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Chapter 18 by Wulfblade Wulfblade

She's about to close the door

"Or worse, me again" sounds like a request

Just before the servant girl is about to push the door shut, you zip inside. You admire your naked victim's body, kneeding one of her breasts while thinking of a suitable final surprise to bestow on her.

You hop outside to gather some suitable materials from workshops and some other people's clothes - ropes, laces and the like - and get to work tying knots around lady Evellyn. You bind her arms behind her back, and move her inside in order to lie her down on the dinner table in the mansion's dining hall. Next you run over to the mansion kitchen for ingredients and retrieve some fruits and vegetables, salad, and one of the largest dinner trays you have ever seen, reserved for huge main courses.

You slide the metal tray underneath the naked knight, and bend her legs upwards in order to hogtie her, tying rope around both of her ankles and attaching these to the bonds around her hands. You liberally surround her with the salads, fruits and vegetables, and stick a small apple in her mouth, using one of the laces to fasten it. Finally, as final touch to this culinary masterpiece, you find the most phallic vegetable in the lot to slide between her legs. You make excited gestures with your hands like a southern chef, deciding the course to be finished, and then find a good spot outside to hide.

Time resumes, and the maid pushes the door shut and locks it. But when she turns back towards her lady, she finds her to have disappeared. Assuming Evellyn to have fled inside, the girl goes back inside the mansion too, and you follow her in as clandestine a fashion as you can manage. Soon enough the servant girl picks up the outraged muffled noises coming from the dining hall, and you listen to her shout of confused shock and concern with indescribable amusement. You peek around the corner, seeing the servant girl run about in utter consternation, attempting to untie the bonds of her mistress, displayed on the table amidst the salad like a roast pig dinner. She's flushed red, both because she is blushing profusely at this peak indignity you heaped upon her, and because she's furious and fed up beyond measure.

When the servant takes the apple out of her mouth, she curses angrily. "Damn him! Damn that Goddess-thrice-cursed bastard!!!"

Your work here is done. You race by in a blur, giving her a good smack on the ass for good measure - eliciting additional curses - and hop out the door and up the garden wall.

You spot something in the street

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