Bound for Glory

by Sean O'Kane

  “You wanted me, Mistress?” the girl said.

  Anna’s brow crinkled in puzzlement, you didn’t call policewomen ‘Mistress’ even on the island, surely?

  The constable beckoned her over without looking away from Anna. The girl, dressed in a simple, wrap around cotton dress, belted at the waist, came forward and to Anna’s amazement the constable put an arm round her shoulders and began to knead her left breast through the fabric of the dress.

  “Marie here belongs to me, hun,” the constable said. “She’s my slave. And she tells me she’s seen some stuff up at your place that I need to know about. Haven’t you, you slut?” She tweaked the nipple of the breast she was stroking, fetching a surprised yelp from the girl.

  From her experience at arenas and with friends at some clubs, Anna knew about dominant and submissive relationships but had never seen them from close up. What mainly concerned her now however was the crafty smile Marie was now giving her.

  “Go get me the whip from the cabinet, slut!” the constable snapped suddenly. “Better do some interrogating so Miss Chatham here don’t think we’ve been making up stuff about her.”

  To Anna’s growing horror, the girl took from a filing cabinet drawer a multi tailed flogger in what looked like suede and brought it over to Mercy Fallon – although the name was looking increasingly bizarre. The woman had shrugged off her shirt and revealed that she was wearing a corset, one in shiny black satin with bright scarlet ribbons picking out the seams. Her breasts rippled fluidly as she moved to unzip and step out of her skirt. It hardly came as a surprise that she wore no knickers and her pubic mound and spectacular buttocks gleamed darkly under the mean lighting. Anna couldn’t help but be impressed by her physicality. She took the whip from the girl who simply unbelted her dress and was immediately entirely naked. She put herself flat against the bars at the front of Anna’s cell and manipulated her small breasts between the bars, then reached up and clasped the bars with her hands.

  Meanwhile the constable was striding around behind her, clearly quite at ease with being nearly naked in the police station and with a whip in her hand. Anna backed up to the rear wall of the cell, frightened of what might happen and she watched as the constable switched on an old fashioned tape machine, slotted in a tape and began speaking.

  “It’s eight fifteen on June the 20th, I am going to interrogate Marie Leroy about allegations she has made concerning Anna Chatham of Hilltop Villa on the East Road.”

  Then, leaving the tape running and before Anna’s astonished gaze she wheeled round and delivered a lash with what looked like her full strength across Marie’s back, making her jerk forward against the bars. The smack echoed in the bare little room and hardly before it had faded, Anna saw the constable draw the whip back again. She watched as the woman’s full lips pursed with effort as she swung the whip forward again, putting her full weight behind it. Again the smack was shockingly loud and again Marie jerked forwards, but her hands remained clasped round the bars. A third lash smacked home and Marie’s face registered pain this time but it was followed by that crafty smile aimed at Anna’s horrified expression.

  “Now tell me again what you say you saw at Miss Chatham’s house, you whore!” the constable barked at her slave.

  “I saw all kinds of drugs and stuff, Mistress,” the girl said with a sidelong sneer at Anna.

  “Is this true Miss Chatham?” the constable asked.

  “No! No of course it isn’t!” Anna protested.

  “There! You lying piece of filth!” the constable yelled at her slave and immediately began to beat her again. The girl spread her legs wider to steady herself and to Anna’s horror began to hump and rotate her hips, acknowledging each lash with a soft grunt of what increasingly sounded like pleasure.

  At some point when the girl had taken another ten or so lashes, the beating stopped again.

  “You still saying that nice Miss Chatham had drugs in her house?” the constable asked, coming up close behind her slave and stroking her back.

  “Yes, Mistress. Crack, crystal, jack, skunk, super-twos, beefy; you name it, it was all over!”

  Mercy leaned against the girl’s back and one hand came through the cell bars to cup and knead the girl’s breast.

  “I’m sorry, Anna. You can see how it is. This little piece of trash,” and here she grasped the nipple and pinched and twisted it hard, making the girl fling her head back and cry out, “has made these wicked allegations against you and I gotta get to the truth.”

  “That’s not all, Mistress,” the girl put in suddenly, openly grinning at Anna. “You should’ve seen the sheets! They was all fucking all the hours god sends! And more, I seen it!”

  “How do you mean, ‘more’?”

  Anna watched as the constable’s hand went down between the girl’s spread legs. Some of her friends were lesbian but never had she actually seen, in the flesh, one woman touch another’s sex, for some reason she couldn’t look away as the girl’s body shifted just slightly to allow for easier penetration.

  “Some of the girls were taking it up the ass! And they was doing it out by the pool. I seen them, bold as brass!”

  It was all true of course but Anna had never thought it mattered particularly, they weren’t disturbing anyone. Yes, of course there were drugs, but there were drugs everywhere these days. But it wasn’t as if they had been walking down the high street shooting up. Or buggering in the supermarket. But all of a sudden it seemed to matter a lot.

  “I’m going to give you another thirty lashes, you cheap slut. And then we’ll see if you learn some respect for the nice lady!”

  The constable stood back and resumed the whipping. This time she also began to beat the girl’s buttocks and thighs. Anna could see the tails wrapping around and snapping at the thick bush of pubic hair. But now the girl was definitely responding, writhing sensuously against the bars, crying out and throwing her head back, her expression one of intense pain or pleasure, Anna couldn’t tell which. She had seen plenty of floggings in the arenas, but they had all been at a distance or on screens and anyway, they were only real slaves. Not sex slaves like this one. A couple of her boyfriends had taken her into dungeons at various arenas but she had never paid much attention to what was being done to the slaves – why should she? – all she needed to know was that whatever it was it got the boys good and hard and they fucked her brilliantly.

  The lashes just went on falling relentlessly and the girl writhed and cried under them, her upper thighs even beginning to gleam with moisture, just as runnels of sweat began to trickle down between her breasts. It was a strangely sensual scene and Anna couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight of the writhing girl, who went on panting and gasping even when the lash finally fell still.

  Mercy sauntered up behind her and grabbed her hips, pulling her back against herself.

  “My little fuckbunny needs some petting?” she asked. The girl nodded and suddenly Mercy reached forwards and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. “Now you going to apologise for saying all those bad things about Miss Chatham?” she growled.

  “No, Mistress.”

  Mercy turned a sorrowful face to Anna. “You see how it is? She gets ideas stuck in that silly head of hers...but maybe, just maybe, she’s telling the truth this time. Maybe I’d better ask you.” Mercy’s face turned hard, she let go of Marie’s head and the girl’s sneer was now plain to see.

  “Look, I don’t know what all this is about! It’s all lies! They were just friends. It was just a party!” she blustered.

  With a sweep of her powerful arm, Mercy pushed the girl away and unlocked the door to Anna’s cell. Anna backed away fearfully.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have ask you to accompany me, Miss,” she said, standing in the door with arms akimbo. “If you don’t come quietly I’ll have you brought along and it’ll go all the harder with you!”

  She backed out and Anna followed, her stomach knotted with fear. The girl was calmly putting her dress
back on, as if she hadn’t just been thrashed to orgasm, and she came forward to take Anna’s arm and escort her out of the room and into the corridor with Mercy following behind, making no attempt to dress. They walked down a stone flagged passage, with metal doors opening off it until they came to the end and on the left another door stood open, they went in and Anna tried to back out but just walked into Mercy’s solid bulk.

  In the centre of the floor was a simple arrangement of bars bolted down to the stone. A low, horizontal bar, at ankle height was nearest her, then there was a bar at waist height and on the far side of that another low bar. And on the wall behind them was a rack of canes.

  “No!” Anna screamed. “No! You can’t do this!”

  “Shush, child! Of course I can!” Mercy said dismissively, pushing her forwards and slamming the door. “And don’t bother screaming for help ‘cos there ain’t none.”

  Anna put up the best fight she could and by the time they had her chained down, even Mercy was breathing hard.

  “You one strong girl for a rich-bitch honky!” she acknowledged before going to the wall to select a cane. Anna could only follow this by watching her shoes. They had got her to stand beyond the first of the low bars and by brute force, Mercy had bent her forwards so that Marie could buckle cuffs around her wrists and chain her to the other low bar. Once she was tethered they could take their time about shackling her desperately kicking legs, but eventually they too were shackled to the first low bar. Now she was bent over immovably, her hair hanging down over her face.

  “Get her ready, Marie,” Mercy said and Anna felt her skirt lifted and the girl’s hands pulling at her knickers. It was the most humiliating moment of her life and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She felt the scrap of lace pulled down until it was a tight line across her thighs, then the skirt was tucked firmly up at the small of her back and she was displayed for Mercy or for anyone who chose to enter the room. She struggled furiously to free her hands, wrenching them against the leather cuffs.

  “All you’ll do is cut yourself, girl,” Mercy chided her, but Anna just couldn’t stand the loss of freedom and went on struggling until the first cane stroke landed. It seemed to come out of nowhere and robbed her of breath as the initial numbness faded and an appalling, blazing stinging grew inside her. Then the second one landed and she screamed. The third stroke cut her scream off and just left her gasping and choking. Tears blinded her and her bottom was a fiery inferno that eclipsed all her problems with being tied down.

  Then Marie lifted her hair up and wiped a cool flannel over her face. “She’s fine, Mistress,” she said as she stood up again.

  “Okay, Miss Chatham,” Mercy said. “You going to tell me about keeping a disorderly house and allowing drugs to be dealt on the premises?”

  Even in her state, Anna was outraged at the blatant attempt to ramp up the charges against her.

  “No! I never did any of that!” she shouted.

  The caning began again. It was pain beyond anything Anna could ever have imagined. Three more times she heard the swooshing in the air behind her and three more strokes fell one after the other, taking no account of her ability to take them or not. She screamed and snivelled her way through them. Only in their wake did she realise that she was crying so much her nose was running. Once more Marie wiped her off and pronounced her to be alright.

  “You sure there wasn’t anything immoral and illegal going on in your villa?”

  Anna didn’t react straightaway, her senses seemed to be disorientated by the pain, she couldn’t think straight.

  “Yes! I mean, no! I don’t know!” she sobbed.

  “Tch,” Mercy said. “It’s alright girl. The cane takes them like that the first time. You just have a think about what you want to tell me.”

  Anna nearly fainted with gratitude.

  “While I beat you some more,” Mercy finished and began to beat her again immediately. Anna’s screams even deafened herself as six more lines of bitter, scalding agony were piled on.

  Marie looked at her a bit more carefully this time. “She’s ok for more if it’s needed, Mistress,” she decided eventually.

  “Oh, I don’t think it’s going to be necessary, is it Miss Chatham? You’re going to tell me there was all sorts of bad stuff going on.”

  “Yes....please! Yes, there was! There was perverted sex and drug dealing and I knew all about it, and I took money for the girls being used and I took money from the dealers. Whatever you want! Please don’t hurt me any more!” She didn’t know where the words came from, she was vaguely aware that she was making up more than Mercy was, but it didn’t matter. She just had to stop the pain.

  While Marie undid the shackles Anna heard the click as a tape machine was turned off. It didn’t seem to matter here that confessions were obtained under duress. Somehow she had to get out of here, back at home she could sort things out. But this was a nightmare.

  The two women half carried her back to her cell and gently laid her on her bunk, face down. Then through tear blurred eyes, Anna watched as Mercy strapped on a huge plastic cock and shafted Marie with it over her desk from behind. Then they turned the light out and left. Still sobbing in pain and exhaustion, Anna slept.

  The next morning Marie served her with a bowl of lukewarm porridge and gingerly Anna sat up on her bed to eat it. She was amazed that apart from some considerable stiffness, she didn’t appear to be in too bad shape after the previous night. When Mercy entered and unlocked her cell, giving her a knowing smile, she was able to walk out with some degree of dignity.

  This time she was taken to a courtroom and found the chief inspector was installed as judge, complete with a small, powdered wig perched on his head. The furnishings were quite modern and Mercy pushed her into a waist-high dock in light coloured wood. To her left a recorder sat; opposite sat Marie and Mr Cutts and slightly above them to her right sat Chief Inspector Frazer, who once again wasted no time.

  “Court will come to session. Miss Anna Chatham is accused of fraudulently obtaining credit from Island Homes Catering and Cleaning Ltd., allowing her home to be used for the consumption of illicit substances, receiving money from said consumption and providing girls for the sexual use of her guests and receiving money for the same. In short allowing her home to be run as a brothel, and allowing drug dealing and pimping. How do you plead?”

  Anna had hardly woken properly but managed to stumble out a plea of innocent.

  The chief inspector and judge was silent for a moment, shuffling his papers and Anna got the definite feeling that she had said something they didn’t want to hear.

  “Miss Chatham,” he said eventually. “I have heard the accusations made by Miss Leroy and heard and read your confession. I have the testimony of a respected island businessman...Are you sure it’s a good idea to waste this court’s time with fruitless pleas of innocence?”

  Anna gaped at him, unsure of where to begin but eventually settled on protesting that any confession had been extracted under torture and was invalid.

  The chief inspector raised his eyebrows. “Can you substantiate these allegations?” he asked.

  Anna began to snort a reply but realised that the proof lay just under her very brief skirt, it would mean displaying her bottom for all and sundry. She blushed and stuttered into silence.

  “Very well then,” the inspector went on and before Anna could gather her thoughts, he banged his gavel. “You are found guilty on all counts, you will serve fifteen years hard labour. Take her down!” The gavel banged again and Anna nearly fainted from shock but Mercy was beside her and supporting her, bizarrely enough.

  “However,” the judge went on, “the UK government has requested extradition and we have agreed, so you will serve your sentence in the UK.”

  “You’re going home!” Mercy whispered and Anna was in such a state of confusion that she nearly hugged the constable for sheer joy. Home! Once there she could sort this nightmare out. But first there was more court busi
ness to attend to.

  The judge had descended from the bench and was talking to Mercy.

  “Bring the prisoner here, constable. I want to see if she has been badly treated.”

  Anna tottered after Mercy, down from the dock and only protested feebly when pushed hard in the back so that she collapsed, face down onto a table. She felt hands working at the hem of her skirt at the back and suddenly regained some of her senses. She kicked out and tried to rear up off the table but Mercy or someone was putting their weight on her and she couldn’t move.

  “No!..Uh, no!” she sobbed as she felt remorseless fingers tearing her knickers down again. Then she felt cool air on her buttocks and once again she was on display to everyone standing behind her. She sobbed brokenly this time, unable to fight any more; humiliated, in despair and beaten in all ways, Anna Chatham allowed her world-famous bottom to be admired and fondled by total strangers.

  “Constable Fallon,” the inspector said, running his hands along the bruised lines left by the cane. “What have I told you about caning prisoners?”

  “Always do it neatly and hard, Sir.”

  “Right! These lines...here....here....and here are sloppily laid on and crooked. The poor girl has a right to feel abused! Marie, tend to Miss Chatham’s bruises.”

  “Huh?” Anna could only make a disbelieving grunt at the conversation. But then she jerked in shock as she felt something soft and wet applied to her left cheek and realised it was Marie’s mouth and then her tongue was gently licking at a bruise, and her hands were stroking her thighs, running up the inner sides and then curving off but following the line of the buttocks, coming so close to her cunt but just not touching. Anna squealed in horror, she had never wanted to be touched by another woman. They had never appealed to her sexually and here she was being licked and stroked by one – in public. Desperately she threw herself about, getting her hands under her at last and pushing herself up. But then the inspector’s strong hands grasped hers and easily pinned them behind her back, where she felt the cold steel of cuffs snap onto her wrists. Once again she was helpless. It had happened to her more in the past twenty-four hours than ever before in her life. Desperately she clenched her thighs together, determined at least not to show anything more than she had to. But after a few moments she felt Marie’s tongue begin to quest at the slit that divided her lips and she even felt the girl’s breath from her nose tickling her anus. She grimaced in disgust and began struggling again, but with her hands now secured, the weight on her back had decreased and with a painful tug on her hair, Mercy dragged her face up by it.