Valkyrie at sea By Diana the Valkyrie (c) 1998; Valkyrie@TheValkyrie.com Part 7 - a Night in Casablanca Update: 14/09/1998 to valkyrie Linda sat down in a corner of the cell and started crying. I looked round the cell. Two bunks, one sink and one bucket. I tried not to think about the bucket, and continued to take stock. I could see the cells on either side through the bars, they were unoccupied. I checked the bunks; plywood on wooden struts, with a blanket for comfort. The ceiling was within reach, which meant it was about six foot high, enough for most of their clientele, I guessed, but somewhat inadequate for Linda even barefoot. So I padded over and sat besides Linda and put my arm round her shoulders. Um, no, try again, round her waist, I couldn't reach her shoulders. She leaned into me, buried her face in my bosom and sobbed. "Come on, Linda, it's not that bad, they aren't going to lock us up for ever." "Oh, Di," she wept, "I've never been locked up, what are they going to do to me? And we'll miss the ship sailing. And we've got almost no money. And and oh oh oh." So I sat and patted her hair and told her not to worry so much, and decided to bring up something that had been bothering me for a while. "Linda, I'd rather you didn't call me 'Di', my name is 'Diana' and I'd really much rather you called me that." She looked up at me, which might sound odd if you didn't know she had her head on my lap by now, and spoke. "You never said, oh, Diana, what are we going to do?" "Well, as I see it, we have two choices. We can either wait here for however long it takes, find out what the penalty for indecent exposure is, and take it on the chin, or else we can escape, get back to the ship, and once the ship sails, we're in the clear." "Escape?" she said. I nodded. "How? Bribe a guard? Maybe I could seduce one of them." Maybe she could, at that, but I had a much better idea. "You see the cell next door? They've left the door open." "Well, there's no-one in there, why would then bother locking it?" "The bars separating the cells aren't as strong as the bars at the front." The front of the cells had a bar running across at waist level, as well as the vertical bars that were spaced six inches apart. The bars at the sides were just as thick, but they didn't have the horizontal reinforcing bar. Obviously the designer of the cells was thinking in terms of all of them being occupied, and hadn't communicated this to the people who operated them, a common problem. "Diana, surely you're not thinking we could get through those bars? I'm thin, but I'm not that thin. And you, well, er, you're, um." "Verging on the burly side. Thank you, I know. I thought maybe if we increased the gap, though. Twelve inches should be enough, which means moving each bar just three inches." "Yes, but Diana, surely not even you ..." "You haven't seen me in action, Linda." "Yes I have." "No, that was just a stage act, where the main purpose is to impress the audience. And men are much more impressed with arm and upper body strength, so that's what I was doing. On these bars, though, I'll use my thighs." And I pulled up my skirt high enough so she could see them. Big. Solid. "Jesus, Diana, those things are bigger than my whole body!" I grinned. "I can crack coconuts with these, come on, let's get started. I want to apply pressure half way up, that's where I'll get the best leverage against the settings." We put a couple of blankets on the floor for Linda to kneel on, and I climbed on to her back, facing the ceiling. Then she crawled backwards, backing into the side of the cell, and I stuck my legs through the bars. "Further, further" I said, wanting to get my legs as far through as possible, so as to get the maximum leverage. Eventually, we were in position, and I started giggling. "What's so funny?" came from underneath me, and I said "Can you imagine what this would look like to someone watching?" "There's no-one watching" she said, which was true enough, so I pulled myself together, and started to bring my legs together. I could feel something giving way as my inner thighs crushed the metal bars inwards. Then I managed to link my ankles and when you've done that, you just straighten your legs, and the resultant pressure is enough to crack a coconut. After a while, I could see we'd done as much as we could, so I rolled off Linda to inspect the damage. "Diana," she said. "Yes?" "You've made them closer together. We need them further apart." Well, I know that, but you can exert a lot more force crushing in than pulling apart. "Yes, I know. Now we do the next pair, and that gives us a twelve inch gap." She nodded, and knelt down again. This time, I wrapped a blanket round the metal, the bare steel against my legs had really hurt. Then I climbed up on her back, stuck my legs through the bars again, and squeezed as hard as I could, trying to ignore the pain in my thighs. After a few minutes, I stopped, rolled off Linda, and stood up. And fell down. My legs felt like rubber, and my thighs were on fire. Human flesh isn't supposed to go up against two inch steel bars, including Valkyrie thighs. Linda helped me stand up, and I wobbled there trying to lock my knees in place and telling my thighs to stop shaking. Linda squeezed through the gap like a hot knife through butter. I tried to follow, and got jammed solid like a cork in a bottle. So I pushed and shoved, but I didn't really have anything to push against, and then Linda grabbed me and pulled, and eventually I popped out like toast from a toaster, flew across the cell, cannoned off the opposite wall and collapsed in a heap in the middle. My legs hurt. My shoulder hurt from where I'd hit the opposite wall, and my bum hurt from sitting down too fast. "Come on, Diana, don't just sit there." Yeah yeah yeah. So I stood up, wobbling rather, and staggered to the cell door and out into the hallway. Linda followed, half-crouching because even without her shoes on the ceiling was nine inches too low for her. I limped and Linda slouched along, looking like one short bandy-legged gorilla and one tall crouching chimpanzee, until we got to the door. I peeked around it, and there was a guard several yards away. I whispered to Linda what I'd seen. "How do we get past him without him raising the alarm?" I asked. "Piece of cake" said Linda, told me to take him out as soon as she had him ready, and stripped naked, then strolled out into the guardroom, head held high (seven foot ceiling, thank heavens) and chest thrust out. And while he was gazing in amazement at the tallest and sexiest woman he would ever see, a Valkyrie rushed over, took him in her arms, and squeezed until he went limp. I lowered him carefully to the floor and arranged him so that anyone seeing him would assume he'd fallen asleep. He'd have some heavy-duty explaining to do when he woke up, but he'd have the memory of Linda, naked, smiling and walking towards him to comfort him for the rest of his life. Linda got dressed again, and put on her shoes. Meanwhile, I pulled out "Souvenir of Skegness" from my hair, and set to work on the door. I slipped the blade into the crack, and then waggled it to and fro, catching the point on the tongue of the bolt and slowly drawing it back until it cleared the snub, another old Boy Scout trick. Linda stood up after searching the guard with a key in her hand, and I stuck my tongue out at her and said that I preferred to do it the hard way, and then we ran for it. Well, Linda ran, a bit like a gazelle. I sort of wheezed along wishing my legs didn't hurt so much and watching Linda recede into the distance. A couple of blokes got in my way as I galloped along, but I don't think they were actually trying to stop me, and after colliding with nearly two hundred pounds of hurtling Valkyrie, they just sort of lay down and hoped that no-one else would tread on them. Eventually, I got back to the quay side. Linda was already on the tender, encouraging me on "Go go go!!!", and I leaped aboard and plonked myself down on a seat, and concentrated on what was really important - breathing. You use up a lot of oxygen in running, and I was a bit overdrawn. By the time the tender got back to the ship, I'd almost stopped coughing and had progressed to some heavy duty wheezing. "Linda, don't tell anyone what happened until after the ship leaves port."