Angel of No Mercy.
By marcuswriter3@gmail
Lady Ara brutally destroys and humiliates as she avenges some abused women at the hands of an evil man! 


The fervour and interest in the mysterious disappearance of Lady Ara was at an
all time high, when it was suddenly brought to light that a certain strange
event had occurred within the time parameters that the press, police and
special services on government orders, as well as privately hired
investigators, were delving into and most interested in. This particular
happening was hardly an uncommon event however, it was just that this near
over-looked low profile publicised case was more out of the ordinary and anger
inciting than most, for this offender, who was a protected prisoner within the
specialised hospital unit, was a much loathed local female beater of some
notoriety. He was currently serving just eighteen months, out in ten with good
behaviour, for committing a particularly vicious attack on an innocent passing
female within a district of Yorkshire. However, during his time passing
slumbering in his private cell, he had succumbed to the need for an
appendectomy. It was caught in good time, operated on and seemed successful
enough, and for now this scourge of women was happily relaxing on three days
hospitalised recuperation time. The reason for the interest was not so much
the case but rather the conclusion, or not the conclusion as it became more
revealed, of his tale. The Agency, finally aware of this brute's violent
behaviour toward women, had taken hold of this case, most likely he had chosen
the wrong victim this time and someone up high didn't like it.

Douglas Gee, or from now on, 'D', who had held few jobs, mainly labouring if
anything at all, was an habitual and evil attacker of females; since his early
years at secondary school he had liked to show his power over the female of
the species. He had grown into a large man, around six feet two inches and
seventeen or eighteen stones in weight, he was powerful but was reluctant to
test himself against other males, though on occasion it had occurred. He was
still only around thirty years of age and yet since turning sixteen he had
spent more than nine of those in prison. He never raped or sexually molested
his victims but was incredibly nasty and aggressive in his terrible assaults.
'D' thoroughly enjoyed beating woman, girls and young female children and
making them hurt in nothing much short of the most vicious attacks. His
signature moves were professional wrestling linked as he was obsessed with the
sport. He delighted in attaining cruel and painful holds on his victims, his
passion was to wrestle two people, making one watch the fierce manoeuvres he
undertook on the other, making them beg the word 'submit' again and again
until many of them were crying. This was unbearable when a Mother, for
example, was forced to watch her daughter, whatever age, go through such
nastiness as the brute twisted, turned, sat on, bent and pinned the hapless
female. Then he would do similar upon the Mother as the damaged child was then
made to endure the viewing of such a horror. Though born in the South of
England, his Mother, an Irish woman, and Father, a Northern man, divorced and
'D' moved up to the North when he was only ten years old with his Father, an
out of work bricklayer who was a known heavy drinker of a man. 'D' sported a
short cropped hair style which was light-ish brown and was blessed with a
reasonable look, if a little weathered; however, it was the glint in his eye
that attracted the women to him. Always casually dressed in worn jeans and
various emblazoned t-shirts, with the customary expensive looking trainers
that came by way of 'a man in a pub'. He spoke not unintelligently and quite
loudly.

'D' laid in a hospital bed, his own private room of course, a radio and
television to amuse himself with, one wrist securely handcuffed to a metal bar
screwed solidly into the wall. A smile crossed his arrogant lips as he thought
of how cushy he was enjoying this fortunate escape from the drab grey prison
surroundings. An independent security guard remained outside, a formality
really; just to reassure the public that this menace was taken seriously in
his incarceration. The two nurses that together periodically checked on the
patient, gave only the most meagre of checks as their professionalism could
allow, as in their utter disgust at this creatures outside activities sickened
even these angels. He was in fine health, recovering as one would expect if
all was well, this was of much annoyance to the staff, though destiny was
about to enforce that he would have to make the most of the short time left in
his comparatively luxurious accommodation as his vacation would soon be over
with a most startling end.

As evening beckoned and the light outside showed signs of nature dimming and
coming to a well earned repose, 'D' laid stretched out in his comfortable bed
and relaxed his muscle bound head upon the fluffed pillows. The late duty
guard opened the door in a lazy manner and poked his weary face into the room;
his eyes looked at the supine prisoner and then scanned the small white room
that gave no cause for concern and exhibited all that was safe and secure. The
tired face withdrew, the door was shut and the key was turned. 'D' fumbled for
the remote control that was hidden from view within creases of bed sheets, and
once he located it he commanded it to start the television and it duly obeyed.
As the evening slowly travelled to early night and the light outside had
disappeared altogether, save for a few sparse street lights throwing token
sparkles in a universe of blackness, 'D' had steadily became very weary and
struggled to move his big lethargic arms and legs, he also noticed that his
eyes were getting so much heavier and nigh on impossible to keep open. He
believed he heard a muffled scuffle of sorts from somewhere he couldn't quite
pin-point, then he was sure there was the slow-motion turning of a key in the
door but merely wondered if he was just dreaming, a dream that was now further
endorsed as he was imagining looking at three white, ethereal, smiling female
figures seemingly gliding toward him. He attempted to stir and tried to summon
up some energy to facilitate his efforts, however there was none available as
indeed there was no sound emitted from his mouth as he desperately tried to
communicate. Within a minute the brute was deeply asleep.

Stirring from slumber can be an arduous affair, stretching, yawning,
scratching and the clearing of one's head from the maddening random dreams
that usually have no meaning or reason to have invaded the mind at all and
then the settling of common-place sights as reality dawns upon us. The reality
that greeted the recently snoozing large handcuffed man had him awakened in
mere seconds. Two young nurses were present at his bedside, each laden with a
metal bowl filled with implements of medical practice, both had the comforting
look of satisfaction on their faces, be it already achieved or forth coming,
there was a delight in them both that was clear to witness. They were in
uniform, white outfits with few adornments, the obligatory upside down fob
watch and some pens protruding from their breast pockets. Their banded hats
covered some of their hair and the style they fashioned. They smiled at the
unnerved captive and then turned to each other and laughed as they
mysteriously backed out and left the room. 'D' had noticed that they had risen
in stature when nearing the door and a cursory look downwards showed the
trussed up and gagged body of the security guard that the nurses had trodden
on in order to make their egress. There was no time permitted to assemble
these weird happenings into any reasonable order as now another had suddenly
become apparent. Another female, a nurse, now made her way to the foot of the
bed where the prisoner was now assuming a very troubled and agitated manner.

As 'D' concentrated on the female form in front of him he was visibly off
balanced and his curiosity was beginning to enrage him. "Come on bitch, who
the fuck are you then?!" His words boomed out and fell on the pretty ears of
the silent woman mere yards away. A smile crossed her full red lips as she
placed a solitary finger vertically upon them to induce a more reticent
attitude from the violently tempered patient. 'D' began to analyse the full
figured nurse that had him at a disadvantage thus to now. His slow thinking
brain, slow but not dim, was trying to make sense of this strange occurrence.
The woman was tall, maybe touching six feet, not heavy but athletic and strong
in appearance. She had a white narrow hat perched upon her head that encircled
it and covered only partly her black hair that shone like silk and allowed
single strands to fall tantalisingly on her face. That face, what a face, it
was so stern and unforgiving but so incredibly attractive. Dark and mysterious
it projected an irresistible image that was so wonderful to view. The most
gorgeous and sensuous eyes imaginable seemed to house pools of liquid caramel
that hypnotised all who saw them. Large hoop silver ear-rings hung from the
delicate ears and a small stud piercing was centrally positioned and directly
under her bottom lip. A pack of opened cigars could be easily seen from a
pocket lying lovingly on her breast. Even 'D' thought this was very odd
embellishment for a registered nurse. The stiffened uniform massaged the swell
that was the fulsome breast of this enigmatic beauty and the curvy waist
seemed to sway in tempo with the low hum of the television fixed securely high
up the wall that was still activated but had little volume. The white dress
with a hint of blue piping here and there, complete with a wide shiny plastic
buckled belt at the mid-riff, seemed most short as even when hidden below the
bedstead railings her dark tights could clearly be seen that beheld the well
shaped legs equipped with modest but defined muscles. The sleeves were capped
and showed tattoos on each arm, one was most decorative but due to the fuzzy
head of the prisoner he was unable to discern exactly what the design was.
"So, just who the fucking hell are you then, nurse?" This was slower and more
deliberately asked than before, almost said with a small amount of mock
respect possibly. The taciturn female raised a shapely leg and rested her very
high-heeled booted foot on the bed. This was an amazing action as the patient
had now been gifted an extraordinary view of the sexy woman's leg right up to
the black stocking top, his approval was duly noted by a bulge forming in the
blankets and the smirking nurse. Yes, all in all, 'D' thought this was an
extremely beautiful woman and one he must have, hold, and of course, hurt very
badly.

The sexy nurse had not moved since placing her foot on the end of the bed and
she had given no answer to the bad mannered captive patient who had demanded
to know just who she was. The intensity in her eyes that seemed to penetrate
'D' was slightly worrying but all the detestable man could think of was how
much he was going to enjoy beating this potential worthy adversary. There was
an atmosphere now being created that was dictating a change to come, a change
that would alter the world of the captive woman beater. The beautiful nurse
produced her metal kidney shaped dish which had within it a very large sized
glass syringe with a terrifyingly long and sharp looking needle, a rather
frightening instrument that was at least two thirds full of a bright yellow
liquid. The nurse fingered the object a little too sexily for 'D' and he
instantly began to fidget and move restlessly on his bed. "Hey, what the fuck
is that? There's no way you're giving me that thing, you fucking bitch!"
Laughter rained down as the nurse held the syringe and placed two fingers in
the metal rings that were either side of it and slowly moved towards the
patient. The kicking and thrashing around that followed amused the otherwise
stoic nurse and her presence so near made him continue these actions for a
long time in his futile bid to keep the torturer away. His shouts and screams
and noise in general seemed to have no effect on the stern nurse or the
outside world. After fifteen minutes there was a noticeable tiring of all
limbs and effort and the nurse moved ever nearer. Every time that she moved
closer to administer the drug the violent prisoner began to buck and crash
around to deter her efforts, although by now the frenzies were clearly
becoming weaker and weaker with each onset. Following subsequent fits of
temper, the nurse edged ever closer, brandishing the syringe in a cruel manner
and smiling in a most sadistic style. Fortunately for the nurse and seriously
unfortunate for the prisoner, the secured room which this convict was tenanted
within was on the twelfth floor of the huge hospital, the twelfth being the
very top of the building, the penthouse suite if you like, and any noise he
was still trying to produce was most unlikely to be heard by anyone. The guard
had a ten hour shift and his assigned station was not important enough to have
to ring in at intervals to confirm all was well, so his absence wouldn't be
missed, besides, a rather tall, good looking well built East European man in
uniform was casually seated outside of the room to create a picture that all
was as it should be. Inside the room, the rapidly strength sapping patient was
all but done in as he demonstrated his last movements of objection that could
be easily dismissed by most anyone wishing to do as they wanted. The nurse was
ready to do just that. In a second she was upon the vocally protesting lump
and placed her armpit over his face in order to have some control and inflict
some humiliation on him, his arms, though still flailing had little strength
to offer and the sexy nurse placed her knee on one and held the wrist of the
other with a surprisingly firm grip. The arm that held the syringe was the one
belonging to the armpit that smothered the offender's face but was removed as
his resistance was almost nil by now, she jabbed the needle into his arm and
pushed, with some force, the liquid from the glass vial into his unwilling but
accepting vein. The sexy nurse then straddled the prisoner and looked down at
the helpless brute as the drug took effect and began almost immediately to
render him completely paralysed of body but fully conscious of all around him.
He was soon under complete rein and the fun was to begin. The nurse dismounted
her captive and withdrew a mobile phone from a pocket and took a photograph of
the helpless patient and then began to send a multitude of pictured texts,
simultaneously, to many destinations. "Oh, by the way, you arrogant pile of
cow shit, I am Mistress Nightshade and you will be receiving my fullest
attention for the next many days. That's who I am." Lady Ara was vanished from
this scenario and yet another guise was in her place. 'D' was quite rightly
very scared with what was going to happen to him.

There was very little that was pleasant about 'D', his short life so far had
been well documented in the newspapers and talk on the streets from worried
parties. There was always the wonderment as to how he escaped much heftier
fines and more lengthy terms of incarceration. There had been numerous
attacks, vicious assaults and wanton damage, never sexual however. He was
governed by simply sheer nastiness and a desire to injure the fairer sex, the
innocent and mostly completely helpless fairer sex. He had even had lovers',
but not for too long and nothing that could be considered serious. Though
there was perhaps one particular off-on relationship that merited the term,
(almost), long lasting. The Agency had asked Mistress Nightshade to
investigate initially, but then upon their own searching's, had changed the
order to 'Deal With'. That was an open invitation for Mistress Nightshade to
judge and decide what was best to be implemented. This case was one of pure
evil, he had no history of being abused or beaten, he was not a gifted person
but was not a simpleton either. He was evil personified and Nightshade's
belief was that he was in league with a well positioned ally for him to keep
the enjoyment ongoing of this nefarious employment. From a very early age he
had always hit girls, wrestled them and then hit them hard, stabbed at them,
hit them with heavy objects, fought with them for seemingly no reason
whatsoever. He had inflicted much damage on many poor victims. Nothing sexual,
nothing meant to humiliate, though often by accident that occurred, just
non-sexual wanton evil and violence. Angry Parents', boyfriends' and
relatives' alike had often sought revenge but had always had their hands tied
for non obvious explanations. Now Mistress Nightshade wanted to intervene and
see what the truth was and what would be the sentence. As already briefly
touched upon, he had beaten up Mothers in front of their children, beaten
children in front of their Mothers and sometimes their partners too. He was a
despicable low-life and someone so feared must be halted in his tracks.

As 'D' slowly roused himself from his enforced slumbering, for although the
'paralysing' drug didn't induce sleep itself, nature had done that, with a
little help from an intravenously fed sedative, he now attempted to take in
the hazy surroundings he was amidst. All around was shimmering in varying
depths of light; nothing solid or too large was discernible at this time.
There was no noise either, yet the room somehow looked quite familiar to him.
He became more grounded with each passing second and gradually he could make
sense of the room he was in. It was a prison cell; moreover, it was his prison
cell. The sudden realisation made him abruptly arise in shock, this brought
about a sharp pain in his head, a deep fuzziness that made him instantly fall
back onto his sparse bed that creaked as he did so. He arose more steadily the
next time and took in the cold grey iron door, the drab high walls and the
tiny sink with a cupboard that was housed underneath. The dim light flickered
yet he could now almost make a shadowy shape standing in his eye's gaze. It
was clearing as it manifested and became a tall woman, athletic, very
attractive and stern looking. He remembered her now; it was the nurse that
administered the drug when he was in the comfortable hospital ward. He grew
angry and started to sit upright, focussing his rapidly improving sight upon
the determined figure.

"It's you, ya fuckin' bitch. What 'ave you done to me?" The words were
slurred, bitingly harsh, and said with fierce aggression that would have made
grown men tremble at their delivery. However, they made no impression
whatsoever on the serious yet calm looking beauty in front of him. "You are
long overdue a visit from me, you unbelievable vile piece of gutter shite.
Actually, I have a wonderful time of entertainment for you, well, for me
really, but you are integral to the amusement. After which, well, then I'm
going to kill you." Mistress Nightshade spoke her words with a casual but
intimidating manner that cut through any and all bullshit. For a few moments
'D' was perplexed, however, he soon regained his composure. "Big talk from a
fuckin' bitch to a man that's recuperatin' from an op and is handcuffed to a
bloody bed!" ,istress Nightshade smiled a very sexy smile and pointed to his
hands, hands that were right now totally unfettered. As he began to enjoy the
feeling of his free hands he then moved to his clothing and lifted his prison
uniform shirt; he espied that his appendectomy scar was healed nicely too, as
he had actually been in his cell for four days now, under mild sedation,
recovering from his ordeal and he had been drip-fed to strengthen him, when
his recovery looked to have reached a satisfactory position Mistress
Nightshade and her team had been notified and they arrived the night before
this very day. A broad ugly grin began to spread across his mean face as he
realised his ability to move at liberty was once again available. He made to
spring forward but halted his progress as an inquisitive expression took a
hold of his physiognomy. He looked at the unflinching woman before him and
asked, "What's all this about then sweet'art? I mean, I don't even know you,
I'm sure you're not one I've done over before, you wouldn't look so nice if I
'ad!" His attempt at humour raised a smile from Mistress Nightshade as she
replied, "I don't know you either, but I know of you, and your type. The very
thought of you makes me sick, you are no use to anyone or anything so it's my
duty, no, it's my pleasure to dispose of you. I thought your impromptu
hospital admission might spoil things, but, here we are and everything's going
to plan!" The atmosphere was changing rapidly and not to a warmer climate by
any means. The big man got to his feet and was amazed how steady his stance
was and how well he felt. At his highest he was a little above Mistress
Nightshade, which pleased him, especially when he noticed she was raised by
virtue of the very high heeled shoes she wore. A maniacal smile appeared on
his countenance as he grew in confidence. The cell was cold, drab and small,
maybe 14' x12' and around eight feet high, and two bodies inside of it made it
seem positively pokey. "So, you're actually going to fight me? Ha-ha-ha! I
will love 'urtin' you, ya fuckin' bitch!" He danced around in a mocking manner
and threw some air punches Mistress Nightshade's way. The stoic lady was
absolutely immobile, she didn't even blink any more than usual. The question
and answer attitude of both adversaries during the few minutes they had just
spent together meant it was only now that 'D' realised Mistress Nightshade was
no longer in her nurse's outfit. He took an opportunity to take this woman
with a death wish, and her new garb, into his thoughts. He did notice
immediately that she began to smoke an extremely large cigar in a most
provocative way and belched plumes of brown smoke in a most powerful display.

Mistress Nightshade's outfit was extraordinarily sexy. It consisted of a black
woollen shrug that covered just shoulders and arms, a tight fitting
leopard-print low necked top that had thin strapped ties at the sides, a mini
black leather skirt that fitted quite tightly yet allowed Mistress Nightshade
to move noticeably easy and she also wore black thigh-high socks that had ties
up the back part of them, her shoes were black shiny high-heeled stilettos and
looked demonic in their brilliance. She looked magnificent. Gorgeous soft jet
black hair, shoulder length and severe looking brown eyes so very dark and
intruded into ones' most deepest and secretive thoughts. Soft red was the
colour of her luscious lips and her attractiveness was boundless. A long
necklace with a cross attached dangled threateningly downward and rings and
bracelets added to the wild look Mistress Nightshade wanted and achieved. As
she stood smoking her cigar, never once removing it from her impossibly sexy
lips, she cut a style of menace that was hers' and hers' alone. 'D' took all
this on board and leered as a rapist or maniac might well be inclined, his
muscles bulged, his face reddened and his fist's raised, he was ready to begin
his onslaught. A heavy thudding noise reverberated around the cell as the
large convict launched himself at the waiting female; he lifted a huge arm and
aimed his right fist at Mistress Nightshade who so far had not moved an inch.
A shout emitted from deep down inside of 'D' as he charged and vented his fury
upon the dark beauty, it was a fast and furious assault and was frightening to
view.

All cells of violent prisoners' were fitted with damage proof cameras that
recorded 24 hours of imagery continuously, and at this moment, several tall,
broad, athletic good looking East European men were scanning monitors in a
strong room not too far from the action taking place in the basement where the
cell was in this particular prison. It was amazing what a huge amount of money
can do to tempt poorly paid staff to be so agreeable to requests from a
beautiful woman with dubious but official looking documentation. In this case,
several prison officers had found such a financial offer irresistible and made
it phenomenally easy for the trusted aides' of Lady Ara to infiltrate the
building. To facilitate all going smoothly, Lady Ara, in a disguise or two
that she looked so good in, had an amount of gentle, but non the less
'awkward', recordings of high ranking officials who most probably wouldn't
want the filming to come to light, she informed the governor and certain
ranked staff that she was part of an investigative team but felt sure if they
all co-operated things would go their way. Bearing in mind the little nuggets
of their indiscretions from the past she was in possession of, they were only
too eager to oblige. So it was they then, the loyal band of Ara's devotees,
rather than the usual crew of prison guards, who sat at the monitors that
clearly broadcast all that was to happen within the cell room.

The viewing now showed that at the last possible hundredth of a second,
Mistress Nightshade adeptly moved aside with the speed of a fencing expert.
'D' crashed his whole large, heavy weighted body into the wall at a swift pace
and suffered slight lacerations and instant bruising. He shook his dazed head
and swung round in livid temperament to espy Mistress Nightshade exhaling a
large puff of her cigar smoke and smirking at his failed attempt to conquer a
mere woman. He flew at the smug female and bellowed his curses, raised both
fists and brought them down on his nemesis. Once again, with lightning
reflexes and with just a micro instant remaining, she moved out of his way and
for the second time in as many moves the bulky brute clattered into the solid
brick wall, a severely damaged hand and arm, more cuts and bruises and more
laughter and several large puffs of cigar smoke from the laughing Mistress.
This time the contact between wall and man had rendered the convict very
stunned and he dropped unwillingly to the floor, breathing heavily and
swearing out loud at Mistress Nightshade who casually replied to his insults,
"You look in your rightful place all heaped and low down to the floor,
ha-ha-ha, I'm crushing you too easily you fuck-wit!" Mistress Nightshade was
too experienced a professional to let her superb start make her over
confident, she was deliberately agitating the confused oaf into trying another
assault on her. He was only too happy, and too stupid, to oblige.

Once more a charge was called for, only this time the vicious assailant moved
steadily toward Mistress Nightshade rather than launch full speed, a clever
stratagem he mused. A massive sledgehammer of a fist flew through the air
winging its way to the pretty, though hardened, face of the Mistress, she
ducked just in time and the huge hand connected with the solid wall once
again, several loud cracks were heard and 'D's' face was contorted exhibiting
his severe pain as he tucked his already damaged and now most definitely
broken hand under his armpit in a futile bid to stem the pain. He fell to his
knees and cursed his bad luck; he looked through squinted teary eyes at
Mistress Nightshade and spat in her direction. A left knee belonging to the
standing attractive antagonist was brought to the chin of the lump of man who
had appeared to proffer his involuntary genuflection to the harsh tormenting
avenger, the knee caught the flabby chin and the awful sound of a jaw breaking
and teeth cracking and being dislodged was easily discerned. The massive head
of the injured man flew back and took with it his neck, chest and finally his
legs as he crashed to the floor on his back. He groaned and moved slowly as
his damage was realised and felt most painful. Blood had already become most
plentiful on the concrete floor around the moaning hulk of a man. The
lightning reflexes of the gorgeous woman had belied her appearance previously;
she was even faster now as she was already by the face of the brute and rained
careful, calculated karate chops and relentless heavy blows to his head and
with making each one count, the conclusion of his limited defence was arrived
at swiftly. Mistress Nightshade was obviously not finished yet but was in no
hurry to hasten the proceedings as she was just beginning to enjoy her vicious
assaults upon the helpless convict. "Don't go anywhere you mound of fucking
blubber, I have a few calls to make and so you'll have to wait for me a
while." To enforce her request the Mistress kicked him onto his stomach and
sat down squarely on his shoulders, with her knees up skyward to put extra
weight on, 'D' cried in agony and she laughed. He had a broken jaw, a broken
hand, fractured forearm, several teeth missing, many bruises and cuts all
over, many heavily bruised ribs and his prison garb was torn and hanging off
of him, but Mistress Nightshade had no concerns for his welfare. She placed
her hands under his chin and cupped them, then she yanked back his head and he
screamed in utter agony as his broken jaw was handled in this manner, she
crossed her feet under his face and thereby had his head trapped firmly in her
muscular calves, she peered over her knees and looked at the stupidity of the
trapped man's face and she laughed heartily at him as he cried in his
anguished discomfort. He made efforts to unseat her but she sat firm and
laughed ever louder at his foolish attempts. Mistress Nightshade removed her
mobile phone from her black leather skirt, which had risen up around her
waist, and held it in front of the bloodied and battered face of 'D', she then
took several photographs, and sent hurried photo-texts to various numbers and
awaited the replies. As she sat patiently, smoking yet another of her
favourite cigars, on the beaten man's shoulders she bounced up and down to
inflict more pain, she punched at his arms with obvious trained aim and
pressure, the blows hurt 'D' very much and he winced with each connection. The
ping-ping of the mobile announced many times that the answers were flying back
and Mistress Nightshade had a very satisfied look on her sexy face. After
another ten minutes of her sitting on 'D', with her cigar ash continuously
dropping on to the trapped man's head, she arose from the defeated man and
looked down at him with disdain, how easy it had been to subdue him,
disappointingly easy, but there was still fun to be had. She turned him over
so he was on his back once again, he was still moaning and groaning and
wishing he was anywhere other than where he was, and the Mistress began to
undress him, not in a dignified way, she actually ripped the one time prison
uniform, now just tattered rags that barely covered him, off of his body. His
large hideous prison issued underpants drew much mirth from Mistress
Nightshade but 'D' was way too damaged to care by now, and he could only
manage the briefest complaint when she tore them from his smashed body. When
he was completely bereft of all clothing, she handcuffed him, hands behind his
back, and tied his feet together with fine, strong wire that cut in even if he
moved only the slightest distance. Using her almost inhuman strength, she
lifted 'D' into a seated position on the floor with his back against a cold
solid grey wall, securely tethered and helpless to any and all attacks,
however, Mistress Nightshade preferred to move a light plastic black chair in
front of the prisoner and sit down on it, her legs quite a way apart to offer
a wondrous view all the way up her black leather skirt. She stared at her
victim and smiled as she smoked yet another huge cigar, her humiliating
victory was all but secure.

As the loyal servants' sat in the locked steel office watching so carefully at
their individual monitors, the monochrome image of a long coach, with no
tell-tale livery on it to be seen anywhere, pulled up to the huge iron gates
and could be seen by the silent sentinels. The huge electric metal gates
slowly opened and the coach drew into the vast courtyard, it slowed and
several guards could be witnessed moving to the driver's compartment to check
papers and such like for authenticity. All seemed well as they pointed
directions to follow to the letter. The coach pulled off yet again as it made
its 500 metre journey and every single inch was scanned by the devoted
disciples belonging to the Mistress. As it neared a fenced area, it stopped
with a tremendous sound of air brakes hissing their contentment and the
entry/exit door opened in an electric movement until wide enough for the first
uniformed armed guard to alight. That guard was succeeded by another four, all
armed but not on alert, who all beckoned with frantic arm motions to the
passengers to make their egress from the iron transport vehicle. They happily
did as instructed, eager to stretch their cramped limbs after the tiresome
journey, and they seemed to be many in number. All were slight of height and
build, save three or four who were taller and/or heavier, and one was being
helped along by a guard as they were in a wheel-chair, but they were most
definitely all female. They were led in line to the warm inviting office that
lay just inside the guarded enclosure and their welcome was of a glad
reassuring nature.

Mistress Nightshade had studied the vile thing that she had rendered useless
and began to question him, she didn't expect too much back in reply however.
"Tell me why you did, and would still, carry out the sickest attacks on women;
I want to know how it started and why!" The enquiry was a casual matter of
fact type but it demanded an answer all the same. "Get fucked, you whore!" His
reply was perhaps anticipated and understandable considering what the Mistress
had put him through a little earlier. The Mistress replied in a physical kind
and kicked his stomach with suitable force. A scream and some cries were
emitted from the pathetic lump as the question was repeated to him. Sulkily he
looked down and was clearly sobbing but realising he may be hurt again; this
time at least he proffered some words for the Mistress. "I dunno, it's a power
thing I s'pose!" A little sense was made of this but it was far from that
which was asked for. "Listen well, you ugly bastard, I'll cut your cock off
and eat it in front of you if you don't tell me now!" The Mistress looked
directly at him but his face was a fairly bloodied affair and his tears were
genuine so his viewing of her was mostly obstructed. He begrudgingly spoke up,
"I was a little shit at school, no parents to check me, teachers were as good
as useless, then I realised I was stronger than most so I hit 'em! I hit girls
as they cried louder and I enjoyed it. It seemed like fun. It stayed with me
as I grew up, I moved onto older girls and young women and I couldn't, no, I
didn't want to, lose the habit! I got away with it as I came from a broken
'ome, my Dad was an alcoholic and the sympathy vote worked for a while. I
reckon that most of 'em loved it anyway. Will that do ya?" He hung his head
and blood dripped slowly into waiting pools already well established. "I just
wanted to know if there was any mitigating circumstances, oh by the way you
ignoramus, that means excusing your crime a bit, where I would spare you
further pain and suffering and finish you quickly, but I see you're just a
mindless evil shit and I will be enjoying myself as I take my time with your
killing!" Resuming her place upon the chair, cigar in her pouting red lips,
legs apart offering heavenly views, she smiled and glanced upward at the CCTV.

The passengers that had vacated the coach a half hour earlier were now making
their way along corridors of drab, unfriendly grey walls and metal floors that
had thick iron doors either side at spaced intervals. An armed guard led them
and one was at the rear also as the march continued. The wheel-chair bound
woman was now on a pair of crutches but was managing reasonably well in her
efforts to keep up with everyone. Their whole journey was being scrutinized by
the taciturn East Europeans that made their whole purpose in life the safety
and care of their beloved Madame. The parade of visitors moved upwards,
traversing metal stairs, most carefully in the case of the woman using
crutches, footsteps that clanked noisily at their tread, a door at the top, an
amiable guard to open it and as one they all streamed through. There was much
hushed yet excited sounding conversation coming from the group as they made
their way along yet further corridors and passageways that had fewer iron
doors but several office type entrances. The group was halted by the front
guard, a large fellow indeed, who bade them to wait and with a cheery smile,
he and his fellow guard from the rear made off into darkness, satisfied they
had finished their part successfully. A door opened and a new man was at their
vanguard. He looked an official of the prison, or at least higher ranking than
the previous guards that they had encountered. It was found that he was
actually the Captain of the guard and though knowing this was all incredibly
irregular, he was in favour of what was to be. He directed them to move
forward where a guard would open the gate, to go through and follow the white
lines to their final destination for this particular journey. Ten minutes
later they arrived at the cell where a beaten inmate awaited their pleasure.

The head woman of the line of ladies hesitantly opened the heavy iron door
that revealed the tiny room, however, all had to make their way in. It was
dark, as the single light had been extinguished by the sentinels from the
control room. When the last one had squeezed in, there was adequate space but
it was tight, the high pitched fast talking women were asked to please desist
and shield their eyes slightly. This they all did and a buzz was then heard as
a strong bulb powered up and came to life. There was then a gasp in unison, a
slight movement backwards and silence. There before them all was the beautiful
Mistress Nightshade sensuously smoking a large cigar with sexy blue smoke
trailing from it, casually sitting on the shoulder's of the seated naked
captive, his hand's behind his back against the wall and his leg's and feet
sticking out along the floor which were tied by the harsh wire. Mistress
Nightshade had her high heeled shoes planted firmly either side of 'D' and her
legs were quite wide apart with her crotch up against the nape of her
prisoner, her black leather skirt bunched up around her waist. She was
obviously sitting full weight on the helpless man as he was fully crumpled in
his middle area leaning as forward as his tormentor's weight forced him, and
was breathing heavily and audible strains could be heard emanating from the
lump of brute under his tormentor. The cigar in the sexy red lips of the
Mistress glowed red as bits of ash fell bound for the man between her legs,
and she neither held nor removed it as she spoke to the ladies that numbered
seventeen, all packed tightly against the adjacent wall. "I am Mistress
Nightshade, a champion for wronged women, an avenger of rights if you will, so
I am your champion avenger, actually, I've known about this shitty scum-bag
for a while and I wanted to act, though I had to wait for the right time and
clearance from my superiors and this was as good as it was entitled to get. I
know all of you have met this shite before, he has left many impressions on
you, physically, and though there are many more that should be here,
regretfully and unfortunately, it was not possible, so you are their
representatives as well as your own. I, myself, am the jury, the Judge and the
executioner and my decision has already been made. You'll all be relieved and
pleased to know that this fucking low-life is going to die. Today, right in
front of you all as you watch. However, first, there is a matter of much
needed vengeance for all of you. So, I want to know what injuries you
suffered, physical ones only, as I am not able to conduct mental torture at
this juncture, but I can certainly make sure he feels what you felt." The
ladies were spellbound, some were horrified, some were clearly upset at seeing
their attacker so close to them, and others were visibly excited by what was
taking place. A voice spoke out finally, breaking the silence that the group
felt initially. "That bastard broke my nose, two fingers and punched my
stomach about ten times! I was in hospital for three days!" The woman, a small
spokeswoman around 40 years of age, long dark hair and a pleasant enough face
when not spitting vitriol against the vicious thug held firmly in place by
Mistress Nightshade who was comfortably and most cruelly sitting on him. The
beast looked up, forcing the back of his head into Mistress Nightshade's
crotch, he looked at the woman and smiled a mostly toothless bloodied smile,
the Mistress sat herself more firmly on his shoulder's and his head bowed
somewhat. "Then let us even the score in your favour, shall we? I will carry
out the punishments but you are all invited to watch, cheer and tell me if I
get it right or not. This fucker has to pay, yes?" There was a united chorus
of 'YES' as the woman became one and sang their approval. The Mistress was
rallying the crowd and their initial timid reluctance was diminishing as their
voices grew in volume. Mistress Nightshade moved forward from her seated
position which forced the brute's head further down and uncomfortably pushed
his broken jaw into the top of his chest which made his breathing a real
struggle and at which point the pain forced him to start crying. Resting, as
she sat on the back of his head, not quite full weight, but enough for him to
feel plenty of pressure that clearly hurt him; she addressed the ladies, some
of which giggled a little at the man's plight. "There will be some distressing
scenes that follow, please try to remember that this fucking piece of shit had
no compassion for you and all his victim's, whatever age, whatever size,
whatever handicap, so let your anger be raised and feel as ferocious in his
pain as he felt contented with yours." The Mistress then looked at the women
in their excitable state and smiled with a look of evil portent. The beautiful
Mistress spread her legs out even further apart which placed more weight and
strain onto the aching head and body of the captive under her, she laughed
naughtily as a distinct loud hissing sound could be heard, soon after there
was a fairly rapid dripping noise as droplets of liquid fell onto the floor,
the ladies looked at each other in bewilderment and then quickly began to
realise just what was happening, the Mistress, by now laughing heartily, was
peeing on the man she sat on, she was actually peeing through her underwear
and allowing it to seep onto the brute's head and shoulders, down his body and
onto the floor leaving little pools of yellow that, though not too pungent or
offensive, was an act of the most humiliating to be a recipient of. The ladies
laughed outrageously and the Mistress herself was thoroughly enjoying herself
with hands on hips and smug cheery contentment upon her face she continued to
pee until she was completely empty. She began rubbing herself on the back of
the prisoner's head in a mock attempt to dry her private parts; this was
greeted with vociferous laughter from all the ladies. After some derogatory
comments to her 'toilet', she laughed, took in the applause of her loyal band
of spectators and dismounted 'D's' head and quite nonchalantly began to
straighten her black leather skirt that had untidily amassed itself around her
mid-riff, turning round to face the convict as she did so, she was totally
unconcerned with her saturated and rapidly forming stinky knickers that were
clinging around her gorgeous forbidden, sexual parts. The ladies actually vied
for better viewing positions as the Mistress had made it a little awkward to
see with where she was standing, and there was to be no wasting time it
seemed, she stooped down and withdrew her right hand, then released it with a
scary power and a speed that amazed all. The powerful projectile landed on the
bare flesh of 'D' and sunk into his fat filled abdomen, the whoosh sound of
the punch was endorsed by the amount of breath that became released from the
captive's over-worked lungs The groans and moans that he let out due to the
pain he was forced to endure satisfied the Mistress and thrilled the majority
of the crowd, though some, the timid few, winced and turned away, but only for
a few seconds, they didn't really want to miss anything. There were nine more
enormous punches that connected with her target, as he remained sitting tied,
helpless, useless and in agony. The ladies were 'ooh-ing' and 'aah-ing now
with each punch and laughed as they heard his breath exhale and exclaim his
protest which the Mistress totally ignored and the ladies revelled in. His
stomach was red raw from the violence heaped upon him, but, as the Mistress
now alluded to her audience, that really was the soft part of the first
episode. Mistress Nightshade stood to one side of 'D' now and faced the
ladies. "A broken nose was it my dear?" A question to the spokeswoman was
asked and answered immediately. "Yes, he kicked at my face as I went down to
the ground." The Mistress smiled and removed a shoe from her delicate looking
foot. She held it to his nose and ordered him to sniff it as he won't be able
to smell anything else in a short while. The crowd loved that and showed their
appreciation with many giggles. Staying at the side she retracted the bottom
part of her leg and breathed in deeply, she couldn't fail to notice that her
victim was quivering and trying to mumble his innocence and begging for
release. The leg then lowered at such velocity, she twisted her hip and her
foot smashed against the face of the crying brute. Her foot made a hideous
sounding contact with his face and then his head, in turn, slammed against the
cell wall and he then fell forward, as his stomach muscles failed in their
endeavours to keep him upright, almost folding onto his legs. The girls'
cheered loudly and energetically, waving their arms. The great cracking of his
nose, cheekbones and the back of his skull that echoed throughout the cell was
loved by everyone, except of course for the unfortunate 'D' whose nose was now
splintered and spread across his face, a mass of blood and skin where his
feature once was. The Mistress even exhibited a mock 'naughty schoolgirl' look
as she wiped her bloody foot on the chest of the beaten hulk. Laughter erupted
and the lady who had stated that this was the pummelling she took from the man
several years back rushed forward and hugged the Mistress in gratitude. Tears
of laughter flowed, excited chatter from all the women and a general air of
utter satisfaction as the brute sunk lower and lower in his absolute agony
while tethered and remaining floor-bound.

Mistress Nightshade jovially asked for some quiet and a more organised
attitude as all the tasks had not been completed just yet, there was still a
small chore to be executed. The crowd of ebullient ladies looked at each other
with evil intent as they remembered there was talk of broken fingers. As 'D'
caught a hold of the expectation in the air, he started to whimper and plead
louder than ever, but his plea's fell on deaf ears as no-one cared for his
personal welfare whatsoever. The ladies had formed two orderly lines with the
taller ones at the back but by now they had ventured much nearer to the action
than before when they had opted to stand against the wall opposite the
Mistress and the convict. As the Mistress faced them, a wry smile came to life
and the tip of her tongue began sexily licking her top lip, she announced her
intention to proceed with the last piece of this particular lot. Again, she
chose to stand at the side of the shivering, bloodied body that was now
sobbing for all it was worth, and then she espied his hands behind his back
fettered by the steel handcuffs. One hand grabbing hold of his hair and
another grasping his manacled hands, she pulled him cruelly away from the wall
and assisted him on his to fall, less than elegantly, onto his stomach on the
cold hard cell floor. The group of ladies was now more akin to a baying mob as
they demanded justice and maximum pain for the offender that had blighted
their lives and was now just feet away from them helplessly prostrated on the
ground. Mistress Nightshade stood on his back, bereft of one shoe, and looked
directly at the ladies, she had a huge smile on her face and at this time
mentally thanked the Lord she wasn't well known in this part of the country
and that her disguise was a solid one. Stooping down, her full weight pressing
on 'D's' back, she held one of his hands, not the previously damaged one, this
time she went for the left one and separated two fingers from the other three
digits, holding them for the cheering girls to see. Her grip became tightened
and her face took a mean and evil expression, her exertions forced a little
sweat to form on her brow as the beleaguered man screamed in abject horror.
She squeezed the fingers with all her not inconsiderable might, then with most
evil application, twisted, then crunched them using both her hands, the sound
of the little bones breaking was awful, the screeching cries of intense pain
from the wretch underneath her was pitiful and almost shattered the light bulb
with the incredible shrieking pitch attained. The whoops of joy from the women
at the sight and sound of the gorgeous assailant now sitting so comfortably
and dominatingly upon the terrified, badly injured and blubbing man, having
finished her handiwork, was a scene to behold indeed. Mistress Nightshade,
withdrawing a customary cigar from a packet offered by one of the girls, who
indeed also lit it for her, the Mistress had it placed between those fulsome
red lips and smoked in her own honour, gladly taking the applause from the
appreciative crowd whilst still sitting on the small of the man's back,
shaking hands with each and every one of the hysterical women as they
gratefully thanked her. Mistress Nightshade allowed the woman, whose comment
had brought about this initial demolition of the huge crushed man, to pose
while standing on him and have her triumphant photo taken for a momentous
keepsake. The woman did not need prompting twice as she indeed posed so
victoriously upon the broken body, which was shaking and shivering in a state
of pure terror, beneath her.

Incredibly, a further fifteen separate horrendous assaults took place, all
dealt personally by the vicious and sexy vixen that was tonight known as
Mistress Nightshade, such a beautifully dangerous and cold woman that had
quickly become the ladies heroine, each assault lasting around seven minutes
or so, then five for recuperation, along with one half an hour break for
refreshments, alas, not for 'D', though water was sprayed liberally on him
from time to time. The women chatted gleefully and often earnestly about
everyday things as they almost forgot completely the wreck of the sub-human
lying half dead on the floor. Three of the celebrating women used his battered
body as a sofa whilst they drank their coffee; they chatted, laughed and
smoked complimentary cigars handed out by Mistress Nightshade, indeed most
were smoking as they drank their beverages. His list of injuries now included;
all fingers, all toes, both hands, a wrist, a forearm, a thigh, both shins, an
ankle, his nose, both cheekbones and a jawbone all broken, two blackened eyes,
two ripped ears, missing and smashed teeth, many ribs fractured, several knife
slashes and numerous cuts and bruises that his whole body resembled one that
had been in a train wreck. The subsequent assaults that the Mistress carried
out on the hapless male were terrifying and fierce, with the Mistress still
applying the same level of intensity as she did from first attack to last,
with each victim relating just what they had been put through, some had been
wrestled and subjected to weakening holds and then punched, others had been
mainly kicked, one had been almost throttled with her own scarf, one had been
sat upon and pummelled for many punches which left her hospitalized for weeks.
All these awful trials and tribulations the brave women were put through were
now being exercised on the very same perpetrator himself. In turn, after the
individual attacks, the victim was encouraged to have a victory pose
photographed whilst on the crushed brute, they all agreed to this with gusto.
Several times an in-house medic had been called in to check and revive the
fallen prisoner with injections, stimulants and smelling salts as the attacks
from Mistress Nightshade were much too intense to bear without 'D'
occasionally becoming unconscious. A viciously executed neck scissors between
those powerful and beautiful legs that the Mistress owned was most likely the
closest thing to death he had ever felt. What his internal injuries were at
this time remained a mystery. He certainly wouldn't last much longer, but
then, there wasn't long left anyway. It was the turn of the last female
spectator/victim to deliver her testimony to receive vengeance for injuries
she had endured. A handicapped lady, on a pair of crutches today, attractive,
with long dark hair, a little quieter than the others, though energetic enough
in her cheering and vehemence against the evil man when the need arose, she
strode forward and said in clear tones that she had undergone quite similar to
the others but had suffered a terribly damaged spine due to the brute's love
of wrestling and using back-breaking moves on her. It had left her wheelchair
bound 90% of the time. The respectable lady then changed her tone and said,
"Then he turned his disgusting attentions on my young Daughter and did the
same to her, in front of me as I lay broken and helpless on the floor forcing
me to watch while he tortured her in front of me! He made her wheelchair-bound
too! The fucking bastard put her in a fucking wheelchair! Kill him for me,
kill him for her, please, kill him!" She broke down and cried uncontrollably.
The crowd of ladies gasped their utter shock and horror and turned their gaze
to Mistress Nightshade.

"I was aware all eyes were upon me. I have always liked to be the centre of
attention, a regular star attraction me. I was aware of the last victim's
sickeningly vile treatment by the huge lump of shit that was laid at my feet
right now, his body a mass of bloody injuries that I had performed the
production of. I was in a slight state of disrepair myself after all the hard
work I had been through, he may have been a sitting target for the last five
hours of his torture, but the planning, the kidnapping from the hospital and
the initial fight between us in the cell was tough going. Then with all the
continual follow up punishment, I've already earnt myself a holiday ha-ha. I
therefore removed my very sweaty long socks, my shrug which was quite ragged
by now and my skirt, thus revealing my favoured leopard-print knickers, though
sweaty and clingy they now had added pungent aroma of my earlier piss, this
removal of my clothing wasn't for anything sexual however, this was purely for
ease of movement as my clothing was now a hindrance due to its wear and tear
through various exercises. The girls, originally coy and slightly reserved had
gradually changed to a bloodthirsty baying mob, I had really enjoyed seeing
them get so crazy with excitement, encouraging my exploits and with their new
found love for the infliction of huge amounts of physical pain. They had each
performed their own victory pose upon the fat fuck, after I'd dealt the
sufficient and fitting punishment on him, which was photographed so each one
had a good souvenir after their suffering from the original atrocious ordeal.
The girls, all of them, would of course be completely trustworthy as to what
happened this particular day as it meant so much for each one and they would
never betray their beloved heroine. This last punishment would be different
though. It would be the end of the 'fun and entertainment' for the ladies and
I had to decide how the conclusion would actually be carried out to the
satisfaction of everyone, except the big fat evil bastard himself. After what
we had just been informed by the innocent and lovely lady and how it had
ended, though as stated I was aware of the facts already, I was also sure I
had the most suitable end for the miserable wretch all mapped out for an apt
finish."

Mistress Nightshade approached the sobbing, distraught woman and embraced her,
holding her tightly and soothing her as much as possible. The restless, but
patient group of ladies waited for the Mistress to move to the centre of the
cell, where the bloodied and broken lump of sub-human lay protesting and
calling for mercy. There was no disappointment for the ladies as she sashayed
her way to him and espied the girls forming a semi circle round both herself
and the brute. There was to be no ceremony or warning announcement of
intention, Mistress Nightshade just dropped her gorgeous strong round,
piss-stained leopard-print knicker-clad arse on the evil fat fucks back and
sat there, knees skyward and leg's open, regally as she acknowledged the
group's approval. 'D' exhaled a huge bellow of air and then screams of his
loudest and earnest begging so far. The Mistress replied to his unfulfilled
pleading, "Shut...the...fuck...up, you giant slug of a bastard, you're gonna
suffer so much before this is over!"

With that statement ringing in his now deformed cauliflower shaped ears,
Mistress Nightshade leaned forward from her sitting position, she remained
seated on the small of his bruised, battered and cut back, and took hold of
her long black socks that she had discarded earlier and thrown on the floor.
Then she tied one of them around his broken jaw around his face and over his
head and tied it very tightly. This was excrutiatingly painful for 'D', but
then most treatment had been from the very start. The second long sock she put
round his throat and wound it round both her hands likened to a horse rein and
pulled it hard to get the feel of what she wanted. A loud involuntary grunt
escaped from the lungs of the brute and Mistress Nightshade, seated most
comfortably on 'D's' back, her knees still pointed upwards with her bare feet
planted firmly and flat upon the floor, looking every inch the Amazon leader,
heaved on the sock that had become a makeshift rein. The grimace on her face
showed the effort and strain she was putting into this effort and after a
short time rivulets of sweat could be seen forming and dripping heavily from
her. 'D' however was in absolute agony, his head was pulled back and the look
on his face said all that was needed regarding the pain and the damage he was
receiving from Mistress Nightshade, his chest right down to below his navel
was right off the floor, his broken legs unable to move, with tied feet that
the wire had cut into and caused to bleed profusely, made this a most
unimaginably grotesque experience for him. Mistress Nightshade was still
pulling, still sweating and still straining to her hearts delight, she clearly
loved administering every punishment that she was doling out. Minutes followed
minutes that seemed like hours to the suffering offender, and the hold was
still in progress as the smiling face of the strong, avenging Mistress smiled
at the girls and said, "O.K. girls, this is it, get in closer to his face,
have a good look at his crying and pleading ugly fuckin' face, ha-ha, and
prepare to watch the finale! My dear, come here and sit behind me on this fat
fucks bare arse, we'll do this together!" The lady with the crutches was given
a gauntlet from two lines of clapping women as she made her way to the brute's
back and sat down hard on his naked backside. The crowd of girls all knelt and
got as near to the agonised man's face as they possibly could, laughing at it
and spitting their cruel barbs at the hapless fuck. The Mistress continued
pulling on the reins which now were tightening more than ever around her
extremely red and sweaty hands but she persevered regardless, happily
actually. 'D' screeched out for mercy, begging the Mistress to stop this
terrifying torture.

Mistress Nightshade laughed and spat on the back of his head in answer to his
cries. Suddenly the big fat body of the quivering mound of flesh could take no
more and the enormous sound of a huge crack followed by a few less intense
snaps could be heard singing their way around the prison cell.

The Mistress had actually broken his back! The girls whooped and cheered and
danced around as they extolled the Mistresses hard work. The woman sitting on
'D's' arse jumped up and down as much as she could and tears flowed from her
bitter but happy face. Mistress Nightshade kept 'D's' head up in the same
position for an extra ten minutes and photographs were taken by everyone for
posterity. The celebrations went on for a little while until exhaustion wore
them all down, they had been served wine and cigars brought in by the
sentinels to celebrate their vengeance and with no exceptions; they each got a
little tipsy. The broken body of the offender was moaning and groaning and
crying with all his little left strength, and then, as if all were as one, six
of the women casually used him once again as an involuntary human sofa,
sitting on him in all his despair and agony they cared not one jot, they
actually seemed totally unmoved by the copious amount of blood and moaning
that was coming from under them, they simply enjoyed chatting, smoking and
drinking. The Mistress knelt down to his bloodied, smashed face and whispered,
"This is just the beginning you fucking bastard, you're never going to walk
again, never going to see again, you'll never need to brush your teeth again,
ha-ha-ha, never shag again, you'll need help to have a shit you utter cunt!"

When the jubilant celebrations began winding down the merriment continued as
the girls proffered their undying thanks to Mistress Nightshade and cuddled
her exuberantly, they were each handed a large brown envelope, the contents
were a very large amount of money and tickets for a World cruise for six
people with all expenses paid. The lady on the crutches was given a separate
and extra £20k for her Daughter's benefit. The woman was so very grateful
that more tears were inevitable and duly came. After a short time, the cell
was eventually emptied of the group of girls that had been present for seven
hours during the 'show' and it now had an eerie silence as the brute lay
prostrate on the floor and Mistress Nightshade sat on the plastic chair that
she had used before.

The participating audience was now on its way back to the coach, contented,
richer and ready to begin living again. Just like it was on their way to the
prison, they were now each given an injection which allowed them to sleep
until their journey was over, each delivered to their doors and escorted to
them by a plain clothes guard. Their slumbering manner didn't allow them the
knowledge that they were transferred from the coach almost immediately the
drugs had taken effect and were assisted into many ordinary used small cars
that were waiting not far from the prison gates but unseen by CCTV. The coach
would be crushed within hours and most probably melted down in days. For
Mistress Nightshade there was a little more to be done, though she was quite
relaxed in the knowledge that the loyal band of disciples that would die for
her, would be taking care of the prison and cell recordings and replacing them
with computer generated footage that shows the delivery by hospital
'officials' to the prison of the recently medically treated convict, all very
well and recuperating as should be, then the prison break-out days later via
an administrational balls up and the aid of an unknown assailant. This had all
been created by members of her sect who were knowledgeable in many important
and useful ways, the computer buffs amongst them had produced a tremendous
work of editing and re-editing, splicing and eventually having made an almost
film quality production that would fool the layman and hold up experts when it
came to the time for such scrutiny to begin, which one day it would, and now
indeed had. They already had the backing and devotion of the involved prison
staff coerced by over generous donations and the fact that each one was being
blackmailed over various agendas that would ruin their lives and careers if
disclosed. The escape wouldn't be announced for many days due to
'embarrassment' of the prison and its staff for their huge lapse in strict
regulations and rule procedures, some token gesture low ranking heads would
roll, but, indeed, each one had been satisfactorily catered for financially.
The same had happened with the hospital staff and guard who played his role
very well indeed. For right now, the prisoner, along with the group of girls
was smuggled out of the prison and were being taken to their respective
destinations, the ladies to their homes and the prisoner, well he was off to a
remote place where he would live out whatever was left of his life at the
mercy of his captors, in this case a certain less than well known complex of
Government buildings that liked to, shall we say, perform 'gentle' tests on
particular subjects to see if any help can be obtained for people of a similar
disposition. Oh, he would get visitors now and again, or at least Mistress
Nightshade may pay a call. The business was all but concluded, there was a
small matter of realising just who was the suggested high placed figure that
was most certainly behind 'D's' many acquittal's and lesser sentences for his
violent and vile crimes, however, that, seemingly must be put on hold for
another time. So, for now it was just to wait, for whom and when she could not
be sure, but wait she must. The Mistress herself was far from satisfied, she
hated loose ends and as she made her way from the prison, in yet another
disguise, she sighed and thought about that rest she promised herself.

All this was evidence gleaned from suddenly courageous ex prison guards,
disgraced Captain's of the guards and a few hard up Hospital staff that were
grateful for the authorities extra bonus, all of whom had found a new strength
thanks to the much publicised disappearance of a certain Lady. However, they
hadn't betrayed their beloved Mistress; they had quite simply given slightly
misleading information to a desperate authority.

'D' would never be found alive however.