Damsel in Distress 9/9 by Echo (MF anal)

Chapter 9

     Dark Damsel raised her shaking hand and tried to fit
the key into the door lock.  She wept with frustration when it
took three attempts to actually get the key in the lock.  Once
inside, with the door closed, she tore at her costume.
     The vibrators were on again and driving her crazy.  She
was at her main hideaway, the one where she kept the motorcycle.
Her breathing was reaching that ragged state once again.  By
the feel of it, the vibrators were held in place by a sort of
chastity belt arrangement.  The thin belt, which went between
her legs, split her pussy lips and rested right on her clit.
When the vibrators went off it was like a direct connection.
     They were going now and she was in a state of high arousal.
Her fingers seemed inept as they undid the zipper holding her
costume top to the bottoms.  Finally it was undone and she 
pulled it off.  The bottoms were loose about her pinched waist
and slipped easily down to her hips.  With a little help they
went over the hips and ended up a puddle on the floor.  Now
for the belt.
      Dark Damsel gave a low scream of frustration as her 
fingers encountered the padlock.  Bastards!  Scum!  She had to
sit down; she was becoming slightly faint again.  No air.  The
corset was too tight.
     Gingerly she stepped into the small bedroom and sat on the
bed.  The act of sitting pushed the two vibrators just that 
fraction farther in and tightened the belt which rested so
arousingly against her clit.  "No!" the cry was wrenched from
her between pants.  She had to get up, to loosen the belt.
     It was no use.  She looked in the mirror to see two crazed
eyes staring back.  Too late.  She was going over again.  The
orgasm hit and Dark Damsel cried out again as she fell backwards
onto the bed.  This time, though, the vibrators didn't stop.
They kept working on her oversensitive parts, leaving her
thrashing around, trying to get away.  "Oh...my...god...not...
again!" she panted out.  Yes, again.  Her body heaved itself
up in an arch, then collapsed.
     The vibrators were vibrating at a lesser tempo, the
batteries running down.  Dark Damsel just lay on the bed, 
groaning and panting, her legs and arms twitching as sensations
rolled over her.  Finally both the sensations and vibrations
ceased.
     It took her several minutes to recoup.  Then, slowly,
Dark Damsel sat up and removed her cowl.  Her black hair was
plastered on her head.  She was soaked in sweat.  Carefully,
Dark Damsel got to her feet and went in search of a knife to
cut the straps from around her.  Finding one in her pouch, 
she very gently inserted it under the belt.  She stopped.  
Withdrawing the knife, she picked up her pouch and withdrew 
the lock-pick.  It was the work of only seconds to pick the 
lock.
     Breathing a vast sigh of relief, Dark Damsel undid the
belt and slowly withdrew the offending articles from within
her body.  She lay the contraption on the side table and
smiled tentatively.  It might, she considered, have its uses
at a later date.
     The corset laces just couldn't be got at.  The tie was too
high on her back.  She made an attempt to cut the laces, but
they seemed to be wire cored.  Bastards!  She would need help
to undo it.  Until then she would have to be careful to not
exert herself in the least.
     To whom could she go for help?  Ray Barton came 
immediately to mind.  Yet to go to him would mean going in
costume.  If she went in costume she might be accosted along
the way and she was in no position to fight.  She'd be quickly
at the mercy of anyone.  No, Ray was out.  
     Dark Damsel picked up her cell phone.  "Hi, Brenda.  It's
Renee.  I need you to meet me at my place in half an hour,"
she told her friend.  "I'll explain there.  Thanks, you're
a lifesaver."

     "Jesus, this is tight."  Brenda pulled and pried at the
laces.  "You're not seeing him again, right?" she asked Renee,
who lay face down on her bed.
     "Too right," Renee gasped out.  In order to get a little
slack where the knot was, Brenda had endeavoured to tighten
the corset a little.  It had worked and she now struggled with
the knot.
     "I have to say you...ugh...find the most interesting men,
but for my taste, this goes a little too far.  Aha!  Got it!"
    Renee took the first real breath she'd had for hours.  Such
a relief.  As Brenda continued loosening the corset, Renee 
relaxed.
     "Okay.  I'll go make some tea," Brenda told her.  "You 
join me in the kitchen and tell me all about this worm."
     After Brenda had left, Renee stood up and dropped the
skirt she'd worn over the bottom of the corset.  She then
completed the loosening of the wretched garment and let it
slip off of her.  Looking in the mirror she saw angry red
lines where it had pressed against her skin.  She shivered.  It
was over.  It was finally over.  
     The tears came again.  Nevermore would she wear the garb of 
Dark Damsel.  She had been used and abused.  Her body had been
declared not her own.  Hundreds, if not thousands, of people had
watched her debasement, had seen her orgasm as her foe had taken
her in the ass.  And the whole thing had been just one big cruel
joke for The Photographer.  She had acquiesced in order to 
recover Lady Margot's necklace.  She had recovered nothing more
than useless costume jewelry.  When that became known, as it 
surely would, Dark Damsel would be the laughingstock of the
Hub City.  Dark Damsel was finished.

     Hours later, after giving Brenda the details of the night--
how her date had dressed her in the corset, then bailed out on
her; how he had decided that she wasn't quite adventurous
enough for him, etc.--Renee lay in bed, awake.  Tears came and
went.  Finally she turned on the T.V.  Anything to keep from
thinking about what had happened.  She looked at the clock.
It was almost time to get up anyway.  Get up, ha!  She'd spend
the next couple of days in bed.  To hell with everything.
     A familiar figure caught her attention.  It was Minx.
She canceled the mute.
     ". . . late breaking story, Minx has recovered the loot
  taken by The Photographer.  We have a rare interview with Minx.
     "Minx, could you tell us how you broke the case?" the 
  reporter asked.
     "Well, I really didn't," purred the familiar voice.  "I
  received word yesterday that someone wanted to meet with me.  
  I agreed to the meet.  It was the Photographer . . . No," she
  waved off the reporter, "I can't describe him.  He was in a
  darkened room.  I went in, he handed me the briefcase, 
  explained what was in it and gave me a message to give to 
  you."  
     Minx smiled into the camera.  She had a lovely smile, Renee
thought.  If only that dazzle paint didn't take away from her
presence . . . 
     "The Photographer gave you a message for us?" the reporter
  asked.
     "Yes.  He said, and I quote, 'You will not hear from the
  one you have named The Photographer again.  I apologize to
  those whom I have victimized.  I know that the Police will
  keep after me, but I suggest that they find better things
  to do with their manpower.  The Photographer will never
  bother anyone again.'  That's what he said," Minx concluded.
     "Why did he return the loot?  Did you ask?" the reporter
  wanted to know.
     "Of course I asked," Minx was exasperated by the stupidity
  of the question.  "He said that he had obtained everything
  he had wanted from the jewels.  That's all.  He had no further
  use for them.  What in blazes he meant by that, I have no
  idea.  Anyway, this interview is over.  I've kept my promise."
     With that Minx turned and was out of view of the camera
in seconds.  Renee sat shaking.
     "Everything he wanted," she repeated, in a daze.  The whole
object had been to get *her*.  Why?  There was no answer.  She
got up and made herself a light breakfast.  While swallowing
the last of it her gaze crossed a small paper bag.  She started.
In it were the videos the Photographer had left her.  Renee 
picked them up and fed the one labeled as "D.D.1.: A lesson." 
into her machine.  She sat down and hit the play button.
     It seemed to be another news report.  Renee froze.
     ". . . end of a criminal spree.  And now our man in
  the streets, Jake Gowan, brings us this live report."
     The inset showed a man with a microphone.  It enlarged
  until it filled the screen.
     "Thanks, Bill.  With me, here, I have The Hub City's own 
  Dark Angel, whose subterfuge has ended a reign of terror.  Dark
  Damsel, could you tell our viewers a little more about how you 
  captured the infamous 'Midnight Caller'?" 
     She laughed, lightly, as if at a joke.  "Oh, I'd hardly
  call it a 'reign of terror'.  And Kirby Phillips, the man you
  know as the 'Midnight Caller', is hardly infamous except, 
  perhaps, in the minds of those with expensive jewelry and, of 
  course, those who insure said jewelry."
     "Still, Dark Damsel, the Midnight Caller has been a bane to
  the law enforcement officers of this city for some months,
  diverting much needed resources from other areas.  His capture
  is bound to have repercussions far beyond the removal of one
  criminal from the streets of the Hub City."
          "This is correct. That is why I persuaded Lady Margot 
  to aid me in this venture."
     "But Lady Margot's necklace alone is reputed to be 
  worth a quarter of a million dollars."  The reporter's voice
  turned a little hard.  "If your plan had failed . . ."  He
  left it to the viewers' imagination to consider just what 
  would have happened.
     "If my plan had failed," she said sweetly, "then Kirby
  Phillips would now be in the possession of a thousand dollars
  worth of fake jewels."
     The reporter laughed.  "So," he managed, "the notorious
  Midnight Caller, the 'terror of the Hub City', risked and lost 
  his liberty for imitation stones.  One wonders how he will live 
  down this humiliation in the company of his peers, his new
  housemates . . . in The Big House."

     The picture paused and the screen went black.  However, the
audio continued and the reporter's last words were repeated. 
     "So, the notorious Midnight Caller, the 'terror of the Hub
City', risked and lost his liberty for imitation stones.  One
wonders how he will live down this humiliation in the company
of his peers, his new housemates . . . in The Big House".
     The audio dropped off.  Renee stared in shock at the screen.
All this because . . . .  Her stomach lurched and she ran to 
the washroom just in time to deposit her breakfast down the 
toilet.
     When she recovered, Renee put the second tape into the
machine.  It was a copy, probably made at the same time
as the original, of the encounter in the gym.  Renee watched
the fight, noting how The Photographer had countered her strikes
and how she had been unable to counter his.  She needed further
training.  No.  She didn't.  Dark Damsel was done.

     "Say it."
     "Oh, no!" Dark Damsel groaned.  It took a few seconds, 
then, "Please fuck me in the ass."
     "I couldn't hear you."
     Louder, "Please fuck me in the ass."  A short pause.
"Oh my God!"
     "And oh, God, *yes*!" cried out Kitty as her lover did the
same to her as he'd done to Dark Damsel in the video which was
playing on the screen in front of them.     
     Kitty grinned as Dark Damsel collapsed on the mat, her ass 
still high in the air, impaled on The Photographer's cock.  She
lowered her own upper body and looked sideways to the mirror.
"Do I look as lewd as her," Kitty asked.
     "You've always looked better, love," he answered and
reached down to hold her breasts as he continued moving slowly
in her.
     Kitty watched as her image brought the vibrator out and held
it to Dark Damsel's clit.  "Did you enjoy her, lover?  Didn't
I tell you how wild she was?"
     "She was good and I enjoyed her," he replied.  "Especially
when you made her come.  I think that embarrassed her more than
anything else--that and thinking it was going out live.  Yes,
she was wild and we did everything I wanted, thanks, kitten.  
And, yes, I loved the way she spasmed around my cock, just
like you are about to, kitten."
     They stopped talking and moved into high gear, Kitty
pushing back against her lover's thrusts.  Soon he began to
tense and Kitty knew he was going to come.  She rubbed her
own clit furiously and cried out just after he collapsed on
her.
     They lay together for a time, then Kitty squirmed out
from under him.  She lay on her side and the man who had been
The Photographer snuggled in behind her.
     "Lover?" Kitty asked hesitantly, enjoying his warmth and
the soft ambiance of the after love snuggling.  "Can we talk?"
     "Always, my kitten," he replied sleepily.  "What shall we
talk about this time."
     "Renee Jimson," Kitty murmured.
     "Dark Damsel?" her lover questioned.  "Which of her 
attributes would you like to discuss?"
     "No," Kitty corrected, "not Dark Damsel, Renee Jimson.  I
did some research on her, Bill."  She paused, wondering how he
would take it."
     "And what did you find out, Kitty," Bill asked, growing
more interested.  His hand grew more interested, too, as it 
cupped a breast and began slowly rubbing the nipple.
     "Her father was a cop . . . "
     "Like father, like daughter."
     ". . . who was shot and killed when she was seventeen.
She's been on her own since then."  Kitty felt Bill relax 
behind her.  His fingers stopped playing with her nipple and
began stroking her side, over her hips and down her thigh as
far as he could reach, then back up again.  It was very
soothing.
     "Seventeen isn't a child, Kitty," Bill murmured.
     "I know."  She felt his breath on the back of her neck
and shivered a little.
     "Cold, darling?"
     "A little."  
     Bill pulled a sheet over the two of them.  "So, you are
thinking that she is like us?"  His voice was soft.  "You want
to stop now."
     "Let's take down the page, Bill.  Let's not put anything
more up.  She's had her lesson.  I doubt that she'll ever put
on her costume again.  We've destroyed her, and I don't think
I like that."
     "She destroyed him, Kitty, never forget that," Bill stated,
but his voice was calm, soothing.  After a short pause where
Kitty remained silent he conceded.  "Okay, kitten, for you.  
We'll take down the page.  I guess we've had our revenge, and
he'll find out about it.  I made sure of that."
     "You didn't take any chances, did you?"  Kitty was
worried.
     "Of course not."  
     She turned on her back, and his breath now fell upon
her throat.  It was very nice.  His hand began to roam again
and Kitty could feel the heat rising.  It was going to be 
a very good day.
     "Yes, lover, yes!"

     "So there you are.  All done.  Check it out for yourself."
Rebecca sat back and watched as Ray entered his new website and
began playing through the pages.  His eyes were alight with
joy.
     "You're great, Rebecca," he enthused.  "It's better than
I ever dreamed it could be."  He turned away from the screen
and smiled at her.  "Tell you what.  Why don't you and I go
out for some dinner.  I owe you."
     Rebecca wasn't so eager.  "Just where did you have in
mind?  Not Tommy's?"
     Ray's smile lit his face.  "Great little place, isn't it?"
     "You owe me for introducing it to me.  Ray, it's a greasy
spoon!"  Rebecca couldn't, for the life of her, see the 
attraction.  She stood and stretched, knowing that she was
going to accept anyway.
     "Yeah," he agreed.  "Just like the one Dad used to run."
     Ah, that was it.  "Okay, Ray.  We'll go out for dinner
and you can tell me all about him."  She smothered a laugh
as a look of consternation came over his face.
     "You mean you don't like . . ."
     "Tommy's will be fine, Ray.  Let's go before you change
your mind and cheat me out of my due."
     The evening sun was shining down, the heat of the day
slowly dissipating, as they walked arm in arm along the sidewalk.
The air was clean, the breeze coming in off the lake.  A nice
day for a walk.
     "Spare some change, lady?"
     The child couldn't be more than twelve.  Rebecca stopped
and looked down on him.  "Hi there, what's up?"  She smiled
encouragingly.
     "I need to get enough for a room for the night," the
youngster stated.  He looked her straight in the eyes.
     "I see.  Hmmm.  I might be able to help you out."
     Suddenly the youngster's eyes grew wary.  He looked
from Rebecca to Ray and back again.  Rebecca affected to
not notice.  She fished in her purse.
     "Here's ten dollars, and here is a card.  Can you make
out the address?"  Who knew if the kid could read or not.
     "Eight fifty-seven Weber," the youngster answered.
"A haven?" he asked contemptuously.
     Rebecca laughed.  "I know what you mean, but this one
is different.  Tell them Rebecca sent you.  Okay?"
     "Maybe."
     "That's all I ask." She handed him the money and the
card and the youngster vanished.
     "You're all right, Nasturant," Ray said as they sat
down at the table.  "But that soft heart of yours is going
to get you in trouble some day."
     Rebecca didn't smile.  She looked Ray in the eyes.  "Do
you know what it's like being a street kid?"
     "I've seen a lot, Rebecca," Ray replied mildly.
     "Well, I've done more than see.  I've been there.  Sometimes
all it takes is one helping hand, one stranger ready to give just
that little bit without asking anything in return."  She stopped
talking and Ray knew better than to interrupt the silence.  "So,
your father owned one of these places?"  Ray nodded.  "And you
still seem to have turned out okay.  Strange."

     For two days Renee had buried herself in her work.  Brenda
was relieved to have Renee back in charge, but her sudden drive
had Brenda worried.  Renee refused to talk about it and Brenda
merely sighed and helped as best she could.  Sooner or later
Renee would come around.  Today, however, would not be the day
and Brenda patted Renee on the shoulder as she took her leave.
    "See you tomorrow."
    "Tomorrow," Renee agreed, not looking up from the computer
screen.
    "Don't forget to bundle up if you go out.  It's cold and
miserable for July."  
    "Okay."
    There had been a sudden cold snap a thick fog covered the
Hub City.  It would be a good day for Dark Damsel to take her
last ride, Renee decided as soon as the door closed behind
Brenda.  She would take the motorcycle and return it to the
Garage on 5th.  It could only cause Renee Jimson problems if
it remained in her possession.
     Renee saved her file and turned off the computer.  Yes,
now would be a good time for Dark Damsel's last ride.  She had
been hiding away since her last encounter with The Photographer.
She hadn't listened to the news or gone onto the Internet.  She
could just imagine what awaited her there.  Dark Damsel was
probably the laughingstock of the nation.
     Putting on her trenchcoat, Renee prepared to exit her 
apartment, then turned around.  "Hey, Nietzsche, wanna go for
a ride?" she asked the stuffed tiger.  She needed some support.
Together the two of them trekked to the hideaway.  Inside she 
changed to the now hated garments of Dark Damsel.  The last time, 
she said to  herself, the last time.
     "Sorry, Dad, I failed.  Come on, Nietzsche.  I always 
promised you a ride on the cycle.  This is your last chance."
The tiger, of course, said nothing.

     A few miles away, Officer Rebecca Nasturant was walking 
away from the Weber Street Haven, having put in an evening shift
helping the staff.  She enjoyed this part of her job, liaising
with the Haven and giving seminars to the street kids.  She
also enjoyed the long walk to the subway, especially on foggy
nights like this one.  There was something about the fog she
enjoyed.  It gave her a chance to think.  Tonight she was 
thinking about detective Ray Barton.

     "Ray, we got a hot tip!"  Charlie came bursting into the
office.  "They're at the Halcyon Hotel, now."
     "Great!" Ray swung around in his chair and pressed the
alarm button.  Soon all the men were in the room and the
briefing was short, sharp and to the point.  "Okay," Ray
concluded as he finished putting on his bulletproof vest,
"remember what they did to Johnny.  So let's be careful."
     The men scrambled for the cars.

     Rebecca stopped at Ed's Diner.  Another greasy spoon,
she thought.  But eating here reminded her of the very nice
time she'd had with Ray, listening to him tell her about his
father and the way he ran his Diner.  Little Ray had been 
helping out and had told his father how one day he'd run a
Diner, too.  His father had smiled and said, "No, I work hard
so you can have something better.  But, son, if it turns out
you really want a Diner, then I'll be happy to see you here."
     Of course, as Ray grew older, the thought of taking over
the family business had become less and less appealing, but
the atmosphere of a Diner always brought back good memories.
     Rebecca enjoyed the way Ray talked about his family and
wondered what things would have been like if . . . .  She
took another forkful of apple pie.  Good pie, she thought
and looked out to the foggy street.  Two cars pulled up at
the hotel opposite.  She watched the eight men get out of
the cars and became alert.  One of them turned so his face
was visible.  It was Ray!  As one they turned and entered 
the Hotel.  A few seconds later the gunfire started.
     "You!" Rebecca shouted at the counter man.  "Call this
number.  Tell them 'Officers in trouble, shots fired, need
backup'."
     "You a cop?" the counterman asked.
     "Damn right," Rebecca answered as she pulled her revolver
out of her purse and headed for the door.

     Even the traffic lights seemed to be against her, Dark 
Damsel thought as she stopped for the fifth red light in as 
many blocks.
     "Hi!" 
     The voice startled her and she turned to see Minx stepping
out from under an awning.
     "Hi, yourself," Dark Damsel replied.  She didn't want this.
Minx was too much a reminder of what she was giving up.
     "Glad to see you out and about," Minx told her as she
approached.  Without being asked, Minx climbed up behind Dark
Damsel.  "Rumour is you'd given up the cowl," Minx breathed in
Dark Damsel's ear.  "Glad to see they weren't true.  Green 
light."
     Dark Damsel accelerated to a safe speed, liking the feel
of Minx close behind her, yet not wanting her there, on this
of all nights.  "They were true.  This is my last ride.  I'm
just returning the cycle."
     "Son of a bitch," Minx muttered.  "Why?"  Dark Damsel 
didn't answer.  "Nice cycle," Minx said, to break the silence.
     "You want it?  Tell you what, I'll introduce you to a man
named Ray.  You should come with me anyway.  He's holding your
half of the reward for those guys we nailed.  Anyway, working
with the Police isn't bad."
     "You're serious."  Minx was astounded.  "Why?" she asked
again, this time more insistent.
     "Don't tell me you don't know.  It must be everywhere.
I'm surprised people are talking about anything else."  Dark 
Damsel was bitter.
     "It doesn't matter what anyone *else* thinks or says,"
Minx told her.  "The only one who is important is . . ."
     "Shots fired, officers down.  Halcyon Hotel.  Barton needs
backup!"  The police radio came to life.
     Dark Damsel drifted to a stop.  Minx had thrown her a 
lifeline.  Things were tumbling into place in her mind, but 
there was no time to think.  "Get off," she ordered.
     "No way, babe.  We're in this together.  Let's go get 'em."

     The Halcyon, in it's heyday had been a first class hotel.
It had a large foyer with a grand staircase leading up to the
second floor.  A bannister ran around three sides of that second
floor, overlooking the foyer.
     In the foyer, taking cover where they could, were Ray and
four of his men.  Three others were down.  Ray looked up, gun
in hand, grimly thinking that this scene reminded him of the
movie "The Lone Ranger" where the Texas Rangers were caught in 
the canyon and massacred.  He hoped the scene wouldn't play
out the same way.
     A figure appeared above the railing, gun in hand.  Before
Ray could take aim three explosions came from the front door
and the man tumbled over and fell to the floor.  Wincing from
the rolling thunder (only in movies could guns be fired in
enclosed places without causing the ears pain, not to mention
the loss of hearing), Ray turned to see Rebecca moving across 
the room, still firing.  He jumped out, grabbed her arm and 
pulled her to the wall.
     Ray stood over her, alert for any other gunmen while
Rebecca reloaded.  She looked up at him.
     "Shouldn't have come," he told her, exaggerating his
lip movements.
     "Had to," she replied, though she realized that Ray
could probably barely hear what she was saying, her own ears 
still hurt and rang from the gunfire.  "You never invite me to 
the really fun parties, so I crashed."  The wild fear in her 
eyes belied the joke.  Gun loaded she transferred her attention 
to the second floor.

     "Going somewhere boys?" Dark Damsel asked just before
lashing out with a kick which caught a turning gunman in the
kneecap, cracking it.  Her second kick landed on the side of
his head and he dropped like a rock.  The second gunman stared
in shock at the knife which had suddenly appeared in his wrist.
A moment later he started to scream, a scream which was cut 
short by a blow to his neck.
     "Two down," Minx grinned as she removed her knife.  More 
gunfire echoed from below them.  "Feeling horny yet?"
     Dark Damsel laughed as Minx's statement settled her down.
This was the first time she'd ever gone into a firefight like
this.  "We get out of this and you can jump my bones," she
replied.
     "Deal!" cried Minx

     Ray pointed towards the hallway to the rear door.  Rebecca
nodded, even though she didn't like it at all.  Suddenly guns
were going off all around her and she lit out for the safety
of the passage.
     Made it, she gasped to herself.  A man appeared in a door
way and she raised her gun and pulled the trigger.  Click.
The man laughed and pointed his own gun at her.  "Later, you'll
beg for this," he leered at her, "later."
     A kick to the middle of his back propelled him towards
the young officer who hit him with her gun.  He turned and swung
a fist which connected and Dark Damsel went down holding her 
face.  The man raised his gun again but Rebecca smashed down
with her own and the man screamed in agony, his hand shattered.  
Dark Damsel swung her legs around and caught the back of his 
knees, bringing him crashing to the floor where a kick from Minx
silenced him.
     The silence was deafening.  The smell of gunsmoke permeated
everything.  Dark Damsel peered through the dim light and smoke
into the foyer.  A man moved, then another and another.  Sirens
filled the air and moments later there were more men in blue than
Dark Damsel had ever seen at one time since her father's funeral.
    Ray stumbled through the foyer and looked at Dark Damsel.
    "Good to see you," was all he could say.  
    Rebecca ran to him and hugged him for all she was worth.
Dark Damsel turned to leave.
    "Where are you going?" Rebecca asked.
    "I made a deal, and Dark Damsel always keeps her word."
    Rebecca and Ray's eyebrows went up as Dark Damsel put
her arm about Minx's waist and walked with her through the
back door.

     She was alive.  Dark Damsel looked through the fog back
to the Hotel Halcyon.  She had gone into the fire and had
not been burned.  She was alive.  That was all that mattered.
She laughed.
     "What's funny, D.D.?" asked Minx.
     "My tiger was right after all."
     Minx stared at her.  "Your tiger?"
     "He said 'What doesn't destroy me makes me stronger' and
he was right."
     "I thought Nietzsche said that," Minx laughed.
     Dark Damsel opened her saddlebag and pulled out her
stuffed tiger.  "I didn't know you'd met."
     Minx laughed again and climbed on board behind Dark 
Damsel.  She put her arms around the Damsel's waist.
Dark Damsel moved the hands up until they cupped her
breasts.  Then she put her own hands over them and pressed.
     "Told you, didn't I?" Minx whispered seductively in
Dark Damsel's ear before the Damsel started the cycle.
Dark Damsel grinned widely and they sped off into the fog.
     Rebecca watched from the back door of the Hotel Halcyon,
shaking her head in wonder.


Epilogue

     "Hi Uncle Teddy," Renee walked into the Commissioner's
office without knocking.  Commissioner Delcourt and Officer
Nasturant turned to greet her.
     "You look really great," Delcourt exclaimed.  There was
that certain look of wellbeing about her.  Then his smile
faded.  "Renee!  What happened to your eye?"  Delcourt 
demanded, moving over to take a better look.
     "Got mugged," Renee replied, looking glum.  She didn't
like the way Rebecca was looking at her.  Sort of appraisingly,
she thought.
     "Did you report it?" Delcourt wanted to know.
     "Didn't see anything.  He hit me from out of nowhere and
before I got up he was gone.  Only got my money, though.  He
dropped my purse half a block along.  So much for my self
defense classes."
     "Are you okay?" Rebecca wanted to know.
     "Oh, I'm fine now.  Just a little embarrassed."
     Rebecca chewed on her lip for a few moments.  "I have a
very good friend who teaches martial arts," she told Renee.
He's very, very good.  If you like, I'll introduce you."
     
     Rebecca and Renee walked into a small building and 
descended to the basement.  Through the door Renee could see
that the large room was set up as a dojo.  A tall man walked
over to them.
     "William, I have a friend, Renee Jimson, who would like
to talk with you about training."
     William's eyebrows rose slightly.  "It isn't often 
Rebecca brings anyone to me," he explained.  "You must be
special.  Come with me and we'll talk.  Then we'll see what
you have and where you want to go with it."
     Renee nodded.  William had a nice clear voice and
somehow she felt she could trust him.  It was a fine feeling
and that feeling flowed over and through her.  She felt 
wonderful inside and out.  Dark Damsel was alive and well,
Minx had helped see to that.  Renee, also, was alive and well.  
She turned her head and nodded her thanks to Rebecca.  It was 
good to have friends.