" A While in Her Shoes" by Lady-Distracto

[esercito sconfitto]

A While in Her Shoes
by Lady-Distracto,









“...blast.” Nalen crouched down, on one knee, in the middle of the small flat.


One flat of many, and seemingly abandoned, as many others, in this equally quiet, unsettling neighbourhood of the city. It had been the perfect hiding place, or so her quarry had thought.


...or so Warden Nalen Kara, of Alyssa Prison, the Devil's Gullet, had thought, too. Before finding it abandoned.


“Blast.” Nalen snapped, tersely, standing up.


Straightening and smoothing out any rumples in her crisp, smart, tight-fitting, high-collared red uniform jacket, buttoned up over her crisp white shirt, and her equally form-fitting breeches. Scanning the small room for any signs, any clues, one hand on the hilt of her sword, strapped and hanging from her belt.


Her target seemed to have fled. Somehow, it must have learned she had been discovered. That Nalen and her detachment of guards were coming, closing in.


“Blast it.” Nalen growled, irritably, stalking across the room, tall, shiny black leather boots thudding on the old wooden floor.


They'd so nearly had her cornered! And now...she could be anywhere. Practically anywhere. For this particular quarry was particularly dangerous, in kind. Deceptive, cunning, underhanded...


Nalen paused, at a mirror hung by the door. Her guards were only waiting down the stairs, in the street outside but...it was funny, she hadn't remembered seeing it on the way in.


It was a small, portrait mirror, She was only able to see her face in it. Remarkably clear though. She was surprised such a poor dwelling would have such a good mirror.


“Hmmm...” Nalen tilted her head one way, then the other, lifting her chin slightly.


Good light on it, too. Able to catch her best profile, and the finer, more handsome qualities of her face, if she said so herself. Something about it struck her as odd, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Nalen rather enjoyed her own reflection, she could certainly point out nothing unpleasant about it, but-


Some speck of dust, in the unused apartment, got in her eye, and she rubbed at it with a gloved hand. So did the reflection.


...but not at the same time.


“Yoommpphhhmmpph!” Nalen blurted, startled, as an arm burst through the open panel, and not the mirror, in the rickety wall, and a hand clamped over her mouth, like a vice, and the face that wasn't hers smiled. “Hmmrrpphh!” She jerked back, and the other Nalen was pulled through the cheap panelled wall with her, still with one hand clamped over her mouth, as she fumbled for her sword.


The other Nalen was wearing only a short-sleeved tan top, and scuffed black breeches, but for all that, she was fast, strong...and looked just like her!


“Who's hunting who, Warden?” Her quarry sneered, as they tussled, in the narrow hall.


“Rmmphphhh!” Nalen blustered, defiantly, under the vice-like, stifling palm clinging to her face.


In the confusion, and the struggle, she and it smashed into the other wall behind them, and part of the ageing, poorly-built flat crashed down atop them. And then there was dust, and noise.


…


She burst out of the door, onto the outside stairwell, creaking and unstable. Shaking her head quickly, in a bit of a daze. Taking in the rest of the poor buildings on the narrow, crooked street. And the group of red-uniformed guardsmen and women waiting below.


“Warden!” A voice called, clipped, professional, but concerned. “What happened up there?”


One of the guards, stood waiting, patiently, in a line with the rest. Faces eager, but restrained.


“We heard all the noise, but then it got quiet and...well, your orders were to wait...” Another guardswoman cleared her throat, awkwardly.


She descended the stairs, quickly, almost tripping over the sword hanging from her belt, tangling it in her legs in her hurry.


“She was in there!” She snapped, a touch breathless, as she struggled to do up the top buttons of her collared shirt, with one hand, and hold the sword out of the way with the other. “We fought, but she brought down the flat on our heads, and in the confusion, escaped!” She added, severely.


“The doppelgänger?” One of the guards asked, brow furrowed, as she reached the street. “We haven't seen anyone-”


“Of course you idiots! She looked just like me! And you didn't see her because she didn't want to be seen!” She snapped. “Damn...I mean, blast her, she even stole my jacket! Plainly she meant to capture me and steal my uniform, to complete her disguise, and evade us easily. But now we know she's out there, looking like me, with only a stolen jacket! So I want you all to-” She started, waving a hand dramatically.


“But Warden, if she can disguise herself as anyone...” Another guard started, hesitantly.


“Whose guise would better let her get out of this trap?!” She yelled. “She is dangerous, and with my appearance, who knows what foul wrongs and abuses she might commit! So listen up you lot, I need you to spread out around the neighbourhood. Watch all the exits, all the ways out, for someone who looks like me, with my stolen jacket!”


“...er...” The guards murmured, looking to one another, doubtfully. “And you're...uh...going alone, Warden?”


“Are you questioning orders?!” She barked, storming up to them.


“No, it's just...what if we see you coming, and...er...it's not you?” A guard fumbled, in hesitantly.


“Or if it is you...but we're not sure it is!” Another guardswoman added.


“Are you saying you wouldn't recognise your own commander?!” She bellowed, in their faces. “Get moving!”


The guards shared a last worried look, and shuffled off, separating, in pairs, down alleys and corners as they went.


“...that's definitely her anyway...” She heard one of the guards mutter to another, moodily.


When they were all gone, she smiled to herself, and clapped her hands together, satisfied. She turned and went back up the stairs, into the ruined flat. Her boots kicked up dust and splinters as she picked her way through the wreckage in the doorway, and on into the room proper.


She wasn't sure she'd quite got the fit right. The boots felt too tight. But then, so did the breeches, hugging her wide hips, and thighs tightly. And the shirt, so stiff and stifling, not comfortable at all. The long, clinging sleeves, the starched, puffy shoulders. It wasn't her sort of thing at all. So constraining.


But then...she supposed...perhaps that was the point. Perhaps her prey really did enjoy that sort of thing.


“HRHRRMMPPHH! MMPHHRRMMPHH HMMMPPHH!” Nalen Kara thrashed about, madly, on the floor.


Nalen had been divested of her clothes. Left only in her matching, striking, silky red undergarments. A front and back laced bustier, and...frilly red bloomers. She'd never have guessed.


Obviously, she had needed the clothes, to complete her disguise. It was one thing to look like a person, on a skin level...but the clothes make the man, or woman, in this case. And her abilities did not stretch to clothing.


The warden was also tightly bound, all trussed up, safe and snug. Ball-tied, using the torn remnants of her jacket. Her legs bent double, knees pressed up to her chest. Arms pinned together behind her back. More strips of sturdy cloth in knotted bands around her arms, chest, waist, legs, body.


“Well? Do you enjoy that? Being restrained, tightly, securely, subdued?” She asked, standing over her helpless captive. “Your clothes say a lot about you, you know. I rather think you like that feeling.” She ran her hands down her rather impressive chest, packed under the stiff shirt, down her hips, where it was tucked into the wide, stiff belt.


“NNRRMMPPHH!” Nalen glowered up at her, jerking weakly about, in her bonds. “MRMRMRNNNPPH HHNNMRMMPH!” She blustered, under her gag.


The gag too was fashioned from torn strips of the Warden's former jacket. Her mouth positively bulged, cheeks packed to bursting with wadded rags, and her plump pouting lips, parted by very thick, twisted bands of the same red cloth, knotted very tightly behind her head, barely containing the stuffing poking out around it.


“If you so delight in the feeling of restraint, all the time, as your clothing suggests, then I am happy to tell you I shall be able to provide for you in that respect...mmmm...indefinitely.” She stooped down, resting her elbows on her knees. “Obviously it wouldn't do to have you reappear any time soon, Warden. If at all.” She shrugged, patting the top of Nalen's styled hair, playfully.


“NNRRMMPPHH!” Nalen protested, eyes widening in alarm.


“No, far better that the 'other' Nalen simply..vanish, without a trace.” She chuckled, trailing a gloved hand down Nalen's face, and hooking a finger under the tight, thick gag cleaving her lips. “After all, she could be anyone, anywhere, no? Far simpler if there is only 'one' Warden Nalen Kara, around these parts. And I suppose I shall just have to play that role.” She wrenched up Nalen's face, by her gag, grinning down at her.


“MMRMRRPPHH!” Nalen protested, stubbornly. “RMRMPHPHMMHHGGMMHHPH!” She tried to shake her head, pull away, uselessly.


“Don't you worry.” She stood up, letting Nalen's head flop back down onto the floor, with a quiet thud. “People like me have countless little hiding places, all over. We have to. I'll make sure you're safely tucked away in one of them.” She reached down, gripping some of the ropes around Nalen's waist, and started to drag her across the floor.


“NNRNRRMMPPH!” Nalen gasped, shocked. “NNRRMMPPHH! NNNRRMMPHH, RRDRRMMPHH!” She demanded, shaking her head frantically, struggling under her bonds, to no avail.


“I'll check in on you now and then, of course. It's been some time since I had a new toy.” She smirked, snatching up and unfurling a sack, as she dragged Nalen closer. “But not too often.”


“HHRRMMPHH!” Nalen grunted, defiantly, as she was reluctantly shoved into the sack.


“I might even see about altering your taste in 'fashion'.” She sniggered, pulling the sack up over Nalen's body, and hoisting her up.


“HHRRMMPPHH!” Nalen spat, glaring at her, for a moment. “Wrrmmhhph...WRRMMPHH, NMMPPHH!” She blurted, as she lifted the sack over her head and secured it tightly shut.


“I don't fancy walking a mile in these boots, that's all.” She chuckled, and gave the struggling, mumbling sack a kick.