A Tangled Web

Disclaimer

Anyone who knows anything about the British presence in the Far East at the turn of the twentieth century will soon realise that I know practically nothing. The following story is pure fantasy and has as much historical and geographical accuracy as, for example, Pirates of the Caribbean, possibly less.

So, where is it based? Hong Kong? Malaya? Singapore? Well, none of the above, it's just somewhere 'east of Suez, where the best is like the worst'.

If you're one of those who find historical bunkum off putting, who can't or won't accept it for the twaddle it is, then please don't bother contacting me to point out that, for example, that my Chinese characters would speak Cantonese, not Mandarin because (a) I've already warned you and (b) I'm not that interested.

And then, well, this really isn't a BDSM story. At the centre there's a love affair with strong D/s overtones and there's quite a bit of non-consensual sex, some of it rather rough. I'm posting it here because this is where I post and it's where my fans know where to find me.

Dedication

This story is gratefully dedicated to my two greatest assets,

Estragon - the ruthless eliminator of the cliché and punctuator in chief who has put much unsung effort into making this as good as it can be.

OneWhoAdores who has pulled me out of more plot holes than I deserve and whose moral compass always points due north.

Without either of them this tale would never have been told.

Thanks guys

And so, on with the story...

Preamble

The sweat fell down in rivers as Jenny McTavish, a young journalist working for the Gotham Times, pushed on through the jungle. Was she letting herself get carried away, in more senses than one, or was she onto the scoop of her young lifetime? While on a stop-over in the Far East she had approached in a bar by someone with a story, and not just any old story. It would seem that, living close by, there was a Western-born woman who had been involved in the rebellion back in the twenties. Now, fifty years later, if Jenny was interested, she was willing to tell her story.

Was Jenny interested? Of course she was! But first she had to get properly briefed. She dashed back to the local office and spent the day on the phone. Pulling every favour she had owing to her and making promises well above and beyond what she would normally do, she managed to get the Gotham archivist to search their library and send her the relevant cuttings using their new fangled fax machine. Did this woman, this Jun-Nui, really know the legendary Madam Hong? If so, this was going to be something very special and, pertinently, something to show all those male chauvinist bastards that the girls could play just as tough as the boys.

The following morning, at the crack of dawn, she had been met by a guide who led her, mounted on a mule, deep into the jungle. The guide insisted that Jenny should be blindfolded so all she could do was hang on to her mule to stop herself from falling. The farther they went the more they climbed until, high in the hills, the guide told her that she could remove the blindfold. They had reached a house and there, on the stoop, was an elderly woman. Her hair, although grey, was fair and her facial structure was European, not eastern. Her name might be Chinese but this was no Chinese woman, clearly a Westerner.

"Jun-Nui Hong?" Jenny enquired.

"That's me," the woman replied in perfect English. "And you must be Jenny. I hope your journey hasn't been too hard. Look, it's far too hot to go inside. Why don't we talk out here?"

"Is it true?" Jenny couldn’t hold herself back. "Did you really know Madam Hong? She's bit of a heroine of mine."

"I'm surprised an American woman has even heard of her. An obscure rebel in an obscure war."

"Hardly 'obscure'," Jenny retorted. "She's an important icon of the modern feminist movement. That's why it's important that the rest of the world hears her story."

"An important icon of the modern feminist movement, eh?"

"Because she fought for sisterhood, she fought for freedom," Jenny insisted.

"Yes, she did," Jun-Nui conceded, "but let’s not rush things. Sit down and I'll fetch you a drink. It's quite a long story."

Jun-Nui went to fetch the drinks and Jenny sat herself down, pulled out her notebook and turned to a fresh page.

"So what's a European woman doing out here? You are European, aren't you?" Jenny asked once Jun-Nui had returned, handed Jenny her drink and sat down beside her.

"Ah, that's all part of the story. I came out East in 1920. I wasn't Jun-Nui back then, my name was Vera, Vera Talisker..."

Prologue - 1919 - the Officers' Mess, somewhere in a far flung outpost of the British Empire.

"Ah, Jenkins. Glad you could come, old boy." Colonel Fortesque welcomed his junior officer to the bar at the mess. "Pink gin, isn't it?" He nodded at the steward, who reached for the optics and started to mix the drink. Once the drink was poured they both raised their glasses to the portrait of King George that hung over the bar. As colonial administrators out in the tropics it was important not to let standards slip even if the aftermath of the recent war in Europe had left the world going to rack and ruin.

"That new girl, the one in the typing pool," Colonel Fortesque continued, "bit of a trouble maker, I gather."

"Yes, slipped past the vetting, I'm afraid," Jenkins replied. "I don't know what the Foreign Office is coming to. Damn girl's a suffragette, keeps banging on about votes for women and other such nonsense. She's as bad as those Pankhurst girls back home.  I'm having quite a time maintaining discipline."

"Can't have that. Bloody bolshies! Look what they've done in Russia. Can't we give her the push?"

"Turns out she's related to Lord Harbury, apple of his eye or some such," Jenkins said with a sigh. "Can't make a move without upsetting the powers that be."

"So, damned if we do, damned if we don't. Bit of a puzzler, this one. Let me think it over for a while. See if I can come up with anything."

"Thank you, thank you, Sir," Jenkins said, relieved that the problem was no longer his.

*****

Vera Talisker had all the arrogance that goes with a good education wasted. Her mother had died when she was still a baby and her father, Lord Talisker, had kept her with him as he traipsed around the Far East in his role as trouble-shooter for the Foreign Office. He had been far too busy to attend to her upbringing personally and her care had almost entirely been delegated to her Chinese nurse. Here she had acquired what little education she had got as well as a fluency in Mandarin and some obscure dialects that would have amazed her father. At thirteen she had been packed off to Cheltenham Ladies' College, where she had spent most of her time getting into trouble. At the age of sixteen she had read about the suffragettes and, with all the passion of a rebellious teenager, had taken the cause to heart. Here was an excuse for all her troubles; it wasn't laziness, it wasn't the product of parental neglect blended with parental indulgence, it was men!

By the time she was eighteen, Lord Talisker, at his wits' end, had appealed to his brother in law, Lord Harbury, for help with dealing with Vera's increasingly embarrassing outbursts. Between them they had come up with a scheme. Vera was to enroll in the Foreign Office and he would ensure she got an interesting posting. With her head full of visions of exciting freedom, Vera had agreed instantly and booked her P&O tickets with glee. She was back, back to the haunts of her childhood, back to the Far East.

As with so many things, when she arrived the reality failed to live up to expectations. Vera was assigned to the typing pool where she spent her day on the most menial of clerical duties, sifting through dull reports of dull meetings about dull nothings. Furthermore she found that, as a single woman, she was strictly confined to the compound unless she found a suitable chaperone and, except for the heat, she might as well be back in Surrey. The high spot of the week was the regimental dance where she would be pestered by spotty young officers desperate for female company. As if she'd stoop so low!

Then, one day, came the summons. She was required in the Colonel's office, right away.

*****

"Ah, Vera," Colonel Fortesque said as the young woman was shown into his office, "thank you for coming."

"I didn't think I had much choice in the matter, seeing as how it was a direct order," Vera replied curtly.

"Well, that's as may be," Colonel Fortesque continued brusquely, not used to back-talk. "Now take a seat." He picked up a file and flicked through it. "I gather you're some kind of suffragette, some kind of Bolshevik, that you consider mere typing to be somehow beneath you."

"It's not like that... " Vera spluttered, appalled at the demonisation of her politics.

"I should damn well hope not. Our duty is to serve King and Country in whatever way we're asked to; do I make myself quite clear?" Colonel Fortesque was suddenly quite angry.

"Of course, sir," Vera replied meekly. She knew better than to argue the toss here.

"However, I might just have a solution to both our problems."

"Problems, sir?"

"Yes, problems. You think the typing pool is beneath you; I don't want some sort of bolshie troublemaker in my midst. I can't sack you, although heaven knows I'd love to, so I'm going to reassign you. Something a bit more... interesting. I gather you speak Mandarin."

"Yes, sir. My nurse was Chinese and I picked it up from her," Vera replied, wondering where this was going.

"Good. In that case I'm going to send you out on a fact-finding mission. There's a group setting up in town that's causing HMG some concern and we need to find out everything we can about them. Of course we have plenty of trained experts who I would normally call on but in this case... well, let's just say that extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures."

"You want me to be a spy?" Vera asked in amazement.

"A spy! Certainly not! HMG does not, repeat not, involve itself in espionage. It's simply not done," Colonel Fortesque replied sternly. "On the other hand if HMG is to act on information received then our job is to gather information for it to receive. We do not spy; we gather information. Do I make myself quite clear?"

"Yes, sir, very clear sir." Vera was agog. "But why me? Why would you trust a, what was it you called me, a 'bolshie trouble maker' like myself to do something like this? First you say you'd like to sack me and now you want me to... to...." Vera wasn't quite sure how to finish the sentence.

"Because you're the only Mandarin speaking woman I've got and, whatever your rather juvenile politics, I'd like to believe you'll put King and Country first, or am I wrong? "

"No, sir. Of course not."

"Very well then. Now here's what I need you to do. We're pretty sure these troublemakers are gathering in a bar in the docklands area. It's slant eye, of course, but you shouldn't have too many problems."

"You want me to go to a bar, a Chinese bar, a bar down in the docklands, unaccompanied." For all that Vera thought that she was the modern miss this was unheard-of. "What sort of woman do you think I am?"

"One that obeys orders!" Colonel Fortesque barked. "Anyway it's women only. That's the point, that's why I've got to send you. Go down there and talk your bolshie politics and you'll fit right in. Then find out who the ringleaders are, what they're planning and maybe, if you're a good girl on this one, I'll see what I can do about making your re-assignment permanent. Do you think you can manage that?"

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I won't let you down," Vera said enthusiastically.

"Right, here's the file. I can't let you take it out of this office so you had best sit over there whilst you read it. Don't bother returning to the typing pool afterwards; I've already informed Mrs. Wilkins that you'll be reporting directly to me, for a day or two at least." Colonel Fortesque indicated a spare desk in the corner of his office and Vera took the proffered file and went over to the desk, sat down and started browse through it. Whilst she did so, Colonel Fortesque watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was a pretty little thing with a well-turned pair of ankles but he really couldn't be doing with her politics. As far as he was concerned women belonged in the bedroom, the kitchen or the nursery; anywhere else was an abomination. Ever since the war they had got above themselves and only last year they had been granted the right to vote, well, some of them had. If this carried on, next they'd be drinking at the bar of the golf club. Whatever was the world coming to?

He knew that sending her to the Pussy Cat Club was sending her into danger but it did rather solve all his problems. If she made it, well, he'd get the information that Whitehall were demanding so vocally. If she didn't he'd still be seen as having made the effort and he'd be rid of a major source of trouble in the ranks. How could this possibly go wrong?

******

Vera was as intrigued as she was excited. This was beyond her wildest dreams; at last she was going to escape the drudgery of the typing pool, at last someone had realized her potential. This was the excitement, the adventure she craved. In her mind she already saw herself as the femme fatale, going deep undercover to secure dark secrets that would, one day, be the saving of the empire. She imagined herself receiving her first medal from the King, under an assumed name of course, for bravery above and beyond the call of duty. She read through the file again and again but, at the end of the day, there wasn't much in it. There seemed to be some group of women who were causing trouble, stirring up unrest and preaching freedom from British rule. Apparently a known meeting place was The Pussy Cat Club deep in the docklands but all attempts to get any further had been stalled by the simple problem that all Colonel Fortesque's agents were male. Almost giddy from an over-inflated sense of self-importance, Vera just knew that this was the job for her. She wouldn't let them down; neither King nor Country would find her wanting.

It was all very different when, in the early evening, Vera nervously made her way through the streets towards the docklands. Despite her 'modern' outlook it still felt deeply wrong to be going out alone, especially to a bar in the wrong part of town. It wasn't long before she was the only 'round eye' on the streets and an urchin called out from the gutter asking what a 'white girl' was doing in this part of town. Trying to attract as little attention as possible she pressed on deeper and deeper into the docklands.

Finding the Pussy Cat Club was none too easy; it lay down a side alley and had only the smallest sign outside. The door was closed but, as she watched from the other side of the street, she saw two women approach and, after being scrutinized through a small shutter in the door, they were allowed entry. Struggling with her nerves she went over and knocked. The shutter in the door slid back and two eyes stared out.

"What do you want?"

"Err... I was told this was a good place to get a drink," Vera tried.

"This is a Chinese place. Go away, round eye."

"But... but...." Vera stuttered as the window slammed shut again, leaving Vera feeling more than a bit stupid. Of course it wouldn't be that easy, she'd have to find some ruse, some ploy, some reason to get inside. Not sure what to do next Vera just stood there and she was still pondering what to do when a tall elegant woman approached. Just behind her stood four female guards dressed in black and wearing long daggers, or possibly short swords, in their belts. The woman looked down at Vera and her eyes seemed to bore into her.

"My, my, my, someone is in the wrong part of town. What brings a round eye down here? " she asked, in perfect English.

"I was told... I was told this was a good place to get a drink." Suddenly Vera's cover story seemed very thin.

"Go home, round eye. Go back to your husband," the woman said sternly.

"I haven't got a husband," Vera replied. "I don't need one."

"You don't need a husband? Well, well, well, so you thought you'd come down here, all alone and in the wrong part of town. Go home, go home little girl."

"But I need... I need..." Vera started before she realised what she was saying.

"What do you need? Tell me, tell me what brings you here."

"No one in the compound understands." Vera decided to play the rebel card. "They think I should settle down, find a husband, just be a good little wife. I can't do that, I can't, I can't. I'm a woman and I want to be all that a woman can be."

"And you think you'll find that here? Was that what you were told?"

"Please, let me come in. I'm one of you, really I am." Vera sounded as desperate as she felt.

Xui-Li Hong took a long hard look at the girl, for that was all she was, that was standing before her. She must have sought the bar out; there was no way a round eye girl would be out alone in this part of town otherwise. What on earth could she want and why did she seem so desperate? Deeply suspicious of her motives, Xui-Li decided to have a little fun, to play a game with her, to see just how desperate she was. If this girl was to gain entry she would have to pay for it and pay with her dignity; heaven knows the Chinese community had had to grovel before the English interlopers often enough, here was the chance for a little revenge and a little fun in the meantime. She'd see just how far she could go before the girl cried off, before she ran away with her tail between her legs. She wouldn't actually hurt the girl, well, not much, but it would be nice to see a round eye lose out for once.

"So you think you're 'one of us'?" she said, talking as haughtily as possible. "Maybe if you ask nicely, maybe if you beg. On your knees, round eye!"

Vera was completely taken aback, but there was an air of menace coming from the guards and she was in far too deep to back out now.

"On... on my knees? Here, here in the alleyway?" Vera asked as she looked around her. Xui-Li merely nodded.

Despite the enormity of what she was demanding Vera realized that without this woman's help there was no way she would gain entrance into the club and to deny her would be to have to return a failure, confirming Colonel Fortesque's low opinion. Feeling that she was being brave and daring she decided to play along. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gingerly lowered herself to her knees. An earlier shower of rain had left the streets puddled with water and the gutter ran foul so there was no way she was going to avoid ruining her best pair of stockings.

"Please... please..." she began.

"You address me as Madam Hong," Xui-Li snarled. "Because of your impertinence, your lack of respect, you're going to lie on your belly. Now get down in the gutter like the round eye filth you are." Xui-Li watched as the girl hesitated; had she already found her limits? It seemed that the English overlords had no taste for the gutter.

For Vera this was nearly all too much but she had burnt all her bridges and, if she backed out now she would never get in, the only option was to swallow her pride and do as she was told. She leaned forward and lowered herself down until she was lying full length on the ground. She shivered as the water seeped though her clothes and onto her skin; it wasn't only her stockings that were ruined now, her dress, even her undergarments were fast getting soaked by the foul liquids that the rain had washed into the street. Desperately she sought out the words. Madam Hong had ordered her to beg and had called her names.

"Please, Madam Hong, this round eye filth begs to be allows in your club," she tried.

"And if I let you in will you do exactly as you're told?" Madam Hong stood, her toes just in front of Vera's eyes.

"Yes, yes, of course, Madam Hong."

"Very sweet, very sweet indeed. Maybe I will buy you a drink," Xui-Li laughed as she made some signal to her guards and turned towards the door, which was instantly opened. As she swept into the club the guards grabbed Vera by the arms and lifted her up, frogmarching her inside. Xui-Li obviously had some importance, as she was bustled straight through to a semi private area at the back of the club. Her coat was removed and she sat down on a long couch. Vera, held by a guard at either side, stood in front of her.

Xui-Li was all too aware of how to humble and humiliate; she had suffered both many times at the hands of the English. This girl before her had already lost most of her pride but she still had some dignity; that would be next to go. Still distrusting the girl's motives, Xui-Li moved on to the next step. She turned towards Vera. "You had best strip, my dear; we can't have you lounging around in filthy rags like these."

"What, here?" Vera asked, amazed. "But... but...."

"In my club you obey my orders," Xui-Li snapped. "I seem to remember you agreeing to that - or maybe you'd like to be thrown back in the gutter where you belong."

Vera took off her hat, shoes and coat, that was easy enough, but she was being watched with an air of anticipation by not just Madam Hong but the guards as well. Her nerve nearly cracked but, as she looked around for an escape she realised she had painted herself into a corner; she had no option but to continue.

"Come along now," Xui-Lig ordered, "or perhaps you need some assistance?"

"No... no... I'll do it." Vera reached for the buttons of her dress and started to undo them. In the quiet little alcove you could have heard a pin drop, all eyes were firmly fixed on her. Taking her courage in both hands she peeled off her dress to expose her corset, chemise and bloomers underneath. She handed the dress to one of the guards who whipped it away. Blushing deeply from being so exposed in front of all these strangers, she unfastened her corset and handed it over. Her ruined stockings followed and now her modesty was protected by the light silk of her chemise and bloomers. She crossed her hands over her chest; surely this was enough.

"Very pretty, very pretty indeed but if you're going to prove you're worthy of my time then the rest will have to go."

"I can't. Please, I can't." Tears started in Vera's eyes as an overwhelming feeling of exposure gripped her. "Please, Madam Hong, please leave me some modesty," Vera pleaded.

"Modesty, there's no modesty due to your sort, not in my club anyway. If you're not going to do as you're told we'll have to give you a little assistance." Xui-Li motioned to one of the guards who retrieved the knife from her belt and, in one swift movement grabbed the top of the chemise and slashed it open, exposing Vera to the waist.  Vera tried again to cover herself with her arms but she was held too strongly and, with no further ceremony the knife made short work of the rest of her clothes and they were ripped from her leaving her open and naked for all to see. Firm hands still gripped her arms and her squirming was in vain.

"There, that's better," Xui-Li said, looking her up and down. She was actually quite impressed; the girl had more guts than she had, at first, expected. Either that or her motives for wanting to be inside the club had to quite extreme. Whilst she knew she was being a heartless bully, she was intrigued by what would push this slip of a thing so far and how much further she could go. Anyway she would make sure the girl didn't come to any real harm, which was saying a lot, seeing which part of town she'd wandered into. "Now why don't you come and kneel down next to me and we'll have a drink and a chat," she continued.

Vera didn't have any choice in the matter. She was forced to her knees by the guards before they retreated and stood back, watching closely. Almost immediately, and without any apparent orders being given, a waitress arrived with a bottle of rice wine and two glasses. She put them on the table that lay between the Xui-Li and Vera, bowed gracefully and left.

"Now then, my name is Xui-Li. You may call me that, now that we're being informal; we'll save the Madam Hong for other, more formal, occasions," Xui-Li said, suddenly friendly, as she poured out the drinks. "What is your name and what brings you to my club?"

"I'm called Vera. I heard it was a good place for a drink." Vera sniffed back her tears and stuck to her cover story, however flimsy.

"Nonsense," Xui-Li retorted. "A round eye girl like you, all on her own, drinking in a slant eye bar. You're not just here for a drink. You'll have to do better than that."

"I heard... I heard..." Vera stuttered, thinking wildly. Forced to come up with something, and fast, she settled on an approximation of the truth. "I'd heard that the people here... that they believe in the emancipation of the oppressed classes. I... I... I was a member of the WSPU. I believe in the struggle."

"What would a rich little English girl like you know about 'the struggle'?" Xui-Li said as soon as she had stopped laughing. "And what on earth is the WSPU?"

"The Women's Social and Political Union," Vera said rather haughtily. "It was a group of suffragettes, struggling together to bring emancipation to women."

"Spoiled little brat, shouting the odds, playing at being a grown up! Oh, have you come to the wrong club!" Xui-Li laughed. "Now, this is not the time or the place for politics, that is work and this club is for pleasure. Drink your wine and relax."

Vera shivered slightly but had no other option than to comply. She glanced around, the club was quite full but they had a certain amount of privacy here in Madam Hong's alcove. To her surprise no one seemed to be staring at her nakedness.

For her part Xui-Li looked down at the naked girl shivering at her feet. There was something very wrong here; she didn't for one moment believe the tale about wanting to join in 'the struggle'. And yet she had seemed all too eager to debase herself, making only the feeblest of protests at treatment that would have had others running a mile. Xui-Li was aware that she had many enemies but surely no one would be dumb enough to send in this little chit of a girl as a spy, would they? 

Still, whatever the girl's motives, there was plenty of fun to be had here. It would do the girls good to see this, to see the English being made fools of, to see a round eye stripped naked and bowing before them for a change. As for the spy theory, well, she'd drop a few red herrings along the way and see what happened. Sometimes it's good to know what the opposition thinks you're planning.

At that point another woman approached and bowed her head to Xui-Li.

"Greetings, Xui-Li," she said. "I have news from up-river and the cadre wish to know details of tomorrow’s meeting."

"Greetings Mei-Xing. News and details will have to wait for a more auspicious time." Xui-Li's eyes flicked to Vera who had perked up and was visibly taking interest in the exchange. "Come sit for a while." Xui-Li motioned to a serving girl who hurried off and fetched another glass.

"So, you've found yourself a round eye," Mei-Xing said conversationally as she sat down. "Where did you pick this one up?"

"I found her lying in the gutter with the rest of the filth. She has ideas far above her station but I took pity on her and brought her in."

"And do you plan to keep her, she's hardly one of us," Mei-Xing commented.

"I haven't decided yet," Xui-Li replied. "It would appear that our young friend would like to join the 'struggle', as she put it. I'm just testing her resolve."

"A round eye? Join the struggle?" Mei-Xing snorted. "Over my dead body."

"I will decide her fate," Xui-Li retorted. "May I remind you who's in charge here?"

"Mistresses." A serving girl approached and bowed respectfully. "The games... we are ready to begin."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Mei-Xing. "There's a new girl in town. They say she's rather good. I may have a little wager."

"I know your 'little wagers'," laughed Xui-Li. She turned to the serving girl. "Would you be so kind as to fetch me a leash; you know the sort."

The serving girl hurried off and returned moments later with a leather leash and, more significantly, a collar attached to the end of it. Horrified Vera realized just what Xui-Li had in store for her.

"Please, please, Madam Hong!" she exclaimed. "Please don't make me wear that. Please leave me some dignity."

"Silence, little Jun-Nui, for that is what I am going to call you. You begged for admittance, you agreed my terms. How very British to break your word now, to make such a fuss when things aren't quite what you want." Xui-Li spoke as if to a little child, with patience but an undertone that patience had its limits. Vera was genuinely scared. She was in far, far deeper than she'd ever imagined and this woman, this tyrant, was forcing her into ever more degrading positions. Naked in this quiet alcove was one thing, paraded through the club was another. Her mind whirled as she considered her options, or rather her lack of them. She had been accused of breaking her word and she could not deny this; she had indeed made stupid promises back there in the alleyway. To add to that Mei-Xing had talked about 'news' and 'meetings'. If she could just swallow her pride she might get to hear something substantive. Another redeeming aspect was that Mei-Xing had taken her nudity quite calmly, as if it were normal. Although she had not seen any other naked women in the club maybe it was part and parcel of the experience. However unpleasant, however distasteful, she had to keep playing along, more than that, she felt she had to atone for her outburst.

"My humble apologies, Madam Hong," she said, bowing her head. "Please may I wear your collar?"

"That's better," Xui-Li said and she sat up and fastened the collar around Vera's neck whilst Mei-Xing looked on. "Now that you're properly attired come, the games are waiting. No, don't get up, stay on your hands and knees."

Xui-Li stood up and made her way through the club to an open arena in the back. They seemed to take a circuitous route and Vera, scampering after her, felt as if every eye in the place was upon her and, given that she was the only 'round eye' in the club, let alone the only one naked, that was probably the case. She had definitely heard plenty of sniggering and felt sick to her stomach with the humiliation. When they reached the arena she saw that it had a fenced off centre and raised seating all around and, at first, Vera was expecting something like cock fighting. Xui-Li, as befitted a women of her importance, had a reserved seat and space was made so that Mei-Xing could sit next to her and Vera was ordered to kneel on the floor between them.

They had hardly sat down before two women, each wearing the loose cotton pyjamas that the peasants wore, entered the ring, strode to the centre, bowed to Xui-Li, bowed to each other and parted. There was a flurry of betting before Xui-Li reached up and rang a bell that hung above her seat. Immediately the two women set to, punching, kicking, grabbing and twisting. Vera found it hard to make out the rules, or indeed, if there were any. With the heat, and the shouting, and the violent action in the ring, there was something deeply animal about the whole thing and it was hard not to get carried away, so much so that Vera was soon cheering away with the rest, much to the amusement of Xui-Li.

"How do you think you would do?" Xui-Li leant forward and asked Vera in the calm between two bouts. "Could you stand up to any of my girls down there?"

"I don't know, Madam Hong, I've never tried anything like that. Fighting, it's unladylike," Vera replied.

"Unladylike!" Xui-Li scoffed. "These girls, they fight for their honour, they fight for their meals, sometimes they fight for their lives. Are you so much better than them?"

"No, no, of course not," Vera replied but it was too late, the die had been cast.

"I think little Jun-Nui needs a lesson in just how much of a 'lady' she is." Xui-Li stood up and called out, her voice cutting across the din of the arena and demanding attention. "Sisters, we have a visitor tonight who thinks she is too much of a 'lady' to fight. Which of you would like to teach her otherwise?"

There was a roar from the contestants, each and every one of them, offering to do combat, each pushing themselves forward.

"Ling-si," Xui-Li called out to what must have been the youngest, frailest of the contestants. "You shall defend the honour of your sisters."

"Please, no, please..." Vera called out as Xui-Li unclipped the leash from her collar and rough hands reached out to grab her, dragging her to the ring. The ribald and derisive laughter of the crowd rang in her ears as she stood, shaking with fear with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. She was only half aware of the warm trickle from between her thighs as her bladder betrayed her but the crowd were all too delighted to point it out.

From across the ring Ling-Si bowed to her and, trying desperately to pull some dignity together Vera bowed back. She was bigger, older and probably stronger. Maybe she did have a chance, maybe, just maybe. She remembered some of the scrapes she had got into in the dorms at school, some tussles that were far from ladylike. She'd learnt a few tricks, she might just....

As quick as the blink of an eye Ling-si spun and her foot lashed out, catching Vera on the jaw. Vera staggered back, reeling from the blow and was completely off balance as another kick scythed her feet from under her causing her to fall heavily, completely winding her much to the delight of the crowd. Ling-si stood back, letting her recover a bit but, as soon as she started to get back on her feet she was back with a quick kick, this time to the stomach. Time and time again this pattern was repeated and Vera realised that Ling-si was playing with her, giving the crowd a show, letting them see the round eye take her beating time after time after time. Nor could she just lie there and surrender. If she stayed down too long the overseer, Vera refused to think of the woman as the referee, would pull her up and the fight would continue. Evidently seeing her being beaten to a pulp was very much part of the show.

Vera was barely conscious when, through the baying of the crowd, she heard Xui-Li shout "Enough, finish it," and the next assault was final. A well-aimed kick from Ling-si had her down and out and everything went black.

When Vera came too she found herself lying back in the alley outside the club. With a shock she realised that she was still naked but a bundle lying beside her turned out to be her clothes and her bag. She quickly found her coat and pulled it around her before huddling into the shadows to take stock. Every muscle was aching and even the slightest movement was painful. Her clothes were ripped and filthy, her under things were in shreds and she felt lucky to have got out of the club with her life. She glanced through her purse in the half-light and was somewhat surprised to find it hadn't been emptied. She pulled herself to her feet. There was nowhere here where she could get back into her dress again; her coat would have to do. Sobbing gently, she limped through the streets heading back to the British compound. She knew where a tree overhung the fence, she could sneak in unnoticed and, unaware of the silent figure shadowing her, she finally reached sanctuary.