely and shy.”
“You know what Tashmal says?  About Paranoia?”
“Tashmal is a child like you. I on the other hand, invented the concept, it is said.”
“Who says said?”
“People of my age.”
“Must be a small group.”
“Yes and no.”
“Ominous as always, my temporary con-fy-deth.”
“A privilege of the wise.”
“Sometimes I think you are talking with someone in your head, like Megan with her snake.”
It was Tashmal, who reached up and took Dana by an ear. The blonde returned to the here and now and smiled innocently down on her lover.
“Maybe I am mad. In that case we need a healing maga.”
“Dont think so. I think I know who talks with you.” Tashmal looked over to the tomcat sitting in its basket near the fireplace, yawning and stretching.
“Keep that a secret, will you, sugarmouth?”
“If you wish. Is he of any use?”
“At least he is entertaining sometimes. But not as entertaining as you.”
They kissed. Sirf grumbled something in the background of Danas mind. She decided to ignore him.
A loud gong was audible. The meal was about to be served.
Dana and Tashmal parted and strolled over to the adjacent hall, where the provision would be served. Niyi and Zusha were already there, sitting in a corner and playing Kerkor. Niyi too was a very good player, with completely different strategies and tactics than all others in the group. She had beaten even Rowenn.
“I think this Majavuth would be a good addition to our group.”
“Really Dana? I suspect you are thinking foremost with your lovetube here. I grant you that shes very beautiful, but apart from that?”
“So you are jealous after all.”
“I always am. Have killed  a dozen girls already who looked at your breasts.”
“And I didnt notice a thing. What did you do with the corpses?”
“Sold them to necromants. Wouldnt that be fitting for this Majavuth bitch?”
“You are a very bad girl, Tashmal.”
“You should know that by now.”


The ocean of events was calm as it always seemed to be. Danas and Trishs naked Avatars were standing on the soft sands, ready for the nights mission. Sirf was in attendance too, but no avatar of the tomcat was visible, he only present in the two girls minds.
“We must be very careful, the Zoraladas are potent adversaries in dream world.” Trish said.
“I will do it, dont worry”, Sirfs voice rolled like thunder through the young womens heads.
A bubble rose, it was jet black. Dana felt – something. Like black ink stirred up and washed away by a stream of clear water, the black started to stir about and partly clear. She felt Sirfs mighty grip on her mind, and together with Trish the blond felt herself sucked into the bubble.
Her vision cleared, and she saw beautiful, glossy black lips, draped around the blond filter of a cigarette. The cigarette shook slightly, as the lips were quivering. A soft moan was audible. The shadows around the vision cleared, and she could see it was Majavuths mouth, her face still a white painted mask, her curly blond mane falling freely around her exquisit features.
The picture was further enlarged. The Zoralad knightress was naked save for her gorgeous black thigh boots and long gloves, love honey was dripping out of her sweet shaved vagina.
The blonde priestress was standing, opposite her Brixeth, the other Zoralada, stood, naked save for boots and gloves like Majavuth, her lips adorned with a cigarette too. The sticks were Malegos, the brand of lust and pleasure, and blonde beautiful Majavuth seemed to react very strongly to them, obviously extremely hot already.
Brixeth and Majavuth were concentrated on a burning match in the brunettes gloved fingers, and were about to light up.
There was a sharp smacking sound, and someone screamed heavily into a squeaking gag.
More of the scene became visible. No other than Retre Zeivel, the thief, was the third woman in the room, she too only wearing boots and gloves, a beltlike leathern “lash” - a short kind of whip – in a gloved hand, and observing the fourth person in the room, wich was a large sleeping chamber.
This fourth person was a rondakian slave with broad heavy slave collar around her throat. The redskinned girl wore tan latexa stockings and gloves, a huge bright red ballgag, and was fastened with chains to a big wooden X standing in the room. She squirmed helplessly and mewed into her gag. Her long raven hair flew about, heavy with sweat.
Retre used the lash again, a vicious stroke over the captives buttom cheeks. The slave screamed again in her cruel gag. The brunettes thiefs lips curled to a smile.
Brixeth and Majavuth were now smoking, taking first greedy drags, their free hands tendering their own breasts and love nests. They had turned to Retre, watching her torturing the slave. 
The thief started to speak:
“So we are clear on that. The gold plus this rondakian slut, I think Zusha is her current name. I have some things in mind for her once she is mine.”
With that, she lashed her victim viciously, the leatherbelt leaving a broad red streak on the captives naked back. Majavuth moaned seeing this and took a deep drag from her Malego, lust and greed in her green eyes.
It was Brixeth who answered:
“This worthless slut shall be yours. We only want Danadeva. Only we Zoraladas knew how to use such a mighty talented dreamwanderer, and for us to repell the impending male invasion, we need to control this girl completely.
So, you and Majavuth will enter the catacombes with them, go to this place she must visit, and once she knows the seals positions and the group has left, you will guide them to the hall in the catacombes were I will wait with our weapon maids. We overpower them, take Danadeva while you take your redskinned slut, and be done with it.”
Retre nodded.
“What about the others of the group?”
It was Majavuth with her sweet girls voice who answered that one:
“They must vanish. We will sell them to a mambakian slavetrader. Imagine them in the deep jungle on a Gnuvala plantage, they full body rubberized, their hair shaved,permanently gagged, in their noses the secent of the aphrodisiakum, they aroused to the point of madness constantly, working under whips and lashs of the guards, strictly tied up at night, only to be relieved from their ordeal by death from exhaustion and despair.”
The blonde beauty smiled sweetly, her small pink tongue coming out and licking over her black lips.
“That sounds wonderful”, Retre laughed, coming over to the beds sideboard and taking a Malego cigarette herself, mouthing it. Majavuth observed her hotly while the brunette lit up.
The stick still between her lips, the thief mumbled:
“And they cant know what we plan in dreamworld?”
“No,” Brixeth answered confidently, “I have sealed all our bubbles myself. If they only try I will be alerted. Furthermore, two of our order monitor their activities constantly. There is no danger. The Danadeva girl may be very talented and strong, but she is not really trained, and the witch is no match for us.”
Sirf snorted at that in Danas mind. Dana was very angry and disappointed. These evil wenches! Treason and cruelty seemed to be all around her. They stayed for a while longer, but the important parts were over, the three women now only saw to their pleasure, which was Retre torturing the slave and Brixeth and Majavuth getting more hot by observing it.
Disgusted, Dana was glad Sirf left with them shortly later.
On the beach again, Dana said:
“You were right Sirf, they are evil as you suspected. When I think about what this sweet looking blonde cow wants to do with all my friends, and that Zusha might be in these thiefs hands and under her lash... “ she let the thought trail off.
Trish nodded and asked Sirf:
“What about the two observing us?”
The tomcats voice chuckled in the girls minds.
“Dont worry, I took care of them already in the day when we entered the city. They are seeing false bubbles I created, showing us all sleep innocently and unsuspecting now. There are a few tricks these children never heard about.”
“I am so glad the Spica sent you with us, Lord Sirf.” Trish thought respectfully.
“We better wake up now and inform the others. Must decide what to do too.” decided Dana.
“Well, blonde beauty, can you now imagine this Zoralada with the beautiful features as a struggling package?”
“Oh yes, and I am looking forward to seeing her thusly for real, the cruel little bitch.”
“Thats my heroine...” 


“Lets have a final smoke before we go down,” Dana said and offered her Laxago pack to Majavuth.
The beautiful zoralad knightress took a stick and put it delicately between her soft lips. Like her and Dana, all other girls mouthed sticks. Matches were lit, and the eleven young women indulged in the vice, the blue smoke rising into the clear winter air.
Dana and her friends, plus Retre the thief and Majavuth the Zoralad, were standing on the grounds of an old cemetary, near the entrance of a huge tomb. They would enter Weidfelds catacombs at this point.
The blonde ex maid observed the other blonde taking the first lustful drag and imagined her tightly gagged, her eyes bulging. This evil girl wanted to sell her friends into deathly slavery in the mambakian jungles and was obviously getting hot from the imagination. Well, they would see about that. The friends had come up with a plan how to deal with their new companions and Brixeth with her weapon maids. But first they had to reach the control station under the city.
Apart from their weapons and some provision, and the bondage materials they always took with them, the group was carrying torches and lanterns, whose light could be reinforced by magical means from Megan and Trish.
Marule finally carried Sirf in a basket, the lazy tomcat obviously not interested in running himself through the underworld.
The blonde noticed Retre talking with Zusha, who was free of her manacles and collar and armed with axe and dagger. Both Retre and Majavuth hadnt objected to that, and the brunette thief was amiably courting the Rondaka, making her compliments about her hair, eyes and lips. What a false snake. Zusha remained cool, but friendly. When the time came to deal with Retre and the Zoralad, it would be Zusha who would deal out the treatment to Retre, it had been decided.
Each of Danas friends had reacted in their own way to the news of the treason. Trish, the light blonde witch, who had observed Majavuth at first hand in the dream, came over to the two other blondes and asked the Zoralada innocently for a light.
“Sure, here, mylady,” Majavuth mumbled, the Laxago still firmly between her glossy black lips. The priestress observed Trish lighting up, dragging herself again on her filtered stick, obviously mildly aroused by the witchs sight with her cigarette. Or are you imagining her as helpless rubberslave in Mambaka? We will see who will end thusly, poisonous she-snake, Dana thought coldly, while practising the art of deception in friendly smiling at the curled blonde.
Megans knightress, the brunette shorthaired Rowenn, asked Retre:
“What do you think, how long will we need to our target?”
“Oh, about 3 to 4 hours, depending on happenings. We will avoid areas with... ah.. traffic, where possible. So, if we encounter noone to interfer with our quest, we should reach the Wer rats territory around the station in said 3 hours. But one must allow for other problems too, like broken down ceilings and holes in the ground across our path in a corridor.”
Tashmal was chatting with Megan and Zoet, about Lashayette and a good breakfast in her villa there. On hearing it, Majavuth showed a fine smile. Danas mood darkened. The slut was surely thinking that the girls would never get such a breakfast again in their lives. How she hated it to pretend to be the traitors companions, even if only for a few hours. 
The zeebannian bard, Sirfs basket firmly in her lap, was eying the artwork on the tombs outer wall, as always, interested in every kind of art. Niyi the mayutan assassin finally sucked on her cigarette and seemed at bit uneasy, standing a bit away from all others and the tomb.
Dana rose an eyebrow and headed over to the white booted Yellowskin. 
“Everything okay, Niyi? You seem disturbed.”
“I am sorry, Mistress. My faith honors the dead souls of those before us, but we fear them too. I dont like to visit a place where the dead live. But please, Mistress, dont worry for me, I know its necessary and most naturally I will accompany you.”
The blonde reached out to touch Niyi at the shoulder, but thought the better of it and just nodded. The Mayutan seemed to be very touchy with such gestures she had learned.
When all had finished their cigarettes, whose butts the always neat Marule collected in a leather bag she had for that purpose, the group entered the tomb, whose main door opened easily, already often used by Retre and others.
With torches and lanterns lit, they approached the center of the crypt, where, hidden under an old carpet, a staircase let down into the dark.
Retre, who now had a sword and a whip in attendance, went first, followed by Zusha and Rowenn with torches. One by one, the women entered the staircase, Zoet and Niyi, weapons drawn, last to cover their backs.
The stairs led down into a chamber with two exits, one straight ahead, the other to the left.
The air was dusty, Tashmal coughed and bitched a bit. The thief led them to the left, and they entered a narrow corridor, which they followed for several minutes, before entering a large hall. There, on benches hundreds of skeletons lay, the ground to their feet littered with bones and skulls too. Niyi whispered what seemed to be a prayer and several of the others didnt seem to like the sight too.
Dana was unaffected. Carefully finding her way through the bones, she approached Retre at the front of the group.
“Is the whole place full of skeletons, Lady Zeivel?”
“Most halls are, the old inhabitants of Weidfeld buried their dead here for centuries. Mother Majavuth can tell you probably more, as it was always their orders mission to bury the dead.”
Most naturally, the two she-snakes pretended to be unfamiliar with one another, Majavuth seemingly even disliking the thief, as she was a criminal, even if a sophisticated one.
They continued on their way, leaving the hall and entering one of several corridors at the far side.
The girls marched in silence, even the high heels of their boots made no sounds, as Retre knew a maga who had silenced all boots heels with a spell in the morning. Very useful for vain girls, Dana had thought amused. Such a spell would be useful in abductions too, to silence the victim. But it would not be nearly as fun as gagging them physically, the blonde thought, and the cigarette gag spell was much nicer too.
Her thoughts wandered, remembering different women she had encountered and who had all received the treatment sooner or later. She eyed Retre and Majavuth. Yes, gags would adorn their faces nicely. She was curious how the two would stand a packaging. But later, Dana, later, she told herself.
Without incident, they traversed several halls and moved through corridor after corridor. Two times they descended more stairs, going still deeper underground. They had to lit new torches. Once, they came to a corridor whose ceiling had completely broken down, so that Retre had to guide them along another route. The thief estimated it had cost them half an hour. 
There were rats and spiders here. While Tashmal had no problem with rats, the spiders got a strong reaction from her, her milkwhite skin becoming an ashen gray and she biting her delicate green painted lips. Dana stroked her lovers hair slightly to calm her. The Achaian shot her an angry glance at that and stiffened.
“What?” she hissed.
“Nothing, my cute whore, lets continue, shall we?”
Tashmal said nothing at that and kicked a tennis ball big spider into the darkness. It hit the next wall with a wet thud and the Achaian shuddered. The blonde hid a smile. How cute her Tashmal was at times. 
A short while later, Zusha put a gloved hand on Retres arm and whispered: 
“I hear sounds ahead.”
All stopped and listened. Suddenly, a whip cracked in the distance, followed by a muffled scream. Now Danas sharp ears could hear whimpering, the soft squeaking of latexa – some gagged gals were ahead.
She told the others in sign language about it. Tashmal signaled back:
“Really blonde, cant we go anywhere without getting into this situation? There is a spell of Bonda, daughtergoddess of bondage, on you.”
Dana shrugged. The main group remained behind, while Retre, Zusha and Dana scouted ahead. Quickly they reached another hall.
In it, she saw 5 strong women armed with swords, clubs and whips, guarding 14 helpless girls, all tied up strictly with ropes and their lower faces covered by tight white latexa gags. The captives knelt on the ground between the bones, they wore nightgowns, or latexa or silken lingerie or were even stark naked. All had fair skin, probably doranian civas (citizens) of Weidfeld, abducted last night in their bed rooms.
There was one more woman in the hall, a voluptous blonde with a long plait in a green dress and thigh high brown boots and long gloves of shiny leather. She was obviously the leader of the slave hunters, looking over their minions and her catch arrogantly and confident. The hilt of her sword was adorned with juwels.
Retre signaled to Dana:
“I know her, its Togade Mursel, a slave trader officially into jellrakian slaves from the southeast. It was always suspected she hunted fairskinns too to sell them down there. We can avoid this hall. Loosing time is better than a useless fight.”
Dana shook her head.
“No, we will rescue these poor girls. One can not claim to be on the good side and then ignore evil when its more convenient to do so.”
Retre kept her face impassive, but she probably thought Dana a fool.
“Why are they here? They seem to be waiting for someone.”
“They probably wait for the trader to make the deal. Cant meet in Lady Mursels house after all. Trading doranian citizens in Dorania is naturally a crime.”
Yes, that was obvious, why had she asked at all?
They retreated back into the darkness and quickly reached their friends.
All agreed that the girls had to be rescued, especially Majavuth, who gave a good impression of a concerned priestress of an aspect of light.
They killed all lights and moved to the hall stealthily. There, from another corridor, two more henchwomen with a 15th captive just emerged. The captive was a very beautiful young woman with waistlong, full light brown hair, naked save for thigh high brown shiny boots and brown shiny gloves. Like the others, she was tightly bound and gagged. Struggling on a cruel leash, she was conducted before the Lady Mursel, who laughed at her sight.
“Pretty young Laranee! As I saw you last week on the Kaiseras party in the palace for the first time, I knew my customer would want to have you. So young and beautiful and proud. You dont look so proud now.”
“MMPPH!”
“Your nipples are errect. Well, its pretty cold here. On the other hand...”
The blonde slave trader put a gloved hand around a breast of the young knightress and squeezed hard.
“UMMMPPH! MMMUMMMPPH!”
“So you are already slavehot. I thought so. What a wonderful pleasure slave you will make. Put her with the others.”
One of the henchwoman, a rather short, stocky brunette with the facescars of a Butrava, her hair about shoulderlength like Tashmals, raised her lash and struck the captive two times with it. The girl screamed in her squeaking gag and hurried over to the other packages, forced there onto her booted knees by the Butrave.
Just as Dana and her friends were ready to act, another group entered the hall, 5 women with tan skin and sharp noses in colorful leather dresses and boots, armed with sabres and whips. Four carried large sacks, the fifth played with her whip, whose grip bore blue jewels and arrogantly approached the blonde slave trader.
Her black hair was in a high tower above her head, some streaks fell down in curls on her brow and cheeks. She wore much gold, earrings, a necklace, armbands and fingerrings and even a heavy golden ring in the nose.
“Ah, my dear Lady Chadraskatta. Glad you made it. I have 15 customers for you. Excellent material.”
“Very fine, Lady Mursel. How wonderful we can still enlarge our businesses. Yes, I see this is fine slave meat. The last one there, in the high boots and gloves, she is wealthy? Proud? Arrogant?”
“Yes, a young knightress, full of pride and a sense of superiority.”
“I will train her myself. This will be a great pleasure.”
The Jellraka, Lady Chadraskatta, gestured to her four minions.
“Get them ready.”
The four tan skinned women opened their sacks and produced shaving material and latexa caps.
Lady Mursel produced cigarettes and offered the pack to her jellrakian colleague. Both mouthed sticks.
Dana and her friends had seen enough. On a sign from Dana, Megan used the cigarette spell, and like the two traders all henchwomen mouthed sticks. Only the Butrave, who had already lit up before, was unaffected. She stood in the background and smoked, playing with her lash. 
The alboran witch spoke the second part of the spell, and 12 cigarettes became magical gags. Eyes went wide, mmpphing sounds rose louder and heavier than those of the slave traders victims, and the affected women stumbled to their knees.
Weapons drawn, the friends entered the hall.
The ladies Mursel and Chadraskatta starred at them with bulging eyes.
Dana beamed:
“Hello, hello! Sorry to interrupt your show, but in case you dont know, you are involved in criminal activities. You dont mind if we package you for the authorities and free those poor maidens here?”
Heavy MMMPPHHING and bulging eyes commented her statement. The Butrava, the only woman not affected by the spell, as her cigarette was already burning, threw the stick away and dashed into a dark corridor at the far side of the hall.
Dana immediately set after her, jumping over two of the kneeling captives, Zusha right behind her. Tashmal shouted: “Be careful, my love!”
The blonde grinned and sprinted after the butravian minion. It was not easy to sprint on high heels, though she had practiced it. Zusha, whose heels were flat, soon passed her and was in front. The corridor was dimly lit by Zushas torch. Ahead, the Butrave turned around a corner. The ex maid suspected she would make a stand there, trying to ambush them. Zusha obviously thought likewise, as she came to a halt. After a quick exchange in sign language, Dana went first, sword and latexa club at the ready.
The Butrave was quick. Blades crossed behind the corner, and Dana had real difficulties blocking the first blow. They fought on for a few seconds, then Dana had the initiative and forced the opponent slowly back.
Zusha appeared, putting the torch down and grabbing some rope from her hip bag.
The henchwoman hissed a curse and tried to attack again, but Dana forced her back. Suddenly, a ropelasso fell on the Butrave, and Zusha pulled. The rope pressed the girls arms to her side and cut into her leather garment.
Quickly, Dana was at her side, disarmed her and put the edge of her blade at the Butraves throat.
“Do you surrender?”
The woman starred darkly at her, but nodded.
“Good. Kneel, put your hands behind your back.”
Quickly and expertly, Dana tied up the girl, then gagged her with a three part latexa gag.
“Ummpph!” the Butrave made and struggled in the tight bonds.
After leashing her, Dana and Zusha led their prisoner back to the hall.
As the two girls arrived with their female package, their friends were already busy. One by one, the captives were freed from ropes and gags, and the now free material was used to package a henchwoman.
Tashmal and Rowenn were tying up the now stripped Ladies Mursel and Chadraskatta. Freed of the gagging cigarettes, the two slave traders tried to argue with their captors.
The Jellraka cried:
“I am a citizen of the Majeshut Zamdaskior, I am not under your jurisdiction. Release me at once. This is an outrage. Ufff.. dont tie me this tight, you achaian brute! UFFF, OHH!”
“You think this is tight, mylady?”
Tashmal showed her cruel smile, looked down on her ropework on the tan body and arms of the woman, took a loose end and pulled. All ropes tightened considerably in a moment.
“OOOHH!” the Jellraka made. With darkening cheeks and bulging eyes the captive stared about.
“Ups!” made Tashmal and smiled. “Hot by the bondage? You seem not used to being packaged. A slave trader, and unfamiliar with the treatment herself? What an oversight. Well, we are not done yet. Open wide...”
“No, no gag, please, you cant... UMMMPPHH! MMMPPPHH! GMMMSCH!”
“So. Thats the packing. Now to the strap. It must be tight, you see?”
“MMPPPUMMPPH! NMMMSCH!”
“Yes, thats it. Finally the band, to seal the gag. Well, you look pretty, gagged, Jellrakian. The white gag sets off nicely to your tan skin. Any complaints?”
The gagged woman mmpphhed heavily, her eyes moist and bulging, her body and arms struggling helplessly in the numerous tight ropes. 
“You are quite hot already. Thats a good sign for a pleasure slave. Given your beauty, this will probably be your sentence at the imperial court. You should have stayed with buying doranian criminals as slaves, instead of innocent civas and even a knightress. You see, the Doranians are a bit touchy about their nobility.”
While speaking, Tashmal touched the package here and there, at breasts, belly and pussy, showing her fine smile.
The Lady Chadraskatta squirmed and screamed into her gag, already very hot.
Beside the pair, the Lady Mursel, now naked save for boots and gloves, had been bound and gagged by Rowenn. The now freed young knightress, wrapped in the Mursels cape, came over, smoking one of Megans cigarettes, which the witch had offered to her after ungagging the young beauty.
“Everything alright, Lady Laranee?” Rowenn asked and gave the gag band of the prisoner a last tug.
“Yes, thank you mylady.” The knightress said in a lofty voice, the marks of ropes and gag still clearly visible on her body and face.
The girl played with one of the slavers whips, approached the kneeling Lady Mursel and put the whip under her chin.
“I think its slavery for you and your business partner, woman. I will testify myself against you in court, and if you are sentenced thusly, I will make a bid on you and the tanskinned slut. You two will make a good addition to my collection of slave wenches.”
“UMMPPHH! NNOOOMMMFF!”
“Oh, yes. Whats that, your nipples are erect. Surely the cold or... how was it in my case a few minutes ago? Lets see...”
Laranee put a gloved hand around a naked breast of Lady Mursel and squeezed. The blond package screamed into the squeaking gag and struggled.
“I thought so. Lets open your plait, you have wonderful hair. We should shave it. Likewise on the Jellraka. And some Dildos would be nice.”
Majavuth the Zoralada intersected:
“It would be improper to shave and dildo the prisoners now, as of yet they are no slaves. We should abide by the law.”
“Too bad, Mother, but you are probably right,” the young knightress laughed.
Dana and Zusha reached the group with the packaged Butrave.
Laranee turned to the ex maid:
“You are in charge of these adventurers?”
“Yes, mylady.”
“I have to thank you for my rescue and that of the other girls. I take it you are on some quest down here?”
“Yes, but I am afraid its exact nature is secret. You and the others must return to the city above and safety.”
“We will arm us with the slavers equipment and take them all with us to face justice.”
“Do you know the way?” Rowenn asked.
“No, but this Butrave wench here will show me the way, wont you, bitch?”
The mentioned girl starred grimly at all around and shook her head.
“So? Seems you want to learn the whip.”
Quickly, the young knightress uncoiled the whip and let it snap, cracking along the Butraves back.
“MMMPPHH! HMMPPFF!”
The girl went down to her knees, her eyes wide, her expression one of disbelief, pain and fear.
“Want to taste it again?”
The Butrave shook her head emphatically.
“So you will show us the way out?”
Now the captive nodded, subdued, eagerly. The knightress smiled, her nose high in the air.
Dana had found her more attractive bound and gagged. Anyway, as Tashmal would have said, the problem of the freed women and the captured slavers seemed to be solved.
The blonde turned to Tashmal and Retre:
“I think we are finished here. Lets be on our way again.”
“Yes, we have lost enough time already,” Retre Zeivel said coldly.