The Golden Age

Chapter 32 Trans-Atlantic Arrival

On Clegg’s great, white, flying boat, Bertie had woken from an energetic night spent enjoying the attentions of Sally and Alice. The surface of the sea beneath them was just seeing the glint of the rising sun as he had walked through the cabin. He climbed up the stairs to the flight deck. Elspeth was in the left hand seat, Jean in the right; Hermione still at her navigator’s table, checking the fuel gauges and engine instruments.

Peering out through the plane’s windscreen, Bertie could just make out a coast line emerging from the darkness.

“There you are Bertie,” said Elspeth, “Florida. Right on time too. Hermione has done her job well.”

The thin line on the horizon took on a more distinct form as the sun rose and they flew towards the coast. Soon the swamps of the Everglades were sliding beneath them and the ‘plane turned north. Bertie peered out at the unending stretch of trees, marshy ponds and scrub below. “Might find it a bit of a challenge landing something this big on that lot,” he said.

“Don’t worry Bertie,” Clegg’s voice came from behind him as Freddie reached the top of the stairs. “We’re headed a bit further north. There will be plenty of water to put this down on.”

As Clegg’s plane flew north across Florida crossed the Florida coast, the Captain was beginning to off-load his cargo in New Jersey. Each of the women were secured and gagged. Heidi, Helen and Hanni were sobbing as the three of them were dragged from the Captain’s cabin where they had spent most of the crossing. The Captain was sorry to see them go, they had proved willing pupils and while they were still, technically at least, virgins, they could not longer be described as innocent of the male sexual drive. The rest of the women, their resistance broken by the privations and abuse of the crew, gave no problems as each was settled into her own packing crate and swung aloft and across to the quay by the ship’s derrick. All they knew of the next stage of their journey was the cough of a truck’s engine and a short but bumpy drive before they felt their crates being lifted and carried.

Sandy, Heather and Agnes had disembarked at the liner terminal in New York, smuggling the drugged, unconscious Jennifer off the ship in a wheel chair disguised as Sandy’s aged aunt and with Sandy impersonating Jennifer. A few telephone calls from Sandy to her associates over the river in Newark had made an ambulance available to meet the boat. Jennifer had been wheeled straight down the gangway and into the ambulance, with Heather at her side. Customs officials, reluctant to be seen to delay the seriously ill old lady had waved them all through with the minimum of formalities. The four women, together with their driver, headed across to the Holland Tunnel, under the Hudson and turned off into a railway yard just off 18th Street in Hoboken. They arrived just as dusk fell. The rusting ship that had carried the triplets and the rest of Crewson’s human cargo was moored alongside the quay.

In the ambulance Jennifer, conscious once more, had been securely bound by Agnes. Heather had watched jealously as Agnes pulled the ropes carefully around Jennifer’s body, taking delight in the way that her bonds crushed her breasts and dragged her elbows tightly together behind her back. Only after she had carefully stuffed the poor girl’s mouth with a discarded scarf did she call Heather over to complete the gag with some of her adhesive strapping tape.

 

In the dark of the railway yard, Jennifer was dragged out of the ambulance and hustled at gun point over towards a two railway cars, a passenger saloon and a baggage car. “Do get in, my dear,” invited Agnes pointing to the steps of the passenger saloon. As they boarded, Heather was stunned by the luxurious fitting inside the saloon but Sandy insisted that they carried on through the connecting corridor and into the baggage car behind.

The driver of their ambulance reappeared in the uniform of a Pullman Car conductor. “I’ll look after the young lady if you like,” he said in a New Jersey accent that was thick enough to slice. It took Agnes some effort to understand what he was saying.

Sandy intervened. “Thank you,” she said. “She’ll be travelling through to our destination with the others. Make sure she’s well looked after.” She turned to Heather and Agnes. “Ladies, let’s take our seats. The train is about to depart.” Moments later there was a clunk as the two Pullman cars were coupled to an engine that shunted them out of the Hoboken yard on the first leg of their journey south. 

Clegg and Elspeth peered through the flying boat’s wind shield as the swamps of the Everglades and the scrubby Florida countryside unwound beneath them. Jean and Hermione had been led below and secured in the cargo hold alongside Daniella. Clegg and Elspeth were making the final checks needed before their arrival. Alice and Sally were serving Bertie and Jennings with their breakfast in the main cabin. They looked up as they heard Clegg’s voice over the plane’s tannoy. “Please take your seats for landing, Bay Lake is just ahead of us.”

Bertie made himself comfortable. He peered out at the ground below. “Where’s that?” he said pointing across to a small town visible not far away.

“Having consulted the maps Miss Addams was working with,” said Jennings, “I think, Sir that would be Orlando.”

“Never heard of it,” said Bertie.

“No sir. I think that’s why Mr Clegg chose it. For his purpose it is an ideally out of the way place. No tourists, you see.”

“Ah,” said Bertie. “Of course. Don’t want too many folk sniffing around with the stuff that Freddie’s up to, I suppose.”

Bertie had barely finished speaking when the flying boat sank down onto the lake, the sound of the water against the hull drowning out the sound of the engines. It slowed to a stop and then swung around towards a pier at the side of the lake. The engines coughed and died as Freddie cut the power. He and Elspeth, clambered down from the flight deck. Alice and Sally, their uniforms returned to some semblance of respectability, were waiting by the door as Clegg, Elspeth, Bertie and Jennings disembarked. “Thank you for flying with us, Good-bye,” they smiled as the four left the aircraft.

As they emerged onto the pier, Clegg was met by a group of four men. Bertie watched as Clegg pointed them towards the aircraft. Two of them grabbed Alice and Sally and dragged them off down the pier while the others disappeared inside the aircraft. Moments later they emerged with Hermione, Jean and Gabriella in tow. Clegg and Elspeth watched as they disappeared into a low building.

“Isn’t that great white bird going to look a little conspicuous?” asked Bertie.

“Well it would do normally,” said Clegg as another party appeared on the pier. They towed the flying boat to the edge of the lake and Bertie watched in astonishment as two wooden frames carrying camouflage netting were pulled forward over the craft. “Abracadabra,” said Clegg. “Now you see it, now you don’t. Picked up some very good ideas from a chap called Maskelyne.”

“Amazing,” said Bertie. “Absolute magic.”

Later that evening Clegg was playing host to the group in a small bar in the complex. “You must have been pleased with the flight, Freddie,” Bertie said. “First go, right across the ocean.”

“Well, I must admit to a sense of satisfaction,” Clegg smiled. “This will really open up the North American market for us, you see. I have my eye on a few more flyers to do the donkey work. We can bring across 24 on each flight, that’s almost a hundred girls we can get from Europe to here every week.”

“Is there really that level of demand?” Jennings asked.

“Hmm, yes, I think so. Our colonial cousins have developed quite a taste for taking advantage of their erstwhile masters. French girls go down well in Canada, Brits here of course, Spanish south of the border. It’s a wealthy country and getting more so. Plus of course with the Insing techniques we can give our customers a well conditioned product in a very short time.”

“Seems like a sound business,” said Jennings.

“Indeed,” said Elspeth. “and we have one of our investors joining us shortly. She’s coming down with the last sea-borne shipment.”  

Chapter 33: Breakfast In America

A train whistle echoed out across the countryside. Freddie Clegg rolled over, peering out with one bleary eye as the pink light of dawn slanted in through the window shutters. He gave the slow, drawn-out, groan familiar to all that have spent a night taking stock of the products of the vineyards surrounding Épernay. His hung-over glance fell on two of his night time companions – an empty magnum of Veuve Cliquot nestling between the two pillows of the king size bed and the naked and handcuffed form of Hermione Addams, stretched out, still asleep, alongside it.

The train whistle blared out again. “That’s your early morning call, Freddie.” Clegg looked up to see Elspeth framed in the door of his bedroom. She was smiling at the sight of Clegg, evidently still the worse for the previous evening’s entertainment. Clegg grunted an acknowledgement. Elspeth, cool and languorous in her floor length silk dressing gown, looked the complete opposite of how he felt. She took a slow drag on her cigarette, sending a stream of smoke across the room into the beams of sunlight.

“Have you got one of those for me,” asked Clegg, “or have I got to fix my own breakfast?” Elspeth smiled, reached into the pocket of her dressing gown and tossed a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches across to Clegg. He took one of the cigarettes, lit it and inhaled deeply. “Anyway, how come the train is here already? I didn’t think it was due until Thursday.”

“That’s right,” said Elspeth. “You did have quite a good time, you know.”

“Ah,” said Clegg, sitting up slowly. Hermione gave a quiet yawn, stretched and curled up again, apparently undisturbed by the chain that ran from her neck to the bed-head rail.

“And I do think that poor Bertie and Jennings felt you rather monopolised the girls last night.”

“Huh?” said Freddie turning his head to follow Elspeth’s critical gaze across to the floor on the far side of the room where the shackled, naked, sleeping forms of Jean Alardyce, Sally Fellows and Alice Mottram were piled in an intimate heap, apparently in no better shape than Hermione. “Ah,” said Freddie, embarrassed. ”Crew de-briefing, you know. They did do a frightfully good job.”

“Crew and cargo, I see” said Elspeth, lifting up the quilt that covered a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed which turned out to be the similarly helpless Gabriella Balzinni. Without the benefit of Insing’s conditioning, Freddie had been obliged to keep Gabriella gagged as well. She alone of the girls still had a fiery defiance in her eyes and groaned in protest, shaking her head in a fruitless attempt to dislodge the ball that was strapped into her mouth. “Really Freddie, you are incorrigible. Don’t you know about ‘enough’?”

Freddie sat up, shrugging off the effects of his exertions. He smiled. “Pah, I’ve always been there with Shakespeare – ‘bring me excess of it’ – and I don’t mean music.”

The train whistle sounded again. Bertie and Jennings appeared at the door. “Morning old chap,” Bertie hallooed, heartily. Clegg winced.

Jennings coughed. “Excuse me, Sir,” he ingratiated, “I took the liberty of preparing the restorative that I usually offer Mr Bertram on these occasions.” Clegg looked across at Jenning’s tray with its glass of water and the small plate carrying two aspirin and two seltzer tablets.

“Thank you, Jennings,” Clegg said sitting up. “Just the water and this,” he waved his cigarette, “will be fine.” He leant across and patted Hermione on the backside. She grunted, stretched and smiled before going back to sleep, undisturbed by her chain. Clegg turned to Bertie. “I say old man would you do me a favour and sort these dear ladies out while I have a shower. I really feel that I want to be in a fit state to greet our new arrivals but I want this lot to be ready for the flight back tonight. This is only a short lay-over.”

“My pleasure, Chief,” said Bertie.

Chapter 34: Florida Pullman

Bertie pulled himself up onto the steps of the Pullman Saloon. Clegg followed him on board. “Morning, Sandy,” Clegg called cheerily.

“Good morning Mr C,” the Comtesse returned. “Let me introduce your new investor – Miss Agnes Crystal, eminent novelist – allow me to present Mr Frederick Clegg, eminent – well Freddie, how would you describe yourself?”

“Lecher, if the last day’s activities are anything to go by,” cut in Bertie.

Agnes raised an eyebrow, Heather giggled and Sandy smiled. “Thank you, Bertie,” said Clegg. “Would you mind just checking the consignment?”

“Sure thing, old man,” he chuckled, heading off to the baggage car.

Clegg, Sandy and Agnes sat down around the saloon’s large central table. Agnes reached down and lifted up a large carpet bag. “I think you will find that contains the agreed sum.”

“I am sure it does,” said Clegg, taking the bag from Agnes and putting it down by his feet. “Can I say how much I was impressed by your method of raising the funds for the participation in this enterprise, Miss Crystal.”

“Well, thank you Mr Clegg, I take that as a great compliment.” Agnes smiled, primly. “Somehow it seemed appropriate, using the ransom from a kidnapping. I could have raised the money from my own sources but I always felt that Snipcock and Tweed owed me rather more than they ever paid me in royalties. This has served to redress the balance. Oh, by the way how is the young lady I pointed in your direction?”

“Oh, yes, Miss Sally Fellows, I’d almost forgotten she’d been your secretary. She’s doing very well, thank you. She’s joined the cabin crew for my new flying boat - doing perfectly so far. I must say all the recommendations we had for flight crew turned out well. Our pilot was your idea wasn’t it, Sandy? Anyway I’m sure you’ll meet up as we go around the facilities. I take it you have some time before you are ‘rescued’?”

“Yes, yes. I’m keen to see how you’ll be putting my little stake to use. I’m travelling back from Miami, via Havana and into Spain. When we get back to the UK, Heather and I will ‘escape’ from our ‘captors’ and turn up in some out of the way place with no memory of what has gone on.”

“Excellent. I do hope we didn’t inconvenience your young companion too much.”

“Heather?” Agnes laughed. “Goodness, no. She’s quite happy with a little rough play aren’t you dear? Especially if involves some rope.” Heather scowled. “I’m sure she was more than a little excited by her treatment although she might have liked it even better if your friend Elspeth had been involved.”

Heather blushed. “Really, Agnes,” she protested. “Please don’t tease.”

“Miss Logan,” Freddie said comfortingly. “Don’t be embarrassed. We all think you played your part splendidly.”  Heather smiled, grateful for the appreciation.

In the baggage car Bertie was overseeing the paper work for the receipt of the new arrivals. Much impressed by the triplets, he also found the athletic Jennifer Bayliss very much to his taste as well but, obliging, Freddie, he put his personal interests to one side in order to complete the transfer dockets, carefully cross referencing the details on each girl’s packaging with the list that Freddie had given him.

Jennings had joined Bertie. Ostensibly he was to check their restraints but didn’t fail to take the opportunity to check on their other attributes. Each of the girls was secured in a small crate with a wire grill at the top. Through each grill, Jennings could see that the girl’s ball gag was still locked in place and the shackles about their wrists and ankles were still secure. Satisfied that they presented no security threat, Jennings unlocked each of the crates in turn and pulled each girl out.

The seven girls were lined up one behind the other along the length of the baggage car. The girls from the ship seemed completely prepared to accept whatever was done to them, cowed by their treatment on board. Jennifer was still resisting rather more than the others but Jennings fitted each in turn with a broad leather neck collar, and then ran chains between them.

Bertie went down the line of girls checking them against his receipt list too.  “I say, Jennings,”  he said, looking at the bruises and marks that all but the triplets bore, “some of these girls are looking a bit the worse for wear. Freddie’s going to be cross if he wants to put them in next week’s auction.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Jennings. “On the face of it some of them do appear somewhat shop-soiled. I understand that was one of the reasons why Mr Clegg has been so keen to get all of the transport arrangements under his own control. These three, however,” he gestured to the triplets, “seem unmarked.”

“Good thing too,” said Bertie. “I may be new to this business but even I can guess that three of a kind is likely to fetch a little extra mazoomah. And they are quite pleasant looking young ladies, too.”

Jennings had already come to the same conclusion and was keen that his involvement in the arrival of the newcomers was not limited to checking them against the goods inwards list. “Yes, indeed, sir, but if you don’t mind, I think I should take them across to the accommodation block.”

“Of course, Jennings, silly of me. Don’t mean to keep you hanging about. You carry on, I’ll drop these papers off for Freddie.”

“Thanks you, Sir,” Jennings smiled as Freddie gathered up his papers and got down from the baggage car. Turning to the shackled and cowering girls, he grinned again. “Let’s go and find where you’ll be staying, I’ll help you all get bedded down,” he said, grasping the chain from the leading girl’s collar and dragging the six women, whimpering in protest, behind him in a line. 

To Jennings’s great disappointment, as he reached the accommodation block with the six new arrivals in tow, he met Freddie, emerging from the building. “Ah, good man, Jennings,” he said. Holding out his hand for the girl’s leading chain. “I’ll take these, now and save you the trouble.”

Reluctantly Jennings gave over the lead, abandoning his plans for a morning of debauchery involving the triplets.

Chapter 35: Hibernian Links

Clegg lead the way from the Pullman car across a scrubby area of vegetation, towards some a complex of derelict sheds.

“I have to say, Clegg,” Agnes began. “This doesn’t look too impressive. I hope I’m being well advised with this investment.”

“Do not fear Miss Crystal and do not be misled by first impressions. After all, even though there aren’t too many people around here it hardly pays to advertise our presence.”

“I can see that, I can see that, Mr. Clegg.”

“Well, look at this.” Clegg pushed back a splintered wooden door. Inside it was another polished steel door. It swung open with a hiss, revealing a brightly lit reception area with a long corridor leading back from it behind a barred gate. “Well ladies, welcome to Clegg Enterprises Inc.” said Freddie, expansively, ushering Sandy, Heather and Agnes inside. “this ladies and gentlemen is the results of your endeavours and investments.”

The receptionist waved the party through. “Good morning Mr Clegg,” he said, “everything is in order.”

Clegg led the group to a large room to the right of the reception area. “This is the auction hall,” said Clegg. “We can accommodate thirty bidders in here and another twenty bidding over the phone. The stage area can be equipped with posts to shackle the girls to during the auction or they can be simply walked through from their accommodation. The auctioneer has a podium to the side there. After each sale is completed the lot is led out that way,” he pointed to a door in the far corner. “That goes straight to the packaging bay so they can be boxed up or just secured as needed. There is a loading area behind it so they can be on their way in less than twenty minutes after they are sold.”

“Quite a production line, Freddie,” said Sandy.

“Now come and see the accommodation,” Freddie invited. “I hope you’ll be impressed with the security arrangements.”

Agnes Crystal smiled at Heather, “Don’t get too excited young lady,” she cautioned. “I don’t think I can afford to install this sort of arrangement for your amusement. If you’re very nice to Mr Clegg, though, perhaps he’ll let you have the use of a free cell for an evening before we go.”

Heather gave a harrumph.  Clegg ignored the two women’s bickering and directed them back past reception, through a barred and locked sliding door, and along the corridor.  Off the right side of the corridor were a series of cells each with floor to ceiling bars that allowed the occupants no privacy at all. There were a dozen cells in all, the first held the triplets and in the next cell were the three other girls from the ship. Beside them were Gabriella and Jennifer sharing a cell and furthest from the door was Freddie’s flight crew; Hermione, Jean, Sally and Alice.

Agnes was impressed by the arrangements. Freddie was keen to reassure her about her investment. “Really Miss Crystal, I don’t think you should have any concerns about this. The only problem with this site would be if someone were to suddenly decide that the Florida swamps were an ideal holiday destination. Quite frankly that seems wholly unlikely to me.”

Freddie was delighting in expounding the qualities of the detention area. The girls for auction were well shackled, of course. Each cell had its own sleeping, toilet and washing facilities. Occupants could be fed without opening the cell doors.

Gabriella and Jennifer, having not had the benefit of attention from the Captain or the crew of the steamer, still had rather more spirit in them than the others and were secured rather more stringently as a result. Their hands were chained behind them and they both wore leather head harnesses that held solid bar gags across their mouths.

Finally the party reached the flight crew’s cell. All four of the girls were naked after their debriefing session with Freddie. Completely submissive as a result of Insing’s treatment they needed no restraints. Even Hermione sat passively on the edge of her cot, not reacting to the observers outside the bars of her cell.

Only Jean Alardyce, the pilot, appeared to notice Freddie and his group. She appeared agitated for a moment as she saw them approaching and leapt to her feet before Insing’s conditioning took effect and she returned to her seat, staring blankly.

“The pilot seems a little perturbed,” said Bertie, “not too pleased to see us at all. I thought she’d been well tamed but there are obviously still some underlying currents there.”

“Well,” said Freddie, “I expect it’s the shock.”

“Can’t be a surprise to see us can it? She’s seen most of us at one time or another over the last few days. All a bit of a puzzle, what?”

“Not altogether,” said Sandy stepping forward. “She’s just surprised to see her sister after all this time, aren’t you, Jean?”

“She’s your sister!” exclaimed, Bertie. “No wonder she’s at little upset. I say, that’s a bit rich isn’t it?”

“Oh, Bertie, don’t moralise,” laughed Sandy. “We were never that close. When Bertie said he was looking for a pilot I thought it would be a great chance for her to have a change of career direction. All those record attempts were quite dangerous, you know. I really only had her bet interests at heart.”

Bertie looked quizzical. “Well I hope you won’t extend your consideration to me.”

Jennings interrupted the exchange. “Excuse me ladies, gentlemen,” he said. “I thought you might like to take some lunch.”

Bertie brightened up immediately. “Capital idea,” he said, capital idea, indeed.” Clegg, Sandy and the others responded with similar enthusiasm.

“If you’d like to make your way over to the guest complex, ladies and gentlemen, it’s all ready now.” Clegg lead the way out of the detention area, pointing out the various security features and enthusing about his future plans as he went

Jennings brought up the rear, hanging back as the party left the corridor between the cells. As he got to the cell holding the triplets, he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the cell door. “Hello girls,” he smiled. “I just thought I’d try out some of the lots before you’re put up for auction. It would be a terrible thing if we were to be offering sub-standard stock in any way. I hear that your sea voyage has taught you all sorts of interesting tricks with your tongues. I thought you might like to demonstrate.”

The girls looked on in resignation to their fate as he pulled the belt from his trousers.

“Now,” he said, encouragingly, “who’s first?”

< The End>