Determined to stay one step ahead of the Capital City’s criminal element, O-Girl decides to pay an unannounced visit to the recently paroled Lady Lovelace and her Lovelace College for Girls, a dubious preparatory school that in the past educated young ladies in the devious arts of bondage and crime. But now, with the foiled Apparel Obsessia caper behind them, Lady Lovelace and her institue for higher learning are supposedly reformed.
O-Girl, however, suspects otherwise. Intent on making sure that Lady Lovelace and her bevy of co-eds are not intent on future misdeeds, O-Girl sneaks in a window and promptly finds a secret passage.
“Mmmm. I wonder what they are hiding in here?” she muses aloud. Her suspicions piqued, she slinks down the darkened corridor to discover whether it holds any ilicit secrets, stepping softly and carefully so as not to make any noise. As she advances cautiously, she is unaware of how unwittingly provocative her movements are; as she bends over to peer down the hallway and perk up her ears, her firm apple-perfect bottom juts out behind her, offering itself to the figure that, unbeknownest to her, is creeping up behind her in the shadows.
Her stalker jabs a fork into O-Girl’s left buttock.
“Ow!” yelps the purple-clad crimefightress, spinning around to see Lady Lovelace smiling wickedly and holding a fork. “What have you done?!” demands O-Girl, unaware that Lady Lovelace’s star student, Lauren, is now sneaking up on her from the other side.
“Why, I stuck a fork in you, my dear O-Girl,” says Lady Lovelace. From behind her, Lauren jabs another fork into O-Girl’s shapely rear, this time on her other buttock, causing O-Girl to jump with a yelp and look over her shoulder at her second assailant.
“And so did I!” boasts Lauren.
“Good girl!” praises Lady Lovelace.
“But . . . why?” asks O-Girl, perplexed as an odd feeling washes over her.
“Because, dearie, you are quite done . . . for!” replies Lady Lovelace. She laughs together with Lauren.
“Oh! Whatever do you mean?!”
“You see, O-Girl, our survelliance cameras picked you up just as I was planning my next Home Economics class: a lesson on dinner party preparation,” explains Lady Lovelace. “This surprise appearance of yours is therefore most serendipitous, for, you see, I was at quite a loss as to what to do to make today’s class entertaining. But then the sight of your delicious voluptousness gave me a most delectable idea. So I asked Lauren to dip these forks in a potent paralyzing poison and join me for a little bush hunt.”
“And that’s how we bagged you!” blurts in Lauren with pride.
“I . . . can . . . barely . . . move!”
Lauren and Lady Lovelace laugh at O-Girl’s predicament. “I’m not surprised, O-Girl! This is potent paralyzing poison. A jab with a pointy object like a fork is enough to get it through your pantyhosed derriere and into your bloodstream. Soon, you won’t be able to move a muscle.”
“And . . . then . . . what?!”
“Oh, and then I am counting on you to stay for dinner. You see, O-Girl, I’ve already put you down for tonight’s dinner party . . . as the main course!”
Lady Lovelace and Lauren break out into more laughter. O-Girl can now only move her eyes.
“Lauren, be a sweetheart and give me a hand,” says Lady Lovelace. They take hold of the still O-Girl and begin to pose her. “Legs shoulder-width apart, I think,” says Lady Lovelace as she and Lauren reposition O-Girl’s legs. “Hands on hips, like so.” As they do as they wish with her, O-Girl helplessly looks on, moving her eyes from one of her handlers to the other as they manipulate her body. Lady Lovelace and Lauren step back to admire their handy work.
“What do you think?” asks Lady Lovelace.
“Hmmmm,” ponders Luaren, “Something is missing.”
“Yes, you are quite right.” They look at the paralyzed O-Girl critically for a moment, and then Lady Lovelace says, “Oh, I know!” She walks up to O-Girl and uses her fingers to push up the corner’s of the hapless heroines mouth, making her smile involuntarily. Then she steps back to get a good look at her. The smiling O-Girl’s eyes move from one of her observers to the other.
“Perfect!” says Lauren.
“You see, Lauren, presentation is everything!”
“That was fun! Like I was playing with a life-sized O-Girl doll, posing her like a storefront dummy!”
“Yes, and this particular storefront dummy was kind enough to unwittingly step right onto our dumb waiter.” Lady Lovelace hits an intercom button on the wall and speaks into it. “Girls, I have quite a surprise catch for today’s Home Economics class. Get the grill ready and I’ll send down our mouthwatering main ingredient. Make sure you tie her down tightly.”
“What are we going to do with her?” asks Lauren excitedly.
“I’ve got a very special recipe in mind,” says Lady Lovelace, giving O-Girl a spank on her rear. She hits another button and the dumb waiter begins to lower the captured crimefightress. “One Grade A rump roast headed your way!” she calls into the intercom.
Lauren and Lady Lovelace laugh and point at the descending O-Girl, whose eyes dart about nervously.