Jane looked down at her captive teats; they looked great but was it enough? No, if she was going to be a bond slut, she might as well be the best.
Carefully she removed the stretchers. Her nipples slowly started to soften into her well-defined aureoles as much as her over-extended teats could. From her jewel case she took two heavy gold nipple shields. Tweaking herself to re- arouse the nipples, she slid the shields down to the base of her teats. Large, fat, firm and rubbery, there was minimal deflection of her nipples even though the shields were thick and heavy. It was with difficulty that she replaced the stretchers on top of the shields but eventually she managed it without making her nipples too sore. She shook her breasts and thrilled to the sensations her weighted teats provided.
Stockings and suspender belt. Not quite the undergarments for the young policewoman on active duty but today would she might see action of a different sort. At last she was dressed and she examined herself in the long mirror. There was no outward sign that she was anything other than an impeccably turned out young woman constable. As long as, that is, she was not called upon to react to an emergency; her two-way radio was turned off but other things could happen. Transit accidents, hue and cry, whatever.
Her neat fitting tunic was a little loose for she was not wearing her normal padded bra, although her nipples with their stretchers and shields were the size of budding breasts. They rubbed deliciously against the smooth linen of her uniform blouse. That was arousing enough but she wasn't sure what might happen if she were forced to run. And what if she fell? All might be revealed, stockings and suspenders and bare, bare ass!
She drew a deep shaky breath. Well, today was going to be the first day of a whole new life, if she had the nerve to go though with it.
Chapter 3. The off.
The desk clerk didn't bat an eyelid when the young policewoman walked, apparently with total confidence, through the reception area and made for the lift reserved for the penthouse suite. He knew the reason for the interviews and he had seen all manner of young women pass through his lobby. In fact many of them would not have been allowed in if it had not been for the benefit of a gentleman of Mr Jordan's standing. Luckily the fact that automatically Mr Jordan reserved the penthouse did at least ensure that normal guests didn't have to use the same lift as these women.
The lift door slid open for Jane onto a room that was filled with young women. All sat around the room as though in the waiting room of a dentist’s. There was little doubt in general as to their trade or hobby. A few were what in other times were referred to as the "deserving poor". The "Dole" ensured that only the profligate types ever experienced hardship but it didn't give enough for lavish living, either. Everyone of the girls sat, cowed by the luxury of their surroundings, silent and still. The girl at the reception desk did little to lighten the atmosphere, she was the dragon at the gate.
It wasn't that she was being unpleasant or nasty in any way, quite the reverse. She was just so unbelievably beautiful that few women could have been in the same room without feeling decidedly inferior. Jane was made of sterner stuff than these poor things and she had the confidence of Academy and active police duty behind her. She hadn't always been the Super's pet pussy.
"Mr Jordan." No please, no hesitancy, total confidence in the uniform she wore. All uncertainty had disappeared she was a policewoman to whom everyone else was just "a punter".
All the eyes in the room were on Jane: it was beautiful girl who was the uncertain one. A pink tongue flicked out and moistened the full red lips. She smiled nervously, revealing teeth made to seem even whiter by the velvet blackness of her skin.
"Mr Jordan's interviewing at the moment." A look of uncertainty crossed her classic feature. "Would you mind waiting?"
Jane paused before answering automatically, it was a mannerism to give importance to the weakest of utterances.
"Not if he won’t be long." She paused as though considering. "However, I'm sure he's very busy." She looked around her, seeing many faces that she had seen before. Old friends’ week she thought, walking to a chair nearest the connecting door and looked down at the girl occupying it. Again the face was vaguely familiar. Swiftly the girl moved to allow Jane to sit, causing a wave motion around the room as a new order of priority for interviews was established.
Having made her mark, Jane was happy to sit and contemplate the girl at reception. Was she some high up flunky? A colleague of Jordan? Or what? The girl, whatever she was, was undeniably beautiful and dressed in a black obeah, like many upper class women. There was little of her body on show though the form revealed above the desk was shapely. Her features were North African rather than Southern, her ancestry owing more than a little to some handsome desert Arab.
Her contemplation of the girl was broken, giving no little relief to the girl who had been aware of Jane's scrutiny, by a buzzer. Automatically Jane stood up to enter the inner sanctum. The receptionist stood as well, blocking her path to the inner room. Again a nervous pink tongue bathed lush full lips.
"I'll have to let Mr Jordan know you want to see him.” Without waiting for a response she turned in a swirl of black silk, revealing neat shapely ankles in very high heels.
Jane was up to the doors before they had completely closed and heard the first words the girl spoke before they shut cutting the sentence.
"Master there's a -." Well at least Jane had no doubt now as to the girl’s status.
It was only a matter of moments before the girl reappeared and indicated with her hand that Jane should proceed through the door she was holding open for her.
The room was set up as though for an audition. A pool of light filled the centre of the room beyond it was a man at a desk hidden in shadow. The shape revealed nothing more than that he was male and, from the thickness of muscle at shoulder and neck, was not old, though whether young or middle aged it was almost impossible to say and similarly his voice when he spoke gave nothing away.
"How may I help you, officer?"
"I think by having the main lights on first, please sir."
"Ah of course, please excuse me." The movement his hand made was slight but the curtains drew back allowing daylight to enter the room and as it did so the lights flickered off.
The room originally had been set up as a study and now revealed in daylight it reverted back to its original function. Behind the ornate desk sat a man who appeared to be in his mid thirties, well muscled, mid brown hair neatly cut and with striking grey eyes. It was impossible to determine his height with any accuracy but he looked to be slightly above middle height.
"I thought the sergeant left here quite satisfied the other day."
"He did sir, but unfortunately we have had a complaint from a young girl last night regarding what was said at one of your interviews." Jane had thought a lot about what she would say when she met this man, she had dropped the Sergeant's name in to the conversation so as to confirm that she was the real article and she mentioned that the sergeant didn't really believe the complainant, which was why she was here rather than the sergeant. "To be honest sir, Sergeant Fletcher didn't put a lot of credibility in her statement but he thought I ought to come along and check."
"I see, well how do you think we can resolve this, officer?" There was no doubt in Jordan's mind that this was a genuine situation but equally their was no concern either, he had the confidence that power, position and money gives plus in this instance he had in fact broken no laws.
"I suggest, sir, you let me sit in on an interview or two to ascertain the manner and content of it so that I can go back and report that everything is OK." Jane decided she didn't want to be too conciliatory in case he didn't take her as a genuine WPC or worst he took her for a voyeur, not unknown in the force. "That is, if that is the case, sir."
"I don't think that should be a problem. If you sit behind those drapes there you'll be able to hear and see everything that goes on."
"Thank you sir, that should be fine." Jane moved to the drapes and
concealed herself as the lights went back down.
The girl that came in was the one who Jane had displaced to sit down. She was of medium build and height with a neat figure and would have been considered attractive by most men. Looking closely at her Jane remembered where she had seen her before.
Approximately twelve months ago she had tried to break off her arrangement with "Fat Pig". He had retaliated by making her work the twilight shift on the vice patrol. This one had been caught satisfying a client up against a convenient stretch of wall in a dark alley. The girl was still attractive and had obviously made an effort to appear at her best but Jane there was a hardness inside her that neither her amateur profession or life had caused. The girl was a people user, not a victim.
Legalisation of prostitution had eased considerably the problems of the late 20th century, however there is always a niche for the enterprising amateur. Whether it is the desire not to be officially labelled as on the game, or the attempt to avoid the cost of paying taxes and the hassle of regular medicals. There were still men who didn't want to go to official brothels, they liked their thrill raw with all the risk. Others were just paranoid about someone finding out they visited brothels.
"Just stand in the light there." The girl moved in to the centre of the light and squinted until her eyes accustomed to its glare. "And your name is?"
"Della." There was a pause. "Sir." She was obviously unused to calling anyone sir.
"Take off your clothes, Della." The girl hesitated, seemingly surprised at how rapidly the interview was moving on.
The girl's body was smooth and white with well-proportioned breasts and firm flat belly. Jane's police eye took in the slight discolouration and shine on the skin on her inner forearm. She wondered if the Jordans of the world were aware that this was a sign that police looked out for to identify hopheads. Not that many drugs were in themselves illegal these days but it was nice to know what you were dealing with.
"Now, Della, you know I'm advertising for a Bondswoman. Of course the services you would be required to fulfil would be sexual in nature?" His tone put a question into the statement as though he was confirming her understanding of the obvious. He didn't wait for a reply but continued. "And that for those services you would receive a sum of 50,000 new pounds.”
The girl's greed couldn't be contained. Jane wasn't surprised for in fairness it was a sum that could be expected to give financial security for her lifetime and if invested well and wisely give security for any children she might have.
"You can use me as often and however you might want for that amount of money!"
"How do you feel about bondage and flagellation?" The girl looked blank at the word flagellation. "Whipping, that is, and of course some surgical adjustment would be necessary to your body to meet my requirements. Larger breasts, face lift piercing and ringing of," he paused to consider his choice of words for the girl, "your cunt lips, nipples and nose to be pierced and ringed so that I can tether or torment you by them, as well as possibly tattooing your body." His voice had taken on a hard brutal tone. "Obviously stringent bondage of all types, of course." His voice took on a reflective quality. "The purely sexual side of your slavery would involve oral, anal and lesbian sex as well as what you might call normal sex." His voice returned to its previous tones. "Now how do you feel about that?"
The girl had been slowly going pale, there were few sexual practices that she had not taken part in, however, she had always been the one that dictated what the trick could or couldn't do and the thought of whippings and rings through her privates made her go cold. Already she had begun to scramble back into her clothes.
"You must be loopy if you think I'd let a mad bastard like you near me, not for five minutes let alone five years!” And with this the girl swept towards the door stopping before she left the room. "An I'll report you to the Pigs!"
"Please don't put yourself to the trouble, my dear, this is all legal, as long as the contract spells it all out in advance for the Bondswoman and they go winningly in to the contact."
"Yeah well, she'd have to be a really daft cunt to fall for that load of old malarky!” Della swept from the room, the doors banging behind her.
The lights went up and Jane came from behind the curtains and looked at Jordan, sitting there calm and impassive.
"Did you mean all that, Sir?”
"Oh yes. Not of course in the brutal manner that I spoke of to Della, but in essence yes. She was obviously a hophead and what is more I believe as truly sexual as an ice cube. Genital adornment, flagellation - I'm sure you understand the term flagellation, Officer." Jordan was enjoying himself trying to shock this chit of a policewoman. "Bondage and domination are my bag, as they say. And yes, before you ask, I do enjoy all the sexual practices that I've indicated." He paused and then said on a more serious note, "of course pain and discomfort is inherent in fulfilling my desires but I am not some sort of beast, the interest of my friends and me is in erotic torment not monstrous torture. Satisfying my desires can be quite arduous for the girls but," he smiled as he continued, "I think they receive as much pleasure as pain."
"And after the contract?"
"Oh well, any surgical changes to their person they have had done at my bequest, should they wish it, can be undone. In fact they can be returned in all aspects to as they were if they want." He thought for a moment. "Of course some changes, a few are irreversible and if they are required they are only done with the Bondwomen's consent."
"And what if into the contract the girl decides she doesn't like what you do to her?"
"Oh that's no problem, she can refuse to obey me at any time if it’s outside the contract."
"And if it isn't?"
"She can still refuse but the contract is null and void automatically. She can either stay as she is, if she has been cosmetically enhanced, or revert back to as she was before. But in either case she has to repay all expenses incurred by the Master." He smiled a smile that gave his face a look of satanic glee.
"So it really is a pact with the devil!"
"Most certainly! But for this pact it’s a five year span and not eternity." The smile came again. "And anyway I said I was into dominance."
He looked at this young WPC who was showing such interest in his affairs.
"Would you like to see one of my young ladies?" There was a moment’s pause as Jane took in what he was offering. She could feel her face flare red.
“Y-y-y-yes, ok."
"Zoe, come here." He spoke directly in to his wristwatch, simultaneously dimming the lights to recreate the audition environment and in a moment the black girl from reception entered the room and stood in the pool of light. "Take off your obeah, Zoe."
A whisper of static zip and the black silk lay in a pool around her feet. There had been no hint of hesitancy in her response although Jane was in clear sight of the girl. Although she could not see Jane in detail, there could have been no doubt as to who it was standing there in the shadow watching her but still she hadn't faltered.
"Display yourself, slave."
"Yes Master." Her hands had gone behind her head so that her firm pert breasts had been pushed harder through the already tight ring harness she wore instead of a conventional bra. Her waist was pulled in tight by a leather corset and she stood with her firm young bottom thrust back, legs wide straddled displaying clearly a naked mound bisected by a tight crotch strap. Golden rings glinted in the light at nipple and crotch and the pure sexuality of the creature made Jane's throb in her ears.
"Turn round, bend and expose that beautiful cunt of yours for the policewoman, Zoe."
Her hands had come down from behind her neck and she bent forward from the hips. Her supple firm body allowed her to clasp her arms around her thighs so that she could stare back between her widespread legs. Long slim fingers with their vivid red nails took hold of gleaming labial rings.
Jane could see clearly that each ring simultaneously pierced through inner and outer labia and she found herself ho
lding her breath as she watched Zoe pull on those rings. Slowly the pouting pussy opened around the thin strap that parted those fleshy love lips. She could just see part of the dildo fitted on the strap that plugged Zoe's moist vagina.
"Ok Zoe, that's enough you can put on your robe again and carry on as you were."
Dazed by what she had seen, Jane could only stand there as quickly the girl had covered herself and left the room.
"Well I think you've seen enough, Officer, to know there’s nothing underhand going on here." He had become bored now, playing with this young woman, shocking her pedestrian little soul. He wanted to get on with finding another toy.
Her voice sounded as though it were coming from someone else, she stepped in to the circle of light only so recently vacated and she addressed her words to the figure that was, comfortingly now, just a silhouette.
"I want to offer you my Bond - Master!" The Master was torn from her, it sounded so strange, but if he were to take her seriously she had to convince him.
Now it was Jordan's turn to be dazed.
"Wh - what!”
"Yes I want to become your Bondslave. The sergeant didn't really send me, I overheard him talking about you in the canteen." She repeated herself desperately. "I want to take up your Bond offer."
The conversation that followed took some time to complete. It took all Jane's efforts to convince Jordan that this was not some form of police entrapment. She told him about how she was dead ended in her career, the way in which she was just as much a slave of Fat Pig as her girls were to him. But in her case there was no time limit and no reward. She could leave the force but this would mean sentencing herself to the Dole. Any remote chance of alternative career would be blighted by the reference that the Pig would give her. He would take her leaving as a personal insult. She had to make money and what better way than this especially as it included what was her heart’s desire.
POLICEWOMAN IN BONDAGE Page 2