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considered Tasha's advice that she should take a nice nap.
'Take a nice nap?' Not frickin' likely! Effie
tugged on her wrist cuffs, then squirmed and fought all of
her restraints, just for added emphasis. The only result
was a little leather-on-leather creaking. Everything
So, here she was:
And oh-by-the-way, an
obedience collar was locked around her neck, purportedly ready
to zap her if she tried to escape through any doors or
windows. She'd already confirmed that it zapped her
if she tried to yell... or even engage in "normal" gagged
- Abducted and
spirited away to an undisclosed location tentatively labeled
- Flat on her back
and strapped to a gynecological examining table.
- Her tongue freshly
pierced and violated with a dumbbell-post.
- Her nipples
freshly pierced and violated with rings!
- The rest of her not
pierced and/or violated... yet.
- Tape-gagged (with
- Head clamped and
strapped to the table and completely immobilized.
- A cloth draped
over her face and the lights turned off.
And she wasn't alone. Lady Jo Gladburn was along for the
ride! More precisely, as Lady Jo had been abducted six
months earlier and Effie had stumbled into this trap trying to
find out what happened to her, Effie was along for Lady Jo's
ride. At the moment Her ladyship was elsewhere on the
premises, supposedly getting her exercise. Also,
supposedly there was a "herd" of other "ponies," also elsewhere
on the premises. Effie assumed she'd meet them sooner or
later... and then... would help them escape as well, along with
Lady Jo and herself.
And then, Kyler Drāgon would receive the justice she so richly
deserved and Effie would bask in world acclaim, give interviews
on all the big talk shows, write a bestselling book, and rake in
the dough. Piece of cake. All I have to
do is escape.
In any case... Effie certainly wasn't going to take a
nap. That was for damn sure. Maybe she'd
close her eyes, relax, and further organize her thoughts, but
take a nap? Hah!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ z z z z z z z ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
opened her eyes and blinked. The lights were back on and
someone had whisked the jade-green cloth off her gagged face.
Not to Effie's surprise, the someone in question was Tasha, the
athletic, attractive, tongue and nipple piercing brunette
handler with the pixie cut. She was still wearing the same
black riding boots, gray riding pants, and cadet-blue
tank-top. There was no sign of The Dragon Lady, in or out
of her riding costume.
Smiling brightly, Tasha leaned close. "Hey there, Sleepy
Eyes," she purred.
Bite me! Effie silently fumed, staring laser beams at her
grinning handler. The tall, muscular Tasha didn't oblige
by bursting into flames, but she did begin unbuckling Effie's
many restraints. That was good. Probably.
"I've reset your collar from 'hush-mode' to
'inside-voice-mode,'" Tasha announced as she worked her way
around the table, releasing buckle after buckle. "Be a
good little pony and your collar will leave you alone. You
should still avoid doors and windows, of course, but you'll be
able to converse with your fellow ponies." Her smile
broadened. "When you aren't gagged, of course."
Of course... asshole, Effie fumed. She was angry
with herself that she hadn't noticed the collar was "off" when
she woke up and mewled through her gag. I need to up
my game if we're going to escape, she realized, and we
are going to escape... just not right now.
Meanwhile, with the exception of Effie's padded head-vice and
the forehead strap, Tasha had finished releasing all the
restraints. She eased Effie's feet and legs from the
table's stirrups and troughs, leaving her legs and bare feet
dangling off the end of the table. Next, she released the
clamps locking the stirrup-trough assemblies in place and folded
them to either side and under the table and out of the
way. She then raised a padded section of table under
Effie's legs and locked it in place. Finally, she lowered
the upper section of the table. The head-vice was still
attached, of course, so Effie's gagged head went along for the
ride. The former table/lounge-chair was now just a
full-length, lightly padded, horizontal table (with a head-vice)
with Effie lying flat on her back.
Tasha smiled down at Effie. "I know what you're thinking,"
As soon as you release this damn head-clamp I'm going to kick
your butt? Effie glowered.
"As soon as I release your head you're going to scamper away,"
"Remember." Tasha pulled her smartphone from her pocket
and waved it for Effie's benefit. "Naughty ponies who try
to escape get zapped for their trouble."
There is that, Effie sullenly agreed. This damn
collar is putting a serious damper on my courageous-unflappable-reporter
Tasha pocketed her phone, then stepped to the head of the table
and released the strap across Effie's forehead... loosened
padded clamps of the head-vice... then folded that assembly
back and down. As far as Effie could tell, like the
stirrup-trough assemblies, it also snapped in place
under the table and out of the way.
"Roll onto your tummy and rest your head on your arms," Tasha
Yeah, sure, why not? Effie fumed as she rolled over and
complied. Also, bite me! Effie figured she
might as well continue being an "obedient pony." With a
pony-zapping-collar locked around her neck, she had no
choice—and she was getting really tired of reality
rubbing it in her face.
Effie was now lying on her stomach and resting the right side of
her gagged face on her folded arms, as instructed. And she
was still naked, of course (not counting her pony-collar and
tape-gag). Her nipples had complained, briefly, as her
boobs settled into the padding and flattened out, but it had
been only a barely noticeable twinge. Maybe that
ointment she smeared on my nipples has a numbing agent,
Meanwhile, Tasha had strolled to one of the steel cabinets and
returned with a folded towel and a plastic pump-bottle full of
some sort of white goop. She dispensed a dollop onto her
hands, rubbed them together, and proceeded to give Effie a long,
deep, full body massage from shoulders to toes, rolling Effie's
limp body and manipulating her limbs as required to expedite the
process... and her hands were magic... and the lotion
(the stuff in the bottle) smelled like... cedar and
Effie decided to continue putting her escape on hold. Why?
Effie resolved to give
Tasha about an hour before resuming her Righteous
Resistance, but no more! One hour! Not one
aforementioned magic hands. Also...
- The massage felt goooood,
just what her sore body needed after being abducted, tied
up, transported, etc., etc.
- Granted, her
masseuse was a tongue-and-nipple-piercing glamorous gorilla,
but you take what you can get, right?
Tasha was very thorough... kneading and massaging Effie
entire body from head to toe, front and back... not
counting her collared neck, tape-gagged mouth, or
band-aid-covered tits. And it was what Effie believed was
called a Deep Muscle Massage. Obviously, in addition to
her body-piercing and pony-handling expertise, Tasha was a
And then... it was over... something Effie only realized when
Tasha rolled her over onto her boobs and tummy, produced a
length of black cord from somewhere, pulled her arms behind her
back, and tied her wrists together with her hands
palm-to-palm! Unfortunately, the binding was more-or-less
over before Effie realized something other than another round of
back massage was happening. Her belated resistance was
"Mrrr!" Effie complained as Tasha added tight, cinched loops of
cord around her hands and thumbs and tied the final knots.
"Hush, pony," Tasha chuckled, then used a second length of cord
to tie Effie's elbows together! She then grabbed Effie and
"helped" her hop off the table.
Effie rolled her shoulders and tested her new bonds, staring
daggers at Tasha as the grinning handler used the towel to clean
her hands. The cords held. Her elbows weren't happy,
but somewhat to her surprise, she wasn't in actual pain... at
"Once I get to know you better," Tasha stated, "and you get more
of a chance to learn you have zero control over
anything that happens around here, it won't be necessary to tie
you up for a simple change of venue." She winked and her
smile took a coy twist. "Unless I'm in a kinky mood, of
Asshole! Effie fumed.
Tasha, stepped close, took a firm grip on Effie's ponytail, and
led her from the... Piercing Chamber? Effie decided not
to dignify the space with an official designation.
Also, she noted for the record that being led around by the hair
was just as humiliating as being led around at the end of a
leash... not that she'd ever been led around at the end of a
leash... yet. Anyway... Ponytail clutching is
humiliating. Who knew?
The door of the chamber-unworthy-of-a-name led to a hallway with
the same exposed framing and horizontal barn-board
paneling. Light shone down from periodic rustic fixtures
and modern light-tunnels. Both sides of the corridor were
punctuated by two different kinds of doors, all hefty and all
closed. They were:
The two-part doors
strongly reminded Effie of horse stalls. More accurately,
they reminded her of horse stalls in the high-security section
of an equine prison. Weird. Of course, given
all this talk about "ponies," she supposed high-security stalls
weren't all that unexpected.
single-panel doors with conventional round doorknobs and
- Two-panel Dutch
doors with cipher-locks, strap hinges, and eye-level covered
view-ports in the upper panels.
They passed a single-panel door with a neatly painted sign that
read Tack Room One... followed by a door with the sign Tack
Room Two. They continued down the hallway to yet
another single-panel door; however, like the horse-prison-stall
doors but unlike the other single-panel doors, this one
had a cipher-lock and a covered view-port.
Effie watched closely (in a casual, totally disinterested
sort of way), as Tasha entered a five digit code in the lock:
2-7-8-6-7. (Not that Effie instantly memorized it or
anything.) And then, Tasha opened the door.
The space beyond was—Effie blinked in mild surprise—a cross
between a large and spartan screened porch, a covered zoo cage,
and a gazebo. The floor was smooth concrete, like all of
the other floors Effie's bare feet had encountered at The Ranch
so far. The floor-plan was in the shape of an elongated
capital "D" with two straight walls projecting from the main
building and bridged by a semi-circular arc. A hefty,
10-12 inch diameter, vertical wooden post in the center of the
space anchored the rafters and helped support the roof.
All the walls were open, meaning were composed of taut,
stretched, floor-to-ceiling panels of window screen.
However, in front of the screens (on Effie's side) there were
also hefty, vertical iron bars, each roughly an inch in diameter
and set about six inches apart. The screen panels would
keep flies and mosquitoes out. The bars would keep
human-size occupants in. On the spot, Effie
decided to christen the space The Gazebo Cage.
Still clutching Effie's ponytail, Tasha led her naked, bound,
and gagged prisoner into the cage and towards the central
post. It was then that Effie noticed the long steel chain
dangling from a steel ring set in the post up near the rafters
and dangling down to pool on the floor. Tasha stooped,
retrieved the terminal link, and used a curiously shaped padlock
with a hasp at both ends to secure the chain to the front ring
of Effie's collar.
"Good pony," Tasha purred, planted a kiss on Effie's forehead,
then spun on her booted heels, strolled back through the Gazebo
Cage door, and closed it behind her. Effie heard the lock
engage with an audible click.
Naked, bound, gagged, and chained by her pony-collar, Effie
stared at the closed portal. So... I'm to wait here?
Effie rolled her shoulders and stretched her collared neck
(which caused her new chain to rattle quietly). The
concrete floor was bare, other than a little sand and grit she
could feel under her bare feet. No mattress? she
mentally complained. No cushion? Not
even a pile of straw? Aren't ponies supposed to get
straw? Those are the rules, right?
Effie estimated the length of her chain, just for something to
do. It didn't look long enough to reach either the door or
the bars, but she figured she might as well give it a try.
As she padded towards the door, the chain rattled and slithered
across the concrete, lifted into the air, and let Effie know its
full weight. The chain stopped her four or five feet from
the door. Even if her hands (and elbows) hadn't been tied,
the door would be out of reach. Of course, she might be
close enough to balance on one foot and touch the wood with the
toes of the other. That would have the virtue of
displaying Effie's balletic grace, but would also be
pointless. She reversed course and padded (and rattled) in
the opposite direction. The curved arc of the bars was
just as far out of her hypothetical reach. Geometry
can be a harsh mistress, Effie mused.
Next on Effie's agenda was an assessment of the world beyond
the iron bars and screen panels.
It was a warm, sunny day at The Ranch. A line of massive,
purple mountains partially obscured by haze marched across the
distant horizon. A jumble of forested hills were closer,
and the immediate area was very rural, farm-like, and surrounded
by trees. A lush, green, mowed lawn stretched right to the
edge of the gravel splash-zone surrounding the main building and
Effie's Gazebo Cage extension.
Off to Effie's right she noted the building had a row of
conventional windows, mostly small and set high in the
wall. Some had iron bars. Beyond the building and
several yards distant she saw part of what was probably a
different building, and it was decidedly barn-like. She
also noted a stretch of what was either a hiking trail or bridal
path. It crossed the lawn, turned in front of the gazebo,
and gradually disappeared into the treeline. Oaks,
maples, and pine trees. Maybe. Effie wasn't
sure of the tree species. She was mostly an urban sort of
So... where the hell am I? Somewhere in the West?
The mountains were probably part of the Rockies. They were
tall and craggy and she was reasonably sure there was a little
snow on their slopes and peaks. But on which side of
the border? This was important because Effie needed
to know who she should expect to burst in at any moment and
rescue Lady Jo, the herd, herself, and drag The Dragon Lady and
Tasha away in handcuffs. Would it be the Mounties or the
There was no way Effie could be sure—after all, she could be in
central China for all she knew—but The Dragon Lady was
American, so logic suggested "The Ranch" was somewhere in the
Western United States. Effie continued her survey of what
she could see beyond the bars... while she waited for the FBI to
get their act together.
The lawn and treeline continued, and the left side of the
building was similar to the right in that there were more
windows, barred and not barred. And just beyond the corner
was a curved section of another trail, similar to the more
distant trail or bridal path on the right.
Intending to pad back to the post (dragging her chain with her),
sit on the floor, and rest her back and bound arms against the
hard wood and get "comfortable," Effie turned her back to the
bars and was about to take her first barefoot step... when she
heard a quiet, musical tinkling sound, something like a distant
set of wind chimes, and at the same time caught a flash of
movement from the corner of her right eye. She turned in
that direction and both eyes widened in surprise. What
Lady Jo had stepped into view, walking (clomping, actually) at a
brisk pace on the curved path! And Her Ladyship's curious
tan-lines were now explained. She was wearing a tight,
black leather one-piece with shoulder-straps, a narrow waist,
and a thong-like and very French-cut bottom that
exposed her hips. And the ensemble left her breasts,
rings, and jingling bells totally exposed!
Actually, Effie realized, Jo's outfit might or might not be one
piece. It might very well be separate pieces:
panties, corset, and support bra. However, everything was
quite obviously part of one system, with straps and buckles
linking everything together. Jo's arms were folded behind
her back and strapped in a "U"-shaped binder, which in turn was
strapped to the back of the corset and bra sections.
A harness or bridle caged her head and anchored a rubber bit in
her mouth. It had blinders on either side, to limit her
peripheral vision, and her sleek brown ponytail swung and swayed
behind her leather-caged head as she walked.
Also, Jo was wearing a curious pair of knee-boots that laced up
the front. They seemed to be keeping Jo up on her toes,
like a pair of high-heels, only the boots had no
heels. Also, the soles were large and
horseshoe-shaped! Irony, what a concept!
And oh-by-the-way, in addition to her conventional, cranial
ponytail Jo had a second ponytail attached to the bottom of her
ensemble, projecting from the base of her spine. It was a
literal and artificial ponytail and swung and swayed in
perfect rhythm with Jo's upper ponytail (as well as her
swinging, swaying, and tinkling tit-bells). Effie knew the
lower tail was fake because she'd seen Her Ladyship 95% naked in
what she'd decided not to call the Piercing Chamber,
and Jo hadn't had a lower tail then. Also, everyone knows
British Peers of the Realm don't have tails. They have
rumps, but not tails.
Leather reins attached to either side of Jo's bit stretched up
to the end of a horizontal steel bar slowly rotating
overhead. Obviously (Effie reasoned), Jo-the-pony was at
the mercy of a conventional equine exercise machine, a motor
driven, slowly turning horizontal bar spinning atop a vertical
post. Tethered to such a device, the exercising horse (or
pony) had no choice but to walk in response to the tug on her
bit, which Effie assumed was unpleasant... meaning the
tug. She'd worn a metal medical-clamp-bit-gag back in the
Not Piercing Chamber, but not a bridle and bit like whatever was
caging Lady Jo's head and cleaving her mouth.
The end of the overhead bar rotated out of Effie's sight...
soon followed by Her Ladyship. Wow! This
'pony crap' is... real! Kyler Drāgon really
is running a stable for naked women being forced to
role-play as human ponies... like me.
Seconds later, the end of the horizontal cross-beam without an
attached pony (human or otherwise) slowly swung into view...
then slowly rotated out of view.
More seconds passed... and once again Jo-the-pony clomped into
Effie noted that all of Jo's tack was gleaming black leather
with brushed steel hardware, and everything fit her like the
proverbial glove. In another minor detail, the panties
section of the bottom was split, meaning it parted to reveal Her
Ladyship's labia. And in the rear, it didn't cleave her
butt-cheeks with a single thong-like strap, but was also divided
and looped around her upper thighs on either side. Jo's
butt was completely exposed and "free." Finally, part of
the end of her lower (fake) ponytail brushed the backs of her
thighs as it swayed.
I wonder if it tickles? Effie thought, watching Lady Jo's
smooth, tan churning butt and thighs as she stomped out of sight
again. It looks like it might tickle... but
she's probably used to it by now. Effie knew there
was an excellent chance she'd eventually find out if the ends of
a swinging ponytail did, in fact, tickle the back of one's
thighs, and she wasn't looking forward to the prospect.
Mesmerized, Effie watched Jo-the-pony appear and disappear for
several cycles... during which she added another detail to her
observations: Her Ladyship was glowing. In fact, Jo
was sweating like a horse. More irony, Effie
sighed. No, wait, Effie's trained journalist mind
objected, horse, pony, and other legitimate equine
references applied to humans role-playing as 'ponies' are
congruous, not incongruous, so it's not really irony... but it
may be ironi-cal. Sardonic?
Mordacious? I'll have to think about it.
Having learned all she could learn (or cared to learn) from
periodically watching Jo's equine humiliation as she clomped
around in a circle. Effie heaved a gagged sign, dragged
her chain back to the post, and executed her plan to get
comfortable by sitting on the hard concrete floor and resting
her bound arms and back against the hard wood. She then
heaved another sigh. Effie wasn't comfortable, and
it sucked. Really? No straw? That's
Suddenly, Effie heard the sound of the Gazebo Cage door being
unlocked and turned to see who was about to enter her luxurious
cell-with-a-view (but no straw).
The door swung
open and a petite redhead padded into the Gazebo Cage.
She was completely naked, except for a black leather pony-collar
identical to Effie's (and Jo's), and she was tiny and adorable,
with a winning smile, flashing green eyes, and ginger locks
pulled back in a ginger ponytail. And the irony of
thinking of the naked newcomer as "tiny" and "adorable" wasn't
lost on Effie, who had struggled under the burden of the twin
stigmas of diminutive stature and excessive cuteness for her
entire life; but in the case of the redhead, she had no
choice. The naked ginger was no taller that 5' 2" and was
as cute as the proverbial and long-suffering bug.
Effie continued her assessment as the redhead padded
forward. She had the same peculiar but now explained
tan-lines she'd first noted on Lady Jo, only in the case of the
redhead, they were freckle-lines and not tan-lines.
She—the tiny, adorable redhead in question—was a natural redhead,
as confirmed by:
Also, The redhead was
physically fit in the same way Jo-the-pony was physically fit,
with the same low body fat, defined muscles, sculpted abdomen,
and narrow waist. And like Jo, she had unarguably feminine
curves and not exactly generous but unarguably delightful
breasts. The nipples of the breasts in question were ringed, by
the way, but not belled. Anyway, the redhead was fit.
- Ginger hair
(including a neatly trimmed ginger pubic bush);
- Fair, pale,
peachy-pink skin where the sun didn't shine;
- An abundance of
freckles where the sun did shine.
Obviously, Effie reasoned, I'm meeting my first
member of "the herd."
The redhead was carrying a picnic basket (which Effie's stomach
noted with keen interest), and smiling broadly (and cutely).
Right behind the ginger cutie came Tasha-the-handler, still
wearing the same black boots, gray riding pants, and cadet-blue
tank. She was carrying what appeared to be a neatly
rolled, oversized, thin, yoga-style mat of dense rubber foam in
a soothing shade of sage-green. "Up," she ordered as she
approached Effie and her post/backrest.
Effie decided the prospect of receiving a mat to sit on
outweighed the humiliation of continuing her craven obedience
and rattled to her feet. (The threat of her pony-collar
remained a contributing factor, of course.) That said,
nothing stopped her from glowering in tape-gagged,
sullen resentment at her tall, muscular, grinning handler, and
Tasha unfurled and settled the mat on the floor, then spun on
her heel and headed back towards the open door. "Effie,
Jana. Jana, Effie," she called back over her shoulder as
she crossed the threshold. "Play nice," she added with an
attractive and infuriating grin, then closed and locked
the door. Click!
Effie heaved a gagged sigh, then turned to the redhead. Jana.
Her name is Jana. Ginger Jana. Jana the
ginger. Got it.
Still smiling her winning smile, Jana set the picnic basket on
the floor next to the mat. "Hi." She gestured at the
mat. "Want to sit?"
I guess I do, Effie decided, and "gracefully" settled
into a comfortable semi-lotus at the end of the mat closest to
Jana also settled into a semi-lotus. The two naked ponies'
knees were about an inch apart, nearly touching. Jana
smiled (perhaps a little shyly). "I'm not going
to be so crass as to say 'welcome to the stables,' but...
Effie had no choice but to smile (with her eyes).
"Mrrrmf," she answered, then rolled her shoulders and leaned to
the side to bring her bound wrists, hands, and thumbs into
Jana's view. "Mrrrf?"
Jana sighed and shook her head. "Sorry.
Orders. No untying." Her smile returned.
"However..." She leaned close, frowning in concentration,
and carefully teased back a corner of Effie's tape-gag, then
gently peeled it from her lips. The process stretched
Effie's skin... but finally the strip of Microfoam came free and
Jana gently plucked the wads of cotton stuffing from Effie's
"Ahh... Thank you," Effie muttered, twisting her mouth and carefully
licking her lips. Her tongue had complained, but like the
rest of her mouth, was glad to be rid of the tape and especially
Meanwhile, Jana had opened the lid of the picnic basket, crushed
the former stuffing and tape into a wad, and dropped it
inside. She then reached in, produced a bottle of spring
water, and cracked and removed its cap.
Effie smiled in aqueous anticipation, then accepted a generous
chug from the bottle.
"Thanks," Effie sighed, then locked eyes with Jana before
continuing. "So, just to be clear, you're also Kyler's
Jana's smile returned. "I suppose." Her lips pursed
in an adorable teasing moue as she executed an adorable little
shrug. (The adorable aspects were unavoidable, of
course.) Jana's smile returned. "It's not so bad
being a pony, Effie," she said. "You'll get used to
it. Tasha is really very nice. Kyler can be
mean, but since Jo arrived, she spends most of her time playing
with her." Jana frowned (slightly) as she gazed at
Effie. "Here, let me straighten your hair."
Jana leaned close, reached behind Effie's head, and started
combing her fingers through Effie's ponytail. Not by
coincidence, this brought her smiling lips very close to Effie's
right ear. "Microphones and video cameras everywhere," she
whispered. "They can't possibly monitor all of us all the
time, but here and now is a safe bet."
"Got it," Effie whispered back. "Thank you," she added in
her normal voice as Jana finished fussing with her hair and
leaned back. So, Effie thought, she hasn't
drunk the Kool-Aid. Effie's initial impression had
been that Jana might be suffering from Stockholm
Syndrome, that she might be a Happy Pony. Now, Effie
suspected Jana was only acting like a Happy Pony.
Maybe. I'll have to be careful.
Effie gave the picnic basket a significant look... then turned
back to Jana.
Jana's smile broadened and she took the hint by reaching inside,
pulling out and snapping open a stereotypical red and white
checked picnic napkin, and tucking it under the top of Effie's
pony-collar. It draped down Effie's chest and covered her
breasts. The ginger cutie then reached back into the
basket and returned with a soup spoon and a shallow,
cylindrical, bowl-sized insulated container. "Warm soup,"
she announced as she removed the container's screw-cap and
carefully set it aside. "I believe it's pureed vegetable
beef. No chewing required," she explained with a grin as
she stirred the thick soup in question. "Carefully now,"
she cautioned as she loaded the spoon and held it to Effie's
lips. "You tongue is probably going to complain a little."
Effie accepted the spoon and carefully swallowed the soup.
Her pierced tongue did complain, but only with a slight
twinge. In any case, its objections were overridden by the
rest of Effie's body, especially her stomach. The soup was
savory and delicious!
Effie shared her opinion, "Yum," then accepted a second
"Good ponies eat well in Kyler's stable," Jana purred (with a
surreptitious wink). "She wants us in tiptop condition."
Effie swallowed. "Why'd they pierce my damn tongue,
Jana sighed, opened her mouth, extended her tongue, and showed
Effie her pierced tongue and stainless steel dumbbell
post. "We all have them. Kyler has what she calls
'Punishment Bits' that clamp over and under your tongue, behind
the post. Nasty things. They make fighting
the reins a painful proposition. We all hate them."
"Who's we?" Effie inquired, then accepted a third spoonful of
yummy soup (and ignored her tongue).
"The herd," Jana sighed. "Lolita, Jo, Olivia, myself...
and now you."
"By 'Olivia' you mean Lady Gladburn's assistant, Olivia
Goodbody, right?" Effie asked and Jana nodded. "Okay, but
Just then, and before Jana could answer, they heard a quiet but
gradually increasing clattering/rattling noise from Effie's left
(Jana's right) and turned their heads in that direction.
Effie's eyes popped wide and her jaw dropped. "Dear Lord!"
she gasped as she stared through the bars at the source of the