The Girlspell III

by William Avon

  From her own shoulder bag Miss Newcombe took out the handle and shaft of the phallus she had used on Amber. As she screwed it together Sue trembled as she felt the same lure of the spell that had drawn her to its mate long weeks before deep in Hoakham Woods. Miss Newcombe slipped the bulbous end of the phallus into her own sex, knelt behind Sue and the slid the shaft into her. She hardly needed to couple with her long to bring her to orgasm. She had so much pent-up lust within her that she came in moments.

  As the glorious surge of delight burst from her loins Sue felt a twisting sensation and her surroundings blurred. A moment later she found herself slumped on her face with her rear in the air, still clutching the bag of groceries and with the phallus still lodged inside her dripping sex, but resting on a mat in quite a different bedroom.

  Miss Newcombe pulled the phallus out of her and unscrewed the handle. Then she took the bag of groceries from her limp hand.

  ‘You really can transport inanimate objects very easily,’ she said. ‘I think you’re going to be very useful.’

  ‘Thank you, Mistress,’ Sue said, getting to her feet and pulling her knickers back up.

  ‘I’m not your Mistress yet. Not officially. That’s what we’re going to sort out. But first there’s somebody you’ll want to meet…’

  Excitedly Sue followed Miss Newcombe downstairs. In the sitting room was Amber, wearing slave chains and dressed in a minimal French Maid’s costume. She was holding a feather duster and was in the act of cleaning a side table. But since her hands were cuffed behind her back she was holding the rubber-sheathed duster handle in her teeth. Bent over she showed the smooth inrolling curves of her bare buttocks with the supporting chain of her ankle hobble running up between them.

  Sue squealed in delight and ran to her, while Amber dropped the duster and they kissed passionately and Sue hugged her. It felt so good to hold her lover and mistress again! ‘How are you?’ she choked out. ‘Oh, look at those marks!’

  ‘They’re healing, don’t worry about them,’ Amber assured her. ‘How have you been? And look at you! What have you done to your hair?’

  ‘Do you like it?

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ve been missing you terribly. And Sally… and Jemima. What about her?’

  ‘She came to see me yesterday. She’s fine…’

  Miss Newcombe tolerated their tearful exchanges for a minute and then pulled them apart.

  ‘Catching up can wait for later,’ she said, picking up Amber’s fallen feather duster and giving her a warning flick across the rear with its handle before plugging it back into her mouth. ‘First we must make you legal, Sue. We don’t want you falling foul of the law like Amber did. I’ll tell you exactly what you’re going to say and do…’

  The burley policeman sitting behind the desk rose as Miss Newcombe ushered Sue into the tiny station house.

  ‘Oh, good afternoon, Matron,’ he said genially. ‘And you, Ma’am,’ he said with a polite nod to Sue.

  ‘I’m glad I found you in, Constable Bailey,’ Miss Newcombe said, ushering Sue forward. ‘This young woman’s name is Elizabeth Frances and it appears that she’s… well, she’s an outsider.’

  Bailey blinked, suddenly looking at Sue with very different eyes. ‘Oh, is she now? Another one, eh?’

  ‘Apparently. I found her wandering about my back garden in a state of some confusion and so I took her in and gave her a cup of tea,’ Miss Newcombe continued. ‘She seemed to be very lost. When she started to explain where she came from and how she got here I realised what she was. So I explained the law concerning people like her and she understands.’

  ‘Does she really?’ Bailey said.

  ‘Yes, Constable,’ Sue said meekly. ‘Miss Newcombe told me about “outsiders” and that you keep what you call “bondslaves” here and legally that’s what I would be. She showed me one in her cottage dressed in chains. She brought us the tea and cakes. And I saw some naked girls in harness pulling a cart as we came down here. It was a bit of a shock at first but I’ve had a chance to think about it and I don’t want to cause any trouble. Besides I don’t think I’ve got any choice. I don’t know how to get back home and I haven’t got anywhere else to go, so Miss Newcombe said she would take care of me if I agreed to be… well, her slave.’

  ‘I believe that’s the law, Constable,’ Miss Newcombe said. ‘A person found on private land can surrender themselves to its owner under the terms of the bondslave servitude act.’

  ‘That’s right enough, Matron,’ Bailey confirmed, ‘so long as the person in question has committed no offence prior to her surrender.’

  ‘Well Elizabeth’s hardly had a chance to break any of our laws, and as you can see she appears to be perfectly respectable.’

  Bailey opened his log book. ‘Then I’d better take some details for the record.’ He took Sue’s full name, address, place and date of birth, and then asked: ‘Now, how did you come to be wandering about in Matron’s garden?’

  ‘It’s very strange,’ Sue said. ‘I don’t really understand it. I was walking in some woods near my home when I found a small black box half covered by leaves. It looked like it might have been oriental and it had obviously been outside for some time. And inside it had…’

  ‘… odd looking statues that you handled and then came over all queer and ended up here,’ Bailey finished for her.

  ‘Well there was only one statue but that’s it, more or less. How did you know?’

  Sue actually knew that this was almost the same story that Amber had told Bailey when she had first arrived. Hopefully it would tie-in closely enough to be acceptable without telling him anything he didn’t know already.

  ‘Heard this one before,’ Bailey said with a worldly air. ‘I dunno what this land of yours is like with all these trick boxes lying about. Still, now you’re here you have to live by our rules. Now I’ve got to take photographs for the records. That means, with you wanting to be a bondslave, without any clothes on, understand?’

  Sue tried to appear shocked. ‘Oh… yes, I see. Do you keep slave girls naked all the time?’

  ‘We do,’ said Bailey. ‘It shows who’s who and helps keep them in their places. And in cold weather it encourages them to work harder. You’ve never seen firewood chopped quicker than by a bare-assed girl knee-deep in snow with her tits turning blue… sorry, Matron.’

  ‘I’m sure that graphic image will be a salutary reminder to Elizabeth one day, Constable,’ Miss Newcombe said with a grin.

  ‘Then I suppose I’d better get used to it,’ Sue said.

  Hiding the illicit thrill she felt under a show of embarrassment as she exposed everything else to his gaze, she stripped off her clothes which Miss Newcombe took from her. When she was naked she made a show of bravely keeping her arms to her sides and not attempting to cover herself, although she did hang her head in evident shame.

  Bailey unhurriedly looked her over with frank approval. ‘Very nice. We don’t get many girls with clean-swept twats round here… begging your pardon again, Matron.’

  ‘That’s all right, Constable, I’ve heard it called far worse. And she is quite striking, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes. I reckon you’ve got lucky, there.’

  Bailey took the old tripod and bellows camera from its store cupboard and arranged Sue against a wall, where he took views of her: face, profile and full figure.

  ‘I believe you have the bondslave consent forms, or do I need to go to the post office?’ Miss Newcombe said when he was done.

  Bailey found the necessary form and he and Miss Newcombe filled in the blank spaces.

  ‘Shall we say a year of service?’ Miss Newcombe asked. ‘Then we can see how you feel.’

  ‘Yes… I’m sure that will be fine,’ Sue said.

  When they were done Sue read it through.

 
Chapter Seventeen

  Declaration Of Voluntary Servitude

  I, Elizabeth Frances, aged twenty two (22) years, resident of… (outsider address) do this day… freely give my person into the ownership of Jane Newcombe of School Cottage, Oakmead Lane, Shaftwell, West Wealden, England, as a Class Three (III) servant for the period of One (I) calendar year(s). During this period I accept and submit to whatever lawful duties, functions, restraints or punishments may be imposed upon me, according to the Female Public Servitude (Bondslave) Act of 1769. (And as amended 1782, 1788, 1795, 1811, 1837, 1890, 1936).

  Signed….

  Taking a deep breath Sue signed. She’d begun as Arabella’s secret captive slave, then briefly the Cranborough boys’ hidden playing and then joyfully Amber’s slave within the confines of their rented cottage. But now for the first time she officially, openly and legally belonged to somebody else, who could do with her as they wished.

  ‘As you were only in here the other day after the auction I don’t need to remind you about the registration and taxes,’ Bailey said. ‘I’ll make my report about her arrival, but as there’s been no breach of the peace you can keep her until your ownership is confirmed.’

  ‘Thank you, Constable.’ Miss Newcombe fished about in her bag and brought out a collar, cuffs and a leash. ‘I laid in a stock of restraints for the school educational project so I took the liberty of bringing some along. I want to walk her back home like a proper slave girl.’

  ‘Quite right too,’ Bailey agreed, as she buckled the restraints onto Sue, who fought back a shiver of delight as she felt the leather straps tighten about her. Yes, she was a proper slave girl now and this was how she should be restrained.

  Miss Newcombe had just taken up Sue’s leash when she exclaimed: ‘Oh, how stupid of me! By finding her in my own back garden I’ve deprived you of the traditional perks of the job, haven’t I, Constable?’

  ‘Fair’s fair, she’s your catch, Matron.’

  ‘But I’ve got a year of use out of her to come and you’ve been so helpful.’ She handed him Sue’s leash. ‘I’ve just got to pop over to the post office for some stamps so you have her while I’m gone. She might as well start by being broken in by an expert. Why not give her a spanking at the same time to teach her a little discipline? Save me the trouble later.’

  ‘Well if you’re sure, that’s very good of you, Matron,’ Bailey said.

  Miss Newcombe departed. Picking up a long ruler from his desk Bailey led Sue through a doorway into a corridor that ran along the outside of three small jail cells with barred doors. At the moment they were all empty.

  ‘If I’d have caught you I’d have had you in here every day for a week,’ he told her cheerfully. ‘Still it’s good of your new Mistress to let me have the use of you. She’s a real lady, she is, so you be good to her.’

  Bailey bent Sue forward, levering her over with her bound arms until her head was level with her knees and her breasts flowed down towards her shoulders. Then he pressed her shoulders and raised arms against one of the cell doors. He threaded the end of her leash through the bars, wrapped it round them a couple of time and then ran it up and over the upper horizontal bracing rod that kept the bars evenly spaced and then back through to tie round her cuffed wrists. Now she was bound doubled over with her arms twisted painfully upright with her shoulders pressed against the bars, looking back through her own legs that she had to spread wide to brace herself and ease the strain on her hips. Her soft, rounded buttocks with her pouting naked sex pouch hanging ripe below their deep cleft were totally exposed to Bailey’s gaze.

  He stroked and pinched her bottom to gauge its fleshiness and slid a finger into her pussy. Sue groaned and trembled.

  ‘You’d better get used to being touched up, girl, because a prize specimen like you is going to get a lot of that.’ He ran the length of the desk ruler through her slot, parting her glistening love lips and making her shiver. ‘Don’t worry, girl. I won’t be too hard on you. This is just an introduction to how we do things around here. In future if you don’t want the hurt you behave yourself, understand?’

  ‘Yes, Constable. Thank you, Constable,’ Sue moaned.

  The ruler came away from her cleft dark and damp and scented with her juices. ‘My, but you’re a hot one,’ Bailey exclaimed, examining the stained wood. ‘You are going to be popular. Now, let’s toast that pretty bum of yours. While I do you can beg me to screw you. When I think you mean it I will, got it?’

  ‘Yes, Constable… ahhh!’

  He had smacked the ruler hard across her bottom, indenting her cheeks and leaving a glowing red stripe in her flesh.

  ‘Uhhh… no, please screw me, Constable!’ she gasped.

  But Bailey simply smacked her again and again. She squirmed and twisted as the blows sent shivers through her buttocks while her heavy inverted breasts danced and jiggled just below her chin.

  ‘Aww… no! Stop please!’ Sue begged, her pleas punctuated by the swish and smack of the ruler across her steadily heating rear. ‘Fuck me, screw me! Please Constable… eeek! I want you up inside me… uhhh… up my cunt!’ A drip of fluid from her upturned, weeping pussy shaken free by the impact of the ruler fell onto the underside of her wobbling breasts. ‘See, it’s hot and wet… ohhh… now, please now!’

  The smacking halted. Through blurred and tearful eyes she saw him free his thick shaft from his trousers. Without preamble he took hold of her hips and rammed it into her dripping sex. As she was vigorously plundered by the hard constabulary penis she knew she had truly arrived.

  A few minutes later a contented Bailey brought Sue back to the outer office where Miss Newcombe was waiting.

  ‘Thank you for the use of her, Matron.’

  ‘I hope she gave satisfaction.’

  ‘She was very willing for a first timer.’

  Her mistress inspected the state of her behind, which now glowed with an even pink blush. ‘You did a neat job on her, Constable,’ she observed.

  ‘Well I always try to be neat, Matron. I think this one’ll do you proud. Make a good pair with the Jones girl, as long as you’re firm with them.’

  ‘Oh I will be,’ she promised.

  Miss Newcombe led Sue by her leash along the tree-lined street that ran down one side of Shaftwell’s village green.

  Sue was acutely aware of her pink, simmering buttocks and traces of Bailey’s sperm still oozing from her sex and running down the inside of her thighs which in her imagination screamed out what had just been done to her. Inwardly she thrilled and wallowed in her shame at this outrageous public exposure, and yet the people they passed hardly gave her a second glance.

  The very gentle ordinariness of the setting seemed so wildly at odds with her state of bound servitude. Then she saw another naked slave with a wicker basket strapped to her back being led across the green by her mistress. And in a garden at the side of a house was a hobbled serving girl was beating the dust from a rug hung over a washing line. Ordinary and normal was what you chose to make it. She was now an official slave so it was only right and proper that she should be displayed honestly for what she was.

  As they left the village proper behind and the number of passers-by diminished Miss Newcombe said, ‘You pleased Bailey. I don’t think there’ll be any trouble with the legal process. It never hurts to keep the local policeman happy and now he thinks kindly of both of us. Well done.’

  ‘Thank you, Mistress,’ she said with a shiver of delight.

  Miss Newcombe looked at her searchingly. ‘You understand I offered you to him quite deliberately and it cost you an unnecessary screw and spanking.’

  ‘I’m your property, Mistress. You can do what you want with me, as long as I know I’m being useful and giving pleasure. You’ve told me I’ve done well and pleased you. That’s what makes you and Amber so different from Arabella. She was never
satisfied. I’ll be happy to be screwed and spanked all day long if I know it’s what you want.’

  ‘But you do enjoy it for its own sake as well?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Mistress. I’m a true masochist. But I think if I just went around acting like a sex-slut it would seem, well, selfish and indulgent. Also I’d worry about losing control. It’s nicer if I’m doing it because I’m told to. Besides it feels exciting to open my legs to order.’

  ‘Well you’ll be getting plenty of orders like that from now on, especially at work.’

  ‘You mean at the school, Mistress? Does that mean I’ll be seeing more of the boys?’

  Miss Newcombe smiled. ‘Yes. And they’ll certainly be seeing a lot more of you.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Packgirl Life

  It was lunchtime as Melanie lounged against the wall of the packgirl pound, with several of her pack bitch sisters arrayed on the grass about her. There was Gillian, Gail, Una, Jill, Molly and Zoe and the rest sprawled in a lazy tangle of bronzed limbs, bare buttocks, twitching tails and gently swaying breasts, most of which had not known a stitch of clothing for years. They had been training hard that morning and now while they rested Melanie had been entertaining them with more tales of life in her world, which shocked, bemused and amazed the others in roughly equal measure.

  Melanie had been accepted back into the warm sisterhood of the pack after her absence with a show of love and relief that had moved her to tears. They had been even more impressed when they learned she had negotiated a new servitude agreement that permitted her to go outside the Hall grounds outwardly as a free woman. She had gone out of her way to assure them that it was out of duty and necessity and not any lack of commitment to the pack, which might collectively suffer from the failings of a single member. She did not want them to feel jealous of her new privileges or to imagine that she had become some sort of part-time dilettante slave, if there could be such a thing. They must have believed her because she had then slipped back into the routine alongside them with almost frightening ease. Perhaps it was because life for a packgirl was very simple and in a strange way highly pampered.