by Ian Smith
Before they went to breakfast at eight, Rosie arrived with a maid’s outfit for Charlie. The eighteen year-old put it on with a mixture of trepidation and relief and a slight and hidden bit of pride. It was low cut, like her sister’s, but the skirt was so short as to be almost not worth having. The slightest movement revealed her knickers and also her lower bottom and upper thighs, which still showed considerable bruising. The outfit embarrassed Charleen, but at least she now had one.
Sue had been assigned to the kitchen, whilst Mandy and Charleen worked together cleaning and preparing the guest rooms. They had learnt the importance of working hard and by the end of the afternoon all five rooms were gleaming. Even Forsythe found nothing to complain about, much to their relief. But both girls were wondering what the guests would be like and moreover what they would have to do to entertain these people. One thing they already knew: all guests were invariably male. It did not take much to realise that they were not coming for the fresh highland air. Charlie found herself getting more nervous as the day wore on and she knew her sister well enough to know that she too was similarly affected. They saw little of their mum, but when they did see her she was clearly apprehensive, though trying not to show it.
All six slaves had been instructed to appear in the main lounge in their maid uniforms at eight o’clock that evening. At five to six Charleen and Mandy, freshly washed and coiffeured, though Charleen’s hair never stayed in place for too long, arrived outside the door. Their mum was already there with Nicola, Rosie and Erica. Nobody was speaking: Nicola looked serene, Rosie and Erica just slightly less so.
At precisely eight by the wall clock - Forsythe tended to be punctual, even though Proby wasn’t - the door was opened and the butler ushered them in and gestured for them to stand in a line facing the five men, Proby and four newcomers, who were lounging in lush armchairs nursing drinks and already eyeing the girls up. Charlie stood straight in the line, Mandy to her right and her mum and further away the other three to her left. She looked anxiously at the four men. All looked to be in their forties or above and gave the impression of successful business types.
`“Well, here are my girls,” Proby, holding court as usual, told the other men. “You all already know Nicola, Erica and Rosie. Perhaps the new ones should introduce themselves.” He looked pointedly at Sue.
Charlie’s mum took a small step forward. “I’m Slave Sue, sirs,” she said steadily and then stepped back into line.
Charlie took a breath and stepped forward. “I’m Slave Charleen, sirs,” she managed and then stepped back. Mandy did the same.
Proby looked as if he was pondering something, but as he did so one of the other men said, “can’t we dogs get a proper look at the rabbits?” He came out of his thoughts and said, “most certainly. Do the honours, girls.”
Mandy, Charlie and Sue, unsure of what he meant, looked at the other three. To their dismay, Nicola, Erica and Rosie were all removing their maid’s outfits. Hesitantly, they followed suit. Charlie and Mandy both harboured brief and - as they themselves suspected - unrealistic hopes that it would be just down to undies, but Nicola was already shrugging out of her bra so, with red faces they removed all of their clothes, both of them trying unsuccessfully to pretend that the group of men were not there. They felt their faces go even redder as they stood there nude.
“Now then,” Proby said silkily, “I thought those self-introductions were a bit short on detail, so give the gentlemen a bit more info please and don’t leave out the embarrassing bits.”
Sue bit her lip but took the plunge first and stepped forwards once more, but naked now. “I’m Slave Sue,” she repeated. “I’m new to slavery, so I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to do sometimes, but whatever it is I’ll do it. I’m thirty-seven years old and I’m the mother of Slaves Charleen and Mandy.” She stepped back into line.
Charlie nerved herself to go next, but Mandy got in first and stepped forward. “I’m Slave Mandy. I’m nineteen years old, also new to all this, but I owe my master big time so I’ll do my best.” She stepped back into line.
Charlie took a breath and stepped forwards, feeling the men’s eyes on her bare body. She had noted Proby’s clear hint on embarrassing comments and was determined not to fail. “I’m Slave Charleen,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m eighteen, and I’m also new to this. I’m not very experienced at all, in fact I was a virgin until last night when my master ... when my master ...” - she struggled to find the right phrase, her face bright red - “... when my master sorted that out.” Her face now felt burning hot. “I ... I’m available for whatever you want me for.” She stepped back into line and tried to keep from fainting with shame.
“That’s better,” said Proby genially. “Well, gentlemen, they’re all yours.”
There was a sudden rush forwards from the men. Charlie felt her wrist being grabbed and she was led back to a chair. The man sat down and pulled her onto his lap so that she was sitting with her bare breasts almost in his face. His one arm was round her slim young waist, the hand on her bare thigh and the other hand stroking her legs. Instinctively she closed her legs to protect her most private areas, but was rewarded by a sharp slap on her thigh. “Don’t play hard to get, girlie,” the awful middle-aged man said. Feeling sick, she opened her thighs a little and felt his hand slip in and stroke her bald mons. “I like it that you’ve got your pussy shaved,” he murmured and she went a slight shade redder. Then, with sudden impulsiveness, he turned her over so that her head was almost on the floor and her bottom facing upwards. There was a sharp smacking sound and Charlie felt a sudden sting in her rear. He was spanking her!
Slap after slap rained down on her unprotected cheeks. Held firmly in place, Charlie could do nothing but bear it as well best she could. To try to take her mind off it, she looked round the room. Her sister was on another disgusting man’s lap and it looked as if he was French-kissing her. Elsewhere, Nicola sat astride another man, his trousers partially down,and Charlie realised that he was penetrating her, although it looked as though she was taking most of the initiative. Rosie was also entertaining another guest sexually, her head in his lap, her mouth buried in his crotch. She couldn’t see the others, who were behind her.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
Her bottom was starting to burn now, but suddenly he hauled back up into a sitting position. Now both his hands and his mouth were all over her. Charlie felt his tongue lapping on her nipples, which were hard from fear and shame, not any slightest desire. One of the hands was now well between her legs and investigating areas which, until last night, no man had ever been.
Charlie closed her eyes and tried to pretend she was somewhere else, doing something entirely different. It was impossible to convince herself. Instead, all she could do was endure the mauling and groping and nervously await the even more intimate and awful invasions to come.
Around eight o’clock the next morning. Charlie walked dejectedly back down to the dungeon that was now her home. She was stark naked and could only hope she didn’t bump into anybody. Her uniform and underwear were still in the reception lounge where they had met the guests last night. She had gone back there a few minutes ago and for some reason it was locked.
For a couple of hours last night she had felt like a package in a game of ‘pass-the parcel.’ She had been handed on from one man to the next, swapped with other girls until each of the four guests had had the opportunity to paw her elfin teenage body. All of them had also taken the opportunity to spank her and by the time the party broke up her bottom was very red. The first man to have grabbed her then regained her once more and with a firm grip on her wrist had led her up to his guest room. She had spent an unpleasant night being slobbered over by him, eventually being fucked before he fell asleep, snoring loudly. Early in the morning he had woken her and fucked her again and then dismissed her. Charlie, trying not to be seen as she was nude,
had gone back to the lounge for her outfit and then, thwarted in that, had returned to the cellar.
Her mum and sister were both there. Mandy was just drying herself from a shower and her mum was combing her hair. Charlie hurried past them, knowing that she smelt heavily of man-juice and that there were cum stains on her thighs and dived into the shower, braving the freezing water. Apart from a nod of greeting, nobody said anything. Charlie was pretty certain that her mum and Mandy had both also been rogered last night, but she wasn’t going to ask, particularly since she didn’t want the same question asked of herself, though it was pretty obvious.
As Charlie dried herself from the shower, trying to get warm again, Mandy came quietly over. “You and I have both been summoned to the playroom at ten,” Mandy gently informed her.
The playroom was a studio filled with bondage and BDSM apparatus. Charlie had heard of it and knew where it was but hadn’t been inside as yet, nor had she wanted to. “Just us?” she asked.
Mandy nodded. “We’ve got time to get some breakfast first,” the older girl said.
“I’m not hungry. Besides, our uniforms ...”
“I know,” Mandy said soothingly. “We’ll have to just wear undies. But you need to keep your strength up. Come on, put something on and let’s go.”
Reluctantly Charlie did as she was told, slightly grateful that their mum didn’t come with them. They went to the canteen, hearing the sounds from the more plush dining room next door as Rosie and Erica served the guests and thankful to be at least out of that. Charlie didn’t feel like eating but Mandy, although she herself looked pale and nervous, had a decent appetite (as she always did) and encouraged her until she got a good breakfast inside her.
A little while later, they were walking down the corridors towards the ‘playroom’, still dressed only in skimpy underwear. Mandy felt rather self-conscious and vulnerable, but she could sense that it was worse for her younger sister. Thankfully there was nobody about.
Suddenly Charleen broke the silence. “Mandy, about last night,” she began hesitantly.
Mandy sighed. “Look, Charlie,” she said, “do you want to talk about what you were doing last night?”
“Well, no, but ...”
“Then what makes you think I want to talk about what I was doing?”
Charlie shut up abruptly, then almost whispered, “sorry, Mandy.”
Mandy felt bad. “I’m sorry too, Charlie, but you have to understand this lot isn’t easy for me either. Or mum, come to that.”
“I suppose I’m being a drama queen,” Charlie said dejectedly.
“No, I know it’s hard for you too, but you gotta remember that we’re all suffering.”
“I will,” Charleen promised. “Do you think we’re going to be ... used that way again this morning?”
“I don’t know,” Mandy admitted. “Anyway, we’ll soon find out. This is the room.”
“Oh, God,” Charlie said in despair as Mandy knocked hesitantly on the door. A voice called them inside and they timidly entered.
The room was done up as a dungeon. Chains, cages, stocks and all sorts of things were all around. A vast array of whips, canes and floggers hung from the walls. The sights made both girls feel weak at the knees. Three of the guests plus Mr. Proby were sat on chairs facing them, the fourth guest was standing, dressed in a lab coat. The two girls shuffled unhappily into the centre of the room, very aware of how little they were wearing.
The man in the lab coat spoke, affecting a clearly fake German accent - he had spoken perfectly normal English last night. “Zo, ve may begin,” he announced to the other men. “Az you know, as a professor of human behaviour I am conducting studies into ze psychology of slave girls. Today’s experiment vill focus on ze effect that being from ze same family has on ze slavery. Ve are fortunate zat ve hav two suitable subjects here, two sisters. Zis afternoon ve vill conduct similar tests on two unrelated slave girls, slaves Rosie and Erica, as a comparison.” He turned his attention to the quivering girls. “Ve vill require ze girls to be undressed.”
Mandy had been fairly sure that this was coming, so she had psyched herself up and removed her bra and knickers immediately, feeling her face go red as her charms were bared before the men. She could only hope that Charlie would obey as well, but glancing discretely to her side she saw her younger sister equally fully displayed, her fresh face even redder.
“Good,” the pretend scientist said. “My assistant vill prepare ze younger slave girl, vile I attend to ze older one.”
Mandy watched as the man who she had been forced to entertain last night approached Charlie. In his hands he held several steel crocodile clips from which wires led to a box. “I’m afraid these will nip a bit, old girl,” he said to Charlie in an upper class accent that was just as fake as the supposed German. “Still, chin up, what?” Mandy watched as he grasped one of Charlie’s round boobs and attached one of the clips to the nipple. Charlie winced and stifled a gasp of pain. Moments later a second clip was attached to the other nipple, then he stooped down and Charlie’s face went even redder as he grasped one of her bald sex lips and attached a third clip. This time she could not suppress a gasp of pain as the crocodile teeth dug into her sensitive flesh, not quite sharp enough to puncture the skin but certainly tight enough to hurt. The last clip went on the other labia. Four wires now led ominously from Charlie’s naked body. The man positioned her in front of a solid pole which went from the floor to the ceiling and handcuffed her hands behind the pole so that she could only stand helplessly facing her sister.
Meanwhile, the self-styled ‘professor’ rather curiously made Mandy grasp a small dumbbell in each hand and then used gaffer tape to close her hands around them so that she could not let her go. Then he made her stand on a steel plate, facing Charlie, and put her arms out to her sides and rest them on two shelves, her back to the wall. Steel cuffs were attached to her ankles and waist to hold her body against the wall and more chains kept her wrists secured, loosely enough that she could left her arms off the shelves, but not so she could move them anywhere else. On the shelf on each side was a metal sensor on which her forearms rested.
“Very good,” the professor said as his ‘assistant’ returned to his seat. “Now zen, Slave Mandy, is it? Yes, az you can zee, your leetle zister is wired up to an electric box.” He held a control device in his hand. “Eef I turn zis svitch zo ...” He turned a dial.
Charlie let out a shriek of pain. He returned the dial to the off position.
“Az you can zee, the wires transmit an electric current to her body. It is a strong enough current to cause pain at ze best of times, but unfortunately for your sister the pain ees transmitted to her lovely body via her most sensitive areas, which makes it razzer vorse. Vould you like anozzer demonstration?” His hand hovered over the dial.
“No, please,” Mandy said urgently.
“Az you vish,” he replied genially. “Now, located on the shelves under your arms are two sensors. If you vould like to lift your arms up” - Mandy obeyed, the shackles allowing her to lift her forearms a couple of inches above the shelves - “now I turn ze svitch on again ...”
Charlie gasped in anticipation, but nothing more. No current flowed into her body.
“Az you can zee, if you keep your arms up ze sensor is not activated and your sister does not receive any current.”
Mandy had to hold her arms outstretched at shoulder height. Now she understood why the dumbbell weights had been taped to her palms. Keeping her arms up was already an effort. “How long?” she asked fearfully.
“I zink that ten minutes vould be a suitable period,” he replied casually.
Mandy’s heart sank. There was no way she could keep her arms up for that long. Already her shoulders were aching. The professor moved to a keyboard and pressed a button. A stopwatch display appeared on a plasma screen where everyb
ody could see it. It read 10.00. He pressed another button and the display changed to 09.59 and began counting down.
Mandy looked away from the clock and focused on her sister in front of her. Charlie, in turn, could only stare pleadingly at her older sibling.
“Ze key qvestion, of course, iz whezzer a slave will make ze extra effort for her sister, at cost to herself, compared to anozzer slave who iz called on to make ze effort for a slave who iz not related to her. Or, perhaps, not zo much vill she make ze effort, but how much extra effort she vill make.”
Mandy stopped listening to him and focussed on her situation.. Her arms were aching now. She glanced at the plasma stopwatch. Only a minute had gone by! Surely the thing was fixed to go slow? She looked away, back to Charlie. Time dragged on. She could feel herself sweating, the perspiration standing out on her brow. She glanced at the stopwatch. Three minutes now. Her arms were like lead, her shoulders on fire. Nobody could possibly keep this up for ten minutes. It was near impossible under normal circumstances, but the weights she was holding made it even worse. She needed to rest, just for a few moments. Her arms hovered dangerously close to the sensors. With a huge effort she forced them up, as high as the shackles would allow, but imperceptibly they soon began to droop again.
Mandy looked at the stopwatch again. It was still not yet four minutes.
Charlie shrieked.
Mandy cursed herself and forced her arms up again. She had let them go too low and they had touched the sensors. Charlie’s body relaxed as the current stopped. Mandy sought her sister’s blue eyes, trying to send a message of apology, almost forgetting that she could talk. Charlie, too, said nothing, just looked in supplication and sympathy at her elder sister’s plight.
The stopwatch crawled towards five minutes.
“ Now,” said their tormentor, “at zis point ve introduce an extra dimension. Ze qvestion is vezzer a distraction vill help ze older slave.” He flicked another switch on the console. Mandy and Charlie both tensed in dread, but nothing seemed to happen. “Vot do you zink, slave?” he asked Mandy. “Vill a distraction help you?”