When she heard a key turning in the lock of the door, Charlotte put promptly her hands behind her back, her bare shoulder resting against Josepha's right shoulder. The bearded man entered, holding a plate in hands, with bread and water.
"What's the menu today?" Charlotte asked with irony. "Hey, could we have another room with a chimney? It's cold here. And do I have to stay for months with my hands tied behind my back? It hurts."
"Oh, poor little thing!" The man mocked, putting the plate in front of the captives. He reached for the heavy, white chest of the French countess.
"I never touched a French countess! I'm going to warm you up with my hands, milady."
"It could be better if you untied my hands!" Charlotte whispered with an angelic smile.
"I can't do it," the man answered "but let me touch you."
Charlotte bit his hairy left wrist and brought her two hands up, clenched fists. She struck the man in the face and her knee struck him in the crotch. She finished him off with a kick in the face. The man fell down, unconscious. Charlotte took quickly his sword and she cut Josepha's bonds with it. She took the servant's free right hand:
"Stand up, Josepha. Let's go! I don't like this place."
The two escapees ran through the dark corridors to the upper floor.
"I must find some clothes! It's surely very cold outside." Charlotte said with a voice out of breath after running up the stairs.
"Where do you think you are going?" A woman's voice rumbled behind them.
They turned and saw their captor holding a sword. She was unmasked and they saw her cruelly lovely face with long black eyelashes, a long straight nose and a perfect mocking mouth. She was clad in a blouse with puffed sleeves, black pants and black waders.
"Give me your sword, dear Charlotte, and we'll stay good friends!"
Josepha uttered a cry of fright when Charlotte assumed a fighting position. The impetuous young woman attacked first, but her opponent knew how to defend.
Josepha watched the fighting skill of her naked mistress. Charlotte was splendid in the light of dawn. The French woman knew how to handle the sword, but her opponent was formidable. The young woman drew back under constant attacks from the beautiful Russian woman.
Charlotte was cornered against the wall when she saw her opponent fall forward. Josepha had snuck around and pushed her from behind. The woman tried to get up but Charlotte dropped her sword and jumped on her. She held her hands on the ground and she pressed her head under her buttocks, trapping her pointed nose between her fleshy thighs.
"Hold her feet!" She cried to Josepha, while the woman was struggling furiously. The servant came and helped her. The two fugitives were now holding their enemy firmly on the ground. Charlotte leaned with all her strength on her face to smother her under her crotch.
The woman resisted a moment before sagging, unconscious.
"I have clothes now!" Charlotte said triumphantly before stripping the clothes from her opponent. "Go back in our cell and get our ropes," she added ftoor Josepha.
Charlotte took great pleasure in tying her naked enemy's arms behind her back while her servant tied her feet. The woman regained consciousness while Charlotte was joining her bound wrists to her bound ankles.
"Push harder on her calves, Josepha," Charlotte cried," I want to see her fingers to touch her heels!"
"What are you doing, bitch?" The Russian woman grunted.
"I took your clothes for me… except this!"
Charlotte put her enemy's panties on her nose.
"Mfffffffffff!", the woman protested when the young countess pressed her bare crotch against her mouth, smothering the bare captive who struggled harder and opened her big mouth to breathe. It was what Charlotte was waiting for to shove the nasty gag in her mouth.
"Mffffffffffgfffft" the Russian woman protested louder but the sound was muffled by her gag.
"You didn't like my crotch, bitch?" Charlotte mocked while she crushed her cheeks between her tightened thighs.
"Mfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff" was the usual muffled answer.
Charlotte rose up and took the clothes. Three minutes after, she was dressed like a modern Russian Amazon.
"I feel better like this. Struggle my dear, we're gone!" She said to the captive rolling on the cold stone floor.
She took Josepha's right hand in her left hand, the right one holding the sword, and they went away, leaving their enemy to her futile struggles and grunts.
The fugitives ran through the forest and they ran and they ran. Charlotte had the idea of stealing horses but the team was being watched, and she gave up.
It was easier for her to run in the fields with pants and waders than for her maid in her long skirt, but she waited for her, even though she could run faster.
Charlotte knew that they had not a great chance of escaping. She had tied up her enemy very tight and the woman surely could not escape from her bonds but she was not hidden. Somebody would find her, maybe the guardian she had knocked out previously.
So she was not surprised when they heard male voices behind them maybe two hours after their escape from the castle.
"Faster, Josepha, faster!" She begged.
"I can't, milady! Lave me and go away."
"No way! We'll escape together or we'll fall captives again together!"
Then they heard the dogs barking.
Charlotte felt like a fox on the run. She was very active, and she could run for hours but Josepha was not able to.
"We must find a place to hide ourselves!" She said to her maid who answered, breathless.
"How? The dogs will find us."
"Then we'll fight!"
She turned and she saw her enemy on a black horse, followed by ten men holding daggers and ropes. The most furious was the woman she had knocked out.
The Russian woman was now clothed again, with new trousers and waders and a wool coat over her white shirt, her long black tresses flying behind her.
"Surrender yourself, Charlotte de Maupas!" She shouted.
"No way that I surrender! Come and take me if you can!" The proud woman answered, squaring off.
But before she could fight, a strong man jumped on her from behind while another one took Josepha in a tight embrace.
The other ones came with ropes and Charlotte felt her arms twisted behind her and rough rope bit in the soft flesh of her wrists.
The return to the castle was not glorious for the two brave women. The Russian woman was riding in head of the group. Charlotte and Josepha, both naked, were carried in the cold like bagged game, hanging by the feet and hands tied to long poles carried by men. Charlotte's treatment was more painful because her arms were twisted behind her back and pain was strong in her shoulders. Her heavy breasts swayed under her at every jolt. Josepha was a little less uncomfortable. She was tied up with her hands in front, her breasts did not move too much but her ass swayed in the cold air and the modest woman suffered more than her mistress of the indignity of her nudity.
The troupe walked to a well-trodden path and took the direction of the castle. The woman on her horse turned often to look with cruelty at Charlotte's painful expression. The brave young countess grimaced but did not moan, looking proudly at her enemy between the curtain of red hair that fell over her eyes. She could not protest because she was gagged again, with the same panties she had gagged her captor with! Josepha's fate was not better: she was gagged with the panties that her mistress and herself had had forced into in their mouths a few days ago, when their captivity began.
Sometimes the Russian woman stopped the walk to show her prizes to the farmers going to work in the fields.
The men were allowed to touch the bound captives while their holders held the poles higher. The two captives tried to escape to the touching but it was too much pain in their limbs and they had to accept that humiliation.
"Take off her gag," the Russian villainess laughed. "Maybe does she want to suck some cocks? He he …"
Charlotte felt humiliated enough to find the strength to protest, through her dry mouth.
"You are a woman! I know that we are your captives but how can you humiliate us like this?"
The woman smiled, her evil smile:
"Because I'm a woman and I know what humiliates a woman. You tied me up, you gagged me with my own panties. You'll pay for this! In one hour we'll pass by a village, you we'll be exposed on the main place while we'll take our lunch and you we'll be whipped in front of the peasants after. Put the gag back in her big mouth"
Charlotte grunted furiously when the panties took their place back in her mouth. She injured her wrists by pulling hardly the rope cutting in her flesh but she couldn't do anything and the terrible walk resumed.
In the village of small wooden houses, they called "isbas", her guards laid their poles on forked sticks, leaving the captives hanging in the middle of the square, exposed to the curiosity of the peasants. All wanted to touch what they saw, women as well as men!
Criminal women were often exposed like this in their walk to the "gulag" but never naked, never so cute women like Charlotte, never a brown woman like Josepha and over all never a French countess! Generally, the convicts were simply chained by hands over head and whipped with the Knout, the Russian typical whip.
The captives were submitted to two hours of exposition and rude touching, hanging from their poles, before their captors' return. Charlotte shivered when the men freed her from the pole for public whipping.
The Russian woman called the crowd to come and see the ordeal of "the French pig" for more humiliation. The men pushed their struggling captive under a horizontal post they joined her bound wrists to. They pulled on the rope until Charlotte's arms were vertical, nearly dislodged, then a man held her elbows until they touched, and another man tied them up like this, forcing the captive to bend her back more and more and to offer her helpess buttocks to the view of the crowd.
She grunted in her gag when her captor's hand grasped her mane of red hair. She grunted louder when the bearded guardian came with a knout and when the first blow snapped her poor ass.
One , two, three… Charlotte stopped counting after ten. Pain was horrible, and everywhere, as a lash crept between her thighs. She noticed that when she struggled harder in her bonds and grunted louder, the pitiless crowd laughed at her.
She thought that there were at least fifty blows on her red ass when the correction stopped. She was all in pain and semi-unconscious when the men took her off the post and carried her, her elbows still joined behind her, to the pole to hang her again.
Charlotte regained consciousness in the cold and she exchanged a sad look with the terrified Josepha.