by William Avon
“I promise.”
“Do you swear to obey all orders given to you by your masters in SCRAW, and to accept all punishments they may give you?”
Jemima gave a little shudder. “I do.”
“Are you ready to serve your masters?”
“I... am.”
Jackson pointed at Amber, who turned about to present her rear to Jemima. “This girl is our bondslave. Kiss her bottom and stay on your hands and knees while you do it!”
And Jemima obeyed, carefully kissing each cheek of Amber’s upturned bottom.
Jackson pointed at Sally, who hiked up her skirt to expose her pubes.
“Kiss her cunny mouth,” Jackson ordered.
Again Jemima obeyed, exchanging a quick, blushing grin with Sally as she did so.
Fly buttons were popped open and five rods of flesh sprang out like flagpoles.
“Kiss each of our cocks,” Jackson ordered. “And say ‘Master’ each time you do...”
Jemima started at the sight of her first erections. Then her fear turned to curious wonder... and she obeyed.
And when she was finished and knelt demurely before them once more, her pretty face flushed with the thought of what she had done, they took off their masks.
Jemima gave a little gasp when she saw their faces. “Oh, it’s you... masters.”
The boys smiled down at their new compliant slave, thinking of the delights to come.
Then Jemima told them everything about Arabella and Sue.
Preparations
“Will the boys... our masters, I mean, want to put their thingies, you know, inside me sometime?” Jemima asked hesitantly.
Amber smiled, amused by the girl’s naivety of speech.
“They’re called ‘penises’, properly speaking, though the boys call them ‘cocks’ or ‘pricks’. Yes, I think they’d love to put them inside you. They wanted to earlier, but Sally thought you needed to be broken in gently. You’re a virgin. The first time should be a bit special. Don’t worry, it’ll happen soon enough. Right now we’ve got to concentrate on getting these things finished.”
It was a couple of hours since Jemima’s initiation into the service of SCRAW. She and Amber were working busily in the loft. They were both naked and chained to posts by their ankles, with enough slack to allow them to fetch tools and other items from the selection the boys had brought up.
They had all been shocked by Jemima’s graphic description of the torments Arabella was putting Sue Drake through. Jemima had ended with a plea to rescue Sue as soon as possible, before Arabella inflicted some serious injury on her.
The idea of rescuing a genuine damsel in distress appealed to the quirky side of Amber’s nature, and she’d have done it even if it hadn’t also been a means of getting back at Arabella. None of the others had needed further encouragement to agree they should make the attempt, and they decided to do it that very night. Jemima had insisted, with surprising stubbornness, that she would go with them. She knew the Hall grounds and the best route to the playhouse, and she said that when they found Sue, she could reassure her that they meant her no harm.
If Jemima was to participate in the rescue and consequently be out all night, she had to have an alibi. Sally took up Miss Newcombe’s offer and went to School Cottage to look over her possible new home. While she kept her occupied, the boys took Jemima into the school office to use its phone. She made two calls; one to her home to tell them Arabella had invited her to stay overnight at the Hall, the other to the Hall itself to leave a message for Arabella saying she was feeling unwell and had gone home. Jemima admitted that Arabella might think she was simply making an excuse to keep away after the humiliating treatment she had received earlier, but doubted Arabella would care. None of the other snooties were likely to check up on her. As to her parents, they would be flattered to think she had been invited to stay over at the Hall.
When the calls had been made, the boys brought Jemima back to the loft and secured her with Amber. They then went off to continue their assigned jobs about the school and to prepare for tea, leaving Amber, advised by Jemima, to plan their entry to the Hall grounds and make whatever special equipment they needed. The boys also left their copy of THE CARE AND TRAINING OF BONDSLAVES with them. There were diagrams of certain devices within it that they wanted Amber and Jemima to make using the tools and materials they had accumulated in making the Training Horse the previous day.
It was as they were working on this task, shaping rope, wire and leather, that Jemima asked about the boy’s intentions. Free to reveal her secret feelings at last, questions were pouring out of her. After pondering Amber’s answer for a moment, she asked: “Will it hurt?”
“Only briefly. Nothing like the paddling you’ve already had. And you’ll probably bleed a little, but that’s quite normal first time.” She looked at the younger girl closely. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Jemima smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Oh yes. I know it now. Anyway, I can’t help myself. It’s what I am.” She blushed. “I’ve had dreams about this sort of thing happening to me, though I didn’t know enough to make them very accurate.”
“And how does reality measure up to your dreams?”
Jemima looked about her at the loft, the Training Horse standing in the corner and the ropes and chains hanging from the walls of Amber’s pen. “Oh, this is much better! It feels like the right sort of place for what’s happening to me... to us. I like it here working like this, now I know what I am and what’s expected of me. I don’t have to play Arabella’s games or be made to hurt anybody.” She frowned. “But it was exciting to watch it happen. Even when I hated what Arabella was doing to Sue, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. And I like to be tied up and punished myself. Sally said she could enjoy that sort of thing as well. Do you?”
“I’m getting to like it more than I did,” Amber admitted dryly. “It’s fun if it’s done properly with sex mixed in with it. The boys are learning.”
“Knowing you’re helpless is exciting, isn’t it?” Jemima said brightly. “Thinking of all the things they might do to you - like in the book.”
The slave training book had fascinated Jemima even more than Amber. She had leafed through it as soon as the boys had left; shocked, amazed and utterly absorbed. As soon as they had finished what they were making she wanted to look further.
Jemima was frowning again. “But why is it different when Arabella does it? I came when she made Sue lick my cunny - I couldn’t help myself - but I didn’t enjoy the rest of it much.” She blushed. “But it felt so different when you were licking me in between the smacking and the clothes pegs. Why?”
Amber considered. “Maybe because there’s a point to it with the boys. They like playing with you and seeing you suffer. You feel that. It helps you find the pleasure in it all for yourself. I think Arabella’s mean at heart. You know you can never satisfy her. All you’re left with is the pain.”
Jemima’s face darkened. “Sue said we can’t choose who masters us. I think she loves Arabella in a way. She’d do anything for her if she got a little love back.”
“Poor kid,” said Amber.
A little later the trapdoor opened and Sally climbed up into the loft. She brought cheese, apples, bread and a sweet cake for each of them from the village. They tucked in hungrily.
“How did your meeting with Miss Newcombe go?” Amber asked Sally between bites.
Sally looked thoughtful. “She showed me about her cottage. It’s quite a nice place. There’s a little bedroom sort of tucked in under the roof that she said I could have. I never had my own room before. Then we talked about what my duties would be. Doesn’t sound so bad. I think she’d be strict, mind.”
Amber looked at Sally with interest. There was a wistful tone in her voice that she hadn’t heard before. “Yes,” she agreed. “She
struck me as being pretty tough when I met her. But do you think you can keep her occupied tonight? This job’s going to take some time. We have to be sure she won’t make her rounds and find the boys missing.”
“No trouble,” Sally said confidently. “She wants me, I could smell it. I’ll make her show just how much. That’ll keep her out of your way.”
Night Moves
Miss Newcombe opened the school’s timeworn front door of black oak to find Sally standing in the pool of radiance cast by the porch light.
“Oh, Sally. This is very late for you to call.”
“Well, see, I thought about what you said earlier, and there’s something really important I have to find out.”
“Can’t it wait until morning? I was just about to go to bed.”
“No. This is something we have to get straight right now. Well, you going to keep me standing out here all night? Maybe you think I’m going to nick the silver?”
“Of course not...”
“Not worth it, eh? Just plated?”
Miss Newcombe was forced to smile. “I simply mean that I’m not sure that it’s proper for me to receive private visitors at this hour. There are five boys on the premises that I am responsible for. They should be asleep by now and I do not wish them disturbed.”
“Well I don’t plan on waking them. It’s you I come to see.”
“Then I suppose you’d better come in.”
Sally looked about her at the entrance hall. The school coat of arms was hung on one wall over a half-filled trophy cabinet. Everything else was sombre dark-polished wood.
“Cheerful place,” she observed. “Ain’t you got a room of your own here?”
“Well, yes, but...”
“Come on, then. Up here, is it? She started up the main stairs with Miss Newcombe trailing at her heels.
In their dormitory, the boys listened while the two sets of footsteps passed along the corridor. Only when they heard the distant click of Miss Newcombe’s door closing did they throw back their bedclothes. In a moment they had slid one of the dark wooden wall panels that lined their room aside. From the cavity between it and the old rough stone wall they extracted a homemade rope ladder and a bamboo pole with a hook on one end. They had made the devices months earlier to allow them to get onto the roof and so gain access to the skylight over Miss Newcombe’s bedroom, which had afforded them many interesting sights. Tonight the ladder and pole would help them enter the grounds of Markham Hall.
Two minutes later they were dressed in the old dark trousers and jumpers they had been wearing for work and were letting themselves out onto the fire escape. From the foot of this it was only a twenty yard dash to the old stable block which had served Cranborough House when it was still a private residence. Using the keys they had been given while clearing the building, they let themselves inside and swarmed up the ladder to the loft.
As they entered they found their slaves putting the finishing touches to their body camouflage. Amber had thinned down some shoe polish the boys had provided, and using scraps of rag, she and Jemima were artistically smearing themselves with brown and black stripes and spots. As a result their skins now looked as though they belonged to some species of exotic big cat. The effect was so striking that the boys paused to admire them, fingering and stroking them curiously. Jemima looked shyly proud as the boys turned her round to examine her efforts, clearly excited by being handled so intimately.
When they were satisfied, Harris handed over Jemima’s shoes and Amber’s trainers, which was all they were allowed to wear on the night’s adventure.
“Have you brought my set of lockpicks?” Amber asked, as she pulled her trainers on. “We won’t get very far if you’ve forgotten them.”
Jackson pulled a flat leather case from his pocket. “I’ve got them. I’ll give them to you when they’re needed, not before. Just in case you think of using them to try to get away yourself.”
“As though I would,” Amber grinned.
Jackson caught her by the hair and hauled and twisted until she stood on tiptoe. He slid his free hand up between her legs, took hold of her delicate inner labia between thumb and forefinger and pinched.
“Sorry, Master!” Amber gasped in pain. “Your slave shouldn’t have spoken out of turn. Please forgive her.”
“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t take any chance to escape,” Jackson said, pinching a little harder and enjoying the contortion of her features. “We’re not stupid. That’s why we had you make the harnesses.”
“We have,” Amber winced again. “Look, they’re over there. We did the best we could with what we had. They’re almost exactly like the diagram in the book.”
While Jackson kept hold of Amber, the other boys examined the two creations of old leather, cord, rings and buckles.
“They look all right,” Bickley reported after a minute of tugging and twisting joints and knots. “Bit rough in places, but they won’t get out of these in a hurry.”
Jackson let go of Amber. His gaze passed over her to Jemima, who was looking on with wide-eyed fascination. “Don’t forget you belong to us,” he told them sharply. “We all want to get this Sue Drake away from Arabella, but that’s so we can have her. She’ll belong to us, not you. You’re our tools, that’s all. We’re using you to guide us and open locks. You do exactly as we tell you from now on, understand? Now, beg to have the harnesses put on you.”
Amber quickly knelt down and extended her arms towards him with her wrists crossed; a classic gesture of submission.
“Please Master, I beg you to bind me so I can be made to serve as your tool,” Amber said. And by her side Jemima echoed her words, copying her gesture exactly.
Jackson nodded, and the boys began fitting them into the harnesses. Amber saw Jemima’s chest rising and falling rapidly with excitement, her nipples hard and pointed. How she’s loving this, Amber thought. So do I, if I’m honest, she amended mentally as leather rasped against her flesh. The familiar fluttering, stomach churning thrill was rising inside her again. Why had she made that silly remark in such a mocking tone? To bring just that sort of response?
In a minute it was done and they stood side by side, harnessed and helpless; ready to go where their masters led them.
Broad padlocked collars and belts encircled their necks and waists. Leather gag straps closed their mouths. Cuffs on their wrists were linked by a rope threaded through a ring on the back of their belts. When this was slack it allowed their arms some freedom of movement to perform simple tasks. When it was pulled in and the middle of the loop hung over a hook fixed to the back of their collars, their arms were automatically pulled behind them into a restrained position. Any resistance only tightened their collars.
From a belt that ran about their chests just below the undercurve of their breasts, two straps ran vertically up over their nipples. These straps were split down the middle for part of their length, allowing their nipples to poke through, held in place by the tendency of the slit in the thick leather to close. The upper ends of these straps were tied to cords that ran through a ring on the front of their collars where they were joined to leather leashes. When the straps were allowed to follow the natural curves of their breasts the slits gaped slightly and the pinching of their nipples was bearable, but any tightening of the leash straightened the straps and brought the edges of the slits painfully close together.
The boys spent a couple of minutes experimentally tugging on Amber and Jemima’s leashes and listening to their muffled squeaks of pain and seeing their faces screw up behind their gags. When they were assured their slaves would follow where they led, they gathered up their equipment and, by the light of hooded torches, stole silently out into the night.
Miss Newcombe’s bedroom was situated close by the school sickroom, and was where she stayed overnight when required. It was a small neat room with a sin
gle skylight set in the sloping ceiling, it was simply furnished with an iron frame bed, side cabinet, single armchair and dressing table. On the dressing table was a three panelled mirror, a hairbrush and a few pots and jars of cosmetics. Before it was a small ladder-backed chair. A circular rug was laid beside the bed. A robe and sensible modest nightgown hung on the back of the door.
Sally took all this in as she dropped her carpetbag in the corner. “This’ll do, I suppose, though your cottage would be more cosy.”
“Sally, you can’t be thinking of staying here for the night. I thought you had some lodgings arranged.”
“I do, but there’s something I gotta know first, or else I can’t decide about your offer. You still want me as a bondslave, don’t you?”
“Yes, but this is not the time or place to...”
Sally stepped forward quickly and before Miss Newcombe could protest, kissed her forcefully full on the lips. After a moment’s instinctive resistance, Miss Newcombe melted into Sally’s embrace, put her own arms about the smaller girl and returned the kiss with passion.
When they finally pulled apart slightly for air, they were both flushed. Sally grinned approvingly.
“That was good. I thought you really liked women better than men.”
“Oh, I like men well enough,” Miss Newcombe said easily. “But there are more... possibilities with women and sex.”
“And if I was your slave you’d want to try them all out on me.”
“Of course,” Miss Newcombe admitted candidly. “Owning a pretty thing like you, who wouldn’t? But I do want a presentable servant as well. I think you could be one with the right encouragement and training. And... I do genuinely want to save you from the path you are taking. It would be such a waste.”
Sally considered for a moment. “How much do you want to save me?”
Miss Newcombe frowned. “What do you mean?”