The Finishing School free porn video

THE FINISHING SCHOOL Although you wouldn't believe it now, I used to be an ordinary man in, well, not exactly ordinary job, I was the chief designer for a small aircraft manufacturer making niche planes for the bored, but rich executive. My work was demanding, but well paid, so when I married my wife, Jessica, I suggested that she needn't carry on working in the women's wear shop that she joined after leaving school. Not bad for a couple in their mid to late twenties. We owned our own home, a modest three bedroom suburban semi-detached, with no mortgage, thanks to my salary and an inheritance from my parents. We had only been married a month when my Mother died of a stroke and my Father followed her within three months. I always will know that he died of a broken heart, as he idolised Mother, just in the way they each loved my wife. I remember their happiness on our wedding day, "You are marrying the sweetest, kindest girl in the world," my Mother told me. I thought so too at the time. One Thursday, after about a year of her being my attentive housewife, Jessie greeted me home with some news. "Oh, Andrew, I'm so excited, I nearly called you at work." She was practically bouncing up and down. "I had a registered letter arrive this morning, from solicitors in South Wales, my aunt, Lady Harvent, has died, and I'm a beneficiary under the will. I don't think she was rich, but there must be something because they've ask me to go to their office." "I didn't know you were related to the nobility?" I queried with her. "No, Andrew, not really. It's the last knockings of the line, I think her father was the Lord and I'm only related by blood to her Mother. My Father was Aunt Steph's half brother, so my link to the aristocracy is tenuous at best." "I wonder what you will get?" I pondered while pouring us both a drink. "Perhaps we should make this a toast to your Aunt." "I've rung the lawyers and they have agreed to see us on Saturday, if we can get down there. I know you're busy at work, but you don't have to work this weekend, do you?" Jessie knew that we were in the last stages of bringing out a new aircraft, and although it was already built and being tested, I had to be there for checking its performance against design parameters, in case a little 'tweaking' was needed. Little work was carried out at weekends so it was agreed that I would try to get off slightly earlier the next day, so we could drive down and stay overnight. As we prepared the evening meal together, I pointed out that there was no way I could stay longer than Sunday as I would be involved with work pretty heavily until the end of the month, three weeks away. After that I would have a considerable amount of leave due, as the project had been my baby for over three years in development, and I hadn't taken most of the holiday that was due to me all that time. The next day we were on the road by four o'clock making the tiring drive from our home city of Bristol to Milford Haven, the almost other side of Wales. The journey was not made any more pleasant by the autumn weather, torrential rain being blown by a high wind. It took over three hours, by the time we stopped for coffees, but we found the hotel Jessie had booked without much problem. I saw that she could hardly eat her meal, she was that impatient to find out what she was going to inherit. At ten promptly the next morning we were shown in to the office of her Aunt's solicitor, a Mr. Conliff, an elderly man, who seemed to my wife to take an exorbitant amount of time to find the file, open it, then find the right page to read from. "Lady Harvent's estate is a quite unusual one, Mrs Collins." Was he deliberately speaking as slow as possible? "It largely consist of Skeggy Island, which is situated about ten miles off the coast, out beyond Skomer and Skokholm Islands, and on which is the family seat of the Harvents. There were considerable liquid funds, but a large proportion of them will have to be paid in death duties. I have provisionally agreed figures with the Revenue, and the residual sum will amount to approximately six hundred thousand pounds." At this point we both nearly fell off our chairs. "But I didn't even know my Aunt," a very shaken Jessie told the lawyer, "I wasn't told that she had died, and the last time I saw her was when I was about ten years old." "I'm sorry about that, Mrs. Collins, but she was quite specific naming you, although I don't know of any other relative." "What is on the island?" I asked, I was having slightly less of a problem making my mind work than my now wealthy wife. "Ah, well I was going to come to that, I take it that you've never been there?" He asked. "I didn't even know it existed," she replied, "I thought she lived in a fairly modest house on the outskirts of the town here, although I can remember being told that it had extensive grounds." "Oh, that is her little bungalow, Mrs. Collins, she keeps her helicopter there when she is on the mainland and sometimes overnights there when the weather doesn't permit flying. Helicopter is the only practical way of getting on or off the island, speaking of which, the ancestral home there is quite large and I believe it has been extended during your Aunt's occupation. It's called Castle Harvent, by the way." We were going from amazed to downright staggered. "Just how much is this estate worth?" I had to ask. "We have provisionally agreed a value of all her assets, with the Revenue, to a total of a round figure of about eighteen million pounds, of which a little over five million is to be paid in estate duty. We managed to get a reduction, in light of the school, which offers scholarships to many of its pupils." "School?" My wife was starting to act shell shocked, staring at the old man and with a rather white face. I must admit that the whole thing was taking on a surreal aspect. "Yes, Mrs. Collins, I am given to understand that it is a Finishing School for Young Ladies, although I confess that I have never actually been there to see it. Of course I imagine that you will wish to sell that part of the estate if you don't want to carry it on. However, I have met the Head Teacher, a Ms. Irene Black, during the course of probate, and she has assured me that it is profitable, so if you did wish to have it continue running, the staff are all willing to remain, subject to your approval, of course." "I think that I had better see this Island for myself." My wife was only now starting to assemble her thoughts. "That was anticipated and a flight has been re-arranged for tomorrow, it would have been today, but I'm afraid the high wind makes that impossible. I hope that is all to your satisfaction, Mrs. Collins, and if so I have a number of papers for you to sign." We were in his office for another hour or so and when all the formalities were completed Jessie was the proud possessor of two key rings, one with a fairly normal five keys, the other with so many that I lost count. The smaller bunch of keys opened the bungalow which we went straight over to examine. It was a pleasant pebble dashed building, built during the inter-war years, about nineteen thirty. It struck me as quite ordinary, if it hadn't been set in the centre of about ten acres of grounds, have a large white 'H' set in a circle, and a wind sock, all about three hundred yards from the back door. In spite of the rain, it was warm and cosy, so we de-camped from the hotel, deciding to sleep here to be ready for tomorrow's helicopter trip. We parked the car in one of a number of outbuildings, which, as far as I could see, were all empty. I was worried about getting back to work the next day, so when we were advised, by the land line phone in the bungalow, that the flight was delayed until mid-afternoon, we decided that Jessie would go alone to view her estate, and I would return to Bristol. When the helicopter did arrive, it turned out to be one big enough for six or eight passengers, plus pilot and co pilot. A Ms. Jane Green, introduced herself to my wife as not only the pilot, but the School's Department Head in charge of Deportment and Presentation. I was a little miffed at her attitude, only speaking to Jessie, and ignoring me, but I put it down to perhaps nerves, meeting the new boss for the first time. I was more pleased with her flying skills on landing and take off, in spite of still being hit by the occasional gust of wind I felt she was someone I could trust my wife to. I waved goodbye and headed back home. I got a certain amount of ribbing when I got back to my office and told them about my wife's bizarre inheritance, but it was limited by a rush redesign of a couple of instrument placements for the new aircraft. I only had two phone calls from my wife in the twenty days we were apart, and although I tried to call her back a couple of times, I was told that she was in another part of the estate so was unavailable. However, true to my word, on the twenty seventh of the month I was done with the work, the project was now in the hands of our sales team, and I could arrange to reunite with Jessie on the island. I had taken a little time to search for the Harvent family on the internet, but I learned very little that I didn't already know. The only exception was about the castle itself. It would seem to be built on from the original, which was started early in the twelfth century. The island was limestone and the sea caves in the base were used as a store by smugglers in the fifteenth to eighteenth centuries. The castle itself was thought to be impregnable to attack. During the course of the phone conversations I had with her, the first one expressed some vagueness as to what they actually taught at the school. The second time we spoke, she had decided that we could keep the school going and I should book at least the six weeks holiday I was due, in order to help her get her feet under the table, so to speak. She did point out that the reason she couldn't phone me often was that there was only the single radio linked telephone on the island and it wasn't always possible to make a connection. Of course it was too far out to pick up a signal with a cell phone. I tried to make conversation with her the second call, and asked her what exactly did they teach there and who were the customers. It seemed that very rich families paid well to send pupils there to be trained to deal with all the problems in their lives, but that the discipline was very strict. That didn't really tell me a lot, but no doubt, as Jessie said, I would find out when I got there. Because of the uncertainty caused by the death of the owner, they had run down the pupils, so there were none actually there at the moment Now Jessie had decided to keep the school open, recruitment of pupils had been resumed, but the first intake after the break would be small, so only five would be coming over with me on the next helicopter flight. Five young ladies didn't seem a lot to me, but if they came from rich backgrounds perhaps the margin of profit was high. As arranged, when I arrived, I phoned to confirm and was told that the flight would be landing in a few minutes, but that I was to wait in the bungalow with my luggage. There was a lot of this, as I also packed a case full of things I thought Jessie might need. When the transport landed, a different woman came to meet me, escort me to my seat and strap me in. She told me to leave my luggage as it would be loaded by her colleague when she arrived with the rest of the passengers and it wasn't long before a minibus with blacked out windows arrived with five men and one woman. That was the first surprise, five men. Then it occurred to me that in this day of sex equality, they had to admit men on the same footing. It soon became apparent that not only was the woman in charge, but the men, who were blinking as if they had been in the dark, actually seemed frightened of her. Jessie had told me that the discipline was strict in the school, but nobody would talk to me. When I tried to introduce myself to the pilot and her associate, they simply said that they would introduce themselves in due course. The man in the next seat stared at me when I told him my name, and nothing would entice him to reply. It wasn't long before we took off, and I was left wondering how they managed to load the luggage so quickly, but I didn't have long to think about it before Skeggy Island appeared beneath us. I suppose the entire island was about a mile by a mile and a half, it comprised several fields, with sheep in one and some cattle in another, otherwise it was what seemed to be the Castle with various out buildings, power generating solar panels and wind turbines. Apart from the Castle, the most outstanding feature were the cliffs, two or three hundred feet sheer to the sea below, which ran right round the whole island. I couldn't see anywhere a boat could disembark people, hence I supposed the necessity for the helicopter. Once we landed, again a well handled one, the helicopter taxied forward into what looked like a hanger but it was built into the hill just to the right of the main building. Once inside the large double doors closed behind us and artificial lights came on. Waiting to greet us I recognised Jane Green, the pilot who transported my wife, and a number of other women but, I was disappointed to note, they didn't include Jessie. "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Ms. Eden." A tall blond haired woman had stepped forward and pointed her hand at the others in turn. "I am the deputy head here and these are my colleagues: Doctor Holden, head of our Health Beauty Department; Ms. Green who teaches Deportment and Presentation; Ms. Cork, Homemaking; and Ms. May and Ms. June who run our security." The last two were tall, muscular women, obviously twins or at least very close sisters. Not that the other women, with the exception of Ms. Cork, weren't tall. I'm only five feet seven inches, so all of them towered over me in their heels. What Ms. Cork lacked in height she made up for in width, let's just say that she looked like she enjoyed her food. "We have a few other helpers who you may or may not meet during your stay here, but they need only be addressed as 'Ma'am', all the ladies here must be addressed 'Mistress'. You will also be required to curtsey to any woman here, to show your respect. Slovenly behaviour is not be tolerated and will be punished harshly, you are here to learn to behave, present yourself properly, and you will learn, and show you have learnt. No one fails here, you will leave perfectly behaved or you won't leave at all. I can assure you that you will want to leave very badly. Now, take all your clothes off and make your way quickly through the door there." She pointed to a green door. There had obviously been some mistake about me, but I didn't speak out with my usual confidence. Ms. Eden's talk had unnerved me. "I'm sorry Mistress, there seems to be a mistake with me, I'm here to see my wife." One of the twins advanced on me with a knife. In one movement she sliced down my clothes from my collar all the way down one trouser leg, then sliced the other leg. The clothes fell off me then she smacked my head so hard I was only vaguely aware of falling to the ground where she pulled off my shoes and socks and slipped my watch from my wrist.. It was the fastest I had ever been undressed but I could only think how sharp her knife must have been and how close it was to my crown jewels. "Who told you to speak?" Ms. Eden screamed at me. "Get through that door." It wasn't long before all six of us men were in a windowless room completely tiled floor, walls and ceiling, nothing in there other than a fire hose. The other twin came in and picked that up. In moments we were basted by a jet of freezing cold, salty water, knocking anyone off their feet when aimed straight at an individual. This onslaught lasted for a few minutes, the other twin wandered in carrying a cardboard box and started to laugh at us. When the hose was turned off we stood there shivering with cold. "That's worked on all of them, look how small they are." The first twin, who had stripped me commented. "Just think, June, these things actually thought they were men, why, their cocks couldn't satisfy any woman. I hope these toys I've brought in aren't too big for them." They ordered us to form two lines and they pushed each man's penis into a tiny curved metal tube that was then fastened from behind his balls by means of a clamp and padlock. Now, I've always been quite proud of my size, don't say any man reading this hasn't compared their's, either at school or gym changing room or somewhere. So I had others to compare, but after that freezing water, then standing naked, my poor thing was frightened to show himself. Now there wasn't a choice. I had to put up with it until the staff found out their mistake. We were herded out of that room back into the hanger, then through double doors that took us to a lift large enough for a dozen or more passengers. I was surprised to find that rather than go up to where I assumed was the level of the castle living quarters, the lift descended. I noticed that one of the twins held a magnetic card to the lift control, so presumably it wouldn't work without. I also observed that there were four levels on the indicator, we had come in on the top one and we stopped at the next one down, meaning that there were two more floors below us. I was quite proud of collecting information like this, even though I was still wet and cold. We were then guided down a corridor, away from the lift, and if my sense of direction was correct, we were headed towards the castle. We were brought to a halt at about the fifth door along, which was some sort of anti-room. Here we were given towels and were able to dry ourselves, and the temperature was also more pleasant. It was here that the twins opened a cupboard and each armed themselves with what looked like hand torches, but instead of a bulb fitting there were two prongs. It didn't take a genius to work out that these were electronic, shortened versions of cattle prods, I think they're called stun guns. As if their physical strength and fighting ability wasn't enough, now they were armed. One by one we were taken through another door to an inner room. When my turn came I realised that this was a quasi hospital examination room, and Dr. Holden was here with two nurses, again they looked as if they could handle themselves. Here we were weighed, had blood tests drawn, examined minutely, then measurements of all parts of our bodies taken. One of the nurses used a marker pen to write the number '3174' on my right shoulder and left cheek of my butt. Then we were photographed, full body, front and rear, then face close up. When this was complete I was passed to one of the nurses who used a large paint brush to spread a gel all over my body and face, although she was careful when painting it with a small brush on the underside of my eyebrows. Then, naked again, without the towel I was taken to another anti-room to join the others who were ahead of me. All of us had consecutive numbers marked on our bodies and wearing the demeaning chastity devices. One of the twins was in the room with us when one of our number just muttered under his breath. "God help us." I was right next to him and I barely heard it, but Ms. June did and she touched him with her prod. He collapsed screaming, peeing and defecating on the floor. Sorry, but all I could think of was that I was glad it wasn't me. "Perhaps you will all learn not to open your mouths without being told," she said, and then with a grin: "We're not allowed to mark you permanently, so we have these devices that manage to go straight to the pain sensors in your brain and only leave a couple of little burn marks that heal in a few days. That was on power six of ten, imagine what ten would do." She laughed. I didn't believe her about the brain sensors, but it was evident that the damn things were painful. A rag and bucket were provided to our unfortunate compatriot so he could clean up the mess he'd made. Once we were all back together again, we were led back to the lift and taken down one more floor. The corridor here reminded me of pictures I had seen of a top security prison, there were reinforced doors down each side, all with a slotted panel at eye level , no doubt for someone to be able to inspect the occupant, and a narrow slit just above the floor. There must have been at least a dozen of these, down each side of the corridor and, while most of them were blank, a few of them had numbers slid into a holder on the door. I was not surprised to see one with 3174 on it, and I was pushed inside and the door closed with two loud clicks. "What have you done with my wife?" I shouted. "If you've harmed her I will find a way to kill you." I kept shouting until it was obvious that no one was listening. What on earth had happened to me? Did Jessie know I was here? Must she be held a prisoner as well? Perhaps the so called 'Head Teacher' Irene Black was upset by my wife receiving the legacy. One thing was sure, I wish we'd never heard of Lady Harvent. I looked round the room, or should I say, cell? It was actually well appointed, with a comfortable feeling bed, large wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a vanity, a bedside table and an en suite bathroom. At odds to all this hospitality were three obvious cameras set in the ceiling, two in the main room, one in the bathroom, so I was being observed whatever I did. I was provided with a glass in the bathroom with a note to say that the cold water was potable, but the hot tap was sea water and should not be drunk. At that moment a voice, I think of the Doctor, telling all new arrivals to shower the gel from their bodies. It was a luxury to step into a warm shower, but imagine the shock as all my body hair, including my pubes went down the drain. When I stepped out and dried myself off, even my eyebrows had been thinned into a very fine arch. We were then told to look under our pillows, where we would find a brief summary of what was expected of us. In the folder was just one printed page: 'WELCOME TO LADY HARVENT'S FINISHING SCHOOL. Your generous owner has agreed to provide you with the best training a maid servant can receive.' Maid servant? It didn't compute in my brain. It continued: 'You will learn how to best serve your Master or Mistress with their every need, and at the same time be immediately obedient, doing what they ask without question and without hesitation. You will learn to present yourself and your work to exacting specifications and be perfect at all times. If ever you fail you will be returned here for retraining at this school's expense, that is part of the guarantee we have given for our training. If that happens you will learn what it means to be someone who we do not like. If you think that the next few weeks are difficult, even painful, we will leave to your imagination how you will be treated if you have failed us. At the moment you are unworthy of a name so you are just a number. When your training starts to show some skill, you will be rewarded with clothes. You will not be told the name your owner has chosen for you until you have earned it. The same applies to clothes, although you will start to receive some rather quicker than a name.' Under this was presumably a section typed for each individual student, I mean prisoner: 'Number 3174 Lady Harvent requires a docile maid who will look and act the part at all times. In your case you will remain on the Castle staff and carry out your duties here. The title of maid to Lady Harvent is prestigious, so your training will reflect this. She has no wish to be cruel, but she will not countenance anything other than perfection.' What the hell does that all mean? Is the old girl not dead and this was some trick to kidnap us? The distasteful alternative to that, barely could be imagined. My wife is the new Lady Harvent, surely she couldn't be? Without any means of telling the time I was caught by a voice telling me that I had five minutes to lights out. I got into bed and spent a fitful night. Woken up by a voice telling me to get up and attend to my ablutions I was in the same position. Had the whole night gone by or is this only half way through? I quickly guessed the former as I had woken with my usual 'boner' only now my John Thomas had nowhere to expand to and was extremely painful. I showered and cleaned my teeth, no need to shave I noticed, and was ready in about twenty minutes. Soon after that I was collected and joined the silent throng back to the lift where we returned to the floor above. This time we went further down the corridor, passed the Doctor's room and on by two more, until we were shown into a room resembling a school room but with vanity tables instead of desks. Each desk had our corresponding number on it. Where the teacher would be, in front on a raised dais, was another vanity but with large television screens each side. The teacher turned out to be Jane Green, the pilot of the first helicopter that brought my wife here, at least I suppose it did, I reflected that it could have taken her anywhere. The woman reminded us who she was, and that we were still not allowed to speak, then introduced her assistant, Ms. Lucy, who it turned out, started to show us how to put on make up, her face being shown on the screens. It was explained to us that the make up had been selected individually for our skin tone, hence the numbered vanity, I could only think that this was getting crazier by the minute. After each stage was demonstrated to us we had to follow suit, I didn't manage too badly for my first attempt, but one of our number, 3171 I think, managed to spill some of his on the vanity. He was told to stand up then bend over his chair. Ms. Green zapped him with the same prod that the twins had used. He jumped and screamed with pain but was told that he only receive a two powered prod, but that next time he did something wrong it would be doubled to four. We were all very careful after that. The class seemed to go on for hours, as we had to wipe our faces and repeat each stage at least three times or until it looked good. When we were finally finished we were told to clean off our faces and were taken back to our rooms where a meal was waiting. Well I say a meal, it was just half a hard boiled egg with some salad, and considering we ate nothing last night, it didn't get rid of the pangs of hunger. I then got bored in the extreme, there being nothing to do. I managed to sleep for a while, but most of the time I set my mind as to how I could escape. I came to the easy conclusion that for the first few days at least they would be very careful with us, so it was just a case of gathering knowledge. Of course my best bet was to somehow get to the helicopter. I'm not even sure my wife knew that I could fly one. Of course she had come up with me on occasions, flying my company's plane, but anyone who knew anything about aircraft, and I was sure they did, would know that flying a helicopter is entirely different. Suddenly I was woken from my thoughts by the door opening and the May twin called me out of the room. I was taken up in the lift just the one floor, and for one joyous minute I thought my wife had discovered the mistake and was collecting me. No such luck. I was returned to the Doctor's room and this time told to get myself up on the examination table, worryingly he was dressed in operating room scrubs. I was filled with foreboding as Ms. May strapped me down but as the Doctor approached with a hypodermic, I took a terrible gamble. "Does my wife know I'm here?" I looked with what I hoped was a pleading look in my eyes. The Twin looked down on me and for a moment I thought she was going to prod me. "I will overlook this once," she said, "as I think that it's my great pleasure to tell you that you're going to spend the rest of your life in pain and abject despair here. You are no longer married to her, but our new Lady Harvent has graciously agreed for you to continue accompanying her, in the position of personal maid, once you've been trained, of course. You may like to know that you are not to receive hormone therapy, as Her Ladyship has not yet decided if you will be allowed occasional bedroom duties, although that's not likely in my opinion, it's much better to see you mincing around frustrated. But, remember this, if you fail to comply here, your penis will be removed and your balls sewn up into your body, you may want sex after that, but you will be completely unable, ever. Now, the next time you talk out of turn you'll be zapped with a power of eight out of ten, do you understand?" I nodded as the hypodermic went into my arm and the next thing I knew I was waking up in my room. I was immediately aware of weight and a dull ache in my chest, and saw that I was wearing a fairly sturdy bra, a large one, then I realised that I needed it. Sticking up from my chest were two, to me huge, mounds. As I sat up my attention was drawn to a typed note on my bedside table: 'CARE TO TAKE AFTER BREAST AUGMENTATION The bra fitted must be worn for twenty four hours a day for the next four days, only changing carefully into a clean one, while laying down, every day. After that, for a further three weeks it should only be taken off for showering and then the breasts must be treated very gently. Enjoy your new breasts, you are size 36D.' Also on the table were a pair of frilly pink panties with another note telling me that there was a supply of more of these, and two more bras in my dresser, and that I was responsible for washing out my dirty undies each night. All this paled into insignificance compared to what the twin had told me about Jessie, could it possibly be true? For a start I was fairly sure she couldn't inherit a title from her aunt, the peerage system was still pretty antiquated and heavily biased on the masculine side of the family. Did it matter what she called herself compared with what was happening to me? I still didn't really know that she wasn't being held against her will, the same as me, it was still certainly possible. I knew from experience that she enjoyed a good sex life, and, while I might not be the greatest lover in the world, I hadn't had any complaints from my previous sexual encounters. So on balance I thought it probable that the bitch twin was playing mind games with me, but I had to prepare myself for the worst. At that moment a tray with a plate of food was slid under my door. It was a small portion of lasagne, so I guessed, from the amount I was being given to eat that I was destined to loose weight. Making me weaker served my captors in two ways, obviously I would be slimmer and perhaps more feminine looking, but crucially, as far as I was concerned, I would loose strength, so if there was any chance of escape I would be additionally handicapped. I thought about being observed all the time, but did the cameras have infra red capacity? If they didn't, could I use the hours of darkness to exercise? It wouldn't put weight on, in fact I would loose it quicker, but what body mass I did have would be muscle. I resolved to try it after lights out that night, I would soon know if they were able to see me. In spite of my small size for a man, it wasn't many years ago that I used be very athletic, I even toyed with kick boxing and judo when I was younger, so I felt it wouldn't be very difficult to regain at least a little of my former fitness. At the very least there would be another benefit to a fit body, it would keep my mind active and positive. It would be very easy to become lethargic and beaten down emotionally by physical pain, so I set about preparing myself mentally to quietly rebel, in ways I had read in a book, about soldiers who were trained to withstand interrogation. That second night, in spite of the desecration of my body by these lumps of silicon and the damn thing round my privates, I was feeling, not exactly more optimistic, but positive that I was doing something that I had control of, not my captors. Just before the lights went out, I made up a circuit in my mind to develop various muscles. The bed was heavy and had horizontal steel rods in a pattern at both the head and foot, I surreptitiously tried lifting the foot end, and although it hardly moved, it was much heavier than I first thought, I felt it would strengthen me if I used it as weights. I could obviously run on the spot, increasing that ability must be an advantage and placing my feet under the bed and doing sit ups would give me better abdominals. I knew that by doing all these things I had accepted that I would be here a long time, but preparing myself in this way I knew must be to my advantage. When I finally got to sleep that night I was exhausted. The next morning, after suffering my boner again, we were given a little cereal for breakfast, then taken again to the room on the next floor up where we had our lesson yesterday, but this time it was to be fitted with a waist cincher. These pulled our waists in by five inches and I could hardly breath. As I looked around at the other victims being dressed in the same way, I noticed that two of them, although they were wearing very small cupped bras, had no breasts, the others had obviously received implants the same as me. Further I couldn't see any bulge in there panties where there chastity device should be. They still had a penis, but I was pretty certain they'd lost their balls. I wondered if these poor devils were started on hormone treatment. After we had all been fitted we were moved on to another room, this was in the form of a large kitchen with many different workstations so here we were to learn to cook. I had no problems here as I enjoyed cooking and often did it to relieve my wife as I knew that to her it was a chore. Between us we prepared an asparagus soup, the main course of duck breasts with a plum sauce, four vegetables, and a dessert of cr?me caramel. All of these things I had cooked before, so it was only a question of scaling up for about fifteen to twenty people, but after the plated dishes were sent away, we had to prepare our own lunches of a very small portion of curry and rice. After that we made up a stew and placed it in a low oven for us to have as our dinner tonight. Although the food was sufficient to live on, it was surely designed to get our weights down, but I still exercised that night. The next day, after replacing my bra, panties and cincher and eating my meagre breakfast, I was taken back to the Doctor, where I was strapped into a reclining chair, similar to a dentist's. Nothing was said to me about what was going to happen, but soon she was working on my face with what I quickly realised were tattoo instruments. Either the Doctor or one or other of the nurses, or sometimes two together were at it for what seemed like hours. It was only after they had finally finished that I was shown what they had done in a mirror. My face was fully made up, eyeliner, greyish purple eye shadow, blushing cheeks and puffed up, bright red lips. The breast implants I knew could be taken out, but now they had made a permanent and very obvious change to me. "Now you will only need to apply a little gloss to your lips and eyelids each morning," one of the nurses told me. I silently cried, tears rolling down my face. My life was ruined, even if I did escape this hell hole. I returned to the belief that my wife was surely being held against her will, the same as me. I could not believe that she would have done this to me, then it changed again. The Doctor wasn't finished. I was turned over, still sobbing, backside in the air, and they worked another tattoo on my right cheek. When the straps holding me down were released, I was shown this new one, it read 'Lady Harvent's slave maid', with a picture of a whip above it. I became hysterical, I screamed and lashed out at any of them that came near me, not even feeling it when a nurse zapped me the first time, then she must have increased the power, because the following time she touched me a flash of agony hit me, and the next thing I knew I was back in my cell. It wasn't the tattoo. What really sent me into despair was that I now knew for certain that it was my wife, my loving, kind and sweet wife who was torturing me like this. I lay on my bed thinking of what had happened and what I could do about it. I believed that if I hadn't been to a certain extent prepared, the knowledge about my wife would really have sent me into a deep depression. As it was my emotion turned to that of blind hatred, but when I started to think of how I could get revenge, I decided that in this case, the best attack would be defence. If I was able to convince them that I was in a zombie like state, there would be very little they could do about it. If I did as I was told, accepted everything without emotion, their control over me would seem total, but I could still prepare for when they let their defences down. It was what I think is called a 'passive/aggressive' approach. They couldn't fault me for doing wrong, my actions would seem correct, but somehow those of an automaton, not me, which hopefully, would really annoy them but at the same time, make them the impotent party. They left me alone for the rest of the day and I started to feign being so depressed that I couldn't eat the meals passed under the door. However, I did my exercises that night until I collapsed with exhaustion. They thought that I was broken and I vowed to do nothing to alter their opinions. The next day's torture was again under Ms. Green, learning to walk in shoes with five inch heels. I accepted them with a purposely vacant look on my face. We had to walk round and round the room, but the day before had taken its toll on me, because after a couple of hours I genuinely fainted. The twins both came to collect me and take me to the doctor. Their anger was ill disguised, but short of zapping me, upon which I would have passed out and been beyond hurt, there was nothing they could do. When the Doctor heard that I hadn't eaten the day before, and now saw me in an apparently catatonic state, she gave me a blood test, then a couple of high sugar energy bars, which I ate only when told to, and then only lethargically, while she examined me. I had to hide that I was delighted when she declared that I was severely undernourished and suffering from clinical depression, telling them that she would work out a new diet for me. Back in my room that night I had a review of what I had, and could reasonably expect to achieve. I was already getting stronger, in spite of my food intake, but it didn't seem likely that I would be able to escape from these quarters. If I could convince them that I was fit to serve my wife, things wouldn't change immediately, they would take a while to believe I was beaten, but once they did, their guard would be down. So, co-operate as if in a daze and exercise clandestinely. When my time came, and by God it would eventually if I survived, I was going to make my torturers pay for this. The next few weeks (I could only guess, judging by our 'days') passed with the daily round of lessons which included, but by no means were limited to in Deportment; sitting, curtseying, carrying things, walking, and speaking with a breathy, higher pitched voice. In Homemaking; cooking, nutrition, serving at and laying tables, house cleaning, sewing and knitting, washing clothes and ironing. In Health and Beauty; personal and female hygiene, cunnilingus techniques, hairdressing and cosmetology. Even the slightest infringement was rewarded with a painful dose from a stun gun in all these lessons. I assume that because of my attitude, I was largely exempt from most of these punishments, but all of us thought we were living on a knife edge, never being allowed to relax. Our five inch heeled shoes were the only ones we were supposed to wear, even in our rooms. I guess that was to cause our Achilles tendons the shrink, so I made sure that my feet were flat on the floor as I exercised each night. However, each and every day I performed as best I could like a robot, carrying out all orders promptly but without showing any emotion. Our 'uniforms' were gradually developed, according to the wishes of our owners. The two men who I think were on hormones, were given just traditional hotel type plain house coats, but when they were undressed I could see that as their busts grew, their penises shrank. They just looked like unattractive, dowdy housemaids. The rest of us were given better quality garments, but while 3171 had long, below the knee skirts, us others had fetish French Maids' costumes. Mine was cut especially short, I was told that it was so that my 'slave' tattoo was always visible. I paid no apparent attention to how I was treated or clothed. Ms. Green, in her deportment class was displease with one of my fellow French maids. She took great delight in giving a particularly humiliating and painful punishment. "3173, if you don't pull your shoulders back and stand up straight you will regret it," she bellowed. Apparently 3173 did not improve sufficiently, because Ms. Green called for the twins, who carried in a mechanical device that looked like a long car jack, but with a high pole where the car would be. At the top of the pole was a 'U' shaped strip of steel, about two inches wide, and just off the lowest part of the 'U' was an upright metal phallus. 3173 was stripped and lifted up to be impaled on the phallus which penetrated his backside by a couple of inches, and by tying his ankles together, around the pole, he was immobilised. Green then brought out a voluminous ball gown, placed it over the frightened victim and zipped it up. An old fashioned muff was sewn into the front of the dress, at waist level, but when his hands were placed in it, they were fixed there with hidden handcuffs. With horror on the faces of the prisoners, but laughter from the staff, Green pumped up the jack. The pole had an inner part which raised, first of all impaling him the full depth of the phallus, making him scream, then lifting the by now hysterical man off the ground. I realised that it must be crushing his balls with his whole weight resting on them. He was left like that for the rest of the 'lesson', his screams turning to pathetic whimpering. Through all this, I had to maintain my character and show a dull indifference, even while I was screaming for him inside. No one slouched when walking after that, especially as we overheard the conversation of the twins: "That's worked perfectly, June." "I told you it would, we can make a dozen or so of them and then we can have a guard of honour using all the pupils that haven't behaved." They took great delight in watching the faces of their potential victims. I was the only one who had tattoos. In a weak moment, while she was demonstrating something else, Ms. Cork, our cook/teacher, let it slip that tattooing was rare, as an escaped slave could easily prove mistreatment. I assumed, from the way she had spoken, that they didn't think my brain would take in what she'd said, and that in any case, I was never expected to leave the Island. For almost all the time during our training we were not allowed to speak, indeed I would sometimes recite poetry I had learned at school, back in my room, just to hear the sound of my own voice. As I assumed that they had microphones, as well as cameras in the room, I felt it would add to the impression of me having a type of nervous breakdown. Inspected by the Doctor one day, I heard her say that I was turning into a sad case, but that my appearance was more 'wiry' than expected, although she passed no further comment. Thus I was able to continue my clandestine exercises undetected and at the same time escape many of the painful punishments inflicted on my fellows. I couldn't help feeling a little guilty over this, but I knew I had to stick to my agenda. One day, I supposed like any other, we had spent an hour in the morning between the legs of the twins, a couple of nurses and Ms Lucy and Ms Green. This led most of us, or at least me, to spending a frustrating time dreaming what might have been. Under those circumstances we were told that today was a special day for us. We were now trained to our torturers' satisfaction and we were going to be presented with our names. I suppose I had got so used to being called 3174, that I had forgotten all about this bit of humiliation. While everyone else were sent to their cells to put on their best uniforms, I was first sent back to the Doctor. He added something to the tattoo on my buttock, then covered it with a sticking plaster, needless to say for her benefit I arrived and left in an apparent daze, indifferent to yet another injury inflicted on my body. In my most frilly and ridiculous pink French Maid costume, with pink stockings and heels, I was taken to join the others. The twins then escorted us for the first time to enter the lift and descend to the lowest floor, exiting in a long corridor with no rooms off, but two barred off passages that smelled of damp and sea. I studied the position of these carefully for future reference. The passage led to a stairway, which wound upwards. Again, thinking knowledge would be my key, I counted them; 129 steps. At the top an old door opened directly into what I knew was the Castle and this was confirmed when we were taken into what must have been a banqueting hall. All our 'tutors' were there, every one of them dressed in an apparent uniform of white blouses, brown leather jackets with matching short skirts, brown knee high boots, brown tights, all with their hair tied back and each carried a riding crop. Their prods were still on hand though, in holsters attached to their belts. At the far end of the hall were positioned two large chairs on a dais, thrones I immediately thought of, with one slightly smaller than the other. We were led about two thirds of the way towards these chairs, then ordered to kneel in a line, one behind another, the two dowdy maids at the front, myself bringing up the rear. The so called deputy head teacher. Ms. Eden, stood to one side of the chairs. "Slave Maids, bow before our head, Ms. Black," She announced, and in walked the woman who ran this hell, who had been described to us as the Head Teacher of a Ladies Finishing School. She was dressed in the same outfit as all the others, except that hers was black, and her skirt was ankle length. She took her place on the marginally smaller of the chairs. "Now Slave Maids, it is your great honour to be allowed to kiss the feet of our illustrious benefactor, Lady Harvent of Skeggy." In walked my wife. Although I had almost a hundred percent accepted that she was responsible for my torture, I suppose I still had a shadow of a hope that it wasn't true. Now there she was, dressed as all the others, but her leather outfit was again black, her blouse was gold, and she had on a miniskirt showing her gold tights. One by one the men were named. The first dowdy maid was named 'Pansy' and he, or it might soon be she, had to crawl along the floor to kiss each of my wife's boots, then crawl away to eventually be taken out through a door on our right. The second maid followed suit and was named 'Petunia'. "Their owner obviously wanted a matching pair of freaks," my wife commented out loud and to which all the women present laughed. There followed the first French maid, named 'Christine', the second 'Miranda', then in front of me, 'Fifi', all of them crawling to my wife and kissing her boots. Then I was the only one left, but all that was said was "3174". I crawled forward but realised that, no matter what I felt like calling her, they thought I was broken, so that was how I had to act. I kissed her boots, then looked up to her face, trying to look right through her and show no recognition. "Ah, my little 3174," she smiled at me, "what have we called you? Oh yes, I thought Millie the Maid would be most appropriate," With that she nodded to Ms. Eden who pulled the plaster off of my new tattoo. I didn't have to look to know the name of 'Millie' had been added. I looked up blankly but I couldn't help it, tears started to roll down my cheeks. She thought she knew that I was broken. "What a sweet little sissy maid you make Millie, I am going to so much enjoy having you wait on me and especially when you undress me and know you can't touch." Then: "Bring her to my quarters in fifteen minutes." I had to crawl out of her presence then and join the others in the next room, all the while listening to her praise the work of all the torturers. After a few minutes, Ms. Eden joined us to give us the final word. "Only a few short months ago I welcomed you here. Now you are trained, but if you think this has been hard, let me remind you that if you have to return for retraining, you will look back on this as a stay in a holiday camp. I can promise another thing: If that isn't enough, you wouldn't survive a third visit and your death would be slow and very painful. The helicopter will now take you back to your owners, not you Millie, we have the pleasure of dealing with you permanently." With that they were led back towards the staircase up which we had arrived. I was taken back through the now vacated hall, a door at the top end, leading to a flight of stairs again up to another floor. I was stopped by her and told to lean over the handrail of the stairwell. We were joined by the twins. "We wanted to warn you," Ms. Eden told me, "Lady Harvent wanted you to know that it matters not if you have a few scars across your backside. So we are going to give you an idea of what will happen every time her Ladyship has cause to complain about you." With that both twins laid into me with their crops, one aiming for the cheek on their side. Each laded about three blows. "This time," Eden spoke over my sobs, "Ms. May and Ms. June have constrained themselves, as we have no wish to sully her Ladyship's quarters with your filthy blood, they gave you just a few light taps. Your standard punishment will have them unfettered by such considerations and thrash you hard for a minimum of twenty four strokes each. I expect you noticed that these crops are a little narrower than standard ones. That is so they inflict maximum damage. You will probably faint before half are done, so we will wake you, then continue until finished. This will cause you considerable damage which will necessitate a Doctor's visit, but the next complaint will see you get double. You already know what will happen to your crown jewels if there are more complaints or there is a serious breach of discipline. Understand girl?" "Yes Mistress." But with all my willpower I kept a dazed expression and although I was shedding tears I looked blankly at her, the twins and round the walls. I was then taken to the end of this corridor, where there was a room the size of a large cupboard It only had space for a wardrobe, bed and vanity with drawers, all on one side, and there was just room to walk on the other side to get through to a toilet and shower. There was no window. "This is your room, girl, next to your owner. Everything you need from your old room has been moved in here." Then she smiled. "I know Ms. May and Ms. June hope rather hope you will fowl up. They've been wanting to whip you since you first arrived, expecting special treatment. Now come along with me to her Ladyship's Chambers, and hurry, we have the next intake arriving shortly." "Yes Mistress," I replied but to the wall as much as to her. We walked about thirty feet back down the corridor, pausing at a door, she knocked. In moments we heard the invitation to enter a luxuriously appointed office. "Your slave, My Lady." I was being introduced to my wife. "Thank you, Sue, I expect you want to greet the next batch, how many is it this time?" "Eighteen so we will need three deliveries." "We must get that alternative transport sorted out soon, at the rate we are expanding." "Yes, I will chase it up and report later." 'Knowledge is the key. Now I know that they expect to use another method of landing apart from the helicopter, that can only mean a boat and that means access to the base of the cliffs' I thought to myself. Eden left so I gave a deep curtsey, but stared round as if in a trance. "Come here girl, let me see your pretty face. What does it feel like always to be a man, but look like a stupid slut with that make up?" "My Lady, I must thank you for saving me the trouble of applying my make up each day, now I can always look my best as your maid and I have more time to carry out your wishes, My Lady," I curtsied as I gave my automatic speech. "Aren't you frustrated, permanently having your penis in chastity? My friends here have shown me the pleasures of sex with other beautiful women, how are you managing now you're deprived?" "Oh, My Lady, it is for the best, wearing this concentrates my mind on carrying out your wishes to the very best of my ability." I finished my mantra with another curtsey but still emotionless. "We'll find out how good you are at servicing, follow me." "Yes My Lady," I said, with curtsey. "I am yours to command." She turned certain that I would follow as a slave would. Through the adjoining door was an equally luxurious bedroom with a huge four poster bed, she went over and laid on it, her legs mainly hanging over the side. "Take my panties off and relax me, girl." I knew from my training what this signified, so very gently I lifted her body sufficiently to draw her panties down her thighs and off over her boots, noticing that they were soaked as I did so. This would have been followed by her tights, but I was surprised to see that they were crotchless and her bald pussy was glistening. It must be worth mentioning now that all the time we were courting and married, Jessie didn't even like shaving her armpits, although she did it in the summer. The idea of defoliating between her legs was so alien to her, I would have staked my life that she wouldn't have done it. Now I set to work the way I had been trained, a little different from my old technique, so I assumed that she would have expected me to do it the new way, but I was in for another surprise. "That's not the way you used to do it slave, you used to start by licking up my thighs and be much more subtle." "My Lady," I put a sense of panic in my voice, "please don't have me punished, it is the way I have been taught and I can't remember ever doing it any other way." I carried on licking and sucking her clit exactly as I had been taught, although I realised that she preferred it the way I used to approach in, what I considered, a more sensuous way. "Can't you remember who I used to be?" "I'm sorry, My Lady, something is familiar, but I'm told that I was in trauma for some reason and I have few memories before that, please forgive me, My Lady, please don't punish me, please, My Lady." "Oh hell!" she exclaimed. "Who were you before you arrived here?" "Oh, I'm sorry My Lady, I think I have only been 3174, please don't punish me My Lady." "What the hell have they done to you?" She was getting mad. "I was told that I could play with you, that you would be crazy with lust for me so I could torment you." "Please My Lady, I can be crazy with lust for you, I can be whatever you want me to be. See, I am desperate to lick your pussy, I have been well trained, please don't have me punished My Lady." I then made a point of sucking and licking like a demented person, so much so that she became diverted by my ministrations and shortly had an orgasm. I was delighted to note that it was obviously quite mild, after all I knew her well, and I was well aware that my previous lovemaking, with a slow and gentle build up, was much more satisfying to her. She sat up and picked up the bedside telephone. "Ask Dr. Holden to come up to my quarters please." She walked back into the office, without restoring her panties and with me following behind. She sat at her desk looking though a file, and in default of any other orders I knelt at the side of the desk. After a short interlude, the Doctor knocked and was bid enter. "What happened to this girl?" she demanded. "I was told that she would remember what I had put her through and be resigned that I can now dominate her, or at the very least be extremely malcontent. Instead of that I've got an obedient zombie." "I'm sorry Jessie," The Doctor spoke factually "everything was going well until we tattooed her with your name. I suspect that up until then he believed that perhaps you were captured as well. Once he saw the tattoo he knew that you were responsible. All I can surmise, through considerable experience of these disorders, was that up to that point his whole world was wrapped up in his fear that the one he loved was in danger. That's what kept him going. Then he had the sudden realisation that this same person was responsible for his torture, and I can assure you that for him it was all torture. His brain had no further reason to function and it shut down, he died in the same way as his perception of you. As you have yourself pointed out, he is one hundred percent obedient, so you have the slave you wanted, it's just that the person you knew is no longer inside. I'm sorry, but when someone deeply in love suffers a shock such as he has had, there is no way to predict how they will take it." I spent my time carefully studying the walls in front of me, only just able to keep a blank face. "Isn't there anything you can do to get him back Nina?" "I'm sorry Jessie, I can't turn the clock back, and as you have gathered, there is no need to pretend to be formal in front of him. He is only programmed to take and carry out orders, any other subtleties of life are meaningless to him." "Are you certain that he's not acting?" "I am a cinema fan. If he's acting he would win an Oscar." At this point I would have liked to make my acceptance speech, but I felt I should save it until I'm out of this land of perverts. "One other thing, Jessie. I know that May and June want to beat him, but you're aware they have these highly sadistic tendencies, that's why we had to reign them back, even before you took over. They permanently disabled two of the customers' property so were limited to their prods. I believe they've asked you to allow them to beat Millie, but I have to tell you that, because of her mental conditioning, any rule contravention that Millie makes will be accidental. For that reason severe punishment of that type may only achieve putting your maid permanently in a wheelchair or worse. Either outcome could eventuality be extremely inconvenient to us, so do you think that you could reconsider?" "OK Nina, they're bringing in the new intake at the moment but I'll have a word when they've finished. For the same reason I'd better let you get back to your job, we're going to be busy for the next few weeks." My wife turned to me after the door closed. "Did you understand what the Doctor was talking about girl?" "My Lady, I'm terribly sorry, was I supposed to listen? I have been taught not to pay any attention to my betters talking among themselves. Please My Lady, don't punish me, I didn't know I was supposed to listen," Still on my knees, I clasped my hands in supplication and it seemed to do the trick. "Alright girl, nothing for you to worry your head about. You haven't eaten this evening have you?" I answered that I hadn't. "Can you find your way back to the Great Hall? Good. Go across that to the far side, out the door, turn left and down the stairs. You'll find the kitchens down there, tell them I've sent you to get fed and once you're done come back here and go to your room. There is a bell I will ring if I need you, so don't waste time, and knock on my door pronto if you hear the bell. OK?" For the first time in weeks, perhaps months, I was unescorted and also in the main building. What I had to do was exactly as I was told. At some stage I would have an opportunity to reconnoitre the area, but for now I had to build up their trust in me. I found the kitchen with no trouble and vacantly explained that Her Ladyship had sent me to eat. I was provided with better and more food than I had eaten before, but on the way back disaster struck. I had just arrived back at the door to the Great Hall, when Ms. May screamed at me. "What the hell are you doing, wandering around on your own?" "Please Mistress, My Lady told me to get something to eat and now I am on my way back to my room." "Liar!" Ms June had joined us, they both still carried their crops. "You were warned what would happen if you did anything wrong." There were several upright chairs against the wall, and Ms. May pulled me over one while Ms. June started thrashing me with her riding crop. My agony was intense. I tried to go through all the mental exercises that I'd read about, but I felt myself loosing consciousness. If I wasn't careful I would really have a mental breakdown. I was vaguely aware of them changing over, when there was a shout from behind us. I was dropped to the floor and was only half conscious when I registered that Ms. Eden had stopped my punishment and was explaining to the twins that the instruction that I could be beaten had been rescinded. Then when I woke, I was in the Doctor's consulting room, but not the one in the prisoners' area. I was really in severe pain, I couldn't stop myself from moaning, but had enough sense to play it in character. You know the old rule, divide and conquer, the more I could sow discontent and distrust among my captors, the happier I would be. "Please don't hurt me more, please no!" I screamed and jumped/fell off the examination table I had been placed on and crouched hysterically crying in the corner of the room by the door. It took all my willpower not to just lie still and try to mitigate my pain, but if I wanted out, now was the time to convince my captors of my harmlessness. "I'm not going to hurt you dear," the Doctor was trying to calm me. "All I want to do is help with the pain." "No!" I screamed again, and at that point, Ms. Eden came through the door to see what all the noise was about. "Nooo! Please I was told to get food. Please don't hit me again. Nooo!" I scrambled on all fours away from the newcomer and hid in the foot well of the Doctor's desk. There I was partially surrounded on two sides by drawers, and the modesty panel on the front of the desk behind me. "Get out Sue!" The Doctor shouted at Eden, "Your savages did this, put them in cages before I give them something that will put them down!" She really was mad, and Eden beat a hasty retreat. Aware that I was bleeding freely, but also knowing that it was having quite an effect on the Doc I rebutted all attempts she made to coax me out, all the time screaming and shouting. Eventually, as I had hoped, it drew the attention of my wife, towards whom I acted as if she was the one who beat me. "Please, M'Lady, you told me to get food, what did I do wrong M'Lady?" She was shocked to see that blood was seeping out across the carpet from under the modesty panel at the front of her desk, and she pointed it out to the Doc. This was perfect as I knew that she could never stand the sight of blood and I must have lost half a pint, exacerbated by my violent movements. At least that hadn't changed about her, as she had to leave, explaining that she