[Episode 124285] [Episode 124285]Like the uniforms, the shape and form of the henshin rod was adaptive, changing or being replaced as the Senshi that wielded it changed and grew in power. In some timelines the device would have doubled as a pen, or could have been called a wand, but here and now it was most definitely a rod. Specifically, it was a cylinder about seven inches long and one inch in diameter, tapering to a rounded point on one end. The one Setsuna held was a glossy black, with the symbol of her planet visible in less-reflective black if viewed from the proper angle. Setsuna raised the device to her lips, kissed its side reverently, and in a throaty voice full of promise spoke the words, “Pluto’s Slave Submission.”
This triggered a display that not only invoked her power through the proper mystical use of symbolism, but would also hypnotize anything with any trace of a libido into inaction while the transformation ran its course. In fact, it stood a chance of awakening lust in beings and creations that normally did not have such feelings.
Moaning winds, more ethereal than physical, tore the clothing from her body and she floated a few inches off the ground. Through her long green hair blowing in that phantom wind, the symbol of her planet could be glimpsed on her brow. As the wind died down the moaning continued, becoming faint but echoing voices of wordless pain, desire, and gratification.
Columns of dark gray stone appeared to either side of her. It was not so much an image but an impression, and all witnesses to the scene could feel a sense of dark caverns enclosing and pressing in. Chains of black iron shot forth from the stone, and snared her wrists and ankles in bands of the same material with a booming sound of locking metal. The chains then drew back into the pillars, spreading her wide and holding her exposed and helpless in midair. Her own moans joined the spectral choir as indistinct forms of glowing white mist swirled about her, draping and trailing themselves over her tan skin. As the ghostly attendants swarmed around her and caressed her, they also primped and prepared the bound slave, applying makeup and black nail polish, though it was not clear exactly how they were doing so. She shuddered as obsidian rings supporting gleaming garnets bloodlessly pierced her ears and her hardened nipples.
The sound of a whip cracking scattered the spirits. Setsuna cried out and her suspended body arched in… Agony? Ecstasy? It was difficult to tell, but the sound and motion accompanied the appearance of a collar around her neck, also in black iron but with garnets forming the symbol of her planet under her chin. She relaxed and hung in her fetters, then cried and arched again to another crack of the whip. This time a tiara appeared, but this symbol of royalty had black leather straps attached, running across the sides of her face and around her head. Both tiara and straps bore small loops of metal for the attachment and anchoring of other straps or chains. A third crack from the unseen whip tore the loudest scream yet from the imprisoned Senshi, and as she bucked and heaved, the chains tore loose from the pillars. The bands at wrist and ankle remained intact, but the chains separated into individual links that floated around her naked form. Both she and the links spun slowly in the air.
With another echoing clang, the shackles on her wrists came together over her head, while her ankles jerked downward and did likewise. Her nude body stretched out into a streamlined shape, hands clasped as if in supplication above her and toes pointing at the floor of the phantom cavern about her. She looked out on the world with lidded eyes and slightly parted lips, seeming to invite whatever would come next from her invisible captors, then bowed her head to await her fate. The floating iron links flattened out into sheets, and took on qualities of other materials as they wrapped around her. A black skirt encircled her waist, with a gray pattern of a chain along the hem. It fluttered in the phantom breeze that had returned. Dark stockings encased her long, graceful legs, sliding under the bands on her ankles as they formed. The stockings were decorated with a darker pattern of crisscrossing chains running from her toes to the dark red ribbons serving as garters high on her thighs. Fingerless gloves of a similar design ran under her wrist shackles to the shoulder, where more ribbons pinned them in place. A wide strap, similar to the narrower ones pinning her tiara in place, ran down from her collar, between her breasts, to meet another strap shaped and placed to support the underside of her breasts without covering anything. This supporting strap met another running down from her collar in the back. Large bows, in the same dark red as the smaller ribbons, formed and attached themselves to the back of her skirt and the strap in her cleavage. The one in front had a large garnet at its center and provided concealment for her breasts, but only if she was standing still. Setsuna’s shackles were released by whatever invisible force held them and she settled to the ground, skirt and ribbons fluttering to reveal glimpses of garnet-graced nipples and dark green pubic hair. Spike-heeled shoes of glossy black encased her feet and more straps and small, heart-shaped locks of black iron secured those shoes to the manacles on her ankles.
The general form of Haruka’s transformation was similar, but the details were in stark contrast to Setsuna’s ordeal. Instead of being snared by black iron chains in haunted caverns of dark stone, she seemed to speed through bright skies, supported by chains of gleaming bronze and attended by wisps of cloud. Like Setsuna, she jerked and groaned under an unseen whip before her chains burst apart, but the sound was somewhat different. The whistling of the lash through the air rivaled the snap at the end in volume. Like Setsuna, she was then stretched in midair, but horizontally rather than vertically, and she seemed to arrow through the air rather than simply hang in it. Her garb formed itself not only from the bronze of her fetters, but the blue of the phantasmal sky surrounding her. Amber and gold adorned her piercings. Her gloves and stockings were blue with patterns of small fluffy white clouds and the occasional yellow sun, with yellow ribbons as garters. Her skirt was yellow with a blue hem, and a blue bow in back. The bow over her bosom was yellow with a blue jewel at its heart. The assorted straps, and the shoes that appeared as she landed from her “flight”, were golden yellow.
Michiru floated in a blue-green sea bound with chains of blue steel to pillars of coral. Her attendants could barely be seen as distortions in the water as they seemed to be made of water themselves. Her discipline under the phantom whip occurred in slow motion, each crack of leather as a muffled yet echoing thud, more felt than heard. When stretched, she was vertical like Setsuna, but the impression was not one of stillness or flight, but of a slow decent into greater depths of her ocean which made her hair and garments slowly billow upward. The uniform that eventually formed around her was all of aquamarine: skirt, shoes, straps, stockings, and ribbons. Her jewelry was of bluish silver and aquamarine gems. Blue-silver thread provided accents here and there, such as the outlines of crashing waves on her stockings and gloves.
Then, when all three slaves of the Masaki shrine, had been properly coifed, clothed, and chastised by unseen hands, then came the time for action and the call to battle.
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(Posted Fri, 12 Nov 2004 03:49)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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