Enslaved
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Although Chief Organiser and controller of the Paradise and all its works, Madame Vesta customarily left general matters of discipline and training to her numerous assistants. No one knew better than she how capable they were at carrying out tasks.
Miss Kaufman, for example, the chief overseer, was a middle aged woman with iron in her soul - a natural disciplinarian to her very fingertips. Her assistants, such as Miss Judith and Miss Mara, whilst being somewhat more attractive to look upon, were scarcely less efficient in their duties. And sometimes even more enthusiastic.
However, Madame Vesta did make it a practice to inspect all new arrivals aboard the Paradise so that, when news of Julia’s safe arrival was brought to her, she first of all consulted her records. She read as follows:
JULIA CHANT
Aged 22 years
Anglo-American origin
Occupation: Minor modelling career in youth. escort to numerous wealthy men. Enjoyed life as a ‘playgirl’. Became mistress of Quentin Osman. Cheated the latter both sexually and financially.
Characteristics: Tall, good figure, above average in looks.
Figure: 38 - 24 - 38. Long dark hair, blue-green eyes, aristocratic features. Selfish, arrogant, short-tempered.
Madame Vesta smiled faintly as she studied these brief details. They were fairly typical of the young women who were sent to her. She had also learnt at first hand from Quentin something more of Julia’s life style. All in all, she reflected, Julia made excellent material for the regime aboard the Paradise. It would be a pleasure, in due course, to present her to Quentin in a quite remarkably reformed condition. Madame Vesta lifted the house-phone on her desk.
„Ask Miss Judith to come to my quarters as soon as it is convenient,“ she said. Some five minutes later, a tall attractive blonde in her early twenties knocked and entered Madame Vesta’s cabin. She was clad in the customary garb of a female overseer...thigh-length black boots, a brief black leather skirt and tiny bolero jacket to match. Through the belt above her waist was looped a long leathern thong attached to a short
wooden handle.
„Good evening, Ma’am,“ she said respectfully.
„Good evening, Miss Judith,“ came the reply.
„I am sorry to have kept you waiting, Ma’am,“ said the tall blonde, „but I was in the middle of giving Tania an
extra caning.“
„An extra caning?“ Madame Vesta’s voice showed no surprise. It was flat, almost indifferent.
„Yes, Ma’am,“ said Miss Judith, „As you may recall, Tania was on the official Punishment Session this evening... but in my opinion something additional would not come amiss in her case.“
Madame Vesta nodded. „I quite understand, Miss Judith,“ she said. „You have a free hand in such matters. Tania is inclined to be a little rebellious, I believe.“
„I think we can now begin to say was,“ answered Miss Judith with a faint smile.
Madame Vesta nodded again. Her high cheek-boned face remained impassive. She rarely interfered in disciplinary matters - unless she considered them lacking in severity.
„The woman Julia has arrived aboard,“ she said. „Owned by Quentin Osman, the American. You remember him?“
„Indeed, Ma’am,“ replied Miss Judith, „I had heard she was now on board.“
„When Mr. Osman was on the ship,“ continued Madame Vesta, „he made a specific request that you be put in charge of Julia’s training. He seemed to be impressed by your efficiency.“
Madame Vesta’s lips moves slightly in a grim charade of a smile. On the other hand, Miss Judith smiled more openly, showing white tigerish teeth.
„I am pleased to receive such a commendation from a guest,“ she said.
„Well ... „ said Madame Vesta, „I intend to put this woman in your charge. According to Mr. Osman, she is quite a handful.“
Miss Judith smiled her tigerish smile again. „He did mention something of that to me,“ she said.
„However,“ said Madame Vesta. „I am sure that will not present many problems. Life at liberty and life aboard the `Paradise´ are two rather different things. What were difficulties for Mr. Osman, will present no difficulties for us.“
„I agree, Ma’am,“ said Miss Judith. Her pleasure at the assignment she had been given was obvious. There was nothing she liked more than having something of a ‘rebel’ to deal with!
„Lets go below then“ said Madame Vesta, rising from her desk. „We’ll have Jason along. He’s always quite an impressive sight for a newcomer.“
Jason was one of the two giant Negro overseers on board the `Paradise´, both of whom acted as assistants to the female overseers.
Miss Judith went to the house-phone and made the necessary arrangements, then the two women left the cabin and began to descend to the lower depths of the ship. There was a look of smug satisfaction on Miss Judith’s face. It was quite a time since she had been assigned a newcomer. And a so-called ‘rebel’ at that.
Though Julia Chant’s features were a little grimy and her clothes somewhat dishevelled, that scarcely detracted from the loveliness of her features and her figure. It was scarcely surprising she looked as crumpled as she did, having travelled under sedation in a packing case for a considerable number of days - the normal method of shipment of ‘cargo’ despatched to the Paradise.
She stood in the centre of a small, bare cabin, her arms aloft and held by manacles and chains. ‘Stood’ is not
exactly the right word for, being still semi-conscious, she was half erect by the manacles about her wrists rather than by her own volition. Madame Vesta and Miss Judith studied the tall, shapely figure which was now in their possession.
„Mr. Osman certainly has good taste,“ remarked Miss Judith.
„Indeed,“ replied Madame Vesta perfunctorily. She switched on an overhead spotlight so that Julia was more strongly illuminated.
„All the same,“ she added, „he does not like being two-timed.“
„Naturally,“ said Miss Judith. „Well, she’ll soon learn that now. Shall I give her an injection?“
„Please do.“ answered Madame Vesta.
Miss Judith advanced with the hypodermic she had brought with her and plunged the needle into the side of Julia Chant’s neck. It was the first of the daily injections Julia would be receiving from that moment on. They were a special stimulant which prolonged powers of endurance remarkably.
Also they ensured that a far greater physical effort than normal was possible. Without the stimulant a girl would have fainted long before through pain, shock or fatigue... so it was a most valuable asset in the regime of the Paradise.
Valuable... but scarcely welcome by those who receive it!
Julia’s large, wide-set eyes opened a few moments after the needle had been removed from her neck. They had a liquid luminosity about them - but a bewildered blankness too.
„W-What has happened... to me?“ she asked in a hoarse whisper. „Have ... have I had an accident?“
„No,“ said Madame Vesta with a sardonic smile. „Your presence here is by design.“
Julia’s eyes took on a deeper bewilderment. She looked up, seeing the chains and manacles that held her.
„M-My... wrists are hurting,“ she said weakly. „Please take these... these things off and let my arms down. They ache awfully. Is... is this some sort of hospital? Please tell me what has happened. I remember I was in that taxi... then I got drowsy...“
No reply came. Madame Vesta was waiting for the stimulant to get a stronger hold.
„Who are you?“ asked Julia plaintively. „Where am I?“
„All in good time,“ said Miss Judith.
„Let me out of these things. It’s hurting, I tell you. What the Hell’s going on?“ There was a flash of anger both in Julia’s voice and her eyes. She was beginning to come to life properly again. „Don’t just stand there... do something, whoever your are,“ she snapped.
Again no answer was forthcoming.
„Do you hear me?“ Julia almost yelled. „I’m called Julia Chant... and I don’t know what game you’re playing... but you’ll certainly pay for it!“
Madame Vesta stepped forward casually. Then she gave Julia’s face two stinging slaps. Extremely hard slaps, across right and left cheeks.
„Lets get your head a little clearer, my girl,“ she said.
Julia’s mouth gaped in shock... then a stream of vituperation came from it. One could scarcely call it the kind
of language one would have expected to hear from a young woman of her background.
Madame Vesta slapped Julia’s face again. This time she got two resounding slaps on each cheek and her head jerked from side to side as if she were a rag doll being shaken. Momentarily she was stunned into silence. Then a further stream of vituperation came from her... culminating with threats of what she would do as soon as she got her hands free.
„This is assault!“ she screeched. „I... I... I’ll see you go inside for this... oh my God... I’ll kill you for this!“
Miss Judith smiled delightedly. It seemed that this Julia had as much spirit as she had hoped.
„Now listen to me... „ said Madame Vesta, gripping Julia by a hank of rich, glossy black hair.
„I won’t... I won’t... let me go!“ cried Julia, now distraught. The fury blazed from those glinting blue-green
eyes.
Unhurriedly, methodically, Madame Vesta smacked Julia’s face again. This time four smashing slaps fell on each cheek and, head reeling and ringing, Julia slumped in her chains.
„Oh... oh you b-b**st... how c-can you... „ she sobbed.
Madame Vesta took hold of the girl’s hair again.
„I told you to listen to me,“ she said calmly. „Are you going to or not? I don’t mind slapping your pretty face all night if need be.“
For perhaps the first time a flicker of fear passed over Julia’s face. She realised that something quite unpredictable... quite ghastly... had happened to her. She must have been k**napped by these horrible women. She was being held to ransom. Well, thank God Quentin was well-heeled. He’d pay whatever asked, the stupid bastard. No... she mustn’t think of him like that not any more. Suddenly he had become her lifeline.
Julia swallowed, trying to get a grip on herself. Her ears were still ringing and her cheeks felt aflame. I must
keep calm, she told herself.
„I... I’ll listen,“ she managed to say, with all the meekness she could muster.
„The first thing to get into your skull, girl,“ said Madame Vesta, maintaining a grip on Julia’s hair, „is that your life is no longer your own. You are now a captive slave-girl, owned by Quentin Osman... and here, on board my ship, for training. For training to his requirements and satisfaction.“
Julia’s mouth sagged. Her face, scarcely surprising, looked uncomprehending.
„What are you talking about?“ she said. „You must be mad. A slave? Of Quentin? Oh... don’t be ridiculous...“
Remorselessly, Madame Vesta slapped Julia’s face left and right again. Four more slaps on each cheek... until Julia was crying out half hysterically.
„S-Stop... oh... stop it... stop!“
„If you ever call me mad again,“ said Madame Vesta menacingly, „I’ll have you whipped until the blood runs.“
Julia froze, then shuddered violently. A clarion of bells were reeling through her head. What was this nightmare?
„Whipped?“ she croaked, between sobs, „what... what... oh no... you must be...“ Her voice dried up. Just in
time she had checked herself. She must humour these imbeciles. She must be careful. Her life was in
danger. How it had all happened... even exactly what had happened... and an inexplicable mystery. If she kept her head, all might still be well.
„Yes... whipped.“ said Madame Vesta icily. „And now I will repeat what I said... and you will remain silent,
girl.“
Julia bridled at the contemptuous form of address but, biting her lips, managed to remain silent. She did not want to invite any more of those murderous slaps from this madwoman. Coldly Madame Vesta repeated the facts of Julia’s new situation. That she was now a slave. Sent there by Quentin. That she was but one of many such. That, in due time, Quentin would arrive and see her as a reformed character. As his slave.
At this point Julia’s patience snapped.
„His slave,“ she almost snarled. „That fat slob!“
The relentless face-slapping was resumed, until Julia was in a state of near delirium.
„When Mr. Osman arrives, in a month or two’s time,“ said Madame Vesta above Julia’s retching sobs. „You will be happy to go on your knees and beg to be allowed to have the honour of kissing the arse of that fat slob - as you so arrogantly call him.“
„No... oh no... „ moaned Julia. „It... it... mmmfff... c-can’t be true... it can’t be real... this... this must be a nightmare. Oh please let me wake up... p-please... let me go...“
„Give her another injection, please Miss Judith,“ said Madame Vesta. „It won’t do any harm at this stage.“
Miss Judith was quick to comply, with Julia desperately trying to cringe away from the needle.
„You may be interested to know that I am going to be in charge of your training, Julia.“ said Miss Judith as she jabbed. „Mr Osman requested it... and I think I’m going to rather enjoy it.“
„Osman... Osman has been here?“ croaked Julia. „I can’t believe it... I can’t understand it... it... it... it’s all s-so... impossible...“
„Of course,“ responded Madame Vesta, „it is always a little difficult for any girl to comprehend at first. Such
words, such statements are difficult to take in. A practical demonstration of the facts is, however, more convincing.“ She turned to Miss Judith. „You gave Jason his instructions?“
„Yes, Ma’am,“ answered the blonde overseer. „He is bringing Rebecca with him.“
Julia, eyes wide, was looking disbelievingly from one woman to the other. Every moment her predicament was seeming to get even more frightful than it had seemed at the outset.
„Ah yes... Rebecca,“ said Madame Vesta. She turned back to Julia. „Rebecca is the slave of a friend of Mr. Osman’s. A certain Otto Gerber. She has been here for some time now... and learnt to behave herself.“
There was knock on the cabin door.
„Come in,“ called Madame Vesta.
The door opened and Jason, one of the two massive Negro assistants aboard, entered. As usual he was naked, but for a brief white triangle of cloth about his loins. The triangle bulged prodigiously; the Negroes body glistened with oil under the harsh light. A choking sound came from Julia... and then a disbelieving, wailing cry.
For behind Jason came Rebecca, a voluptuous red-head, slave of Otto Gerber. She was naked and crawling meekly on all fours, led by a collar and lead.
„Mr Gerber,“ said Madame Vesta complacently, „likes Rebecca to be exercised a couple of times a day. Jason usually takes her on a little tour. This seemed an appropriate stopping point this evening.“
Mouth agape, Julia’s face quivered with incredulity. Her eyes were starting from her head.
„No... oh... no... oh... no... no“ she whimpered as she gazed on the crouching figure.
„Kiss your Master’s feet, slave,“ said Madame Vesta peremptorily.
Without hesitation, Rebecca’s mouth pressed to the black flesh.
„No... oh... no... no... „ Julia continued to whimper. This is a nightmare, she told herself. I must wake up
soon!
„Show your bottom to this girl,“ said Madame Vesta.
Again without hesitation, Rebecca moved so that her voluptuous hindquarters were directly towards Julia. A dozen freshly-raised twin-track cane weals encircled the lush white flesh.
„NO!“ Julia almost shrieked.
„Before Rebecca was brought here,“ said Madame Vesta, quite unmoved by Julia’s reaction, „she was caned. Caned by Jason here. One of my assistants. Not, I may say, for any fault on this occasion, but merely to demonstrate to you, my girl, that any slave aboard this ship can be thrashed at any time... Julia for any reason or none. Simply at my command. And you... Julia... you are now such a slave!“
Julia’s eyes dilated in horror.
„No... no... NO... OOO!“ she cried. „I can’t believe it... I won’t... I won’t believe it... it... it’s impossible! It’s hideous... it... it’s disgusting... ooohhh... that poor woman... ohhh... you will pay for this vile monstrosity!“
Madame Vesta’s face remained impassive. She was all too familiar with such outbursts from newcomers. It was something, to one degree or another, that they all went through.
Just part of the process.
Disbelief... desperation... they were all quite natural. After a few weeks there was a fatalist acceptance.
Then they truly knew they were slaves.
„Up!“ ordered Madame Vesta.
Jason gave a tug on the lead and Rebecca sprang to her feet, setting her fulsome white breasts bouncing. Her flesh was velvety, creamy white. Her features were sharp, her nose long; the red hair fell to her smooth shoulders. In her hazel coloured eyes was that familiar look of despair acquired by a trained slave. Her body hair had been shaved. That was an order of her owner, Otto Gerber. Round her waist was a slim silver chain.
„Put her on a hook!“ ordered Madame Vesta. The Negro assistant led Rebecca to the wall and fastened
the leash to one of the strong hooks projecting.
„Are you beginning to believe me, girl?“ asked Madame Vesta.
„No... no... it can’t be true... „ was all Julia could whimper. Yet her eyes were fastened with a hideous fascination on Rebecca’s docile nakedness as she stood submissively leashed to the hook.
„Well then“ said Madame Vesta calmly, „we shall have to continue to make you believe that you are now a slave. It does take rather longer with some than others.“ She turned to the black giant.
„Jason,“ she ordered, „strip this creature naked. Let’s look at the wares which she prizes so highly.“
Jason stepped forward slowly. His strong teeth showed suddenly and startling white. A mixture of amusement and lust. He too enjoyed a newcomer.
„NO... OOOO!“ cried Julia, her voice almost screeching. She recoiled back as far as the manacles and chains would allow. She had a natural aversion to coloured people anyway.
Casually Jason hooked his finger into the top of her dishevelled dress.
„NO... NO... OOOOO!“ cried Julia again.
In one easy movement Jason’s finger opened her dress from neck to hem, to reveal a brief bra and panty set of rose-pink net. The firm fulsomeness of her figure was even better revealed.
„You... you b**st... you filthy b-b**st... stop it... stop it...“ screamed Julia, twisting violently this way and
that. „How dare you... I’ll kill you... I’ll kill you!“
Unhurriedly Jason hooked his finger into Julia’s flimsy brassiere and ripped that away too. Her white, strongnippled breasts came thrusting out, swinging wildly with her attempts at evasion. Madame Vesta regarded them stonily, but there was a hint of appreciation in Miss Judith’s eyes.
Yes... Mr. Osman certainly had good taste. Julia was one of the better developed arrivals for some time.
„You... you devils... you... you swine... oh God... you’ll pay for this... „ Julia’s eyes were blazing fierily; her mouth was a quivering gape of shocked horror.
Jason’s finger went to the sole remaining brief garment, pulling teasingly on the elastic of the panties. As he well knew, this would be the last time Julia had any covering of that nature, unless her master decreed.
„NO... YOU CAN’T... YOU CAN’T!“ came the wailing cry.
In her desperation, Julia jerked her head forward and her teeth snapped at Jason’s biceps like a cat trying to catch a fly. Accustomed to such tactics, he avoided her easily... and ripped the panties away.
Julia swung there, now completely naked in her chains, her features a contorted frenzy of hate and fury.
„Monsters... aaaggghhh... you monsters!“ she screeched hoarsely.
Madame Vesta remained impassive Miss Judith smiled benignly being very pleased with her charge’s display of spirit The body revealed could scarcely be faulted. It was full and lush yet superbly proportioned. Upthrusting breasts, smooth curving belly, swelling hips, long thighs.
„Slaves do not try to bite,“ said Madame Vesta, giving Jason a nod.
Jason moved around behind the still twisting Julia. He was no novice at this sort of initiation. He surveyed the
curvaceous quivering white bottom with considerable satisfaction... and then he slapped it hard. He slapped it hard again and again, with Julia yelping loudly with pain and shock. The slaps on her face had been
horrifying enough... but to have this black brute smacking her bottom was a humiliation beyond anything she had imagined possible.
Jason’s hard black palm fell first on one cheek then another... and Julia squirmed ever more frenziedly. Both
with the pain of the slaps and in an attempt to avoid them.
„D-Devils... aahh... oww... you d-devils... I’ll kill you for this... b**sts... b**stS... BEEE... b**stS!“ she
screeched.
Indeed, within half a minute or so, she became almost incoherent in her verbal frenzy. That anything so vile could ever happen to her had never remotely crossed her remind before. There she was stripped naked. Having her bare bottom slapped by a brutal black man! Unbelievable! Unbelievable... and unbearable! IMPOSSIBLE!
Yet... yet... it was happening!
Julia thought she would gladly have died in those moments. Anything... anything... was better than what was happening to her. Oh... oohh... the hideous horror of it! The whole world... everything... had gone mad... mad... mad!
„STOP IT... SSSTOO... OOOOPPPP... IT... STTT... OOOPPPPPP!“ she shrieked.
Grinning complacently, Jason continued to slap the wildly squirming buttocks until he received another nod from Madame Vesta. Breasts heaving, choking with sobs, Julia hung and swung in her manacles and chains. Her eyes rolled back in her head, saliva dribbled from the corners of her mouth. How... how OH HOW... could this be happening to HER!
„Are practical demonstrations beginning to impress you more than words, girl?“ enquired Madame Vesta when Julia seemed to be gaining some little control of her seething emotions.
Julia’s eyes blazed like hot coals at the black-clad figure who stood before her.
„She-devil!“ she screeched. „Devil... devil... she devil... I... I’ll... rip you to pieces for... this... ahhhh... ohhh... my God... I’ll follow you to Hell... to m-make you p-pay...“ Julia burst into a torrent of sobs and her head slumped. She swung in her chains, temporarily mentally an emotionally drained.
„Quite the tigress,“ remarked Miss Judith with her self-satisfied smile.
„Oh yes... quite,“ nodded Madame Vesta. „But we were led to expect that. But I think the time has come to start taming the tigress properly. We can now, I think you will agree, dispense with these fun and games.“
„I agree entirely,“ said Miss Judith.
Madame Vesta signed to Jason.
„Put on a collar and chain,“ she ordered, „and then released her from the manacles.“
Jason fastened a broad leather collar about Julia’s white neck, then attached a slim length of chain to a small ring at the front.
„S-Stop it... oooh... stop ooo you can’t do this... „ choked Julia. Wild with fury as she was, there was now an edge of panic in her voice. She was beginning to realise she was deeply into something more frightful than
she had first dared to contemplate. Her face still burnt and her ears still rang from Madame Vesta’s slaps; the cheeks of her bottom still stung from the negro’s slaps.
Yes... the negro’s slaps! How could she... SHE... have had her bottom smacked by a negro! It was all so utterly... incredibly... impossible!
Meanwhile, Miss Judith had unleashed Rebecca from the hook on the wall.
„Down,“ she said.
Immediately the red-head went to all fours, curvaceous bottom thrusting high. There she waited in abject resignation. The manacles about Julia’s hand went to the chain. With all her might she strained back, trying to resist Jason’s pull.
„NO... NO... OOO... ooohh... what are you doing?“ she shrieked.
„Down you go ... like Rebecca,“ said Jason, giving Julia’s buttocks another full-blooded slap.
„Yee... oowww... no... no... stop it... stop... oh stop it!“
„Disobedience,“ said Jason, giving Julia’s bottom yet another sweeping slap.
„NO... NO... OOO!“ screamed Julia, now quite distraught.
„Don’t bother with it,“ intervened Madame Vesta. „She’ll be doing as she’s told soon enough. Just bring her along Jason.“
„Very well, Ma’am,“ nodded the overseer. Then he picked up Julia in his muscular arms, pulling her back on the collar and chain so that she had no chance to bite at him. He marched to the door with Julia kicking and
threshing wildly.
„NO... NO... NO... OOO!“ the screams continued.
It need hardly be said that Jason was not unappreciative of the touch of the lush womanly body struggling against him. Struggling so uselessly. He could handle Julia as easily as if she were a five-year old c***d. Nor need it hardly be said with what horror and revulsion that Julia found herself clamped helplessly against the muscular black nakedness.
She wanted to murder the brute... she wanted to die! But why... oh why... at least, did she not faint with the
appalling horror of it? It was not possible for a woman like her to endure such things! But then, of course, Julia knew nothing, at that moment, of the relentless power of the stimulants which flowed through her veins. Normally, she would have fainted. But no longer. She had been endowedwith powers beyond her own wishes.
The little convoy moved along the passageways of the Paradise. Jason with the struggling shrieking Julia in front, Madame Vesta in the middle, Rebecca docily trotting along at the end, led by Miss Judith.
Up a companionway, along another passage, and the dread, black double doors appeared ahead. Above them in Gothic lettering, the words ‘PUNISHMENT ROOM’ stood out in bold relief. How many slaves aboard the Paradise had approached those doors with indescribable dread! How many more in time to come - including Julia... would do so equally!
In they went... into the largest cabin-chamber of all on the Paradise. There was the dais with its chairs, from which Madame Vesta or Miss Kaufman made their irrevocable pronouncements... there was the Whipping Post, the Whipping block, the Horse, and the wide variety of intricate contrivances up which ‘recalcitrants’ could be helplessly secured in every conceivable kind of posture. There were the chains, the manacles, the leg irons... the vast array of corrective instruments... all waiting ready. A familiar enough sight to those accustomed to make to make use of it; a veritable Chamber of Horrors to those who had to suffer in it.
As it happened, the Punishment Room was not empty. There was, one might say, some remains of corrective discipline meted out earlier in the evening. At the appointed hour for such things. It consisted of a naked slave girl still tightly secured over a kind of wood and leather Hurdle. Her wrists were shackled to her ankles; her fingertips and toes were an inch or so from the floor. Thus she took the weight of herself on her belly and flanks, her hindquarters upthrust in a curve. These hindquarters were stripped from the top of her buttocks to halfway down her thighs... for, earlier that evening, she had been flogged with a threethonged
martinet. Painful enough indeed but, with calculated cruelty, her pain had been prolonged and even intensified.
For over the thrusting buttocks and down the thighs had been placed a thin sheet of gauze. Still wet, closely
impregnated with salt crystals, it clung like a second skin, so thin that the weals showed clearly through. The added agony that the stinging-biting salt induced was very evident... for the tormented flesh never ceased to twitch and quiver, and the groaning sobs were continuous.
Madame Vesta, now leading the little convoy, passed the figure with utter indifference. A punishment had been decreed: a punishment had been administered; a punishment was being endured. That was all there was to it.
They came to a halt in the very centre of the Punishment Room. Julia still clamped in Jason’s arms, had ceased struggling. Probably through temporary exhaustion. Eyes wide, she simply whimpered like a wounded, cornered a****l.
„Put her on the ring, Jason,“ ordered Madame Vesta.
The Ring designated was right before them. It was a simple enough affair... and was indeed a ring of iron some seven or eight feet across, raised three feet of the floor. In the centre of the Ring, set in the floor, was a pinioning device on a small iron turn-table. In effect, the device was a small pillory into which the victim’s head and wrists could be locked, the rest of her body then being d****d over the raised iron rim of the Ring. Thus it will be understood that, whilst being held completely helpless, the victim would have complete freedom of movement... in a circular direction only. Round and around the rim of the Ring, in fact, with her hindquarters raised up in a convenient curve.
In panic, Julia came actively to life again when Jason began to fix her neck and wrists into the iron pillory.
Understandably enough, for it was a daunting moment, even for the most hardened who ever had to visit that dread Room.
Jason’s task took less than a minute to complete. There came the click of the key in the padlock which held the pillory crushingly tight.
„Excellent,“ commented Madame Vesta, surveying Julia’s nakedness, so invitingly and so helplessly presented.
„Indeed... „ smiled Miss Judith in agreement. Though she was well aware that it was Madame Vesta’s prerogative to make the first vivid impressions on this newcomer, it would not be long before her turn came. In fact, her pleasures would be of a more prolonged and satisfying nature.
„Now, you arrogant harlot,“ said Madame Vesta in a voice of steel, ‘you are going to be made to understand that every word I have said it true... “
„Oh... l-let me... go... oh God... I’m choking... oooh... let me go... oooh... what are you g-going to do?“ croaked Julia.
„Do?“ Madame Vesta smiled faintly. „I, Julia, am going to give you a thrashing that you will remember for the rest of your life...“
„NO... Y-YOU C-CAN’T!“
„... and while you are getting it, my girl, I want you to think of one thing in particular. Whether you are capable of coherent thought, that is...“
„NO... OO... LET ME G-GO... LET ME G-GO!“
„... and that is, I say, that Quentin Osman has arranged it all... and that it is he whose slave you now are...“
„NO... OOO... NO... OOOOOO!“
Julia’s choking cries and protests continued as Madame Vesta walked across to a rack where an astonishing variety of instruments hung in readiness. She did not take long in making her choice. She nearly always used the same instrument at these ‘initiations’.
The instrument she took down had a smooth ebony handle. From this extended some four feet of tightly plaited leather.
It could only extend as straight as it did, not drooping as a whip would, because the leather was plaited round a thin core of whalebone. At the handle end, this instrument was about the thickness of an index finer... and it tapered to its tip where it had no more than the thickness of a knitting needle.
Not the deadliest of instruments used aboard the `Paradise´, but quite, quite deadly enough for a newcomer!
Moreover, it has to be said that the sting of this particular instrument was literally in its tail. That is to say, at the tip... where it would bite most viciously of all. For the last six inches of this switch were not plaited
with leather. The white whalebone was exposed and, inset into it at half-inch intervals were a dozen zircons... tiny, diamond-hard pellets.
Madame Vesta ran the switch lovingly through her fingers, then flexed it with relish. It was always the greatest pleasure for her to ‘initiate’ a newcomer. It was almost the only time she took any truly active part in matters of discipline.
Complacently - yet with inner sadistic delight - she gazed upon Julia’s voluptuous hindquarters, unmarked but for the blotches left by Jason’s slaps. Never, she thought, will this woman be the same again. Her slavery is beginning in earnest!
Expertly, methodically, and without haste, Madame Vesta whiplashed the switch across Julia’s buttocks.
The effect of each full-blooded cut was, to say the least, remarkable. The sounds Julia made were well-nigh indescribable... and can perhaps be best compared to the sound of a pig in a slaughter-house. And the contortions which her shapely hindquarters performed had to be seen to be believed.
Sometimes the strokes came from Julia’s right, sometimes from her left. Sometimes there was ten seconds or so between each stroke, sometimes as much as half a minute. For, naturally enough, in her frenzy of pain, Julia swivelled wildly around and around the Ring. Partly because of the intensity of the pain and partly in a vain attempt to evade the next stroke to come. Never for one single second did her bottom cease to squirm with uncontrollable v******e. With a frantic kind of frenzy. The nates clenching and unclenching incessantly.
But no matter how much Julia swirled and twisted around the Ring, Madame Vesta was always ready for her. Ready to strike in her own time; at the most appropriate moment.
There were times when Julia’s thighs were splayed wide in her agony... and then the switch would bite into the soft inner flesh of them. Perhaps once, perhaps twice. Then Madame Vesta would return her attentions to the lushness of the madly juddering buttock-flesh.
The cacophony of hideous-shrieking sound became even louder. Impassively watching, Jason stood with folded arms. Alongside him was Miss Judith, eyes bright with sadistic pleasure. It was great to see a woman getting her first thrashing. It was one, she knew, whatever happened later, they never, never forgot. And Madame Vesta was pulling out all the stops on this occasions, no doubt sensing that Julia had more pride and arrogance in her than most... apart from above average looks and figure.
Alongside Miss Judith still crouched the compliant figure of Rebecca. Her head was bowed, so she could not see Julia on the Ring. But she could hear her. It recalled to her that first dread time she had been there and, involuntarily, her own nates twitched and contracted from time to time. The agonising bite of the zircons at the end of that whiplashing switch was something never to be forgotten!
But could one say that Rebecca felt pity, or even sympathy, for Julia? Scarcely so. For, after one had been aboard the `Paradise´ for a few days one could only have room for pity for ones self. That drained up all the supply of that emotion. Indeed, sometimes it was a kind of relief to see or hear another being punished... saying to oneself that, this time at least, it is not me!
„MERC... EEE... AAAAIIIEEE... MERC... EEE!“ The agonised, high-pitched pleas could not be heard between the screams.
Face set, unmoved, Madame Vesta laid yet another stroke fully across the centre of Julia’s juddering bottom when it conveniently presented itself as she threshed around the Ring.
Again...
This time across the tips of the thighs.
Again...
Back to the buttocks again, the zircons biting into the flank.
Again...
This time on the inner part of a thigh, for the thighs were splayed.
Again...
Back to the writhing, up-thrust nates.
„YYYAAAIIIEEEE! AAAHH... M-M-MERC... EEEEEEE!“
But there was no mercy. The thrashing continued remorselessly. Until despite the double dose of stimulant she had received, Julia’s flesh, blood and spirit could endure no more.
A merciful oblivion descended upon her as her head slumped down, senseless at last... having known pain far beyond all normal endurance.
The sudden silence in the Room seemed almost strange. The ears of all were still ringing with the shrieking sounds which had just ceased. Seemingly quite unruffled, Madame Vesta replaced the deadly switch back in the rack.
Then she surveyed the havoc she had wrought... the stilltwitching flesh of buttocks and thighs criss-crossed in a multiplicity of red and purpling weals. A thorough ‘initiation’ indeed. Madame Vesta’s head nodded slightly as if in congratulation of herself. Yes... for sure, Julia would never forget what had just been done to her.
„Take her to the Recovery Room, Jason.“ said Madame Vesta.
„Sedation. And, by the look of her, she’ll have to remain there for two or three days.“
„Very well, Ma’am... and I agree,“ said the Negro, also studying Julia’s lacerated hindquarters.
He entered the Ring, unlocked the iron pillory, and picked up Julia’s slumped figure in his arms. Slowly he carried her out.
„Right, Miss Judith,“ said Madame Vesta with brisk efficiency, „you can take over when she comes out.“
„Very well, Ma’am,“ said Miss Judith with smug satisfaction.
„But I would like reports from time to time.“
„Of course, Ma’am... “
The two leather-clad figures strolled towards the door of the Punishment Room. Obediently, silently, Rebecca continued to pad along behind them.
Two or three days? How, you may ask, could Julia possibly recover in so short a time after such a thrashing?
But, if you ask, you will not be aware of the ways and means of the Recovery Room aboard the `Paradise´.
Lamps with miraculous fast-healing powers, ointments almost equally efficacious, were employed there. They had a capacity to repair the flesh twenty-four times faster than under normal circumstances. Thus one hour under treatment was like a whole day and night. A whole day and night was like twenty-four days!
How merciful, you might say, to heal such ravages so fast. But, of course, it was a kindness to be cruel. The quicker the flesh was back to normal again, the quicker it was ready to feel the bite of rod or lash again.
Needless to say, without such a remarkable, scientific advance in healing methods, it would have been impossible for the regime aboard the Paradise to proceed as it did. No constitution, no flesh could have withstood it.
But the stimulants, the lamps, the ointments, made sure they could withstand it. Thus a shorter time for recovery meant a shorter time without suffering and a prolongation of endurance meant a prolongation of pain. In short, the Recovery Room was a key factor in the disciplinary regime which Madame Vesta had personally initiated.
Senseless, face down, Julia lay upon one of the tables in the Recovery room, her wrists and ankles held by straps at its four corners. Above her, focussed on her hindquarters, the unseen rays of the lamp poured carelessly down.
And as she lay there, Jason’s black hand smoothed some white ointment over the weal-striped flesh. His features displayed little emotion, despite what he could see and fondle at leisure. For this was all very much part of every day duty for him. Scores of naked slave girls lay on those tables every week while he attended to them.
But, of course, as he looked down, he did not deny himself that, if ever the time came, Julia would make a most tasty dish. Would that time come, though?
For not all the slave girls aboard the `Paradise´ were ‘available’. That was a decision for their owners. Some
liked to keep a slave exclusively to themselves for sexual purposes; others stated categorically that the girl could be had by anybody who wanted her.
This distinction was made visibly plain. The former category wore a slim silver chain about the waist, the latter a gold one.
As yet, Julia wore no chain at all.
Miss Kaufman, for example, the chief overseer, was a middle aged woman with iron in her soul - a natural disciplinarian to her very fingertips. Her assistants, such as Miss Judith and Miss Mara, whilst being somewhat more attractive to look upon, were scarcely less efficient in their duties. And sometimes even more enthusiastic.
However, Madame Vesta did make it a practice to inspect all new arrivals aboard the Paradise so that, when news of Julia’s safe arrival was brought to her, she first of all consulted her records. She read as follows:
JULIA CHANT
Aged 22 years
Anglo-American origin
Occupation: Minor modelling career in youth. escort to numerous wealthy men. Enjoyed life as a ‘playgirl’. Became mistress of Quentin Osman. Cheated the latter both sexually and financially.
Characteristics: Tall, good figure, above average in looks.
Figure: 38 - 24 - 38. Long dark hair, blue-green eyes, aristocratic features. Selfish, arrogant, short-tempered.
Madame Vesta smiled faintly as she studied these brief details. They were fairly typical of the young women who were sent to her. She had also learnt at first hand from Quentin something more of Julia’s life style. All in all, she reflected, Julia made excellent material for the regime aboard the Paradise. It would be a pleasure, in due course, to present her to Quentin in a quite remarkably reformed condition. Madame Vesta lifted the house-phone on her desk.
„Ask Miss Judith to come to my quarters as soon as it is convenient,“ she said. Some five minutes later, a tall attractive blonde in her early twenties knocked and entered Madame Vesta’s cabin. She was clad in the customary garb of a female overseer...thigh-length black boots, a brief black leather skirt and tiny bolero jacket to match. Through the belt above her waist was looped a long leathern thong attached to a short
wooden handle.
„Good evening, Ma’am,“ she said respectfully.
„Good evening, Miss Judith,“ came the reply.
„I am sorry to have kept you waiting, Ma’am,“ said the tall blonde, „but I was in the middle of giving Tania an
extra caning.“
„An extra caning?“ Madame Vesta’s voice showed no surprise. It was flat, almost indifferent.
„Yes, Ma’am,“ said Miss Judith, „As you may recall, Tania was on the official Punishment Session this evening... but in my opinion something additional would not come amiss in her case.“
Madame Vesta nodded. „I quite understand, Miss Judith,“ she said. „You have a free hand in such matters. Tania is inclined to be a little rebellious, I believe.“
„I think we can now begin to say was,“ answered Miss Judith with a faint smile.
Madame Vesta nodded again. Her high cheek-boned face remained impassive. She rarely interfered in disciplinary matters - unless she considered them lacking in severity.
„The woman Julia has arrived aboard,“ she said. „Owned by Quentin Osman, the American. You remember him?“
„Indeed, Ma’am,“ replied Miss Judith, „I had heard she was now on board.“
„When Mr. Osman was on the ship,“ continued Madame Vesta, „he made a specific request that you be put in charge of Julia’s training. He seemed to be impressed by your efficiency.“
Madame Vesta’s lips moves slightly in a grim charade of a smile. On the other hand, Miss Judith smiled more openly, showing white tigerish teeth.
„I am pleased to receive such a commendation from a guest,“ she said.
„Well ... „ said Madame Vesta, „I intend to put this woman in your charge. According to Mr. Osman, she is quite a handful.“
Miss Judith smiled her tigerish smile again. „He did mention something of that to me,“ she said.
„However,“ said Madame Vesta. „I am sure that will not present many problems. Life at liberty and life aboard the `Paradise´ are two rather different things. What were difficulties for Mr. Osman, will present no difficulties for us.“
„I agree, Ma’am,“ said Miss Judith. Her pleasure at the assignment she had been given was obvious. There was nothing she liked more than having something of a ‘rebel’ to deal with!
„Lets go below then“ said Madame Vesta, rising from her desk. „We’ll have Jason along. He’s always quite an impressive sight for a newcomer.“
Jason was one of the two giant Negro overseers on board the `Paradise´, both of whom acted as assistants to the female overseers.
Miss Judith went to the house-phone and made the necessary arrangements, then the two women left the cabin and began to descend to the lower depths of the ship. There was a look of smug satisfaction on Miss Judith’s face. It was quite a time since she had been assigned a newcomer. And a so-called ‘rebel’ at that.
Though Julia Chant’s features were a little grimy and her clothes somewhat dishevelled, that scarcely detracted from the loveliness of her features and her figure. It was scarcely surprising she looked as crumpled as she did, having travelled under sedation in a packing case for a considerable number of days - the normal method of shipment of ‘cargo’ despatched to the Paradise.
She stood in the centre of a small, bare cabin, her arms aloft and held by manacles and chains. ‘Stood’ is not
exactly the right word for, being still semi-conscious, she was half erect by the manacles about her wrists rather than by her own volition. Madame Vesta and Miss Judith studied the tall, shapely figure which was now in their possession.
„Mr. Osman certainly has good taste,“ remarked Miss Judith.
„Indeed,“ replied Madame Vesta perfunctorily. She switched on an overhead spotlight so that Julia was more strongly illuminated.
„All the same,“ she added, „he does not like being two-timed.“
„Naturally,“ said Miss Judith. „Well, she’ll soon learn that now. Shall I give her an injection?“
„Please do.“ answered Madame Vesta.
Miss Judith advanced with the hypodermic she had brought with her and plunged the needle into the side of Julia Chant’s neck. It was the first of the daily injections Julia would be receiving from that moment on. They were a special stimulant which prolonged powers of endurance remarkably.
Also they ensured that a far greater physical effort than normal was possible. Without the stimulant a girl would have fainted long before through pain, shock or fatigue... so it was a most valuable asset in the regime of the Paradise.
Valuable... but scarcely welcome by those who receive it!
Julia’s large, wide-set eyes opened a few moments after the needle had been removed from her neck. They had a liquid luminosity about them - but a bewildered blankness too.
„W-What has happened... to me?“ she asked in a hoarse whisper. „Have ... have I had an accident?“
„No,“ said Madame Vesta with a sardonic smile. „Your presence here is by design.“
Julia’s eyes took on a deeper bewilderment. She looked up, seeing the chains and manacles that held her.
„M-My... wrists are hurting,“ she said weakly. „Please take these... these things off and let my arms down. They ache awfully. Is... is this some sort of hospital? Please tell me what has happened. I remember I was in that taxi... then I got drowsy...“
No reply came. Madame Vesta was waiting for the stimulant to get a stronger hold.
„Who are you?“ asked Julia plaintively. „Where am I?“
„All in good time,“ said Miss Judith.
„Let me out of these things. It’s hurting, I tell you. What the Hell’s going on?“ There was a flash of anger both in Julia’s voice and her eyes. She was beginning to come to life properly again. „Don’t just stand there... do something, whoever your are,“ she snapped.
Again no answer was forthcoming.
„Do you hear me?“ Julia almost yelled. „I’m called Julia Chant... and I don’t know what game you’re playing... but you’ll certainly pay for it!“
Madame Vesta stepped forward casually. Then she gave Julia’s face two stinging slaps. Extremely hard slaps, across right and left cheeks.
„Lets get your head a little clearer, my girl,“ she said.
Julia’s mouth gaped in shock... then a stream of vituperation came from it. One could scarcely call it the kind
of language one would have expected to hear from a young woman of her background.
Madame Vesta slapped Julia’s face again. This time she got two resounding slaps on each cheek and her head jerked from side to side as if she were a rag doll being shaken. Momentarily she was stunned into silence. Then a further stream of vituperation came from her... culminating with threats of what she would do as soon as she got her hands free.
„This is assault!“ she screeched. „I... I... I’ll see you go inside for this... oh my God... I’ll kill you for this!“
Miss Judith smiled delightedly. It seemed that this Julia had as much spirit as she had hoped.
„Now listen to me... „ said Madame Vesta, gripping Julia by a hank of rich, glossy black hair.
„I won’t... I won’t... let me go!“ cried Julia, now distraught. The fury blazed from those glinting blue-green
eyes.
Unhurriedly, methodically, Madame Vesta smacked Julia’s face again. This time four smashing slaps fell on each cheek and, head reeling and ringing, Julia slumped in her chains.
„Oh... oh you b-b**st... how c-can you... „ she sobbed.
Madame Vesta took hold of the girl’s hair again.
„I told you to listen to me,“ she said calmly. „Are you going to or not? I don’t mind slapping your pretty face all night if need be.“
For perhaps the first time a flicker of fear passed over Julia’s face. She realised that something quite unpredictable... quite ghastly... had happened to her. She must have been k**napped by these horrible women. She was being held to ransom. Well, thank God Quentin was well-heeled. He’d pay whatever asked, the stupid bastard. No... she mustn’t think of him like that not any more. Suddenly he had become her lifeline.
Julia swallowed, trying to get a grip on herself. Her ears were still ringing and her cheeks felt aflame. I must
keep calm, she told herself.
„I... I’ll listen,“ she managed to say, with all the meekness she could muster.
„The first thing to get into your skull, girl,“ said Madame Vesta, maintaining a grip on Julia’s hair, „is that your life is no longer your own. You are now a captive slave-girl, owned by Quentin Osman... and here, on board my ship, for training. For training to his requirements and satisfaction.“
Julia’s mouth sagged. Her face, scarcely surprising, looked uncomprehending.
„What are you talking about?“ she said. „You must be mad. A slave? Of Quentin? Oh... don’t be ridiculous...“
Remorselessly, Madame Vesta slapped Julia’s face left and right again. Four more slaps on each cheek... until Julia was crying out half hysterically.
„S-Stop... oh... stop it... stop!“
„If you ever call me mad again,“ said Madame Vesta menacingly, „I’ll have you whipped until the blood runs.“
Julia froze, then shuddered violently. A clarion of bells were reeling through her head. What was this nightmare?
„Whipped?“ she croaked, between sobs, „what... what... oh no... you must be...“ Her voice dried up. Just in
time she had checked herself. She must humour these imbeciles. She must be careful. Her life was in
danger. How it had all happened... even exactly what had happened... and an inexplicable mystery. If she kept her head, all might still be well.
„Yes... whipped.“ said Madame Vesta icily. „And now I will repeat what I said... and you will remain silent,
girl.“
Julia bridled at the contemptuous form of address but, biting her lips, managed to remain silent. She did not want to invite any more of those murderous slaps from this madwoman. Coldly Madame Vesta repeated the facts of Julia’s new situation. That she was now a slave. Sent there by Quentin. That she was but one of many such. That, in due time, Quentin would arrive and see her as a reformed character. As his slave.
At this point Julia’s patience snapped.
„His slave,“ she almost snarled. „That fat slob!“
The relentless face-slapping was resumed, until Julia was in a state of near delirium.
„When Mr. Osman arrives, in a month or two’s time,“ said Madame Vesta above Julia’s retching sobs. „You will be happy to go on your knees and beg to be allowed to have the honour of kissing the arse of that fat slob - as you so arrogantly call him.“
„No... oh no... „ moaned Julia. „It... it... mmmfff... c-can’t be true... it can’t be real... this... this must be a nightmare. Oh please let me wake up... p-please... let me go...“
„Give her another injection, please Miss Judith,“ said Madame Vesta. „It won’t do any harm at this stage.“
Miss Judith was quick to comply, with Julia desperately trying to cringe away from the needle.
„You may be interested to know that I am going to be in charge of your training, Julia.“ said Miss Judith as she jabbed. „Mr Osman requested it... and I think I’m going to rather enjoy it.“
„Osman... Osman has been here?“ croaked Julia. „I can’t believe it... I can’t understand it... it... it... it’s all s-so... impossible...“
„Of course,“ responded Madame Vesta, „it is always a little difficult for any girl to comprehend at first. Such
words, such statements are difficult to take in. A practical demonstration of the facts is, however, more convincing.“ She turned to Miss Judith. „You gave Jason his instructions?“
„Yes, Ma’am,“ answered the blonde overseer. „He is bringing Rebecca with him.“
Julia, eyes wide, was looking disbelievingly from one woman to the other. Every moment her predicament was seeming to get even more frightful than it had seemed at the outset.
„Ah yes... Rebecca,“ said Madame Vesta. She turned back to Julia. „Rebecca is the slave of a friend of Mr. Osman’s. A certain Otto Gerber. She has been here for some time now... and learnt to behave herself.“
There was knock on the cabin door.
„Come in,“ called Madame Vesta.
The door opened and Jason, one of the two massive Negro assistants aboard, entered. As usual he was naked, but for a brief white triangle of cloth about his loins. The triangle bulged prodigiously; the Negroes body glistened with oil under the harsh light. A choking sound came from Julia... and then a disbelieving, wailing cry.
For behind Jason came Rebecca, a voluptuous red-head, slave of Otto Gerber. She was naked and crawling meekly on all fours, led by a collar and lead.
„Mr Gerber,“ said Madame Vesta complacently, „likes Rebecca to be exercised a couple of times a day. Jason usually takes her on a little tour. This seemed an appropriate stopping point this evening.“
Mouth agape, Julia’s face quivered with incredulity. Her eyes were starting from her head.
„No... oh... no... oh... no... no“ she whimpered as she gazed on the crouching figure.
„Kiss your Master’s feet, slave,“ said Madame Vesta peremptorily.
Without hesitation, Rebecca’s mouth pressed to the black flesh.
„No... oh... no... no... „ Julia continued to whimper. This is a nightmare, she told herself. I must wake up
soon!
„Show your bottom to this girl,“ said Madame Vesta.
Again without hesitation, Rebecca moved so that her voluptuous hindquarters were directly towards Julia. A dozen freshly-raised twin-track cane weals encircled the lush white flesh.
„NO!“ Julia almost shrieked.
„Before Rebecca was brought here,“ said Madame Vesta, quite unmoved by Julia’s reaction, „she was caned. Caned by Jason here. One of my assistants. Not, I may say, for any fault on this occasion, but merely to demonstrate to you, my girl, that any slave aboard this ship can be thrashed at any time... Julia for any reason or none. Simply at my command. And you... Julia... you are now such a slave!“
Julia’s eyes dilated in horror.
„No... no... NO... OOO!“ she cried. „I can’t believe it... I won’t... I won’t believe it... it... it’s impossible! It’s hideous... it... it’s disgusting... ooohhh... that poor woman... ohhh... you will pay for this vile monstrosity!“
Madame Vesta’s face remained impassive. She was all too familiar with such outbursts from newcomers. It was something, to one degree or another, that they all went through.
Just part of the process.
Disbelief... desperation... they were all quite natural. After a few weeks there was a fatalist acceptance.
Then they truly knew they were slaves.
„Up!“ ordered Madame Vesta.
Jason gave a tug on the lead and Rebecca sprang to her feet, setting her fulsome white breasts bouncing. Her flesh was velvety, creamy white. Her features were sharp, her nose long; the red hair fell to her smooth shoulders. In her hazel coloured eyes was that familiar look of despair acquired by a trained slave. Her body hair had been shaved. That was an order of her owner, Otto Gerber. Round her waist was a slim silver chain.
„Put her on a hook!“ ordered Madame Vesta. The Negro assistant led Rebecca to the wall and fastened
the leash to one of the strong hooks projecting.
„Are you beginning to believe me, girl?“ asked Madame Vesta.
„No... no... it can’t be true... „ was all Julia could whimper. Yet her eyes were fastened with a hideous fascination on Rebecca’s docile nakedness as she stood submissively leashed to the hook.
„Well then“ said Madame Vesta calmly, „we shall have to continue to make you believe that you are now a slave. It does take rather longer with some than others.“ She turned to the black giant.
„Jason,“ she ordered, „strip this creature naked. Let’s look at the wares which she prizes so highly.“
Jason stepped forward slowly. His strong teeth showed suddenly and startling white. A mixture of amusement and lust. He too enjoyed a newcomer.
„NO... OOOO!“ cried Julia, her voice almost screeching. She recoiled back as far as the manacles and chains would allow. She had a natural aversion to coloured people anyway.
Casually Jason hooked his finger into the top of her dishevelled dress.
„NO... NO... OOOOO!“ cried Julia again.
In one easy movement Jason’s finger opened her dress from neck to hem, to reveal a brief bra and panty set of rose-pink net. The firm fulsomeness of her figure was even better revealed.
„You... you b**st... you filthy b-b**st... stop it... stop it...“ screamed Julia, twisting violently this way and
that. „How dare you... I’ll kill you... I’ll kill you!“
Unhurriedly Jason hooked his finger into Julia’s flimsy brassiere and ripped that away too. Her white, strongnippled breasts came thrusting out, swinging wildly with her attempts at evasion. Madame Vesta regarded them stonily, but there was a hint of appreciation in Miss Judith’s eyes.
Yes... Mr. Osman certainly had good taste. Julia was one of the better developed arrivals for some time.
„You... you devils... you... you swine... oh God... you’ll pay for this... „ Julia’s eyes were blazing fierily; her mouth was a quivering gape of shocked horror.
Jason’s finger went to the sole remaining brief garment, pulling teasingly on the elastic of the panties. As he well knew, this would be the last time Julia had any covering of that nature, unless her master decreed.
„NO... YOU CAN’T... YOU CAN’T!“ came the wailing cry.
In her desperation, Julia jerked her head forward and her teeth snapped at Jason’s biceps like a cat trying to catch a fly. Accustomed to such tactics, he avoided her easily... and ripped the panties away.
Julia swung there, now completely naked in her chains, her features a contorted frenzy of hate and fury.
„Monsters... aaaggghhh... you monsters!“ she screeched hoarsely.
Madame Vesta remained impassive Miss Judith smiled benignly being very pleased with her charge’s display of spirit The body revealed could scarcely be faulted. It was full and lush yet superbly proportioned. Upthrusting breasts, smooth curving belly, swelling hips, long thighs.
„Slaves do not try to bite,“ said Madame Vesta, giving Jason a nod.
Jason moved around behind the still twisting Julia. He was no novice at this sort of initiation. He surveyed the
curvaceous quivering white bottom with considerable satisfaction... and then he slapped it hard. He slapped it hard again and again, with Julia yelping loudly with pain and shock. The slaps on her face had been
horrifying enough... but to have this black brute smacking her bottom was a humiliation beyond anything she had imagined possible.
Jason’s hard black palm fell first on one cheek then another... and Julia squirmed ever more frenziedly. Both
with the pain of the slaps and in an attempt to avoid them.
„D-Devils... aahh... oww... you d-devils... I’ll kill you for this... b**sts... b**stS... BEEE... b**stS!“ she
screeched.
Indeed, within half a minute or so, she became almost incoherent in her verbal frenzy. That anything so vile could ever happen to her had never remotely crossed her remind before. There she was stripped naked. Having her bare bottom slapped by a brutal black man! Unbelievable! Unbelievable... and unbearable! IMPOSSIBLE!
Yet... yet... it was happening!
Julia thought she would gladly have died in those moments. Anything... anything... was better than what was happening to her. Oh... oohh... the hideous horror of it! The whole world... everything... had gone mad... mad... mad!
„STOP IT... SSSTOO... OOOOPPPP... IT... STTT... OOOPPPPPP!“ she shrieked.
Grinning complacently, Jason continued to slap the wildly squirming buttocks until he received another nod from Madame Vesta. Breasts heaving, choking with sobs, Julia hung and swung in her manacles and chains. Her eyes rolled back in her head, saliva dribbled from the corners of her mouth. How... how OH HOW... could this be happening to HER!
„Are practical demonstrations beginning to impress you more than words, girl?“ enquired Madame Vesta when Julia seemed to be gaining some little control of her seething emotions.
Julia’s eyes blazed like hot coals at the black-clad figure who stood before her.
„She-devil!“ she screeched. „Devil... devil... she devil... I... I’ll... rip you to pieces for... this... ahhhh... ohhh... my God... I’ll follow you to Hell... to m-make you p-pay...“ Julia burst into a torrent of sobs and her head slumped. She swung in her chains, temporarily mentally an emotionally drained.
„Quite the tigress,“ remarked Miss Judith with her self-satisfied smile.
„Oh yes... quite,“ nodded Madame Vesta. „But we were led to expect that. But I think the time has come to start taming the tigress properly. We can now, I think you will agree, dispense with these fun and games.“
„I agree entirely,“ said Miss Judith.
Madame Vesta signed to Jason.
„Put on a collar and chain,“ she ordered, „and then released her from the manacles.“
Jason fastened a broad leather collar about Julia’s white neck, then attached a slim length of chain to a small ring at the front.
„S-Stop it... oooh... stop ooo you can’t do this... „ choked Julia. Wild with fury as she was, there was now an edge of panic in her voice. She was beginning to realise she was deeply into something more frightful than
she had first dared to contemplate. Her face still burnt and her ears still rang from Madame Vesta’s slaps; the cheeks of her bottom still stung from the negro’s slaps.
Yes... the negro’s slaps! How could she... SHE... have had her bottom smacked by a negro! It was all so utterly... incredibly... impossible!
Meanwhile, Miss Judith had unleashed Rebecca from the hook on the wall.
„Down,“ she said.
Immediately the red-head went to all fours, curvaceous bottom thrusting high. There she waited in abject resignation. The manacles about Julia’s hand went to the chain. With all her might she strained back, trying to resist Jason’s pull.
„NO... NO... OOO... ooohh... what are you doing?“ she shrieked.
„Down you go ... like Rebecca,“ said Jason, giving Julia’s buttocks another full-blooded slap.
„Yee... oowww... no... no... stop it... stop... oh stop it!“
„Disobedience,“ said Jason, giving Julia’s bottom yet another sweeping slap.
„NO... NO... OOO!“ screamed Julia, now quite distraught.
„Don’t bother with it,“ intervened Madame Vesta. „She’ll be doing as she’s told soon enough. Just bring her along Jason.“
„Very well, Ma’am,“ nodded the overseer. Then he picked up Julia in his muscular arms, pulling her back on the collar and chain so that she had no chance to bite at him. He marched to the door with Julia kicking and
threshing wildly.
„NO... NO... NO... OOO!“ the screams continued.
It need hardly be said that Jason was not unappreciative of the touch of the lush womanly body struggling against him. Struggling so uselessly. He could handle Julia as easily as if she were a five-year old c***d. Nor need it hardly be said with what horror and revulsion that Julia found herself clamped helplessly against the muscular black nakedness.
She wanted to murder the brute... she wanted to die! But why... oh why... at least, did she not faint with the
appalling horror of it? It was not possible for a woman like her to endure such things! But then, of course, Julia knew nothing, at that moment, of the relentless power of the stimulants which flowed through her veins. Normally, she would have fainted. But no longer. She had been endowedwith powers beyond her own wishes.
The little convoy moved along the passageways of the Paradise. Jason with the struggling shrieking Julia in front, Madame Vesta in the middle, Rebecca docily trotting along at the end, led by Miss Judith.
Up a companionway, along another passage, and the dread, black double doors appeared ahead. Above them in Gothic lettering, the words ‘PUNISHMENT ROOM’ stood out in bold relief. How many slaves aboard the Paradise had approached those doors with indescribable dread! How many more in time to come - including Julia... would do so equally!
In they went... into the largest cabin-chamber of all on the Paradise. There was the dais with its chairs, from which Madame Vesta or Miss Kaufman made their irrevocable pronouncements... there was the Whipping Post, the Whipping block, the Horse, and the wide variety of intricate contrivances up which ‘recalcitrants’ could be helplessly secured in every conceivable kind of posture. There were the chains, the manacles, the leg irons... the vast array of corrective instruments... all waiting ready. A familiar enough sight to those accustomed to make to make use of it; a veritable Chamber of Horrors to those who had to suffer in it.
As it happened, the Punishment Room was not empty. There was, one might say, some remains of corrective discipline meted out earlier in the evening. At the appointed hour for such things. It consisted of a naked slave girl still tightly secured over a kind of wood and leather Hurdle. Her wrists were shackled to her ankles; her fingertips and toes were an inch or so from the floor. Thus she took the weight of herself on her belly and flanks, her hindquarters upthrust in a curve. These hindquarters were stripped from the top of her buttocks to halfway down her thighs... for, earlier that evening, she had been flogged with a threethonged
martinet. Painful enough indeed but, with calculated cruelty, her pain had been prolonged and even intensified.
For over the thrusting buttocks and down the thighs had been placed a thin sheet of gauze. Still wet, closely
impregnated with salt crystals, it clung like a second skin, so thin that the weals showed clearly through. The added agony that the stinging-biting salt induced was very evident... for the tormented flesh never ceased to twitch and quiver, and the groaning sobs were continuous.
Madame Vesta, now leading the little convoy, passed the figure with utter indifference. A punishment had been decreed: a punishment had been administered; a punishment was being endured. That was all there was to it.
They came to a halt in the very centre of the Punishment Room. Julia still clamped in Jason’s arms, had ceased struggling. Probably through temporary exhaustion. Eyes wide, she simply whimpered like a wounded, cornered a****l.
„Put her on the ring, Jason,“ ordered Madame Vesta.
The Ring designated was right before them. It was a simple enough affair... and was indeed a ring of iron some seven or eight feet across, raised three feet of the floor. In the centre of the Ring, set in the floor, was a pinioning device on a small iron turn-table. In effect, the device was a small pillory into which the victim’s head and wrists could be locked, the rest of her body then being d****d over the raised iron rim of the Ring. Thus it will be understood that, whilst being held completely helpless, the victim would have complete freedom of movement... in a circular direction only. Round and around the rim of the Ring, in fact, with her hindquarters raised up in a convenient curve.
In panic, Julia came actively to life again when Jason began to fix her neck and wrists into the iron pillory.
Understandably enough, for it was a daunting moment, even for the most hardened who ever had to visit that dread Room.
Jason’s task took less than a minute to complete. There came the click of the key in the padlock which held the pillory crushingly tight.
„Excellent,“ commented Madame Vesta, surveying Julia’s nakedness, so invitingly and so helplessly presented.
„Indeed... „ smiled Miss Judith in agreement. Though she was well aware that it was Madame Vesta’s prerogative to make the first vivid impressions on this newcomer, it would not be long before her turn came. In fact, her pleasures would be of a more prolonged and satisfying nature.
„Now, you arrogant harlot,“ said Madame Vesta in a voice of steel, ‘you are going to be made to understand that every word I have said it true... “
„Oh... l-let me... go... oh God... I’m choking... oooh... let me go... oooh... what are you g-going to do?“ croaked Julia.
„Do?“ Madame Vesta smiled faintly. „I, Julia, am going to give you a thrashing that you will remember for the rest of your life...“
„NO... Y-YOU C-CAN’T!“
„... and while you are getting it, my girl, I want you to think of one thing in particular. Whether you are capable of coherent thought, that is...“
„NO... OO... LET ME G-GO... LET ME G-GO!“
„... and that is, I say, that Quentin Osman has arranged it all... and that it is he whose slave you now are...“
„NO... OOO... NO... OOOOOO!“
Julia’s choking cries and protests continued as Madame Vesta walked across to a rack where an astonishing variety of instruments hung in readiness. She did not take long in making her choice. She nearly always used the same instrument at these ‘initiations’.
The instrument she took down had a smooth ebony handle. From this extended some four feet of tightly plaited leather.
It could only extend as straight as it did, not drooping as a whip would, because the leather was plaited round a thin core of whalebone. At the handle end, this instrument was about the thickness of an index finer... and it tapered to its tip where it had no more than the thickness of a knitting needle.
Not the deadliest of instruments used aboard the `Paradise´, but quite, quite deadly enough for a newcomer!
Moreover, it has to be said that the sting of this particular instrument was literally in its tail. That is to say, at the tip... where it would bite most viciously of all. For the last six inches of this switch were not plaited
with leather. The white whalebone was exposed and, inset into it at half-inch intervals were a dozen zircons... tiny, diamond-hard pellets.
Madame Vesta ran the switch lovingly through her fingers, then flexed it with relish. It was always the greatest pleasure for her to ‘initiate’ a newcomer. It was almost the only time she took any truly active part in matters of discipline.
Complacently - yet with inner sadistic delight - she gazed upon Julia’s voluptuous hindquarters, unmarked but for the blotches left by Jason’s slaps. Never, she thought, will this woman be the same again. Her slavery is beginning in earnest!
Expertly, methodically, and without haste, Madame Vesta whiplashed the switch across Julia’s buttocks.
The effect of each full-blooded cut was, to say the least, remarkable. The sounds Julia made were well-nigh indescribable... and can perhaps be best compared to the sound of a pig in a slaughter-house. And the contortions which her shapely hindquarters performed had to be seen to be believed.
Sometimes the strokes came from Julia’s right, sometimes from her left. Sometimes there was ten seconds or so between each stroke, sometimes as much as half a minute. For, naturally enough, in her frenzy of pain, Julia swivelled wildly around and around the Ring. Partly because of the intensity of the pain and partly in a vain attempt to evade the next stroke to come. Never for one single second did her bottom cease to squirm with uncontrollable v******e. With a frantic kind of frenzy. The nates clenching and unclenching incessantly.
But no matter how much Julia swirled and twisted around the Ring, Madame Vesta was always ready for her. Ready to strike in her own time; at the most appropriate moment.
There were times when Julia’s thighs were splayed wide in her agony... and then the switch would bite into the soft inner flesh of them. Perhaps once, perhaps twice. Then Madame Vesta would return her attentions to the lushness of the madly juddering buttock-flesh.
The cacophony of hideous-shrieking sound became even louder. Impassively watching, Jason stood with folded arms. Alongside him was Miss Judith, eyes bright with sadistic pleasure. It was great to see a woman getting her first thrashing. It was one, she knew, whatever happened later, they never, never forgot. And Madame Vesta was pulling out all the stops on this occasions, no doubt sensing that Julia had more pride and arrogance in her than most... apart from above average looks and figure.
Alongside Miss Judith still crouched the compliant figure of Rebecca. Her head was bowed, so she could not see Julia on the Ring. But she could hear her. It recalled to her that first dread time she had been there and, involuntarily, her own nates twitched and contracted from time to time. The agonising bite of the zircons at the end of that whiplashing switch was something never to be forgotten!
But could one say that Rebecca felt pity, or even sympathy, for Julia? Scarcely so. For, after one had been aboard the `Paradise´ for a few days one could only have room for pity for ones self. That drained up all the supply of that emotion. Indeed, sometimes it was a kind of relief to see or hear another being punished... saying to oneself that, this time at least, it is not me!
„MERC... EEE... AAAAIIIEEE... MERC... EEE!“ The agonised, high-pitched pleas could not be heard between the screams.
Face set, unmoved, Madame Vesta laid yet another stroke fully across the centre of Julia’s juddering bottom when it conveniently presented itself as she threshed around the Ring.
Again...
This time across the tips of the thighs.
Again...
Back to the buttocks again, the zircons biting into the flank.
Again...
This time on the inner part of a thigh, for the thighs were splayed.
Again...
Back to the writhing, up-thrust nates.
„YYYAAAIIIEEEE! AAAHH... M-M-MERC... EEEEEEE!“
But there was no mercy. The thrashing continued remorselessly. Until despite the double dose of stimulant she had received, Julia’s flesh, blood and spirit could endure no more.
A merciful oblivion descended upon her as her head slumped down, senseless at last... having known pain far beyond all normal endurance.
The sudden silence in the Room seemed almost strange. The ears of all were still ringing with the shrieking sounds which had just ceased. Seemingly quite unruffled, Madame Vesta replaced the deadly switch back in the rack.
Then she surveyed the havoc she had wrought... the stilltwitching flesh of buttocks and thighs criss-crossed in a multiplicity of red and purpling weals. A thorough ‘initiation’ indeed. Madame Vesta’s head nodded slightly as if in congratulation of herself. Yes... for sure, Julia would never forget what had just been done to her.
„Take her to the Recovery Room, Jason.“ said Madame Vesta.
„Sedation. And, by the look of her, she’ll have to remain there for two or three days.“
„Very well, Ma’am... and I agree,“ said the Negro, also studying Julia’s lacerated hindquarters.
He entered the Ring, unlocked the iron pillory, and picked up Julia’s slumped figure in his arms. Slowly he carried her out.
„Right, Miss Judith,“ said Madame Vesta with brisk efficiency, „you can take over when she comes out.“
„Very well, Ma’am,“ said Miss Judith with smug satisfaction.
„But I would like reports from time to time.“
„Of course, Ma’am... “
The two leather-clad figures strolled towards the door of the Punishment Room. Obediently, silently, Rebecca continued to pad along behind them.
Two or three days? How, you may ask, could Julia possibly recover in so short a time after such a thrashing?
But, if you ask, you will not be aware of the ways and means of the Recovery Room aboard the `Paradise´.
Lamps with miraculous fast-healing powers, ointments almost equally efficacious, were employed there. They had a capacity to repair the flesh twenty-four times faster than under normal circumstances. Thus one hour under treatment was like a whole day and night. A whole day and night was like twenty-four days!
How merciful, you might say, to heal such ravages so fast. But, of course, it was a kindness to be cruel. The quicker the flesh was back to normal again, the quicker it was ready to feel the bite of rod or lash again.
Needless to say, without such a remarkable, scientific advance in healing methods, it would have been impossible for the regime aboard the Paradise to proceed as it did. No constitution, no flesh could have withstood it.
But the stimulants, the lamps, the ointments, made sure they could withstand it. Thus a shorter time for recovery meant a shorter time without suffering and a prolongation of endurance meant a prolongation of pain. In short, the Recovery Room was a key factor in the disciplinary regime which Madame Vesta had personally initiated.
Senseless, face down, Julia lay upon one of the tables in the Recovery room, her wrists and ankles held by straps at its four corners. Above her, focussed on her hindquarters, the unseen rays of the lamp poured carelessly down.
And as she lay there, Jason’s black hand smoothed some white ointment over the weal-striped flesh. His features displayed little emotion, despite what he could see and fondle at leisure. For this was all very much part of every day duty for him. Scores of naked slave girls lay on those tables every week while he attended to them.
But, of course, as he looked down, he did not deny himself that, if ever the time came, Julia would make a most tasty dish. Would that time come, though?
For not all the slave girls aboard the `Paradise´ were ‘available’. That was a decision for their owners. Some
liked to keep a slave exclusively to themselves for sexual purposes; others stated categorically that the girl could be had by anybody who wanted her.
This distinction was made visibly plain. The former category wore a slim silver chain about the waist, the latter a gold one.
As yet, Julia wore no chain at all.
Nadene
- 13.07.2022
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