Good triumphs over evil!

Fiona sat in the hansom cab, watching the scenery of London pass by. They were well into the depths of the East End now, having traversed Mayfair, Soho, Covent Garden and Blackfriars on her little day-long tour around the city. Cockneys lined the streets, tipping their caps respectfully to her, winking and leering at Lady Evelyn, who was in the unfortunate position of having to haul the cab.

“Now this is the way to travel in comfort,” she said, and applied another flick of the riding crop to Evelyn’s bare bottom. The mortified aristocratic young woman squealed in outrage, and picked up the pace as best she could as another smart red stripe bloomed across her alabaster skin. “Why travel around the world when you can have this much fun at home?”

Whatever Lady Evelyn’s response may have been, it was lost among the cheers of the Cockneys and the clatter of the wheels.

The raven-haired villainess knew how absurd she looked, with a bit between her teeth and a bright red racing plume on her head, and nothing else to conceal her voluptuous figure but the patent-leather boots on her feet. Her pretty face blazed with shame as she hauled the carriage down the muddy streets of Whitechapel, every inch of her lovely anatomy exposed to hundreds of beady-eyed, chortling commoners, who insisted on bombarding her with unprintable lines like “Oo’s the toff in the nude, then?” and “Cor, look at ‘em cocoa-nuts bounce!”.

Yes, it was true. Lady Evelyn, to her infinite embarrassment and undying shame, had lost the bet. So she had to drag her worst enemy across all of London in a hansom cab, in full view of the public, for all the world to see. While naked. Completely, utterly, stark bare naked. With everyone laughing at her, and even taking pictures for the front page of the Financial Times.

Fiona sat in the cab and laughed and laughed and laughed, and whipped Evelyn’s bottom some more, and laughed again. Evelyn, nude, whimpering, defeated, red-faced and totally exposed in a comically humiliating position for the whole city’s entertainment, kept on trotting down the street, exquisitely aware that this was only the very beginning of her punishment. This was it. Game over. Complete and utter triumph for Fiona. She had lost the bet.

And, sitting in the lotus position on the top of Mount Meru, the god Krishna watched the whole affair unfold with fascination. He put his pipe up to his lips, and blew a short note.

Instantly, every last woman of the Reform Club, with the exception of Fiona and Evelyn, were teleported into Hyde Park with no clothes on. Much shrieking and squealing ensued, with Lady Ashcroft squealing the loudest of all. Another short note on the pipe, and the gathered London citizens watched with interest as ethereal music trickled in from nowhere, and the Reform Club ladies found themselves compelled to dance.

Krishna put his pipe down, smiling. He did so love mortal women. Especially the proud ones. He couldn’t wait to see what they would come up with next.