by Mark Andrews
Joel and I now rose to our feet and held out our hands to the ex-police inspector. “You would be more than welcome, Hobbs - er, what is your Christian name? I don’t feel comfortable calling you Hobbs,” I said softly.
He grinned back at us. “James, Miss, er, what shall I call you two?”
“Anne and Joel will do very well, James. All right, since you are joining us, take a seat on the rug and let us plan things, eh?”
Our next port of call was Madeleine’s suite. Chandra and Bjorn had known instantly when we arrived of course and had sensed some of what had transpired downstairs, even to James Hobbs’ arrival but hadn’t dared come down to see what was happening.
Much as we would liked to have freed them, then and there, we knew they were guilty of their respective offences and so must stay as slaves for the balance of their sentences. Neither of them had that long. We had researched their cases during the week before our appeal and the others’ convictions and they had only nine and eleven months to go. Of course we also had to be careful not to appear to be lenient on them but we decided that to retain them as my lady’s maid and Joel’s valet would be perfect and would mean little difference to their lives.
Our reunion with them was heartfelt but not over-extended. We had appointments with accountants, estate managers, investment advisers and bankers. Becoming instant billionaires had responsibilities that we couldn’t ignore, but we did tell them of their roles in the household and they were suitably pleased. They would, of course, continue with their mental training with Sanjiv and Joel and me.
The upshot of the various discussions we had over the next few days revealed that we had a joint disposable income, after all expenses and taxes had been met of some fifty million dollars.
We had been advised to re-invest at least ten million of this and had agreed but the rest we wanted to spend on projects with which we could personally become involved and which would have a real benefit for the communities we chose to receive them.
But that would be in the future. We could set up the various trusts which would give effect to these decisions but the actual choosing of the projects and what we could do to help in a personal way could wait until we had acquired Madeleine and the others and had begun their proper punishments.
For make no mistake about it. We weren’t going to forgive any of them for what they had done to us and the way Madeleine had treated her other slaves. I had no argument with the punishment of slavery for crime, but our experience had shown that it was open to abuse and the slave concerned had no recourse under the law at all.
Well that was going to rebound on Madeleine, now. Joel and I had decided she would get what she had given us - and then some. The others would suffer too, but not like her.
The next Saturday we duly showed up at the Slave Centre and as we had booked, they gave me the same seat (front and centre) as she had occupied all those months ago, and of course Joel was beside me.
By mutual consent, mine was the only bid on her body and thus we got her for the absolute minimum, a mere hundred thousand, which, for a lifer, was unheard of. We had watched eagerly as the line of naked, upside-down slaves entered the room which had meant so much distress to me and I smiled as I thought what Madeleine must be thinking as she slowly moved around the huge chamber in fits and starts, probably looking for Joel and me, but in any case, terrified of what the future now held for her.
And yes, Peter Nixon and the Thomas’s were there too, following right on from Madeleine as they had been delivered with her to the centre. We had to pay more for them for they were only by-players in the drama which had unfolded over the media in the last week but we didn’t care. The four of them had caused Joel and me a great deal of angst and they were going to suffer the same, at least until we tired of it and then sold them on. Not Madeleine, however. No, she was going to stay with us permanently as the menial and drudge she had originally intended as my role in that great house.
We had made special arrangements for their transport back to Ravenscroft. We had left the Rolls at home and had James drive us in the estate’s utility which had had some additions made to it over the last few days.
Madeleine had of course had a quite large outdoor staff as well as those who kept the huge house spotless and running like clockwork and yes, they were all slaves too and had come to us as part of her estate. One of them was the maintenance man (he had been assistant to Joel but was now promoted), a cheeky but very personable young man named Mabuchi and who, like all her slaves was extraordinarily athletic and, of course quite naked of hair on his lithe young body. He was just twenty-four years old.
We had had him erect a removable frame onto the back of the ute. Its two sturdy uprights, situated at the centre front and rear of the tray, could be locked into the permanent bases he affixed into the tray of the ute and then a further horizontal beam fitted into slots at their top. Dangling from this were short chains and thumb cuffs had been welded to the last link of each of them.
No doubt you have guessed how we were going to transport them home? Of course you have. We wanted their shame to be absolute and what better way to achieve this than to string them up by their thumbs, leaving their so naked bodies dangling free of the ute’s floor to sway this way and that as James drove us home?
The estate’s ute was a big Ford 500 and the sides of its tray-top were removable. Making it a very useful adjunct for the outdoor staff. On this occasion we had asked Mabuchi to remove the back and sides so that everyone would have an unfettered view of their naked bodies all the way home.
I hadn’t said anything to Madeleine when we went to pick her up and she wouldn’t look at me either. I didn’t mind that in the least. She was going to suffer at our hands but I didn’t particularly want to talk to her, not then, anyway.
But when she saw the ute and how we were going to transport them all, she turned to me: “Have you no pity, Anne?”
I slapped her face, twice, hard. Right out there in the centre’s car park. “Be quiet, slut,” I said. “Never ever speak unless you first ask for and obtain permission. And you will address us as ‘master’ and mistress’ if you know what’s good for you. As for pity, we are showing you the same pity you showed us, so get used to it!”
She subsided then. Of the others, Peter Nixon was a blubbering wreck and the Thomas’s simply looked scared - as well they might for I held them in the same contempt as Madeleine. They had eagerly taken part in my shame and humiliation and now they would suffer accordingly.
Joel and I received them in what had been her private sitting room in exactly the same way she had me. James brought them in, lined them up and formally announced them to us. We nodded our thanks to him and then rose and walked up and down the line of four new slaves, remarking to each other and to James at their disgusting bodies and how we were going to have to work them to the utmost to achieve even a modicum of a pleasing appearance.
Of course it was fatuous, at least for Madeleine. Her body and her beauty were legendary. The Thomas’s bodies were quite reasonable even if they didn’t have her beauty. Peter Nixon was tubby and quite unprepossessing. I would enjoy turning his body into something we could be proud of but he wasn’t going to like it one little bit.
Of course Joel and I made our physical inspections of their bodies as intrusive and humiliating as we could. Our fingers strayed into their most private parts, exciting them and rousing them to orgasm - in the case of the females, over and over again. We also mauled their breasts and slapped their buttocks, then made them bend over and spread them so we could delve (with surgical gloves now on our hands) into their anuses, poking one, then two then three fingers deep inside their while they screamed and struggled to stay on their feet for we had warned them that an extended electrical punishment to their genitals would follow any breach here.
They all knew (well Madeleine and the Thomas’s did anyway) what t
hat meant and tried their best to put up with the painful ‘inspection’ of their rectums, all of which had no purpose other than to shame and humiliate them. We wiped the now visibly soiled gloves on their faces and then went back to our chairs, removing the gloves and dropping them into a plastic bag the ever thoughtful James held out to us.
“Thank you, James,” I said. “And now put this scum to work. I think perhaps the rest of the week on the roller, eh?”
He grinned. “Yes, madam.” (He absolutely refused to call us by our names when in the company of others). “Shall I tail them first?”
Joel and I grinned at each other and then he replied: “Most certainly, James. And we will come and watch them being fitted with them.”
We followed them to the room where were kept the tails, collars and other slave security devices and watched in satisfaction as the semi-rigid cones were forced into each of their rectums and then grinned in delight as even the slightest movement caused the quite long - twenty-five centimetre - tails to flop around as only silicon can. Madeleine had purchased an assortment of tails of all colours and it was quite easy to select the perfect colour for Madeleine’s, the Thomas’s and Peter’s skin so that they all looked like a real part of their bodies.
James was an expert in assessing their anal opening, too. After all he had spent quite a few months as her butler and tailing her slaves was something she delighted in and you will remember I had spent most of my time as her slave with one of them poking out of my bottom.
Once they were all suitably tailed they now fidgeted visibly as they tried to accommodate themselves to the so full feeling that accompanied the large conic butt plug filling their rectal passages, not to mention the wagging effect of the tail which also affected the plug, of course.
We didn’t go out to watch their harnessing to the roller - they were going to be attached to it but James would fill its inner tank to make this initial toil as arduous as he could. We waited a half hour then went out to watch them at their toil - and toil it was!
The bar to which I had been harness had been removed and another one, suitable for four slaves had replaced it. There were thus four places, each with its rubber grips and tiny thumb cuffs and now each of them was leaning forward, straining hard against the inertia of the dead weight of the monster which had given me so much distress during my time as Madeleine’s slave.
Of course, with the four of them, even with the added weight of the water in the tank, their load was considerably less than mine had been and so now James whipped them to harder and harder effort. He kept this up for an hour or so but then strolled over to us.
“I have duties inside, so do you think perhaps we might just program their collars to keep them up to it, what d’you think?
Joel and I looked at each other and grinned. “Yes, let’s do that, James. The collars will hurt them more than the whip and I know they delighted in watching Anne suffer under its shocks while they watched in glee.”
“They sure did,” he replied. Believe me, it was all I could do not to strangle the three of them there and then as she ordered such a high degree of effort from you, Anne.”
I smiled at him. “Then let’s make their workload just as hard. Can do, James?”
“Can do, Anne.”
He tapped the buttons on his controller for a few seconds then walked smartly back to the toiling group. “I am going to leave you now, scum,” he began, but smiled at the looks of relief which passed over their faces. “However, I have programmed your workload into your collars. Slack and you will feel a shock like this...” And he pressed the red button on his unit, at which the four of them turned a deathly pale, his or her eyes stuck out as if on stalks, they tried to scream - but couldn’t as the shocks had paralysed their vocal cords, and tugged uselessly at their collars.
“Alright, so now you know what awaits you if you fail to achieve the effort I have programmed into them. Get to it!” And then he pressed the button which activated the new program. Wary as all hell now, each of them leaned forward, straining as hard as their muscles allowed and actually got it up to a very smart pace; much faster than I had achieved, but then there were four of them...
We stayed and watched for another hour, strolling alongside them just as Madeleine and the Thomas’s had with me, reaching in to feel her breasts or her sex as she staggered under the awful load, or slapping her delectable buttocks, but then we tired of it and left them to the collars, confident they would be working just as hard in another hour without anyone watching over them.
Of course, we had looked over the whole house in the days after we took possession of it and had marvelled at the tasteful luxury abounding in every nook and corner. The finish on the building was exquisite and so were its furnishings. Locked away in its multitudinous cupboards were sets of beautiful gold-inlaid bone china, crystal glassware and real silver but right then we were headed to Sanjiv’s suite.
Madeleine had allocated him a quite nice room but we moved him into one of the top guest suites. He had protested he didn’t need such luxury but we had insisted. “You are an honoured guest, Sanjiv. We want you to have every amenity possible, particularly as you may now wish to add others to your ‘school’, and this suite has a nice sitting room which will be ideal as your meeting room.
He had to agree to that and that was where we were now headed.
He greeted us with his usual courtesy (which hadn’t altered one iota from when we were both slaves - to him, we were people and he judged people as he saw fit, not one whit interested in their social standing or wealth.
“And so, Sanjiv. How do you propose we proceed with our classes?” I asked, after we had exchanged the usual pleasantries.
“Ah, and that is the sixty-four dollar question is it not?” he twinkled.
“It certainly is to us,” put in Joel. “We want to explore this gift with you as far as we can and we want Chandra and Bjorn to join with us - as well as any others of the staff you think may enjoy the experience.”
He twinkled again. “Well there is one man...?”
“Who is it,” I asked, but I knew in my deepest heart...
“You already know, Anne?”
I looked sheepishly at him and then grinned. “It’s James, isn’t it?”
“It is, but I would like to talk to each of the slaves. I think if they had had even a small portion of the power, I would have known but one never knows for sure...?”
“Be our guest,” Joel said. “As far as we can do so within the laws relating to slavery, we want this place to be a happy one - at least for everyone excepting those four down there...”
“Just so,” said Sanjiv, “and it is right and proper that they suffer for what they did, not only to you two, but to the other slaves here. Madeleine particularly, made life a hell on Earth for everyone of them. Already the atmosphere is changed.
“Very well. I will sound out James but in the meantime let us start with you two and your body slaves - here they are. Now if you will both strip naked it will make us all equal...”
Chapter 6
Sanjiv kept us hard at it for two hours, but then we excused ourselves and went out to see how the four new slaves were faring on the roller. We knew of course that despite his avowed intention of leaving them alone to suffer the shocks from the collars if they faltered, James would be watching them covertly, ready to step in if any of them collapsed for real and the slave he had detailed to water them at the end of each row could have run for him if there was any real trouble.
Surprisingly, they were still at it although their steps were shaky and faltering. They were sweating profusely, their eyes were haunted and their faces looked utterly haggard. We were pleased, though. That was exactly what I had felt when she had so unfairly ordered that I serve for a week on this infernal implement.
Joel and I took up station either side of them,
me beside Madeleine and I poked a stick at her lithe body constantly, jeering at her ‘feeble efforts’ and occasionally applying the stick to her juddering buttocks and even to her sweating udders.
Joel did the same to the two Thomas’s whom we both felt were the lowest form of toadying hangers-on. Peter we left alone. He was still convulsing in occasional bursts of blubbering and although I felt nothing but contempt for him, he was already at the lowest ebb of self-esteem and nothing we could do could make it worse.
“Well, Miss hoity-toity wealthy socialite, not so hoity-toity now, are you?” I said scathingly. She didn’t reply so I lashed at her breasts - hard. “Answer me, you bitch,” I said as her eyes searched mine for even a tiny milligram of pity. There was none. But she still didn’t answer so I gave her another, right over the welt already forming across her beautiful breasts.
At that she jumped, her face becoming even more despairing and whispered: “No, mistress.”
I grinned at her then and poked the end of the stick into her udders. “No, and for the rest of your miserable life, you are going to suffer as you made me. I doubt you’ll last long, though. We are going to work you to the point of exhaustion each and every day and Mr Hobbs, who particularly dislikes you for the way you treated all your slaves, has said he is going to spend a lot of time making your life a misery, so be warned.
“Now, we did say you four would stay on this duty for the rest of the week and you will, each day being whipped or shocked to harder and harder effort until you drop from real exhaustion, but after that, I think an introduction to electrical torture - as a punishment of course, interspersed with long hours on your hands and knees scrubbing floors, just as you made me and the level of effort required will be set very high...”
She just shuddered in despair but remained leaning forward, pulling mightily against the inertia of the so heavy roller, her muscles quivering at the supreme exertion our whips and taunts and the constant threat of the collars demanded of them, her face even more haggard and her eyes now forming dark hollows that gave her the appearance of a zombie.
