Eilwy's second spell in the dungeon includes a surprise...

The two maids came in as Celia left, still wearing their small black uniforms. They not unkindly helped poor Eilwy onto her feet. Eilwy's knees were still trembling slightly. Elyn and Sara exchanged knowing smirks.

"Gave you the ride of your life, did she?" Elyn giggled.

"Aw, she got you all messy again," said Sara. "We' ll have to fix that now."

They took Eilwy back to the dungeons and bathed her once again. This time they didn't bother to hang her from the ceiling. The enchantress, still bound and gagged and now seriously exhausted, was hardly a threat. They washed her with soaps and sponges and powdered her until she once again smelled nice.

"Just about ready for Round Two," Sara grinned.

"What do you reckon it will be? A parade through Redwell perhaps? The crowds would love to see the Black Reaver in all her glory."

Both girls laughed. Then they dressed Eilwy in a small **** bikini again. This time it was red instead of purple, but it was equally as revealing and demeaning as the one poor Eilwy had been **** to wear earlier in the day. She tried to ignore the maid's soft, prying fingers as they secured it in place. Then they chained Eilwy to the wall, standing up, her arms in a "t" position but bent at the elbow so her hands were level with her head.

"Nice," Sara smirked, brushing some dust from the short dress of her uniform. "I wonder how long she'll keep those pants on tomorrow?"

Both girls laughed and left the cell, leaving Eilwy finally on her own.

She waited for several moments, calming herself with deep breathing. Then she tried to concentrate. She was the most powerful enchantress in the western lands, dammit, and she was determined to seek **** for her humiliation! Unfortunately, no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't find a way out of her mess - unless she could get the gag out of her mouth she was helpless.

It was clearly late at night now. She could hear few sounds from the castle. She was therefore surprised when the door to her cell started slowly creaking open, and braced herself for another encounter with the Marquess. But it was someone else entirely who slipped into her cell - a fat, swarthy man with leering eyes, wearing a red gown decorated with symbols of the goddess Lustra.

He slipped into the room, licking his lips. Eilwy, feeling totally defenceless chained to the wall in her small bikini, shouted threats impotently into her gag. The way the priest's eyes drifted admiringly over her body made her feel unclean, and she was frightened by the clear bulge growing in his robe.

"Eilwy," he said, grinning. "So nice to meet you in the flesh."

"Careful, Slurtis. You're not here for pleasure."

Another figure slipped into the room behind the priest, and he stepped back. The priest shrugged, but Eilwy noted how his eyes still leered.

The new figure was slender and lithe, and moved almost silently in leather armour. When she stepped into the torchlight Eilwy's eyes boggled. It was Sylla - the Marquess's personal enforcer. What was she doing?

"Eilwy the Enchantress," Sylla said with a small bow. "We should talk. I have an offer for you."