Enslaved on an Alien World Ch 02
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Julia and Melissa, both naked, knelt side by side in the submissive slave posture which had become second nature to them.
Each girl had her back ramrod straight, her hands clasped on top of her head, her thighs parted. Two pairs of lustrous eyes flickered nervously from side to side - Julia’s a deep blue-green, Melissa’s dark brown - as they began to take in their new surroundings. As if they had just woken from an ordinary sleep, those eyes filled with dawning dread as they gazed upon the familiar figure of their owner, Quentin Osman.
“Welcome to Cragness,” smiled Quentin. He was a fat, oily man of middle age, with close-cropped hair and typically rugged American features. “I won’t ask you if you had a pleasant journey here, for I am aware you knew nothing about it.
Alongside Quentin stood his new aide, Havers. He was a bulletheaded man with coarse, criminal features. Always inclined to perspire, his balding head was positively glistening with sweat as he gazed lasciviously at the two lovely young women who, having been removed from the packing case, had been brought
miraculously to life by means of an injection. It was rather like having unpacked two walking-talking dolls, thought Havers, and then put them into motion. He also thought a lot of other things as he looked at the lush female charms so uninhibitedly displayed.
Havers mind, in fact, positively raced. It was almost impossible to grasp that these girls were actually slaves. Who could be ordered about, punished, made to do what you wanted. At least, Quentin could do all that. Havers ran his tongue over his pale lips - a nervous habit - and ran his sweaty palms down the side of his trousers. Well, the boss had promised him some ‘perks’, hadn’t he? Now he was wondering, already, how long he would have to wait. And which one would he have first? Either would do admirably! My God . . . yes . . . they certainly would! Havers gazed at the gently quivering breasts (a little nervous trembling, no doubt!) and saw the smooth, depilated Mounts of Venus with their proffered sex lips.
“I think the first thing for you to do is take a shower and pretty up,” said Quentin, rubbing his hands. “You’ll find a couple through there.”
He pointed to one of the four doors which led off the room - an ordinary-looking, comfortably furnished drawing room. “So, run along, girls! And incidentally, I’ll think you’ll find your new quarters a considerable improvement to those on board the ‘Paradise’.”
Julia and Melissa rose immediately and followed each other from the room. Havers’ eyes fastened on the bouncing flesh of two seductively swinging bottoms, saw the flash of long white thighs in motion. Then the two had disappeared through the door.
“What do you think of ’em, Havers?” enquired Quentin with a grin.
His aide seemed to have some difficulty in answering at first. He nodded his head enthusiastically. “G-Great . . .” he said hoarsely. “Real classy dames, Quentin. You certainly can pick them, Quentin.”
Yes, thought Havers, ‘classy’ was the word for those two. The sort of women who had always previously been out of his reach.
Society women, moneyed, confidently arrogant. He could never afford such women. They looked at him as he were dirt . . . and he had had to be content with scrubbers and low-class tarts. The sort of women who didn’t mind when a man was not only a criminal but looked like one.
“I guess that’s true,” said Quentin smugly. “And now, Havers, I’ll just repeat what I’ve said several times before. Repeat it for the last time. Get out of line - just once - and you’re finished . . .” Havers was nodding his head with vigorous understanding. “. . . there’ll be no second chances. But play it right and you can
have a good time . . .” More vigorous nodding from Havers! “. . . while I and my wife are here, you have to ask permission to have either of them. Permission may or may not be granted. Nor will you administer any punishment without a direct order. Apart from the odd slap or two, or course . . .”
Havers licked his lips. Those two bottoms were made for slapping!
“When I am not in residence,” continued Quentin, “You and Rosalie will have free run of either of the women. You will find them most co-operative, I’m sure, but you will let me know if they are not. As to any punishments in my absence, they will be administered at your discretion but will be restricted. No more than twenty-four strokes of paddle or strap in a twenty-four hour period, or twelve with the cane. Got it?”
“Sure, boss!” Havers felt almost sick with excitement. It was incredible that he was going to be permitted to thrash such lovely creatures and . . . and . . . then . . . have them do whatever he wanted!
Havers heard the pounding of the blood in his head. My God, life was going to be a real bowl of cherries!
“The same rules apply to Rosalie, of course,” said Quentin. “She knows that, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, Boss . . . I’ve made sure of that.” Havers was fawning, almost cringing, in his tone. He would have gone to any lengths for a man who was offering him so much. Quentin, needless to say, was aware of that. Havers was a most useful tool - rather than an ally and would enable Quentin and Glenda to come and go from Cragness as and when they wished. The freedom of Julia and Melissa might be restricted, but there was no reason why that of their owners should be!
“Well, that’s it then,” said Quentin’ “Any questions?”
“Will they . . . be staying down here all the time?” asked Havers. He was referring to the spacious cellar quarters of Cragness which had been specially converted to accommodate Julia and Melissa.
“Yes. To begin with, anyway,” replied Quentin. “Later we may have them upstairs from time to time. For kitchen duties. Or to act as maids. Or maybe for other things. It will help Rosalie and you out. And there’s no risk of them getting away. Even if they dare try.”
“Don’t you think they’ll even try then?”
Quentin shook his head. “No,” he said flatly. He seemed very sure and Havers wondered why. “By the way, Havers,” added Quentin, “I must congratulate you on doing a first class job down here. Everything seems to be to my specification. It only remains to install the equipment that Madame Vesta let me bring with me. The
contents of the other packing case.”
“Some of the things in that are rather special, aren’t they?”
“You’re right. Very special. The healing lamps and ointments particularly. Puts them back in trim - and fit for more - in no time. Couldn’t really. do without such aids. Without them, one good hiding would put them out of action for a good week or more. As it is, they can be thrashed every day, if need be.”
“It’s amazing,” murmured Havers. “I shan’t believe it until I see it.” It must, he reflected, have been exceedingly unpleasant for those young ladies to heal so quickly . . . so that they were ready to suffer all over again!
At that moment, the door opened and Julia and Melissa came back into - the room. With softly bouncing breasts they resumed their former posture . . . and Havers notice immediately an improvement in their appearance. Their hair had been brushed and combed . . . make-up had removed the ravages of travel . . . smooth female flesh was powdered and exotically scented. Quentin strolled across and, almost casually it seemed, fondled one of Julia’s breasts.
“Better than aboard the Paradise, eh Julia?” he enquired.
“Y-Yes, Master,” answered the girl at once.
“You agree, Melissa?” asked Quentin, going over and also fondling her naked breasts. Havers noted that neither girl recoiled in the slightest; indeed they seemed to thrust out their breasts even more provocatively to receive their owner’s touch.
“Yes, Master,” replied Melissa equally promptly.
Quentin nodded. “Well let me tell you both something at the outset. If either of you ever Makes the slightest attempt to escape from here . . . even an attempt, you understand . . . both of you will be sent back to the Paradise for an indefinite period. And, believe me, I shall have some very special instructions for Madame Vesta!”
The look of terror which crossed over those lovely features shocked Havers. What Quentin had threatened was obviously quite unbearable to think about. He saw now why the man was so convinced that neither girl would so much as try and get away from Cragness. That ‘Paradise’ must have been something else, thought Havers. Otherwise, could such women be made so slavishly submissive? And in such mortal dread of ever returning?
“Have I made myself quite clear?” asked Quentin.
“Yes, Master,” they answered in unison.
“Here are one or two other things I must point out to you,” went on Quentin in a suavely confident way. He was indeed very much the ‘Master’ now that he was in his own domain. “Your living quarters and general conditions are far more comfortable than those on the ‘Paradise.’ You will actually sleep on beds - even if without covering rather than on planks. Nor will there be any collar and chain to keep you there. Indeed, You may sleep on the same bed if you prefer it that way. Also, you are free to roam where you will within these quarters.” Quentin paused and smiled.
“You see what a kind owner, I am?” he asked . . . but did not stay for a reply. “There is one point though. A closed-circuit television system has been installed. Look around the various rooms and you will find a great number of miniature cameras in position. Also, there are microphones everywhere. As a result, every sound and movement you make can be seen on the TV screens in the house above. Your Mistress . . . or I . . . can look in upon you whenever we so desire. Either in reality or by simply turning a knob. In a way, I suppose, it will rather be like being goldfish in a bowl.”
The expressions on the two faces remained blank. Both Julia and Melissa had become expert at controlling their features whatever kind of news they were receiving.
“Now I’ll show you round . . .” Quentin signed to them . . . and Julia and Melissa rose to their feet. They followed meekly after their Master, whilst Havers brought up the rear. His eyes were glued to Melissa’s lush bottom. He was simply aching to get his hands on that succulent flesh!
“This is your bedroom,” announced Quentin, like any courteous host showing guests round. The room, decorated in pink and white, was simply but comfortably furnished with two silk-sheeted beds, dressing tables, chairs, stools and the like. There seemed everything a woman could want to beautify herself. There were even wardrobes. Quentin opened one. It was filled with clothes . . . at which the two girls gazed in wonder. It was literally months since either had had the slightest vestige of covering on her body!
“Not to be worn unless you are given direct orders,” said Quentin with a smile. “Understood?” He closed the door.
“Yes, Master,” came the meek answer in unison.
What must it feel like, wondered Havers, to be a woman who could not clothe herself unless so ordered to do.
Quentin walked across the room and opened another door.
“This is what I have called the Playroom,” he said. “You can, perhaps, guess the sort of thing it will be used for.”
The two girls looked . . . and guessed correctly!
There was a large, circular bed in the centre. Strewn about were colourful bolsters and piles of cushions. Also, two water beds. Apart from these, there were easy chairs, stools and tables. Not to mention a huge cocktail cabinet. The walls were d****d with heavy curtains and Quentin pulled a cord on one wall and the curtain slid back to reveal a full-length mirror. The ceiling, too, was one whole mirror.
“It’s fun to see yourself . . . as others see you,” said Quentin pontifically. “At least, I think so . . .”
The little party moved on. It is in this room that I shall enjoy these two beauties, thought Havers hotly. It still seemed scarcely possible that it could be true. He felt rather like a c***d who had been given a bag of sweets and was happy - but equally terrified that someone would take them away from him. The door led them back into the living room and Quentin walked across to the door on the far side.
“I don’t think you will enjoy looking at this room quite so much,” he said with a smirk. “It has been designed for naughty young ladies . . .”
Havers saw, and sensed, the tension in the two naked figures directly ahead of him. Not surprising, in view of what they could see!
In the centre of the room were two leather-covered blocks. Curving blocks. Punishment blocks! At the head of each was a pillory device in which a victim’s neck and wrists could be placed.
One was labelled ‘Julia’, the other ‘Melissa’.
Quentin made a little gesture, spreading his hands.
“Do try them out,” he said. He made it sound like a suggestion, but both girls were aware that it was an order. At once, both moved forward, each to her named block, knelt at its end, placing her belly on the curving hump, and neck and wrists into the wooden half circles which awaited them. And now Quentin picked up two small boxes which looked rather like pocket-computers.
“I always thought Madam Vesta’s devices, though effective, were rather crude,” he said. “Here we have modernised them. Thanks to my ingenuity . . . and the skill of my aide here.” Quentin smiled at Havers, then pressed one of numerous buttons on the control boxes.
The upper parts of each pillory came sliding down, effectively pinioning the neck and wrists of both girls.
“You can take a look at yourselves,” said Quentin, pressing another button.
Curtains over the wall in front of the blocks drew back. Two faces, two pairs of despairing eyes, gazed out. The humiliation upon humiliation was building up again. Though they had left the ‘Paradise,’ though their surroundings were quite different, nothing had really changed.
Both were suddenly and hideously aware of it.
“From their rear, too,” smiled Quentin, pressing more buttons. Curtains at the opposite end of the room drew back to reveal another mirror. This, cleverly angled, gave the girls a back view of themselves reflected in the front mirror.
Havers’ heart was thumping; he felt rather dizzy. Could this all be really happening? This was where those girls were actually going to get punished. Strapped! Caned! On those lovely, curving buttock cheeks! Incredible!
Havers could not take his eyes of the soft, white flesh so invitingly presented.
“Additional bonds are available,” he heard Quentin saying.
More buttons were pushed and, instantly, a number of broad bands of thin, flexible steel came out of the sides of the blocks. One went over the waist of each girl, pinioning her down tight. Then two more went round the lower part of each thigh . . . pulling the knees about two feet apart as it did so . . . and clamping them securely to the end of the block.
Both girls were even more immodestly displayed.
“And,” said Quentin, “if we wish, we can tighten up . . .”
Flick . . . flick . . . went the buttons.
The hump at the end of each block rose slightly and the knees of each girl were pulled forward . . . thus tautening the flesh over the nates and pulling wide the cleft between those nates.
Havers mouth was slack; he was almost dribbling and he was showing the whites of his eyes.
“A most suitable posture for punishment,” said Quentin, giving his aide a wink. “Or for . . . well whatever you fancy, really!”
Havers gulped. He was getting hotter and hotter and his whole body felt wet with sweat. Would he ever get used to such things? Like Quentin seemed to be? The man was taking it all so calmly. As if it was the most natural thing in the world to treat two lovely young woman in such a degradingly indecent way.
Quentin began pressing buttons in reverse order and gradually the bonds fell away. The pillory was the last to be raised and then the curtains were closed again.
“Up you get, girls,” ordered Quentin almost jovially.
Obediently, together, they rose from off the black leather surfaces a look of relief in their eyes. Both were aware that, if he had been in the mood, there was no reason on earth why Quentin could not have thrashed them then and there!
Back once more in the central drawing room, Julia and Melissa knelt submissively. Both girls were still a little bemused after a long spell under sedation but were gradually beginning to take in their new situation. At least they were off the dreaded ‘Paradise’. That was something. Even if they were owned by, and were at the mercy of, a brutish pig of a man.
No More Madame Vesta . . .
No more Miss Judith . . .
No more Ahmed; no more Jason . . .
Their relief at escaping those monsters was intense. Yet, of course, Quentin remained. As did his wife Glenda. As yet a virtually unknown quantity. Surely she could not match Madame Vesta for cruelty!
No . . . no . . .
Then there was the aide of Quentin. Another pig by the look of him. Sweating and balding. Lusting. It made them sick to think of what they were going to have to do to please him.
Yet . . . yet . . . they were off the ‘Paradise’!
“Havers, have you got that parcel? The one Miss Judith gave me just before I left?”
“Yes, Boss.”
It said ‘not to be opened on voyage’. Well the voyage is over now.
“Let’s have it.”
Havers came forward with a square parcel wrapped up in brown paper and Quentin looked at the two kneeling figures.
“It’s a present to you both, from Miss Judith,” he said. “Isn’t that kind of her?”
A muscle in Julia’s cheek twitched. As both girls knew, there was not a single atom of kindness in that blonde virago’s whole being! They watched impassively, yet apprehensively, as Quentin unwrapped the parcel. Like Pandora’s Box, only evil could come out of it.
Slowly, carefully, Quentin took off the cardboard lid and looked inside. His podgy face creased instantly into a smile, then guffaws of laughter burst from him:
“Well . . . well oh yes . . . that really is kind of Miss Judith! Oohh . . . aaahhh . . . yes. So thoughtful! Look what she’s given you!”
Julia and Melissa looked.
And looked in hopeless silence.
In Quentin’s hands were two large black dildoes. Exact replicas of the two negro penises which had repeatedly ravished them aboard the ‘Paradise’. To emphasise that point, one carried a small tab with the name ‘Jason’ on it, the other tab being that of ‘Ahmed’!
“Here . . . catch!” Quentin tossed the two formidable looking rubber devices across to the girls. Each caught one and held it before her. “Miss Judith has sent a little note with them. I’ll read it.”
Quentin first glanced through the letter, then began to read it aloud:
I am sure both Julia and Melissa will have many happy memories of Ahmed and Jason. What girl who loves the feel of a big, black cock up her wouldn’t? And I know both the girls love that feeling! I have seen them wriggling away too often, while they were being solidly fucked, not to know that.
So, in order that neither of the girls feels deprived, I have had these replicas made. They are exact, by the way. If you measure carefully, you will discover that ‘Jason’ is about half an inch longer, while ‘Ahmed’ is a fraction thicker in the girth. Just as they really are.
I don’t know who preferred who but now both girls can enjoy both.
Whenever you give them permission, of course.
I am enclosing some attachments which you may find useful. There are harnesses for attaching these dildoes to someone’s body. Alternatively, they can be set in a frame which, in turn, can be fastened to the front part of a chair. This latter method is best when the girls want to play games on
their own.
Well then, Quentin, give both my very best wishes . . . and here’s hoping they have many happy hours in the months ahead, with ‘Jason’ and ‘Ahmed’. By the way, tell them they need not bother to write and thank me!
Sincerely,
JUDITH.’
Quentin looked up, his face wreathed in smiles.
“There, girls, isn’t that a nice gesture?” he said winsomely. “Trust Miss Judith not to forget you!”
Sick despair was written on both the faces before him. He could see that Julia’s was near to tears. The obscene cruelty of Judith’s action was biting deep into the souls of both of them.
Here were reminders of some of the most horrifying moments in their lives. Moments of pain, shame and utter degradation.
Permanent reminders!
“Well then,” said Quentin, “let’s see if we can fix them up. Ready for use . . .”
He wandered around the room and then chose two low-seated chairs. They were Edwardian in character, with gilt oval framework for back and seat, both the back and the seat being thickly padded with purple velvet.
“Let’s have those things, please Havers.”
Havers took the two black objects. By God, he thought, what a size! Those darkies really had been well made! Quite frightening for any young woman. Let alone a well-bred society woman. He was beginning to get some little idea of what Julia and Melissa must have gone through in their time. He watched with interest as Quentin fastened the dildoes into two slim, slat-like frameworks and, in turn, strapped these over the front of the chair seats.
The two mock penises thrust rigidly erect, black and menacing, the phallic heads a pinkish-purple colour.
“There,” said Quentin, standing back admiringly, “that’s fine.” “Come along, girls, up you get and renew acquaintanceships with your two coloured gentlemen friends. Not quite as good as the real thing . . . but not at all bad, I’d say.”
Julia and Melissa stood up. The tension in them had become very evident. Julia was biting her lips furiously, Melissa was cutting her nails into her palms. Their bitterness towards Miss Judith knew no bounds as they gazed upon the obscene objects awaiting them . . . What a vile, vile creature she was!
“Who would you like, Julia? Ahmed or Jason? But then, I don’t suppose you mind, really.”
As it happened, Julia came to stand before the chair on which Ahmed’s dildoe had been placed.
“A-Ahmed, M-Master,” she managed to whisper.
“That leaves Jason for you, Melissa,” smiled Quentin. “He’s just that little bit longer. I expect you’ll like that.”
Havers wiped the sweat from his brow. It was amazing that women could be made to do such a thing!
“Come along, girls . . . there’s no need to be shy! I’ve seen you fucked by the real things often enough. And smile . . . come along . . . smile.”
Then each girl straddled her legs over the sides of her chair. Slowly they lowered their haunches . . .
Quentin was grinning hugely as, accompanied by gasps and grunts and squeals, those haunches went lower and lower . . . until both girls were fully impaled, their buttocks resting on the velvet padding of the seat top.
“There . . . doesn’t that feel lovely? Doesn’t that bring back happy memories?” asked Quentin brightly.
“Y-Yer . . . ess . . . M-Master . . .” they whispered.
“Good . . . good,” said Quentin. “And now, girls, so that you can truly get the feel of your new toys, you are going to stay exactly where you are for an hour or so. No movements. None. Sorry about that. But I’m also sure you won’t do anything naughty. Don’t forget the TV cameras are on you all the time.”
Quentin signed to his aide who was gazing in fascination at the scene. Seeing the quivering of flesh of buttocks and thighs; hearing the girls sob; watching the tears run down their cheeks.
“Come along, Havers,” said Quentin, “we’ve work to do up above.”
Each girl had her back ramrod straight, her hands clasped on top of her head, her thighs parted. Two pairs of lustrous eyes flickered nervously from side to side - Julia’s a deep blue-green, Melissa’s dark brown - as they began to take in their new surroundings. As if they had just woken from an ordinary sleep, those eyes filled with dawning dread as they gazed upon the familiar figure of their owner, Quentin Osman.
“Welcome to Cragness,” smiled Quentin. He was a fat, oily man of middle age, with close-cropped hair and typically rugged American features. “I won’t ask you if you had a pleasant journey here, for I am aware you knew nothing about it.
Alongside Quentin stood his new aide, Havers. He was a bulletheaded man with coarse, criminal features. Always inclined to perspire, his balding head was positively glistening with sweat as he gazed lasciviously at the two lovely young women who, having been removed from the packing case, had been brought
miraculously to life by means of an injection. It was rather like having unpacked two walking-talking dolls, thought Havers, and then put them into motion. He also thought a lot of other things as he looked at the lush female charms so uninhibitedly displayed.
Havers mind, in fact, positively raced. It was almost impossible to grasp that these girls were actually slaves. Who could be ordered about, punished, made to do what you wanted. At least, Quentin could do all that. Havers ran his tongue over his pale lips - a nervous habit - and ran his sweaty palms down the side of his trousers. Well, the boss had promised him some ‘perks’, hadn’t he? Now he was wondering, already, how long he would have to wait. And which one would he have first? Either would do admirably! My God . . . yes . . . they certainly would! Havers gazed at the gently quivering breasts (a little nervous trembling, no doubt!) and saw the smooth, depilated Mounts of Venus with their proffered sex lips.
“I think the first thing for you to do is take a shower and pretty up,” said Quentin, rubbing his hands. “You’ll find a couple through there.”
He pointed to one of the four doors which led off the room - an ordinary-looking, comfortably furnished drawing room. “So, run along, girls! And incidentally, I’ll think you’ll find your new quarters a considerable improvement to those on board the ‘Paradise’.”
Julia and Melissa rose immediately and followed each other from the room. Havers’ eyes fastened on the bouncing flesh of two seductively swinging bottoms, saw the flash of long white thighs in motion. Then the two had disappeared through the door.
“What do you think of ’em, Havers?” enquired Quentin with a grin.
His aide seemed to have some difficulty in answering at first. He nodded his head enthusiastically. “G-Great . . .” he said hoarsely. “Real classy dames, Quentin. You certainly can pick them, Quentin.”
Yes, thought Havers, ‘classy’ was the word for those two. The sort of women who had always previously been out of his reach.
Society women, moneyed, confidently arrogant. He could never afford such women. They looked at him as he were dirt . . . and he had had to be content with scrubbers and low-class tarts. The sort of women who didn’t mind when a man was not only a criminal but looked like one.
“I guess that’s true,” said Quentin smugly. “And now, Havers, I’ll just repeat what I’ve said several times before. Repeat it for the last time. Get out of line - just once - and you’re finished . . .” Havers was nodding his head with vigorous understanding. “. . . there’ll be no second chances. But play it right and you can
have a good time . . .” More vigorous nodding from Havers! “. . . while I and my wife are here, you have to ask permission to have either of them. Permission may or may not be granted. Nor will you administer any punishment without a direct order. Apart from the odd slap or two, or course . . .”
Havers licked his lips. Those two bottoms were made for slapping!
“When I am not in residence,” continued Quentin, “You and Rosalie will have free run of either of the women. You will find them most co-operative, I’m sure, but you will let me know if they are not. As to any punishments in my absence, they will be administered at your discretion but will be restricted. No more than twenty-four strokes of paddle or strap in a twenty-four hour period, or twelve with the cane. Got it?”
“Sure, boss!” Havers felt almost sick with excitement. It was incredible that he was going to be permitted to thrash such lovely creatures and . . . and . . . then . . . have them do whatever he wanted!
Havers heard the pounding of the blood in his head. My God, life was going to be a real bowl of cherries!
“The same rules apply to Rosalie, of course,” said Quentin. “She knows that, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, Boss . . . I’ve made sure of that.” Havers was fawning, almost cringing, in his tone. He would have gone to any lengths for a man who was offering him so much. Quentin, needless to say, was aware of that. Havers was a most useful tool - rather than an ally and would enable Quentin and Glenda to come and go from Cragness as and when they wished. The freedom of Julia and Melissa might be restricted, but there was no reason why that of their owners should be!
“Well, that’s it then,” said Quentin’ “Any questions?”
“Will they . . . be staying down here all the time?” asked Havers. He was referring to the spacious cellar quarters of Cragness which had been specially converted to accommodate Julia and Melissa.
“Yes. To begin with, anyway,” replied Quentin. “Later we may have them upstairs from time to time. For kitchen duties. Or to act as maids. Or maybe for other things. It will help Rosalie and you out. And there’s no risk of them getting away. Even if they dare try.”
“Don’t you think they’ll even try then?”
Quentin shook his head. “No,” he said flatly. He seemed very sure and Havers wondered why. “By the way, Havers,” added Quentin, “I must congratulate you on doing a first class job down here. Everything seems to be to my specification. It only remains to install the equipment that Madame Vesta let me bring with me. The
contents of the other packing case.”
“Some of the things in that are rather special, aren’t they?”
“You’re right. Very special. The healing lamps and ointments particularly. Puts them back in trim - and fit for more - in no time. Couldn’t really. do without such aids. Without them, one good hiding would put them out of action for a good week or more. As it is, they can be thrashed every day, if need be.”
“It’s amazing,” murmured Havers. “I shan’t believe it until I see it.” It must, he reflected, have been exceedingly unpleasant for those young ladies to heal so quickly . . . so that they were ready to suffer all over again!
At that moment, the door opened and Julia and Melissa came back into - the room. With softly bouncing breasts they resumed their former posture . . . and Havers notice immediately an improvement in their appearance. Their hair had been brushed and combed . . . make-up had removed the ravages of travel . . . smooth female flesh was powdered and exotically scented. Quentin strolled across and, almost casually it seemed, fondled one of Julia’s breasts.
“Better than aboard the Paradise, eh Julia?” he enquired.
“Y-Yes, Master,” answered the girl at once.
“You agree, Melissa?” asked Quentin, going over and also fondling her naked breasts. Havers noted that neither girl recoiled in the slightest; indeed they seemed to thrust out their breasts even more provocatively to receive their owner’s touch.
“Yes, Master,” replied Melissa equally promptly.
Quentin nodded. “Well let me tell you both something at the outset. If either of you ever Makes the slightest attempt to escape from here . . . even an attempt, you understand . . . both of you will be sent back to the Paradise for an indefinite period. And, believe me, I shall have some very special instructions for Madame Vesta!”
The look of terror which crossed over those lovely features shocked Havers. What Quentin had threatened was obviously quite unbearable to think about. He saw now why the man was so convinced that neither girl would so much as try and get away from Cragness. That ‘Paradise’ must have been something else, thought Havers. Otherwise, could such women be made so slavishly submissive? And in such mortal dread of ever returning?
“Have I made myself quite clear?” asked Quentin.
“Yes, Master,” they answered in unison.
“Here are one or two other things I must point out to you,” went on Quentin in a suavely confident way. He was indeed very much the ‘Master’ now that he was in his own domain. “Your living quarters and general conditions are far more comfortable than those on the ‘Paradise.’ You will actually sleep on beds - even if without covering rather than on planks. Nor will there be any collar and chain to keep you there. Indeed, You may sleep on the same bed if you prefer it that way. Also, you are free to roam where you will within these quarters.” Quentin paused and smiled.
“You see what a kind owner, I am?” he asked . . . but did not stay for a reply. “There is one point though. A closed-circuit television system has been installed. Look around the various rooms and you will find a great number of miniature cameras in position. Also, there are microphones everywhere. As a result, every sound and movement you make can be seen on the TV screens in the house above. Your Mistress . . . or I . . . can look in upon you whenever we so desire. Either in reality or by simply turning a knob. In a way, I suppose, it will rather be like being goldfish in a bowl.”
The expressions on the two faces remained blank. Both Julia and Melissa had become expert at controlling their features whatever kind of news they were receiving.
“Now I’ll show you round . . .” Quentin signed to them . . . and Julia and Melissa rose to their feet. They followed meekly after their Master, whilst Havers brought up the rear. His eyes were glued to Melissa’s lush bottom. He was simply aching to get his hands on that succulent flesh!
“This is your bedroom,” announced Quentin, like any courteous host showing guests round. The room, decorated in pink and white, was simply but comfortably furnished with two silk-sheeted beds, dressing tables, chairs, stools and the like. There seemed everything a woman could want to beautify herself. There were even wardrobes. Quentin opened one. It was filled with clothes . . . at which the two girls gazed in wonder. It was literally months since either had had the slightest vestige of covering on her body!
“Not to be worn unless you are given direct orders,” said Quentin with a smile. “Understood?” He closed the door.
“Yes, Master,” came the meek answer in unison.
What must it feel like, wondered Havers, to be a woman who could not clothe herself unless so ordered to do.
Quentin walked across the room and opened another door.
“This is what I have called the Playroom,” he said. “You can, perhaps, guess the sort of thing it will be used for.”
The two girls looked . . . and guessed correctly!
There was a large, circular bed in the centre. Strewn about were colourful bolsters and piles of cushions. Also, two water beds. Apart from these, there were easy chairs, stools and tables. Not to mention a huge cocktail cabinet. The walls were d****d with heavy curtains and Quentin pulled a cord on one wall and the curtain slid back to reveal a full-length mirror. The ceiling, too, was one whole mirror.
“It’s fun to see yourself . . . as others see you,” said Quentin pontifically. “At least, I think so . . .”
The little party moved on. It is in this room that I shall enjoy these two beauties, thought Havers hotly. It still seemed scarcely possible that it could be true. He felt rather like a c***d who had been given a bag of sweets and was happy - but equally terrified that someone would take them away from him. The door led them back into the living room and Quentin walked across to the door on the far side.
“I don’t think you will enjoy looking at this room quite so much,” he said with a smirk. “It has been designed for naughty young ladies . . .”
Havers saw, and sensed, the tension in the two naked figures directly ahead of him. Not surprising, in view of what they could see!
In the centre of the room were two leather-covered blocks. Curving blocks. Punishment blocks! At the head of each was a pillory device in which a victim’s neck and wrists could be placed.
One was labelled ‘Julia’, the other ‘Melissa’.
Quentin made a little gesture, spreading his hands.
“Do try them out,” he said. He made it sound like a suggestion, but both girls were aware that it was an order. At once, both moved forward, each to her named block, knelt at its end, placing her belly on the curving hump, and neck and wrists into the wooden half circles which awaited them. And now Quentin picked up two small boxes which looked rather like pocket-computers.
“I always thought Madam Vesta’s devices, though effective, were rather crude,” he said. “Here we have modernised them. Thanks to my ingenuity . . . and the skill of my aide here.” Quentin smiled at Havers, then pressed one of numerous buttons on the control boxes.
The upper parts of each pillory came sliding down, effectively pinioning the neck and wrists of both girls.
“You can take a look at yourselves,” said Quentin, pressing another button.
Curtains over the wall in front of the blocks drew back. Two faces, two pairs of despairing eyes, gazed out. The humiliation upon humiliation was building up again. Though they had left the ‘Paradise,’ though their surroundings were quite different, nothing had really changed.
Both were suddenly and hideously aware of it.
“From their rear, too,” smiled Quentin, pressing more buttons. Curtains at the opposite end of the room drew back to reveal another mirror. This, cleverly angled, gave the girls a back view of themselves reflected in the front mirror.
Havers’ heart was thumping; he felt rather dizzy. Could this all be really happening? This was where those girls were actually going to get punished. Strapped! Caned! On those lovely, curving buttock cheeks! Incredible!
Havers could not take his eyes of the soft, white flesh so invitingly presented.
“Additional bonds are available,” he heard Quentin saying.
More buttons were pushed and, instantly, a number of broad bands of thin, flexible steel came out of the sides of the blocks. One went over the waist of each girl, pinioning her down tight. Then two more went round the lower part of each thigh . . . pulling the knees about two feet apart as it did so . . . and clamping them securely to the end of the block.
Both girls were even more immodestly displayed.
“And,” said Quentin, “if we wish, we can tighten up . . .”
Flick . . . flick . . . went the buttons.
The hump at the end of each block rose slightly and the knees of each girl were pulled forward . . . thus tautening the flesh over the nates and pulling wide the cleft between those nates.
Havers mouth was slack; he was almost dribbling and he was showing the whites of his eyes.
“A most suitable posture for punishment,” said Quentin, giving his aide a wink. “Or for . . . well whatever you fancy, really!”
Havers gulped. He was getting hotter and hotter and his whole body felt wet with sweat. Would he ever get used to such things? Like Quentin seemed to be? The man was taking it all so calmly. As if it was the most natural thing in the world to treat two lovely young woman in such a degradingly indecent way.
Quentin began pressing buttons in reverse order and gradually the bonds fell away. The pillory was the last to be raised and then the curtains were closed again.
“Up you get, girls,” ordered Quentin almost jovially.
Obediently, together, they rose from off the black leather surfaces a look of relief in their eyes. Both were aware that, if he had been in the mood, there was no reason on earth why Quentin could not have thrashed them then and there!
Back once more in the central drawing room, Julia and Melissa knelt submissively. Both girls were still a little bemused after a long spell under sedation but were gradually beginning to take in their new situation. At least they were off the dreaded ‘Paradise’. That was something. Even if they were owned by, and were at the mercy of, a brutish pig of a man.
No More Madame Vesta . . .
No more Miss Judith . . .
No more Ahmed; no more Jason . . .
Their relief at escaping those monsters was intense. Yet, of course, Quentin remained. As did his wife Glenda. As yet a virtually unknown quantity. Surely she could not match Madame Vesta for cruelty!
No . . . no . . .
Then there was the aide of Quentin. Another pig by the look of him. Sweating and balding. Lusting. It made them sick to think of what they were going to have to do to please him.
Yet . . . yet . . . they were off the ‘Paradise’!
“Havers, have you got that parcel? The one Miss Judith gave me just before I left?”
“Yes, Boss.”
It said ‘not to be opened on voyage’. Well the voyage is over now.
“Let’s have it.”
Havers came forward with a square parcel wrapped up in brown paper and Quentin looked at the two kneeling figures.
“It’s a present to you both, from Miss Judith,” he said. “Isn’t that kind of her?”
A muscle in Julia’s cheek twitched. As both girls knew, there was not a single atom of kindness in that blonde virago’s whole being! They watched impassively, yet apprehensively, as Quentin unwrapped the parcel. Like Pandora’s Box, only evil could come out of it.
Slowly, carefully, Quentin took off the cardboard lid and looked inside. His podgy face creased instantly into a smile, then guffaws of laughter burst from him:
“Well . . . well oh yes . . . that really is kind of Miss Judith! Oohh . . . aaahhh . . . yes. So thoughtful! Look what she’s given you!”
Julia and Melissa looked.
And looked in hopeless silence.
In Quentin’s hands were two large black dildoes. Exact replicas of the two negro penises which had repeatedly ravished them aboard the ‘Paradise’. To emphasise that point, one carried a small tab with the name ‘Jason’ on it, the other tab being that of ‘Ahmed’!
“Here . . . catch!” Quentin tossed the two formidable looking rubber devices across to the girls. Each caught one and held it before her. “Miss Judith has sent a little note with them. I’ll read it.”
Quentin first glanced through the letter, then began to read it aloud:
I am sure both Julia and Melissa will have many happy memories of Ahmed and Jason. What girl who loves the feel of a big, black cock up her wouldn’t? And I know both the girls love that feeling! I have seen them wriggling away too often, while they were being solidly fucked, not to know that.
So, in order that neither of the girls feels deprived, I have had these replicas made. They are exact, by the way. If you measure carefully, you will discover that ‘Jason’ is about half an inch longer, while ‘Ahmed’ is a fraction thicker in the girth. Just as they really are.
I don’t know who preferred who but now both girls can enjoy both.
Whenever you give them permission, of course.
I am enclosing some attachments which you may find useful. There are harnesses for attaching these dildoes to someone’s body. Alternatively, they can be set in a frame which, in turn, can be fastened to the front part of a chair. This latter method is best when the girls want to play games on
their own.
Well then, Quentin, give both my very best wishes . . . and here’s hoping they have many happy hours in the months ahead, with ‘Jason’ and ‘Ahmed’. By the way, tell them they need not bother to write and thank me!
Sincerely,
JUDITH.’
Quentin looked up, his face wreathed in smiles.
“There, girls, isn’t that a nice gesture?” he said winsomely. “Trust Miss Judith not to forget you!”
Sick despair was written on both the faces before him. He could see that Julia’s was near to tears. The obscene cruelty of Judith’s action was biting deep into the souls of both of them.
Here were reminders of some of the most horrifying moments in their lives. Moments of pain, shame and utter degradation.
Permanent reminders!
“Well then,” said Quentin, “let’s see if we can fix them up. Ready for use . . .”
He wandered around the room and then chose two low-seated chairs. They were Edwardian in character, with gilt oval framework for back and seat, both the back and the seat being thickly padded with purple velvet.
“Let’s have those things, please Havers.”
Havers took the two black objects. By God, he thought, what a size! Those darkies really had been well made! Quite frightening for any young woman. Let alone a well-bred society woman. He was beginning to get some little idea of what Julia and Melissa must have gone through in their time. He watched with interest as Quentin fastened the dildoes into two slim, slat-like frameworks and, in turn, strapped these over the front of the chair seats.
The two mock penises thrust rigidly erect, black and menacing, the phallic heads a pinkish-purple colour.
“There,” said Quentin, standing back admiringly, “that’s fine.” “Come along, girls, up you get and renew acquaintanceships with your two coloured gentlemen friends. Not quite as good as the real thing . . . but not at all bad, I’d say.”
Julia and Melissa stood up. The tension in them had become very evident. Julia was biting her lips furiously, Melissa was cutting her nails into her palms. Their bitterness towards Miss Judith knew no bounds as they gazed upon the obscene objects awaiting them . . . What a vile, vile creature she was!
“Who would you like, Julia? Ahmed or Jason? But then, I don’t suppose you mind, really.”
As it happened, Julia came to stand before the chair on which Ahmed’s dildoe had been placed.
“A-Ahmed, M-Master,” she managed to whisper.
“That leaves Jason for you, Melissa,” smiled Quentin. “He’s just that little bit longer. I expect you’ll like that.”
Havers wiped the sweat from his brow. It was amazing that women could be made to do such a thing!
“Come along, girls . . . there’s no need to be shy! I’ve seen you fucked by the real things often enough. And smile . . . come along . . . smile.”
Then each girl straddled her legs over the sides of her chair. Slowly they lowered their haunches . . .
Quentin was grinning hugely as, accompanied by gasps and grunts and squeals, those haunches went lower and lower . . . until both girls were fully impaled, their buttocks resting on the velvet padding of the seat top.
“There . . . doesn’t that feel lovely? Doesn’t that bring back happy memories?” asked Quentin brightly.
“Y-Yer . . . ess . . . M-Master . . .” they whispered.
“Good . . . good,” said Quentin. “And now, girls, so that you can truly get the feel of your new toys, you are going to stay exactly where you are for an hour or so. No movements. None. Sorry about that. But I’m also sure you won’t do anything naughty. Don’t forget the TV cameras are on you all the time.”
Quentin signed to his aide who was gazing in fascination at the scene. Seeing the quivering of flesh of buttocks and thighs; hearing the girls sob; watching the tears run down their cheeks.
“Come along, Havers,” said Quentin, “we’ve work to do up above.”
Bess
- 06.07.2022
- 27
- 0
