Hi! We’ve not really spoken before but you’ve probably heard a bit about me from Larry. I’m Sarah. Ooops, sorry, #06.085. I keep forgetting I’m only supposed to use my slave number. I’ve been doing secretarial work here in Clegg’s organisation for a while now and though lots of bosses like to think they have their secretaries as a sort of personal office slave, it’s only here that it’s literally true. I’ve been helping out around here for about six months, ever since my current boss had me kidnapped. There’s one other thing you need to know. As part of my training – “preparation” they call it - Clegg’s people put me through their sexualisation programme. It means I respond very quickly to sexual approaches or situations. I can’t help it. It’s just the way the programme makes you. I mean I wouldn’t want you to think I was some sort of sex maniac or anything.
Anyway, this is about one of our customers. Harry (that’s my boss – yeah, I know its confusing - Harry, Larry - but don’t worry about it) was meeting him to discuss his new requirements and he asked me to tag along to take notes. Harry’s great at running the team but his admin isn’t up to much – I guess that’s why he keeps me around.
I was quite surprised when I saw Harry’s guest. I mean, most of our customers are in their forties or fifties, I guess, but this one was much older, in his seventies, I guess. And he was sitting in a wheel chair. I’ve not had much contact with older customers – apart from that Kushtian, Kushnati Koresh, and he was just horrid – but this man looked nice. He was very well turned out; smartly dressed, his white hair cut neatly short, his moustache carefully trimmed. He obviously took care of his appearance, his shoes were polished, the creases in his trousers as sharp as a razor, his jacket immaculate with a carnation in his button hole.
He smiled at me as I came in. “Well,” he said, “that does brighten up the office, I must say.”
I’m used to hearing sexist comments at work (I mean what else would you expect in a business that trades in women, after all?) but at least he seemed to do it with a bit of charm. Actually since the training that they have put me through here, sex is pretty much a component of everything so I don’t really mind. Not, of course, that it matters, whether I mind or not. It’s just something I have to put up with and, since Harry insists that I look the part of the sexy secretary around the office, I put up with it most of the time. In any case, since I was put through what Harry calls the sexualisation programme, the slightest mention of sexual activity has my nipples stiffening and other parts getting distinctly damp.
Harry introduced his guest. “This is Colonel Snell,” he said. “We provided him with some product a while ago.”
“Very good too, very good,” Colonel Snell, interrupted, twisting his moustache in a way that recalled a Victorian villain.
“Thank you,” said Harry. “Well as I was saying. We provided the Colonel with, what was it, 12 girls?” Snell nodded with a self satisfied grin. “And now he has further use of our services. Take a seat Sarah; you’ll need to jot down what the colonel is looking for.”
I pulled up one of the chairs that Harry kept beside his desk and sat down. As I crossed my legs, I thought I caught Colonel Snell sneaking a surreptitious glance but Harry launched into the discussion of the Colonel’s needs and I was soon scribbling notes on my pad, too busy to worry about anything like that.
The discussion took about twenty minutes and at the end of it Harry stood up and reached across to shake Colonel Snell’s hand. “I’m sure we’ll be able to sort something out,” he said.
“Fine, fine,” said Snell. “Well it’s been a pleasure.” He spun his wheel chair around to face towards the office door. I moved across to open it for him. “Thank you young lady,” he said as he drew up alongside me. “It’s a delight to see someone so efficient and considerate.” I smiled in response to the complement. “And, I must say, it is also good to see a young lady turned out so smartly. First rate,” he said looking me up and down as if he was inspecting one of his troops, “Always liked red-heads. First rate.”
“I’ll see you out,” said Harry and followed him out through into the hall.
I got back to my computer, typing up the notes from our meeting. It’s always best to type things up quickly, I find. That way things don’t get forgotten. I’d got most of it done before Harry got back. He always appreciates it when I deal with things straight away. “He seemed nice,” I said as Harry came back into the office. “I don’t know why everyone is so nasty about him. It’s not his fault that he’s old and in a wheel chair.” Harry seemed a little distracted, lost in thought.
“Hmm?” he said.
“Colonel Snell,” I said, “he seemed like a nice old chap. I hope we can help him out.”
“Yes, yes,” said Harry still obviously distracted. “Well, you won’t mind then.”
“Mind?” I said, “what should I mind?”
“Oh, sorry,” said Harry, “I was trying to work out what I was going to do while you’re off.”
“Off?”
“Yes. Snell wants you to fill in with him for a while. Says he wants some help with using the web system when we start finding some recruits. You know how it is with some of these old folk. They can’t get to grips with the technology like youngsters can. I said you’d help out.”
I must have looked surprised.
“Sarah, I have to keep reminding you that you’re a slave around here.” Suddenly I was very conscious of the solid metal collar that was locked around my neck under my blouse. “Just remember that you are #06.085 and that you do as you are told and go where you are told.”
“Sorry, Sir,” I apologised. “Of course.”
“That’s all right Sarah.” Harry’s a sweetie, really. He finds it hard to keep up the whole stern look thing. “Look, finish typing up those notes and then you can get off for a while. Snell wants you transferred this evening if possible.”
“Oh, do you want me to speak to transport?” I said, trying to be helpful. “They’ll need notice because we hadn’t got anything else scheduled tonight.”
Harry smiled. “That’s all right Sarah, I’ll fix it. Just do the typing and have a couple of hours off.”
I managed to get the typing finished and then got back to my room. I just had time for a shower before two of the transport team turned up.
I was only wearing a towel wrapped around me and another around my hair when the two of them appeared. From the way the taller one was licking his lips I could see that they weren’t worried by the fact that I’d only just finished in the bathroom. But then Harry’s team aren’t always the most subtle. “Hi, Sarah,” the taller one said. “You ready?”
“Does it look like it?” I asked, still trying to rub my hair dry.
“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “It’s time to go now.”
I gave a short sigh but I knew it wasn’t any good arguing. I held out my wrists ready for the handcuffs. He looked at them and shook his head, waving with a finger to indicate I should turn around. I did as he directed and felt the cold steel of the cuffs against skin that was still hot and damp from my shower as he fastened my wrists behind my back.
As the taller guy slid the cuffs tightly shut his colleague walked around to face me. He reached up and jerked the towel off, leaving me naked. OK, I know I’m a slave here but I thought they were being a bit unfair. “Hey,” I started to say, “that’s not nuungh….” My objections were cut off as the taller man pushed a standard ball gag into my mouth and pulled the strap tightly around my head. I hate the ball gag most of all. They always make my jaw ache and they make me drool. It’s painful and it’s messy. Give me tape or even a cloth any time. I’d much rather be gagged with one of them.
“Works every time,” the shorter guy said, ignoring my grunted protests. He opened his work bag and pulled out a tape dispenser. He used tape to strap my arms to my side and lock my wrists into the small of my back with strips that went around my belly. He put a few turns around my legs just above the knee for good measure. I could still hobble along but I wasn’t going anywhere quickly.
“You’re in for a treat,” said the taller guy. “We’re not using a crate this time.” That sounded good to me. The transport crates were really uncomfortable even if you had been sedated first. Harry must have put in a good word for me. He rummaged in the work bag and pulled out a neatly folded pile of brown woollen cloth. As soon as he started to unfold it I recognised it for what it was; a chanoosh.
I’d seen them plenty of times before, working with some of Clegg’s Kushtian clients. The chanoosh was the traditional robe worn by Kushtian women; a floor length garment that covered the head and included a veil that hid all of the face except for the wearer’s eyes. They pulled the towel from my head and then put the chanoosh on in its place.
“Seems a shame to cover her up,” the taller guy said. “Aren’t too many titties around here nicer than these.”
“You’re right there,” his colleague said, grabbing a quick feel under the pretext of pulling the chanoosh down over my shoulders. Mostly the guards here are pretty good, Harry doesn’t have too much trouble with them taking liberties that they aren’t entitled to but somehow I’ve seemed to moved out of the “hands off the merchandise unless told” category, especially since the sexualisation programme that means I give out all the wrong signals in response. I gave a grunt of protest into my gag, but it ended up sounding like an “mmm” of encouragement. The guard chortled. “Where’s she going anyway?”
“Over to Colonel Snell’s.”
“Oh right. Is it true he’s called Basher because of, well, you know?”
“Yepp,” nodded the other as he pulled my robe into place. “renowned for it. World class by all accounts. If there was an Olympic event for it, he’d have the gold medal.”
“Oh well,” said the first guard to me, “you should be safe enough then.”
Satisfied that they’d got the robe on properly, the two men hustled me out of the room and into the corridor. I caught sight of myself in a mirror on one wall, the dark brown robe covered me from head to foot, the veil covered my nose and ball-gag filled mouth, all that could be seen of me was my eyes.
I hobbled along as best I could with the tape wound around my thighs. My awkward gait seemed to amuse my escorts but they stopped laughing long enough to help me into the car that was parked beside the Prep Centre’s loading bay. Pushed into the back seat and strapped in, I could only wait until a driver appeared.
Two more of Harry’s team rolled out to drive me across to Colonel Snell’s. As usual one came to baby-sit me in the back of the car. He gave me a friendly smile as he slid in beside me but I still thought that he’d still be planning to spend the journey seeing if he could fumble with me under my robes. Then we were joined by someone else. Doctor Jordan, “The Doc” as she was universally, but unoriginally, known came out of the Prep Centre talking to Harry. She finished her discussions and climbed into the front seat alongside my driver. “Thanks for the ride, boys,” she said. “Handy you going over to the Colonel’s right now.” And with that the car pulled away.
As the car wound its way through London I had to get used to strange looks whenever the car stopped at traffic lights. After some of the fuss last year, a lot of people still find it strange to see a veiled woman out in public. I guess they’d have thought things even more strange of they could see what I had on under my veil and my chanoosh. Us Brits can be really contradictory at times.
We got to Colonel Snell’s house late in the afternoon. It was good to see somewhere I was being taken to for a change. It might have been uncomfortable bound and gagged and strapped into the back seat with my minder sneaking his hands under my robe and running them over my thighs but it was a lot better than riding in the boot or in one of the Centre’s crates.
We were greeted by what I took to be Colonel Snell’s butler, although later, the Colonel explained that batman was the more correct title. He showed the group of us into the lounge where Colonel Snell was sitting in his wheelchair. One of the slaves we had supplied, it was Mylene – I recognised her from some of the tapes that Harry had asked me to catalogue – was kneeling beside him. Dressed in a khaki, short sleeved, blouse and a straight skirt in the same colour, she turned towards me, her mouth distended by a ball gag every bit as mouth filling as my own.
“Doctor Jordan, Miss Sarah, and two gentlemen, Colonel,” Snell’s batman intoned.
“Very good, Forbes,” the Colonel responded. “I imagine you two gentlemen would appreciate a small glass of beer, what? Forbes, why don’t you look after them while I talk to the Doctor and get acquainted with our red headed friend.” Forbes led my driver and custodian away. Snell turned his attention to the Doctor and me.
“Good of you to come, Doctor,” he said. “Must say I appreciate the after sales service. Why have you brought the young lady dressed like that though? Not some vile example of multi-cultural political correctness, is it? Hadn’t got Clegg down for that sort of thing at all.”
Doctor Jordan smiled tolerantly. “Ah, no. I believe it’s just a piece of expedience; simpler to transport low risk pieces like this young lady. Clegg picked the idea up from some of his Kushtian contacts. You know what he’s like for trying new ideas.”
“Hmm. Too fond of it if you ask me. Still never mind. I assume she’s gagged under there.” He reached out and pinched one of my tits. The pained but muffled squeal I gave out answered his question. “Thought so. Still never mind her for the moment, you’ll be wanting to see the patients.”
“Yes, if I could. It’s quite unusual for three of our girls to develop a fault so soon after delivery.”
“I’m sure,” he said, “same problem too.”
“Well, if I could see the girls concerned.” Doctor Jordan said.
“If you would like to follow me, Doctor.” Forbes had reappeared at the back of the room.
With the Doctor joining Forbes to see to her patients, the Colonel turned his attention back towards me. “Now, don’t you worry my dear, we’ll have you out of those robes shortly. I recall that you were very neatly turned out at Mr Clegg’s offices and I am sure you will want to present the same show of efficiency here. Forbes will have your bags taken through to your room and then you’ll be able to shower and dress properly. That robe may be all very well for transport but I have to say I got over the allure of veiled women in a three year stint in Aden. What?”
With the ball gag still strapped into my mouth I could do no more than grunt in an agreeing tone. It didn’t stop the Colonel however.
“Appalling place!” he went on. “Hot as hell with dust to match and flies everywhere. And the food! Yee gods, drove me back to the NAAFI canteen. Can’t imagine why we spent so long trying to hold onto it after the whole Suez debacle. Madness. That lunatic Eden. Could have done without him. Mind you Macmillan was no better. Politicians! None of them have the first idea. Ought to leave foreign policy to the military. Then you’d see what Britain can do in the world. Least this Blair chap has let us get on with things. Never thought I’d hear myself approving of one of his sort. But, there you are……”
The Colonel’s rant continued. He didn’t seem to mind if I grunted in agreement or not so, for the most part, I stood, listening and appearing, in as much as you can in an all enclosing robe, to show interest.
Eventually the Doctor returned, accompanied by three of the Colonel’s women. All three wore the same uniform clothing that Mylene was dressed in. Each had her right hand in a collar and cuff sling.
The Colonel interrupted his flow. “Ah,” he said, “the witch doctor has returned. What’s the verdict, Doc? Nasty attack of acute idleness if you ask me!”
Doctor Jordan smiled. “No, no, Colonel. It’s a real complaint, I’m afraid. RSI is my diagnosis.”
“Damned initials are no use to me. What’s wrong with them?”
“I’m sorry,” said the Doc. “RSI stands for Repetitive Strain Injury. You get it by repeating the same action over and over again. You tend to see it in offices – too much typing that sort of thing – or in some factory jobs. It just means the wrist has been asked to carry out more work than it’s used to. Can I ask what sort of thing you’ve been using the girls for? They didn’t seem keen to talk about it.”
“Ha,” barked Snell, “wouldn’t have thought any of them were shrinking violets. The only hard work they’ve had to do is bringing me a bit of relief.”
“They’ve been masturbating you?”
“Yes, of course. Not called Basher Snell for nothing, you know! Started at school, kept it up in the army. Can’t get any of those disagreeable diseases as long as you wash your hands! Should have seen some of the whore houses some of the chaps used to go to, excusing your sensibilities, doctor.” The doctor didn’t seem to have been unduly offended but Snell took no notice in any event. “Still I can’t see what the problem is. Haven’t asked any of them to do anything I couldn’t do. Secret of good leadership, don’t you know? None of them has had to do it for more than, oh, three or four hours at a stretch.”
The Doctor looked on resignedly. “I see,” she said. “Well, I’m afraid that sort of activity could certainly cause this if the individual hasn’t had sufficient practice previously or if they don’t warm up properly beforehand. You must remember, Colonel, that these girls don’t have your experience. I’m afraid the only cure is complete rest for the limbs concerned for at least two weeks and then only a very gradual return to use with plenty of exercise to increase the range of movement. They will need orthopaedic wrist braces but those slings will have to do until you can get them. They’ll need some pain relief. Regular ibuprofen should do it. They may find massage helps. Rest is the main thing though. Otherwise their wrists may lock up completely.”
“That might not be a problem,” Snell smirked, “but I’ll see what I can do. I suppose they’ve got two hands after all.”
“Well, be careful,” the Doctor advised, “for the right handers, their left hands will be even more susceptible to this. I also have to say that our warranty doesn’t really cover this. It’s what we would term fair wear and tear. I’m happy to have called today but if you needed any further help, I’d have to ask Mr Clegg if he wanted to levy a charge.”
“Hmm,” said the Colonel. “Well thanks for your efforts Doctor. I appreciate what you’ve done.”
With that the Doctor left us, Snell waved the three invalid girls away and told Forbes to take me up to my room and help me to settle in.
Forbes had a rather brisk manner, I thought, as he showed me up to a room near the top of the house. I was quite pleased by the accommodation because I’d half expected a cell in the basement or a cage outside.
“I run this place like clockwork, young lady. I hope you’ll find no trouble in fitting in with our little ways. I know some of you young girls have a rather slap dash approach to things and we don’t go in for that here.” He opened the door to a small room. It was rather sparsely furnished but the bed looked comfortable and there was a small dressing table, stool and a wardrobe. There was a window high up on the gable wall. I suppose I wasn’t surprised to see it had bars.
“This will be your room for tonight. You’ll be in the main barrack room with the others tomorrow,” Forbes said. “I’ll have one of the other girls bring up your bags so you can get changed. I’m sure that sort of thing,” he peered disapprovingly at my chanoosh, “is considered amusing by Mr Clegg’s people but we prefer more conventional attire. I’m assuming you have clothes with you?” I nodded and grunted through my gag. “Right. We’ll see to a uniform issue later. Oh yes, I’ll tell them to take off your restraints as well. You can join the staff briefing at 19:00 hours in the kitchen. It’s at the bottom of the stairs - turn left and follow it through to the back of the house. There is a lavatory and wash room at the end of the corridor. I think that’s about it for now. We’ll sort the other things out later. Welcome to the house, Miss.”
There didn’t seem to be much for me to do except to sit on the bed and wait until my clothes and some help appeared. It wasn’t long in coming. Another girl in khaki appeared carrying the small case that my clothes had been packed into. She said nothing but reached under my robes to free me from the handcuffs and the tape. I was pleased when the last piece came free from my arms and wasted no time in removing the strip that was hobbling my legs and then unbuckling the ball gag that filled my mouth.
“Oh thank you so much,” I said to the girl. “My name’s Sarah. What’s yours?”
The girl looked startled, shook her head, put her finger to her lips and pointed to a sheet of paper pinned to the wall. I peered it. “Regulations” it said in large type at the top. Underneath was a list of rules that were evidently meant to apply to all the household staff The girl pointed to about halfway down the list where it said: “7. Staff should not spend time in idle chatter during working hours.”
“Oh,” I said, “come on. No one’s going to mind us exchanging names, are they?” The girl looked even more worried and nodded her head vigorously. With that she scurried away leaving me to unpack and change.
I thought that a bit odd but was glad to get out of the chanoosh and to peel the strips of tape from my arms and thighs. I wasn’t sure what was best to wear for the staff meeting but thought I ought to try to look efficient so I chose the black skirt and white blouse that I quite often wore around the office. It took me a while to put on some make up and sort my hair out – putting a chanoosh on over wet hair isn’t recommended unless your planning to keep the chanoosh on! - but I was nearly ready when I heard the grandfather clock in the hall striking seven. I pulled on my shoes and walked to the stairs. As I started to come down the stairs, I saw Forbes apparently about to come up but as he saw me he turned on his heel and headed off towards the kitchen too.
When I got there the other girls were already gathered there, all neatly dressed in their uniforms. Forbes was standing at the front of the meeting.
“Ah,” he said. “Miss Anderson. So good of you to join us.”
I recognised the irony and thought it was as well to apologise, even though I’d only been a minute or so late. “I’m sorry I’m late Mr Forbes. I didn’t intend to keep you waiting. It’s just that there’s no clock in my room and….”
“No matter, Miss,” he said. “We must get on with the agenda.” I was relieved that it didn’t sound as though he intended to chastise me any further. “Item 1,” he said. “Today’s Performance. You’ll be pleased to know that all has been completed satisfactorily today. The Colonel has been pleased with standards generally, apart from the medical problems of course. Item 2, Tomorrow’s Events. Nothing special. The Colonel is out for lunch tomorrow but breakfast and dinner will be taken as normal. We will take advantage of the Colonel being out in the middle of the day to have a kit inspection. Item 3, Tomorrow’s Duty Roster. Three of you are on sick parade. You two, Catering Corps, You three Colonel’s Special Needs. You two, Household. You two, Dogs. All clear? Good. Any questions? No? Good. I understand that we are a bit stretched at the moment but this young lady,” he pointed at me, “is joining the Colonel’s staff to help find additional recruits. I’m sure we will all be pleased that she’s here. You,” he pointed to a dark haired girl, “make sure our new arrival gets a uniform issued and see she knows what’s required for inspection tomorrow.”
I smiled at the dark haired girl. She looked back, nervously, apparently unhappy at being given the task.
“Right then,” Forbes said. “That’s more or less it apart from Item 4. Punishment Parade.” I wasn’t surprised by that. It seemed almost inevitable that Forbes would be a strict disciplinarian. “Well, quite a good show today,” he said. The girls all looked relieved. “There’s just the one.”
He turned towards me. “Miss,” he said, “if you would just like to come up here.”
I was startled but got to my feet. “Surely you don’t mean me?” I said. “I mean I’ve only just got here. What can I possibly have done?”
“I am afraid we take timeliness very seriously here, Miss. You were late for the meeting and that wastes everybody’s time.” He reached into a cupboard and pulled out a bamboo cane. “The standard is one stroke for each minute,” Forbes said. “So come here please.”
I was glad I was only one minute late, I thought. The cane looked as though it would deal a painful blow but I could take a single stroke.
“Bend over the end of this table, please Miss,” Forbes pointed to where he wanted me. “And you, Dobbs, take her skirt down, please.” As I stood by the desk, Mylene came forward and unzipped my skirt, letting it fall around my ankles. “And the knickers please,” Forbes was insistent, Mylene complied. “Right,” said Forbes, gripping me by the back of the neck and pushing my face down against the desk. “Fourteen strokes!”
“Fourteen!” I gasped. “I thought you said one.”
“Yes, that’s right. One for each minute wasted. Your were one minute late, there are thirteen of us and you, that’s fourteen minutes wasted, unless my mathematics is severely at fault. Is it?”
“No, Mr Forbes,” I said fearfully, dreading the punishment that I now knew was to come.
“That’s, ‘No Sergeant’, young lady,” he said. “And the drill here is to count these off and say ‘Thank you, Sergeant’ at the end of it. Clear?”
“Yes, err, Sergeant,” I said and the punishment began.
The cane cracked down. The first blow caught me right across the buttocks. The force and the shock cracked the front of my thighs against the edge of the table. I gasped with the pain and counted “One”. The other blows followed quickly. I’d had harder beatings but each stroke was laid down precisely on the place of the preceding stroke building up a crescendo of pain. By the tenth stroke I was gasping my responses, by the thirteenth I was sobbing. The last stroke and my final, “Fourteen. Thank you, Sergeant” was barely audible.
Forbes let go the nape of my neck and I straightened up slowly. “You can get dressed, now,” he said. I pulled my knickers up, regretting how tight they were as they stretched over my sore backside. When I bent forward to grip the waistband of my skirt the pain was even worse. I straightened up slowly, fastened my skirt and walked slowly back to my place. I didn’t feel like trying to sit down.
Forbes called the group to order. “That finishes our agenda for today,” he said. “Splendid display of discipline, Anderson. Some of you other girls could take her example for punishment parade. Now, don’t forget, lights out, nine o’clock tonight. That’s all. Parade! Parade, atten - shun!” The girls leapt to their feet, standing as stiff as boards under Forbes’s gaze. “Parade dismiss.” Forbes picked up his cane, turned on his heel and left.
© 2007 Freddie Clegg
All characters fictitious.
All characters fictitious.
Sarah and Basher feature in
Freddie’s story “Market Forces” available here.
Download PDF copies of other Freddie
Clegg stories at :
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freddies_tales/
The other girls dispersed quickly and I was left on my own. I went back to my room and it was only a few minutes later that Mylene turned up with a pile of khaki clothing.
“Here’s your kit issue,” she said. “You’ll need to put on a night shirt and pack up everything else and I’ll take it to the stores.”
“OK,” I said. “Thanks. Look can we talk now?”
Mylene looked around worried as if she was expecting Forbes to appear at any minute. “Well,” she said as I started gathering up my own clothes and packing them away. “It’s all right for a minute or too. Forbes will be off having his evening tipple. Look you must read the rules and learn them by heart. And make sure you’re in bed for lights out; he’ll be around to check. The main thing is you mustn’t upset him.”
“Oh, I can see that,” I said, ruefully thinking of the beating he had just given me. “But I’m sure I’ll find a way to get around him.”
“Please don’t try, it will only mean trouble for the rest of us.”
“Is it as bad as all that?”
Mylene nodded. She turned around and pulled up her tee-shirt. Her back was criss-crossed with a series of wheals that looked every bit as bad as mine felt. They were a few days old. The bruises had developed into a delightful array of colours, blues, greens and purples. Suddenly she heard a sound in the corridor outside. Startled, she picked up the bag containing my belongings and darted out of the room.
I’d only just finished putting the kit away when the lights went out. There didn’t seem much else to do, so I climbed into bed.
About ten minutes later, I was disturbed by a torch flashing as someone came into my room. “Don’t worry, Miss,” I head Forbes’ voice say. “It’s only me. I thought I should check that you were all right after your punishment.”
“Oh, thank, you,” I said. It seemed best to be polite. “Yes, it’s all right if I lay on my side or my front.”
“Well, I’d just like to make sure.” I felt him pull back the blankets. He took the hem of my nightshirt and pulled it up to my waist. I could tell by the flash of the torch light that he was examining the cuts and bruises on my backside. Then he started stroking them, running his fingers along the lines of the wheals and then cupping my backside in his hands, evidently taking pleasure at the feel of the bruised flesh. “Yes,” he said. “They seem all right. I hope you understand, Miss, that I only do this to maintain discipline.” His hands started moving down from my buttocks towards the inside of my thighs. I bit my lip but, after the training and conditioning I’d received, I couldn’t help starting to respond to his touching.
Sergeant Forbes was beginning to notice that his attentions were not entirely unnoticed when his attention was distracted. “Forbes! Forbes!” I heard the Colonel’s voice calling.
Forbes leapt to his feet. “Sir!” he called. “I’ll be there immediately.” He turned back to me. “Right, settle down now, young lady,” he said. “And sleep with your hands outside the blankets. We don’t want any unpleasantness going on in the dormitories during the night do we?”
“No, sergeant,” I said, thinking that the most unpleasant thing, so far, was him. He got up and left. I heard him going downstairs, calling out, “Coming, Sir!” and then, thinking that the best thing I could do was to get some rest, I fell asleep.
I don’t know how long it was after that that I woke up again. Torches were flashing in the room and as I started to sit up one was shone right into my face.
“Shut her up,” a woman’s voice barked and a hand was clamped over my mouth. Others grasped my wrists and jerked them up to the rail of the bed. I felt something pulled around each of them tying them to the rail. As I struggled I caught glimpses of my assailants, three of the other girls, I assumed, all wearing their khaki tee-shirts and camouflage ski-masks. The hand came away from my mouth but before I could cry out something was pushed between my lips and a cloth was tied tightly around my mouth, making sure that I could not spit out whatever it was that was stifling my cries. More rope was added, spreading my legs by tying my ankles to each corner of the bed frame. “This is how we treat troublemakers. Giving Forbes ideas! ‘Take her example for punishment parade’ Last thing we need is him getting enthusiastic about things,” a voice hissed and my attackers left, leaving me helpless.
I was still tied to the bed when Forbes came into my room the following morning, looking for me.
“Oh, good heavens!” he exclaimed. “I will not have this horseplay in the barracks after lights out.” He untied my wrists. “Sort yourself out, Anderson and get downstairs in fatigues ready for breakfast.”
He’d left me to free my ankles myself and to take off the gag. It was only as I pulled the wad of cloth from my mouth that I realised my attackers had gagged me with a stocking and my own uniform panties.
Determined not to give my attackers any more amusement, I got washed and dressed quickly; making sure my uniform tee-shirt and trousers were neat and tidy. I didn’t want whoever it was that attacked me to have the satisfaction of seeing me look dishevelled after my ordeal.
When I got to the kitchen the rest of the girls were already sitting at the long wooden table. I thought I caught a glimpse of a smirk from Angie Connor and Lucy Banks, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Did you sleep all right?” said the Chinese girl to my left, Tsai Linn from Hong Kong, I guessed.
I nodded. “Yes, fine,” I said, helping myself to some cereal from the packets arrayed down the centre of the table.
“Oh, it’s just that I heard some noise in the night and thought it might have woken you.”
There was a muffled laugh from behind me where Angie and Lucy were sitting. Tsai Linn looked puzzled.
“No,” I said as much to the others as to Tsai Linn. “It would take more than that to disturb me.”
Forbes appeared in the kitchen and the chat around the table instantly stopped. He strode up and down the room behind us. “Right,” he said. “Kit inspection at 11 Ack Emma. Banks, you’ll assist Cadet Anderson. Make sure she gets things just right, won’t you?”
“Oh, yes Sergeant Forbes,” Lucy said with a grin. “I’ll be only too pleased to give her a few pointers.”
I had the feeling that this would mean more trouble if Lucy had been one of the girls that had attacked me but it was obvious that Forbes didn’t want to enter into a debate over which girl would be best suited to helping me.
“Good,” said Forbes. “Nice that you girls can all muck in together. Now one last thing before you all get off to your tasks. There was an unpleasant instance of bullying in the barracks last night. I will not put up with it. All you girls with the exception of Cadet Anderson will report for a physical education session in the gym immediately.”
I saw the distressed looks of the other girls at once. Quite a few of them were looking daggers at me. Then Forbes turned his attention to me. “And you, Anderson, if you could put on your dress uniform, you need to report to the Colonel for this morning’s activities. Then move all your kit down to this barrack room. I think it will be better if you are all in here together.”
I went back to my room. I wasn’t sure what Forbes meant by “dress uniform” but sorted through what there was in my cupboard. In the end I chose a white blouse with stiff red epaulettes, button down breast pockets and red tabs on the collar; a straight khaki skirt and a broad, black patent, leather belt. Tan stockings and a pair of high heeled, lace up shoes completed the outfit. I looked the part as far as I could tell.
I headed off to find the Colonel. On the way to his office I passed the gym. Inside, the others were being put through a punishing regime that combined physical jerks and beatings. Two of the girls were standing facing the wall, their hands flat on the tops of their heads, their shorts and pants around their ankles, their buttocks, raw from a thrashing. One other was bent across a vaulting horse as Forbes took aim with his cane. The others were jogging in a circle around the gym, their tee-shirts stained with the sweat of exertion from the exercise.
I hurried by, not wanting to be noticed by either the girls or Sergeant Forbes. I knocked on the door of the Colonel’s office. “Come!” he called from within.
I walked in and stood waiting for the Colonel to look up from his desk. He didn’t. “Yes?” he said irritably.
“It’s me Sir,” I said, “Sarah, err, sorry, Anderson, Sir. Sergeant Forbes said you wanted to see me.”
“He did, did he?” I was worried that I had been sent on a fool’s errand but then the Colonel seemed to reconsider, turned towards me and looked up. “Ah, good to see Forbes has got you into uniform anyway. Makes for smoother running around the house. Settling in with the other girls all right? I’m sure. Good, Good. Now, come over here.”
I walked across to stand beside where he was sitting.
“Good,” he said, now stand with your hands by your side, feet together, back straight. That’s better. Chest out! Don’t slouch! Better.” I could tell by his smirk that he was appreciating the shape of my breasts under my shirt. He reached up with one hand to brush away an imaginary mark from my shirt pocket. It took longer than necessary, even if there had been anything there. I stood still, tolerating his attentions, trying to suppress the response of my sexualisation conditioning and knowing that to object would only earn me a beating from Forbes or worse. “You’ll do, I suppose,” he sniffed. “Now here’s what I want doing. You can use Clegg’s systems, I assume?”
“Yes, Sir,” I said. I didn’t think I needed to elaborate.
“Fine. In which case I want you to sort out half a dozen more girls for me from his - what does he call it? - oh, yes, the ‘search and snatch’ service. I’m looking for some young ladies that might benefit from taking down a peg or two. I’m tired of seeing how we seem to be pushed around by the French, the Germans, or even the Belgians for heaven sake. I feel the need to have some of our European friends experience their proper position in Europe – under British direction and rule. So, see what you can do. I’ll want a short list of a dozen. I’ll be asking Clegg’s people to pick up six, I think. Just see what you can do, will you? The PC is in there,” he gestured to a side room. “You might as well get on with it.”
He didn’t wait for me to say anything, but span his wheel chair around and headed out of the room.
I spent the next hour working on the list for the Colonel. I’d almost finished when I heard Forbes bellowing outside. “Dog Handling detail – Atten… shun!” I glanced through the window Lucy and Eva were standing stiffly at attention. Still wearing their PT kit they also sported red armbands with the words “Dog Section” emblazoned on them. They both looked petrified, staring at a wire compound on the far side of the garden with trepidation. “Right,” shouted Forbes. “Detail to carry out feeding and exercise duties. At the double!”
Each of the girls picked up a metal dish that had already been piled high with food and a dog leash. Under Forbes’s supervision the two of them trotted across the garden to the compound, unfastening the wire mesh gate and letting themselves inside before shutting the gate behind them. At once there was a snarling and barking from a kennel in the corner of the compound, as two large Alsatian dogs, evidently chained by their collars lurched forward, out of their kennel and towards the girls. Terrified they put the feeding bowls down not far from the compound gate. The girls were obviously both scared by the dogs and with good cause; the animals appeared to be barely restrained by their chains. “Get on with it!” called Forbes as Lucy went to fasten her leash to the first of the dogs. The Alsatian was trying to push past her and practically knocked her to the floor of the compound in its attempt to reach the food. Lucy wisely didn’t try to stop it, allowing the dog to drag her half running across the compound. Eva had little more success in controlling her dog and soon both were feeding enthusiastically. Forbes ordered the girls to stand at attention while the dogs ate.
Satisfied with their food, the dogs were just about prepared to allow the girls to exercise them by walking them around their compound. From where I was watching it looked more like the dogs were exercising the girls than the other way around but eventually Forbes called a halt and told the girls to get the dogs back in their kennels. This brought forth more growls and barks but eventually the girls succeeded and left the compound in relief.
While this had been going on I’d carried on with my work but and then I realised that I had left myself almost no time in which to get ready for Forbes’s kit inspection. I hurried off to what had been my room, gathered up all my kit and ran down to the barracks room to find that the other girls had almost finished laying out their kit.
Luckily I was able to copy what they had done, putting my clothes and other items neatly in order on the bed. I was especially worried because my bed was nearest the door and that meant, I guessed, that it would be my bed that would be inspected first of all.
I wanted to ask Lucy why Forbes had the dogs but she cut me off, saying she didn’t have time to tell me about it because she had some important advice. I wasn’t sure that I trusted her, but Forbes had asked her to help me, so I guessed that it wouldn’t be smart of her to give me a wrong steer. She pointed out a couple of mistakes I’d made. I’d put my uniform shorts on the left of the bed with my spare bras and knickers below them when they should all have been on the right, and I hadn’t folded my drill t-shirts properly. I quickly corrected things and then, as we heard the sounds of Forbes and the Colonel approaching, she hissed, “Don’t forget when he calls you to attention you have to strip off your skirt and unbutton your blouse.”
I barely had time to pull myself to attention as Forbes and the Colonel came in. I suppose I was a bit naïve, but I guess I’m always ready to help people and I tend to think the best of others too. And, of course, since the training that I was put through at Clegg’s centre, I am only too willing to comply with anything that involves sexual activity. So, when Sergeant Forbes, called, “Cadet Anderson, atten – shun!” I clicked my heels together, straightened my back, stuck out my chest (to the noticeable approval of the Colonel), unzipped my skirt and unpopped the buttons of my blouse with a speed that meant that the Colonel had an excellent view of my breasts before my skirt had fallen around my ankles.
The Colonel looked delighted. Forbes looked furious; one eyebrow was twitching neurotically. Somewhere behind me there was a muffled guffaw as one or more of the other girls tried to stifle laughter.
“I see, Anderson,” Forbes fumed. “Determined to draw attention to yourself are you?” I didn’t get the chance to say anything. “Well you’ll have some attention from me all right!” Without another word he grabbed me by the back of my neck, span me around and bent me over the end rail of the bed. He dragged down my pants. Moments later I felt the painful crack of his cane across my naked buttocks; once, twice, three, four times. The last blow landed low cutting into the top of my thighs and practically pushing me forward onto the bed. “We’ll have inspection done in the usual manner here, Anderson,” Forbes hissed as he pulled me up again.
“Yes Sergeant,” I sobbed, the pain of the strokes, still throbbing in my backside. It was only as I straightened up that I saw the Colonel sat in his wheel chair, grinning greatly at the spectacle he had just witnessed and, from the movements of his hands beneath the blanket that was stretched across his lap, taking his usual pleasure as a result.
I was upset at the way that the some of the girls were teasing me. After all, I hadn’t done anything deliberately to make their lives more difficult. It looked like Lucy and Angie were out to make my life as difficult as possible. I didn’t think there was much point in reacting, though. As far as I could see that would only cause more trouble.
Eva had explained about the dogs. Apparently they were left to roam in the grounds at night both to deter any potential intruders and to discourage any of the girls from thoughts of escape. The girls were all terrified of being on dog handling duties. The things were virtually wild and it was hard to avoid being bitten.
I hoped that I’d be able to get out of working with the dogs, I’ve never liked the things, but, in the mean time, I had some other work to do, sorting out the Colonel’s recruitment problem.
I hated doing it, knowing that I was condemning the women to abduction, rape and torture. Forbes, however, took great delight in suggesting the various fates that might befall me if I wasn’t cooperative and once the other girls found out what was going on they made it pretty plain that I’d better help get some others as a way of making life easier for them. So, reluctantly, I’d helped the Colonel to build up a short list.
It hadn’t even taken that long. Clegg had just established a working relationship with one of the European organisations which meant that his on-line catalogue was now linked up their systems. I spent an afternoon going through the various sections of the site, matching up possible abductees with the Colonel’s requirements. At least, I thought, if I got this finished I could get back to the office and away from the unpleasant attentions of Snell, Forbes and the others.
Unfortunately it wasn’t to be. When I presented the Colonel with the short list he seemed quite happy but he wasn’t in any hurry to send me back to Clegg and his organisation.
“No, no,” he said when I suggested that I could be getting back. “No. You’ve done an excellent job so far and I’d like you to see it through. Keep an eye on progress. See how Clegg’s boys and girls are getting on. You can be my liaison officer for this.” With that he waved me away.
It was only a little later that I got myself into trouble with Angie and Lucy again. And I managed to upset Mylene too.
I was coming back from working on the Colonel’s short list when I caught up with Tsai Linn in the corridor. At the far end Angie and Lucy were busily polishing the wood and brass work around the front door, going about it in just the strict way that Forbes prescribed. Mylene was helping as best she could with one arm in a sling. She was holding the tray containing the array of cleaning materials, each in their colour coded and numbered bottles. Angie and Lucy went about their task with almost mathematical precision. “They’re really doing it by numbers, aren’t they?” I whispered to Tsai Linn. “I’m surprised Forbes hasn’t got them satisfying the Colonel’s enthusiasm with some drill or other. Zip down, two three. Penis out two three. Hand on member and grip, two three. Hand down, two three. Hand up, two…” Tsai Linn’s smiling face suddenly turned to a look of horror as she saw something behind me and at once I knew I was in trouble.
“What a very interesting idea, Cadet Anderson,” I heard Forbes say.
I turned around. Forbes didn’t look amused. In an attempt to bluff my way out of trouble, I said, “Oh, sorry, Sergeant, it’s just that I know the Colonel likes everything just so. I really didn’t mean to be…”
Forbes looked as though he didn’t believe a word of what I was saying but neither was he in the least bit concerned. “Not at all. I intend to try it out. In fact, we will work on it this evening. Join us in the gym at twenty hundred hours.” He stalked off down the corridor to talk to the three others.
Tsai Linn was sympathetic but I could imagine that this was going to cause more problems and if I was seen to be behind it, I’d be in more trouble too.
I reported to the gym at eight o’clock as ordered and there to see Forbes, Angie and Lucy waiting. “Excellent,” Forbes called. “On time, I’m glad to see.” So was I. I had no wish for a repetition of my first nights punishment. “Well, as the one behind this idea, I thought you would want to see it put into action.” Lucy and Angie looked at me with a look of puzzlement and distrust.
Moments later the doors to the gym opened and Tsai Linn came in pushing a wheel chair. In the chair was Mylene. She’d been dressed in one of the Colonel’s outfits, a pair of check trousers, a pale shirt and a dark green tie. She’d been tied up by her wrist to the arms of the wheel chair and gagged with a strip of tape across her mouth. Two further items served to ensure she represented the Colonel as well as she could; her tits had been strapped flat against her chest, which given their size must have been painful, and a false moustache that was a reasonable facsimile of Basher’s had been fastened to her upper lip. It was clear that she was unhappy with her fancy dress from the way that she was wriggling on the chair and grunting into her gag.
“Be still!” barked Forbes cracking his swagger stick on the wheel of her chair. Startled, Mylene stopped her struggles. “Right,” Forbes said turning to the two other girls. “We’ll try this drill now. You heard the Doctor, this RS - bloody - I results from inadequate exercise.” That wasn’t what I had understood but I didn’t think there would be any prizes for interruptions so I kept quiet. “So, we will practice. Connor,” Angie stiffened instinctively in response. “By the wheelchair, kneel. Good. Now, right arm behind your back and with the left hand, unfasten the trouser zip.”
Angie looked confused but did as she was ordered. As the zip slid back, an artificial phallus of unlikely dimensions sprang out, startling the Canadian.
“Don’t jump, girl,” Forbes snapped.
“Sorry, Sergeant,” Angie apologised.
“Right, now, with the left hand, manipulate the member. Hand down, hand up. Hand down, hand up. And grip. … And relax. And repeat.” Angie followed Forbes’s instructions and as she did so it became evident that Mylene was becoming aroused. “Very good,” said Forbes. “The whole thing is linked up so that Miss Dobbs will experience some pleasurable sensations if you are doing it right and, oops!” Mylene squealed in pain as Angie moved her hand. “And some less pleasurable ones if you are not. You’d better keep your mind on what you are doing if you don’t want to cause your friend more discomfort than is absolutely necessary. Keep going! Just the left hand, mind. That’s it. Hand down. Hand up. Hand down. Hand Up. And grip. And relax. And repeat.” Mylene’s squeals were becoming confused from the mixture of pain and pleasure that overwhelmed her as Angie continued with the drill. Forbes insisted that Angie continue for fifteen minutes and then had Lucy change places with her. For Mylene, though there was no respite and an hour all three of them were looking daggers at me.
Moments later the Colonel buzzed down and asked for me to be sent up to see him. I wasn’t sorry to leave the other girls to their task.
“The Colonel wants a progress report,” Forbes had put his head around the door to the cubby hole where I was working at my PC.
“Yes, Sergeant,” I said, picking up the folder that held my notes on the latest position on the project.
“Right,” said Forbes, as I got up. “Ten – shun, cap on, left face, quick march!”
I’d done enough drill with the other girls to be able to follow his orders as he marched me down the corridor and into the conservatory at the back of the house. Inside, sweltering in the artificially heated and humidified environment, the colonel was amusing himself with his collection of tropical spiders.
Almost as soon as I stepped through the door I could feel the sweat pour off me, soaking my shirt and dripping down my cheek from the leather band of my uniform beret.
“Right face, one, two, halt. Cap – off!” Forbes barked. “Anderson, sir. With your report,” he said to the colonel.
“Thank you, sergeant,” Snell replied. “Stand easy.”
“Anderson! Stand at – ease. Stand easy.”
I relaxed with relief. The heat and humidity was oppressive enough without having to stand rigidly. The colonel picked a particularly large and unpleasant looking spider from the broad leaf of a plant that overhung his wheel chair. He peered at it disapprovingly as he dropped it into a Perspex box. “Nasty things,” he said. “Vicious, violent, poisonous. Just like most people, what?” He turned towards me. “So, how is the project progressing? Are Clegg’s team on track?”
“Quite well, Sir,” I began. “If you’d like to look at these photographs, here…”
“Just tell me girl, just tell me.” He turned his attention back to the spider.
I carried on explaining things. “The Research Group has developed a detailed profile of all five of the targets and they have identified opportunities for collecting each of them. Two of them should be in the hands of Mr Clegg’s people by the weekend, the remainder in the following five days.
“And the collection approach? Thing I like about is Clegg is he runs his collections like military operations. Quite envy him, you know. Small teams of troops. Clear objectives. Proper briefing. That’s the way to do it. Isn’t that so, Forbes?”
“Sir!” Forbes responded.
I told the colonel how I’d communicated his requirements to Clegg’s people and that I was sure that Clegg’s operations would be executed as effectively as ever. He seemed satisfied but was keen to have a detailed report on the collections when they had occurred.
Suddenly outside the conservatory there was a loud barking and growling. Eva went by at a run, evidently being dragged along by one of the dogs. The Colonel turned to his Sergeant. “Your handlers need to keep those dogs under better control, Forbes,“ he said disapprovingly. “See that one gets a bit more practice.”
By the time I’d finished briefing the Colonel, I was dripping with sweat from the heat and humidity in the conservatory. I took the opportunity of a quiet few minutes to slip off to the showers at the end of the dormitory block. All the other girls were off at their duties so I had the shower block to myself. It didn’t take a moment to slip out of my uniform and soon I was enjoying the stream of hot water and the feel of the soap on my skin. I’d just worked the shampoo into my hair when I heard a whirring noise behind me. I didn’t think anything of it at first but then, when I turned around to let the jet of water from the shower stream down my back, I found I was being watched by the Colonel, grinning from ear to ear, his hands busy under the blanket across his lap. The whirring had been the sound of his electric wheelchair coming into the shower block.
I gave a squeal of shock. “Don’t mind me, dear,” he responded. “You carry on. Glad to see you taking cleanliness seriously. Lack of cleanliness causes all sorts of problems in the field. Get into the right habits in the barracks and they’ll stay with you in the field.”
“Yes sir,” I said, almost feeling I ought to be saluting but instead making a feeble effort to cover my breasts with one arm and my crotch with the other and a face cloth. My ineffectual efforts only served to amuse the Colonel more. In the end I decided that he wasn’t going to leave so I might as well get on and enjoy the shower I’d been planning to have. I soaped myself and then rinsed off. I reached up to the shower head to take it from its fitting so that I could rinse my hair properly and sprayed the jet so the water ran down through my hair and over my shoulders. I stretched up again to put the shower head back and then realising that I’d dropped the soap bent forward to pick it up.
The last movement must have been too much for the Colonel. I heard him give an “Ahh!” and then heard the whirring of his wheel chair again. As I turned around I saw him disappearing through the door of the shower block. I was able to get dried and dressed without being further disturbed.
That evening when we had all finished work, Forbes was supervising us as we got ready for bed. He stood in the middle of the barrack room, arms folded, watching closely as we all undressed. As usual, once we’d undressed, we had to stand to attention, naked at the foot of our beds to wait for his orders. He didn’t worry that it was freezing; in fact he seemed to be taking a particular delight in the way that some of the girls’ nipples had perked up in the cold of the barrack room. Eventually we were all standing, waiting for his word. He strolled up and down the room, inspecting each of us closely. When he got to me he ran the tip of his cane across my belly and up between my breasts, bringing it to rest under my chin. “Had no more trouble with the other girls, have you Anderson?” he asked.
“No, Sergeant,” I responded.
“Glad to hear it,” he said. “No room for disruptive elements here. Disturbs discipline. Prejudicial to good order in the unit. Understand?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
Forbes gave a “hmm,” and turned back to the room. “Right. Squad! Squad, into bed!” Grateful to be excused his further attentions all of the girls climbed quickly into their beds, all laying as instructed, flat on our backs with our arms outside the bedclothes. “Good night!” he barked as he turned on his heel and marched out of the barrack room. I heard the door slam and lock. Moments later the light went out.
We all knew better than to start talking. Tsai Linn had told me of times when Forbes had overheard the girls talking after lights out and had come back into the barrack room, gagged all of them and shackled them to their beds for the night. Nobody wanted another dose of that.
Even so, after about ten minutes, Lucy hissed, “I hope you’re ready to take your medicine, Anderson.”
Somebody else went “Shhh! He’ll hear!”
“No he won’t,” Lucy said, “He’s off tonight. I heard the Colonel telling him it would be all right. He’s gone down into town for a concert by the band of his old regiment. He won’t be back for hours and when he is, he’ll be as pissed as anything.” Sure enough after a moment or two I heard the sounds of a car starting up outside and driving off. In no time at all, Angie and Lucy were sitting on my bed, one on either side pinning me down. Mylene was perched at the end. “You’ve caused us a lot of grief,” she said.
“Yes,” pitched in Angie, “first of all making more work for us, then getting us into trouble with that punishment drill session.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” I protested. “That was because you tied me up in bed.”
“You let on who it was.”
“I didn’t. It was just that Forbes found me like that. I couldn’t get free. It wasn’t my fault that he punished you.”
“Then there was that stupid idea about wanking by numbers.” Lucy added her complaint.
“Oh, I know that was my fault, but I didn’t mean for Forbes to overhear.”
“Of course you didn’t. It’s just that you don’t know when to keep your mouth shut. Well, you’re going to learn!” Angie pulled back the bed clothes and the two others leapt on me. Mylene grabbed my wrists and twisted them behind me. Lucy pushed my face down into the pillow until I was almost unable to breath. I felt something being tied around my wrists. Then Angie I guessed, went to work on my ankles, tying them as well. “That’s got her,” said Angie and Lucy let go my head. As I gasped for breath a wad of cloth was pushed into my mouth and a strip pulled over it to gag me. The three of them pulled me up so I was sitting on the bed. I saw Tsai Linn get out of bed and come running over.
“Please leave her,” she said. “She didn’t mean any harm. It’s not fair of you to bully her like this.” Angie, Lucy and Mylene exchanged glances. Lucy nodded and the three of them were on their feet immediately.
“If you’re so keen on her, you get the same treatment,” Angie said as Mylene and Lucy grabbed Tsai Linn. Although she struggled she could not prevail against the three of them and soon she was dumped down on the bed beside me, bound and gagged as well.
Outside, the dogs had been let loose in the grounds by Forbes as he had left. Disturbed by what was going on inside the house they were snarling and barking, jumping up at the wire mesh that covered the windows of the dormitory. Mylene backed away startled by one of the dogs as he jumped up at the window. Angie and the others ignored their barking and soon it calmed down.
“Anyone else want to try?” Angie called out to the dormitory. There weren’t any replies.
Looking at Tsai Linn, I could see that we had both been bound with strips of cloth torn from bed sheets. It mightn’t have been very sophisticated but it certainly worked. I tried flexing my wrists to try to loosen my bonds but with no effect. Mylene rewarded my attempts by jerking my ankles back and linking the strip of cloth that held them to my wrists in a hog-tie. She turned to the other girls. “I know what I want to do for this one,” she said, “after sitting in that wheel chair all afternoon. Where’s that strap-on that I was wearing?”
Angie produced the strap-on and harness from one of the bedside cupboards and Mylene quickly buckled it on. Kneeling on the bed in front of me she unfastened my gag and snarled, “I had to spend all afternoon in this, now you can get a taste of it.” She pushed the dildo up against my lips.
Instantly, in my mind, I was back in the sex-training suite in Clegg’s Prep Centre. My conditioning kicked in and I was soon sucking greedily on the artificial penis. “Hey, you’re not supposed to enjoy that,” said Mylene trying to back away. I wriggled after her as best as my bonds would allow.
“She’s really keen, isn’t she?” laughed Lucy as I dived forward, my tongue licking at the soft pink rubber dildo. Mylene tried to push my head away. I whimpered in frustration at being denied the sexual contact that my conditioning demanded and wriggled some more. Mylene edged backwards and tumbled off the bed, me following, by now highly aroused. As Mylene tried to recover herself, I was pressing my naked body against hers, now trying to nuzzle at her neck, next trying to kiss and lick her tits.
It took a giggling Lucy and Angie to drag me off her.
“She practically raped me!” complained Mylene. “She’s tied up and she practically raped me!”
There was a noise from the corridor.
“Oh shit,” Angie exclaimed, “Forbes is back. Quick!” She forced the gag back into my mouth, while Mylene clambered out of the strap on harness. Angie, Lucy and Mylene pushed Tsai Linn and me under the covers of my bed and dived back into their own cots just as the door opened.
Forbes was silhouetted in the door way, the beam of his torch bouncing erratically around the barrack room. “Where’s my girls?” he slurred, evidently the worse for a drink while out at the concert. “Where’s all my lovely girls? I hope you’re being good. Got to keep discipline. Are you being good?”
Tsai Linn and I were pressed together under the bedclothes, my naked body against hers. Still aroused by the sexual activities of before, I couldn’t prevent myself pressing against her, first trying to manoeuvre my head into a position where I could nuzzle at her small breasts and then pressing my thighs against her own. Even with Forbes as drunk as he was he couldn’t fail to notice the movement beneath my bedclothes. The torch beam fell on our faces as he pulled back the blanket.
“Oh, hoh! Oh, very hoh!” he exclaimed in a slur as he pulled all the bedclothes from us. “What have we here? Two girls playing together? That’s not right! Two girls playing kinky games? That’s not right either. Not right at all. Must have discipline! Need to be shown what’s the right order of things. Anderson? Dear, dear, dear! Linn? Dear, dear, dear! I’ll show you the way things should be.” With that he stood back and began unfastening his trousers. He pulled out his thick stubby cock and dragged me up from the bed by my hair. “Now if you want to play young lady, this is what you should be playing with. Look after the Sergeant and he’ll look after you.” He pulled my gag away and pushed my head down towards his crotch. Surprised that I needed no further urging he grunted happily as I set to licking and sucking at his member as it became progressively stiffer and more engorged. It didn’t get much longer but if certainly got fatter as I kissed and nuzzled against it. Forbes started singing, a military march that he’d obviously heard that evening, “Some talk of Alexander….” The stiffer his cock got, the louder he sang. “And some of Hercules, of Hector and Lysander and such great names as these….” He pulled his cock from my mouth, laughed as I tried to push back towards him, and took to mauling my breasts instead. Then poor Tsai Linn, who had been struggling against her ties on the bed was brought into Forbes’s games. “Let’s take this one, she’ll have a tight little cunt,” Forbes smirked, rolling Tsai Linn over and then pulling her up so her buttocks were in the air. He crouched behind her trying to take her from behind. She was whimpering in fear and disgust. He pulled my head up to Tsai Linn’s tits. “Go on,” he urged. “You have some fun too!” He was pinching and squeezing my breasts as I kissed and suckled at Tsai Linn’s nipples. I felt each stroke as he pushed against Tsai Linn’s arse. “But of all the world’s great heroes,” he sang getting louder all the time. “There’s none that can compare….” He grunted, evidently close to orgasm. “With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, row, for the British Grenadiers!” His body bucked against Tsai Linn, his hands squeezed tighter on my tits and he came with a grunt and an even louder “BRITISH GRENADIERS!!”
The dogs outside answered his bellows with snapping and yowling.
Forbes fell back on the bed, sated. He had one arm around Tsai Linn’s neck and one around mine dragging us to lie alongside him on the bed, our heads up close against his armpits. “You’re nice to old Forbesie,” he slurred. “My nice girls. Good to their Sergeant. Look after your Sergeant and he’ll look after you.” In another instant he was asleep, snoring deeply in a drunken stupor with his arms still rigidly locked around our necks. We had no choice but to try to sleep as best we could.
At some point in the night Forbes recovered consciousness, unwound himself from the two of us and slunk away. It took Tsai Linn and I the rest of the night to struggle free of our bonds.
© 2007 Freddie Clegg
All characters fictitious.
All characters fictitious.
Sarah and Basher feature in
Freddie’s story “Market Forces” available here.
Download PDF copies of other Freddie
Clegg stories at :
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freddies_tales/
The following morning Forbes appeared in the dormitory looking rather the worse for wear. From the pinkness of his skin he looked as if he had stood in a shower for half an hour to shake off the effects of the previous night. His brow was slightly furrowed as though he was using the muscles in his temples to keep the top of his head from falling in.
The morning inspection was perfunctory; the girls happy to be excused his usual attentions. It was after he’d finished checking each of the kit layouts in turn that he told me I’d be checking up on the progress that Clegg’s people had made for another report to the Colonel that evening.
I didn’t expect there to have been much activity since the day before but I guessed that Forbes was simply keen to get what he saw as a disruptive influence away from the other girls without him needing to do anything.
Luckily, when I logged into Clegg’s network, it turned out that they had picked up the first two already and I was able to spend my time writing that up in a report for the Colonel.
The reports of Clegg’s operations teams made scary reading. The blunt, matter-of-fact tones in which Harry’s people wrote up their post operation notes made you realise just how little they thought about the consequences of their actions. L101’s the forms were called. Everyone hated them and even Harry didn’t push people if they were a bit late in getting them in unless it was an important job. You could tell a lot about the person filling the form in from the way they wrote it. Usually the better and more competent the operative, the simpler and more straightforward the L101. “Flowery language usually means a fuzzy mind,” Harry always says. I could imagine that the Colonel would agree with him.
The L101 for the first pick up bordered on the terse. “Potato #1 and #2 arrived on time, #1 driving a Porsche 944, now garaged as asset #07/00989” it began (field operatives always refer to their targets as “potatoes” because they get “lifted”), “and both appeared to have completely accepted the legend we’d given them and were following their script exactly.” (“Legend” was the term for the deception used to entice a target to a venue; “script” was the set of actions the target had been directed to follow or was expected to carry out.” P1, known by my research work to me as Barbara, had been invited with her friend to discuss a possible TV role. Already known as a presenter on Belgian TV, she’d built up a reputation for schmoozing the Belgian jet-set and was renowned for her spiteful, arrogant treatment of hotel staff, restaurant waiters, and the like. We’d had no trouble finding folk to fill us in on her foibles and weaknesses. P2, Isabelle, had a similar attitude by all accounts but she’d got her position and money from a series of advantageous marriages. They had become friends a few months earlier and were often to be seen together drinking and partying in the smarter clubs of Brussels and Antwerp. The two of them, the legend had suggested, would make the ideal couple to front a series to be called “Inside L.A.” and, subject to a very confidential discussion, they could both find themselves in receipt of a substantial fee and with the opportunity to shift up a notch in international celebrity ranking. At a venue chosen by Harry’s team the two women arrived in time to be greeted by drugged drinks, two of Clegg’s transport boxes and an appropriate quantity of ropes, straps and mouth sealing tape.
They wasted no time consuming the drink so it wasn’t too long, according to the L101, before the other items came into play. “It was hard to tell,” the L101 said, “whether the anaesthetic was strictly necessary or whether the amount of alcohol consumed alone would have been sufficient for our purposes. Both girls showed an enthusiastic acceptance of hospitality that speeded the process of lifting.”
The collection of Patricia, Katherine and Helen – well Countess Helen to give her the proper title – was a bit more of a problem. The research reports showed that all three of them led a hectic social life. It hardly seemed like there was any time when it would be possible to get them alone, and that included night times when all three enjoyed a procession of boyfriends through their bedrooms. One possible opportunity presented itself when Rick’s research team identified that the three of them had been invited to spend time in the Aegean on the yacht owned by Helen’s uncle. Freddie’s team soon established that the three of them had fallen into the sort of routine that always presents opportunities for a lift. The days were spent sunbathing on the yacht’s foredeck. Even through binoculars it was apparently easy to tell that the girls had been upsetting the crew; demanding they take time out to fetch them sun cream, to find towels, or to fetch them drinks. As the sun set came they would head off in the yacht’s tender to the nearby port in search of an evening’s clubbing. The boat would wait there, often until dawn when they staggered back to the jetty, usually the worse for the evenings drink. Whichever unlucky member of the crew had been assigned to ferry them across got to wait around – usually in one of the harbour side bars. Typically they’d be gone from the yacht for six or seven hours. That gave Harry’s team plenty of time.
Patricia, Katherine and Countess Helen were grabbed before they got to their first club, according to the L101. “P1 grabbed when she emerged from a bar while the other two were still inside using the washrooms. P2 and P3 went in search of their friend and split up. P2 collected as she entered the alley at the side of the same bar. P3 (Countess Helen) was followed and lifted as she took a short cut around the back of one of the clubs. She took a little longer to subdue being rather more athletic than her friends. Sounds of the music spilling out of the club masked her squeals. All three girls were stripped, bound gagged and shipped out from the port to our own boat. Meanwhile the yacht tender was taken, driven out of the harbour and up towards a rocky headland where it was scuttled, together with some of the girls clothes and belongings.” The L101 indicated that reports in the local paper suspected that the girls had returned to the harbour, taken their boat out in a drunken state, overturned it and drowned. Their analysis suited Clegg’s organisation.
After a few hours on the PC I was able to reassure the Colonel that all had gone according to plan and that Clegg’s operation had the five women that he had requested in their hands. With that done, I was able to take a few moments to think about my own problems.
After the indignities that Tsai Linn had suffered after coming to my defence I felt that the least I could do was to apologise to her. I sought her out while she was cleaning in the kitchen, taking the chance to slip away from my work while Forbes had sneaked out for a cigarette around the back of the house. “I’m so sorry about last night, Tsai Linn,” I said.
“Not for you to be sorry,” she said, smiling in a reassuring way. “Not your fault at all. Those other girls. Most unfair. I think such behaviour is most incorrect. We may be slaves here but we are not animals. We should look after each other. Mylene, Angie and Lucy need to know they cannot bully others with impunity.”
As we finished our conversation Mylene and Lucy came into the kitchen carrying piles of dirty plates in from the dining room.
“Hoping to set up another kinky session, Anderson?” sneered Lucy. I ignored her. “Or did you enjoy yourself so much you want another go, Tsai Linn?” The girl from Hong Kong simply smiled at her but then went on with her work.
Forbes voice called from the corridor outside. “Dobbs, Connor, Banks!” he shouted. “At the double!” Lucy, Mylene and Angie put the plates down and dashed out in response to the call.
“Don’t worry,” said Tsai Linn. “Their bad behaviour will not go unrewarded.”
I never did work out exactly how Tsai Linn managed it but Lucy, Mylene and Angie all suffered unfortunate incidents over the next few days, resulting in punishments from Forbes.
After Lucy had been ordered to clean the living areas the discovery of a stale sandwich lodged behind one of the cushions on the couch brought her up before Forbes and the Colonel on a charge of dereliction of duty. Sentenced to twenty five strokes from Forbes’s cane, she spent the next two days unable to sit or lay on her back.
Mylene had discovered that Forbes hardly ever used the downstairs lavatory and had managed to disable the smoke detector that was fastened to the ceiling. She had even somehow been able to swivel the lens around on the CCTV camera so that its field of view was restricted sufficiently to allow her to sneak in there to enjoy one of the cigarettes she stole from either Forbes’s or the Colonel’s supply. Unfortunately the camera lens somehow got pushed back and Mylene was confronted with the video evidence of her wrong doing. Another beating left her bruised and sore.
Angie had been accumulating a secret stash of chocolate bars. Forbes enjoyed all sorts of chocolate but was particularly fond of large bars of dark, cocoa rich, chocolate that reminded him of his times in Central America. Angie had managed to steal half a dozen bars. Taking one at a time, only stealing a bar when there were six or seven in the pile in Forbes’s room and only taking them when Forbes had been out on one of his merry drinking sprees. She had hidden them behind a cupboard in one of the unused rooms. Somehow they found their way into Angie’s locker, only to fall out at Forbes’s feet during a kit inspection. She was summarily taken to the gym, strapped to the wall bars and thrashed by Forbes who was furious at the theft.
As was always the case all the girls were assembled to watch the punishments. Throughout Tsai Linn watched impassively. The others didn’t seem to bother her or me after that.
Who did bother me was Forbes. That evening he announced I was assigned to be assigned to the Colonel’s “relief duty” and I had a pretty good idea of what that would involve. The others all looked grateful. After Forbes had seen all the others into their beds he escorted me up to the Colonel’s quarters. Basher was already in bed, lying on his back in monogrammed pyjamas, a sleep mask over his eyes.
“That you, Forbes?” he barked as we came in.
“Sir!” Forbes exclaimed.
“Fine. Who’s on relief detail this evening?”
“New girl, Sir. Cadet Anderson.”
“Fine, fine,” Snell responded. “Might as well make use of her while she’s here. Set her up and then you can go.”
“Yes, sir,” said Forbes. He pointed to the floor beside the Colonel’s bed and had me kneel down. Reaching under the bed he pulled out a short length of chain and looped it around my neck before fastening it with a padlock. It didn’t take much thinking about to realise I wouldn’t be moving any distance from where I was until the chain was unlocked.
“That’ll do, Sergeant,” the Colonel said as the padlock clicked shut.
Behind me I heard Forbes snap himself to attention. “Good night, Sir,” he said and the door closed.
With Forbes gone I stayed put, not that I had much choice, hoping that the Colonel would doze off without requiring my services. It was a forlorn hope. “Anderson,” he barked.
“Yessir, Colonel, sir,” I responded.
“Don’t shout girl, I’m trying to get to sleep here. Now you won’t know the drill so here it is. You take your pretty little fingers and see what you can find inside my pyjama trousers. Just make sure it stays stiff until I get to sleep. Never could sleep without a good pull. And watch your finger nails too. They way some of you girls go at this I could be scarred for life.”
“Yes sir,” I answered quietly, reaching up to untie the cord of his trousers. I was quite surprised to discover he was completely shaved. (“That’s one thing he’s never asked any of us to do,” said Tsai Linn when I mentioned it to her.) Whether years of masturbation had worn it down or not I’ve no idea but it took me some feeling around to find his cock.
“Good grief girl, stop fumbling and get on with it,” Snell complained.
“Sir!” I said, gripping hold of the short stubby projection that I’d finally managed to get hold of. Almost at once it started to grow. With surprising rapidity a penis that had felt not much larger than my own thumb, swelled to four times the thickness and five times the length. That I was having the desired effect was clear from the Colonel’s breathing which had become deeper and more rhythmical. I’d been forced to jerk off some of Clegg’s guards many times of course and the sexualisation programme had made me practice for hours at a stretch (well at a squeeze as well, really) but what was surprising was that once the Colonel’s erection was fully formed he just seemed to lapse into a relaxed state with no sign that he was approaching orgasm. No matter how I squeezed, pulled, teased or stroked, the Colonel continued in his half asleep state, his cock rigid in my hands. At the slightest sign of slacking on my part, the Colonel was quick to encourage me to renew my efforts and to remind me that Forbes’s cane would surely await any failure to continue.
Eventually after an hour or more, the sounds of the Colonel’s heavy breathing were replaced by the unmistakable sound of snoring. Finally I felt able to stop, allowing his cock to shrink back. I slipped down beside the Colonel’s bed, clutching my aching wrist, almost sobbing with the pain in my fingers. As I did so, taking the weight from my knees, I realised that I had been kneeling for so long that my knees and legs were virtually numb. I toppled over to lay on the floor, the chain to my neck just long enough to allow me to lay down. With the pain in my joints almost enough to make me cry out I curled up as best I could to try to sleep. It wasn’t helped by the constant sound of the Colonel’s snoring.
I slept fitfully but eventually fell into a deep sleep which was only disturbed by the arrival of Forbes the following morning. He helped the Colonel into his wheel chair and then unchained me. “Off you go Anderson,” Forbes said. “Plenty to do today.”
“Yes, Sergeant,” I said trying to stand as smartly as I could in spite of the aches in my mistreated limbs.
As I left the Colonel’s bedroom I heard the Colonel say to Forbes, “Not too bad, that one. Seems to have a bit more strength in her wrist than some of those girls. You can have her on relief duty again, soon.” Not for the first time I was sorry to have done such a good job.
The Colonel was quite insistent. “I want a detailed report on the training of all of these girls,” he said. “I’m sure Clegg’s people can set it up so you can do it from here.”
He was right of course. All the training rooms back at the Prep Centre had CCTV and Rick was able to set up a link with the Colonel’s PC so I could follow what was going on. Some of it made pretty unpleasant viewing, especially knowing that I was responsible for the girls being there.
Here’s the first part of my report on Barbara, for example:-
Barbara’s first training session
followed immediately after she was put through the Centre’s admission process.
It was clear from her responses that she objected to being weighed, measured
and fitted with her collar. She failed to cooperate with the admissions clerk
by providing the necessary personal details for her files. As a consequence,
her gag was replaced pending use of more intensive interrogation techniques.
She was still wearing the dress that she had on at the time of her abduction –
a long, cream dress in an off-the shoulder style - but by now it was streaked
with stains and the skirt was torn as a result of the treatment received during
her capture. She was sitting on a solitary chair in the middle of one of the
small training cells, her wrists still bound behind her and her mouth taped
shut.
She looked up at the arrival of the
chief trainer. I could see from her look that she was impressed by his
appearance. Always a smart dresser, he was wearing a black Armani suit over a
black open necked shirt. Barbara looked at him as much as to say, “Hmm, if
you’re my captor, maybe this won’t be so bad.” She was cocking her head to one
side in a way that invited the suspicion that she was flirting. He pulled the
tape clear of her mouth. She straightened herself up. He appeared pleased by
the view this afforded him of her breasts and cleavage.
“You seem like a man of taste,” she
said.
He looked at her for a moment. “I have
that reputation,” he replied. “Although unfortunately, for you my dear, I also
have a reputation for ruthlessness and my primary interest at present is to see
that you are properly prepared and trained.”
“I can see you know what you want,”
Barbara responded. “I admire that. I might even confess to being aroused by a
ruthless and handsome man. Why don’t you free me and we can see how we can
amuse ourselves.”
The chief trainer gave her a tolerant
smile. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I don’t think you’ve yet understood how things
work here. I just needed to be satisfied that you would be ready to start this
morning. My admissions clerk had some difficulty in getting the required data,
I understand.”
“I’m not keen on talking to minions,”
Barbara said with a smile. “I prefer dealing with the boss.”
“So I see,” he replied. “No matter. I see
no reason why we cannot proceed. We will talk again soon, I am sure.”
“I’ll look forward to that,” Barbara
said. Ignoring her, he replaced her tape gag and left the cell. I knew what
would happen next. I knew she was under estimating her captors. I knew that
they would just see her flirtatious approach as another tool to break her.
It didn’t take long for it to start. One
of the orderlies that clean the cells appeared, carrying a bucket, broom and
shovel. Barbara, ignored him as he swept around her, peering disdainfully at
him, in spite of the fact that her wrists were tied and her mouth taped shut.
He finished his sweeping and turned towards her. “Hey,” he said, “you’re the
new cunt, ain’t you?”
She looked back at him with shock. He
grabbed her by her arm and half dragged her, half threw her across the room to
a mattress that lay on the floor in one corner.
“Let’s see if you’re any good,” he
smirked, pulling at the belt of his trousers. He looped it around her neck
earning a terrified look in return. “I think you know what I want,” the cleaner
grinned as he pushed his trousers down. She shook her head in protest. He
reached forward and pulled off the tape that gagged her.
“No, stop,” she said, as the gag came
clear. “Your boss, he was just here, talking to me. He won’t want you to be
doing this.”
The cleaner laughed. “You’ve got a big
mouth – it needs filling.” He reached behind her head grabbed a hank of hair
and twisted. The pain made her squeal. He laughed, his cock stiffening at the
sound of her distress. Her eyes widened as he pulled her head towards his
crotch, pushing his thick salty member between her protesting lips. She gagged
and choked as he thrust against the back of her throat. He came quickly,
pulling clear of her mouth, leaving a trail of his cum, dripping from it down
onto her dress. She coughed and moaned as he pulled his trousers up, only to
see one of the man’s colleagues appear at the door of the cell.
“Hey Ted,” her assailant called. “You
finished cleaning out those sluices?
There’s a new piece in here. You wanna try her out?”
“No, please,” begged Barbara.
“Why not,” said Ted, stepping into the
cell and unzipping his coveralls. He took her the same way, holding her head
hard against his crotch as his cock throbbed inside her mouth. Ignoring her
struggles and choking grunts, he kept up a constant stream of chatter with his
friend. “Did you see the game last night? Yeah, rubbish weren’t they. Have you
heard if the new valves and pumps are in yet? Those sluices are in a terrible
state! Fuck knows what I had to wade through to clear that last blockage. Is
this the only new piece or have we got some more new toys around the place this
week? You up for a drink when we get off? Yeah? Great. Still gotta get on, I
guess.” And with that he climaxed, pushing more cum into her mouth and down her
throat. As he let go of her head she fell back, coughing. He reached down and
pulled at her skirt, using it to wipe himself off. Then he looped a length of
chain around her neck, fastened it with a padlock and then padlocked the other
end to a ring set in the wall. “There you go darling,” he said. “We wouldn’t
want you wandering off before the other guys have had their go, would we.” Barbara looked up in horror as the two men
left the cell, locking the door behind them.
By the third day she appeared completely
disorientated by the abuse. Still chained by her neck to the wall, the remnants
of her dress and underwear hung in tatters from her body. She would look up as
soon as anyone entered her cell, opening and closing her lips like a goldfish
in the expectation that she would be expected to use her mouth to pleasure
whoever was next to confront her.
Working with the CCTV meant I could check up on the progress of any of the girls as they went through their initial training. As well as getting them used to being used sexually, the Prep Centre tries to give them some basic household skills. That’s a problem for some of the women that are brought in, especially if they’ve come from a privileged background like the women that had been collected for the Colonel. Take Isabel for example…..
“Day 5: Isabel completed her basic
sexual orientation training yesterday and now seems able to take partners
orally, vaginally or anally without resistance. In spite of her large mouth
which indicated a potential talent for oral sex, it appears that she is
relatively inexperienced in that area and will need further practice if she is
to move from initial reluctance through acceptance to proficiency. However it
is recognised that this is of relative unimportance in her planned position.
Work has started on domestic training and has already encountered problems due
to her background. First difficulties occurred when she was instructed to put
on her overalls so that she could complete a cleaning duty assignment. At first
she refused to do this claiming that the uniform was demeaning. Although her
trainer pointed out that this was the intention she continued to object,
earning a beating.”
Beatings form an important part of the
training approach although Clegg’s team are careful not to allow it to become a
ritualised focus for the trainee. Some slaves have been found to suppress their
resistance to training by using the pain of beatings as a demonstration of
regard by the trainers for their trainees. To avoid this punishments are
frequently given without warning and with as little ceremony as possible. All
of Clegg’s training staff carry whips or crops for this purpose.
“Day 8: Patricia, Helen and Katherine
have all been introduced to training in domestic duties as requested. Together
with Isabel and Barbara they all now accept that they wear domestic uniforms
and carry out cooking, cleaning and other housekeeping tasks. Focus has been on
the use of repeated punishment to develop their levels of performance in the
tasks assigned. Helen has had most difficulty with laundry and wardrobe tasks.
All five girls were paraded in their uniforms this morning and now seem to be
taking orders and carrying them out without question. Work has continued to
break down their sense of individual personal identity. This has involved the
use of punishments for all for the mistakes of any individual and by adding to
their uniforms. All five have been carrying out their duties while wearing
identical blonde wigs and identical latex face masks. The use of corsets,
padding and shoes with different heel heights has enabled all five to present a
closely comparable physical appearance. Staff only refer to them as “girl”,
never by name or in any other way that might allow them to identify themselves
as individuals. This approach seems to be having the required effect. Today’s
tasks were completed without the need for additional corrective punishment.
To the outsider, the training methods used by Clegg’s operation must look like random acts of cruelty, brutality and humiliation. In fact Clegg’s team have pioneered the use of psychological techniques in the development of their slave training programmes. Unfortunately, though, the techniques are often employed by staff that don’t have a degree in clinical psychology and, what’s more, have a pretty boring life and need to find ways to amuse themselves to fill up their days. As a result, training sometimes goes further than the programmes might need and since, behind their face masks, the girls all have their mouths taped shut the trainees don’t have too much opportunity to object.
All the girls were given special fitness training to cope with the Colonels particular needs after the Doc had provided some feedback on the RSI suffered by the first shipment. Patricia and Katherine, for example, were encouraged to exercise by being chained in chairs with only the hand that they would use for masturbating the Colonel free. They had a replica penis secured to the desk in front of them. The girls had to follow a strict routine of changing techniques designed to ensure that different muscles in the wrist and hand were exercised. Failing to follow the prescribed sequence earned them additional punishment points from the ever watchful trainers. In time the two developed the ability to maintain their masturbatory activities for long periods without the risk of stress to their muscles and joints. I reported to the Colonel on their progress. He was pleased, he said, hoping that he would find their performance a great improvement.
Unsurprisingly some of Clegg’s team were only too happy to help the girls to improve both their stamina and technique and to help them become oriented to their role as sexual playthings. One of the sessions involved all five of the girls, all still wearing their identical face masks and wigs, being brought together into a room with five of Clegg’s team. Each was encouraged to draw from a deck of cards. Each was then subjected to the sexual attentions of one of Clegg’s men in a way that corresponded to the suit drawn. Drawing a heart resulted in the woman being fucked. Spades meant she would be taken in the arse. Diamonds that she’d use her mouth. Clubs that she’d use her hands. The men found the rounds of repeated assaults amusing, as much for the luck or otherwise of each other as for the misfortune of the girls.
When the youngest of Clegg’s men found himself being wanked yet again by one of the girls rather than fucking one as he had hoped, the rest of them gathered round, clapping their hands to try to encourage the young man’s penis to respond.
Of course, his embarrassment was relatively minor compared with the shame and degradation suffered by the girls but Clegg’s men were hardly renowned for their compassion in such matters. As far as they were concerned it was all part of getting the girls ready for their new lives and making sure that their own team members knew what was expected of them too.
Yesterday the truck arrived to deliver the five new girls. The Colonel had created an ingenious way of housing his new acquisitions. In the centre of a barn just behind the house he had arranged for Forbes to put up a large glass walled box. “My girl tank,” the Colonel announced when I saw it. “Thought you’d like to see my new toys installed.”
Each of the girls was wheeled in, strapped inside her transport crate. They were taken into the barn, freed from their crates and then herded, still handcuffed of course, naked and gagged, into the aquarium. Cowed by their training, they offered no resistance to their captors as they were manhandled into their new accommodation. Both of the delivery men seemed to pay particular attention to Barbara. Neither seemed ready to leave her until they had enjoyed groping her tits for a final time. The smirks that both men wore as they left the aquarium showed how much they enjoyed their work.
The girls in the tank looked around in confusion, whimpering quietly through their tape gags and with all five girls imprisoned in the glass walled cell, Clegg’s men got the Colonel’s signature on the shipping documents and left.
It was only as we were about to leave the barn, with the girls in their glass cell now struggling in dismay and distress at their new situation, that I noticed the low door in the outside wall. I asked Forbes what it was.
“That young lady,” he replied, pleased to be showing off the results of his ingenuity, “is the new security system for our guests. Just look at this.”
He took me to where the Colonel was sitting observing the girls on the far side of a wire fence that stretched across the barn between the girl’s box and the door. He unfastened a rope from its cleat and began hauling on it. As he did so the door slid up. I was puzzled, not seeing how opening a door actually improved security.
A few moments later my confusion evaporated as first one, then two, then all of the Colonel’s vicious guard dogs, slunk in under the door which obviously led from their enclosure. They paced around the barn, sniffing and peering at their new surroundings. I could see that the girls in their transparent cage were terrified by the arrival of these slavering beasts. In spite of the fact that the girls had tried to stay as still as they could the dogs realised that the central, glass-walled, cage was occupied. Used to being fed by the others, the dogs now obviously felt these newcomers should be seeing to their comfort as well. They began snarling, barking and jumping up at the glass box. The girls tried to back away from the dogs but there was barely enough room for them all in any case and the more they did so, the more the dogs simply circled around snapping and growling. One of them came across to peer at us through the wire fence and bark but then decided that the contents of the glass box were more interesting and returned to that.
Only when the girls became completely still did the dogs stop their circling and drop to sit quietly. The slightest movement from within the cell set the dogs off again, barking and jumping up at the glass.
The Colonel gave a self satisfied grin. “That seems to be a satisfactory security arrangement,” he said. “Well done, Forbes.”
“Thank you, Sir,” said the Sergeant, saluting in acknowledgement of the Colonel’s praise. “I’ll leave the dogs’ feed until the morning, Sir, if that’s all right. It’ll help them keep their minds on their job tonight.”
“Quite right, Sergeant,” said Snell. “You get on now. I’ll just sit and watch for a while. Always fascinating to watch wild life, don’t you know? When you’ve got your girls sorted out you can bring me one of the new girls to try out. I like the look of that one with the big tits for a start.”
“Yessir,” said Forbes, saluting. Leaving the Colonel to watch his girl tank, Forbes told me to round up the others for a project he’d been planning. In a few minutes all of us were lined up wearing our uniform fatigues, waiting to discover what new piece of lunacy he had in hand.
“Right,” said Forbes. “Colonel wants to try out one of the new girls. Here’s how we’ll organise things. Dobbs, Banks, Connor you’re trained as Dog Handlers. Dobbs and Connor, you make sure the dogs are on their leashes. Banks, take a leash and muzzle and bring out the girl from the aquarium. Barbara, it is he wants. The one with big tits. Not natural if you ask me but the Colonel didn’t and I suspect he doesn’t care. Bring her out on all fours, that way the dogs won’t mind so much. Dobbs and Connor make sure the dogs are under control. Banks keep the new bitch away from them. Anderson, Tsai Linn, when she’s been brought out, you two can take her up to the Colonel. Understand? Any questions?”
“No, sergeant,” we all chorused.
It was hard to tell who was more scared. Mylene Dobbs and Angie Connor were standing in the compound desperately trying to hang on to their snarling, slavering charges while Lucy Banks walked across between them towards the glass cell, not daring to take her eyes off of the dogs in case they should break free of their leashes or just pull their handlers over. Once inside the cell, she fitted Barbara with her own collar, leash, head straps and muzzle. Once Barbara realised that Lucy intended to take her out of the cell and across the compound she began struggling and it was only Forbes’s bellowed order to give her a slap from the leash end that subdued her sufficiently to allow her to understand what was required of her. Lucy led her back across the compound on all fours; Barbara staring around in terror at the vicious looking animals. The dogs, puzzled by this new animal in their midst, watched as she crossed the room, giving only an occasional sniff, snarl or bark before she reached the door and Lucy escorted her away from them.
Forbes, Tsai Linn and I were waiting when Lucy brought the crawling Barbara out. She looked up at us, whimpering through her muzzle. Forbes took her leash and whacked the strap across her buttocks to silence her. He handed the leash to me. “Take her up to the Colonel,” Forbes ordered. “Private Linn, you are responsible for ensuring our newcomer is made ready and secure for the Colonel.
When we paraded into the Colonel’s room with Barbara muzzled and on all-fours, the Colonel pronounced himself delighted. “Ha,” he said, “that’s the way to treat a bitch. Good idea. Whose was that?”
“Sergeant Forbes, sir,” said Tsai Linn.
“Thought so,” the Colonel said. “Just his style. Like the idea though. Got enough troops around the place with you girls. What I need are some pets. This will make a good start.” He reached over from his bed and patted Barbara on the head. She swung her head up in response and tried to object but the gag in her mouth turned her objections to a growl. “Well, they’ll all need some training, I suppose. Still, this one will do to keep me company tonight.”
“The Sergeant said we should make sure she was secure, Sir,” Tsai Linn volunteered.
“Quite, quite,” said the Colonel. “Well get on with it. “You’ll find restraints in that kit locker.” He waved to the cabinet beside his bed.
Tsai Linn looked bashful, but didn’t move. I realised what the problem was. “It’s just we weren’t sure what to do about her hands, Sir. Her being new and us wondering how we should leave her as no doubt you’d want to, err, make use of her. Tonight.”
“Quite right Cadet Anderson. Good thinking. I’ll tell Clegg you’re up for a commission if you carry on thinking like that. Let’s see.” The Colonel appeared lost in thought for a few moments but a stirring under the blankets from around his groin showed that his thinking was having a result. “Right,” he said suddenly. “Here’s the drill. Cuff her hands behind her. Cuff her ankles. Lock her collar to the chain that’s linked to my bed. She can sleep on the bed. She’ll be quite safe with her muzzle on.”
“Yes sir,” said Tsai Linn, relieved not to have had to come up with the ideas herself. For all her slight build she was very strong and easily wrestled Barbara’s wrists behind her back while I found the handcuffs and ankle shackles in the kit locker. Barbara was growling into her muzzle as we put the restraints on her.
“One more thing, Private Linn,” the Colonel went on. “You’re an eastern type after all.” Tsai Linn looked at him impassively. “You know this Chinese bondage style?”
“Shibari?”
“That’ll be it. Too intricate for me to bother with most of the time. Looks quite decorative, I suppose. Just takes too long.”
“It’s a very ancient way of doing things, Colonel. A Japanese art,” Tsai Linn replied.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure. Chinese, Japanese, all east of Suez as far as I’m concerned.” The colonel was becoming impatient. “Still I’ve a use for it now. Tie her tits up so there’s somewhere between them for me to sink my cock. Big ones like those you should be able to make a nice tight groove. Certainly not going to use any of her other parts and I prefer to have my women facing me.”
Tsai Linn looked at me. I nodded to the locker where I’d seen some thin rope. Tsai Linn went to work under the Colonels watchful eye. Barbara struggled as Tsai Linn wound rope around the base of each breast and then stretched it around Barbara’s chest making a harness. As she skilfully tightened and knotted off the different parts of the harness, Barbara’s tits were forced together. Two tit clamps from the locker with a short length of cord between them added to Barbara’s agony but created the ‘tight groove’ the Colonel was looking for.
The Colonel nodded his approval and pushed back the sheets. Inspired by the site of the bound girl his cock was already erect. “Get my little pet up here,” he ordered, “and put her where I can use her tits. Good work Private Linn. That will be fine.”
She struggled as the two of us wrestled her up onto the bed, lying so that the Colonel’s cock was buried between her breasts. A beatific smile spread across the Colonel’s face. Barbara tried to struggle free but the Colonel gripped her by the scruff of the neck and stopped her wriggling. “Very good girls,” he said. “You can dismiss now. Back to your dormitory. This will keep me amused for the night.”
Angie and I were the unlucky ones that had to collect Barbara from the Colonel’s room the following morning. Crouching on the floor, still gagged and chained by her collar to the bed, she looked up in terror as we came in, terrified in case still further humiliations were to be heaped on her. The Colonel had evidently had an enjoyable time. Barbara’s tits looked bruised and sore from where he had been abusing her, the ropes around them coated in the crusty remnants of his dried cum. She looked relieved as we unfastened her from the bed and helped her to her feet with the aim of taking her down to the shower block to help her clean up. We’d only just got outside the door when we heard Forbes bellowing from the other end of the corridor. “All fours! That one goes on all fours or you’ll be joining her in that glass tank.”
“Yes Sergeant,” Angie confirmed. Luckily Barbara offered no resistance. We walked her back to the showers.
While we were helping Barbara to clean up and freeing her tits from the cocoon of rope that Linn had devised, the others of the Colonel’s new intake were being put to work. Although they’d all been trained in domestic tasks as part of their induction at Clegg’s, Forbes knew better than to let them lose on the place without supervision. Mylene was assigned to the housekeeping squad with the instructions that if they didn’t perform she’d be beaten every time they were. That together with her own natural bitchiness was sufficient to ensure that Isabelle, Patricia, Katherine and Helen kept their minds on their tasks. The rest of the girls were pleased to be relieved of the mindless cleaning, cooking and laundry tasks that Forbes seemed to devise simply for the purpose of keeping them busy although of course the continuous job of keeping the Colonel amused still fell to them.
One task that Forbes added to the regular duties of those assigned to the Dog Section was that of training Barbara or Babs as she was to be known – as a sort of regimental mascot for the squad. Forbes took great delight in explaining his plans. “The Colonel is obviously taken with the idea of having this new girl as his pet but I can’t stand the idea of pampered animals around the place. Working dogs – or in this case bitches – that’s another matter. Squad needs a mascot. Might as well be this one.”
Angie, Lucy and Mylene, who were on dog section duties looked dubious. Barbara who was crouched on hands and knees beside Mylene as she held her lead looked worried.
“You three,” Forbes called to them. “You three will take turns at working the guard dogs and training the regimental mascot. She’ll need to be properly groomed of course. Better get one of the others to trick up some sort of ceremonial blanket she can wear over her back. Needs that muzzle polished and a better collar. See what you can find in the equipment cupboard. Oh, and while your at it, give her a tail too.”
The last suggestion caused Barbara to look up in concern. Forbes scowled in response and Mylene jerked at Barbara’s leash to bring her to heel. It was obvious that the three girls assigned to her training were not going to let any fellow feeling for the newcomer cause them to earn any punishments from Forbes.
“Right,” said Forbes, “Carry on. I’ll be back in an hour to see how you’ve got on.”
I was busy on the last bits of paperwork for the new girls up in the Colonel’s office but I had a view down into the barn where Angie, Mylene and Lucy were working on Babs. The other girls were out of their tank, around the house at their domestic duties. The real dogs were all chained up but even so the activities in the barn were attracting their attention and causing a great deal of barking and snarling at the comings and goings as Babs began her training.
Angie went out and came back a bit later clutching a new collar. As she fitted it to Babs’s neck I could see it was one of the broad leather posture collars that were used as part of Forbes’s discipline regime. Angie buckled it around Barbara’s neck and I could see that it made her hold her head back so that as she crouched on her hands and knees she was facing forward rather than looking at the ground.
While Babs was fretting at the collar, trying unsuccessfully to toss her head in protest, she didn’t see Lucy with the fruits of her labours. I wasn’t sure where she had got it from but she had managed to fix a few lengths of string to the base of a butt plug. As she pushed it home into Barbara’s arse it was clear that it gave the girl a convincing tail. Barbara bucked and squealed in response. Mylene thrashed at her buttocks with the leash end to calm her down and then she and Lucy paraded Babs up and down to get her used to her new trappings.
Tsai Linn appeared to take the others out of the tank so that they could start on their domestic duties. All four were led out, chained by the neck one to another, still naked and gagged and followed Tsai Linn across the barn and into the house.
Angie was obviously getting into the idea of training their new charge as she reappeared carrying a dog bowl, a reel of tape and Barbara’s muzzle. She fitted the muzzle in place and I could see that she had added a pair of flaps of leather to the top in simulation of ears. She used the tape on Barbara’s hands, binding them into useless fists, effectively turning her hands into paws. It was obvious that with the muzzle in place, Barbara couldn’t use the dog bowl but that didn’t prevent Mylene pacing her around the barn, bringing her to a halt beside her bowl and teaching her to walk to heel, coping with her newly taped paws and the discomfort of her tail.
I was still working on the Colonel’s paperwork when Tsai Linn appeared with Helen and Katherine under her supervision. Now the two new slaves were dressed in short, khaki, dresses. Although they were still both ball gagged and shackled at the ankles, they were no longer chained by their wrists. “Colonel says these two are to clean up in here,” said Tsai Linn. “Can you watch them while I take others down to clean out shower block?”
“Sure,” I said. I was happy to help Tsai Linn out. She’d been a good friend to me since I’d come to the Colonel’s.
“Thank you,” said Tsai Linn dragging her two charges into the room. “You, sweep and polish floor,” Tsai Linn ordered Helen and then turned to Katherine. “You, dust and clean furniture and windows.” The two new slaves grunted their agreement through their gags and Tsai Linn left, giving me a wave as she headed off to find the other two.
Helen and Katherine set to their tasks. I carried on with mine.
Looking back out to the barn I saw that Lucy, meanwhile, had found an old blanket in one of the hay boxes at the back of the barn. She had draped it across Barbara’s back. I guessed that she would be finding something better but she seemed satisfied that it would do to start with. I could imagine that it wasn’t going to be the end of the ingenuity applied by Forbes and the rest of the ‘troops’ to the humiliation of Barbara and the rest of the newcomers.
With Snell’s new acquisitions fully installed, even he couldn’t think of a reason for keeping me around any longer. Besides, he was pretty preoccupied with playing with the girls’ pioneering project and enjoying his “aquarium”.
Forbes turned up in the dormitory just as I was packing some laundry back into my locker to tell me that I was being shipped back to Clegg the next day.
“I shall miss having you around, Anderson,” he said.
I didn’t feel able to return his sentiment but said, “Thank you, Sergeant.”
“Yes,” he went on, “you have obviously benefited from Clegg’s programmes in ways that the other girls have not. It’s a shame they haven’t had the same opportunities to experience the programmes that you have.” The sexualisation conditioning that I had been through was still experimental, I explained. Only a few of us had been through it so far and the results were still not fully predictable.
“They seem to be in your case,” Forbes said, reaching out with one hand and sliding it slowly across my belly as I stood to attention beside the bed.
His overtly sexual touching had immediate effect as my sexualisation programming kicked in. My back stiffened. I pushed my chest forward. I could feel my nipples hardening as I became more aroused and I could see Forbes’s appreciative look as he took in the shape of my breasts under my tight white tee-shirt. “Yes, Sergeant,” I confirmed, although I hadn’t needed to.
Forbes smiled, showing no sign that he expected me to do anything other than to stand at attention. He cupped one of my breasts in his hand, squeezing and pinching at the nipple through the white fabric. I grunted a pleasurable response, licking my lips, and then parting them to give out a quiet, “Oh!” as he transferred his attentions to the other nipple.
“We need to sort things out for your return, I am afraid,” Forbes announced, evidently reluctant to stop fondling my breasts and showing no sign of stopping. “Clegg’s people will be here in an hour and the Colonel promised them you would be ready for them.”
“I’ve packed all my kit in the locker, Sergeant,” I replied. “I’m – ahh - quite ready.”
“Not quite, I think,” said Forbes, continuing with his groping. “I’m sure Clegg’s people will want you to be appropriately secured, won’t they?”
I suppose that I hadn’t really thought about that. Since my arrival at the Colonel’s I’d been able to wander around quite freely because the house was secure. As soon as Forbes said it, I knew that I would have to be bound or chained before I could be returned. “Yes, Sergeant,” I said quietly acknowledging the situation.
“Good,” said Forbes, with a worryingly cheerful grin. “I thought you’d agree.” He turned to the door and called. “Security party! At the double!” Tsai Linn, Lucy and Mylene came jogging in; Tsai Linn in the lead with the other two carrying bundles of ropes. The three of them came to attention immediately alongside me. “Make ready!” barked Forbes. Lucy and Mylene laid out the ropes in neat coils on the floor.
Tsai Linn came over to me and said, “We have to tie you, Miss Sarah.”
I nodded in acquiescence. “That’s all right,” I said. “What should I do?”
“Please turn around,” Tsai Linn said quietly. “And please put your hands behind your back.” As I did so I felt her take my wrists in a gentle but firm grip, placing them one beside each other with the palms of my hands together. There was something deeply sexual about the combination of gentleness and strictness in the way that she began to wind the ropes around my wrists, slowly tightening and pulling at my wrists. Tsai Linn continued, winding ropes around my elbows to ease them closer together, gently but inexorably. The constant touching and tightening of the ropes became more and more arousing. My sexualisation responses, already primed by the fondling from Forbes, were triggered again by Tsai Linn’s attentions. It was the first time that I had been bound in such an erotic manner. Although Clegg’s people had often used ropes or straps or chains on me, they had always been imposed in a perfunctory manner, purely for the purpose of immobilising me, Tsai Linn seemed to derive delight from the pleasure I took as she tightened the ropes. And Forbes, looking on, looked pleased as well.
In the mean time the rest of the girls had assembled, summoned by Forbes as a final parade. Angie led the way with a reluctant Barbara on all fours, muzzled and masked, with her tail in place and the regimental mascot’s blanket across her back. The others marched in behind and the whole party came to attention in a line behind Forbes.
Tsai Linn turned to Mylene asking her to pass across another length of rope. This she took and wound it around my chest, threading it between my breasts and around my arms, cinching it off at each side to fix my arms rigidly. More rope followed, stretching across my chest, crushing my breasts. As Tsai Linn tightened this, the pressure on my tits became increasingly pleasurable. I began to moan quietly, much to Forbes’s amusement. Tsai Linn carried on, carefully but insistently adding ropes, knotting them so as to immobilise me but in such a way as to create an elaborate pattern of ropes and knot work across my body. Each tightening pull invited increased arousal.
Lucy passed more rope to Tsai Linn. She looped it around my waist and then around my wrists locking them to the small of my back. From my wrists she ran the rope down between my legs and up again to the waist in front. As she tightened it I realised that she had added knots in the rope that stretched across my crotch so that as I struggled I could not avoid dragging the knots across my clit, adding to the increasing crescendo of sexual pleasure that Tsai Linn’s activities were stimulating.
As I panted and squealed, Forbes grinned. Lucy and Mylene looked on in amusement while Tsai Linn allowed herself a look of quiet satisfaction that her work was having the effect it was designed to.
The colonel arrived, propelling himself into the room in his wheel chair. The three girls stiffened to attention immediately. “Very neat!” he exclaimed. “Nice to see you girls taking a pride in your work. Still don’t mind me. Carry on.” He turned to look approvingly at the other girls lined up as smartly as they were and wheeled himself over so that he could pat Barbara, the mascot, on the head. She growled in response though whether it was from anger or a wish to get into the spirit of the role was hard to say.
“Carry on,” ordered Forbes and Tsai Linn, Mylene and Lucy picked up the ropes again.
With my arms, wrists and body tied, Tsai Linn bound my ankles and thighs. The three girls helped me to the floor before tying my ankles back to my wrists. Now if I tried to ease the pressure on my wrists or elbows the rope tugged across my crotch. If I tried to save myself form the crotch rope the resulting wriggles tugged at the ropes that cut across my breast and nipples. There was no way in which I could avoid progressively increasing the sexual stimulation that I was giving myself and my sexualisation programming ensured that my responses were more extreme than anything I would normally have experienced.
As I wriggled on the floor, I knew I was moving inexorably towards orgasm. Forbes looked on dispassionately. “I think she’ll need a gag too,” he said to Tsai Linn as my moaning increased in volume.
“Very good, Sergeant,” Tsai Linn responded, collecting another length of rope. I watched as she doubled the rope and tied a large knot in the centre of it. She knelt beside me and stroked my head. “For your mouth,” she said, quietly, offering the knot to me.
“Mmm, please, yes,” I said, licking my lips, eager to take the knot between them, keen to add another sensation of restraint to my body. My pleas were succeeded by grunts as the knot was eased into place and the doubled rope fastened first at the back of my head and then so that my head was stretched back towards my elbows. I was rolling around in sensual delight, coming closer to orgasm, almost oblivious to Forbes and the girls as they stood watching the effect of Tsai Linn’s elaborate bondage. It was as the first orgasm swept over me that I was vaguely aware that we had been joined by others.
“Mr Clegg said you’ve got a package for us,” it was the voice of the driver that had brought me to the Colonel’s in the first place. “And it looks like you’ve done a good job with seeing that it’s properly wrapped.”
As the crotch rope sawed backwards and forwards with my struggles the knots that Tsai Linn had added caught at my clit. I whimpered into the knots of my gag as my body bucked and the shudders of orgasm swept across me.
“Seems like she’s been having a good time,” I heard another voice say. “She’s well warmed up.”
“My man Forbes has taken great care to see she’s been looked after. You can tell Mr Clegg she’s done a good job,” it was the Colonel’s voice this time but I wasn’t paying too much attention – as the twitching at my crotch slowed, I became increasingly aware of the way the ropes were fretting at my tits and the sensations of tightness and restraint as my body bucked in response to orgasm. I gasped as the waves of spasm began to recede, conscious that I was drooling from my gag, making a growing pool of spittle on the floor.
“We’ve got a crate for her if that’s OK,” said the driver.
“Of course,” said Forbes. “Bring it through.”
I lost track of what was happening as the pressure of the crotch rope snagged insistently, setting me off once more towards orgasm. I barely registered as the crate was brought in, as they lifted me from the floor and lowered me into it, so distracting were the waves of pleasure that Tsai Linn’s bondage (and my sexualisation programming) had managed to stimulate.
It was as the spasms of my second orgasm ebbed away that I became aware of the Colonel’s voice again. “… and don’t think that any of you will be getting her sort of programming either,” he said, “although I might get Miss Linn to exhibit her skills on you two or some of the others for some amusement one evening. Make a note Forbes!”
“Sir!” I heard his sergeant respond.
I realised that all three of the girls were staring down into the crate watching as I struggled and wriggled in my rope cocoon. Mylene’s and Lucy’s looks were a mixture of envy, embarrassment and concern at being the subject of Tsai Linn’s future attentions. Tsai Linn smiled, happy that her skills had given rise to such pleasure.
The driver and his colleague fitted the lid of the case I was in and my journey back to the relatively normal world of the Clegg Enterprise’s offices began. It was only with the jolting that came as the case was lifted that I realised I would have to suffer the effects of the bouncing and vibration of the ride to add to the effects of my bondage during the drive home. I could feel the crotch rope starting its pernicious work again. I just hoped that Harry wasn’t expecting me to do anything useful when I got back to the office.
THE END
© 2007 Freddie Clegg
All characters fictitious.
Sarah and Basher feature in
Freddie’s story “Market Forces” available here.
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