Van © 2020
Effie found herself staring at yet another escalation
of Kyler Drāgon's "pony crap."
Trundling towards them down the bridal path was a two-wheeled
cart being drawn my a pair "ponies," and The Dragon Lady herself
was on the cart's bench seat. The smiling blonde was still
wearing her gleaming brown riding boots, British-tan riding
pants, white cotton blouse with the sleeves rolled up, and
designer silk neck-scarf. And she'd added a pair of brown
leather riding gloves. The ponies' reins were in her left
hand and a long, thin, scary buggy whip in her
The human-ponies were wearing the same pony-harness system as
Lady Jo: black-leather-with-steel-hardware pushup-bras, corsets,
and weird thongs (either one-piece or multi-part and
integrated), as well as horseshoe-soled knee-boots. Of
course, that also meant their breasts were exposed and their
heads caged by head-harness-bridles with rubber bits cleaving
their mouths. Their nipples were pierced and ringed (like
Jo, Jana, and Effie, herself), and also had swaying, tinkling
bells (unlike Jana and herself). Both ponytails
(their real cranial and fake but butt-level ponytails) also
swayed. They clomped in unison, and even Effie—who was
gaping in wonder and dread at her very first pair of
cart-ponies—could tell they were a trained team.
Despite the distance, Effie recognized the pony on the right as
Olivia Goodbody, Lady Jo Gladburn's administrative assistant and
(obviously) fellow kidnap victim. Her pictures had been in
the news stories, and Olivia's trademark bangs had been arranged
to allow them to flutter over the bridle's forehead strap and
her bit gag served to showcase her equally trademark sexy
overbite. Like her employer and fellow prisoner, Olivia
had what in a more normal context would be called a healthy tan.
The pony on the left was a stranger, and she had the same petite
height as Jo, Jana, Olivia, and Effie herself.
Also—despite the distance and her bridle and bit—she was
unarguably cute. It was becoming obvious that short
stature and excessive girlish pulchritude were important
"recruitment" criteria for membership in Kyler's pony herd.
Lucky us, Effie silently fumed, then turned to
Jana. "Is that Lolita on the left?"
"It is," Jana confirmed. "You'll like Lolita. Olivia
too. They're both sweethearts."
Effie nodded. Lolita also had a healthy tan, but not quite
as dark as either Olivia's or Jo's. Her hair was a dark
shade of brown and her cranial ponytail decidedly short, to the
point that it fluttered a little but didn't actually sway.
Effie suspected when Lolita's head wasn't caged by a
bridal/harness, her coif might be some sort of crop, possibly a
pageboy. Her posterior/fake ponytail matched her darker
hair but was full length, meaning it was the same length as the
butt-tails of the other harnessed ponies. It did sway.
"Poor Olivia," Jana sighed. "She loves Jo.
It's obvious. Unfortunately, it's also obvious to
Kyler, and sometimes she makes Ollie watch while she punishes Jo
with predicament bondage or some other nastiness, including
forcing Jo to cum. Also, now and then Kyler punishes Olivia
and makes Jo watch."
"Bitch!" Effie muttered. She meant The Dragon Lady, of
course, not Olivia or Jo.
"It's heartbreaking," Jana sighed, then leaned close and planted
a quick kiss on Effie's cheek. "Don't ever call
Kyler a bitch to her face," she advised in a whisper, "no matter
what she does and how much she deserves it. Believe me,
you'll regret it."
Effie nodded, but didn't say anything in response.
Beyond the bars, the smiling, blond, beautiful bitch in question
had tugged on the reins, directed the cart off the path and onto
the grass, and the wheels rolled to a stop. She placed the
buggy-whip in its holder, gracefully leaped from the bench seat
with the reins still in her hand, and tethered the cart and its
team to a wooden hitching-post with a dangling iron ring.
Olivia and Lolita panted through their bits, their rings and
bells bouncing as they panted for breath. They also
glowed, like Jo, who Effie assumed was still clomping around the
exercise machine track off to her right and out of sight.
Kyler ignored her panting, sweating team and strode across the
lawn towards the exercise track in question.
Kyler was also ignoring the occupants of The Gazebo Cage, and
Jana and Effie were doing their best not to attract her
attention as they slowly, carefully climbed to their feet and
eased forward so they could watch whatever was about to
happen. Jana even thought to grab hold of Effie's
collar-chain to prevent it from rattling.
Kyler and the visible portion of the exercise track came into
Effie and Jana's view. The Dragon lady was standing with
her back to the Gazebo with her gloved hands on her hips and
Jo-the-pony was just clomping into view. Her Captive
Ladyship came even with The Dragon/Bitch Lady, who pulled her
cell-phone from her pocket and tapped the screen. The
exercise machine ground to a halt, as did Jo. Kyler
stepped forward and began running her gloved hands over Jo's
body. She was saying something to her panting, sweating
pony, but her back was still turned and the distance was too
great for Effie and Jo to hear.
Effie turned her gaze to the cart and found Olivia and Lolita
watching the unfolding encounter with rapt attention. She
looked back just in time to witness Kyler delivering a very
businesslike slap to Jo's exposed butt.
Despite the distance, Effie could see that Olivia's eyes were
shining, welling with unshed tears. Apparently, Lolita had
noticed as well, and was resting her bridled and bit-gagged head
on Olivia's shoulder in comfort.
"Like I said," Jana muttered, "heartbreaking."
Effie nodded, then heaved a sigh. Beyond the bars, Kyler
appeared to have sated her appetite for tormenting and gloating
over her captive enemy, at least for the moment, and was
striding back to the cart. Lolita and Olivia straightened
up as soon as Kyler turned and were standing tall in the traces
(as tall as they could, anyway), but with their heads lowered
and staring at the grass in front of their booted feet.
As soon as Kyler arrived (smiling evilly), she reached out,
lifted Olivia's chin, gazed into her eyes... then chuckled and
strolled to the hitching post.
"Bitch!" Effie muttered, then turned to Jana. "Sorry."
Jana's lips curled in an adorable little smirk. "You'll
learn... one way or the other."
"I said I was sorry," Effie muttered.
Out on the lawn, Kyler had bounced back onto the cart's
bench-seat, the whip was in her right hand, and the reins in her
left. She snapped the reins and the whip,
Olivia and Lolita stepped off in perfect unison and Effie and
Jana watched as the cart trundled back onto the bridle path...
dwindled into the distance... the tit-bell-jingling,
tire-crunching, and cart-rattling noises faded... the cart
entered the trees... and finally disappeared from view.
"So," Jana sighed, "more soup?"
While Jana fed
her the rest of the soup (which was cooling was still delicious),
Effie pondered how to proceed. She had a ton of questions,
but if they were, indeed, being monitored by their captors
(which she conceded was probable), her questions might be nearly
as informative to her captors as Jana's answers would be to
her. Monitoring aside, the upside of chatting now would be
instant gratification of her need immediate knowledge about her
(meaning their) situation. The twin downsides would be
continued ignorance and, until they could talk, the
possibly (meaning probability) of learning things the hard way,
the painful and unpleasant way. Effie decided she should
suck it up, bide her naked and bound time, and wait for an
occasion with a better assumption of privacy. It was
As it turned out, Effie didn't have to ponder the information
exchange dilemma for very long. Just as Jana finished
spooning the last of the soup into her mouth and was returning
the empty container, dirty spoon, and rumpled napkin to the
hamper... the lock in the Gazebo Cage door clicked, the
door opened, and Tasha strode into the room, still wearing her
black riding boots, gray riding pants, cadet-blue tank-top, and
"All right, ladies," Tasha beamed as she pulled her smartphone
from her pocket, "prepare for pony-collar hush-mode in... three
"Tasha!" Jana whined, her lips pursed in a truly heartbreaking
(and adorable) pout.
Effie's response was to stare more daggers... which proved as
ineffectual as ever.
"Three-two-one," Tasha said quickly (taking about one second),
then tapped the phone's screen and returned it to her pocket.
Feeling a little stubborn (borderline ornery), Effie decided to
test her collar with a cautious whisper. "Test-urk!"
Her collar was, indeed, in "hush-mode." The damn thing had
zapped her throat! Okay, it had been more of an
irritating tickle than a painful jolt, but she had been
whispering, so she supposed a subdued punishment made
sense. In any case, the zap was enough to motivate her to
forego further tests She did continue glowering,
The naked, collared, and now silenced ponies (one bound with
cord and the other not bound in any way) watched as Tasha
reached into another pocket and produced a pair of chrome-steel
thumbcuffs. "Jana, darling," Tasha purred, "give your new
herd-buddy a nice hug, around the waist but under her
Still pouting (and being unavoidably adorable) the naked ginger
did just that, squirmed close and embracing Effie face-to-face,
boobs-to-boobs, tummy-to-tummy, and thigh-to-thigh. They
were now lying on their sides on the thin, twin-size,
sage-green, better-than-nothing yoga-mat with Effie resting on
her right side and Jana on her left. Jana's arms were
around Effie's waist, as ordered, with her hands against the
disgruntled reporter's lower back.
Tasha knelt, there were two ratcheting clicks—C-c-c-c-click!
C-c-c-c-click!—and Effie surmised the thumbcuffs now
imprisoned Jana's thumbs, making their embrace permanent.
Tasha then started untying Effie's elbow-bonds. That was a
good thing, of course (meaning the elbow liberty), but the
forced intimacy was not.
And then, Tasha made things worse!. Effie felt her former
elbow-cord being cinched through her palm-to-palm,
wrist-hand-thumb bondage, tightened around Jana's thumbcuffs, then
loop from either side around both of their
waists. Tasha pulled the waist-cord taut and tied a knot
at the small of Jana's back.
Effie dialed up the intensity of her imaginary daggers, which
only seemed to broaden Tasha's supremely irritating smile.
Being literally face-to-face with her fellow pony, Effie noticed
that Jana's adorable freckled pout had morphed into an adorable
glower. And the humiliating icing on the cringeworthy cake
of their forced-intimacy was, thanks to their damn collars,
neither of them could curse, complain, and/or call down divine
retribution up the grinning head of their handler, which she so
And then, apparently because Tasha was in the mood to be a
callous bitch, she produced a double-hasp padlock identical to
the one already tethering Effie's collar to the terminal link of
the post chain. She snapped one hasp of the new lock
through a link of the post chain a few inches from the terminal
ring, then snapped the other hasp through the ring on the front
of Jana's pony-collar.
Effie and Jana had already been face-to-face, but now they no
choice but to be face-to-face, and with the tips of their
noses less than an inch apart. They turned to Tasha and
beamed a fusillade of imaginary daggers at Tasha, who
(unfortunately) weathered the deadly barrage unscathed.
"Okay, ladies," Tasha chuckled, "feel free to snuggle and
squirm, suck face, swap spit, tongue-wrestle, 'snog' as one of
our Brit-ponies would say, etc., as long as you do it
silently." She gave a mocking wave.
"Toot-a-loo. I'll be back." And with that, she
picked up the picnic basket, exited the room, and closed and
locked the door behind her. Click!
Effie and Jana heaved simultaneous sighs. This caused
their already touching breasts to squash together a little, but
that couldn't be helped. The waist-cord was enforcing
nonstop tummy-on-tummy contact, and any minor movement in the
interests of comfort by either naked captive caused their bodies
to slip and slide together... somewhere... somehow.
Thankfully, so far the nipple-on-nipple pressure wasn't enough
to make Effie's still fresh piercings complain... but she could
feel Jana's rings resting against her own, even through the
Effie locked eyes with her hugee. Is that a word?
Effie wondered. I'm pretty sure it's the name of a
brand of diapers, but is it a word? Hugee?
She-who-is-the-other-half-of-a-hug? Well, Effie
decided, if hugee isn't a word... it should be.
Her green eyes sad, Jana planted a gentle kiss on Effie's lips,
then turned her neck as much as their joined collars would allow
and rested her head on Effie's shoulder.
Effie knew Jana's kiss hadn't been an invitation that they
should follow Tasha's suggestion and start making out, but was
an adorable gesture of camaraderie. She considered
returning the gesture by kissing Jana's ginger hair. After
all, the fine, ginger strands were right there.
(And smelled faintly of... sandalwood?) Anyway, Effie
decided not to. Maybe later, she thought, and
closed her eyes.
predicament was frustrating in at least two ways:
All of this... Effie's
utter helplessness, her involuntary nakedness, her equally
involuntary intimacy with Jana... was all disorienting.
She realized that might very well be the point. Her
captors were playing head games.
- The inability to
verbally communicate with Jana. Not only was she
learning frustratingly little about her situation, but she
was making zero journalistic progress. There
would be no day-in-the-life-of-a-pony interview
today, thanks to Tasha and their damn collars.
- Effie didn't
formally consider herself either lesbian or bisexual;
however, on the objective level, she could and did
appreciate the pulchritude of a hot little ginger cutie like
Jana under their current pressing circumstances (pun
Also, Effie wasn't sleepy. She was napped out for the
day. Retreating into dreamland wasn't an option.
Effie was sore from lying on her right side, and apparently,
Jana was also ready for a change. Effie made a
tentative move to roll over onto her back, and apparently Jana
understood. Their shared chain rattled as Jana smiled and
nodded her head... and they both completed the half-roll... then
continued over until Effie was lying on her left side and Jana
on her right.
More time passed... possibly an hour... during which they rolled
and changed sides several more times.
And then, the Gazebo Cage door lock clicked, the door
opened, and Tasha strode back into the room.
Effie favored the smiling muscular amazon with her best
wither-and-die! expression, but this time she left
out the daggers. Obviously, they weren't working.
"Hello again, ladies," Tasha gushed. She knelt, unlocked
Effie's collar from the post-chain, untied the knot in the
waist-to-waist cord at the small of Jana's back, unlocked Jana's
thumbcuffs, then lifted Effie to her feet.
Effie tugged on her wrist-thumb-hand cord-bondage, just for
something to do while she watched Tasha use the former
waist-to-waist cord (which was also Effie's former elbow-bondage
cord) to quickly, efficiently, and tightly bind Jana's ankles,
feet, and big toes together. She then pulled Jana's arms
behind her back, and there was another round of double
ratcheting noises—C-c-c-c-click! C-c-c-c-click!—as
she captured the unhappy redhead's thumbs behind her back.
Apparently, Tasha was in one of her previously mentioned kinky,
Next, Tasha took another humiliating grip on Effie's ponytail
and led her from the Gazebo Cage. Her last glimpse of Jana
was the ginger cutie lying on her left side, chained by her
collar to the post, hands thumb-cuffed behind her back,
ankle-foot-toe-bound, and voluntarily "gagged" by her
pony-collar. Jana was obviously an unhappy camper (but
remained as adorable as ever). Tasha closed the door and
tapped the cypher-lock, locking the door. Click!
Effie was then dragged down the corridor, struggling and
screaming (meaning cooperative and glowering) to Tack Room
#1. Tasha opened the door, they crossed the threshold, and
Effie's nostrils flared. Leather. Tanned leather.
The not unpleasant scent in the air reminded her of the racks of
leather coats and jackets at Nordstrom or Marshalls. The
space was about fifteen-feet by thirty-feet.
In the half of the space closest to the door, on both walls,
arrays of straps, leads, bridles, harnesses, etc., hung from
wooden pegs. Effie recognized components of Jo, Olivia,
and Lolita's pony costumes. All the leather was black and
the metal hardware burnished steel.
The back half of the room was bare, except for a taut,
horizontal steel chain stretching from the left wall to the
Before Effie had much of a chance to sort out the details of the
various leather and steel accoutrements, Tasha led her to the
horizontal chain and clipped the ring on the front of her
pony-collar to the center of the chain—Click!—then
strolled away to the hanging tack and returned with a pair of
leather cuffs. She buckled the cuffs around Effie's
wrists, untied her wrist-hand-thumbs cord-bondage, lifted her
hands to either side, and clipped them to the chain. Click!
This left Effie naked and bound to the horizontal chain by her
collar and wrist-cuffs, her arms raised and elbows bent about
90°. She had sufficient slack to turn her head, look back
over her shoulder, and watch Tasha return to the hanging tack,
but was helplessly pinned in place.
And then, for Effie, Kyler Drāgon's "pony crap" expanded from
the realms of rhetoric and observation to include the realm of personal
When the metaphorical dust settled, Effie found herself wearing
the top half of a pony costume, missing only the the bridle and
From the waist down,
Effie was still totally naked, but she noted empty buckles on
the lower part of the corset which she assumed were waiting to
secure the missing crotch-panel that would complete the
system. So... Effie was a pony, except for the
split-crotch bottom, bridle and bit, and boots.
- She was wearing
what amounted to a black leather corset than rode her hips,
squeezed her waist, and pushed up her bare breasts. It
closed by means of a series of several short, thin,
horizontal straps and small buckles in a vertical row down
- Her arms were
folded behind her back and encased in a "U"-shaped binder
that closed with three short straps similar to the corset
closure-straps. The binder had narrow straps that
yoked her shoulders and threaded through matching buckles on
the sides of the corset a additional straps and buckles that
snugged the binder tight against the back of the corset.
This also solved the minor mystery of whether the pony harness
was one, two, or three pieces (not counting the
arm-binder). It was two: corset and bottom. There
was no separate bra.
Effie also noted that the corset and binder fit perfectly.
The buckle-straps all seemed to have only three closely-spaced
holes, and Tasha had secured each strap on its middle
hole. Had the corset been custom made to fit Effie
Dennings? Doubtful, unless they had a leather-working
shop on the premises. Then, Effie realized every
member of Skyler's "herd" she'd met were the same height and
build, Effie's height and build. So, she
surmised, the pony costumes could very well be
convenient for Tasha.
Effie's collar was still clipped to the horizontal chain, so she
wasn't going anywhere. She watched (glowered) as
Tasha went to a wall-mounted cabinet... did something involving
a little clattering and gurgling (her back was turned and
blocking Effie's view)... then returned with a stainless steel,
quart-sized bowl in one hand and a small plastic cup half-full
of a green liquid in the other.
"Time for a little tongue-piercing aftercare, Effie," Tasha
purred, then lifted the cup. "This is a saline solution,
with additives, and it tastes 'minty fresh,' as the saying
goes. Swish it around in your mouth for half a minute,
then spit in the bowl." Her smile widened. "And I
know what you're thinking. If you spit anyplace but the
bowl—like in my face, for example—you'll spend the night in a
very, very uncomfortable situation. Do we have an
Effie heaved a furious sigh, then nodded. She continued
glowering, but accepted the contents of the cup and began
swishing it around. Apparently, Effie fumed, 'minty
fresh' actually means 'tastes like seawater, mouthwash, and
cat piss,' not that I've ever tasted cat piss.
"That's enough," Tasha said finally, then held the bowl under
Effie spat into the bowl. Her mouth tingled a little and
there was a salty aftertaste, but she'd survived the "aftercare"
experience... and she was a Good Little Pony. It was
Tasha left the Tack Room with the bowl and cup. There was
a pause—during which Effie took the occasion to twist, squirm,
roll her shoulders, and test her new "outfit"—then Tasha
returned without the bowl or cup. She strode to the
cabinet and Effie watched as she used a pair of bandage scissors
to snip a six-inch strip of tape from a wide roll of Microfoam
"Mistress' orders," Tasha said, stretching the strip between her
hands as she strolled back to Effie. "Lips together,
It was another moment of truth for Effie the Defiant
Prisoner. Unfortunately, the "collar rules" still
applied. Also, even if, in a literally incredible feat
of kung-fu, Effie succeeded in swing-kicking Tasha into
oblivion, she's still be harnessed and chained in place. So,
glowering all the way, Effie pressed her lips together and
endured the humiliation of allowing herself to be tape-gagged.
"Very pretty," Tasha purred as she smoothed the tape with her
fingers. "Normally, Mistress specifies a ball-gag for such
occasions, but I reminded her we need to coddle your poor tongue
for a few days." Next, she slowly, gently, peeled the
circular band-aids from Effie's breasts, exposing her newly
pierced nipples and their new rings. "Excellent."
Tasha then went to the cabinet and returned with an alcohol
soaked cotton pad (Effie could smell the alcohol), a tube of
ointment, and a new pair band-aids.
Effie watched and did her best to ignore the ever-so-slight sting
of the pad cleaning the old ointment from her nipples.
The evaporating alcohol was cold, cold enough to make her
violated nipples sit up and take notice, and take the rings with
them (which was more humiliation.) Tasha applied
fresh ointment... followed by the new band-aids, and that was
that. Effie's nipples and rings were once again
Tasha returned to the cabinet, put the tube of ointment back
where she got it, and deposited the band-aid wrappers and
alcohol pad in a small trashcan. She then lifted a
six-foot long, narrow, black leather strap from a wooden peg and
strolled back to the "patiently waiting" Effie.
The strap had a convenient, wrist-size loop at one end and a
spring-loaded steel clip at the other. It's a horse
lead, Effie realized. Great. No more
getting dragged along by the ponytail. Yippee.
Sure enough, Tasha clipped the clip through the front ring of
Effie's pony-collar, released the clip securing her to the
horizontal chain, and "encouraged" her to duck under the
chain. She then passed her left hand through the lead's
wrist-loop, took a firm grip on the strap, and led Effie from
Tack Room #1.
"Now," Tasha said as she strolled along (with Effie fuming and
padding behind), "take my advice and be a good pony
tonight. You don't want to get off on the wrong foot with
Mistress. She doesn't mind you being 'feisty,' as long as
you're obedient. It's a bit of a balancing act.
Anyway, tonight, if I were you, I'd err on the side of
No, Effie didn't understand, but assumed that she soon
would. Also, her earlier suspicions were confirmed.
Being led around on a leash was, indeed, humiliating.
Tasha kept walking, so her question had been rhetorical.
They came to the end of a corridor, Tasha opened what was
obviously a door to the outside, and they exited the
stable. Effie noted two things:
And another thing: it
was getting all too easy to fall in line with Kyler's program
and think of herself as a "pony" and a member of a "herd."
It was infuriating. Of course, Effie wasn't really thinking
of herself as a pony just because Kyler and Tasha kept calling
her one. She didn't want to play their perverted
game! But she had no choice! Effie resolved to
substitute "human" or "person" for "pony," at least in her
thoughts. The problem was, she wasn't sure she was up to
the challenge. Eventually, she'd start slipping.
She'd already started slipping.
- She was, indeed on
a large ranch of farm. She'd exited the stable on the
side away from the mountains, but the barn she'd seen
earlier was off to her right and a large, mansion-sized
house was to her left. Also, the green lawns and
bordering treeline continued, with the same mix of
species. Finally, on this side of the stable, the
horizon was defined by more of the same forested hills she'd
seen on the side with the mountain.
- Tasha hadn't
entered a code in the door's cypher-lock or pulled out her
smartphone and deactivated the alarm as they exited the
stable, and Effie hadn't been shocked by her collar.
Was Tasha's spiel about getting zapped if she went anywhere
near doors and windows a bluff designed to intimidate her
into not even trying to escape, or was the security system
sophisticated to the point that it knew not to shock her if
she was with Tasha? She'd have to gather more intel
and wait for an opportunity to debrief the other herd
Okay, plan B, Effie resolved. From now on, I'm
a 'ponygirl,' which is a female human prisoner being
forced to playact against her will as a real, four-legged pony.
As acts of defiance went, it was pretty lame, but at the moment
it was the only arrow in her quiver... other than overt
disobedience at the price of getting zapped or bound in a stress
position or suffering who-knew-what other punishments.
The path underfoot was sand and rounded pebbles, but Effie
suspected it had been compacted and stabilized in some
manner. Anyway, it provided good traction underfoot and
wasn't what Effie could call punishing. Of course, she
wasn't used to tromping around barefooted so there was some
discomfort, but she'd survive.
Their destination was the mansion, and it was a classic, post
WW-II, Modern structure with a complex, jutting roof-line,
horizontal siding, and lots of glass walls. It reminded
Effie of the mansion near Mount Rushmore in the Hitchcock
by Northwest, only without the cantilevered lounge
and porch overhanging a cliff. There was no cliff.
Effie christened it "The Ranch House."
They entered The Ranch House through a side entrance and Effie's
bare feet encountered smooth and obviously expensive tiles and
plush rugs. The decor was as Modern as the architecture,
and everything was obviously top-of-the-line and
expensive. Effie was impressed. Kyler Drāgon might
be a horrible excuse for a human being, but her decorator had
They made their way through the mansion to a bathroom (also
tastefully decorated in the Modern style) and Tasha planted
Effie on the commode.
"Be a good little pony and relieve yourself," Tasha ordered
(with an infuriating smile).
Effie locked eyes with her handler and glowered. The
fun never stops around here, does it? she fumed.
However, despite the humiliation, she managed to empty her
bladder. When ya gotta go, ya gotta go.
Tasha was "nice" enough to pat her nether region with a couple
of folded squares of of toilet paper (which Effie didn't find at
all humiliating), then flushed the commode, wet a
washcloth at the washbasin, knelt, and scrubbed Effie's
feet. They were only a little dirty, so not a lot of
effort was involved. She then dried them with a hand
towel, stood, and pulled Effie to her now clean bare feet.
"Remember what I told you," Tasha cautioned, then led Effie from
Their next destination was a set of double doors at the end of a
hallway. Tasha opened the doors, led her charge across the
threshold—and Effie's eyes popped wide! What the hell?