Continuation from part a.

His humps accelerated. The climax relaxed me. A warm spurt of the fluid flooded me and the detachment of the cock let me rest from the burning pain. I turned onto my stomach and lifted my ass so that Daher could serve himself with my asshole. I would have had no trouble staying until the next erection but the agent pulled handcuffs from his coat and ensured that I didn't leave the table. He propped up my ass up with my disheveled clothes and massaged my back from my shoulders to its small. The passion returned to our veins.

I would have had no trouble staying until the next erection, but the agent pulled handcuffs from his coat and ensured that I didn't leave the table. He propped up my ass up with my disheveled clothes and massaged my back from my shoulders to its small. The passion returned to our veins.

Daher stood in front of my face. "Suck it, but only up to the point when it gets hard. Then you'll let me stick it somewhere else."

I obeyed him, gourmetly letting my teeth and lips work his cock to the hardest possible consistency. I licked it a little while he left my mouth. The taste didn't have time to wear off at all and it took hold of me differently. He grabbed my hips and his log penetrated my other orifice, shaking me whole from my anus to my shortest golden hair.

"It's not fair, it's not fair," I said. 

Daher stroked my neck long and hard. "What's not fair, my wild Rapunzel?"

That you could immobilize me so quickly, I thought, but I had to say it more intelligently. "It's not fair that you can do so much to me, and I can do so little to you!" I had to sound like a little girl when I was fucking like a big one.

"Then I should do it as soon as possible!" Daher laughed. He had finished his work, unlocked my bonds, and turned me onto my back. I was wet between my legs again. Daher directed his tongue there. First, he ran me over where I had hair not long ago. Then he feasted below and, in the middle, where the pleasure is greatest. I became a candy for him, one that could not be eaten, and he stimulated me, flooding my whole body with pleasure. I could feel his hands, his muscles, his cock, even though none of it was touching me anymore.

Daher, the FBI agent, could do whatever he wanted with me as a suspect and considered the possibilities. He dressed and left me wondering if I had more serious services to provide scantily-to-nothing clad. True, it took him a while, but he got me dressed.  Together with an even taller colleague, he took me, the wheelchaired rat, to the Tower's IT office, where the agents connected their own devices to the existing computers and the previous employees had to respect their demands, tapping on their keyboards in complete silence, their mouths giving at best a soft sigh and their thinner and fatter bellies pressed against their desks.

My friend pulled me over to a guy whose eyes pointed to the possible builder of the Great Wall of China, but otherwise, I would have sent him to a burrito restaurant. My warm lover whispered a short message in his ear. 

 "Manuel Provecho." He didn't shake my hand, giving me a high five. "My job today doesn't involve anything that isn't classified. I think it's a downright patriotic duty that we both go into virtual reality."

 I put on the sealskin with difficulty. According to medical bulletins, I should be able to control my legs better in VR, so I took it as a godsend.     

 Manuel's virtual reality room was a far cry from the fantasy lands of Zita Shitpiece-Cretine and it didn't play with its function as our teaching programs. The centerpiece of the bleak blackish space (I had no idea where the walls were) could be considered a table with a 3D image monitor and a misty window on which a line of code shone.

"If Princeps is to take direct action against Green and admit your innocence, we need to penetrate his archive and be sure that we have obtained true information."

"How could you get to the false one? Green must store his dirty stuff in some databases, and the FBI must have the best hacker. "

Manuel turned his eyes to the missing ceiling with the look of a thinking but groping nerd. "Me, and other guys from our department got far, but the results of our espionage did not pass the test. Apparently, we can't avoid one Green's artificial intelligence that can redirect and feed us the false intel."

"I've seen some cartels using that," I agreed. "I have a prescription for it. You manage the first step. Warning the AI that you hacked the system. The second step is to lure it in and infect it with the virus."

Manuel shook his head. "If you get a virus in, one of the firewalls will detect it and temporarily shut the whole system down."

"You don't know what the dorks like you have created for my Private Eye office. Segismundo is practically a separate artificial intelligence. It is designed to pretend to be a human hacker to attract the attention of another AI. It pretends to make mistakes that could lead to its detection, but it is just a fake redirection. In the process, the original AI acquires the disinformation, which convinces it that it is someone else. Someone who will show the truth."

"I hope we can find it on the Darknet," Manuel smacked his lips.

 "Not really. We need to hack the remains of my agency."

 The company that owed its existence to me was bound to change since my arrest, and when I saw the terabyte files on wayward wives, I gladly deleted them from my successor, Stanley Huntington (Can private investigators still use pseudonyms?), and I spent twice as much time downloading of the Segismundo. He jumped on our table in the form of a small golden fisherman, throwing his rod at the screen. He didn't speak, but he convinced us that he was a hyperactive virus and needed to be put into action. Manuel guided me through the process of hacking into Green's database, whose folders stared at us from the glass of the window and from the corners of the virtual room. The hacker pointed at the icon of the eyes, winking at him from his screen. "The AI noticed us and is now definitely editing the records," he reported.

I took Segismundo in my hand and drew a gate on the window through which he could enter the system.

"I am logging off and receiving his signal," Manuel told me of his actions. From now on, we haven't been at Green's officially, but we saw everything thanks to Segismundo.

"His code has already penetrated the cores of the artificial intelligence," I read at my station and slammed the table. "We have a problem. The AI is losing awareness of its own personality and tasks, but it does not trust the new program. It bombards Segismundo with questions about the purpose of the two of them and does not give much credence to his answers. If we don't think of something, it will determine its source!"

Manuel raised his eyebrows.  "It might confuse her even more if we gave her a role in a play and convinced her that what is happening around her is real." He pointed to a black square on the map of the Prefect's database. "Here is a game in the confiscated software that was written by the other defendant. " Bold Barry and Saucy Nancy: Vigilantes in the land of the kidnappers".

"That's what the bastard I shared a room with for a long time told me about. I'll write to the AI that her name is Alphonsa and she'll find all her answers there." I winked at Manuel. "Now we have to think of more details and I'll play the game, too."

"It took you until you were twenty-three, but you finally own your life, Miss Turing," I said, patting Alphonsa on the back with the Bold Barry's hand. Her servants didn't have time to bring her new tissues to wipe away her sweet and bitter tears. A pink color returned to her cheeks, contrasting with her blue dress.  "Thank you very much, Detective, for saving my sister and for the will that you have found."

"There's only one thing left for you to do so you don't have to worry about your stepfather. Give me a file of his secrets."

Alphonsa kissed me and went into her room. She came back with green folders, filled to bursting.

"Make him rot in a dungeon so filthy and damp that he will envy my sister!"

"Good job!" the hacker praised me. "Now we have to clean up the scattered toys until Daddy comes back and unbuckles the belt."

I couldn't laugh at that comparison.

"Segismundo has copied and extrapolated the records of the normal state and implanted them in our friend.  An effective equivalent of the loop recording."

"Then check it out."

I wasn't going to pretend it took me long. "You know, in the old days, prisoners had the right to a lawyer and a telephone call. I have already waived my right to remain silent, and my lawyer is the kind the parents of murdered children dream of. If I wanted to call someone, it would be recorded, right?"

"Is this a joke?" Manuel opened the package of the files, but it looked like they had been downloaded with password protection. "We are the FBI under the direct orders from Princeps and are looking for political enemies. All calls from our location are recorded. If you ask Daher politely, he'll arrange an unrecorded call for you and then listen to the recording in person."

"That's what I would do. Can I stay here with you and watch the safe internet?"

Manuel scratched his brow. "Ladies' company refreshes me better than coffee or cola."

Cracking of the encryptions-within-encryptions glued him to the virtual monitor so tightly that I could easily expose meters of my skin and his favorite thing between his legs would remain softer than an expired jelly bean.

That came in handy. I still controlled Segismundo and hooked it up to create a quiet surfing copy of me and cover up my real efforts. I isolated the phone lines and made it so no one's voice would jump to the FBI video library.

When Hugo Damasio received my first call from the Tower, he was afraid of the practices of the secret police, while still spraying a cloud of cool air at the person who wanted to talk to him. I liked the idea of dragging him into it again, only worse, ripped away from his entertainment and work by an unknown phone number. After all, I introduce myself to him right away, so I can be primitively happy that I come to him as the bogeyman.

"Margot, is that you? Well, yes, sure, you're better than a real woman! Wow! You taste amazing, but I always wondered what you sounded like! I mean, I wanted to know more about you, but you're not with me to show me yet. Speak!"  

"Hugo, this is Stacey Hamilton. Again. Who did you think I was?"

"What, you are Margot, woman, who I'm looking at on the bottle of my youth elixir. Some say it's half full, others it's half empty, I say that half is in my stomach where it was always supposed to burn!" 

 "Hugo, Princess Towers hasn't closed their business!"

"I don't know if I should care about Princess Towers. They say the women kill men in there!"

"You are on good terms with Olsson and his faction. Do you know what the Rear Riders are up to?"

Damasio drank something. "Why should I follow politics? After all, we have amazing television entertainment. He married my sister, too. Striptease of the year! College of bare basics"

  "What are they doing?"

"The Rear Riders are doing what all politicians do. They prattle. They would like to attack Green and Cao, but even if the Princeps allowed them, Romanos and the military would oppose them, they want justice. Whoever gives them that will get their military equipment."

I let him go to his delirium. Politics was a bit like the adventure game I had just finished. Talk to someone, find the source of the problem, and combine some items.

But, the opportunity to help Daher and his hacker was perhaps beneficial in a way that brought me extra satisfaction. Men offered me a chance to be useful, and I fulfilled my task. I was reminded of who I was serving, and it filled me with pride and a sense of responsibility. Two hours later, Daher ordered me back to the interrogation room.

"Princeps' office has confirmed the authenticity of Green's files, which he intended to blackmail his fellows with," the agent said. "I have to thank you for everything you have done for me. First with your body and then with your head."

"I wonder exactly how Princeps verified that. It didn't take very long."

Daher laughed, silently. "Well, the best way to do that, of course, is to compare it with your blackmail papers. I am sure Princeps has many. But he doesn't have as many intelligent women as you are. A video came from Washington, confirming your alibi. The DNA samples point to fraud, but we are not yet ready to move against the Prefect. You and your lawyer – and Principal Arnolph, for that matter, given her tendency to be bold – will come up with a new story to match."

"Go on," I said. "Write my fate for me."

Daher wiped the sweat from his brow. "The instructions of the Princeps are quite vague in a way one wouldn't expect. The judge will accept the new evidence and take the position dictated to him." The agent sighed, and I thought I heard frustration and helplessness. "From all this, it's understandable that Princeps intends to make exact demands on Arnolph known in a little more transparent, and transparent means that many fellows will hear about it and she won't have no choice but to obey. Making this special Principal bow her head to the male authorities is in his utmost interest. This is beyond my or your control. The first order of business is to get your lawyer involved."

"Why is that an issue?"

"Princeps doesn't want to make direct contact with him. He was a poor student, both academically and ideologically. Someone assigned him to you because the Department of Justice considered it one of those quick cases, and he collects points so that his relatives can emigrate. We don't want him to know for sure where he is taking orders from. He's afraid of making rash decisions, but it might be a good idea to make the whole thing more pleasant for him."

"I know where you're going with this," I interrupted him unkindly. "There's always an extra job for a woman."

It took another day before they gave me a full list of evidence, so the time until the next trial was dangerously short, but at least I could walk without any problems. I formally requested a meeting with the defense attorney. They told me that he was constantly doing crossword puzzles in an abandoned PE study and would come back when he felt rested. Angrily, I asked to be escorted and defied the agent's authority by sneaking into the room alone.

"How come you don't have a guard?" the surprised lawyer noticed, bent over the magazine on the table.

"Call me by my name! I enter unaccompanied because I am innocent, I can prove it and you will show it to the judge!" I threw the paper on the table. Some impression might have moved him, but then he returned to his previous position.

"Thank you, Stacey. I'm Mark. Okay, maybe you're innocent, but someone committed the murder. Maybe someone influential. Maybe someone with a cousin on the force. When I'm working on a case, I'd be happy if someone weaker took the brunt."

"You're quite a dummy, aren't you?" I told him the shocking revelation. "What would your mother say if she saw how you defend me?"

Mark filled in another box in the crossword puzzle. "I had to kiss my law professors’ pants for the possibility of starting my legal career with a hot topic where I don't have to do anything at all."

I took the magazine from him and threw it in the bin with my strengthened arm.

The defense lawyer folded his hands in his lap. "If you could, you would switch places with me, but at this moment every man, woman, and child is in the same situation. One wrong step and we lose the last remnants of freedom. Perhaps I have done it with these words."

I showed him my teeth in a nice way. "Little boy, you need to find out what a powerful protector is behind this offer and what bribe this sexy beauty is willing to give you."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I'm tired of this demanding society. I don't feel like taking sexual favors."

 No is not the answer.

"Then I'll take something and maybe you'll enjoy it too, little boy. I will nurse you in a way your mother would never dare to."

I pursed my lips. Mark didn't offer his but he didn't flinch either. I bestowed a short kiss upon him, one that ended with a long bite on his lip. Mark yelped and tried to pull away, but I only allowed him to do so when my tooth had got enough under the red cuticle of his lips. I only let go when I thought it was appropriate and pulled my mamma's boy head to whisper in his ear: "Did you like seeing my ass during the trial? I have other, interesting things that would go to bare basics..."

I straightened up, took my shoes off, and slowly removed my black stockings.

"Lick my feet properly and I'll show you my breasts!"

I lifted my feet a little and exercised my fingers. Mark's reaction almost knocked me over. 

"Can I touch them then?"

"If you do it as a man enough," I instructed him vaguely.

I didn't wait for anything and lifted my feet. Mark probably wanted to synchronize with me. He took off his pants, folded them politely in his chair, and got down on his knees. I could see that something was happening under his shorts.

With the devotion of a true knight, he sucked small toes at first but didn't wait long before his sensual attention moved to my thumb. The rough surface of his tongue, accompanied by the edges of his teeth, loosened my skin and muscles. He sent excitement through them, up to my playful calf, my sensitive thigh, and finally even higher... And it is clear where.

 I was about to kick him away and offer him the other leg when he bit me hard between the big toe and the rest of the toes. I staggered. He probably owed me that. Or did I owe him? Damn it, why was it getting into my brain, when my breasts were at stake here?

I got rid of my coat. "Silly me, I forgot my bra today!" I squirmed so that Mark could see the monstrous balls, pointing out the affinity between the words "tits" and "Titanic".

" I've found a couple of first-class pieces of evidence!" the lawyer confirmed. He threw his shirt off and took my nipple in his mouth.

"You're really mom's darling. And do you know what mothers do to spoiled little boys?"

 I pulled down his boxer shorts a little, stretched my fingers, and convinced his ass of the hardness of my palm. I didn't spare him, I think the pain motivated him.

 Just come, come, come!

Of course, fucking won't solve everything in life, but it will make it much easier and more enjoyable, especially if we approach it naturally and without inhibition. Things are complicated by people like the judge and the prosecutor, taking the sixteenth minutes of their consultation.

The sight of Green's henchman's face was worth the trouble, but after all this time I was beginning to feel insecure. At that moment, Mark managed to lose the energy with which he had demanded my release before the break. He didn't even pull out any magazine anymore and my thigh became his means of relaxation. I didn't blame him. The other participants – the audience of my program – at best pretended to be surprised by the new developments. The secret discussion made them uneasy, as it suited the powerful ones. The judge and the prosecutor, returning to the court, looked almost as satisfied. "You have the floor," His Honor encouraged the Prefect's mediator.

"It looks like we've heard two accounts told and neither of them is entirely true," the prosecutor thundered. "Miss Hamilton could not have committed the murder described, but the allegation of Miss Vandraud's guilt is still unsubstantiated speculation and can be the subject of further investigation. I would like to highlight the fact that this act bears the clear signature of the self-appointed women's organizations that have sprung up here due to the lack of basic discipline. " He eyed Arnolph, venomously. " It needs time, but not too long. After the murder is explained, we must secure justice for another innocent soul, and see to it that we can speak of the rule of law here with a clear conscience."

"I agree," the judge replied. "Once again, we will analyze the most recently added testimony. The hearing will reconvene in three hours."

Gavel broke up the usual seating arrangement and we formed islands of our clearly defined affinity. I liked that Arnolph and Agatha sat with me on the other side. 

Yet none of us smiled.

"Princeps won't sleep until Shildmaidens is convicted," I lamented. "One day he will hold us, the next he will betray us."

"He needs to stabilize his position," Arnolph hissed. "Listen to this!" She took us to the tennis official's chair, pulled a cell phone from her pocket, and played the video. The Cao guy was talking on it.

"I ask how we could have gotten into such an irrational situation?" he shouted to the assembled journalists. "How could it happen that we lost control of one Princess Tower and allowed it to shake an entire nation? Let me tell you! Too many women's rights have remained in our society!"

Arnolph stopped it. In my mind, I could hear a whole pack of wolves howling from every direction.

Agatha grabbed my and Mark's hand. "If one Shieldmaiden is disgraced, perhaps the others will survive." She squeezed our hands and for the first time since I knew her, I felt a human in that body.

I appeared at the third hearing. It was supposed to clear me of the charges, and it felt like a pair of massive cogwheels, crushing my conscience forever.

 "Am I to understand that the defense has a new witness?" Judge Zimmerman asked. 

 "Yes, Your Honor," confirmed Mark. "We would like to call Agatha Cabrera, known insurgent, and member of the Shieldmaidens."

Agatha swallowed loudly twice on the witness stand. "I admit that I organized a mission to kidnap Daniel Mayson. During this operation, I was disguised in a warden's uniform. My plan was thwarted by a group led by Shawn Cruz. I tried to escape and later ask Principal Arnolph for full asylum. I ran into one enforcer, from whom I took paralyzing poison and a gun. I paralyzed him and Shawn Cruz tried to stop me again. Unfortunately, I tried to stay free, and during the argument with him, I fired it impulsively and... I regret it!" She gulped, unable to say another word. Even the chair beneath her bottom squirmed and tilted.

"The circumstances of the killing of Mr. Cruz in light of the evidentiary material are consistent with Mrs Cabrera's testimony, Your Honor," said Mark.

"I think her confession makes it possible to resolve the case to everyone's satisfaction," the judge agreed. "Mrs. Cabrera may not have wanted to murder Mr. Cruz, but she has to pay for it. She will be corporally punished, she will be sterilized and she will lose her right to live among the decent citizens of the FPA."

The reading of the sentence could not be described as very formal. Agatha didn't comment on a single word from Zimmerman's speech. She only repeated: "I regret it, I regret it-"

 Didn't she mean that she regretted taking the blame?

 The first part of the sentence was to be carried out that evening. A crowd of people from Arnolph, Prefect, and Princeps gathered in a dungeon with a stage. We enjoyed the attention of the guests in the places of honor – me, the Principal, Mark, and the prosecutor. Only Arnolph refused the chair. In the center of the stage stood the executioner, a small, but seemingly sympathetic policeman with two chins and a cap with the symbol of the red hood. On occasion, he touched the white leather shackles hanging from the ceiling above him, but he took more pleasure in lightly kicking the rack, on which a whip was ready to carry out the first part of the sentence. Agatha had to reckon with the fact that this was a much more painful instrument than what we encountered in the lessons.

 It was enough for the last invited man to fill the empty place and the enforcers brought in the woman destined for a painful fate. Agatha wore nothing but a Lovemaking outfit and massive handcuffs that were only removed for a quick change of material.

"Undress completely, condemned one," the executioner ordered. Agatha began to unzip the individual pieces of her Lovemaking outfit. It didn't look seductive, but a few gentlemen on the stage whistled after all. 

"Stand in a circle."

The naked Agatha obeyed again at first but then turned to the stand with the whip. Fear dried her face. Her legs stopped except for a slight tremor.

The executioner repeated his order. Agatha turned to her clothes.

The executor of justice did not intend to repeat himself, again. He slapped her and pulled her hand to the spot under the handcuffs. Agatha rubbed her face, sobbing, but the strong hands trapped both her wrists in white leather circles.

I didn't know what I was more afraid of. Whether it was what awaited Agatha, if she snapps, or, whether it would happen to me. 

The executioner took the whip from the pedestal and symbolically cracked it in front of the Brotherhood's symbol. He turned to Agatha's rear, which would soon be marked.

The convict will be punished on five body parts with twenty-four lashes." Arnolph announced. "Proceed in the name of the law."

The executioner stepped to Agatha's side, thought about the best angle of the stroke, and let the black rope swing in the air.

SWISH!

Agatha howled for a long time, her back monstrously adorned with a bloody welt. The executioner looked closer and gave her a second stroke.

 "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

A new welt intersected the previous one, and in a similar spirit, the executioner now alternated the steps of his work. The third stroke affected the undamaged skin again, and the fourth crossed the previous two, lengthening the fiery agony. The fifth almost made a star image of all the previous ones, and Agatha exploded, screaming after the stroke.

I was glad I couldn't see inside her head, especially what she thought of me. 

The executioner spoke. "Since the lady wasn't satisfied with ordinary ass-slappings, her hiney must now know something sharper."

As soon as he said that, the black tongue of the whip tasted the Mexican full cheeks. The former prostitute tried to kick her tormentor, but he retaliated with even greater humiliation. He gave her a clout round her ear and held her by the hair. It is true, however, that the second stroke on the butt did not come out as strong as he probably imagined, due to a lack of momentum, so he simply found a place where her leg could not reach, while his whip covered the distance and began to connect the welts, inseparable like five friends.

Although it was an art in itself to hit them due to all the twists and turns, the executioner managed to bind Agatha's legs just above her ankles with another stroke. Only then did he go back up and mark her thighs, not far from the bloody mush on her ass. The attempt to hit her calves was only partially successful, drawing blood on the left one alone.

The shaking bloodied back, buttocks, and legs of Agatha now obscured my view of the executioner on the other side, enjoying other parts. "Good thing we can fix your breasts," he smacked. "It would be a shame for the guys who want to have their way with you."

"AARGGHHH!"

"AAARGHFMADREDIOS!"

The whip dug into her breasts, left, right, and center. Her tits were flying around despite their weight and I was afraid that one of her nipples would fly off. It didn't happen, which couldn't be said about the splashes of sweat and blood all around.

I counted each horrible stroke. Agatha had already received eighteen. She still had six to go, and according to the executioner's pause, it was clear that she would no longer receive them on her breasts, but on the most sensitive spot. I was afraid that she would not survive.

The executioner had two lower racks pulled, his henchmen placed Agatha's legs on them, and the muscleman gained clear access to her pussy. The whip whistled for the nineteenth time, and Agatha began to beg for mercy. It didn't suit her cynical voice, and during the second stroke the "please" had turned to "pleaaaaahhhhsseeeeee". From the third stroke onwards, I saw drops of blood dripping from her lap. I preferred to look at my hands and curl my fingers with each remaining stroke.

The executioner let Agatha's legs be released, but not her arms. 

"Finally, the salting is in order," Arnolph said in a colorless voice. "Ms. Hamilton, stand up."

I got up, telling myself that I didn't know why. I didn't look at Agatha's writhing body, it wasn't possible, they could never ask me to participate in this!

Arnolph looked at the executioner, and he nodded. The Principal picked up a tall bottle with an orange label and a black picture of a salt shaker from the table.

"This woman was willing to pass off her crime as yours. You will see to it that this salting will make her howl for the rest of her life at the slightest thought of breaking the law."

Salting. I read about it in history books. To prevent the punished black slaves from getting away with "mere" whipping, their masters rubbed a mixture of the hottest things they could find into their wounds. Pepper juice, turpentine, kerosene.

Not all of them were still alive at the end.

 I am a woman of the law. Maybe I used it for money, but I'm still a woman of the law!

But I didn't kill Shawn either.

I couldn't hesitate. I took over the mixture. Hopefully, it won't be so bad. I uncorked the bottle and didn't halt until I had Agatha's bloody back within arm's reach. Her crying still hasn't stopped.

"Be a brave girl," I whispered, spilling most of the stinky contents onto a spot that didn't seem like it should be so sensitive. The mixture glistened between the flowing bloody lines.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!

 AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!"

Agatha was convulsing wildly, her legs swinging wide. I pulled her up and pretended to keep pouring it on her, but most of the rest ran down to the floor. I put my hand on Agatha's cheek, trying to calm her down.

Her teeth almost bit off my index finger off, so I instinctively flinched back. I was relieved because Agatha stopped screaming immediately. Her unconscious head was hanging along her outstretched right arm.

"Take her to the infirmary," Arnolph ordered. "They will remove her genes from any future children of our country. After that, she will be ready for deportation."

Immediately afterward I went through two phases and their course was clear to me I couldn't stop thinking about Agatha, and those thoughts were taking control of my legs away. I'd give anything for the wheelchair that people used to push me at their whim.

Pity for the miserable woman inevitably led to reflection on those who had caused her suffering, and I reminded myself what it was like to be a pissed-off bitch with the capacity to loathe and destroy!

The clearing of my name was not accompanied by consideration or apology. I had learning and teaching to do. In PE, I ordered the class to play dodgeball, because I hated everyone. I was interested in how Claudia and Montserrat would handle the ball. They were average, but sometimes they moved so slowly that it seemed credible when I invited them to the sports implements room for a "reprimand".

"Listen, you cows," I said to them uncompromisingly. "You know who I am and that I didn't take this position willingly. I order you to accept me as a member of the Shieldmaidens. If you don't do that and tell me what you're up to, I'll be charged with murder again, this time justifiably, and double one!"

Claudia didn't let herself be fazed. "We wanted to offer it to you, but we didn't think you'd be interested. We... We are preparing something. We'll only accept you if you don't mind Arnolph is our enemy, no less than Green."

"You want to attack Arnolph? Green is already out of the game, I can tell you, but what are you going to do against her?"

She told me.

I laughed with the cruel laugh of the goddess Nemesis.

"I'll adjust your plan. And we'll hurt Alexander Cao."