energy. They threw her on the floor and pulled off her biker boots so that she did not kick them. From there they brought the ropes, and Marcia tied her up while Julian and Kim sat astride. Even bound, she tried to bite until she was gagged. Only after this stopped the flow of dirty curses with which Angela showered her opponents.

Then, at the command of Mrs. Gardner, Roy and Angela were carried upstairs to the top floor of the house. They found themselves in a corridor, the entire length of which on both sides could be seen locked doors on the bolt. Slowly, the girl overseer with a stack in her hand and a bunch of keys on her belt walked slowly along the corridor, high heels of low shiny boots. She had luxurious blond hair, gathered in a long tail, reaching far below her strong ass, tightly covered with leather shorts.

- these two in free cameras! Shouted Mrs. Gardner, and the supervisor opened two doors.

Angela, still bound and gagged, was thrown into one of the cells and locked with a key. It was Roy’s turn. He saw a small room without light and with shutters closed. Then he hit the floor, the door slammed behind him, and he stayed in complete darkness.

He heard men's voices asking:

- Madam, please tell me what is going on? Please, Lady Mistress Savannah, what happened?

- Shut up! Cried Mrs. Gardner. "I'm here, do you hear?" Worry better about yourself and learn not to stick your nose at it!

The threat worked. Silence reigned immediately.

Mrs. Gardner must have retired with her retinue. Roy heard only the footsteps of one pair of legs shod in boots. Most likely, it was the guard Savannah, tirelessly bypassing the corridor during her duty.

Roy lay, not moving, on his back in complete darkness. It seemed to him that his head was split in half, the pain was unbearable, and cold sweat flowed down his forehead. The body was as cotton, dizzy. If he moved his hand or foot, he would have vomited. What will happen next? After all, they can not leave it here in this state?

Knocking heels boots approaching the camera. When, judging by the sound, the matron was supposed to level with his door, he shouted:

- Help! You are welcome... !

It seemed to him that he shouted, although the cry was more like a moan. But Lady Mistress Savannah heard him. There was a metallic knock and a clank, the pitch darkness was broken by a rectangle of light, appearing about five feet above the floor. Mrs. Savannah looked down at Roy through the viewing window that opened at the door.

“Please call Mrs. Gardner.” Tell her what's wrong with me. Please, I beg you

The face in the window disappeared. The guard, not answering him, went further along the corridor. The sound of her steps froze in the distance. But she did not close the window in the door. Roy circled in front of Roy’s eyes, but he could still see his camera.

The room was tiny, no more than ten feet long and eight feet wide. The window was shuttered outside. There was not only a bed in the cell, but no furniture at all. True, the walls and floor were clean. And the walls were not empty at all.

Still lying on the floor, Roy turned his head to the right. To his right he saw a full-length picture of Mrs. Gardner hanging framed on the wall. Mrs. Gardner was dressed in an officer's jacket and short skirt, with both hands she held a thick, heavy whip. Her legs, in knee-high boots, were spread apart. She stood firm in high heels, which, as Roy had thought, occupied most of the photograph, given his angle of view. Making a painful effort, Roy turned his head to the left. What he saw on the left wall made him sit down, crying out involuntarily.

He saw the emblem: a chain around the letter D, which, in turn, contained intertwined M and S. The emblem, six feet high, was painstakingly painted on the wall with brilliant gold paint. The symbol was accompanied by text written in strict capital letters:

NEVER FORGET!

and below was added:

DAVINIA, SUPREME MEMBER!

Blue and red lightning flashed in Roy’s head, accompanied by bouts of pain. Stomach cramping, nausea rising in my throat. Roy fell flat on the floor and covered his face with his palms.

*********************

“At first I heard about this from Mrs. Gardner, who called me the next morning,” Mr. Keen finished his story. “As you understand, I was terribly angry when I learned about Roy’s tricks.”

Victoria nodded knowingly, as not at all once throughout the final part of the story.

“I stated that I would fire him, but Mrs. Gardner wanted to leave him at Lockwood Lodge in order to teach him how to behave properly.” His head was cured - among the prisoners, fortunately, there was a doctor. Roy is now working for me and, I must say, excellently copes with her duties. He will guard women's boots until the last breath, trust me. Soon he has a wedding. Mrs. Gardner allowed him to marry.

- On Angela?

- No I do not think so. She did not forgive Roy that he tried to sneak off and throw her alone.

- What happened to Angela?

“She’s at Lockwood Lodge now, but not as a captive,” Mr. Keen said. “Mrs. Gardner is engaged in raising men, not young women.” In addition, Angela was a strong character. In fact

Mr. Keane went to the far corner of the exhibition room. In a corner in a row were several cardboard boxes of different lengths, he pointed to one of the longest boxes:

- I have here several special orders prepared for delivery. This one is at Lockwood Lodge, for the younger Mrs. Angela. In the end, Mrs. Gardner refused to attempt to break her and instead offered her a job at home.

“So now she orders her boots from you?” - exclaimed Victoria, - Let me have a look at them!

The box was opened and the wrapping paper was unwrapped: inside there were boots,

the whole knees of the woman who had put them on. The height of the tops of the front was slightly higher than the rear, which made it easy to bend the foot shoe. The boots had pointed socks and "little glasses" heels, high, slightly widening to the bottom. But attention primarily attracted the color of the varnished leather of the boots: they were stunning pale pink, and their skin reflected reflections of light, like polished metal. The DMS emblem was embossed on the outside of the tops of both boots.

“Please be careful, Miss,” Mr. Kin Victoria whispered, who, of course, could not help but take out her boots from the box. “I don’t think Miss Angela would be glad to find fingerprints on her boots.” This is a wonderful skin, but it is impossible to take it into the hands, leaving no traces on it. You see, inside the boots there are special ears for which they can be shod in the foot.

- In these boots there are such ears. They could be on this pair, - said Victoria, having looked at her new boots for the first time with some disappointment.

- Why didn't you make ears in my boots? She asked in an irritated voice, glancing at Mr. Keen with a meticulous eye.

- I, ya I don't know, missy

- Why didn't you guess? Is it not your direct duty to think about such trifles?

- Forgive me, miss. Listen: I will give you a special polishing compound for rubber boots that will give them such shine that you can always see the reflection of your face, - Mr. Keane faltered and hurried to the alcove, from where he came out with an aerosol can and a small round brush in his hands, - If you deign to sit down, missy

“No,” said Victoria firmly. She crossed her arms over her chest and, putting her weight on one leg, bent the other at the knee, putting it forward, - you come here. Polish my boots while I'm standing.

She, raising her head, looked into the space above Mr. Keen’s head, not noticing him, as if the service, which the service she required was in the order of things. Somewhere below there was a hiss of a canister that was spraying the polish, and Victoria felt the brush begin to rub her right boot. Mr. Keen carefully cleaned the bottom of the boot, first the toe, then rubbed the sides, gradually moved to raising the leg, and slowly began to climb up the bootleg. “Tell me another story,” Victoria demanded, not looking down.