by Paul Blades
It took about another hour for the trio to finish the line of females on the other side of the room. When they left, they shut the lights, and the room was plunged into abject darkness. Some of the girls cried out behind their gags in dismay and fear. Jana, although startled, remained silent.
As she stood, helpless in the darkness, Jana realized that the experience of being totally without visual stimulation was meant to deliver home to the kidnapped women their total dependence on the men who held them prisoner. They had been deprived of all of the normal attributes of independent life. They could not move their limbs or bodies, unless the writhing of confined hands or the shuffling of naked feet could be defined as movement. They had been deprived of the ability to speak, to make any intelligible sound, and now to see. They were being stored, like some commodity, until their owners had desire for their use. Nothing had been explained. They had been granted no understanding of what was to be their fate. Rather, like domesticated pets, they would be shown, taught by action rather than by word, who and what they now were.
The cries of the other girls subsided to the occasional soft moan or whimper. Now and then, one of the young women would growl out a protest against her treatment, a rage against the terrible unknown forces that had drawn her here, followed by a string of sobs. There was the occasional rattle of a chain, as someone tried to shift her feet to assuage the deep, dull pain that arose from the pressure of balancing herself on the balls of her feet.
Once or twice, Jana thought that she heard footsteps on the floor of the level above them, a creaking of the wood of the subfloor as feet trod across the room. It made her realize that people were probably engaging in all kinds of activity all around them. It was undoubtedly still daylight outside, no later than noon or shortly thereafter. What was outside these four darkened walls? What was beyond the steel door at the other end of the room from which the three workers who had tested and catalogued them came? How could what was happening to her really be happening?
Trying to ignore the aches from her raised arms and her distended feet, the dismally unhappy reporter thought of her boyfriend, whose birthday she had blown off. She had never called him and he would be hurt and angry. She experienced an intense feeling of loneliness and angst as she thought of him thinking badly of her, casting outwards those wishes for retribution and bad karma that jilted lovers often do. He knew of her history of infidelities in other relationships. She had been dating someone else when she met him. They had talked it out often, he having the need for assurances that it wouldn’t happen to him. He probably imagined her as having betrayed him, off in the arms and in the bed of her latest infatuation.
Her mind cried out a prayer to him, an attempt to send by telepathy over what were probably thousands of miles her pleas for understanding and help. How long would it be before he realized that she had gone missing? Would anyone buy the concocted story Creeper had told her, that he would arrange so that it would seem that she had flown off to the South Pacific and drowned in a boating accident, her body never to be recovered? Were the people that Creeper worked with or for that powerful, that accomplished in their abilities to manipulate events, evidence, statements of witnesses?
The door clanged open and the harsh, fluorescent light blinked on in the long, narrow room suddenly. Jana had to close her eyes and reopen them slowly because of the sudden brightness. Two guards had entered the room. They disconnected the four girls at the far end of the room from their chains and ushered them out. The door slammed shut and the light went back off again. A half hour or so later, the door opened again and four more girls were taken away. One of them struggled with the guards, crying and sobbing behind her gag to avoid the dark, unknown fate that lay ahead, and suffered a fierce jolt from one of their wands. She shrieked in pain, falling to the floor, and suffered another. The guards picked her sobbing frame up off of the floor and dragged her to the front of the line, urging the other three to follow. They did so peaceably and without protest.
When the door opened the third time, Jana knew that her time to discover what lay behind it had come. She was the last to be unhooked from the chain that went up to the steel pipe above them. Nervously, she waited until the women in front of her started their small, shuffling parade to the other end of the room, their hands still raised up behind their necks. Jana took note of the long, naked back and the well formed derriere of the young woman in front of her. She imagined the guard behind her having the same view of her naked form and cringed.
A knot of fear had formed in her stomach. Her mouth was dry and her palms sweaty. She cursed herself for docilely obeying the silent orders of the cruel men, even though she knew that she had no choice. She clung to the hope that, whatever was going to happen to the other girls, she would escape, she would be spared. The other females were drones, members of the huge population of consumers that she looked down on and whose lack of subtlety and sophistication she often had mocked. She was special. She was, if not famous, well known on three continents. She had her own column, owned an apartment in Central London, a fancy car, stocks and bonds, a large bank account, pretty, expensive prints on her walls, loved film, books and fine dining. She was somebody. This couldn’t be happening to her! Someone would realize their mistake. She would promise to remain silent, not to write about what she had seen and experienced. She would shut what had happened out of her mind like some suppressed nightmare. Really! She would! She would! If only someone would talk to her, if there was someone she could bargain with!
The exit from the processing area led into another long, whitewashed hallway. The corridor came to a junction and the lead guard urged the disconsolate young females to the right. When the girl in front of her had made the turn, he stopped the column. The second guard placed his heavy hand on her arm and stopped her from following. Jana’s heart fell as her released her from the coffle, realizing that the men had something special in store for her.
Instead of following the other girls, she was tugged along the hall in the other direction. They passed several steel doors and stopped at the last one on the left. The guard entered a code on the box on the wall and opened the door. Jana was pulled inside.
It was a large room, with several ottomans and easy chairs dotted about it. The ottomans were bedecked with steel rings at the corners and the sides. There were several strange looking wooden frames with what looked like clamps and belts about them. The carpet on the floor was a dark red and the walls white. There were no windows and the room was lit by several recessed highhats. The light was dim, in contrast to the bright, impersonal light in the hallway.
Jana didn’t have much time to look around before the guard dragged her over to a chain that was hanging from the ceiling. She looked up at it forebodingly as the guard undid her wrists behind her neck. Her body shivered with fear as he locked her bracelets onto the chain one by one. The chain rain through a series of pulleys to the wall and down it. The guard stepped over to the wall and pulled the chain until Jana’s hands were high above her head, lifting her to her toes, and then tied it off.
The 28 year old former reporter had never felt so exposed before or helpless. The guard came behind her back and, leaning against her, took her breasts in his hands, massaging them. She could feel the heat from his strong body through his robe against her skin. His hands were rough and hot. He pinched her tiny nipples and then ran his hands down her belly to the bush between her thighs.
Jana, humiliated and afraid, didn’t move as she felt his large hands pull apart her nether lips and tease the tender skin inside. He manipulated the space between her folds and the little bud on top until she began to involuntarily lubricate and then he eased his fingers into her. She could feel his hardness against her bottom and began to fear that he was going to rape her. But his hands fell away from her loins and, after rubbing them over her smooth hips and down the outsides of her thighs, he stepped back and left the room.
Jana felt ashamed that her sex had moistened at the man’s handlin
g of her. But her mind soon shifted to thoughts about this new development. Before, when she had been hung and stored like the other girls, she had felt oddly somewhat protected in being part of a pack. Whatever happened, she would be one of many. But now she was all alone, singled out for some particular nefarious fate. Far away from the assistance that anyone might giver her, she would have to face what was coming all by herself.
Jana had not noticed the array of whips that hung along the far wall in front of her when she had entered the room. She saw it now and her blood ran cold. Someone was going to whip her! She knew that the whips were not there for display. The rings on the ottomans and the medieval looking wooden assemblages were placed into context in her mind now. And the fact that she was bound, exposed and defenseless confirmed her worst imaginings. She whined and shook her head wildly, straining at the bonds that held her wrists. Her long, brown hair, tangled and messy, flew from side to side, brushing against her up stretched arms. She danced on her toes, trying to add force to her weight in an effort to slip her wrists from the bracelets that confined them. If she could just get free, she thought. I’ll grab something, anything, and when the men come in the door I’ll hit them with it and try to run way! There’s got to be some way to escape!
The desperate woman was still struggling when she heard the door to the room open. Two tall, broad shouldered African men entered wearing calf length black robes. Behind them was a smaller man, a white man, dressed in a brown robe. She recognized him immediately. It was Creeper!
Creeper had taken a nap once his work at the landing strip and hanger had been done. He was allotted a cottage. No way was he going to room with the band even though there were bedrooms to spare in their mansion. He had enough of those assholes on the road. When he awoke, he showered and ate a leisurely lunch at one of the outdoor cafes. A pretty, shapely, naked slave girl served him. Her full breasts bobbed when she walked. She had close cut chestnut colored hair, a pert nose and a saucy smile. He pulled the red tag from her collar when she brought him his meal. He would see her later.
When he finished his repast, he strolled leisurely over to Rukimo’s domain. This was the large, principally underground, training center for the newly enslaved females. Although Rukimo had a hand in virtually every aspect of the resort, his specialty was in arranging the breaking in and breaking down of the desirable fresh female flesh that constantly flowed to the island. He would have his hands full soon, when the ship carrying the fifty young females from the Day-Glo Dreams European tour arrived. But he would cope. All hands would be called to attend to their training, even some of the brown robed supervisors who were usually busy with other tasks. And there were plenty of the tall, muscular African guards around who would be happy to double their shifts below ground.
Creeper passed through the security easily and was ushered by two of the black-robed guards to the room where Jana awaited him. He had figured Jana would be ready for his attentions in about three hours and he was right. Here she was, shapely, naked and helpless. He had been saving himself for her.
“Well, Jana,” he said as he stepped up to her. “We meet again. How nice of you to hang around for me.”
Jana was overwhelmed with anger and disgust at this man and what he had done to her. She forgot for the moment her utter defenselessness and the intense, sudden pain that a touch of the wands that the black men were carrying could deliver. Her feet were still confined by the 18” long chain and it was necessary to swing both of her feet at her kidnapper in order to strike out at him. She struck him a glancing blow off of his thigh with one foot and he grabbed his leg in pain as he fell back.
“You shouldn’t have done that Jana!” he told her, his face ablaze with anger. “You’ll have to be punished. And I mean after the beating that I was going to give you anyway. You are going to make this even more fun.”
He said something to the guards who advanced and captured Jana’s feet. The chain was removed from her ankles and her feet were brought to the carpet. While one guard clipped her ankles together, the other one went over to a large, wooden cabinet against the wall and brought back a small chain that he used to bind her ankles to a ring in the floor. He legs were now held tight and immobile. She strained and shook in her bonds, causing her breasts to flutter enticingly. Sweat from fear started to run down her armpits and from her temples. She cursed herself for her loss of control, her futile gesture. But at least it was something. She had struck back at the vile, creepy looking man who had drugged and raped her and who was responsible for her current fate.
He walked over to the far wall and retrieved a long, leather encased riding crop. It was made of teakwood and would not break from even the hardest blows. It was heavy and solid in his hand and he stroked it admiringly as he came back to the naked, extended woman. He looked different somehow to Jana, as if his now elevated value to the organization which ran this place because of his successful enterprise had raised his self esteem and altered his appearance. He wasn’t wearing his silver framed, wire rimmed glasses. They were, in fact, a prop, something to add to his obsequious appearance when he dealt with the band and reporters and the roadies. He wore his true face now, the face of a hard man raised on the hard streets of the industrial North, veteran of many successful criminal conspiracies, enslaver and tormentor of women.
He stepped close to Jana and tapped her breasts with the end of the riding crop. “See how hard this is, Jana. It’s going to hurt like hell. Tomorrow, you’ll be covered with deep black and blue marks. Your whole body will be sore. And then I’ll come back and whip you again. I’m going to be here a whole week and I’m going to see you every day while I’m here. I’m going to fuck you and come in your mouth. And then I’ll be leaving. But you’ll be staying. My friends are going to make you into a good little whore. And by then, you’ll be happy to suck anybody’s cock, spread your legs for anyone who asks. Because that’ll be your only purpose in life. And when you get old and tired and ugly, then you’ll have served your purpose and they’ll get rid of you. So you’ll have to be a good little slut for as long as you can.”
The depraved band manager and criminal’s voice rose higher and higher as he spoke to the terrified woman. His face became red as if absorbing his formerly pent up rage. He was poking and prodding Jana’s body painfully with the end of the riding crop, leaving deep red round marks on her skin.
“Your former life will become a dream to you, Jana,” he continued. “It’ll seem like it never existed. And every once in a while, when some fat slob is stuffing his cock down your throat, you’ll think of me, the one who brought you here. And every once in a while, I’ll think about you and smile, knowing that you’ve gotten what you deserved.”
Jana’s body was shaking and trembling with fear. The terrible words of the evil man cut through her like a thousand knives. She couldn’t imagine living the life that the man she knew as Creeper was describing. She looked over at the two African men. They were sitting in easy chairs, watching Creeper’s performance and her reactions with amusement. One of them had opened his robe and was stroking his long, thick, black cock.
He observed Jana’s glance at the men. “My friends here are going to start you on your way, Jana. After I’ve had my fun with you, they’re going to fuck you.”
Jana moaned behind her gag. Her eyes were wide and filled with tears. She wanted to beg and plead to be released, to say that she was sorry she had offended Creeper, sorry that she had ever called him that. Sorry about the things that she had written about him in her column.
The slaver stepped closer to his victim. He grabbed her right breast and placed his lips on the nipple, covering it, licking and sucking at it. He squeezed the soft, full breast tightly, causing Jana to moan with pain. The contact revolted her, and yet she could feel the familiar tug in her loins as the heat of his mouth transferred to her nipple. He switched to the other breast, licking and sucking at it until her nipple was hard. Jana writhed her body uselessly, trying to avoid the man’s offen
sive attentions. He just squeezed her breast harder, making her moan again.
Then he stepped back and took a good look at his captive. Her body was beautiful, with enchanting round breasts, gently curving hips and well formed, slender thighs. In spite of her age, old by the island’s standards anyway, she would make a valuable whore. She would have no shortage of customers.
Having primed his lust, Creeper stepped back and raised the cane above his head and behind him. He swung it forward with his right hand and struck the defenseless woman across her pretty breasts. The riding crop landed with a loud ‘whack!’ Jana’s body stiffened and she screamed in pain. “Owwwwwwwwwwww!” she yelled behind her gag. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” She couldn’t believe that he had really done it. That anyone would really whip a woman like he had threatened. That anyone would callously take a cane to her naked breasts.
He followed up the first blow with another quickly. He struck the desirable woman across her firm belly. The heavy, leather wrapped wood made a ’thump’ noise as it struck the hollower place. Jana screamed again, louder now, the sound coming from deep in her throat. The man walked round her body, striking it again and again. He landed blows on the front and back of her thighs, her rear, her back. He struck out at her sides, into her ribs and against the sides of her legs. Jana screamed and screamed until her voice was hoarse. Her body shook and twisted in her confinements as each blow sent a message laden with mind numbing pain to her brain. She clamped her teeth down fiercely on the thick, leather gag in her mouth in an effort to silence her anguished cries. She clamped her eyes shut to block out the vision of the cruel man with the evil instrument who was pummeling her. But each time the thick, heavy riding crop landed, she burst out into another piteous wail of pain and her eyes sprung open, widening with the shock of the insult to her flesh.