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Trading Stocks for Bonds - how Linsey was collared
(Complete Short Story)
by Aurelius

Her teacup chinked against its saucer. Not once, but five or six timesin quick rattling succession. She was trembling and couldn’t hideit.

“I can pay you back,” Linsey Altmell pleaded passionately. “Youknow I can net that amount in just one year. I did it in 2002!”

Apart from a security man blocking the door there was only one otherperson in the plush office at 6:30pm on a Friday evening. Ranulph Markham,her boss and chairman of Markham Brandham Stockbrokers sat on the otherside of the large teak desk.

He frowned to indicate he did not share her optimism. “Miss Altmell,we’re talking about eight million pounds! Perhaps there is morewe haven’t uncovered yet. You are not in Nick Leeson’s league,and this company certainly won’t be going the way of Baring Brothers,but you have nevertheless wiped out almost one percent of my personalnet worth. Miss Altmell, a schoolchild could have handled these accountsbetter than you did, although perhaps not as deviously.”

Linsey gave up trying to drink her tea. The clattering of her cup andsaucer only served to incriminate her further. She placed them carefullyon the table and moved her trembling hands onto her lap.

Their eyes met. His, a sixty-five year old glazy blue, slightly baggyand wrinkled beneath; hers a vivid penetrating hazel, glistening withthe beauty of youth. She was hardly the most beautiful woman he’dever seen, but he thought her more attractive than most - a pleasantface, long brown hair, a slim body; and she knew how to dress well, anincreasingly rare thing in the modern age. For her part, Linsey had alwaysthought Markham rather good-looking in spite of his advancing years.

It had been hectic week on the markets and Markham was tired of talkingprices and profits. He valued his weekends, putting aside financial mattersto concentrate on his true passions. Closing up the file containing LinseyAltmell’s catalogue of disastrous deals he declared to himself thatthe weekend had just started.

“Am I fired?” Linsey asked, perplexed at why Markham couldn’tjust come out and say it.

“No. I’m not firing you. That would be too easy,” hereplied.

She squirmed awkwardly in her seat and ventured another question: “Soare you going to call the police?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Why bother? You might go to jail fora couple of years. Then you are released, you write a book and sell thefilm rights. Meanwhile I’m still eight million down. I might haveto close one of my charitable foundations.”

“So, you’re going to keep me on?” She asked, smiling,but a little surprised.

“Yes I am... after a fashion. You are an attractive young woman,with a pretty face and a nice body. Miss Altmell, I intend to have you.”

She became wide-eyed with shock and gave a nervous laugh, unintentionallymocking him. Her boss might be a rich and powerful man but she alwaysregarded him as a gentleman not a sexual predator. This didn’t suitthe mild-mannered chairman at all.

“This is a joke, right? It’s ridiculous! You’re tryingto blackmail me, and I have a witness to that effect,” she glancedat the impassive security guard by the door then looked Markham squarelyin the eyes. “You... can’t... have... me,” she snarled, “Iresign!”

Her witness was Cormack, Head of Security at Markham Brandham. Aftertwo years with the firm Linsey still didn’t know if it was his firstor last name. Like ‘Cher’ he used to joke, as only a man 6’5” talland built like a prop forward can. He was good looking, helpful and sociable,liked by everybody including Linsey, but everyone knew him to be fiercelyloyal to his employer. He did not return Linsey’s glance. Insteadhe looked at his boss, ready to carry out any instruction.

“You misunderstand me Miss Altmell.” Markham said, appearingnot to take offence from her comment, or the implicit ageism. “Ididn’t mean to suggest anything as crude as bedding you. I’mwell catered for in that respect already. What I meant was to haveyou, in the sense of owning you. Owning your body permanently.”

Linsey was stunned into silence for several seconds. “This is sick.” Shesaid, rising from her chair. Cormack immediately moved towards her.

“Sit!” Ranulph Markham barked. Linsey recoiled at the surprisingferocity of Markham’s command. She sat down again whilst Cormackbacked up to his position by the door. “I haven’t explainedwhat I intend to do to you yet.”

Linsey prided herself on her cool composure but it was being severelytested. Feeling her mouth drying up she reached again for her teacup.This time she left the saucer on the table, but it still rattled as shelifted the cup. It needed both her shaky hands to raise the cup to herlips. Markham bided his time. He enjoyed watching her discomfort as shesipped repeatedly, hoping perhaps that the cup contained something agood deal stronger than tea.

She put the cup down decisively, as if strengthened by the tea. It hadto be a sick joke, she thought. You can’t turn an employee intoa sex slave. Not even if she’s lost your company eight million pounds.Not in London in the twenty-first century! She realized she was takingthis game far too seriously. It was time to humour him.

“Okay Sir.” She sat up straight and ground her buttocks intothe seat with a little wiggle as she tried to regain her poise. “Thenplease explain what are you planning to do to me.”

Markham was happy to oblige. In fact he had been waiting for this moment.He spoke slowly and deliberately in his gravelly tones so that Linseycould absorb every word.

“First of all, you will remove all your clothes. You can do itby yourself or with Cormack’s assistance, I really don’t mind.Your jewelry too, you won’t need it anymore. I’ll donate theproceeds to one of my charities.”

Linsey instinctively reached up to touch the expensive gold chain thatlay gleaming against her tanned skin; tantalisingly visible between thetwo-button opening of her blouse.

“When you are completely naked Cormack will bind you. The ropewe use is soft, but there will be lots of it and it will be very tight.We need to fit you into the suitcase behind you.”

Linsey swiveled around to see the suitcase she’d barely registeredbefore. It would be difficult to fit somebody into it, but not impossible.She turned back to face him.

“You’ll be gagged of course. We will pack your mouth witha silk scarf then tape it over several times.” He looked up at Cormackfor confirmation of this. Cormack nodded.

“And hooded too. A black cloth bag with a drawstring pulled tightlyaround your neck.”

She swallowed her saliva nervously. Markham noted and enjoyed that firstnervous gulp.

“When you are locked in the suitcase we’ll leave. You’llbe traveling in style, in the boot of my Rolls-Royce. Ever been in aRolls-Royce before Miss Altmell?”

She shook her head and gulped again.

“They’re beautiful machines, automotive works of art. It’slike floating on air. They have such a smooth ride, as you’ll discoverfor yourself very soon. Where was I? Oh yes, I remember...

“Immediately upon arrival at my country estate your training willcommence. Neither Cormack or I will be involved. I have excellent peopleto do that sort of thing. Did I ever mention that to you before? No?” Hemade it sound like an oversight, the forgetfulness of an old man. “It’snot only stock-exchange traders I employ. I also have people who specialisein turning a sophisticated woman - as you pretend to be - into a shamelesswhore, which is what you will become. Sometimes, Miss Altmell, to buildsomething worthwhile one must to destroy what was there before.”

Single tears tumbled down each of Linsey’s cheeks in perfect sync.She didn’t believe him but it was scaring her nonetheless. She pleadedwith him. “Mr. Markham Sir, you can’t do this. John, my boyfriend,is calling to collect me in twenty minutes. He’ll know something’swrong if I’m not waiting outside for him. Please stop this awfulgame right now.” Buoyed up by the certainty of John’s arrivalshe rose to her feet and walked hastily towards the door. She stood facingthe barrel chest of an immovable object.

“Let me pass Cormack!” She demanded, looking up to him morein hope than expectation. Cormack gripped her by the upper arm, spunher around and pushed her down into her chair. He yanked her arms backthrough the vertical wooden slats of the chair’s backrest and pulledthe handcuffs from their holster on his belt. He ratcheted the cuffsonto her wrists, effectively locking her to the chair.

“I assume you finished your tea?” Markham joked meanly, noticingLinsey looking forlornly into the teacup. “Ever worn handcuffs beforeMs Altmell?”

Linsey shook her head sullenly.

“These ones are very comfortable don’t you think, they don’tdig into you flesh like other types, much more suitable for long termuse on a woman’s soft skin and slender wrists. I like them so muchI bought shares in the company.”

Even though he was facing her from across the table Markham could tellthat Linsey’s wrists were tugging and twisting within their unaccustomedconfinement. “Does that feel nice, Ms Altmell? Some women like it.Their powerlessness turns them on. They like being controlled, submittingthemselves to another, and being done to. It frees them from guilt. Justimagine the exquisite torment when you want to masturbate, but you can’tbecause your hands are secured behind you. Many women have their mostintense orgasms when they are tied or secured. Perhaps you will be likethat too?”

"No," Linsey mouthed softly, and without conviction. She ceased herstruggling, sat up straight, composed herself and looked across to Markham.Just because she was handcuffed it didn’t mean she need lose herdignity.

“That’s a nice outfit you’re wearing, Miss Altmell.” Markhamcommented casually. “Medium grey pin-striped jacket and matchingskirt. Very nice tailoring. Bespoke I presume?”

Linsey nodded warily, wondering where that line of questioning was heading.

“You have good taste. I do so prefer a suit with a tailored fit.Quality is always worth the price. Cars, clothes… slaves.” Helooked at her chest, noticing the anxious rise and fall of her breasts. “Thatblouse goes perfectly with your jacket. Burgundy, I would call that.”

"Yes, Sir," Linsey reluctantly confirmed. It was indeed burgundy, andthis particular blouse was one of her favourites, a Donna Karan.

“You’ve worn the suit and the blouse before, haven’tyou?” He looked down at his typed-up notes. “March 21st, itsays here.”

She was taken aback by the mention of such a seemingly irrelevant detail. “What’sthat got to do with anything?” She asked with genuine curiosity.

“You’ll find out later. First allow me to continue explainingwhat will happen to you. I assume you are interested in what your futureholds?”

Linsey glared back at him, trying to maintain her dignity by sittingbolt upright in her chair, aided ironically by her cuffed wrists trappedthe chair back.

Markham continued. “When you reach my estate you will be unpackedfrom the suitcase, untied, and your naked body will be paraded in frontof some specially invited guests. You will be chained to one of the oakpillars in my library and will be whipped. It will hurt, perhaps morepainful than anything you’ve ever known. Yet it will only be a tasteof what will follow. Then you’ll be left hanging in your restraintswhile I provide dinner for my guests...

“I’m sure Miss Altmell you will look exquisitely beautiful,your whip-marked naked body standing chained against a pillar whilstmy guests enjoy a sumptuous meal just a few yards away from you...

“You, Miss Altmell, will be the dessert course. My guests willgive you a thorough and extremely intimate examination...

“You will be fitted with a thick leather collar in keeping withyour new status as an untrained whore. Then you will be chained in yourcell for the night. You’ll have to get used to that Miss Altmell,you’ll sleep in chains every night from now on...

“The following morning you will start your bitch-dog training.Have you ever had sex with a dog, Miss Altmell?”

She shook her head, unable to muster a response to such a ridiculousquestion.

“Every morning you’ll be taken to the back lawn of my mansionto be attached to our breeding frame. It’s the stump of a tree equippedwith leather restraints. It will hold you completely immobile and renderyour whore’s cunt easily accessible to my dogs. When they are letout of their kennels in the morning they always run to see if anyonehas been secured to the breeding frame. They’ll probably fight overyou, but don’t worry - they are muzzled. They can’t bite youbut their claws will scratch your back. After the dogs have had you,you will be left secured to the breeding frame for at least an hour sothat you can fully appreciate your new status. Then your rump will besoundly beaten with a paddle before you are released and taken back intothe house...

“Every afternoon you will be taught how to serve men and women,and how to behave in the presence of your superiors. Superiors meanseverybody, including the garden labourers. You will learn how to takea man’s cock fully within your throat and how to accommodate himin your rectum as if it’s no different to the missionary position…

“You will be whipped if you are bad, You will be whipped if youare good. You will learn to respond to the whip. In due course, the verysight of a whip in a man’s hand will arouse you...

“A tattoo artist will begin etching an elaborate design on yourskin, which will weave its way up and down the length of your body fromankles to neck. It will be beautiful, and will mark you out as a lifelongslave. You will be pierced and branded in any manner we see fit.”

Linsey had closed her eyes, but could not close her ears to Markham’smonologue. Her mind was reeling, overwhelmed with the images he described.The cool steel encircling her wrists seemed to reinforce everything hewas saying.

Markham continued relentlessly, like a boxer finishing off his opponent. “Youwill experience extreme forms of bondage, sometimes you’ll be suspendedor stretched, contorted or compressed. You will attend elegant parties,where your body will be exhibited in ways more obscene than you can possiblyimagine...

“Occasionally you will be permitted the release of an orgasm, butalways under the strict control of one of your handlers, or perhaps aspart of a public performance...

“When, after three months your training is complete I will decidewhether to keep you or sell you. I am a member of an exclusive club thatowns a small island in the pacific. Perhaps I will send you there tobe trained as a ponygirl. You might enjoy that Miss Altmell, being harnessedin an array of leather straps, a bit wedged between your teeth, everyday spent trotting around the island with a whip being applied to yourbuttocks.

“There is a market for young attractive women like you. A marketbigger than you can possibly imagine. You are a valuable commodity, orat least you will be when you are a fully-trained bonded whore.”

Linsey was still immaculately dressed in her burgundy and grey, buther clothes no longer seemed to fit. The jacket that always felt so comfortablenow seemed too tight and too warm, and she even wondered if it reallysuited her as well as she always supposed.

She was biting down on her bottom lip, her eyes darting nervously aboutthe room. Loose strands of hair, which she habitually tucked behind herears with her fingers, now hung untidily at the side of her face. Sheflicked her head back in a wild gesture that only messed her hair upeven more. Inside she was a mess too. Markham’s speech had scaredher. It was like the strange churned up feeling she had in her bellywhen she fell in love, but this was far more intense, almost painful.

Markham paused to observe his latest acquisition and saw that Linsey’ssubtly made-up eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, her breathing rapid,as if fighting a mental battle.

“Oh Lord, look at the time!” Markham exclaimed, breaking thesilence and causing Linsey to open her eyes. “Your boyfriend willbe here in fifteen minutes. We’d better get you undressed and ready.You won’t need clothes any more. What’s it to be? With or withoutCormack’s assistance?”

“Without,” Linsey replied automatically, though being undressedby the handsome hunk Cormack would not have seemed such a terrible prospectuntil this evening.

Cormack unlocked her cuffs. She rubbed her wrists, more in imitationof scenes in television and movies than from any actual pain. She glancedwarily at both men, and began hesitantly undressing under Cormack’sintimidating gaze.

She folded and laid her jacket, skirt and blouse carefully on the tableand stood self-conscious and vulnerable in her underwear, unable to shieldher body from view, and unwilling to flaunt it.

Her undergarments, - bra, panties, matching garter-belt and stockings- were burgundy, just like her blouse. Attention to detail! Markham likedthat. The men nodded to each other in approval. They often talked ofhow so few women make the effort these days. Cormack was equally takenwith Linsey’s gym-toned body, neither skinny nor muscular nor toofleshy. Her three-inch heels, strappy and open-topped, gave her posturethat all-important lift. Stockings absolutely had to be accompanied byheels in Markham’s opinion.

Linsey pleaded to Cormack with her eyes, hoping that being strippeddown to her underwear would suffice. It was futile, Cormack gesturedthat she should continue undressing. He doubted Linsey’s nakednesscould improve on her lingerie-caressed body, but somehow it did.

Markham, meanwhile, stared impassively out of his tenth floor window.Was his indifference designed to insult her further, Linsey wondered? “Earrings,bracelets, necklace, watch and rings,” he reminded her without botheringto turn around.

She fought back her sobs as she removed her jewelry placing each itemcarefully on top of her folded clothes, as if she expected to be dressingagain. She’d almost forgotten her earrings until Cormack remindedher. She removed them, replacing the fastenings on each before addingthem to the rest of her garments.

Linsey stood head bowed and naked in front of two fully clothed men,stripped not just of her clothing, but her identity, her status, andher will to resist. Neatly folded and piled on the table was the sumof everthing she enjoyed, held precious, and strived for.

On top of the pile were the high-heeled sandals placed side by side,receiving the attention of all three of the room’s occupants. Markham’sphilosophy was that the delicated straps which caressed the arch of thefeet and wrapped around the ankle were subtle yet powerful symbols ofbondage. High heels, to him, represented a woman’s willingness toconform to a man’s ideal. He consulted his clipboard and the photoof Linsey leaving the building on March 21st. The shoes in the picturewere very different. He showed the picture to Cormack.

“We already have the shoes we need,” Cormack confirmed, “wedon’t need those.”

Markham laughed at how Cormack and his team always had things covered. “Putthe shoes on,” he commanded Linsey.

She sat down, her naked buttocks sticking to the leather cushioned seat.She placed the sandals on the floor and fastened them onto her bare feetbuckling the straps around her slim ankles. It was an awful feeling -these Jimmy Choo’s always made her feel so sexy, yet now, paradingnaked in front of these two men it was the last thing she wanted to feel.

“Tie her wrists, Cormack, then take out the clothes,” Markhaminstructed before returning to his view out of the window. Cormack openedthe suitcase containing the rope and the gagging tape they mentionedearlier.

“No. Please don’t.” Linsey’s quivering voice pleadedas Cormack approached her, a length of thick white rope gripped in hishand.

“Do as Cormack says or he’ll hit you. Then he’ll tieyou up anyway.” Markham advised.

The combined advice and threat made Linsey shiver. She remembered anawful incident in the ground floor lobby one day when one of Cormack’spunches split open a man’s nose. She had no choice but to turn herback to him, cross her wrists behind her and let him tie them.

After making six neat loops and giving a couple of decisive tugs Cormackwas done. Such was the efficacy of his binding technique Linsey feltlike her wrists had been at once tied, glued and riveted together. Shelooked forlornly over her shoulder at her joined wrists, bending backher fingers in the vain hope she could reach the knots. It was hopeless.

Markham approved. Linsey was looking better already. He always felta naked woman looked so much tidier when her hands are neatly held behindher back.

“Clamps?” Cormack suggested to his boss, already reachinginto the suitcase. Markham looked quickly at Linsey’s neat shapelybreasts, her nipples small yet prominent, and slightly upturned. He noddedhis agreement.

With Cormack standing behind her, Linsey didn’t seen the clampsapproaching. She screamed at the sudden shock, like a dog having itstail stepped on. Embraced in Cormack’s bear hug she was powerlessto resist as her other nipple was clamped. An arc of chain was left danglingbetween them. His job done, Cormack picked up Linsey’s orderly pileof clothing and jewelry and walked out of the room, locking the doorbehind him.

This girl had never worn nipple clamps before, Markham suspected, asLinsey hopped around the room, squealing, squirming and swearing. Thepain of the clamps made her forget her nakedness and bondage. Never beforebound or nipple-clamped, he surmised. He reckoned he had enough experienceto be a good judge of such things.

Linsey was desperate to stop the pain in her tortured nipples. She kneltdown on the carpet and tried to dislodge the nipple clamps with the edgeof Markham's antique desk. At first Markham laughed as the steel clampsrattled against the polished teak, then he saw the damage she was doing.

“Stop that, Miss Altmell!” He commanded. Linsey obeyed, feelingguilty about vandalizing an expensive piece of furniture. She stood upand prowled the room, tugging on her tied wrists and shaking her breastsin the vain hope of dislodging the nipple clamps. It looked like shewas wrestling with an invisible opponent, Markham mused. He never doubtedthat Cormack’s rope-work was secure, so he left her to pace aroundthe boardroom like a caged tigress, while he kept an eye on the streetbelow.

Even though Linsey heard the door locking when Cormack left, she wentto the door and yanked on the handle in the vain hope that it might open.Naked or not, she was prepared to run at the first opportunity. Markhamdidn’t turn around to look at her, not even as she cursed and rattledthe handle several more times.

Then she noticed a phone on a low bookshelf and backed herself up toit, while Markham looked out of the window. She lifted the receiver offthe hook with her bound hands and dialled what she hoped was 9112 foremergency services.

“What do you want from me, Mr. Markham?” she yelled out acrossthe room. “Please don’t rape me, I’m begging you!”

Markham turned around, somewhat surprised at Linsey’s outburst. “I’mnot going to rape you, Miss Altmell, at least not tonight. I alreadytold you, you’re going to be a bonded whore. We’ll be leavingHitcham Tower within half an hour and driving to my estate in Hampshire!He tutted at how little attention she had paid to his previous speech.Such lapses of memory would be severely dealt with once her trainingcommenced.

Linsey left the handset off the hook hoping that Markham would continueto incriminate himself to the emergency operators. She glanced at thefour wall clocks: New York, two o’clock, Frankfurt eight o’clock,four in the morning in Tokyo, while here in London it was seven o’clockexactly. John, her boyfriend said earlier he’d collect her at sevenon the dot. The thought of him pulling up outside at the same time asthe police arrived made her tremble in delicious anticipation of victory.

The old man and his latest acquisition stood side-by-side, both staringout the window at the street below, both waiting and watching. Linsey’soptimism was as great as the old man’s smugness. Markham lookedacross at his latest acquisition and smiled. The combination of highheels and tied hands had given her an excellent posture. He tenderlypulled her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear just asshe would have done if her hands were not tied. He wanted to see thatslim neck again anticipating how exquisite it would be when locked inone of his collars. Linsey was a natural submissive and slave, he wasincreasingly sure of it, even if she wasn’t.

A hundred feet below them, with his usual impeccable timing John pulledup in his silver BMW M3. Linsey whimpered his name calling quietly towardshim as she saw the driver’s door open. She knew from habit thatJohn would go into reception to check with the desk supervisor. Thenthe supervisor would call her extension to say her boyfriend had arrived.

She could not have expected what happened a moment later when her nightmarewent from bad to worse. John had barely stepped out of his car when awoman exited the building and approached him. He and the woman kissedbriefly but affectionately, then they got in the car and drove off. Linseywatched in stunned disbelief as the BMW idled impatiently at a nearbyred light. As the light changed to green the car turned right in a squealing,rubber-burning skid, attracting the disapproving glances of passers-by.

What really confused Linsey was that even with a distance of ten floorsbetween them, the woman, especially with her long dark hair, looked remarkablysimilar to herself. She was an imposter, Linsey realized.

“You see, Miss Altmell. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’tmind who gets in his car.” Markham joked.

Linsey collapsed to the Wilton carpet in despair, kneeling on her calves,bent forward and sobbing wildly. “He loves me,” she sobbed “Iknow he loves me!”

Markham grinned, sensing that Linsey’s transition was well underway. He stroked the top of her head, tidying her hair, and enjoying itssilky softness. “Come come now Miss Altmell, it’s all over.What is it your generation is so fond of saying? Get over it! You shouldthink of your new life now.”

Cormack returned to the office. He immediately went to the phone andreplaced the handset. Then he bent down and plugged its cable into thewall socket.

“Everything okay?” Markham asked him.

“Perfect!” Cormack replied, “I told the team leader tocall you.”

Seconds later the phone rang. Cormack touched the hands-free button.

“Sir?” a voice enquired from the phone’s speaker.

“Go ahead. What’s happening?” Markham called out fromacross the room.

In measured tones, the voice gave his report. “Everything has goneto plan Mr. Markham. The boyfriend has been drugged and won’t wakeuntil at least five a.m. We’ve put traces of Ms Altmell’s bloodin the boot of his car with fibres from her most recent clothing. AnInternet ticket to Thailand has been purchase using his credit card.The security recordings of Ms Altmell leaving the building on March 21stwill be edited into today’s security footage, ready for the morningarchiving.”

“Excellent work, Harry. Have a great weekend!” Markham shoutedcheerily as the call ended.

Linsey heard it all, just as Markham intended she should. She was open-mouthedwith shock. “Oh my God... it wasn’t John in the car. You’reframing him for my murder!”

“That’s right Miss Altmell. There will be witnesses who rememberthe car arriving and your getting into it. The burning rubber was a nicetouch don’t you think? It’ll help cement the witnesses’ memories.Your boyfriend will have no alibi, and will fighting against strong circumstantialevidence. He’ll be jailed for your murder, of that I am certain.”

“Why John? What’s he done? I was the one who lost the damnmoney!” Linsey said, choking back her tears.

Markham had waited patiently to deliver his coupe de grace. “MissAltmell. We all know that when somebody loses money on the markets, somebody,somewhere gains. John gave you insider tips, didn’t he? But theykept going wrong, didn’t they? While you were buying, he and hisassociates were selling. When you were off-loading shares at the bottomof the market, he and his customers were buying. He’s been usingyou Linsey. Your relationship has been a fraud enabling him to put millionsin his bank account. Now both of you shall be punished.”

Linsey hung her head and started to sob. “Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!”

Markham smiled, delighted that she now hated someone else even morethan him. She slumped from the chair onto the carpet, wanting to hideher humiliation. With her wayward hair covering her face, she almostsucceeded.

“Tie her up, Cormack.” Ranulph Markham commanded imperiously.

Linsey, in her despair, was already hunched over on the floor in exactlythe right position for Cormack to commence his work. He took the firstrope, wrapped it several times above and below her breasts and cinchedher elbows behind her. Markham took up a position standing directly infront of Linsey’s kneeling body. She tried to look up to him butit seemed a long way up; it was easier to look at his immaculately creasedtrousers and highly polished shoes.

Cormack continued to apply his ropes, wrapping, tugging and knotting,with the unfaltering precision of a craftsman. Linsey’s only protestwas the occasional ‘ouch’ as the ropes nipped at her flesh.Any thoughts of escape evaporated when Cormack started binding her anklestogether, the ropes catching the instep of her high heels binding hershoes to her.

Cormack’s fingers burrowed into the folds of her sex, but didn’tlinger. Moments later his hand returned with a small vibrator that hepushed deep inside her. A little wire with a switchbox trailed out ofit, enabling him to turn the thing on or off when required. Then he continuedfixing the ropes, winding one several times around her belly, then upbetween her legs to nestle deep within her crotch to hold the vibratorin place.

By the time Cormack had finished, Linsey had gone from tied to trussed;a tightly packaged ball, her breasts squeeezed against her thighs, andher bound ankles connected to her wrists. Rope bit into her flesh inall directions.

All Linsey could think about were Markham’s words - chained toa pillar and whipped, her body explored by strangers, the collar, thebreeding frame, the bondage, training to be a whore!

Cormack offered a neatly folded black silk scarf to her lips. Too tiredto protest she opened her mouth to allow him to insert it, which he didwith the same firm and impersonal touch that he applied in his rope-work.Then he plastered broad strips of white medical tape across her mouth- several four-inch wide strips on top of each other, masking the lowerhalf of her face, and muffling her cries.

“Good girl, Linsey.” Markham commented, still standing dominantlyabout her. He knew how important it was to compliment new slaves on theirgood behaviour. “Is she moist?” he asked Cormack.

Cormack slipped a hand between her buttocks and tied feet, and fingeredher rope-clefted sex. “I’d say so,” he confirmed witha smile. “Shouldn’t we give her a little reward for being wellbehaved?”

There was a faintly audible click, then rapid yet gentle vibrationsstarted up deep within Linsey’s vagina. She couldn’t preventherself from shivering and squirming in response to the mechanical invader.The men chuckled.

It was time for the hood - a black satin bag barely large enough tofit over her head. Cormack struggled to make it fit, tugging down onit until the opening was around her neck. He pulled the drawstring, knottingit tight enough for Linsey to feel a almost choking constriction aroundher neck.

Cormack’s sturdy legs straddled Linsey’s ball-tied body likea human crane. He squatted, slipped his hands under her knees and liftedher clean off the carpet. In the same movement he lowered her sidewaysinto the suitcase. He noticed that Linsey was trembling. Was it fearor merely the effect of the vibrator? A little of each, he thought.

He closed the suitcase’s lid, and zipped it up along three sides.The long zipping sound signalled to Linsey that her previous life, career-obsessedand materialistic, was ending. A new life of sexual slavery and liberationwas about to begin.

* * *

Ranulph Markham was right. The Rolls-Royce did have a smooth ride. Itwas self-evident even if you happen to be tied up in the boot.

Several weeks later Linsey could confirm Ranulph Markham was right abouteverything else too. The breeding frame, the whippings, the training,the bondage, the torments and humiliations were exactly as he describedon that fateful evening in his office. Now there was only one thing onthe whore linsey’s mind - whether Markham would keep her or sellher. She desperately hoped she could stay.

THE END