\'Jane And Carol At The Great Slave Hunt.\' free porn video

                                             Jane and Carol at the Great Slave Hunt.

                                                 CHAPTER ONE

     ?You'll enjoy it so much, Jane,? Carol told her enthusiastically. ?Just think; a whole three weeks in role together!?

  Jane was dubious. Her cousin's proposal was exciting, but Jane had never role-played before strangers and she inwardly quailed at the very idea of appearing naked in public. But, deep within, a queer little thrill at the prospect stirred.

  Carol laughed at her. She knew very well what was troubling Jane. A veteran of several BDSM Club events, she herself had once shared the same reservations.

    ?It isn't at all what you may think, dear!? she said earnestly. ?Take it from me, BDSM Clubs are extremely tough on anything sexual; they're positively Puritanical on the point. No-one, particularly a woman, will be subject to any sexual innuendo even, or anything of that kind! And, don't forget, this will be a Femdom event; the men present will all be slaves and well under the control of their Mistresses. And also, we'll be there in animal roles, and these people are very experienced in letting people play their parts; they will think of us purely as animals; attractive and graceful animals perhaps? (she chuckled) ?but animals just the same!?

  Jane, despite herself, was almost convinced. But at once she put an unerring finger at the weak spot in her cousin's scheme.

    ?If this is a Feminine Domination event,? she said, ?they won't want subordinate women there. Surely it would make a mockery of the whole thing??

  Carol's brow creased in a frown; her cousin had a point!   

    ?Yes; it would rather,? she admitted. ?But we wouldn't be present as woman, but as female animals. Anyway, that's the argument I'll put to Lady Isobel when I see her tomorrow. Why don't you come too? One look at her will put your mind at rest!?

  And to this proposition Jane agreed; after all, what could it possibly cost her?

  Noon the next day found them driving along a narrow lane somewhere near Minchinhampton. A broad gateway flanked by two stone lions led by a winding route through extensive park lands to a large, Georgian mansion.

  Carol parked in front of the house, slid out from beneath the steering wheel and walked confidently up the broad steps to the imposing front door where she pulled insouciantly upon the bell rope at its side, while Jane stood uncertainly at her cousin's side, a little over-awed by the grandeur and scale of their surroundings. Her equilibrium was further disturbed when the door was opened by an immaculately dressed Butler.

  To Jane's secret admiration Carol was perfectly composed in the presence of this forbidding apparition.

    ?Good afternoon, Perkins,? she said airily. ?We have an appointment with your Mistress!?

    ?Quite so, Miss Carol,? he murmured in reply. ?Yourself and...??

  He glanced at Jane, an eyebrow raised in polite enquiry.

    ?My cousin; Jane,? explained Carol.

    ?Of course!? he gravely replied. ?Good afternoon, Miss Jane. If the ladies will follow me...??

  On their way along the broad corridor, with its walls hung with paintings and its high ceiling, Jane's hand sought out that of her cousin for assurance, and it was thus they entered the large, sunny morning room; hand in hand like two children.

  'Lady' Isobel turned out to be an incongruously large and jolly-looking woman in her middle years. When they were decorously ushered into the room, they found her poring over a pile of official looking documents, steel-rimmed pince-nez perched upon her ample nose. Perkins uttered a polite cough, and she looked up from her papers.

  The smile of welcome on her face changed to one of tender and appreciative wonder when she saw them together. Two pretty young girls, hand in hand, virginally fresh, and identically dressed from their tiny sandals to their simple dresses and even to the leather collars around their slender throats. Carol she had met on several occasions, but the other girl – who might well have been her twin – was unknown to her.

  Introductions were made, Perkins was dispatched for refreshments, and the three settled down to the business of their meeting.

  Isobel sat in a comfortable armchair, facing 'the twins', as she was already mentally thinking of them. They sat opposite on a sofa, close together as if loath to be separated. Every so often their hands would steal into each other's, and they spoke alternatively, often completing each other's sentences, obliging their hostess to look from one to other. marvelling as she did so at their uncanny resemblance to each other.

    ?We know it might be a problem,? began Carol.

    ?Because of it being a Female Domination event,? added Jane.

    ?But we wouldn't be attending as slaves,? said Carol.

    ?But as animals – female animals, of course!? her cousin said, giggling infectiously.

    ?So we could be hunted...?  ?Like the male slaves...?  ?Except that when we're caught...?  ?Our new owner would treat us as animals...?  ?We're very good at being animals – really!? Carol ended earnestly.

  Isobel looked at their anxious faces and burst into helpless laughter, the tears running down her homely face.

    ?Oh, my dears!? she gasped. ?Of course you may take part; if it was my sole decision. You shall both stay for lunch, and meet Mistress Sarah – it's at her place that the Hunt is taking place. If she agrees – and I'm sure she will – the other Ladies will fall into line; I'm sure!?

  With that, she sent them both off under the charge of Perkins to prepare for lunch.

  In the large and luxurious bathroom, Carol acquainted Jane with the details of Lady Isobel's eccentric menage.

    ?Perkins is a permanent resident,? Carol informed her cousin. ?He's a slave, of course. Did you notice his collar? It's silver, you know!?

  Jane was astonished at this bland declaration. Carol went on.

    ?Lady Isobel has quite a few slaves. Some temporary – weekends and holidays, and so forth – and two or three permanent. We'll probably be waited on at lunch by one of her transvestite slave-maids.?

  Jane giggled, and was about to express her amazement that anyone would want to be a transvestite, let alone a slave, before remembering her own reason for being here with Carol. Wisely, she remained silent and joined her cousin in the large shower.

  Showered and lightly scented, they descended the sweeping staircase in Perkins' wake. By some triumph of organisation, their sandals had been cleaned and polished, and their dresses pressed and ironed during their brief absence in the bathroom.

  They entered onto the sweeping terrace on which lunch was to be taken, Carol confidently – because she had met Mistress Sarah before – and Jane timidly, her hand stealing again into that of her cousin to give her confidence.

  Everything went perfectly swimmingly, Mistress Sarah being as struck by the cousins as her friend. They departed with the assurance that the rest of the Ladies would agree to their presence, odd though this innovation was. But they were warned that one member of the Group, a certain 'Lady Noire', might be awkward about it.

                                           CHAPTER TWO

  The possible objections of Lady Noire were evidently overcome, or set aside, for only three days later an E-mail confirming the admission of Jane and Carol to the Hunt was received, and a copy of the Rules was being down-loaded on Carol's computer.

  Jane had bought, on a whim, an extra-large office chair and installed it before the computer keyboard. Designed to seat a very large man, the diminutive cousins were able to sit in it side by side, the fingers of their four hands flying over the keys.

  They stared at the Rules on the monitor before them in silence before beginning to summarise them for each other's benefit.

    ?All slaves to be hunted shall be naked and mitted,? read Carol, with a little giggle.

    ?The Hunt will start daily one hour after dawn, and cease one hour before sunset,? read Jane.

  They printed out a copy for each of them and retired to the patio with a large jug of cold lemonade to study them.

  The methodical Jane read carefully, often referring to the detailed map of Mistress Sarah's estate which had been sent to them. A skilled model-maker, she even went so far as to build a relief map of the area and spent hours studying it carefully and making numerous notes.

  The less organised Carol was astonished by the seriousness in which her cousin was approaching their forthcoming ordeal.

    "It really isn't worth the effort, my dear," she told Jane. "No slave has managed to stay uncaptured for more than the first day and night. Nearly everyone is taken by noon on the second day, and no-one lasts till that evening."

    "Well," said Jane, her mouth set in a grim little line, "they won't find it so easy to capture us!"

  Carol gaped at her in amazement.

    "Whatever do you mean?" she asked in a tiny voice. "You surely can't hope to stay free for the entire time?"

   "I can and I do!" replied her cousin confidently. "And so shall you if you do as I tell you!"

  Carol begged her cousin for more information, and they went outside to for Jane to explain her strategy over a cup of tea.

  Jane began by saying that the slaves were almost all middle-aged town dwellers. They would not know how to live, naked and unseen, in the woods; after a single night of cold, hunger and loneliness they would be delighted to be captured – they enjoyed being slaves, after all! And the threat from their Mistresses was not great. They, too, would only be playing at hunting, and would soon become discouraged when their quarry failed to oblige them by offering itself to be caught.

    "But we are wild animals," Jane told her, "and we don't enjoy captivity!"

    "But what about food?" Carol asked doubtfully.

    "The Lord will provide!" Jane replied cryptically, and giggled.

                                               CHAPTER THREE

  They arrived at the appointed time of noon to be welcomed by Perkins, lent by his Mistress for the occasion. At Jane's desire, he took them on a short tour of the outside of Mistress Sarah's imposing Georgian mansion. She payed particular attention to the walled yard at the rear on to which opened the kitchen. There were kennels on the far side, at the ends of narrow, barred runs. There was a large barn, in which were 'pony'  stalls and cages, and Carol shuddered at the delicious thoughts that these sights suggested to her.

  It had been decided, Perkins told them off-handedly, that, as they were to be 'animals' as opposed to slaves, they were to be introduced in that role. A suitable cage had been provided for them, and they would spend the night in it before being released tomorrow morning when the Hunt started.

  "So if the ladies would care to follow me," he told them smoothly, "I shall show them to their, er, temporary accommodation where they may prepare themselves."

  Giggling, the two girls followed the Butler into a smaller barn where he left them to get into role.

  "One of the household slaves will attend you in ten minutes in order to, er, secure you," he said before leaving them.

  They walked over and regarded the cage provided for them with professional interest. At six feet long and four feet high and wide, it was easily large enough to hold two creatures of their diminutive size in moderate comfort. There was a broad, shallow steel trough welded to the bars halfway down one of the long sides, and a thick absorbent pad covered the steel floor. There was no sign of any 'toilet' arrangements for the cage's inmates, an omission which made them giggle afresh.

  Carol at once removed her single garment and her sandals; Jane, after a moment's hesitation, following suit. Her cousin, kneeling to rummage in the small bag of gear they had brought with them, brought out the little gags and the mitts they would wear for the next ten days. Jane, caught up in her cousin's excitement, swiftly fitted her gag and clamped her mitts shut around her wrists. Then she went down on all-fours in readiness for Carol to switch on the portable transmitter they had brought with them which would keep them from rising above the pre-set height of three feet. Tittering in delight, they scrambled into the cage.

  The promised slave, a middle-aged man in a steel collar and thick sandals, a short linen skirt covering his loins, arrived within a few minutes. To their great delight, he took no more notice of them as if they'd really been the animals they'd set out to imitate. He merely spared them a casual glance before closing the cage door and securing it with its simple latch. As he left the barn, he shut the door behind him, leaving them in the dusty dimness.

  Jane lay on the soft but scratchy pad, her head propped upon her cousin's thigh. Now that the die was cast she felt much more comfortable, enjoying again the delicious feeling of total irresponsibility which accompanied her complete helplessness. Carol, judging by her regular breathing and lack of motion, had dozed off, and Jane lost no time in following her example.

  It was still dim in the barn when Carol awoke, the only light coming through the gaps in the crude wooden door. She turned drowsily on to her other side, her legs colliding with the ankles of her cousin. Opening her eyes fully, she saw Jane crouched in a corner of their cage, and, by the sounds of liquid splashing on to the pad, she was urinating. Carol felt herself flushing, and giggled silently. The sight made her conscious of her own full bladder, but she postponed relieving herself until she gathered the courage to do so in such close company. But she would have to do so soon, and she was in the process of debating imitating her cousin when the opportunity was lost for the moment.

  The door opened, letting in a flood of bright late-afternoon sunshine, and two burly slaves entered. Jane instinctively crouched to preserve her modesty; but Carol, much more used to being naked before the eyes of others, rose on her hind legs and placed her front 'paws' upon the transverse bar midway up the side of the bars to see what the slaves were doing.

Completely ignoring the two girls, the slaves took up a long, 'T' shaped, steel rod and inserted its plain end into a socket at the front of the cage. Grunting with effort, they pumped it up and down, and the cage rose smoothly upwards on the hidden rubber wheels in its thick base. Each grasping one side of the 'T' shaped handle, they pulled the heavy cage through the doors into the sunshine.

  Travelling slowly across the concrete yard, Jane was flushed with embarrassment, feeling that every eye was upon them, crouched naked in their cage. But Carol had no such qualms; she ran from one end of the cage to the other, occasionally stumbling over Jane, eagerly drinking in the scene as they progressed.

  The cage, after traversing the yard, was brought to rest on a lawn under the shade of a huge tree. Around them were scattered pretty little rustic tables with comfortable padded chairs of wicker, obviously for the use of the Ladies, though none were to be seen as yet. Fifty feet away, directly across the lawn, was the raised terrace of the house. An ornate white-painted balustrade protected any occupants from falling to the ground four feet below and was extended down each side of a broad flight of shallow steps to end in a gate at the edge of the lawn.

  The two slaves left as silently as they'd came, but Jane had scarcely time to feel her relief at being unobserved before a woman walked briskly into view  around the corner of the house, leading on a chain a man, his shoulders bowed in submission.

  The distance was not so great as to prevent them noticing that the slave had been punished recently, for several thin, red stripes disfigured the white skin of his buttocks and the backs of his upper thighs; and he was stark naked, too, apart from the steel collar to which his chain was attached. Jane felt herself flushing once more, but she continued to watch as the woman, on reaching the gate, uttered a curt order at which the slave fell to his knees for his chain to be secured low down to a gate post. The woman left him crouching there miserably without a backward glance and Jane, who had dreaded the prospect of the woman coming over to their cage, relaxed. Carol took the opportunity to squat and relieve herself despite her embarrassment at the near proximity of her cousin.

  Jane stiffened in surprise and apprehension as there appeared on the terrace, one after the other, two women, 'Ladies' by their apparel, for they were dressed in the gauzy garments beloved of Edwardian painters, and they carried dainty parasols which they erected against the glare of the sun as they descended the steps.

  The tethered slave, rising instantly as high as his chain allowed him, scrambled to open the gate for them. They passed through, talking softly together in languid voices, totally ignoring the slave crouched obsequiously to one side. Reaching the lawn, they stood for a moment as if in search of diversion. Then, to Jane's horror, they turned their slow steps towards the shade of the tree.

Jane crouched in the centre of their cage, her head buried between her paws as if, ostrichlike, she believed that if she couldn't see them, they couldn't see her. But, of course, she knew it to be wishful thinking, and she felt that she was glowing bright scarlet all over her body with embarrassment and mortification when the Ladies halted so close that she could hear the faint rustling of their silken garments.

Her cousin had no such inhibitions. Scrambling over Jane, she crouched at the bars, her front paws on the transverse bars as before, her rump quivering eagerly as if trying to wag an invisible tail, as Jane could plainly see through her slitted eyes.

    "Ah, you dear little thing!" She heard a voice coo affectionately. "Isn't she sweet, Samantha? And her twin sister, too! I never knew she had one!"

  Jane became uncomfortably aware of being stared at from both sides as the other Lady moved to stand opposite her friend. Blushing an even deeper crimson, she pressed her hot face into the pad between her paws, suddenly and uncomfortably aware of her unbathed body, and the faint but growing smell of the damp patch in a corner of her shared cage.

    "Poor little doggy!" a voice said. 'She's shy!" Then: "We surely aren't going to hunt these poor little things tomorrow? They won't last five minutes! I shall trap them both and walk them on gilt leashes!"

  With that, Jane felt a soft, scented hand stroke her gently down her back from her hunched shoulders to her upthrust buttocks. Before she could react to this impudent assault, she heard the steps of the two women move off and the creaking of wicker as they took their seats at a table.

  Anger overcame her shyness; how dare these languid, over-dressed women patronise her so! Five minutes indeed! There and then she made a vow that she would see  those soft, pampered, scented creatures fume helplessly in frustration at their failure to capture her. And her cousin, too; if Carol would follow her example! Raising her head a little she shot them an angry glare, but they were too interested in watching the approach of a slave bearing glasses and a tall, dewy pitcher on a silver tray to notice her defiance.

  The tables were rapidly filling up as more and Ladies, each clad in Edwardian grandeur, crossed the terrace and came down the steps to the lawn. The cringing slave at the gate was ignored by them all except once, when he was a little slow scuttling out of the way of a large, angular Lady. She, without seeming to change step, took a small coiled whip from her linen belt and brought it down across his shoulders. Then she strode on without a word to join her sister Mistresses.

  The cage was now completely surrounded by the softly chattering women, some of them less than ten feet away. Every Lady had paid the cousins a visit, cooing over them and petting the eager Carol, while Jane continued to crouch sullenly in the middle of their cage, often jostled and trodden on by her cousin as she shamelessly scurried about to attract the attention of the Ladies.

The sounds of ice tinkling in tall glasses, and the constant visits of sweating slaves bearing pitchers and bowls of fruit, made the cousins increasingly aware of their thirst. Jane, abandoning her futile attempt at concealing her body from the casual gaze of those around the cage, rose to all-fours and licked her dry lips with her tongue while Carol put her front paws on the bars and whined piteously.

During a lull in the conversation at the nearest table, a Lady rose and sauntered towards the cousins. Carol redoubled her whimperings, and the woman put a slim hand through the bars for Carol to nuzzle. Extending her other hand to Jane, she snapped her fingers in command. Almost against her will, Jane found herself at the bars, her hair being ruffled by the woman's scented fingers.

    "I'm sure these dear little things are thirsty," the woman said languidly. "We really ought to tell a slave to water them."

    "Oh, it's far too hot to bother about that now, Melissa," a woman at a nearby table said dismissively. "Do come and have some iced lemonade!"

  The woman shrugged; after ruffling Jane's hair absently a final time she wandered back to her friends, leaving Jane seething inwardly at this cavalier treatment.

  However, some such order must have been given, for a little later a slave appeared bearing a bucket of water, some of which he casually splashed into the cage's dusty trough. The cousins lost no time in slurping up the tepid water while all around them the women cooed affectionately at the sight of the two fair heads bent over their trough side by side.

  Feeling considerably better after slaking her thirst, Jane lay down on the padded floor and closed her eyes, affecting to ignore the chattering women a few feet away, though Carol shamelessly continued to paw at the bars and whine for attention at anyone who passed by.

  Jane must have fallen into a light doze, for she was abruptly brought back to full wakefulness by a painful jab in the ribs with something hard and sharp. With a little gasp of shock and surprise, Jane rolled over on to her back just in time to see the ferrule of a gaily-striped furled parasol withdraw through the bars. The hand that held is was black, as was the narrow aristocratic face peering down at her – a deep, soft, sooty black.

    "This one's awake now!" she heard a foreign-accented voice remark with satisfaction. "Come to Noire, little pale beast; come and lick my fingers!"

  Jane could scarcely contain her anger and outrage, but her cousin was having her hair ruffled and her back stroked by the narrow black hands, and she was uttering little mews of satisfaction and wriggling her rump in ecstasy. Suddenly aware that she was still lying on her back, exposed to the gaze of the chuckling onlookers, Jane scrambled to all-fours. She was unable to avoid the hand that seized her by her collar and pulled her to the side of the cage, nor the other hand that stretched through the bars and began to scratch her behind her ears.

    "They are so pretty, these little white animals!" the black women said. "I shall hunt them both down tomorrow; it will not take long. And then I shall find a good use for them."

  The watching women burst into laughter.

    "Come off it, Noire!" a nearby Lady said, to general agreement all round. "We all have plans for those two!"

  There and then it was decided that, if the pair were captured separately, one of their captors would sell her prize to the other.

                                                             CHAPTER FOUR

  The gathering broke up shortly afterwards as the Ladies went to bathe and change for aperitifs on the terrace before dinner. Jane and Carol, left alone in their cage in the early twilight, gazed after the elegant, departing forms. Carol whimpered in disappointment, then lay down and curled up to sleep, but Jane stayed on all-fours, staring at the brightly-lit mansion through the bars and plotting her vengeance on these patronising, pampered, over-dressed women. Hunt her down, would they? It wouldn't take long, would it? She'd lead them a merry dance!

  But worse was to come. An hour or so passed, and then the two slaves who had brought out the cage returned and wheeled it back into the little barn. There the slaves each took down from the wall a thin leather leash before opening the door of the cage. Carol, who had been expecting this, and had none of her cousin's inhibitions about being on public display, came out eagerly to have her leash clipped to her collar. But Jane hung back until a slave thrust a brawny arm through the bars at the top of the cage, and, grasping her collar, dragged her to the entrance. There she felt fingers fumble under her chin and heard the sharp little click of the leash's spring-clip engaging with the 'D' ring of her collar.

  The ensuing tug at her neck was stubbornly resisted. Jane heard the slave swear under his breath, then felt his knuckles grind into the back of her neck as he seized by her collar and dragged her forward by main force. With her head held down by the imprisoning hand, Jane didn't see the downward blow of the short riding crop which struck her painfully across her rump, nor the blows which followed it. But she felt the stinging pain they brought, and she gave a little yelp of agony at each one.

  Through her tears, she heard a dispassionate voice from above. "Bad girl!" it said, and when her leash was tugged again Jane followed meekly, occasionally wriggling her buttocks to ease the pain of the blows she'd received.

  The slaves led the cousins in single file out of the barn and into the flood-lit yard. Jane found it difficult to look ahead, for the slave leading her held his hand well down on her leash, but she could see the Carol's little white haunches some three feet in front of her as they crossed the concrete yard and went through a wide door into a dim corridor smelling of liniment, stale beer, tobacco smoke and male sweat.

  The coarse carpeting and dim lighting of the corridor gave way to damp, white tiling and a glaring light from above. Jane, when she'd recovered her vison, found that they were in a large communal shower room. There were no partitions, only shower heads jutting from the tiled walls under which three or four slaves were even then showering.

  Jane had never seen a naked man before, or been seen naked by any man but her father when she'd been a tiny baby. After a single horrified stare, she blushed to the roots of her hair as she was led behind her cousin across the centre of the brightly-lit tiled floor. But, to her relief, the slaves paid the two naked women being led amongst them on all-fours no attention whatsoever apart from a casual glance. So little was their appearance remarked that Jane, with a certain feminine perversity, found herself becoming annoyed by their indifference to the sight of her body, and she found herself giggling at her own contrariness.

  Reaching the wall, each cousin was tethered by a short chain ro a low-set ring in the wall. Then the shower-head above them was turned on, and their attendant slaves, after removing their sandals and thongs, began to wash them down.

  Jane endured the following indignities with all the fortitude she could muster. Once again, however, she felt obscurely aggrieved at the impersonality with which the probing fingers treated her body. When they all dried off in a narrow room set about with enormous hot-air blowers, a delicate scent was sprayed upon both cousins; on their fluffed-out hair, under their armpits, and between their buttocks and the tops of their thighs, all the time with the same maddening ordinariness as if they were indeed two little animals being prepared for presentation.

  Clean, dry and perfumed, the cousins were led away again, once more in single file. Somehow, after threading a maze of corridors, they found themselves being led along a wider, brighter passage, this time floored with soft, deep carpeting, up to a set of broad wooden double-doors. A discreet knock by the leading slave caused the doors to be opened by a slave standing behind them, and Jane found herself upon the same terrace that she'd been able see from their cage on the lawn below.

  The Ladies had begun to dine; some at single tables, other in pairs and threesomes, each attended by her personal slave. The smell of food reminded Jane forcibly of the fact that, apart from a single slice of toast that morning, she had eaten nothing all day. Her cousin was equally hungry, but she was accustomed to this scenario, as she showed by tugging on her leash with the  obvious intention of approaching the nearest table at which a Lady in lavender silk dined in solitary splendour.

  At a sign from this Lady, the slave leading Carol stooped to detach her leash, and she bounded forward to sit by the Lady's chair. Then she rose, balancing on the balls of her feet, her upper body raised and her mitted hands dangling downwards from her wrists in front of her breasts for all the world like a dog begging. The Lady smiled down at Carol, ruffled her bright hair with a casual hand, then picked up a morsel from her plate and offered it between the tips of her perfumed fingers. Carol took it neatly, gulped it down, then raised her head once more to stare insistently upwards at her smiling benefactor. Another morsel and another followed before the Lady tired of Carol's persistance and made an impatient gesture to the slave. He uttered a curt command, and Carol slunk back to his feet to be leashed once more.

  The cousins were then led from table to to table, Sometimes a Lady would signal for them to be unleashed and come to be fed; sometimes they were ignored. At first Jane could not bring herself to such humiliating conduct, but she very soon realised that this was likely to be the only opportunity that she'd be given to eat anything at all before the Hunt began in the morning. Swallowing her pride, she joined her cousin in her shameless supplication for scraps. They soon discovered that, when they begged side by side, their two golden heads together, the women gushed over them, plying them with morsels from their plates.

They were back on their leashes as the last course of fruit was brought in and it was then that the sharp voice of Lady Noire was directed at their handlers and they were led to the table where she was dining alone.

    "Come, little pale beasts! Come and beg for scraps from me!"

  Picking up an apple, she showed it to them before slicing it into several pieces and taking them up in her hand. But then, instead of offering the apple to them slice by slice, she casually tossed the the pieces to the floor at her elegant feet.

  Once more Jane seethed with anger; once more she swallowed her pride, the more so as her cousin was already down, her fore-arms flat on the floor, snuffling amongst the fragments. Jane joined her immediately, conscious all the time of the black woman's gaze from above. A peach followed, and then a pear before Lay Noire tired of them and waved them away.

  Her dismissal was the end as far as Jane and Carol were concerned, for they were led away down the steps to the lawn, around the corner of the house, and into the yard behind the kitchens. There they were taken into the barn and put back into their cage. Water was splashed into their trough, the barn door slammed shut behind the departing slaves, and the cousins were left alone in the dark.

                                                                           CHAPTER FIVE

  They were woken from a deep sleep, curled up together, by the abrupt opening of the door and the entry of their handlers. The 'T' shaped bar was put into use once more, and their cage dragged out into the fresh coolness of the dawn air.

  The slaves continued pulling the cage along, across the yard and on to the turf separating the mansion from the scattered woodlands of its surroundings. On and on they went, lurching from side to side as the cage rode the bumpy ground, until they were two hundred yards outside the enclosing walls of the mansion grounds. Under a lone thorn tree the slaves left them and went back to the house.

  Sheep continued to crop nearby, unconcerned at the novel presence of two naked women in a cage. The two sheep-dogs came to investigate, poking their long muzzles through the bars. Carol shrank away in fear, but Jane returned the dogs' interest, sniffing and licking their muzzles and allowing her face and body to be thoroughly sniffed and licked by the dogs. All this was for a purpose, for she meant to be known to the dogs as harmless and for them to be her unwitting allies in defeating her hunters.

  The dogs departed, satisfied as to the harmlessness to their charges of the strange bitches in the cage, and Jane and her cousin lay down to wait in the faint but increasing warmth of the newly-risen sun. They were now outside the range of the portable transmitter that kept them on all-fours under the threat of paralysing agony and could have stood upright had their cage been higher; and that was a relief, for Jane had feared they'd be hunted on all-fours. She cocked an experienced eye at the sky. It had been a cold, clear night, and it would be a hot, windless, sunny day. So much the better; the prospect of a perspiring hunt in hot weather would dampen the ardour for the chase of the pampered creatures now slumbering in their soft and scented beds, and so would wind and rain; perish the thought that their delicate and elegant clothing should become damp and muddy! She glanced at Carol, regretting that she hadn't impressed upon her more indelibly the importance of doing exactly as she did, of copying her every action. But she was dumb now, and it was too late. She nuzzled Carol to rouse her and tried to communicate her concern with her eyes.

  The grazing sheep looked up, startled by the faint but growing sound of lusty male voices roused in song in the distance. A group coming across the turf from the house resolved itself into twelve slaves, stark naked and linked together by chains to their steel collars, and two attendant guards in thongs and sandals bearing sticks. At their head came Mistress Sarah's husband, Mark, the chief slave of the establishment, in his silver sleeveless tunic, his silver collar and carrying his staff of office in his hand.

The chained slaves were singing as they walked.

    "Heigho, heigho," they sang cheerfully, "it's to the hunt we go!" and so forth until they reached the thorn tree and formed themselves into a straggling line, with much surreptitious pushing, shoving and tripping of each other under the humorously disapproving eye of the head-slave.

    "Now, gentlemen!" Mark began, to ironical cheers and raucous ribaldry from his audience. "Now, gentlemen," he repeated, making the word drip with sarcasm, "you all know the rules. When I blow this whistle, you have an hour's grace before the Hunt starts. There's another hour of immunity an hour before dark, when food will be left for you in the usual clearing. There won't be enough to go round; but that won't matter. I confidently predict that all you knock-kneed dead-beats will be captured and in your cages long before then!"

  Jeers and boasts greeted this announcement, and he grinned broadly. Jane looked on in astonishment, amused in spite of herself by the spectacle of these sturdy middle-aged men, jovial and self-assured. She began to suspect that, just as with herself and Carol, these men enjoyed their roles, even if they didn't seem to be taking them entirely seriously.

  The chains linking the slaves' collars were removed, the whistle was blown, and the 'prey' bounded off across the turf to the the shelter of the woods, laughing and exchanging badinage as they ran. Then the door of the cage was opened, and Mark and the two guards walked off without a backward glance.

CHAPTER SIX

  Jane was first through the door, closely followed by her cousin. Tentatively, they stood upright, then Jane led the way at a loping trot over the turf into the woods. Once under the trees her careful studies of the maps was put into play immediately as she wound her way through the trees to a little dell through the middle of which ran a tiny, sparkling stream. There they drank their fill before rising and moving deeper into the woods until Jane found a stagnant pool. There, under Carol's disbelieving eyes, she flopped down and rolled vigorously around in the mud at its edge. Rising, dripping with slime, she glanced significantly at her cousin. Carol, her face screwed up in disgust, gingerly followed suit. Then Jane again led the way at a fast trot through the wood.

  She quickly found what she was seeking; an area of lush, green grass that the sheep, nervous of venturing so far into the trees, had ignored. The mud had been drying on their bodies as they ran, and Jane, without more ado, fell down upon the grass and rolled about in it energetically. Carol watched in wonder, and when her cousin rose she followed her example doubtfully.

Carol found rolling about in the thick, cool grass very refreshing, but when she sat up, dizzy from her exertions, she found that her cousin had vanished! She stared around in confusion and dismay, then something moved against the greeny-brown background and Jane stood before her, smiling down at her. Carol scrambled to her feet; now she understood the purpose of Jane's actions.

    "Oh; you clever girl!" she thought admiringly. "Camouflage!" She glanced down at her own body, observing the way the brownish hues of the drying mud combined with the green stains from the grass to produce a curious striped, mottled pattern on her skin, then turned to her cousin with a smile of thanks.

  Jane did not linger. With a gesture to Carol, she turned and ran off at an easy loping trot through the woodland.

  Carol had no idea of where they were bound, and it was with trepidation that she saw the woods abruptly end and the open turf begin. But Jane, after a cursory glance around, dropped to all-fours and scrambled into the open, running quickly and easily on the balls of her feet and the tips of her mitts, and her cousin followed suit.

  The terrain they found themselves in was an area of broken ground, with tiny valleys and ridges, none more than six feet deep or high. Turf was the sole covering except for occasional little stands of small thornbushes on the ridges. Sheep grazed everywhere, ignoring the silent passage of the two cousins. The two dogs, lying in the shade under a thornbush, merely gazed at them in mild curiosity, recognising their scents and knowing these hairless creatures to be harmless.

  The broken ground ended in a sea of gorse bushes, so close together that they formed a continuous mass of green needles and mustard-yellow flowers. It was old gorse, ranging from four feet to six feet high in places, and Jane halted for a moment, seeking a way inside.

  Carol saw her cousin dart forward, drop to elbows and knees, and worm her way into a gap in the gorse. Jane's brown and green striped rump passed from her sight, and, dubiously, she followed.

  To Carol's relief the passage wasn't as painfully prickly as she'd feared, and in the gloom under the foliage the ground was clear except for a deep, soft layer of shed needles and dead leaves blown inside by the Autumn gales. She saw Jane facing her a few feet further in, then followed once more when her cousin turned and began to wend her way, silently and skilfully, through the maze of passages formed by the twisted trunks of the gorse plants.

  Carol found a surprising amount of head-room, from thirty inches rising to almost three feet, and they made quick progress in a direction she could only guess at until Jane came to a halt, flopped down on her belly, and began to inch her way forward.

Carol stayed where she was, uncertain of what to do, then her cousin gave an unmistakable gesture of one mitted hand, and Carol went down on her belly and wriggled forward to lie at her side.

  The sight before her brought a little gasp of astonishment from her lips. There, only inches in front of her eyes, the gorse came to an abrupt stop, They had climbed during their journey from the wood, and were now at the far edge of a little rounded hill, no more than fifty feet high and crowned with impenetrable gorse. But they had a view, from only a hundred yards or so, down over the low surrounding wall into the big yard on to which the kitchens, the stables and the kennels opened.

  Carol gazed at her clever cousin in unfeigned admiration once more. She was beginning to have an inkling of Jane's plan.

    "What a clever thing she is!" she thought. "They'll never think of looking for us here!" And she nuzzled her cousin's shoulder in appreciation.

But Jane knew that only the first minor skirmish had been won in their battle against the Huntresses; she continued to gaze steadily downwards into the walled compound, taking mental note of all she saw. Beside her Carol, bored and drowsy, dropped off into a doze.

CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jane, her chin propped on her 'paws' watched the activities in the yard. Mistress Sarah's slaves were hard at work bolting together a row of six by six by six foot cages. There were a dozen in all; one for each of the hunted slaves. She expected little action as yet from the Ladies; by her experienced reckoning it was barely seven o'clock, and these pampered females would still be asleep in their perfumed boudoirs. Not until nine, or even ten o'clock, did she expect the Hunt to begin. The weather promised to be her ally, too, for it would be a hot and airless day. The Ladies would soon become too warm and uncomfortable, away from the cold drinks and the diversions of the house, to carry on their hunt much after eleven. Then they would retire to rest, then to lunch, then a siesta until the heat of the day diminished. Then they might come out again for a final hour or so before they took their aperitifs on the terrace.

  She stared with interest as the men in the yard; slaves of Mistress Sarah judging by their short white skirts, pulled out from a barn several carts. Jane counted them carefully. There were six in all, three two-seaters painted in gay colours of blue, green and red, and three light single-seaters; yellow, orange – and black; the last obviously the property of the Lady Noire. She frowned at the thought of Lady Noire, then brightened up as she realised the Hunters had made their first mistake. She knew that they had available for the Hunt only twelve slaves at the moment; if three pairs were used to pull the larger carts and three slaves to pull the smaller, then only three remained to be employed as 'hunting dogs' – and it was those she feared most.

  Settling herself more comfortably, she observed the 'ponies' being led from the stalls where they had spent the night. She grinned happily; these middle-aged men would not be at their fittest after a night spent on straw with their arms pinioned behind their back. And nor would the 'dogs'; they had been kennelled on all-fours. Now, as they were taken from their barred runs and dragged upright, they stretched their cramped limbs in obvious relief before their arms were strapped behind them. They were muzzled too; evidently their Mistresses didn't trust them not to escape their control once they were off their chains!

    "Good!" thought Jane. As far as the 'ponies' and their riders were concerned, she had no fears. Both she and her cousin could outrun them with ease, and they could thwart them by merely running into the woods and among the the trees where the carts couldn't follow. But the 'dogs' were more dangerous, though she was puzzled about how they were supposed to trap their prey.

  One by one, Mistress Sarah's house-slaves harnessed the 'ponies' to their allotted carts; the last, the one selected to draw the sinister black single-seater, was a tall and powerful black man, obviously the personal slave – or even the husband – of the equally sinister Lady Noire. Jane watched him with narrowed eyes before relaxing. Big and strong though he was, and skilled at directing him as his Lady was likely to be, she and Carol could outrun any man harnessed between the shafts of a cart!

  Nothing happened for some time, and Jane yawned as she watched. Then the the budding 'Dianas' made their appearance, and she gulped back her laughter.

  Exquisitely dressed in simulations of the hunting costumes of Edwardian Ladies in delicate pastel shades, some even wearing veils beneath their broad hats, they mounted their carts. Only Lady Noire, clad in black relieved only by a jacket of bright scarlet, was an exception. They even took a stirrup cup, proffered to them in silver goblets by obsequious slaves, before the wide gate was opened and they drove forth on to the open turf.

  Jane watched them disappear into the haze to her right, then she rolled over on to her back, crossed her arms behind her head, and closed her eyes – not in sleep, but in thought. Her chief concern was Carol; the programme of evasion Jane had planned demanded not only ingenuity and guile, but also endless patience and an infinite capacity for boredom, qualities that Jane had been obliged to acquire during her long period of imprisonment by her own dog. She feared, above all, some impatient indiscretion by her cousin that would result in her capture. Turning on to her side, she opened her eyes and nuzzled her cousin's dirty green-streaked hair affectionately.

Rolling back on to her stomach, she took up her watch once more. At about ten o'clock by her reckoning, the first of the carts came into view. Their hunt had been successful, for three slaves, their arms bound behind them, ran leashed behind three of the carts.

  Jane looked on as the slaves were led into the yard and placed each in one of the row of cages reserved for them. Half an hour later the rest of the Hunt returned, and with them five more slaves.

  This was what Jane had expected. The slaves, hungry already and quite content to be captured, were easy prey. Only four now remained at liberty, and probably none would survive the afternoon Hunt. But for now it seemed the Ladies were content. It was hot, and they would crave cold drinks. Then they would take a light luncheon and afterwards their siestas; only when the afternoon had cooled, at around four o'clock, would they return to the Hunt for the two hours before they took their aperitifs. Then they would have the added aid of the captives, perhaps as 'hunting dogs', perhaps as 'ponies', but Jane was unconcerned – at the moment, anyway. Intending to wait a couple of hours, then to take herself and Carol to drink from the stream in the full heat of the day, she wriggled back a little from the fringe of her cover, came to all-fours, and went into the gorse a few yards to urinate. After scraping debris over the damp patch of soil to guard against its future smelliness, she returned to her post where she rolled on to her side and fell asleep.

  Carol woke wondering where she was, and what she was doing lying in this dim, hot place. Then her memory returned and she glanced over at the sleeping figure of her cousin. She was hot, thirsty and bored, and her bladder needed relief. On all-fours she went further into the gorse to squat, then she carried on to the far edge of the gorse and looked down across the broken ground towards the inviting coolness of the woods. For a moment she considered returning and wakening her cousin, but dismissed the notion. Jane would come and drink when she was thirsty enough. Slipping out of the dimness into the full glare of the noon sun, she made her way across the turf and into the cover of the woods.

  For sometime she wandered among the trees searching in vain for the little stream she'd drunk from earlier. She found it, although at a different point in its course, and lost no time in going down on all-fours and lapping noisily at the cool water. Then she followed it downstream until it met another, larger stream where their confluence had built up a bank of soft sand under the bright water.

  Carol bathed herself thoroughly, delighting in her feeling of cool cleanliness. Climbing out at last, she stood in the hot sunlight to dry herself, then wandered off further into the woods. Soon she came across a little grassy bank, shady and fragrant with the smell of wild flowers. There she lay down and slept.

                                                                           CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jane woke at the time she'd mentally set: at about one o'clock in the afternoon. At once aware of the absence of her companion, she was not perturbed at first; no doubt Carol had wandered off into the maze of gorse trunks. Jane stretched where she lay, yawned, and rose to all-fours. Then she padded back under the dim, green roof of her hiding place to where she'd entered it, keeping a sharp watch for any sign of her cousin.

  She saw and heard nothing of Carol in her passage, and she emerged from the gorse to look down towards the woods still none the wiser. Jane scanned the fringes of the wood, still with the same negative result. Carol, she decided, had gone to drink.

  Jane moved swiftly and easily down the little depressions and over the tiny ridges over the rough ground. She ran on all-fours with the ease of long practice, her rear legs straight and her rump in the air, pausing every so often to lift her fore paws from the ground to enable her to raise her head and check her surroundings. Once inside the cover of the trees she stood upright and flitted like a ghost between the trunks until she reached the stream. There she drank, and, after drinking her fill she cast around for her cousin before realising the futility of the enterprise. Her belly swollen with the water she'd drunk, Jane trotted slowly through the woods until she reached an appropriate place to deposit her droppings, though she doubted whether either the Ladies or their slaves had the skill to tell from their condition how long they'd been there. Above all, she was determined that no signs of occupancy would be found anywhere near her hiding place. Then she made her way back to the gorse-covered hillock. Carol had not returned, and Jane lay down in her sentinel's postion over-looking the yard and dozed off.

  The first stirring of the cooler breeze that sprung up in mid-afternoon woke Jane. After relieving herself, she went back to her position to spy on the Huntresses. Carol was still absent, and Jane hoped fervently that she'd have the sense to remain hidden and still until the Hunt was called off for the day.

  Once more the carts drove out, this time with the addition of the slaves captured that morning in the roles of 'hunting dogs'. Jane was unconcerned; when they'd passed from her sight she wriggled quickly through the gorse and chose a vantage point which allowed her a view to the South.

  She saw the remaining slaves quickly rounded up; as she'd thought, the occasion was not wholly serious. And then she saw the capture of her cousin.

  The black cart had lagged behind the others on their triumphant way back to the Manor and was out of Carol's sight when she stepped blithely out from the cover of the trees.

The same cool breeze that had wakened Jane and caused the Hunt to restart had woken Carol too, and she trotted through the wood enjoying the fresh coolness of the air on her now clean skin. Despite being thoroughly lost, she had no fear of being unable to find their hideaway, for all she needed to do was to go out far enough on the open turf and look around her for the low, gorse-clad eminence where it lay.

  Reaching the fringe of the wood, she lay flat on the ground and wriggled forwards , congratulating herself on her caution. She, too, saw the brightly-coloured carts; she, too, saw the newly-captured slaves being led away leashed to the rear of the carts.

  After waiting ten minutes, as she reckoned it, she rose and walked confidently out into the open.

  Twenty yards, then forty yards straight out from the trees she came. The place she'd left cover from took the shape of a little bay, with narrow promontories of thin-scattered trees to her left and right. Carol knew that her goal lay to her left, for she could see its low summit, but instead of cutting through the few trees towards it, she chose to continue out into the open until she could walk around them.

  Jane could do nothing but watch with horror as the sinister black cart appeared around the point of the Southern stand of trees, moving at a walking-pace and attended by three 'dogs'. Carol was then two hundred yards from cover, and Lady Noire stiffened in surprise at the sight of her unsuspecting prey. Acting quickly and decisively, she waved her three 'dogs' off to her left; one by one they vanished into the fringes of the woods.

  The Lady's plan was obvious to Jane; she meant to infiltrate her 'dogs' along Carol's flank, then she would drive her pony after her quarry, forcing her further out onto the open turf or into the arms of the waiting 'dogs'.

  The unsuspecting Carol strolled on in the warm, turf-scented air, behind her, when she judged the moment was ripe, Lady Noire brought down her whip hard across the haunches of her giant black 'pony' and he leapt forward with amazing speed, straight for Carol, three hundred yards away.

  The breeze was in her face, and she heard nothing of the cart's advance until it was fifty yards behind her. She turned, startled, then raced away at full speed. Instead of angling off to the woods, using her greater agility to escape the lumbering 'pony', she ran straight on, trusting in her superior speed over the man handicapped by the weight of his cart and its driver.

  Then it was too late. At their Mistress's signal, the 'dogs' emerged from Carol's left, one a little ahead of her, one level with her and the third to her left rear. Forced further and further away to her right and open country, Carol ran with desperation. The two nearest 'dogs', fit and rangy men despite their years, gained upon her fleeing figure inexorably. Then Jane saw just how the 'dogs' trapped their prey. It was a brutally simple technique; they merely ran into Carol, knocking her from her feet. When she tried to rise, they pushed her down with their hips, knees and thighs. A quarter of a mile away in her aerie, Jane ground her teeth as she saw the black cart halt nearby and Lady Noire make a languid descent, walk over to Carol's prostrate body, and place a narrow, black-sandalled foot on her neck.

  The rest was quick. Carol, her fore arms strapped together in an arm binder behind her back, her face wet with tears, was leashed to the very front of the left-hand shaft of the cart. Lady Noire's whip rose and fell twice; once upon the rump of her black 'pony', once across the right buttock of her tiny captive. The cart moved forward, dragging Carol with it.

  Jane went back to overlook the yard again. There she saw her cousin led in and the 'dogs', their arms released, were dismissed to their cages, all of which would be occupied until the last fugitive, Jane herself, was captured. Lady Noire herself led her captive away, around the corner of the house and out of Jane's sight.

  Jane lay in deep thought, resolving her plans for the night. In a couple of hours the Hunt would officially finish for the day with an hour of immunity before sunset. At its beginning, a slave would be sent out with food to a prearranged spot, but Jane had no intention of going there in daylight. She would wait until after nightfall, when the nearly full moon rose at eleven o'clock. Nor did she intend to rely on the few morsels of food they would provide in this manner; she had a much better and more attractive alternative in mind. Curling up, she prepared herself for sleep.

  She was awake to see the moon rise, and, after half an hour, she judged there was enough light for her to depart her hiding place. Slipping surely through the gorse trunks, she emerged into the open and trotted over the moonlit turf secure from observation. In the little glade designated for the purpose she found the small heap of food left out for her. It was pig meal, as she'd suspected, coarse, fibrous and smelly; and there was little enough of it. But she ate it anyway; she didn't want her prime source of food to be suspected. Then she trotted confidently away towards the dark bulk of the Manor and its outbuildings.

  She found the entry to the yard that she'd suspected; through an outlying orchard. But first, a hundred yards from her destination, she dropped to all-fours lest the little transmitter was switched on. Pushing aside the flimsy wicker hurdle set there to deter the sheep from entering, she came out into the yard. Crouching in the deepest shadows she could find, she waited patiently.

  Jane smelt the fox before she saw it, then she watched as it slunk cautiously into the yard and up to a plastic bin. Expertly, it rose on its hind legs and knocked off the plastic lid. With its front paws hooked over the edge of the bin, the fox pulled it over, releasing a flood of food scraps over the floor. Its head lowered, and it snuffled up those that it fancied with feverish hunger.

  Long after it had gone, Jane came out of cover. She knew the fox would spurn all the vegetable scraps, and she made a good meal of what the fox had left. She had no qualms about it; after all, she'd lived for months on what the dogs she'd lived with had left her. Licking her lips, she looked around at the moonlit cages in which the captured slaves were snoring, then went in search of her cousin.

  Padding along the corridor in the stables off which the pony stalls opened, she peered through the barred doors. But, though several 'ponies' were tethered in them, none was Carol. The door to the small barn in which their cage still stood was open, but the cage itself was empty.

Jane sat upon her haunches in the moonlight. Perhaps her cousin was at that moment curled up asleep, chained to the wall, on the thick, soft carpet of Lady Noire's bedroom, now the lapdog of her captor, a fate Jane had sworn to avoid. Around the corner, in a little yard of its own, was a lone cattle pen of concrete and steel, and Jane padded over to investigate. Over in the corner formed by the junction of two walls, something bulky lay upon a pile of straw. Jane lay on her belly and wriggled beneath the horizontal steel bars. It was a tight squeeze, but she managed it at last and crawled over the concrete floor to the corner where the figure lay.

  It was indeed her cousin, but a brief examination told Jane that her vague hopes of being able to rescue her were foiled in advance. Carol's face was strangely blank in the moonlight, its lower portion was covered by a leather muzzle, and she was blindfolded, too. Her ankles were linked by a short, thick chain between thick leather ankle cuffs, and she was chained by a six-foot chain from her collar to a steel ring set about four feet high in the wall behind her. None of these could Jane remove with her animal-helpless paws; for that matter she couldn't even open the gate of the pen. She nuzzled her cousin's shoulder, trying not to weep at the sound of Carol's heart-broken whimpers. Her cousin rose clumsily to her feet, and Jane was about to follow suit when she realised that the tiny switch on her cousin's collar was turned off. But she tried to rise all the same, only to fall back to all-fours with a grunt of pain. Hopelessly, Jane stared up at her cousin, tethered blind and helpless in her pen. She stayed with her as long as she dared before slipping away with a heavy heart, raging at Lady Noire's cruelty.

  It was some consolation to see the return of the dejected Ladies the next morning from their fruitless quest, but while they were away Jane had been treated to the spectacle of her cousin being exercised, walked slowly back and forth on a short leash on a stretch of turf by the yard gate, still blind, muzzled and hobbled. Worse for her was the return of Lady Noire in her black cart. Dismounting, she tossed the rins to a waiting slave, than signalled the slave leading Carol to let go of her leash. Carol stood uncertainly, not sure of what was happening, and Lady Noire flicked her on her lower left thigh with her whip, causing Carol to utter a little stifled gasp of surprise and pain.

  Lady Noire continued to torment her blind and helpless captive, walking silently round and round her, flicking her with her whip from every angle until Carol, confused and terrified, tripped on her hobble and fell down. Hauled brutally to her feet by a slave, she was led off into the yard while the watching Jane wept with fury.

  Later, in the full heat of early afternoon when she was confident that the the Ladies would be asleep, Jane slipped away to drink and to empty her bowels in the spot she'd chosen far away from her hiding place.

  It was really hot now, and airless, and the sky held a high haze. The weather-wise Jane anticipated a thunderstorm. She was not far from her own country, the pattern was familiar, and a mischievous idea came to her.

  Deliberately, she washed herself clean in a stream, then, instead of returning to the gorse-covered hill-top when the air cooled, she wandered as far from it as possible, loitering in the open, her eyes fixed in the direction of the Manor.

  When the gaily-painted carts came into view Jane's little pink body was clearly visible against the background of the woods. Faint cries of triumph came to her ears, and the 'ponies' were whipped into a run. The 'dogs', now numbering fifteen, spread out into a hollow concave crescent and ran towards her. She let them get within two hundred yards before she affected to notice them for the first time. Turning, she loped into the woods in simulated terror.

  There, on the broad paths and among the thick undergrowth, Jane led the Hunt on a merry dance, flitting silently along in contrast to the crashing of the clumsy male bodies of the 'dogs'. Occasionally she showed herself, luring the Hunt deeper and deeper into the woods while all the time the sky above them grew darker and more ominous.

  Jane felt, rather than heard, the first rumble of thunder. A sudden breeze, hot as from a furnace, stirred the tree tops, and Jane went to ground under the thick cover of a large clump of bracken and brambles on the edge of the large clearing in which the Hunt, tired and angry, had gathered. Within minutes she heard a far off sound, rapidly nearing, as if of surf on the shore, and she grinned happily to herself in anticipation.

  The first huge raindrops pattered down simultaneously with an earth-shaking clap of thunder directly overhead. Jane heard the Ladies cry out in fear and outrage before the downpour blotted them out of her vision. The rain stopped abruptly, the temperature dropped, and hail, borne on the South-Westerly gale, lashed the clearing, turning the muddy ground into a seething mass of white. When it stopped, as suddenly as it had begun, the Ladies were huddling under the inadequate shelter of a large oak tree, their delicate Edwardian-style finery soaked and muddy, their flimsy parasols tattered. The 'dogs' had dispersed in all directions seeking shelter while the unfortunate 'ponies', abandoned by their drivers and maddened by the stinging hail, had wandered off. Those who had not been tethered, that is; those like Lady Noire's giant black 'pony', left by her blindfolded as well as tethered, had no choice but to endure the storm. The black cart was within a few yards of Jane's hiding place; when the rain of the last flurry of the storm began again she crouched by the wheel furthest from the huddled group of Huntresses. The big 'butterfly' nut which held the wheel on the axle was easily turned with her mitted hands, and she loosened it as much as she dared. Then, without a backward glance, she ran off into the thinning rain.

  Dry and comfortable under the gorse, Jane lay at her ease and watched the sorry procession come into view. The sun was now fully out, and steam rose from the soaked and bedraggled finery of the dejected Ladies as their tired 'ponies' trudged along over the damp turf, their 'dogs' following in a single exhausted huddle. A full hundred yards behind them came the black cart driven by Lady Noire, even her huge 'pony' scarcely able to summon up a trot. Jane observed the nearside wheel keenly; was it developing a wobble? Apparently it was, for it suddenly dropped off its axle, causing the cart to lurch heavily to its side and tipping its driver unceremoniously on to the muddy turf. Jane revelled in her enemy's shriek of alarm and outrage, and giggled at the sight of her sprawling on the ground. Bereft of assistance, the furious Lady blindfolded her 'pony' and trudged away, leaving him to be fetched in later by Mistress Sarah's house slaves. Hugging herself with laughter, Jane watched her vanish around the side of the Manor.

  Lying on her back, her head resting comfortably on her crossed arms, Jane gave full vent to her elation. All alone, a tiny, naked, hunted animal, she had outwitted her numerous pursuers and rendered them ridiculous in their own eyes. Behind closed eye lids she played out the memory of Lady Noire's discomforture. Smiling, she fell asleep.

  Back in the Manor, bathed, perfumed and in clean, dry garments, Lady Noire stood in the Billiard Room thoughtfully examining the huge relief map of the Estate, complete in every detail, ignoring the occasional burst of outraged speech from the Drawing Room behind her where the other Ladies restored themselves with tea. They had only just reached the uncomfortable conclusion that their ordeal had been deliberately contrived by their quarry, but Lady Noire had been sure of it for some time.

    "Where are you, little pale beast?" she murmured. "Where are you hiding? Where are you getting all your food?"

  There was only one answer to that as a few questions to her Hostess's kitchen slaves confirmed. Afterwards, she walked past the row of cages in which crouched the unfortunate 'dogs' and thought that they, at least, would be keen to capture the sole survivor of the Hunt as until then they'd be kept caged at nights. She needed allies, but she needed somehow to enlist their aid without the other Ladies getting wind of her plans.

  Thoughtfully, she wandered into the small adjoining yard and into the pen where she kept her captive. The little creature shrank instinctively from her touch as she ran a hand down its flanks and thighs, noting the long, firm muscles under its grimy skin. She would come back and feed it later – she had already trained it to eat from her gloved hand – and tomorrow she would have it harnessed to a light racing cart. Then she would test its strength and endurance. But now she would consult Mistress Sarah.

  The pattern of the previous night repeated itself; Jane, having rolled thoroughly in the dirt beneath the gorse, went unnoticed as she scavenged for food and paid a regretful visit to her helpless cousin. Long before dawn she was back in hiding and asleep.

                                                                                         CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jane woke to see the carts being pushed out into the yard. Automatically she counted the 'dogs' in their cages. All were present, and she watched the 'ponies' being harnessed as usual. Then, to her surprise, another vehicle came around the corner, a light racing cart looking frail and spindly among the others. Harnessed between its shafts, bridled and bitted with her blinkers closed shut over her eyes, was her cousin, held on a short leading rein by a bored house-slave.

  Jane seethed with anger at the sight of her imprisoned cousin, waiting like a patient beast for its rider, and her rage redoubled when Lady Noire stepped out of the house and mounted the cart. The attendant slave passed her the leading rein and flipped open Carol's blinkers, then Jane saw the black-gloved hand holding the long whip bring it down on her cousin's back.

  The little cart moved through the gate at a slow walk. The whip came down again, and the pace increased to a slow trot. Jane was surprised; unlike her cousin she had never done any pony-play and she marvelled at how easily the little creature between the shafts pulled the weight behind it. But Carol had pulled heavier carts with heavier drivers many times before, though never for too long or too far.

  Lady Noire was pleasantly surprised at the strength of the little body before her. Experimentally, she whipped it into a fast trot, watching with approval the rhythmic pumping of its slender thighs and taut buttocks. It was a well-trained little beast, answering easily to its bit and responding willingly to the tiny flicks of her whip which told it when to exert extra effort. She was quite pleased with it; bringing the cart to a halt she dismounted to inspect its condition.

  The little animal was panting, but it was fast recovering its breath; obviously it was by no means exhausted. Lady Noire patted it casually on the rump, wrinkling her nose fastidiously at its strong odour of dung and sweat. Thinking that she must have it perfumed before she took it out it again, she mounted her seat and drove back to the yard.

  Jane watched all this with gritted teeth, and she continued to look on as her cousin was led away by a house slave and tethered in the shade to await further employment. The slave went off to fetch a bucket of water, then returned to water Carol from his cupped hand. Then all the the Ladies, elegantly attired as usual, came out and mounted their carts to begin the morning Hunt.

The patient watch from the gorse went on; Jane needed to know that all the Ladies and their carts, and, more importantly, all their 'hunting dogs' had returned before she left cover to drink.

  While she waited, she was witness to a further indignity inflicted on her cousin. A house slave came from the kitchen bearing a wicker hamper which he strapped to the rear of Carol's cart. With it firmly secured, he undid her tether, and, with casual brutality, pulled her head around to turn her cart before opening her blinkers and taking his seat behind her. Jane watched with rage in her heart as the slave took up the long whip from its holder and flicked her cousin across her rump. She saw Carol lean into her harness and the cart begin to roll slowly forward. The whip rose and fell once more and the cart picked up speed on its way out of the yard. Moments later Carol was pulling it along across the flat turf at a slow trot in the direction the Hunt had taken.

  Rigid with anger, Jane watched Carol disappear into the hazy distance. To see her little cousin treated as a draught animal in so matter of fact a fashion was unbearable, and mad schemes of rescue revolved in her mind before the knowledge of her own helplessness intervened. But she swore that Lady Noire would pay for this degradation.

  Jane would have been surprised that her cousin didn't at all share her feelings of outrage. Carol was well-used to 'pony play', although she'd never before even approached the length of time she'd been kept in this role so far, and she didn't mind pulling the cart; anything was better than being shut up all the time, blind and tethered, in her pen. She leaned willingly into her harness, responding accurately to the slightest pressure on her bit and not resenting in the least the occasional flick of the whip warning her of the need to exert more effort to tackle the little obstacles her driver could see ahead of her. Deep down, she was enjoying the freedom from inhibitions that being an animal brought; oddly, in this her preferred role, she felt no embarrassment about satisfying the needs of her body under the gaze of others, and the slave driving her was one of Lady Sarah's smallest and lightest.

  The young slave lounged in his canvas seat, happy to be spared the long, hot walk to the woods carrying the heavy hamper with the cold drinks for the Huntresses. He looked down at his mount with vague interest, noting the smoothly moving muscles of the shapely little back, buttocks and thighs as she trotted easily along.

    "A strong little filly," he thought with approval, flicking her on her left buttock to encoursge her to surmount a tiny hillock in their path.

  When he halted her in the shady clearing where the Ladies sat waiting for their cool drinks, he was glad to see that his mount was breathing easily and not sweating any more than might be expected. He had kept her at a slow trot for this reason, for he feared the wrath of her owner if he exhausted her new possession. Slaves unloaded the hamper and began distributing its contents to their Mistresses, and Lady Noire herself sauntered over to inspect her little 'pony'. The driver held his breath with apprehension as she looked over the strong little body, then breathed a sigh of relief as she turned away. But then he went rigid with fear as she turned back.

    "You, slave!" he heard her snap at him. "Come here!"

  He walk the few paces to her and prepared to prostrate himself at her feet as he'd been trained, but she forbade him with a curt word of command.

  Standing with his eyes fixed upon the grass at his feet, he shivered internally as she walked around him, her gaze considering and thoughtful.

  Finally, she ended her examination, dismissing him with a flick from her whip and ordering him to water his animal and drive her back to the Manor. There he was to ask his Mistress if the beast might be washed down and perfumed, for it was very dirty and it smelt. With relief he saw her walk away. Once the used glasses and empty flasks had been collected and the hamper strapped back in place, he lost no time in making his escape.

  Thus it was that Jane was able to watch her cousin returning, this time at a fast trot as the young slave, in sheer high spirits now he was relieved of the oppressive presence of the Ladies, whipped her onwards.

  On his return, and when he'd blindfolded his mount and tethered her in the shade, his fear returned. But a Lady had instructed him to address his Mistress with a request, and he had no choice but to obey.

  With trepidation, he approached the elegant figure sittting reading under the cedar trees at the edge of the lawn. Although he had been her slave for more than a year, he had never dared speak to her beyond a dutiful "Yes, Mistress!"

   "Sir Jasper leered evilly at the back of the divinely tall figure standing in the bay window of her Drawing Room. A hand toying with his cruel black moustache, he advanced silently upon her to take her by the arm."

    "But Guinevere was on the qui vive; swiftly she turned and confronted him, her bosom under her tight bodice heaving with emotion."

    "She drew herself up to her full height, her sapphire-blue eyes flashing.

    " "Unhand me, Sir!" she said haughtily."

    "Oh, wow!" thought Mistress Sarah happily, and took another gulp of her iced lemonade.

  Then she frowned and cast her eyes down on the prostrate figure that had appeared at her feet. She vaguely recognised him as one of her lesser slaves and wondered at his temerity in approaching her.

    "What is it, slave?" she demanded sharply, at the same time prodding him with a delicate shoe.

  Humbly he gave her Lady Noire's message, and waited patiently as his Mistress considered.

    "Of course I shall accede to the Lady's request," she told him. "And you shall fulfil it. But not now. She has put the beast at my disposal for the present, and it will be useful in sparing the time and energy of my slaves. There will be letters to be taken to the Post Box later, and perhaps other errands it can help them perform. You shall wash it down and clean it when the Hunt returns this evening as its Mistress may desire to drive out before or after dinner. Now go!"

  She returned to her book, ignoring the slave who came to all-fours and backed away from his Mistress, only rising to his feet when he was several yards off, and even then walking away from her in reverse, not daring to turn his back upon her.

  The Hunt returned, empty-handed and disconsolate, and the various Ladies went off to bathe and change for luncheon. Afterwards they would take a siesta, and after tea the Hunt would set forth again in the cooler air of the late afternoon.

  At about one o'clock, in the full heat of the day, Jane left her hiding place to drink as usual. She felt perfectly safe, having carefully counted the Ladies as they returned and checked that all the 'dogs' were back in their cages.

She drank her fill, then trotted off to the place she'd chosen to deposit her droppings, far away from her temporary home. On an impulse, she then washed herself all over. It felt good to be clean, and she could easily renew her camouflage. Unwilling to return to the hot and stuffy gorse, she wandered at length in the cool woods. Finally arriving at a spot North of the Manor where the paved road to the Lodge gates ran between pollarded trees.

  The country hereabouts was much more open, but Jane, having examined the mettle of her opponents, was confident that she easily outrun any of the 'dogs' if she was to be spotted.

  She lingered long in this open country, even going as far as the Lodge past which she and her cousin had driven a few days ago where she spied upon the Lodgekeeper and the chained slave whose task it was to open the heavy gates on demand.

The first breath of cooler air told her that the Hunt would soon commence, and she slipped away from the lodge and struck out across the smooth turf towards the woods from which she would regain the gorsey hillock unobserved. Observing a flicker of movement from the corner of an eye, she turned to see her cousin being driven along the paved track towards the Lodge.

  Carol came on a fast trot, whipped on by her driver, a slave bigger and heavier than her previous one. He would be punished if the letters he'd been entrusted with missed the next Post, and he plied his lash unsparingly. Jane wept with rage, but there was nothing she could do.

  The pattern of events repeated itself; the Hunt grew more and more disheartened and angry, and Lady Noire spent long hours studying the big relief map and revolving plans in her mind. The 'dogs' were frustrated in their unusual roles, longing for the elusive little animal to be captured allowing them to return to serving their respective Mistresses. Mistress Sarah had been concerned that Jane, virtually unseen since being released with her cousin from their cage, might have been injured and incapacitated, but the scanty food left for her disappeared every day, and a little pile of fresh droppings was deposited daily in the usual area.

  Two mornings later, Lady Noire had perfected her plan for Jane's capture.  Just as dawn was breaking, six of Mistress Sarah's slaves, grumbling sotto voce at being deprived of their thongs and sandals and being mitted, took the place of six of the 'dogs' in their cages. Then the latter, well briefed by Lady Noire, sped off into the early daylight.

  Later Jane watched her cousin trot along the track to the Lodge between the shafts of her car. She seemed to make that journey frequently, and today she looked cleaner than usual. Her hair had been pulled back, appropriately enough, into a 'pony tail' secured by a bright red ribbon; for some obscure reason this act of decoration angered Jane afresh. Then she looked on as the Hunt left and settled down to wait patiently for its return.

  After an hour or so, her cousin, now returned from her errand to the Lodge, was driven across the turf with the usual cool drinks, then, after an interval, driven back again.

                                                                                              CHAPTER EIGHT

  Far beyond Jane's sight, a tarpaulin in the load bed of one of the two-pony carts was pulled back, and the slight figure of Mistress Sarah's young slave was revealed. He was quickly hustled away by Lady Noire. Fifteen minutes later he stood before her, clad in an ensemble of her old clothing. Black trousers, black satin shirt, scarlet jacket, black veil under a black hat with a scarlet band, long black gloves covering his hands, from a distance he had a more than passing resemblance to Lady Noire. Without a qualm, she sent him off in the company of her colleagues, driving her great black 'pony'. She made the rounds of the waiting 'dogs' she'd spirited from the Manor that morning,  giving them the ropes and nets brought out, along with certain other equipment, under the tarpaulin along with Mistress Sarah's young slave. Then she settled down to wait for her prey, hoping that the 'dogs' would be able to use their gear effectively with their clumsy mitted hands.

  At her usual hour of one o'clock, Jane did a final count of the 'dogs' and 'ponies' in the yard. All were present and correct, and she'd seen all the Ladies return. Slipping easily through the gorse, she ran over to the woods and through them to the stream.

  The first pair of 'dogs', well hidden on either side of the path, watched avidly as the small, brown and green streaked figure flitted silently past them. Heeding their instructions, they waited until it was out of sight before rising and following.

  The next pair of 'dogs' were passed by the oblivious Jane, lulled into a false sense of security by her previous immunity; behind her they spread out on either side of the others. Then one of the 'dogs' uttered a peculiar bird-like whistle; ahead of them the third pair of 'dogs' left their cover and walked openly down the track towards the oncoming Jane.

  Rounding a bend in the track, Jane saw them and turned to run. The net clumsily thrown by the first of the 'dogs' fell over her head and shoulders. The end of a rope thrown by the 'dog' opposite fell neatly into his 'paw'; together they sprang forward and wound the rope around around their quarry. Soon Jane, trussed and and helpless, was being carried by six pairs of triumphant hands to where their Mistress sat.

  The Lady Noire smiled at the sight of Jane, sprawling at her feet. At her signal, two slaves, mitted 'dogs' no longer, seized Jane by her wrists and ankles while the others removed the ropes and net which bound her. Thick, padded cuffs were strapped around her ankles and wrists, and linked together with short steel clips. Then her wrists and ankles were linked together. A muzzle and a blindfold rendered Jane completely helpless, and the slaves withdrew, flexing their freed fingers and smiling with satisfaction.

  Lady Noire looked down at the prostrate body of her captive, blind, muzzled and helpless at her feet. The little beast seemed even smaller with the ankles of its fore legs linked to those of its hind legs. She rolled it on to its back with one narrow, elegant foot and placed the sole of her shoe upon its neck in token of her possession. Then she flicked it casually with her whip, noting the little start and gasp of shock and pain and the angry red welt that appeared on the flesh of its uppermost buttock. Continuing to flick its body with her lash, she spoke to it thoughtfully.

    "So, little pale beast, I have you both now. Shall I harness you to my cart alongside your sister-animal? Or shall I keep you as my lap-dog? You will make an amusing little pet once I have tamed you. You shall eat from my hand and sleep at the foot of my bed, and I shall walk you on a scarlet leash. But we shall see," she went on."Perhaps you will be more useful to me as a pony. Have you been trained as a pony, little pale beast? I do so hope not!"

  Jane sobbed silently into her stifling muzzle, trying not to react to the endless painful little blows from the whip of her tormentor. But worse was still to come. Lady Noire sent off one the slaves to fetch her cart. When he returned, driving her big black pony, two of the burliest slaves took up a long pole, padded at each end. Jane couldn't resist a sigh of relief as the link between her fettered wrists and ankles was removed, then she felt the smooth wood of the pole slide past the insides of her fore arms and lower legs. And then she was hoisted from the ground as each slave lifted the pole and placed the padded ends on a broad shoulder. Dangling from the pole by her wrists and ankles, her head lolling downwards, Jane was carried back to the Manor feet first like a captured wild animal.

  Jane knew nothing of the excitement and glee of the Hunters, particularly the 'dogs', now released from their cages and allowed to shower, put on their thongs and attend to their Mistresses again. She was dumped unceremoniously on the hard ground and left alone. In a far corner of the yard, her blind and tethered cousin was aware of the excitement and wondered vaguely what it was all about.

  An hour later Jane was freed of the pole and dragged roughly to her feet. Her arms were pinioned behind her back and forced into a leather arm binder. Her muzzle was removed, and a bridle buckled around her head. She felt cold steel at her lips, insisting on entrance, and she clamped them firmly together until a large hand closed over her nose, forcing her to open her mouth for air. Then the bit was rammed between her teeth and secured behind her head. She felt fingers at her cheek, and heard the click of a halter being attached to a ring of her bridle. There followed a sharp, powerful tug on her bridle, and she staggered forward in response, discovering that her legs were still hobbled in the process.

  Jane walked beside her handler, silently sobbing with rage and humiliation, knowing that the arm binders pulled her shoulders back, thrusting out her breasts; knowing that every intimate detail of her body was exposed to the casual gaze. The slave who led her so easily was big and burly, he held her halter high up by her bridle, and Jane could feel the heat from his large hand on her cheek while the hairy skin of his brawny fore arm brushed across the top of her shoulder.

She was halted, and fingers fumbled at her waist, buckling around it a wide, heavy leather belt. Outraged that they intended to put a harness on her, Jane struggled violently, only for her handler to cuff her on the side of her head with a heavy hand.

    "Stay still, you little brute!" he told her.

  Her head ringing with the force of the blow, Jane stayed as still as she could bear while the hard male fingers continued their task. She shivered as the rounded strap from her belt which divided into the broad shoulder straps was forced into the valley between her breasts. The diamond shaped leather carapace was fitted over her her solar plexus, stomach and groin; its upper corner just below her breast, its lower ending in her modest little bush of pubic hair. She gave a little squeal of outrage as the large oval steel ring attached to this corner of the diamond was positioned around the lips of her vagina. The ring was held in place by the two narrow straps which went between her crotch and up below the cheeks of her firm buttocks to her waist belt.

  Her harness secured and checked for tightness, she was led a short distance and halted again. Felling the fingers at her waist again, and realising that she was about to be hitched between the shafts of a cart, Jane uttered a stifled cry of anger. She struggled once more, and her reward was another stunning cuff on the head from the slave holding her. Very soon both slaves left her. She'd heard the slither of leather around wood and she knew that she was tethered by her bridle. Weeping with fear and rage, she awaited the next ordeal.

  It was not long in coming. Jane's keen ears heard the tap of leather soles and concrete and caught a faint whiff of perfume. Her blood ran cold; Lady Noire was near her. Come to gloat, Jane thought at first, but then she sensed movement and heard the soft sound of her tether being unwound from whatever it was tied to. Then her head was pulled around gently but firmly, and instinctively Jane followed, the light cart bouncing behind her.

  After she'd been turned in a half-circle, she sensed movement near her face, and smelt Lady Noire's perfume from a closer range. Her blinkers suddenly flipped open, and she screwed up her eyes against the dazzling light. Then the cart behind her sagged and lurched alarmingly, and she knew that her enemy had mounted it.

  Her bit was jerked in her mouth, and she gasped in shock as the whip flicked her upon her left buttock.

    "Walk on!" The curt voice was that of Lady Noire, but Jane, seething with anger, stayed stubbornly motionless.

  This battle of wills could have only one outcome; a few minutes later, whimpering from the pain of the whip-blows, Jane began walking forward.

  Lady Noire watched the straining back of her captive with satisfaction; the little beast was learning, as captive animals must, that the price of disobedience was pain. For the moment she kept it at a slow walk to accustom it to its limited vision and the weight of the cart it was drawing.

  Jane walked onwards in sullen fear of the whip at her back, surprised despite herself at the ease with which she was pulling the cart and its passenger along. The shafts, which had transferred part of the weight of the empty cart to bear down on her waist, were now weightless, allowing her to use all her strength to push into her harness. Her view of the world was very restricted; a narrow vertical slot permitting no vision at all to the sides. Because she was obliged to lean forward into her harness she could see very little before her except for a few feet ahead, and despite herself she automatically obeyed the light pressures on either side of her mouth telling her which direction to take.

  Behind her, Lady Noire nodded approvingly. The little beast was learning fast. Leaning forward in her seat a little, she brought her whip down casually across the slender haunches of her mount.

  The result was all that could be desired. Instinctively Jane jerked forward against her harness to get away from the pain; as a result the cart gained speed, and, after a further blow, she found herself slowly trotting across the turf.

Lady Noire smiled. For a moment she considered whipping the little beast into a full trot, but these were early days. Instead, she drove Jane in a large circle four hundred yards in radius and back into the yard for a further stage in her taming. Throwing the reins to a waiting slave, she gave him a few terse orders. When she'd left, the slave unhitched Jane from the cart and led her away by her bridle, her blinkers closed over her eyes.

                                                                                               CHAPTER NINE 

  On their brief journey Jane was led within ten feet feet of her cousin, though neither were aware of it. But Jane felt the concrete beneath her feet alter to smooth stone, and by the change in the atmosphere she guessed she'd been taken indoors. Down a ramp they went, round a sharp corner, and down another long ramp, passing as they went the various dungeons in which the Ladies punished their slaves, all unseen by Jane but producing a shiver of fear in the slave who led her.

  A small cellar of about fifteen feet square was their destination. There they found Mistress Sarah's slave carpenter and her saddle and harness maker, both lent to Lady Noire for her purpose. A thick rotating circular pillar stood in the centre of the room; obviously it was meant to be turned by the long capstan bar which jutted from it horizontally. This the carpenter had modified to be adjustable for height, and when the saddle maker had clamped a bulky leather yoke around Jane's neck and checked that it rested comfortably upon her shoulders the yoke was clamped to the bar. Then the bar was adjusted for height and secured in place. When they were satisfied, they left her alone in the darkness.

  Jane took what little stock of her position she was able. Her neck and shoulders were rigidly held by the thick padding of the yoke, and the bar had been set at such a height that she was bent forwards a little at the hips. The air was hot and humid, and she could feel a stone floor beneath her feet. And that was the sum total of what she could learn about her condition. Closing her eyes behind her blinkers, she tried to get as comfortable as she could.

  The sound of approaching feet brought her to full awareness and she listened carefully. There was the clack of of a woman's leather soles, the heavier sound of a slave's sandals, and the light patter of bare feet. They stopped a few feet from her, and she stiffened in apprehension.

  Lady Noire smiled mockingly at her captive before making a cursory gesture at the sandal-shod slave holding the his barefoot fellow on a leash. He led his charge to the rotating central pillar to which the capstan bar was fitted and locked a chain to his steel collar. Thrusting a pony-whip into his hand, he left him and joined Lady Noire in the doorway.

  She nodded curtly at the chained slave with the whip; at once he brought it down across the taut protruding haunches of the little woman yoked to the bar.

  Lady Noire smiled again as Jane uttered a little gasp of shock and pain and began to move forwards, pushing her shoulders into the yoke. She waited as the slave brought Jane up to a slow walk before he pressed one of the switches on a panel fixed to the central column. Jane slowed a little, then resumed her pace, encouraged by a flick from the slave's whip. Another switch was pressed, then another. As each switch was pressed, the load on Jane's yoke increased, and the slave only stopped when she was panting lightly, her body leaning fully into the yoke. Satisfied, Lady Noire and her attendant went away, leaving the cellar door open to provide a dim light for the tethered slave to see his target.

  In the elegant salons of the mansion large fans hanging from the ceilings began to turn slowly. The elaborately dressed Ladies glanced up at them, welcoming the stirring of the warm, scented air. They spared not a thought for whoever was trudging round and round like a blind ox in the darkness far below their feet.

  Jane plodded on and on, in constant terror of the unseen whip at her back. After a time she fell into a sort of hypnotic trance in which the only realities were her steady panting and the smooth movements of the muscles of her calves, thighs, buttocks and back, broken into now and then by the lightning-swift sting of the lash. The demands of her full bladder gradually broke into her reverie and she automatically began to slow to a stop to empty it. Quick as thought, the lash fell on her back. Stifling a sob of despair, she increased her speed again. Finally she had no choice; still keeping up the same steady pace, she urinated, the warm liquid splashing down between her thighs with each step.

  Not until the last Lady, yawning delicately behind her delicate paper fan, had gone to bed was Jane released, and then only to be tethered in a corner of the cellar on a heap of dirty straw. She was fed and watered, then left in the darkness to sleep. It seemed only minutes passed before she was yoked to the bar again and trudging on her endless journey. This time she was turning the fans in the kitchens, and the sweating slaves, preparing breakfast for their Mistresses, glanced up and were grateful.

  Lady Noire kept Jane to her task for three endless days until she judged her spirit had been broken enough for her to be brought back into daylight. This time, when Jane was harnessed to her cart, she obeyed immediately. Lady Noire drove her round for an hour or so; satisfied with Jane's new docility and obedience, she generously put her, along with her cousin, at the disposal of Mistress Sarah and any other Lady who wanted a drive or had errands for their slaves.

  For the two cousins the next few days became a routine of being driven here and there by various people, both Ladies and slaves, most of whom they never even saw. Kept blindfolded except when actually being driven, the first warning they would receive was the sound of footsteps, usually those of a slave, then the sound of their tethers being untied from the fence. Their heads would be wrenched round and they would be led forwards a few feet before being halted again. The opening of their blinkers and the lurching of their carts would come next, then the slapping of their reins on their shoulders. A flick of their driver's whip on a buttock and Jane and Carol would lean into their sweaty harnesses and pull their carts forward, faster and faster, obeying the whip at their backs and the guiding pressure of the reins on their bits.

  Carol was in her element at this treatment, revelling in being a 'real' pony, her shyness at being observed relieving herself forgotten. But Jane still writhed occasionally at the mental picures she couldn't help summoning up; of herself, naked and harnessed between the shafts of a cart. A further insult was inflicted when, like her cousin's, her own hair was scraped back into a pony-tail and secured with a bright red ribbon. That she should be so bedecked at her Mistress's whim was unbearable.

  When Lady Noire drove her (and she always knew by the whiff of subtle scent which came to her nose, and by the firm, self-assured touch on her reins) Jane still seethed with humiliation. Sometimes she raged at the trivial natures of the errands she and the slave who drove her were continually sent on, errands on which she was made to run a mile each way to bring a bucket of ice for the Ladies' drinks, or a fan, or a book some Lady had forgotten to bring back from some secluded glade where she'd been reading. The track to the Lodge became boringly familiar to her, so much so that she knew every little bump and hollow on its surface. Often she would see her cousin pulling her own little cart, panting and sweating like herself. Her vision, when she was allowed it, was firmly restricted by her blinkers, but occasionally some careless slave would forget to blind her before tethering her, and then she would see the Ladies walking elegantly along the raked and weeded paths around the Mansion, or sitting at tables on the lawn under the trees, sipping cold drinks while their slaves attended to their every whim, and then Jane would writhe anew.

  The days continued hot and sunny, the nights, which the cousins spent tethered in the same stall, were still and chilly. Occasional short-lived thunderstorms occurred, always in the late afternoons, and then Jane and Carol would be driven through the rain to recover oddments of discarded clothing, fans, parasols and the like while the Ladies, having been transported by their slaves back to the house in dry comfort and in good time, sat drinking tea on the terrace.

  But the worst times for Jane were the evenings, when the Ladies had dined. Before her meal, Lady Noire woiuld usually have her two 'little pale beasts' – as she would refer to them – harnessed side by side between the shafts of a two-seater cart in case she wanted a ride after dinner. Sometimes she drove them out, either alone or carrying with her a friend; sometimes she lent then to another Lady or Ladies. And sometimes they were left to stand in blind patience until a slave was sent to unharness them and put them away in their stall when the last Lady had gone to bed.

  One particular velvet-soft evening, sweetly scented with night-flowering shrubs, Carol and Jane had been left harnessed to their individual carts. Lady Noire and one of her friends, a certain Lady Bronwyn, drove them out for a ride, intending to stop en route and take their coffee and digestifs at a little gazebo half a mile away.

  Jane was vaguely wondering why she and her cousin hadn't been harnessed together that evening, and what their Mistress intended for them, when her halter was untied and she was led away. She felt the concrete of the yard under her feet change to the clipped turf of the lawn, then she was halted by the slave leading her. A moment or so later, she heard the distinctive lightness of her Mistress's feet on the turf, accompanied by a heavier tread. Her cart heeled under the weight of her driver taking her seat, then her blinkers were flipped open, dazzling her with the dim evening light. Allowed a moment to adjust her eyes she noticed the rear of her cousin's cart, above it the dark shape of her driver's back. Then the whip fell across Jane's haunches and she leaned obediently into her harness.

  She very soon realised that she was being driven by a Lady other than her Mistress. The other Lady was heavier, for one thing, and she was by no means as skilful in driving her as Lady Noire, sawing with the reins on Jane's mouth as she drove her uncertainly in the wake of the other cart and using the whip to punish rather than to encourage her.

  Jane was panting heavily when she caught up with her cousin, considerately brought to a stop by Lady Noire at the edge of the woodland. The two Ladies exchanged a few words, then Lady Noire flicked Carol's rump with her whip and drove her into the wood at a walk. Lady Bronwen's inexpert lash caught Jane painfully high on her back, and she uttered a little, stifled gasp of pain as she pulled the cart into motion. Head down, she followed the other cart into the wood.

  The two Ladies drove around the wood for half an hour or so before going to the gazebo where slaves was waiting for them with coffee in a silver flask and a selection of digestifs. Little coloured lights had been strung in the branches of the nearby trees, and the rendezvous presented an almost fairy-like appearance as they came to it from the gloom of the wood. With glad little cries the Ladies dismounted and took their seats at the marble table after tossing the reins of their ponies to an attendant slave.

  Carol and Jane waited patiently, tethered side by side to a sapling several yards downwind from where the Ladies sat. Jane had not been blindfolded on this occasion, and both Ladies were fully in her narrow field of vision though she couldn't see her cousin only a few feet away. She could smell the rich aroma of their coffee and saliva flooded her mouth; treated since their arrival as animals, neither cousin had drunk anything but water. She wondered just how long they had been at Mistress Sarah's, and how long they were to remain. The Feminine Domination session was to last three weeks, and she unsuccessfully tried to count how many days must pass before she and Carol resumed human roles again. But the days since she had been trapped by Lady Noire and made into a draught animal for her convenience blurred into each other, so alike in their drudgery as to be identical. A tiny scream of dismay from Lady Bronwen caught her attention.

    "Oh dear!" she wailed. "I've left my cigarette holder on the terrace!"

  At once her companion snapped a curt order at a slave and he walked briskly over to where Jane and Carol stood. Seconds later Jane was being driven at a fast trot back to the Mansion.

  This was not the only time that evening in which one or other of the cousins was driven off at speed to fetch some trifle or other considered necessary to the Ladies' comfort. Fresh coffee, more ice, a silken wrap for Lady Bronwen, who was feeling chilly as the evening advanced, all of these and more.

  At last the lateness of the hour persuaded Lady Noire's companion to return to the house for a nightcap before bed. She drove away with Carol between the shafts, leaving Jane alone with her Mistress and the slaves patiently waiting to clear away the debris of the evening. Lady Noire called out to her personal slave.

    "I shall go for a drive in the moonlight," she told him. "I may be some time. See to it that a bath is drawn for me, and a hot drink and Brandy await me on my return!"

    "Yes, Mistress!" he replied humbly. Striking him with her whip as a token of dismissal, she turned and walked slowly over the short, sweet-smelling turf to where Jane was tethered. Halting at her side, she ran her narrow hand down Jane's back and flanks.

  It was one of those occasions when Jane's blinkers had been closed over her eyes when her driver had left her. Too far from her Mistress to have heard her conversation, she'd had no notion of her intentions.She stiffened as the casual hand swept down her body, and she heard the unmistakeable voice of her Mistress.

    "I am not yet tired enough to desire rest, my little pale beast. You certainly are tired; but that is of no moment. I shall go for a ride, and you shall pull my cart under my direction. That is the way of things between a human being and an animal she has trapped and tamed!"

  Jane clenched her teeth on her bit at these insulting words. Her blinkers were opened to the straight-ahead position, then she felt her cart heel as her Mistress mounted it. The reins jerked her bit, the whip flicked her buttocks, and she leaned wearily into her harness and began to walk forwards.

  Whether out of an unlikely consideration for Jane's tiredness, or because she wished to prolong her own time in the cool night air, Lady Noire kept Jane at a slow trot, even allowing her to drop into a walk whenever there was an uphill slope in their path. Jane trudged on in that state of blessed indifference she had come to welcome; her vision limited to a few feet in front of her, automatically responding to the gentle pressures on her mouth which told her which way to turn and to the painful little flicks of the whip which told her when to exert extra effort. In this state of self-imposed hypnosis, it was some time before she realised that her Mistress was talking to her in her low, clear voice.

    "I have said that I have tamed you, little pale beast, but that is not really true.  Rather, I have trained you to obey me under fear of punishment. But, when I have truly tamed you – and I SHALL tame you, little pale beast – then you shall obey because your beast mind will not be able to conceive of any alternative to obedience. I shall make of you a friendly, docile, obedient little animal. I have not the time here and now, but you will come to me to be tamed when I command you; you and your pale beast of a sister, too|! But she will be easy to tame; she is very submissive. As for you; I do not think that you are submissive at all, and that will make my success the sweeter. But someone has tamed you in the past; I wonder who he was? I can see the invisible collar you wear; did he put it around your neck? Or did you do it at his command? You have been a real animal; and you shall be one again. I have you on an invisible leash, and you shall come to me when I call to you."

  Jane, panting as she drew her cart across a patch of rough ground, only half-heard this soliloquy, though its words were later to become engraved on her mind. The whip flicked her hard on her rump, and she broke into a weary trot.

    "Run, little pale beast; pant and sweat in yoiur harness!" she heard her Mistress say. "I grow chilly, and I want my hot drink, my Brandy and my bath before I go to my warm, soft, scented bed. And you; you will want to be given water and allowed to sleep in the straw of your pen. Run; little pale beast – run under my whip!"

  So saying, Lady Noire brought down the lash in a flurry of blows on the slender back and haunches before her.

                                                                                                 CHAPTER TEN

  Unknown to either cousin, Lady Noire and her entourage left the Mansion early the next morning. The long session was winding down; there were only five days remaining, and, while several new Ladies appeared to spend a few days with Mistress Sarah, more left than came. The weather grew hotter and the cousins spent much of their time yoked together in the cellar, turning the blades of the big fans in the house above them.

  Saturday was the day the session was to to end, and, by tradition, the Friday was 'Slaves' Freedom Day', the day allotted for the slaves to become used again to being fully clad ready to resume their normal lives. In the late afternoon of Thursday all the slaves were freed, including those under punishment in the dungeons, and the cousins too, although some of the Ladies made a little moue of displeasure at the prospect of being deprived of cool air in the Salons for the next two evenings. But their Hostess was obdurate; the 'animals' would be freed along with the slaves.

  Jane and Carol were led up from the cellar for the last time. They stood in dull astonishment as busy fingers undid the straps and buckles of their harness, as their arm binders and their bridles were removed at last. Finally, blinking in the sunlight, they found themselves standing unrestrained in the yard behind the kitchens among the bustling of cheerful slaves.

    "Welcome back, you two!" a kindly slave told them. "Use our showers, then see Perkins for your clothes. The Mistress wants to see you!"

  Their hands stole out to find each other, hand in hand they stared about them. No one was taking any notice of them at all; seeing the doorway to the slave showers they walked timidly towards them, strangely ill at ease at the novel feeling of being able to move around at will after so many days of restraint. But Jane's first moment of freedom, now that she had the use of her hands, was to remove the hated red ribbon securing her pony-tail and shake her hair free about her face even before she took out the little pastic gag imprisoning her tongue.

  Later, fully clean for the first time since their arrival, they went in search of the Butler. As they padded bare-foot along a thickly-carpeted corridor, Carol began to giggle.

    "Oh, Jane!" she whispered. "We're still naked – except for our collars!"

  To her delight, Carol saw her cousin blush a deep crimson all over her face and neck and down to her breasts. But her giggle was so infectious, and the total lack of interest shown by everyone that met so reassuring, that Jane began to giggle helplessly in response.

  Perkins, when they'd tracked him down in the Morning Room, gazed gravely at the two naked little women, only a twinkle in his eyes indicating his true feelings. A stickler for protocol, as a good Butler must needs be, he had decided that their true position, when they were not in role, was that of Ladies and therefore his superiors. True, they both wore collars, but he been assured that this was an affectation of certain young ladies and that he was to regard it as merely a mild eccentricity.

    "If the ladies would follow me," he murmured, "I shall show you to your suite where your, er, garments await you."

  His stately figure preceded them up a broad flight of stairs, along a lushly-carpeted corridor, and halted by a polished wooden door. Opening it, he ushered them into a luxuriously appointed Reception Room. Beyond that, in a delicately scented, entirely feminine bedroom, they saw their freshly-washed and pressed dresses lying upon the large, soft single bed. For the first time, he seemed a little nonplussed; a mere male confronted with feminine mysteries.

  "I'm told that these garments," he said, indicating the simple dresses, "are the only articles of clothing the Ladies arrived wearing – apart from your footwear, of course." He paused helplessly before continuing. "If the Ladies require additional garments ...?"

  Carol giggled.

    "Our dresses will be quite sufficient, Perkins!" she told him regally.

    "Very good, Miss Carol," he replied, scarcely hiding his relief at being able to change the subject. "Tea is being served upon the terrace where my Mistress will meet you later."

  Left alone, the two cousins wandered about examining their surroundings before taking another shower, this time employing the delicately scented soap left out for them. Then, after perfuming themselves lightly, they put on their dresses and sandals, giggling together at the novel feeling of light, cool silk on their bare bodies. Hand in hand before the huge mirror, they spent a few minutes in innocent admiration before their reflections, from the golden halos of their hair, still fluffed out from its drying, to the tiny gilt sandals on their shapely little feet. Still holding each other's hands, they made their way to the terrace.

  It felt odd to be seated on comfortable, padded chairs after so many days confined to either standing between the shafts of their carts or lying in the straw of their pen, and odder still to regard from the terrace the fence to which they has spent so many hours blind and tethered, draught animals patiently waiting to be driven away. Carol eyes glistened with her memories, but Jane gazed out sombrely, remembering her past anger and outrage. The words of her captor came to her mind. Perhaps, she thought, I am not really of a submissive nature. Then a further phrase of Lady Noire's presented itself. "You will come to me to be tamed when I command you" she had said, and Jane gave a little shiver at the memory. She was Jane, wild and free; she would not be a tame animal!

  Mistress Sarah joined them, accompanied by her slave-husband, Mark. Both congratulated the pair on their devotion to their roles and expressed unstinting admiration of their stamina. That evening, at the dinner in which the slaves joined their Mistresses and dined on human food, the cousins were feted by everyone present, sitting side by side on Mistress Sarah's right hand.

  Friday passed in a pleasant, restful haze, and on Saturday morning their Hostess herself drove them to the car park by the Lodge in a cart pulled by four laughing, volounteer slaves.

On their way home, Carol continued to marvel at their recent experiences, over and over again expressing her determination to repeat them. Jane, however, remained more circumspect; she did not altogether like being an animal, she decided. All the same, the little thrill that appeared whenever she thought about it refused to leave her.