by William Avon
Miss Newcombe patted her on the head. ‘I’m glad to see you’re treating her properly. And how nicely behaved she is. You’ve obviously got a talent as a trainer.’
‘Well she is a willing subject,’ Amber admitted. ‘I didn’t have to work that hard.’
Sue sat back on her heels, displaying her lovely body with shy pride.
‘And how are you enjoying slave life?’ Miss Newcombe asked her.
‘Very much, Miss. Please, Miss, have you come to take us back, Miss?’
‘Today I’ve just come for Amber.’ She saw Sue’s face fall. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be following her as soon as the time is right. We can’t have too many “outsiders” arriving in Shaftwell in a short space of time or else it’ll arouse suspicion. I’m going to take Amber back to my cottage where she’ll be prepared for her public reappearance.’
‘What do you mean?’ Amber asked suspiciously.
‘Since you, Sally and Jackson and his friends have between you created the illusion that both you and Melanie had been kidnapped by a gang of masked slave thieves, I thought I’d make use of this myth to explain where you’ve been all his time. Otherwise it raises too many awkward questions.’
‘You mean it might implicate you,’ Amber said.
‘Let’s say I’d like my involvement with your return to be kept as secret as possible,’ Miss Newcombe admitted.
‘Any chance that you’ll tell us what your game is anytime soon?’
‘When the time is right, I promise. For now you’ll just have to trust me.’
Amber sighed and shrugged. ‘OK, I’ll play along. What’s the plan?’
‘It must be made to seem that since your jail break you’ve been hidden away in the woods and used as a sex slave, so you must look the part. The boys will help add authentic details, although of course I’ll only tell them as much as they need to know. It’s also important for what follows that you appear suitably ill-treated. It won’t be pleasant but you embarrassed the authorities by escaping like that and you’re still a wanted person. If you return looking fit and healthy they might begin to doubt your story.’
‘You’re going to hurt her?’ Sue asked anxiously.
‘It’s all right,’ Amber assured her. ‘I understand why it has to look convincing. When do we leave?’
‘As soon as possible.’
‘I’ll just leave a message for Mel saying I’ve gone.’
‘No, write a letter for Sue to post. Don’t ring or call on Melanie from now on.’
‘Why?’
‘By recovering your stash of stolen goods Melanie has drawn attention to herself. It would be best if your association with her was not known.’
‘And you’ll explain the reason for that as well when the time is right?’ Amber said accusingly.
‘Yes. Don’t look so annoyed, Amber. You took a step into the unknown when you stole that puzzle box. Now you must live with the consequences.’
Amber sighed. ‘Will you be coming back for Mel soon?’
‘She can’t give up her occupation and life here as casually as either of you. We must wait for the moment when it seems natural to do so.’
‘All right. Shall I bring anything with me?’
‘Your little burglar kit might come in handy, but otherwise you won’t need anything else.’
‘Clothes?’
Miss Newcombe smiled. ‘Now why on earth would you need clothes?’
Twenty minutes later Amber stood naked in the sitting room.
She had neat, cone-tipped pink-nipples breasts, a flat stomach, firmly rounded buttocks and a fluffy crown of pubic hair. Sue, now respectably but uncomfortably dressed and chainless, looked on unhappily. Her pretty face was a picture of longing.
‘I wish I could come with you, Mistress.’
Amber kissed her. ‘I wish you could as well. But now you must take care of things here until Miss Newcombe comes for you.’
Sue smiled bravely.
Miss Newcombe put Amber’s lockpicks into her bag. ‘Get down on your hands and knees with your legs spread ready to be mounted,’ she commanded, and Amber obeyed.
Miss Newcombe rolled up her skirt. She was wearing no underwear. An oval of thick dark pubic curls crowned her bare pubic lips. Smiling down at Amber she took another object from her bag.
It was a red ivory phallus with a separate screw-in handle. The head of the phallus was about fifteen centimetres long and had the delicately carved figure of a nude woman at its base, with her arms and legs encircling the shaft and chained together at the wrists and ankles. Her back and neck were arched away from the shaft as though caught in a moment of supreme ecstasy. The handle was a slimmer bowed shaft of ivory that curved through a little more than a right angle and was capped with bulbous tip.
Amber and Sue gazed at the phallus in fascination, sensing its power even though it had not yet been activated.
‘That’s a different handle than last time,’ Amber said.
‘Yes. It’s a little more intimate. But you’ll still do all the work, of course.’
Eyes wide in wonder Sue took a step forward. Miss Newcombe held up a restraining hand. ‘Not this time. Be a good girl and stay back.’
Sue bit her lip and nodded obediently.
Miss Newcombe pulled looped straps out of the bag with Amber’s lockpick set now inside it and slung it across her shoulders. Then she screwed the handle into the phallus. The air in the room seemed to warm and thicken while sounds grew mute. The blood surged through Amber’s nipples as they stood up, becoming rock hard in seconds, while a tingle in her loins became an ache and then a sense of terrible emptiness. Her labia pulsed and swelled and ran with lubrication as the need to be filled became overwhelming.
Miss Newcombe slid the bulb-tipped end of the phallus inside her, so that its carved shaft rose from her cleft like an ivory penis. She knelt behind Amber, who dipped her back and thrust out her hips, her blossoming sex begging to be filled.
Bending over Amber and cupping her hot breasts, squeezing and pressing their India-rubber nipples into their pillows of flesh, Miss Newcombe plunged the phallus into the waiting hungry tunnel of Amber’s vagina and began to work it back and forth. Remorselessly the hard ivory parted its yielding, sucking, fleshy furrow while the air filled with the intimate scent of sex. Sobbing, Amber jerked her hips back to impale herself with desperate passion, feeling her juices overflowing and dripping out of her.
The climax built with unnatural speed. Amber felt a wrenching, twisting sensation and something seemed to snap within her as the pleasure dam burst and she was carried away on its frothing waters.
Back in the cottage Sue blinked at small stain on the empty carpet that was the only trace left of her mistress and lover.
Sprawled on her face Amber was aware of the phallus being pulled from her vagina with a sucking pop. Then Miss Newcombe stood up and removed the other end of the device from her own sex. Still dazed from her orgasm Amber looked about her blearily. She was lying on a small round rug in the sitting room of Miss Newcombe’s school cottage. Late afternoon sun was shining through its neat leaded windows.
Miss Newcombe unscrewed the phallus, wiped it clean on a cloth then and slipped it into her bag. With her toe she prodded Amber to roll aside. She lifted the rug and retrieved from underneath it a small disk of ivory that Amber recognised as part of the puzzle box kit which acted like a homing beacon for phallic travellers.
‘I left Sally chained to my bed,’ Miss Newcombe explained. ‘She’s been serving as my maid. I’ll send her down. I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you but don’t go into detail as to how you got back yet. I’ll tell her…’
‘I know,’ said Amber, ‘when the time’s right.’
Miss Newcombe cuffed Amber lightly round the ear. ‘Remember where you are n
ow!’ she admonished.
‘When the time’s right, Mistress,’ Amber corrected herself.
In a minute Sally came downstairs. She ran to Amber with a squeal of delight and hugged and kissed her. Amber hugged and kissed back. Sally was a delightfully uninhibited, cheerful little slut. Her body felt hot and fresh and their breasts flattened against each other.
‘Well don’t you look respectable now,’ Amber said when Sally finally let her breath, holding her at arm’s length and inspecting her slave-maid’s outfit.
Sally grinned. ‘I know it’s not what I reckoned on. But the food’s good an’ I get to wash every day and have a real bath each week. Better than sleeping in a barn.’
‘Has Miss Newcombe been treating you well?’
‘She can be strict but she’s fair. She’s also clever, like you. She’s got Jackson and the boys eating out of her hand. She don’t hang about, neither. She says we’ve to get right on with arranging your alibi. She’ll go over to the school while I take you down to the cellar and get you set up. It’s all ready for you. Come on…’
Sally led Amber through the door under the stairs and down into the cellar. Sally pointed to a pile of sacking in a corner on which lay a rough rectangular wooden frame. It had some large rusty hooks and rings screwed into its sides.
‘That’s going to be your bed,’ Sally said. ‘She’ll explain why later.’
Beside the sacking was a stool and small table, on which sat a bundle of long springy willow wands, an expandable tubular rod with rings bolted to its ends, four strips of broad leather with metal rings on their ends, several lengths of chain, some long strips of rag, a small sack, a bucket, jug and brass garden syringe, a jar of petroleum jelly and what looked like a pair of canvas mittens.
‘I’ve got to put the gloves and chains on you,’ Sally continued. ‘They won’t be that comfortable but she says they’ll leave the right kind of marks. Do you understand?’
‘Yes. Go on…’
Sally pulled the mittens over Amber’s hands. They were really no more than two ovals of canvas stitched together with lace-up cuffs at one end. They had no fingers or thumbs.
‘Some people use these to keep slaves from being able to use their hands properly,’ Sally explained as she laced them up.
When they were in place Sally picked up one of the broad thick leather strips. Now Amber could see it had a ladder-like row of slots along it that could be folded back over an iron “D” ring riveted perpendicular to its end. Sally wrapped them about Amber’s wrists and ankles and secured them with screw shackle links. She could have undone them except for her mittens and she might have been able to unlace the mittens with her teeth except for the cuffs. It was a simple restraint system that needed no locks or keys.
Sally stood Amber under one of the ceiling beams which had a pair of heavy iron rings bolted to it. Climbing onto the stool she threaded a chain through them and then through the cuff rings. Hauling Amber’s arms up over her head she secured them with snaplinks on the chain ends. Getting down she spread Amber’s legs and fastened the expandable rod between her ankles. There was a recessed ring set in the floor below the beam and Sally chained the middle of the rod to this. Now Amber stood under the beam with her arms and legs spread wide.
Sally positioned the bucket between Amber’s legs and then took up the big garden syringe. It had a length of rubber hose on the end. Filling it from the jug she slid the hose between Amber’s buttocks and up into her rectum. Amber shivered as her insides were sluiced out. Sally scooped up a blob of petroleum jelly and worked it up Amber’s rear until her anus glistened.
Sally wiped her hands dry then stood back to admire her handiwork. ‘You look so fuckable!’ she exclaimed. ‘There’s just one more thing...’
From a corner she brought out an adjustable tubular rod mounted on a flat metal base with a rubber dildo on its end. Sally positioned it in front of the spreader bar linking Amber’s ankles and slid the end up inside her vagina.
‘The Mistress said you can play on it but you’re not to come right now,’ Sally told her. ‘You’re going to need it later to take you mind off... what we have to do to you.’ She kissed Amber again. ‘I’ll tell the Mistress you’re ready as soon as she gets back.’
She went back upstairs leaving Amber alone in the cellar.
Amber swayed in her bonds, tugging at the chains, confirming how unyielding they were. Her stomach knotted and she felt a perverse thrill of fear and excitement at her own utter helplessness. She worked her hips back and forth over the upstanding dildo until fresh juicy slickness oozed between her pussy lips while her greased anus felt slippery and ready for use. You would not think she had orgasmed only half an hour earlier, but she could not prevent it. Maybe it was something in the air here in this alternate version of England. Beyond the immediate ordeal she faced she knew there would be more humiliation, pain and pleasure. The challenge was to manipulate events around her when she had no tools to do so except for her body and her voice. When they were stifled or beyond her control to offer or withhold there was still her eager erect nipples and swollen clitoris: shamelessly offering themselves up to whatever might come, good or bad.
Fifteen minutes later she heard footsteps on the cellar stairs. Sally and Miss Newcombe appeared and they were not alone. Behind them came the five Cranborough boys she had come to know so intimately.
Their faces lit up and they clustered round her naked chained body, squeezing and stroking her intimately like a favourite pet and asking her how she was, even as they tweaked her nipples and slipped their hands between her thighs and bottom cleft. At their touch she grew even wetter and her nipples swelled into hot pulsing buds. She could not help her response. She had been the first girl they had ever had and they had been her first true slave masters. It made for a special, if very strange, bond between them.
After a minute of this Miss Newcombe called them to order. ‘Now, would you like to have the official use of Amber and girls like her at school every day of term?’ she asked the boys.
Their exclamations left no doubt as to their feelings. ‘You mean actually have her in the school?’ ‘I’ll say we would, Matron!’ ‘That would be fantastic!’
‘Well I suggested to the Headmaster that, to round off your education and to help attract more new students, senior boys might be permitted to keep and use bondslaves on the school premises. I said I would try out the idea on you first. I was fairly confident of your reaction but I wanted to be sure. If he’s agreeable we can run a test scheme this term, but if you want it to succeed you must do exactly as I say, do you understand?’
They all gave their solemn assurances that they did.
‘First, to ensure Amber will be available for use at the school, she has to return openly to Shaftwell, which means her absence since her jailbreak must be accounted for. Unless you want the authorities to discover you were responsible it must look as though for the last few weeks she’s been held captive by those masked “slave thieves” you helped make the police believe were operating in this area. To make it convincing, and to win her some necessary sympathy, it must appear that she’s been roughly handled and repeatedly violated.’ Her face took on a sterner expression. ‘This means we will now have to beat her severely and then subject her to violent intercourse. I don’t mean a simple spanking and ordinary sex. She must be bruised inside and out and thoroughly welted.’
Amber saw the boys go pale while Sally’s lips pinched.
‘You understand Amber has done nothing to deserve this, except perhaps be a little too clever for her own good,’ Miss Newcombe explained. ‘But since it is necessary I thought you should know what it feels like to participate in such a beating. Think of it as an object lesson in how not to treat a bondslave. You would never do this in ordinary circumstances. It’s the sort of cruelty Arabella Westlake would inflict for no reason at all. I trust yo
u would never want to emulate her?’
The boy’s shook their heads. Arabella represented everything they hated.
‘At the same time don’t be surprised if you find some of it enjoyable. There is pleasure to be found on both sides in making a pretty girl suffer; it’s just that being in control you have the responsibility of knowing where to draw the line. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Matron,’ they said dutifully.
‘First you must ask Amber’s forgiveness for what you’re about to do to her.’
Awkwardly the boys stood in front of Amber. ‘Sorry for having to hurt you,’ they said.
‘I won’t blame any of you,’ she assured them, trying to sound unworried. ‘Just make it look good.’
‘I’m going to begin with marking her face,’ Miss Newcombe told them. ‘This has to be done carefully. Then you can set about her body. Sally…’
Sally picked the strips of cloth and gave them to Miss Newcombe. She used the first one to gag Amber, wrapping a loop between her teeth and then across them under her lips, tying the ends behind her neck. She wrapped the second strip of cloth about the knuckles of her right hand. Taking hold of Amber’s chin to hold her steady she punched Amber three times in quick succession, one on each cheek across the eye and once on the left side of her jaw.
Sally flinched and gasped aloud while the boys winced. Amber bit into her gag, whimpering and blinking back tears. She felt dizzy with shock and could taste blood from a split lip seeping into her mouth. Miss Newcombe knew how to hit and she was stronger than she looked.
With apparent clinical detachment Miss Newcombe examined her handiwork.
‘Those should be well developed by the time anybody sees you again,’ she declared. ‘Black eyes are always good for eliciting sympathy and they should be ample evidence that Amber did not go with her mysterious abductors quietly.’ She turned to the boys. ‘Now it’s your turn. I suggest you undress first. You don’t want to get blood on your clothes because you’ll be coupling with her afterwards. Don’t be shy. After all you’ve got nothing any of us haven’t seen before.’
