‘Snout?’
‘Tobacco,’ said Ghislaine, then, looking at their shabby shame dresses, sighing, ‘No, I suppose not.’
She consulted her clipboard and whistled.
‘Vile perversity and turpitude in an officer of the crown,’ she said.
‘Some obsolete statute from the seventeenth bloody century!’ complained former WPC Joule.
Vip!
‘Ah!’
Ghislaine caned her a stroke across the nipples.
‘Apparently, not obsolete,’ said Ghislaine, clamping her charges in a neck halter and leading them away. ‘You sure you don’t have any snout? Not even a half ounce?’
‘Smoking is a vile and disgusting practice!’ cried Miss Dummett.
Vip!
‘Ah!’
Her bare breasts quivered under Ghislaine’s cane.
‘So you don’t smoke, eh?’ said Ghislaine.
‘Certainly not!’
‘You will.’
* * *
‘You’re joking,’ said Amy Patel, sluicing her breasts with the shower nozzle. ‘The king…!’
‘He wants to visit,’ gasped Belinda Garce. ‘Says Wrigley Scrubs is the model female nick of the future…!’
‘Ooh! He’s such a dish! Do you think he’ll want to…’
‘See everything?’
‘Maybe give us a few lessons…!’
‘Well, he might.’
‘God! I’m wanking off just thinking about it!’
Both girls turned the shower nozzles up to full and directed the jets at their cunts.
* * *
‘But I don’t want to be released!’ wailed Ghislaine Bassin.
She slapped Habren’s face.
‘There!’ she said. ‘I’ve done something really naughty! That should earn me another six months, at least.’
Habren smiled.
‘You’re too valuable to release, Ghislaine. I’m simply sending you overseas, to serve your sentence in the desert.’
‘But I’d be away from Aggar! He…understands me!’
‘He understands all of us girls, Ghislaine. And there are plenty more like him. Watch this video.’
Ghislaine watched for twenty minutes, wanking herself to two climaxes, as whipcracks and groans of nude, buggered girls filled the room.
‘One of those girls could be you, Ghislaine,’ murmured Habren. ‘Truud, whom you see whipped and bummed, with her face hooded and her hands tied by her own silk pantaloons — she and her lover arrived quite out of the blue, and look how she loves it.’
‘All right, mum,’ Ghislaine said, licking her teeth. ‘It’s just that…I’ve never been abroad before.’
‘Don’t think of it as abroad. Think of it as home.’
* * *
‘Aggar…Aggar…Aggar…what are you doing to me?’ Isobel shrieked. ‘Oh, fuck me! It’s true…there is a real man! Fuck my cunt…!’
* * *
Crack!
Habren’s bullwhip lashed Adelaide Horsfall’s bare shoulders and she winced, drool sliming her chin and her breasts heaving as she strained to pull the cart.
‘It doesn’t seem fair,’ she blurted. ‘When Mrs Gaunt said she’d make further use of my talents, I didn’t know she meant…’
Crack!
‘Ahh!’
Beside her, Althea Tite shrieked as the whip took her on the bare-bum.
‘Shut up and pull, bitch!’ hissed Althea.
They drew alongside the rival cart, pulled by the nude Belinda Garce and Amy Patel, both slimed with piss, come and tears, under the lash of Angarad’s whip.
‘But if we are all Vandals, why have tournaments?’ gasped Miss Horsfall.
Crack!
‘Ahh…!’
The two carts lumbered across the finishing line and, at once, their nude drivers leapt down into the mud and began to wrestle, biting and gouging each other, until both were mud-caulked and indistinguishable in the bleak northern light. Writhing in the ooze, their slippery contest became an embrace and the two twins gamahuched, while the inhabitants of HMP Wrigley Scrubs wanked off, cheering. Althea churned her fist inside Miss Horsfall’s sopping cunt while wanking off her own engorged clitty.
‘Oh, yes,’ moaned the governess, her cunt squelched with come. ‘Yes…!’
‘That’s why…’ gasped Althea.
* * *
‘God, that’s tight, darling!’ groaned Joss Gaunt, writhing in his bondage of rubber cords. ‘My balls ache! I haven’t had sex for so long…’
‘Dirty beast!’
Vip!
‘Ouch! Oh, darling, if you’ll just touch my cock, please…’
‘You filth!’ Habren snapped, tightening his cock harness.
‘I’ve a good mind to leave you in this cage, alone in the labyrinth, for absolutely hours…’
‘At your pleasure, my sweet.’
‘Oh, it’s a matter of complete indifference to me, you understand…now that you’ve signed the orders.’
‘Yes, of course! No Gauntco supermarkets in — what are they? — Ditton, Wearbridge? — and you’re going to fulfil your side, aren’t you, my sweet? I flew all the way from Marrakesh, just to feel your cane on my bare! Please say you’ll whip me, soon! Thrash me to the bone, my darling!’
‘That wasn’t the only paper you signed, though,’ said Habren. ‘Angarad’s bail money was a cheque from Gauntco…!’
‘It was in the airmail Daily Telegraph, on page three!’ wailed Joss. ‘She looked so pretty, I felt sorry for her! Oh!’
Habren pushed a wad of pink brocade all the way into her husband’s anus.
‘I shall whip you, worm,’ she drawled. ‘Or someone just like me shall…’
* * *
‘But I can’t…’ blurted the girl. ‘It wouldn’t be right. I’m the one who’s earned…’
‘Be quiet, slut!’ snapped the girl in the rubber punishment corset.
The bare-breasted Miss Horsfall, with her nipples clamped to a rope wedged tightly inside her cunt-cleft, bowed and shuffled backwards out of the room in her wooden ankle hobble.
‘Right, slut,’ the corseted girl continued. ‘There’ll be no more disobedience! You’ll take fifty whops with my cane for that insolence and then you shall agree to obey my orders! Now, bare your bottom and assume position. Hold her ankles and wrists, if you please, Warden Coker.’
The girl, sobbing, swept up her long mane and bent over, lifting her skirt and lowering her knickers to bare her trembling naked arse-globes. Isobel squatted and obeyed the corseted girl, her towel falling from her naked body. The high-heeled domina strode to the rack of canes, weighed and examined each instrument, then selected a short, whippy little thrasher. She lifted the cane well back from the bare bum and it whistled.
Vip!
The submissive girl’s bum-flans shuddered, clenching, as a vivid pink weal striped the bare skin.
‘Oh…’
Vip!
‘Ah…!’
Vip! Vip Vip!
‘Ahh…!’
‘In future, you will obey, won’t you?’
The flogged girl gasped, wordless.
Vip! Vip! Vip!
Her naked arse was turning crimson, the welts overlaying older ones and puffing into deep ridges. Both bare fesses shivered, like jellies.
Vip! Vip! Vip!
The caning went to twenty, then thirty, but still she was silent, save for groans of agony and the slithering of her stockings as her legs jerked and threshed.
‘Please, mum,’ Isobel said, ‘don’t be too cruel to her.’
‘Flesh is cruel, bitch!’
Vip! Vip! Vip!
‘Ahh…!’
Come poured from the caned girl’s dripping open cunt, the lips swollen and glistening. Isobel released her ankle, and her hand crossed her quivering belly to her own juicing gash, where she fastened the erect clitty between finger and thumb and began to masturbate, her mouth open and tongue poised to lick the come from the flogged girl�
�s pouch flaps.
Vip! Vip! Vip!
‘AHH!’
‘Say you’ll obey!’
Vip! Vip! Vip!
The caner’s short skirt flew up as her free hand busied itself, masturbating her clitoris and penetrating her pouch inside the soaking wet ribbon of her loinstring. She paused in her caning and thrust one pointed toe inside her victim’s flowing cunt, touching and rubbing the clitty. Isobel’s tongue touched the sole of the caner’s clit-wanking boot, and she wanked off harder as she began to lick the sole while swallowing the flogged girl’s copious come.
‘Say you’ll run this prison as I tell you it should be run!’ hissed the domina, masturbating vigorously.
Vip! Vip! Vip!
‘Ahh!…Ohh…yes…’
‘I want to hear it!
‘Yes…yes…oh, do me…yes…’
‘I want to hear it, you submissive —’
Vip!
‘–little —’
Vip!
‘–slut!’
The girl’s come flowed from her foot-wanked cunt over the shiny rubber of her caner’s boot, diddling her swollen nubbin. The whipped bare buttocks were shading to purple, each bruise writhing and jerking in its own rhythm.
‘Wank me off…please…’
Vip! Vip! Vip!
‘Ahh…YES!’
‘YES!’ cried Isobel Coker, vigorously masturbating her gushing wet slit.
Come gushed from all three girls’ wanked cunts, as they began to shudder and squeal in orgasm.
‘Ah! Ah! Say it!’ gasped cane-wielding Habren. ‘Say you’ll show no mercy to perverted submissive sluts! Say you’ll cane them crimson, even your own sister! Especially her! Say you’ll run this prison as I want you to! Say you’ll dominate! And your first duty will be to thrash my husband on the bare, right this minute! Go on, say it!’
Vip! Vip! Vip!
‘Oh…!’
Vip! Vip! Vip!
‘Oh…!’
‘Say it, you submissive worm!’
‘Yes…yes, mum!’ sobbed Angarad.
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Caged! Page 28