by Ian Smith
“Slave Erica,” Proby summoned. The gorgeous, glamorous blonde stepped forwards unhappily. Proby studied the sheet, letting her sweat. “Reasonable report,” he said at length, “but still lacking real enthusiasm. Six strokes will do, I think.”
Erica knelt and bent over the footstool without protest, flicking her skirt up as Nicky had done to reveal her beautiful tanned bottom. If she’s getting six, Charlie thought nervously, I’m in for a whole load. Life here was becoming one long interminable nightmare.
Erica took her six strokes, gasping a couple of times. Her bottom, already well tanned, turned a darker shade. She was dismissed and Rosie called forward next.
“Also reasonable, just a little hesitant occasionally,” Proby told her. “Also six, I think.” Rosie took her six whacks, her paler bottom reddening very clearly, and was also dismissed. The three experienced slaves had all now left - or escaped - the room.
“Slave Sue.” Charlie watched her mother take a hesitant step forward.
Proby studied for some time. “A fair start,” he said at length. “Some hesitation, perhaps more to uncertainty than anything else. Yes, not too bad. I think eight strokes will suffice.”
Charlie closed her eyes for a moment. Her poor mum! But Sue knelt over the footstool without argument and, following the others’ examples, lifted her skirt to show her shapely posterior. She whimpered as each of the eight strikes landed, but held her position. Perhaps worst for her was being dismissed afterwards, and wondering what her daughters were going to get. She looked at them in aguish as she reluctantly left the room.
Charlie was now having to work to stop herself from physically shaking. But she knew Mandy would be next and she last.
“Slave Mandy.”
Charlie watched her older sister take a step forward and try to remain at attention. Once again Proby let her sweat for some time. At long last he looked at her.
“Well, you are inexperienced sexually as well as in slavery, so we couldn’t expect too much at first. However, there are one or two comments that suggest you will improve. And of course the paddle will help encourage you, won’t it?”
“Yes, master,” Mandy said, trying to sound polite and submissive.
“Twelve strokes.”
Mandy knelt over the footstool and also revealed her bottom, well rounded and pale-skinned apart from a number of clear bruises from the weekend. Charlie watched in desperation and dread as she took twelve whacks. By the end of it not an inch of her skin remained pale. She rose to her feet stiffly and kept her eyes firmly in front of her as she left. Charlie, though, could see the tears rolling down her sister’s cheeks.
Now it was just her left. She took the obligatory step forward, feeling faint.
“Very inexperienced,” observed Proby as he read the sheet. “Shy, too. No real enthusiasm or forwardness, in fact sometimes clear reluctance. Hmm. Not good.”
I’m eighteen, Charlie thought to herself. Less than a week ago I was still a virgin and no man had ever seen me naked. This weekend I’ve let four middle-aged, fat and unattractive men do whatever they like with me. I’ve not drawn the line at anything. Isn’t that enough? But she knew the answer.
“I have set a rule that the maximum number of correctional strokes is twenty-five,” Proby told her. “Obviously outright disobedience would be dealt with in a more serious way but at least that isn’t the case here.” Obviously, thought Charlie grimly. He studied the sheet again. “You will receive twenty-four.”
Charlie was expecting the full twenty-five. One less wasn’t much relief. She knelt over the footstool and lifted her short skirt, in effect baring her bottom and waited, trembling slightly.
“Normally slaves are expected to take their correction properly,” Proby observed, “but for this many strokes I think it better that you be tied down.”
Charlie found herself saying, “please, master, I don’t need to be tied down. I know I’ve been a bad girl.” The statement surprised her as much as anybody. Proby shrugged and said, “very well. Proceed, Forsythe.”
When the first strike landed, Charlie could not believe how much it stung. It was very different to the other instruments she had experienced over the last week: the sensation was over a much wider area, less sharp, but still awful. Her already much-abused bottom immediately began to throb unbearably.
Each successive stroke was just as painful by itself, but also increased the throbbing and made her cheeks more tender so that the stroke after that was always even worse. By the fifth, Charlie was gasping with each stroke. By the time the dozen came up, she was crying. By fifteen, she was twitching and writhing continuously.
At this point, Proby’s voice cut through the mist of pain in her mind. “Would you prefer to be held down for the remainder?” he said, almost politely. She could only nod, no longer capable of speaking but aware of how close she was to getting up and running away. She expected to be tied down in some way, but instead Proby simply came over and lay down on her bare back, his weight effectively pinning her down and making it impossible for her to get away.
Another nine strokes landed before she felt his weight lift off her. Charlie had long since lost count. It didn’t matter: nothing mattered except the pain. Sobbing and crying uncontrollably, she hauled herself to her feet and, barely aware of his dismissal of her, staggered from the room.
It was over an hour later when she returned to the dungeon which was now her home. Mandy was on domestic duty, her own bottom still throbbing, but Sue had been allowed to wait for her younger daughter. Charlie had spent the hour curled up in a little ball in a secluded corner of one of the closets, just wanting to be alone.
Sue was shocked to see the state of Charlie’s bottom, which had turned purple and blue with bruising. “How many?” she asked fearfully.
“Twenty-four,” Charlie replied emotionlessly.
“My God!” said Sue. “Come and lie down on the bed and I’ll put some of the witch-hazel on it.”
Charlie shook her head vigorously. “I’ve got to learn my lesson and improve,” she said doggedly.
Sue argued, but Charlie stubbornly refused any treatment. She only wanted to know what duties she had been assigned for the morning. Sue told her and Charlie went to perform them, walking very stiffly.
Sue sighed, fingering her own bruised bottom, and went to her own workplace.
Life settled into a pattern. During the week, all six girls worked as domestics, keeping the mansion and grounds immaculate and preparing meals and doing the laundry. With six of them, the hours were not too onerous. There was always the possibility that the butler, Forsythe, or one of the two younger men, Joe or Fred, might simply take a slave and ravage her there and then. It happened sometimes. Proby summoned a girl to spend the night with him most nights. Nicola was his favourite, but over about three weeks each of the others was used at least once. At least one of them was always required to wait on Proby during his meals, which meant they could expect a groping at least.
But the weekends were worse. Each weekend saw a group of male visitors, different ones most times, making full use of them. Then on Monday morning would come the dreaded assessment and correction. Sue coped the best: by the third week her number of correctional strokes was down to the same as Rosie and Erica and she was also promoted to Level Two slave. Mandy struggled more, but after five weeks she was down to single figures and had also gained Level Two status. But Charlie struggled. She obeyed orders but was too shy, too hesitant, too clearly reluctant, too easily repulsed by what she was made to do. “Too prissy,” was Mandy’s cutting verdict. Each Monday morning she would get another substantial paddling, occasionally getting it down to eighteen but more often taking twenty.
It was a source of considerable friction between Charlie and Mandy. Proby had decreed that they would only get Level Two privileges - which basically meant moving out of
the sparse dungeon with its cold showers - to a decent room, or even separate adjoining rooms, when all three had attained that level and Charlie was as far away as ever. The four categories needing to be passed for Level Two were obedience, pain taking, fucking and sucking: Charlie was considered good at taking pain but, whilst good at obedience in domestic terms, not good enough when sex or nudity were involved and in the other two she was miles away. In fact, when doing oral sex she was now made to wear a mouth clamp to stop her accidentally causing damage to the men’s treasured tools. Mandy herself had only barely scraped by in all four, but she had done it and was frustrated by Charlie’s lack of progress. She was reminded of it every time she had to have a freezing cold shower. Sue had actually settled to slavery reasonably well: naturally diffident, she found submission reasonably easy, could cope with the spankings and so on and after years of a lack of sex she, well, it would not be fair to say she welcomed it but at least she didn’t mind too much. Her biggest problem was watching the suffering her lovely daughters were often subjected to and Charlie was a constant worry.
But then, one weekend, things changed.
His name was Harry Evans and at first sight he was no different to all the other guests: middle aged, somewhat going to seed, certainly not handsome or endowed with a good body. He was also clearly a lot less affluent than the other guests and they understood he had been invited for the weekend because he had helped Proby out in some way.
To begin with, he was hesitant and unsure, but soon got into the swing of things, which meant the girls were used, spanked and treated as property just as every other male treated them. But somehow he did it differently. He took a shine to both Rosie and Charlie and somehow turned Charlie around. Mandy also found him one of the best of the men, but he had the greatest effect on Charlie. Based on his assessment of a night she had been made to spend with him, Charlie received just two strokes of the cane (Proby had decided on a change from the paddle for a week) rather than the usual twenty. After his departure, Charlie made strenuous efforts, helped by Rosie, and gained her Level Two within the week. Harmony was restored to the family, and the much better living quarters were a big boost to their morale. Life became, if not pleasant, at least bearable.
Chapter Six
Two elfin slaves, Rosie and Charlie, both small of stature but with superbly proportioned bodies, stood naked near the gatehouse, waiting for the arrival of their midweek guest. Unusually, in fact uniquely in the experience of either, they were looking forward to his arrival.
Because he was Harry Evans.
It had been Rosie’s idea for the two of them to greet him in the nude, to show their submission to him. Charlie had agreed without difficulty. She still didn’t like being nude in front of men, but wanted to make the gesture to Harry. She would actually have liked to call him ‘master’, but she knew that title was reserved for Mr Proby. ‘Sir’ would have to do.
Charlie stamped her bare feet on the tarmac and did a little jig to keep warm. It may have been well into summer, but this far north into Scotland the temperature was still limited and there was a fresh breeze coming across the hills. Rosie was also moving about to keep warm.
“Rosie, why does this guy have this effect on us?” Charlie asked abruptly. “Even Mandy likes him. I mean, he does whatever he wants with us, just like the rest of them and he’s not any fitter than any of the others. He treats us like slaves, just like the rest of them do.” ‘Fitter’ was the current teenage slang for good-looking, good body, generally sexy men.
Rosie considered. “He treats us like slaves, yes, but fairly within that. He’s firm, but not cruel or vindictive. In fact, he shows he actually cares. I think that’s the key. He takes whatever he wants from us, but subject to that he’s thoughtful and kind.” She smiled at a recollection. “And he’s not bad in bed, he actually tries to make sure you have an orgasm.”
Charlie coloured. She still wasn’t used to her sex life being such an open thing. For that matter, she still wasn’t used to actually having a sex life. It seemed a long time, though, since she had been a virgin. “You’re his favourite girl,” she said matter-of-factly.
“So it seems, but he likes you a lot as well,” Rosie returned good-naturedly. “And I’m sure he’ll taste the other girls while he’s here again. Slaves don’t get any right to exclusivity. Why should a man be monogamous with us? You’ll just have to use that hot little body of yours to keep his attention as much as you can.”
“I’m no match for you in that,” Charlie said.
Rosie pondered. “I’m not so sure. Anyway, we work together to try and keep him for both of us, OK?”
“OK,” agreed Charlie. It was difficult to accept that she was talking like this about a middle-aged man. But she was. And like Rosie, she was looking impatiently down the road, waiting to see the car coming towards the gates.
Around eight months later, the Bingham family stood naked to attention in the lounge in front of the man they now unquestioningly thought of as their owner.
There were subtle differences in their poses these days compared to their early days of slavery. All three stood with their legs slightly apart, their sex organs easily accessible not only by their stance but in their minds. If he chose to fuck any one of them now, she would accept it without hesitation, even though each of the three of them hated being ‘had’ in front of the other two. It was entirely his choice to make. Also, all three stood with their shoulders back, breasts thrust out, not brazenly but because they knew it was required of them to have their bodies fully on show here. He had every right to see them naked.
“You can think of the next week as career week,” he said. “You will be free to leave here in just over a month and you need to consider where you are going to go and what you are going to do. As I promised when you arrived here, you will be given every support to help you return to life outside.”
Just one more month to go! A feeling of relief washed over Sue: the nightmare was coming to an end. In fairness, they had all adjusted to the bizarre world here: they had learned to cope with the humiliation and the frequent pain inflicted on them. They had long since stopped counting the days until their release, but they had all been aware that the day was coming nearer.
In some ways, Sue reflected later, after Proby had outlined some of the things they needed to think about, the experience had actually been even beneficial. She herself had rediscovered confidence in her body. A messy divorce and a period without men had left her thinking her sex life was pretty much over, but being frequently naked alongside a group of nubile and very attractive girls in their late teens and early twenties and finding that men did not automatically ignore her in favour of them had shown her that she was not past her sell-by date. Of course the youngsters got more of the attention than she did, that was only to be expected, but she had been ‘in demand’ far more than she had thought would be the case. If being forced into very frequent sex had not been nice, sometimes the sex itself had been not too bad. When she got out of here, Sue resolved to start dating again and, although she did not want to be ‘sleeping around’, it was inevitable, given her experiences, here, that she would be bestowing her sexual favours rather more readily than she had previously. Perhaps it was more a case of finding it more difficult than in the past to say ‘no’, something she knew would also be the case with her daughters.
Mandy had also gained some benefits from her slavery. Although she could still be very determined, the rebellious streak which Sue had worried could even lead to self-harm had gone, replaced by a new self-discipline. After an uneasy early few months here, she had also grown closer to both her mother and her sister. Before Mandy’s incarceration, she had been drifting from one dead-end job to another, rarely holding any job down for more than a few weeks, either because she was ‘bored’ or after a row with her boss. Now, however, when Sue talked to her, Mandy showed new determination.
“I want to be a secretary,” she pronounced. “Maybe some sort of personal assistant. Learn the ropes, eventually move up the ladder and become some sort of office whizz. I was thinking maybe the master could find me somebody willing to take me on.” Like Charleen, she now automatically referred to Proby as ‘the master’, even when out of earshot of the men.
“If he finds you somebody, you can guess what sort of man it’ll be,” her mother observed drily.
“I’m expecting that,” Mandy replied levelly. “I kind of think that screwing the boss would be part of a secretary’s job and if he wants to take my knickers down and bend me over his lap for a spanking, I’m sure I can take it after everything we’ve got through here. Of course, I’ll expect a decent salary in return. They’ll be top quality knickers he takes down!”
As Mandy was quite serious, Sue spoke to Proby on the matter, who said he would be able to find a good post for Mandy, especially if she or the family were prepared to move to where the job was. They had nothing to tie them to the town where they used to live, so it was decided to relocate to wherever Mandy’s new job might be. Proby had undertook to find them decent accommodation and also help Sue find a job somewhere, though she made it clear she was not after a similar arrangement to her daughter.
Charleen was more evasive. She readily agreed to them moving to wherever Mandy’s job might be, in fact she was almost disinterested in the decision. But when Sue finally got her to sit down and discuss her future plans, Charleen made an announcement.
“Mum, I’m going to spend a second year here. I’ve already signed up.”
At first Sue was taken aback, but after a while she came to understand. The first days of slavery had been much harder for Charlie than her sister or Sue herself, but eventually she had turned a corner and actually blossomed as a slave. Certainly nobody could have predicted that Charlie would be the one to reach Level Three status, after she had struggled so much to reach both of the first two levels and had only reached them long after her sister and mother. But reach Level Three Charlie had, and she was now one of three slaves at that level, alongside Rosie who was well into her second (and final) year and Nicky, who seemed a permanent fixture. Erica had finished her year and gone, but two new teenage girls had arrived and were currently suffering the first month of their slavery, bringing back bittersweet memories to the Bingham family.