Submission

by Ray Gordon

'It would have to be soon. Tomorrow, or the day after, certainly no later.'

  'I could probably arrange it for tonight.'

  'No, that's too early. You see, I want Hannah Kelley. I want her and her sister.'

  'How are you going to get her?'

  'That girl, Jo, she managed to escape from Kelley. She came to see me at the centre. She reckoned that there's no future for her here. She was giving me useless bits of information and asking me for money so that she could go abroad. I was going to keep her at the centre, but a good thrashing prised some interesting information out of her. She told me where Kelley's base is - I've got some men on their way there now.'

  'Did you let the girl go?'

  'Yes, but I didn't give her any money.'

  Hannah knew she had to move quickly. Undoubtedly still sleeping at the base, Emily would stand no chance against Fowler's men. Terrified, Hannah knew she could lose no time if she was to save her friend - her lover. But she couldn't leave the room without being seen - there was no escape.

  'I suppose Evans will put Swain in charge of the centres now that you've left,' Derek remarked.

  'Undoubtedly! I'll bet she'll make a few changes! Talking of changes, did I tell you that Evans is planning to pay housewives a wage?'

  'What's the point of doing that?'

  'He reckons that a married woman with a family should be paid a wage for doing her job in the home. Bloody ridiculous, if you ask me!'

  'It's clever, though. It'll keep the women happy, won't it?'

  'I suppose that's the idea. The problem is that he gives them something in one hand and then takes something else away from the other.'

  'How do you mean?'

  'Well, it's politics, isn't it? He's going to give them a wage, and then take away their driving licences. He reckons that he can cut congestion on the roads, and save the country petrol. He's also considering making all girls leave school at sixteen and do a year's study of keeping house and raising families. That way, there'll be more time and money available to educate the boys.'

  'That won't go down too well with women, will it?'

  'No, but it's not my problem. Anyway, I'm going back to the centre to give the girls a goodbye fuck - and a thrashing. Meet me here tonight, say, eight o'clock.'

  As the front door closed, Hannah slipped into the hallway and breathed a sigh of relief, wondering what other tricks Evans had up his sleeve. Walking into Fowler's study, she sifted through a pile of papers on the desk. Interesting, she thought, reading a letter addressed to Fowler from a doctor.

  ...but I will need more women if I am to continue with my experiments, preferably teenaged girls. I'm hoping to have the new male hormone ready for you soon, but so far I have only been able to increase the size of the penis by fifty per cent. I'll keep working on it.

  Hannah stifled a laugh before picturing Fowler's gruesome experiments being carried out on the young girls. Stuffing the letter into her pocket, she made her way downstairs and out into the garden. Breathing in the warm summer air, she thought of Emily, praying that she'd awoken and left the base before the arrival of Fowler's men.

  'Can I help you?' an old man asked as he walked up to her.

  'I... I'm looking for Mr Fowler,' she said hesitantly.

  'He won't be here at this time of the day. He's at work. I'm the gardener, can I take a message?'

  'No, I'll call back this evening. I was told that he'd be here this morning, but not to worry.'

  'He may be in his den - at the end of the garden,' the old man volunteered, pointing toward some trees.

  A den, Hannah mused; an ideal place to hide Rox!

  'Oh, thanks,' she smiled nonchalantly. 'I'll go and have a look.'

  The door to the brick building was locked. Looking in through a window, Hannah was disappointed to see that the room was empty. 'Shit!' she cursed, wondering where Roxanne was. As she was about to leave, she noticed a trap door set in the floor of the building. 'A cellar,' she breathed, eyeing the heavy padlock.

  'Not there, then?' the gardener asked as he approached. 'No. It doesn't matter, I'll come back later,' she replied. 'I'll tell him you called, shall I?'

  'No, don't bother. I want to surprise him, you see.'

  'You're not his daughter, are you?'

  'Er... yes, but don't tell him that I called.'

  'He'll be pleased to see you. When did you get back from America?'

  'Yesterday,' she replied as she turned to leave.

  'I won't spoil the surprise, then.'

  'Thanks.'

  How wonderful to capture Fowler's daughter, Hannah thought as she walked down the road. But, knowing Fowler, he wouldn't bat an eyelid if she were to tell him that she'd got his daughter tied to a bed and was caning her. He probably abused the girl himself, she speculated, wondering if Roxanne was in the cellar under Fowler's den. And if so, how and when to try and free her. 'At last!' Swain grinned triumphantly as she turned to Smith. 'Mr bloody Fowler has gone!'

  'He is my stepson,' Smith returned.

  'That's as maybe, but he deserved to go on the run, didn't he?'

  'Yes, you're right. So, what changes are you going to make now that you're running the show?'

  'I have several ideas in mind, but first of all, I want that young Roxanne Kelley back! Letting her go was...'

  'She isn't free. Fowler has her somewhere.'

  'What?'

  'He was going to do away with you and then tell Evans that you ran off with the girl, but now, well...'

  'He was planning to kill me?'

  'I don't know, I suppose so.'

  'How did he get his hands on the girl? I'd let her go!'

  'Yes, and he caught up with her.'

  'Where is she now, do you know?'

  'No, I don't.'

  Swain paced her office floor, deep in thought. She knew Fowler only too well, and wouldn't put it past him to return to the centre to try to execute his plan - execute her. 'I should have done away with the bastard when I had the chance!' she reflected. 'How many girls do we have in the cells?'

  Smith thought for a moment. Gazing at Swain, he wondered what plan she had for him. They'd never got on particularly well, and he wouldn't put it past her to somehow get him out of the centre. He desperately needed the job - and the girls' fresh young bodies.

  'Fifteen, at the last count. Why do you ask?' he replied.

  'Fifteen, good. Dress them, properly, and give them make-up. I want them to look really good.'

  'Why?'

  'Just do it, Smith! And remember, I'm in charge now!'

  'All right, whatever you say. But you remember this - without me, you'd have a hell of a job running this place.'

  'You're not indispensable, Smith - remember that!'

  'No? It would only take a couple of girls to overpower you. There are only two security guards on the main entrance, and they can't be everywhere at once, can they?'

  'What are you saying?'

  'I'm just pointing out that, should a couple of girls happen to find their cell door unlocked and get their hands on you, you'd be in trouble. But, of course, I'll make sure that you're safe.'

  'You're a bastard, Smith! You can't blackmail me. But don't worry, you'll keep your job - for the time being. Now, get those little tarts dressed and made-up! I'm going out, and when I get back, I want to see them looking like models!' Nearing her base, Hannah moved cautiously through the undergrowth, her eyes darting this way and that for signs of Fowler's men. With Roxanne about to be shipped abroad and Jo doing her best to destroy the group, she knew that, sadly, she'd have to give up the fight if they'd taken Emily.

  There was a chance that Emily had left the base before Fowler's men had arrived, if they had arrived, she thought. But whatever happened, they'd get the radios, bombs - everything. There'd be nothing left to fight with.

  Crouching in the bushes, she wondered about Roxanne again. To her mind, there was only one way to free her sister - give herself up and publicly denounce the EFW along with
all other groups. But even then, there was no saying that Evans could catch Fowler before he left the country. Time was running out, she was only too aware.

  Voices suddenly emanated from somewhere in the forest. Peering through the thick bushes, Hannah held her breath as two people approached. But she smiled on hearing the familiar voices.

  'Mary! Julia!' she whispered, frantically waving her hand. 'Come over here! They know where the base is!'

  'How?' Mary asked, creeping into the bushes.

  'Jo told them. Emily might still be in the base, but there's no way we can warn her.'

  'Where's your radio?' Julia asked, crawling into the thick foliage to join her friends.

  'I forgot to take it with me. But there's more bad news. Fowler has Roxanne, and he's shipping her and some other girls abroad, to South America. We've very little time.'

  'Do you know where Roxanne is?' asked Mary.

  'I've a pretty good idea, but I'll need help to get her out,' Hannah replied as an explosion rocked the forest. 'Shit! That'll be our base! The bastards have blown it up!'

  'With Emily inside!' Mary cried. Evans greeted his wife and daughter with jubilation as they burst into his office. 'Daddy!' Rebecca cried as she threw her arms around his neck.

  'Becky! It's good to see you! You look well, considering all that you must have been through,' he exclaimed, hugging her. 'And you, Katherine,' he added coolly, catching his wife's accusing gaze.

  The pleasantries over, Mrs Evans told her husband how Fowler and Swain had held her captive and sexually abused her.

  'But I thought that it was Fowler, not Swain?' he frowned, somewhat puzzled.

  'No, they were both in it together. They're at each other's throats most of the time. They both run to you, blaming each other for everything. Becky, do you mind leaving us alone for a minute? Only I want to talk to your father.'

  As the girl closed the door behind her, Mrs Evans turned to her husband. 'This whole thing's completely out of hand!' she began. 'Fowler, Swain, the centre, the EFW - the whole thing's a mess! And Hannah Kelley is doing far more than making waves for you, she's out to destroy you! I've told you before that you should close down the centres and be seen as a genuine leader, of both sexes. But you wouldn't listen, would you? Your own daughter has been stripped, beaten and sexually abused - and all because you wouldn't listen to me! Anyway, I think you ought to know that Fowler and Swain are planning to overthrow you.'

  Casting his eyes over his wife's generous frame, Evans remembered Hannah's slender body - naked, young, fresh. Hannah wasn't into sexual abuse, nothing horrendous anyway, he knew. Whatever she'd done to Rebecca wouldn't leave scars, physical or mental.

  'I want a divorce,' he stated coldly.

  'That doesn't surprise me in the least!' returned his wife. 'I'd be only too happy to be rid of you and your perverted friends! I'm taking Becky away with me - to Canada.'

  As Mrs Evans left the room, Rebecca rushed in and sat on the Chesterfield next to her father. 'Mummy's not happy,' she declared.

  'I know - we're getting a divorce.'

  'And about time, too! I knew it was coming months ago, so I'm not surprised. It's no good living a lie, is it?'

  'No, it's not. You're growing up, aren't you?'

  'Yes, I suppose so. All I want is for you both to be happy. Anyway, I want to talk to you about Hannah Kelley and the EFW. I got to know Hannah quite well - fairly well, anyway. She believes in what she's fighting for, and I admire her for that. I have to say this, daddy - I believe in what she's fighting for, too.'

  'I thought you'd say that. Brainwashed you, has she?'

  'No, not at all. I just...'

  'Listen, your mother wants to take you to Canada. Go with her and, when the day comes that this mess is all over and the country is properly on its feet and the EFW no longer exists, you can come back.'

  'The EFW will always exist! Can't you see that? All the time women are oppressed there will be resistance groups! Hannah will never give up - and I can't say that I blame her!'

  As Rebecca flounced out, Evans lowered his head and gazed at the floor. He'd lost her, but worse, he felt that he'd lost her to Hannah Kelley. 'Oh, Hannah! You are a pain - but a most desirable pain!' he sighed. Pressing a button on his intercom he ordered a car, grabbing his jacket on his way out. Fowler strolled into his office to find Smith sitting at the desk. 'I suppose you've heard that Swain has dropped me in it?' he asked.

  'Yes, she told me. What are you going to do?'

  'I'm going abroad. I've got money, girls - all I need.'

  'You're running away, you mean?'

  'Put it that way, if you like. But I'd call it retiring. Anyway, Richard will be after my balls, so I've got to keep my head down until I'm out of the country.'

  'You took a risk coming here, didn't you? Swain's out, by the way.'

  'Good. I've only come back for one thing - to pleasure myself with the girls one more time before I leave.'

  'Ron, why not stick to your original plan and have Swain take the blame for Roxanne Kelley's disappearance? It will work, especially if I back you up.'

  'I'd have to kill Swain. She's got such a big lying mouth, I'd have to.'

  'So?'

  Fowler leaned against the wall, grinning. 'If I persuade Richard to believe that Swain was involved in the underground magazine, I may have a chance to... No, it's not what I want! I want money, the sun, the bars, the girls! The centres aren't going to be here forever, are they? A nice villa somewhere abroad, that's what I want - with a big cellar for my young playthings, of course!'

  Smith grinned as Fowler left, speculating just how long the centres would survive without such an evil man at the helm. Fowler had held the reins for a long time, and made a lot of money in the process. But he'd failed Evans. The EFW was still in existence and Hannah Kelley was on the loose. Whether Fowler remained or not, the time had come for a change.

  Grabbing a cane from the basement, Fowler ran up the steps and made his way to the cells, closely followed by Smith. Finding the girls dressed and made-up, he asked his stepfather what the hell was going on.

  'Swain's idea,' Smith replied, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

  'Part of her bloody new image,' Fowler mumbled, opening a cell door. 'Trying to impress Evans, no doubt.'

  'Perhaps she's expecting him to call,' Smith suggested.

  'That's a thought! Why don't you come abroad with me? There's nothing here for you, is there?'

  'There's my wife - your mother!'

  'We could take her with us.'

  'No way! I'll stay here, thanks, Ron. You go and live your life of sex and luxury; I'll be all right here.'

  'If that's what you want. Anyway, make yourself scarce for a while, will you? I want to say goodbye to my girls.'

  'What if Swain comes back? Or Evans, even?'

  'They won't. But if they do, take them upstairs. I only want half an hour or so alone with my beauties!'

  Closing the door, Fowler moved threateningly towards the two young girls huddled in their cell, tapping the palm of his hand with the cane. 'You,' he growled, pushing the end of the cane into the blonde girl's breast. 'Take your clothes off!'

  'But I don't want...' the girl began.

  'It's what I want that's important! You don't count, you're a mere woman!' the beast shouted. 'Now, take your bloody clothes off!'

  Sitting on the bed, Fowler watched the girl pull her top over her head and release her bra. 'The beauty of the female form,' he commented, eyeing the swell of her nubile breasts as they fell from her bra. Freed, the brown nipples grew invitingly before Fowler's greedy eyes. 'Skirt!' he ordered, lifting her miniskirt with the cane.

  The girl looked down and fiddled with her zip. As her skirt fell down her legs and settled around her feet, Fowler unzipped his trousers and pulled out his hard, thick penis. She gazed in awe at the massive shaft, knowing that she'd have to perform for her jailer or receive the cane - or worse.

  'Kneel down an
d suck this!' he instructed her companion crudely as he reclined on the bed, holding his stiff rod. 'And you carry on undressing!' Positioning herself between Fowler's sinewy legs, the other girl opened her full red lips and engulfed his purple knob in her hot mouth. Running her tongue round and round, she closed her eyes and breathed heavily through her nose. 'You like it?' Fowler asked with some surprise. Nodding her head, she smiled at him with her eyes. 'I might just take you abroad with me. You'd like that, wouldn't you?' Nodding her head again, her long black hair fell over her pretty face as she sucked harder on the ballooning head of his penis.

  The blonde girl slipped her panties down her thighs to reveal her pubic curls to her captor. Following Fowler's beckoning finger, she climbed on to the bed and sat astride his face, her gaping pussy wet and glistening...

  'Open your cunt lips,' Fowler ordered crudely, drooling at the swollen cushions of flesh either side of the pink dividing groove. Pulling her ruby quim lips apart with her slender fingers, she lowered her wet hole over his mouth and began to slide back and forth. Her juices flowed over the brute's face, lubricating the sexual union as he pushed his tongue out and explored the dark depth of her sex.

  The girl writhed and gasped as her ruby-red clitoris swelled and fluttered in Fowler's mouth. She knew full well that escape was only possible if she played along with his game and was seen to be enjoying it. Turning her head, she winked at her friend. They were both aware of the power between their legs, they knew what men wanted, what they craved. And slim though the chance was, they were determined to use their bodies as a means to freedom.

  The dark girl mouthed and sucked on the wet bulbous head of Fowler's penis until it began to twitch and swell. He was nearing his orgasm, and she was determined to make it one of the best he'd ever had - for her own sake. Pulling the loose skin back as far as she could, she licked the length of his shaft, nibbled on his heavy balls, did all she could to bring him his pleasure.

  Gasping through a mouthful of wet girl-flesh, Fowler thrust his hips up, driving his penis deep into the dark girl's throat as his sperm began to pump. Licking, slurping, she moaned her feigned moans of delight as the white liquid spurted, filling her cheeks, oozing from her mouth, running down her chin as the male organ throbbed against her caressing tongue. Moving her hand quickly up and down the hard shaft, she milked his rod, drinking her prize until she'd drained him of his liquid climax.