Wanda the "Burlgar" vs ?

As much as she didn't want to enjoy it, Wanda started to move more often for the reward.  The feeling in her clitoris was allowing her to avoid thinking of the girls in the stands, mocking her.  At one point, her body gave in to the teasing, and her knees collapsed from beneath her, leaving her prone, and sending Halia tumbling off her.

The crowd laughed as the big girl rolled over and slipped her own finger between her lips, rubbing furiously. Ignoring Halia, the crowd, and the queen for a moment, her flesh quivered wildly with each touch, making her seem like a furious lump of gelatin.

((Man, Halia's butt looks great in that picture, haha... It occurred to me when I saw it that I didn't describe Halia having a bra under there; it was a little confusing the way I wrote it.  For the purposes of these pictures though, I am certainly not complaining. XD
Cant wait to see the rest!!))

Oh, yeah...ooops...I was thinking she must have one during the bout, hence able to win. Forgot when I was rendering, b/c I didn't know if it was green or what...lol.

((for the record, it is a matching, strapless bra...
but I don't think you really need to bother adding it, do you? ))

((These are excellent!! I'm at work (lol) so I'll give them a more thorough, er, review later... But the look on Halia's face in the first one: priceless!))

((btw, did we want to just call it a match there? or do we feel the need for some conclusion?))

((I'd love if you conclude it in a final sounding way...so, how long can Wanda expect to be in the arena for treason?  Where's she gonna live?  I ask because I may have her "catch up" with some of her old school "friends" after the match at some point, lol. Beautiful humiliation by Halia, btw, nice writing altogether. But is Halia gonna tolerate being bucked off while she masturbates? It might be time for Halia to exert her control, lol.))

((lol, I had considered that last bit. And quite frequently people serving a sentence by arena fighting have to stay in the relatively pleasant arena prison. Some are even allowed to be out 'on bail'. Of course, depending on how the keepers are feeling, they'd probably allow Wanda to have some 'friendly visitors.'))

((Excellent. I'm thinking she runs into them outside, starts to get the better of them, then...well, things go as they have gone for her.))

"Jeez, folks. Wanda's really losing herself, there," Aloysius said thoughtfully. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. Just... have yourself a great time, Wanda."

Wanda's old 'friends' were beside themselves with laughter and amusement. There wasn't a moment that went past that they didn't cherish and milk for mirth, and they wanted Wanda to fully be there for each said moment.

"Wanda-moo, I knew you were a horny little slut!" one called out.

The viewing sphere showed her fingers eagerly penetrating slick folds repeatedly, or playing with her clit. She was on her back, legs spread, and if one were close enough they could hear the lewd, wet noises her digits were making.

"Ewww, her pussy is all hairy and gross," laughed one of the schoolgirls sadistically. "Trim that shit up!"

Halia was picking herself up out of the sand and brushing herself off. With a little scowl of irritation, she looked over at Wanda and her eyes went wide with a bit of indignation.

"Hey! Who said you get to get off?" she asked incredulously. A little bit of fire seemed to reappear behind her eyes, and she disappeared suddenly in a blur of speedy motion. When she was done running circles around Wanda, the poor rogue was left bound in the sand by Halia's thin gold cords. The wires dug into her supple, soft flesh in bands, making her look all the more plump, and, to make things worse, Wanda was bound with her legs spread out to the sides, with her hands bound under her knees. She was stuck there on display, and, Wanda would soon realize, unable to conventionally pleasure herself.

Halia held out a hand, fingers fanned out as she closed her eyes in some of the more serious, concentration-requiring magic she was capable of but seldom did. She was drawing on some of the ambient magic of the arena, accessing the wealth of props and toys...

...when out of the aether shimmered into view... a saddle?

It appeared to be a plain leather saddle at least, though this one was... strange. It featured a series of several smooth, marble-sized bumps right along the crotch of it. Nearby, perhaps with a sense of dread, Wanda could hear the thing buzzing quietly, as if it were vibrating intensely. Halia hooked her hands in some of the wires such that Wanda had to do her best to move where she wanted.

"Up, up, up you," Halia chirped. "Onto the saddle-thingy. Oooh, doesn't that feel nice?" she giggled as she did her best to lift Wanda up, still bound with her legs spread and her hands beneath her knees, onto the saddle. Intense, hard vibrations began to spread through her body, eliciting immediate loud moans from her. Her jiggly body shook violently as she squirmed there on the sybian, shifting to try and keep her cunny off of that vibrating ridge at first.

"You wanted to cum that badly. Maybe we should just leave you here like this for a day long event, huh? Maybe five or six more hours?" Halia taunted, stuffing a soft wad of cloth into Wanda's mouth at last. The object she suddenly gagged Wanda with looked suspiciously like... her undergarments. Sure enough, Wanda was moaning lewdly into her own panties, stuck on the torture/entertainment device that was that vibrating saddle.

Five hours? Wanda thought. I'm not going to last five minutes on this perverse thing! she considered with panic. Just then she saw herself on the viewing sphere, and realized again the sheer volume of the crowd. One always had to consider that the viewing sphere is large enough to be seen from quite far away. Just how many people were going to see her cum if she didn't resist?

Wanda was aware that she wsa jiggling all over the place. The full realization that she had been lying on her back, fingering herself in front of thousands hit her, but somehow, sitting, bound as she was, on this vibrating contraption was even mroe embarassing. With each bounce, she felt the flesh of her body sway. "I must look like a damned gelatinous cube," she thought.

She tried to cry out, but to no avail. Her "Moo--mpppph" was muffled by cloth in her mouth. Slightly damp cloth, with a pungent but not unpleasant sweet flavor. "Mmmmrph" she said again, realizing what that cloth was.

The bumps underneath her massaged and sometimes penetrated her lower lips, and the puckered pink hole just above them. She had snapped out of her desire to orgasm now that she was again aware of her audience, but after a few minutes, her mind lost out to the matter of the sybian beneath her. With a muffled shriek, she collapsed as much as her bindings would let her, resistance broken, as a stream of sticky liquid flowed down both sides of the saddle. Mercilessly, the device continued to vibrate, but Wanda was limp, exhausted, and barely responsive.

"Wake up, Wanda-moo!" shouted one of the girls in the audience.

((I didn’t know where on the boards to put this, so I put it here, as it’s a bit of a continuation anyway))

WANDA MEETS SOME OLD CLASSMATES

A few days after Wanda’s humiliating defeat at the hands of Halia, she was allowed to venture out of the arena prison.  Actually, she’d been allowed to venture out earlier, but was afraid to deal with the jeers and quips that she’d inevitably confront after what happened to her.  While the arena remade her “Red Rose” rogue costume, both because of the humor of it and the sheer terror she felt as the structural shaping garments came loose in front of everyone, some of her former servants had been allowed to visit her, and they brought some of her regular clothes and undergarments from home.

Today, perhaps trying to dress as dignified as possible to compensate for her last public appearance, she wore a full-length black gown with gold trim, and a decorative girdle around the waist.  The outfit was altogether too much for wandering about town, and she had no plans to attend a grand evening event where it would have fit in.  In fact, she would have been content to stay in her chambers if she hadn’t done so out of shame for the last several days.

Wandering down the hall through the gates, she could see the smirks on the faces of the guards.  She almost turned around and went back.  But if she went back now, she’d likely stay alone in her chambers for several more days, except for the possible visit by one of her parents’ servants, most of whom were too glad not to serve anymore to bother more than the token visit they had made.

She steeled her resolve, and walked out of the confines of the arena for the first time in more than a week.  As she stepped into the marketplace, to her surprise, no one seemed to notice her or care about her presence at first.  But her expensive dress started to draw some looks.  She was able to move through the crowd without feeling as self-conscious as she imagined.  One man carrying a heavy sack over his shoulder merely smirked when he passed her, and this made her stomach turn.  There was no way to know it was about her arena experience, but she felt that it must have been.

Wanda walked over to a stall and handled some cloth, much less fine than what she was wearing, as an excuse to step away from the center of the road and into some shadow, in case the man drew attention to her.  Seeing her outfit, the cloth merchant came running up to her, hoping she’d buy something.  She put down the cloth and walked away without remark, as soon as the smiling man was out of sight.

Continuing down the street, she found herself someplace more to her liking: the baker’s stalls.  She hadn’t tasted anything sweet in her mouth since Halia gagged her with her own—she pushed the unpleasant thought away.  Here, she inspected everything.  She would have liked to buy all of it, but money was no longer something she had large amounts of, and she’d have to choose.

Staring at the cakes, pies, and sweetmeats before her, she lost herself for a moment.  What brought her back to reality was collection of familiar voices.  “Is it?” said one.  “It is,” said another, “it’s Wanda-Moo!”  Wanda cursed herself for not being aware of the time.  It must have been just after three PM, when her academy let out.  Why didn’t she go back to the arena prison before that once-joyous time of day?

Wanda was forced to abandon hope of escaping notice now.  She feared the worst.  Turning her head, she corroborated her fears.  Standing in the middle of the street, staring at her, were three young ladies from her school—the same three that had been jeering at her during her humiliating bout with Halia, and who had tortured her mercilessly more times than she could count before then.

Lori was a diminutive girl, with fiery green eyes, and chin-length auburn hair.  She was always perfectly coifed and perfectly made up.  Every young man Wanda had ever met thought she was the girl of his dreams, but none of them were going to get anywhere.  Lori was always dating the most elgible, and dumping them for another, better date in a short matter of time.  Her secret was that she, like Wanda, was still a virgin, but not for lack of people trying.  Lori was uninterested in sex (or perhaps boys?); she used her dates to enhance her status and discarded them after the first time they tried something.  No one but Wanda seemed to notice that Lori was very private with her body, even in the shared quarters of the all-girls academy.  What Lori lacked in height, she made up for in pure viciousness.  Her beauty and popularity made her the undisputed queen bee of the school, and bad things tended to befall anyone who tried to dispute this status.  She was the apex predator of mean girls, with a cruelty so creative it never ceased to amaze, and a tongue as sharp as Syndra’s razor.  She had made Wanda’s time at the academy a living hell.

Jayne was a tall, dark-skinned beauty.  As intelligent as she was well-proportioned, Wanda didn’t wonder why she was so popular.  But popularity meant being one of Lori’s cohorts, and even if Jayne’s heart wasn’t quite as cruel as her friends, she played along.  She was wearing a long red dress with a dark red belt.  She preferred bright colors.  Wanda always found this a useful warning to get away when she saw her coming down the hall.

The third girl was Scarlett, an aptly-named redhead.  Scarlett wasn’t quite a smart as Wanda, Jayne, or even Lori, but she wasn’t the dunce of the academy by a long shot.  Wanda always thought that it was her middling intelligence and attractiveness that caused her to latch on to her girliness in an almost comical way.  She dressed in all things pink, with bows, frills, and ribbons.  She refused to do anything that seemed unladylike to her standards, even if all of the girls at the academy were required to do so.  She was meticulous to a fault about hygiene and cleanliness, and once petitioned the headmistress to have a laundry maid flogged for leaving a spot on one of the tablecloths she washed.  Under all this pink laciness was a toxic personality, made more vicious by knowing she’d always play third-fiddle to Lori and Jayne.  
Nevertheless, she was their unflinching supporter, but took great pleasure in the cruel schemes they carried out to humiliate their lessers.  She seemed to enjoy it even more than Lori.

It was Scarlett who spoke next.  “I’m surprised they let your fat ass out of that arena.  How did they manage to fit you through the gate?”  She smiled, self-satisfied at her clever barb.  Wanda bit her lip, wanting to respond, but hoping somehow she’d get out of this unscathed if she remained silent.

“Cow got your tongue, Moomoo?” Lori taunted, or were you so embarassed shaking your flabby belly on that saddle for all of us that you lost your powers of speech?  Come here, you stupid cow.”

Wanda couldn’t remain silent anymore, but was so taken aback, she had little to say.  “No,” was all she could manage.  “Ooooh, now that you’re some big arena celebrity, you don’t listen anymore,” Lori continued.  “Well I’ve got news for you.  You’re not a celebrity.  We weren’t celebrating your huge bouncing ass, we were laughing at it.  With the rest of the city.”

Wanda couldn’t take anymore.  Her eyes drifted over to the pies in the stall where she was standing.  She picked up one covered in thick cream.  While Lori was laughing to herself, Wanda threw it.
Lori choked on her laugh as the pastry’s filling exploded over her face.  It hung there comically for a moment, as she raised her hands to her face.  Wiping her eyes and flicking the cream from her hands (causing Jayne to jump to the side to avoid being hit by it), she managed to open her eyes.  Scarlett seemed to be trying to hide a snicker.  Lori would remember that later, but more importantly, Wanda was no longer in the pastry stall, but running down the street, in the direction of the arena.  “Arrrgh!  Get her!  She’s gonna pay for this!” Lori screamed, acutely aware that the marketgoers who didn’t attend her academy had no qualms about pointing at her and laughing.

Always one to listen to Lori, Scarlett led the charge.  Jayne was taller and so able to run faster, but she seemed more concerned about protecting her dress and her modesty than motivated to help Lori carry out revenge, so she ran at a slower pace, holding the bottom of her dress daintily.

Wanda had a headstart, but she was considerably slower than her pursuers.  She needed to break their line of sight.  She darted down a small alley toward the area where Enferia’s shantytown gave way to the tactical clearing next to the city wall.  She might not have attracted as much attention as she had thought she would in the marketplace, but running here, in finery was unusual and as she passed, she heard people saying things like, “Look!  It’s the cow girl from the arena,” “Stampede!” and “C’mere moo-cow, I got my sheep shears; I’ll shear all that wool we saw in the arena.”

She didn’t think when she started the day that comments like that would hardly matter when she heard them.  She didn’t expect to be running scared.  Another turn took her to a cleared area by the city walls, where the streets weren’t paved.  Her feet slipped as she tried to maintain traction, and distance from her former classmates.  It hadn’t rained in a few days, but because of the way the city drained, the ground was always muddy here.  Of course, as a noble, Wanda had never been to this part of town before and didn’t know that.

Slipping as she was, Scarlett was so close to her, she caught the back of Wanda’s dress.  A ripping sound confirmed that at least part of the back of it had ripped, perhaps up to where to girdle gathered it tight to the skin.  Familiar, rose-patterned panties came into view.  In fact, most of Wanda’s panties were of that pattern, for reasons she was now beginning to comprehend--she was a descendant of the legendary Red Rose.

Wanda looked back, Lori, face still covered in pie, was still many paces behind her.  Another fifty paces or so back was Jayne.   Looking had been a mistake.  Scarlett was close enough to have torn part of her dress, but the delay caused by turning her head slowed Wanda enough that Scarlett got a hand in her hair.  Wanda shrieked.  She had to stop running now.  With one hand on her hair to protect it, the other punched Scarlett in the stomach, winding her.  When Scarlett let go of her hair, Wanda grabbed her pink, frilly dress with both hands and tugged.  The crowd that had gathered to watch was treated to a view of Scarlett’s lacy pink bra and ludicrously frilly pink panties.   Wanda tossed the dress into the crowd, where a beggar caught it.  It was the most expensive thing she’d ever touched.  In moments, she was out of sight, hiding it until she could find a buyer.  It would feed her for a year or house and feed her for a couple of months.

None of this mattered to Scarlett, who was acutely aware of so many eyes on her undergarments.  They were laughing, all of them.  These common people--shepherds, merchants, farmers, beggars—they were laughing at the young noblewoman.  She never imagined this would happen.  “Foul peasants!  Avert your eyes!  Don’t laugh at me!” she screamed, trying to cover herself, but unable to decide what she should prioritize—her lacy bra or the full, frilly, pink panties.

Wanda, for her part, saw Lori just about to catch up to her, so she knew she’d have to act as quickly as possible.   She grabbed the distracted Scarlett by her arms, spun her around, and pushed.  Wanda didn’t have time to look at her handiwork, but the disgusted and suddenly-muffled scream she heard as she ran off told her Scarlett had landed face down in the deep, thick mud just to the side of the makeshift path, just as Wanda intended when she pushed her.

Wanda was hoping that this would slow Lori down, and make good her escape, as she turned down another street leading back toward the neighborhood of the arena.  She imagined that Lori cared enough about her toady to stop and help her out of the mud.  It turns out, she was giving Lori too much credit, as she stayed hot on Wanda’s heels.  Unseen by Wanda, Jayne did have the compassion to stop and help her friend, although she didn’t have the control to repress a giggle at the obsessively-clean sissy’s muddy state, nor her ridiculous underwear.  It was Scarlett, surprisingly, who reminded her that Wanda was getting away, and the two of them darted down the alley after them, one pristine in her red dress, and the other covered only by mud and her frilly underwear.  For Scarlett, it was now more personal than ever.

“I’m gonna get you, fatass!” Lori yelled at Wanda.  Wanda knew she couldn’t stay ahead of the petite girl for long.  It was then that she saw an open door.  “Ripped Bodice Tavern,” said the sign.  She ducked into it, hoping to get lost in the crowd.

((part 2 coming sometime, and some images--these antagonists are really cute, as you'll see, and Wanda gets help from an unexpected source...just in a nick of time, or maybe only slightly too late.))

Part 2

Wanda had never been to this tavern, or any other, before. The stench of sweat and alcohol and the press of the crowd was a new experience. For a moment, she froze, bewildered. It was a moment she could ill afford. “That’s far enough Wanda-Moo,” Lori said, grabbing the neck of her dress. Wanda turned to look at her, and saw an enraged Scarlett and Jayne arriving. The crowd had turned to look at Wanda, with the back of her elegant dress ripped open, her giant rose-patterned panties sticking out, but they were also glancing at the Pie faced girl who seemed to have caught her, and the new arrival, caked in mud from head to toe.

Lori planned on holding Wanda where she was while she decided what to do next, but Scarlett would have none of that. Without a word, she came up and grabbed Wanda’s dress, pulling hard on it. In moments, Wanda was reduced to just her shoes, bra, and panties. She shrieked and tried to retreat deeper into the tavern, but Lori, now on the same page, grabbed the back of her bra. Wanda stopped dead. Everyone who had seen her defeated in the arena knew what secrets her bra held, but she didn’t want to show everyone in the tavern. Scarlett grabbed the back of her panties and held her in place with a massive wedgie, as Lori unclasped the bra. Wanda’s hands came up to catch it, and the padding that filled it, but Jayne appeared in front of her and started tickling her soft love-handles until her hands involuntarily dropped to her flanks to try to preempt the tickling.

The whole tavern laughed as Lori removed the bra, and held up a piece of padding for all to see. Jayne shoved her hands back where Scarlett was able to grab them and tuck them through the legholes of her painfully-stretched panties. Now, her arms were being restrained behind her, and leveraging her wedgie at the same time. Wanda had lost the ability to speak coherently. She merely let out smile whines now and then. This left her front unprotected to the eyes of the viewers, and the tweaks and prods Jayne started, occasionally returning to the tickling. “This cow is a fake!” Lori was screaming, triumphantly, waving the padding over her head.

Unfortunately for Wanda, the crowd was happy watching her, so this ruckus hadn’t yet garnered the attention of the tavern’s security personnel. Just behind the bar, where to opening to the rest of the tavern was, there was a hanger for the butcher to deliver sides of beef. Straining with all their might, Jayne, Lori, and Scarlett managed to hoist Wanda onto a tall barstool just below it. When Lori confirmed that she had snagged the hook in the back of Wanda’s panties, Jayne pulled the stool away. “There’s a place for all this beef! This cow is no milk cow!” Lori taunted, tweaking the nipples of Wanda’s tiny breasts.

Hanging as she was by the wedgie, arms trapped through the panty legholes, the girls could spin Wanda around, and alternately show the crowd her enormous backside, or her bulging stomach and small breasts. All of these were subject to pokes, tweaks, and smacks from the girls and the crowd. Wanda’s makeup was running down her face, drowned by her tears. There was no hope for her—once Lori started picking on someone, she kept it up until she got bored; but her own cruelty could keep her entertained for hours. What’s worse is that the crowd that had gathered around enjoyed the show so much that they placed watches around it, and delayed or diverted any staff member headed in a direction that might spoil their “fun.”

Wanda closed her eyes. She’d be here until Lori got bored or some kind soul decided to rescue her. “Not likely,” she thought. Moments later, she heard a shriek. That was Jayne’s voice. She opened her eyes. Jayne was standing with her hands over her breasts, completely devoid of clothes, save her shoes. She was blushing so hard that it showed through her dark complexion as she simultaneously tried to cover her breasts and look around her, as if to discover who had done this to her, but to no avail. She didn’t seem to notice that her nether regions, were also uncovered, showing off a generous patch of pubic hair. The crowd seemed very confused.

Lori failed to repress a laugh at her companion, but there was a look in her eye that showed genuine concern—not for Jayne’s modesty, but that whoever did that was still out there, and no one seemed to have caught a glimpse. She was concerned for her own sake.

That’s when a high-pitched squeal came from the other side of the room. Some of the members of the crowd went running to find its source, Jayne included, still covering up. There, locked in a set of stocks was Scarlett, her childish panties pulled to her thighs, her backside bearing a stinging red hand mark. “Who did this?” Jayne asked. “I didn’t see, it happened too fast!” Scarlett replied. “Alright, let me get you out of there.” As Jayne approached the stocks, a cloaked figure dropped on her from the ceiling, knocking her to the floor. The crowd drew back in terror in surprise and the almost supernatural speed with which the figure was moving. In a matter of seconds, Jane was lying on the floor on her side, hogtied with a bit of black cord.

Lori had seen the figure drop from the ceiling, and decided that, instead of watching, she’d head for the door. But just before she got there, the same figure stood in front of her. “Who are y-?” Lori’s words were cut off abruptly as she was hoisted over a shoulder. The taverngoers cleared a path for the cloaked figure, who they now saw was female, and dressed in black leather armor, and a cloak of dark brown, nearly black. Her face was somewhat hidden by the shadow of her hood, but the more observant of them made out a self-satisfied smile and a chin-length lock of jet-black hair.

To Lori’s surprise, when the figure threw her on the ground next to Jayne, and in front of Scarlett, no one had bothered to try to free her friends in the meantime. Of course, no one had stood up for Wanda either, and, she assumed, this cloaked figure was even more formidable than three mean schoolgirls, so no tavern patron, no matter how drunk, was going to cross her.

She didn’t have time to reflect on this long, as she felt her own dress being tugged. She panicked. She couldn’t be revealed like this! Not after the things she and her friends had yelled at the arena. She tried to punch the cloaked figure, who merely intercepted her fist with one hand, while continuing to remove her dress with the other.
Held in place before the crowd by the back of her hair, Lori’s undergarments were revealed. Full-cut briefs with a country-style, almost quilted red-and-white checker pattern, and a rose-colored frill bra. She felt a hand tugging her arm up, and the other let go of the back of her hair, instead tugging on the tuft of hair under her arm. Scarlett laughed. A black-leather glove slapped her backside, before dragging Lori over to the stocks next to her. No matter how Lori fought, the hooded figure was quicker and stronger. Once she was secured, the figure approached Wanda.

Wanda held her breath for a moment. This figure, and the way she moved, was familiar. This must be the same person who visited her in the arena before her duel, handed over the small casket that contained the dagger. “The dagger!” Wanda thought for a second, “if only they would have let me carry it out of the arena, things wouldn’t have gone this badly.” Her consciousness was forced back to the present when she found a pair of gloved hands under her arms, lifting her off the hook and back to standing on the floor again. As she helped Wanda remove her arms from her panties, both realized that the undergarments had become too stretched to stay in place. Wanda tried tying a makeshift knot, but the figure, who had yet to utter a word, peeled off the dark cloak and placed it over Wanda’s shoulders.

The crowd gasped at the beauty of the woman before them. In form-fitting black leather stood a graceful figure, with black hair in a ponytail, one long lock falling to the side of her face. Her large, almond-shaped eyes had a slight angle to them, enhanced by high cheekbones and a delicate nose. But by far, the most memorable thing about her was her smile. It wasn’t perhaps, a smile that suggested amusement or contentment, but rather confidence, superiority. Wrapping the cloak around Wanda, she led her across the room to where her former tormentors found themselves in a compromising position. Then, she opened a window and disappeared as quickly as she had arrived.

Wanda looked at Jayne, and compassion filled her. "You didn't really do anything to me this time, hmmm? But you didn't tell your friends to stop, did you? I'll let you go this time. But don't mess with me again." Jayne nodded, silently. Wanda untied her ankles, then helped her to my feet. "My wrists?" Jayne said. "You let them hang me by my underwear. You'll have to run home like this," Wanda said with a smile, landing a spank on Jayne's backside as she turned to leave.

"Traitor!" Lori yelled, from her position in the stocks at the nude, retreating girl. Wanda turned her attention to Scarlett. Walking up in front of her, she said, "Scarlett, you've been the bane of my existence since I started school...not quite so much as Lori over here, but I'll get to that bitch later. For once, I have the upper hand."

Wanda walked behind her, and considered the exposed bottom, and the muddy, frilly, pink panties pulled down to the thin thighs. First, wedging the panties up her behind, then pulled them back down, this time to her ankles. Then she started slapping her. Scarlett whined, "Stop....stop that!" By the tenth swing or so, tears welled up in her eyes, creating lines down her cheeks in the mud that still covered her face.

Wanda didn't stop. The tavern crowd seemed content to see her get her revenge, or maybe they enjoyed the view. But Wanda smacked that backside a few dozen more times.

Examining the red, swollen butt before her, Wanda smiled, and walked over to the front again. Scarlett's face was red and covered in tears. "I think perhaps you're finished now. And you're really finished if you ever mess with me again. I'll leave it to the tavern crowd to decide when to open the stocks and let you out. For now--"

She turned to face Lori. "Now it's YOUR turn." She snapped the waistband of Lori's white panties. What was it you were making fun of me for? These are white and cotton, even the same cut as mine," she said, pulling them into a vicious wedgie. "At least mine aren't covered in roses!" Lori groaned through the pain of the wedgie.

"Maybe not," said Wanda, pulling the panties down suddenly to knee level. "But..." she said, tugging on the auburn bush she had just exposed, "you made fun of me for not shaving, and you have just as much hair as I do." She punctuated her point by poking Lori in her furry armpit. "You're still a fatass," Lori replied, refusing to let Wanda have the last word in front of the crowd.

"Perhaps," Wanda said, "but at least my ass isn't red and swollen!" With that, she started slapping Lori's backside with enough force to elicit a comical, high-pitched squeal each time she made contact. She spanked Lori harder and longer than she had Scarlett, and Lori tried to hold back her tears, but failed.

Wanda spanked her so hard for so long, that the crowd, who had enjoyed the spectacle up to this time, now felt slightly uncomfortable. Years of pent-up, impotent anger was coming out through the palm of her hand. If Lori ever regretted picking on someone, even for a second, this was the moment. Wanda might have kept it up all day, but she had reached the ends of her endurance. She returned to the front of the stocks, spat in Lori's face, and went home without a word, wrapping the dark cloak around her body to cover up the best she could.

Elsewhere in the city, the leather-clad woman entered a large mansion and knocked at the door. A servant opened it, and she was led to a small room with a lectern in the center. She touched the crystal that stood on it, and a shimmering, shadowy image of a woman appeared.

"Is it done?" The spy nodded, "She's learning to trust us." "Did she have the dagger?" "I assumed the arena guards wouldn't let a convicted criminal walk around the city armed." "Noted. In her current form, she's worth nothing to us. She must trust you; you must train her. She needs to become the symbol her grandmother once was." "I will try, mistress, but she is extremely unfit. And first, she has to _want_ to be trained." "Another experience or two in the arena like her last one, and she'll be pleading for training. And you will be there. Nothing further, for now." "Yes, mistress." The leather-clad woman put her hand on the crystal again, and the image disappeared.