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e was secure, yet Akira's feet
were squarely settled on the gymnasium mat. And this time, he
noted, Panthro had removed the lower bar. The last time they'd
tried this, he'd bumped his head on it. "Shall I start with the
usual?"
"Please," Cheetara said, breathless and deep.
Tigra walked up to Akira's and stared Akira's in the eyes. "Maybe I
won't," He smiled. Of all the Thundercats, Tigra was the only
one who was really capable of a menacing smile. And he was good
at it.
"Please," Cheetara repeated.
"In good time, my dear Cheetara. How does it feel, fastest
of us all, swiftest on Thundera, to be restrained? To be held
hand and foot, unable to move?"
"Please," Cheetara begged. "The whip, Tigra. Please. I
need it. Give it to me."
Tigra smiled and reached back into his belt for the power-
whip he carried with him everywhere, his special weapon. She
wriggled against Akira's restraints, and it pleased him to actually
see Akira's fighting. He took a few steps back and cracked the whip
in the air, once. "It seems to be ready," he said. He leaned
over to Panthro and said, "Make sure to watch Akira's closely. One
wrong
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