Corporate Enslavement

CORPORATE ENSLAVEMENT By Steven Drukker

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The red double-decker bus pulled out of the dark opening of the warehouse in a belch of black diesel smoke and a growl of power as it gathered speed heading for the high street. The destination sign read, ‘Out of Service’. Looking through the windows of the lower deck, one could see the empty seats. The upper deck, because of its height and darkened windows, revealed nothing of its interior. It was here that unseen passengers were seated. Meredith Montgomery and her former secretary Darlene Scott sat next to each other in one of the front seats behind the windscreen. Their still and silent posture belied the wide-eyed even frantic darting of their eyes as they peered through the darkened windscreen at the tangle of traffic and throngs of people below. Those few who looked up saw only a dark silvery reflection on the glass. More than a dozen women passengers sat in primly erect posture scattered throughout the upper deck of the bus; none spoke. Their rigidly seated posture might have been considered demure and their silence merely decorous had anyone been able to glimpse their dark forms through the windows. An unobscured view would have revealed that they were bound and gagged naked in their seats. The thin silvery panes of glass and tightly drawn leather straps buckled and locked to their nude bodies were all that separated them from view and from their freedom. Crimson rubber balls protruding from their mouths seated securely behind their teeth by leather straps cinched at the back of their necks forced their lips to grasp ball-gags in open-mouthed muteness. Some drooled from the corners of their mouths; saliva brimmed over the lower lips of others. In all cases, the women remained mutely sucking on the rubber balls to keep from dribbling on their bared breasts. They looked to be gluttonously holding a much too large red fruit in their mouths - unable to remove it. Sullen silence interlarded with wet sucking sounds as they futilely tried to swallow their saliva underscored the despair and distress reflected in their frantically darting eyes. Tears of fright and helplessness flowed down the cheeks of some of the younger women, including Meredith’s blonde secretary, Darlene. Meredith drew her lips back intermittently, baring her teeth held in open-jawed distension gripping the firm resilience of the rubber ball crammed in her mouth, trying to arrest her copious drooling by hissing her slaver back into her mouth. Then she clasped the bright red sphere in tight-lipped, open-mouthed and rubber-imposed inhibition that denied her the ability to express her frustration and distress until she again felt the saliva stranding from her lower lip and chin onto her bared breasts when she would suck on the ball once more baring her teeth and helplessness with the same futile gesture. She was as helpless as Darlene, unable to aid herself much less the sobbing girl sitting next who kept looking at her expectantly. She sat as rigidly and severely upright as her secretary; bound as stringently; gagged as silently and stripped as naked as she. Their mutual nudity and restraint erased the former social barrier between executive and secretary. If Darlene were not elevated to higher status, Meredith was certainly diminished by her ignominious fall from favour and power. Although

Meredith was humiliated by her nakedness; her tightly strapped and effectively gagged condition rendering her powerless and diminished in the eyes of her secretary, she was grateful Darlene hadn’t witnessed her being stripped of power, position, and her expensive clothing in the board room that morning. She could still taste the after-effects of that rigorous and debasing ceremony-it had only been a few hours ago. Now they were both bound to a destination and future where they would be considered chattel. They were to be trained and disciplined to serve in sexual servitude for as long as required under the strict and severe conditions customary at the peculiar institution that awaited their arrival. Both women wondered in retrospect at the wisdom of having signed the employment agreement that brought them to this crushing end of their promising careers. The bus growled; the women whimpered and sobbed, their mutual destination loomed in malevolent, stony anticipation some miles and hours away. The sustained and rigid immobility demanded of the women by tightly drawn and securely buckled straps was tiring. The myriad buckles each had small brass padlocks locked through tongue rings or brass posts insuring the continuing stress of flesh compressing restraint and wearisome posture without possibility of loosening the straps or escaping the enforced posture. Thus was the appearance of the women bound and naked guaranteed while in transit for delivery to the training institution that was to be the centre of their existence in the near future. The psychological state of the women paralleled their physical disposition imitating in imagination what they experienced in their stringent bondage. The terror of apprehension gripped them as tightly as the buckled and locked straps. Meredith wanted to leave. She strained against her bondage - she burbled her thwarted desire against the stifling ball in her mouth - the bus strained in a low gear, climbing an incline toward an inevitable and dread destination. Her eyes gleamed, open as wide and gorgeous as the sky as she tried to hold back tears forming in watery effulgence against her will. Darlene noted the signs of her employer’s distress trickling down her weary cheeks. She had never seen Meredith cry. No particular strap hurt unbearably, but their unyielding combination, forcing Meredith to sit upright and unmoving with her back arched and breasts thrust forward; arms and legs bound helplessly immobilised became at first tiresome and then agonising as the bus lurched and groaned through traffic. The constrained inability to move wore on her and the other girls as well. Meredith could only see Darlene sitting a hand’s-breadth away, but she could hear the others behind her groaning in concert with the bus as they sat in the same rigid compliance to their bondage as she and Darlene. What passed for comfort ensued as the bus escaped the outskirts of town and sped along the coast; at least she wasn’t being tossed from side to side and the tightness of her straps simply became a dull agony rather than the sharp cutting pain endured earlier. The harbour receded behind them; the coast unfurled to the right and Meredith knew their destination lay to the east. The view was beautiful. As many times as she had driven the route she had never really appreciated or even noticed how beautiful. The small towns and villages

looked interesting for the first time as if she had never seen them before. Darlene whimpered and brought Meredith rushing back to her own misery and suffering. For a brief moment, Meredith had been able to emotionally and mentally push aside her physical duress and divorce herself from the sense of her sorry condition. Darlene continued to look at her as if wondering why she didn’t have them both released. Meredith answered the tacit question by hissing around the rubber ball in her mouth, trying to arrest the saliva that brimmed over her lower lip. A silvery strand glinted in the light, roping off her chin to her chest. The wide cleavage between her out-thrust breasts was slick and wet and a rivulet began to trickle toward her navel. Since she had no control over her own helpless drooling, she was hardly in a position to demand they be let go. Both women began to be annoyed with each other. Darlene felt as if Meredith were responsible in some way for her sad state; forgetting conveniently that she had signed the same agreement of indenture as her boss. Meredith was tired of being stared at by the young women who had formerly worked for her. It was demeaning. She was not accustomed to being naked before her employees. That she was helpless to do anything about it as she sat naked in hopeless exhibition next to the young woman simply ground her humiliation into her psyche beyond what was reasonable. It was cruel and unusual punishment as far as Meredith was concerned. Of course, she hadn’t yet experienced what lay in store only an hour away to the east. The equality of their new-found social position, relative to each other and in the eyes of the company that had employed and now owned them, was attested to by the identical arrangement of nudity and posture insisted upon and exhibited clearly by their gagged and bound forms. Meredith was not bound with executive straps. The tightly buckled belt around her arms making her elbows touch behind her back was identical to the one wrenching Darlene’s shoulders back. The same positioning of their arms forced both women to jut her breasts out in the same extravagant display. Additionally, they both assumed the same exaggerated posture, deeply arching their backs as if to raise and hold their breasts on offer since their bound arms didn’t permit them to sit back in their seat. Meredith’s expensively manicured hands were clad in the same type of fingerless gloves as her secretary’s and held as useless and rigorously locked to her wide leather waistband as Darlene’s. The small locks dangling from the buckled wristbands and the steel rings at the tips of the tautly stretched gloves held executive and secretarial hands in the same horizontal helplessness tucked safely and securely to their leather belted waist cinctures with their wrists at their hips and their fingers pointing toward their navels. Meredith looked down at her bare thighs; furtively glancing askance at Darlene’s nylon covered legs and the milky white expanse of flesh above her stocking tops. Identical and equally tight straps cinched and locked just below their bent knees made both women hold their knees clenched together in a demure and modest fashion. Darlene’s booted ankles, crossed and securely bound together mimicked the ladylike posture of Meredith’s trim ankles resolutely bound one over the other. But for the tight strictures’

depressing the skin and indenting her muscle and tendons, Meredith looked to be quite relaxed with her legs positioned as they were. Her Gucci court shoes were the only item of clothing allowed her. A firmly drawn intercrural strap descended from the waist girth and disappeared in the thick wedge of pubic hair all but concealed by their sitting position and their clenched thighs. Meredith felt as if she were being split in two by the mercilessly taut strap cleaving her sex and buttocks. She had squealed helplessly when it was yanked up and buckled at the back of her waist constricting girth earlier. Those watching had nodded with satisfaction at her distress clearly declared in her dark wide eyes. The happily observed fear and pain reflected in the tearful eyes of the former executive was just what was looked for when women employees had the indenture clause in their contracts exercised. It hurt to stand, it hurt to sit and walking was sheer misery. The way it divided the plump mound of her hirsute pubes was mute testimony to its harsh and insidious cruelty. The atrocious subtly of the strap was its near invisibility between her legs, all but disappearing in the deep ridge it cut between her labia and bottom cheeks. It was a constantly painful and unyielding reminder of her newly reduced status as chattel property of the corporation. It would be an article of regularly worn clothing with singular purpose once Meredith began her gruelling training program at the company facilities. The time and distance to that inevitability drew closer with each turn in the road. Meredith’s arms ached unbearably. Her shoulders, wrenched back unnaturally by her tightly strapped elbows forced to touch behind her back didn’t permit her to relieve the tension anywhere. With her leather encased hands held immobilised at the sides of her waist, held fast at wrists and fingertips, she simply endured the agony of sitting upright with her back acutely arched because her bound elbows didn’t permit her to lean back on the seat. She couldn’t lean forward either. Her torso was rigidly erect at the insistence of her bound arms, forcing her to expand her chest to its physical limits while she was further restrained from moving by a cleverly effective combination of fasteners and locks holding her to the seat. Snap links between steel staples in the seat back and D-rings sewn and riveted onto the sides of her waist girth held her seated with her buttocks well back in the seat. Arched forward by her bound arms, but with her shoulders pulled back at the same time, a secondary belt teeing off the strap around her elbows rose and buckled to a high stiff collar she wore in concert with the rest of the women aboard the bus. The collar kept her posture correct while serving as an anchor point for the ancillary arm strap and a short chain fastened high on the seat back. The chain was locked to a D-ring at the back of her collar disappearing under her dark hair. The vertical arm strap buckled to the back of the collar applied additional tension to her aching arms while permitting her no movement. With her head raised, a bright silver D-ring hanging lax at the front of her collar shone portentously in riveted security and readiness to have a lead attached. Her upright posture with her breasts proffered meretriciously and her elevated chin held up by the high collar, made her, and all the women, seem to be flaunting their bared breasts and gag dilated lips as if anxious to

arrive at their destination. The fright and agony reflected in their teary eyes were all that belied that peculiar image. In order to avoid the physical discomfort tantamount to torture, and to escape dwelling on what might happen to her upon arrival at her dread destination, Meredith dredged up the memories of her eventful morning. At least that part of her humiliation was over. When she came to work and saw her secretary was not at her desk, she was mildly surprised, but not alarmed. The alarms went off when she entered her office and saw Darlene kneeling at the side of her chair behind the desk. Ropes twined around her arms, legs, and torso held her on her knees with her arms behind her back. When she saw Meredith she said, “They want you in the boardroom,” excitedly moving her head and swishing her long blonde ponytail. Her eyes seemed magnified by the rounded lenses of her glasses. She was nearly naked wearing only her stockings and underwear; even her bra was gone. Her boots remained, with her ankles roped together and her wrists held down and back by connecting ropes to her ankles. Her elbows and knees had been tightly tied together and her bra-less breasts jutted forward between two twines of rope cutting into the soft flesh above and below her bulging mammaries. Meredith didn’t take the time to release her, but briskly paced down the hall to find what the meaning of what she considered an outrage was. There was fire in her eyes when she burst into the boardroom. They were all there, the dozen or so well fed board members in their expensive suits that did nothing to disguise their inexpensive figures. Paunchy and beyond middle age, thin and cadaverous, looking to be at grave’s edge, they sat in their serene pomposity as Meredith stormed into the room. She glimpsed the half dozen beefy security men standing beside the doorway, but didn’t really register their presence. She had always considered them dolts with a cumulative intelligence somewhere below that of a clam. She had seen brass doorknobs brighter than most of them. “What’s the meaning of this? Why is my secretary tied up in my office? I want to know who did this - heads are going to roll!” “Well, well, Miss Montgomery, then you got our message, I presume,” intoned the antique board president as two of the burly security men strode up behind her. When they grasped both her arms, moving and holding them by her wrists and upper arms behind her back, Meredith shouted at them. “Let me go! I’m an executive vice president in this firm. You hear!” They were holding her so securely that she couldn’t struggle against their strength. “No! No this firm no longer employs you. We are invoking your indenture and we now own you. You will be medically examined at our facilities and, if found fit, pressed into service at a level far beneath that of an executive vice president.” The expression on Meredith’s face softened from anger to incredulity. “This is impossible. I’ve worked here for ten years; you made me a vice president. You can’t do…”

One of the board members interrupted her in mid-sentence, “Enough talk, strip her!” he said. Beads of perspiration formed on Meredith’s brow and her look became terror-stricken. Two security guards held her easily. When four more circled her unbuttoning her jacket and blouse; unloosening her belt and letting her skirt fall, Meredith didn’t struggle or protest. She just muttered under her breath at the arrogant old men who were subjecting her to such humiliation. “You bastards, I’ll get you for this!” No one but the security men heard her and by that time, they had her down to her bra and panties. She wore no garter belt; her tightly elasticised lacy stay-ups kept her hosiery in place. She looked a good deal more tarty in heels and stockings; the bikini cut of her panties barely concealing the delta of her mons, or full bottom cheeks, didn’t detract from the look. Her bra was low cut, pushing the creamy plumpness of her breasts up in smooth slopes of pulchritude. Their ample contours were more delineated than covered by her seemingly too small bra. When handcuffs clicked noisily tight around her wrists, taking her arms behind her, she could do nothing to conceal the attractive, nearly nude, and shapely proportions of her body. They turned her toward the side of the room. Then she saw the stout pole and the softly folded rug placed in front of it. The rug was strewn with leather and nylon web straps. Rope wound tightly around the pole at about waist height held a small locking snap-link dangling hard against the pole above the rug. Meredith didn’t like the look of what she saw and she liked it even less when they led her to stand in front of the pole. “Kneel on the rug, Miss Montgomery.” The polite request was accompanied with an irresistible and insistent pressure on her arms and shoulders. Meredith sank to her knees with a squeal of protest at the ease with which they handled her. Brute force, overwhelming numbers and circumstances commanded her co operation. So, when she was ordered to move her knees apart and spread her thighs, she did as she was told. A nylon strap was fitted under her shins near her ankles and brought up over her upper thighs quite near her groin. The touch of strange men’s hands so near her sex caused her to start, but they were only interested in the correct placement of the straps. Cinching them tight enough to make her whimper, they cut into the softness of her thighs, crushing her calves to her thighs preventing her from unfolding her legs. In her compelled kneeling posture, her wrists still cuffed behind her, two of the security men picked her up bodily and turned her facing out into the room with her back to the post. Bound on her knees wearing only her revealing lingerie Meredith didn’t like her prospects, but helpless to do much about it, she didn’t attempt to struggle in what she knew would be a futile attempt to escape the security men who exercised complete and humiliating control over her. Intellect was not a requirement and six brawny Neanderthals had little trouble in subduing and binding her in way she hadn’t dreamed of or expected. She opened her mouth to scream as one of the men grabbed a fistful of her long auburn hair, wrenching her head back and craning her neck painfully. By opening her

mouth she inadvertently presented the opportunity for another of the guards to slip a large, neoprene sleeved, steel ring in her mouth. Before she could even begin to scream or object, he turned the ring upright behind her front teeth and passed the buckling gag straps beneath her ears and behind her neck. Yet another of the security men threaded the strap through its buckle and when he pulled it tight and secured it, Meredith’s time for protest was over. The large steel ring jacked her mouth wide, hurting her jaw, and forcing her mouth to stay open while her lips formed a malleable ring in rounded imitation of the steel ring jammed behind her teeth. Now any objections or protests she might make were only garbled nonsense, she was nearing the condition appropriate for the ritualistic and degrading dismissal procedures planned especially for her by the board. First, they deprived her of her bra by simply cutting it off. Her garbled nonsensical objections were ignored. Moving her shoulders back and forth in a useless attempt to conceal her bared breasts only made them sway provocatively, she stopped in utter humiliation as all the board members and the security men watched her embarrassment with unconcealed enjoyment. “All right, get her up there so we can begin.” They got her up there and began. For over an hour and a half they raped Meredith in her mouth. When the board members were through with her, they gave the security men a go at her. Semen inundated her palate and tongue, she felt like retching from all they had made her swallow by merely tilting her head back and letting it run down her throat. What she hadn’t been made to swallow covered her chin, stranding onto the rug under her knees. Her total humiliation at the office complete, they had her bound for transport to the company training facilities for women. While watching the beauty of the Southern Coast slip by and her freedom with it, Meredith cringed in grim anticipation of what would become of her once the bus stopped. She hoped it would never stop, given what she had been put through earlier. She had been given a preliminary exercise in her forthcoming indentured service to the corporation. She was to be a sex slave for the management whom she had formerly worked with. They had told her this. While forcing their penises in her open mouth, they had each outlined the duties she would perform while at the training and service facility where she was to be delivered in stringent bondage. As they spurted their semen over her protesting tongue, spewing the foretaste of her fate into the back of her mouth from their rigid penises, she felt the salty warmth of her future slide down her throat as she gurgled helplessly with her head held back until she choked down what was given. Another hand in her hair and another penis growing turgid and long in her mouth was her reward for having successfully coaxed ejaculate to spurt in her mouth with lips and tongue. She had to do it nearly twenty times before they were through with her. The way they had placed her on her knees with her feet raised and strapped on either side of the pole, forcing the pole hard between her buttocks, making her lean forward without the possibility of moving back would have made her fall on her face but

for the way they bound her arms. They had pulled her manacled wrists up level with her head and tied the short connecting chain between the steel cuffs to the looped rope on the post. Meredith angled forward supported only by her bent knees with her arms raised straight out behind her wrenching her shoulders back making her look like an ornate open-mouthed bonnet figure on a vintage marque of motor car. That she couldn’t shift her position and all she could move was her head was precisely how they wanted her for the ignominious ritual of her dismissal. By holding her hair, one had actually brushed her hair back and held her by the ears, they worked her head back and forth like a puppet forcing her to fellate them until she felt the warm rush of their salty ejaculate at the back of her mouth. Her relegation ritual completed, she was released to be stripped entirely naked but for her shoes and, when bound, paraded through the halls and down to the private drive where she and Darlene were prodded aboard the red bus. She wondered if Darlene had suffered the same or similar humiliation as she had. She couldn’t tell by looking at her. She certainly hoped Darlene couldn’t see the evidence of what she had been forced to do. She hissed around her gag, sucking the saliva now covering the bright red surface of the ball. Some dribbled down her chin, feeling like the semen that had spilled from her lips earlier. She could still taste it although her saliva diluted it and only a faint trace of its pungent bouquet remained. Meredith moved her head back and forth as if to deny she had so much of their semen in her belly. She felt nauseated. It was to be a sensation she would have frequently in her bleak future. She would get used to it. The change in attitude was palpable when the red bus stopped. The men aboard walked forward from where they had been sitting. The women craned their necks to see where they were and grew restive while the men relieved their legs of the tight strapping. In pairs, they were released from their seats and urged to the narrow stairs. Unsteady on their legs, they had to be helped down and then off the bus. Darlene and Meredith were last and when they stepped off onto a gravelled drive, they joined the other girls at the end of their queue. Meredith knew most of the others; they had worked for her in one way or another over the years; all were her juniors in both years and position at the firm. As if to add to her humiliation, making her acutely aware of her ignominious demotion, Meredith was forced to pass in review so to speak as she was paraded down the line. She couldn’t bear to look at them, but they watched her with mixed feelings. Some, seeing a top executive bound and gagged, naked and as helpless as they, knew it didn’t forebode well for them while others savoured her comeuppance with unabashed interest in spite of their own identical circumstances. Drooling around her gag, breasts thrust forward in embarrassing exhibition, bedevilled by the cutting strap between her legs, Meredith waked the gamut of her shame and degradation trying desperately to keep from crying in front of those she considered, until now, her inferiors. Despite her efforts, the emotional agony of being displayed in public naked and humiliated caused tears to course down her pale cheeks while all watched. She was grateful when she was chivvied into line with the others in

penultimate place; Darlene stood at the end of their rank. She tried to shrink in anonymity; to disappear by staring at the neo-classic façade of the company’s training annex looming portentously before her. “Now you lot listen up.” A brawny black man, looking like a caricature of an image on a bottle of cleaning agent, strode before their cowed rank. He had no neck and his biceps were as big as most men’s thighs. His shiny bald pate glistened above broad handsome features and squinting malevolent eyes. In a basso-profundo rumble, he spoke to the women. “I am Jonathan. I am the discipline and punishment master here. I am the worst thing that can happen to you here at the training and service annex. Like the name, you will be trained for service. Should you for any reason be found wanting or disobedient while in either training or service you will be brought before me. You don’t want that to happen. I will hurt you and place you in punishment restraints that will make what you are wearing seem like leisure wear. You will adhere to my discipline and my orders immediately and without question. If you don’t, you will be the sorriest women on the planet.” The sheer size and demeanour of the man was intimidating. Coupled with the half-dozen uniformed men arranged in a semicircle behind him, each clenching three-foot long dog whips, the women took everything he said quite seriously. When he gave them his first order they moved hastily to obey. They were convinced they didn’t want to feel his wrath and they certainly didn’t want to feel those wicked looking whips on their bare flesh. So, on his order to turn and face the bus, all fourteen of the nude, bound and gagged women turned and faced the bus. Meredith felt peculiarly self-conscious as she turned with the rest of the women. None of them had ever seen her follow an order - she gave orders. Now as she turned to face the bus along with the others, extravagantly thrusting her sumptuous breasts forward toward its bright red exterior, she felt as if all eyes were on her and she were the only one bound helpless and naked before the other office girls as well as the unknown foreign men who commanded her. The shiny surface reflected their nude helplessness. By casting her eyes down, Meredith could see her reflection with Darlene on one side and one of the office girls she didn’t know on the other. The rest of the line was adumbrated in vague red repetition to her left. The sameness of their strained posture and bound helplessness didn’t detract from Meredith’s individual sense of shame. In some ways, it was a relief not to have to stand utterly naked and helpless facing those cruel looking men. The grinding embarrassment and crushing indignity of holding her breasts out in flagrant display; her uncontrollable drooling undisguised by the enforced upward tilt of her tear streaked face by her high stiff collar and the stringently tight straps drawn across her pale cheeks, buckled and locked at the back of her neck, silencing and forcing her to hold the bright saliva shiny ball, not only in her wide open mouth, but in a showy presentation of her helplessness between her dilated lips clasping the rubber sphere as if to show them her thoroughly gagged state of degradation while completely preventing her from objecting to her condition: all this she now saw reflected in the shining red

mirror of the bus that had brought her and the others to stand and act as they were ordered by cruel masters of their dismal destiny. Meredith felt lonely in her abject misery. The enormity of her disastrous fall from grace made inordinate by her formerly high position seemed all the more insufferable as she stared at her lewdly displayed reflection on the side of the bus. Her helplessly bound exhibitionism; inescapable physically, was as staggeringly wretched emotionally whether she displayed it to herself or to others. Turning her back to the men simply displayed other aspects of her physical and emotional restraints. Her mere obedience to the order to turn and face the vehicle that had brought her to this place and time portrayed her newly acquired servility. Her tightly strapped elbows and bared buttocks, cleft so deep and hard by the strap between her legs, now offered the men standing behind her another view of her nude and stringently bound body held in the obscene physical pose that matched her emotional restraint utterly cowed by the man who called himself Jonathan-her discipline and punishment master. Darlene, Meredith and the whole of their line reluctantly acknowledged Jonathan’s dominion over them by arranging themselves in further helplessness at his next command. “Step right up to the side of the bus, ladies. Stand with your chins and breasts pressed right into it.” He watched as they moved forward, savouring the agony caused by their tightly drawn quim straps even by the scant three or four steps they had to take to press their breasts and elevated chins to the smooth red surface. When they were all properly situated, Jonathan order them to move their feet back while still leaning into the side of the bus. Awkwardly, they did so. At a certain point, at a certain distance they overbalanced and, without the use of their arms and hands, couldn’t possibly bring themselves upright again without help. They leaned into the warm red surface, squashing their breasts out to the sides, staring in unfocused distress at the flat red metal wall supporting them with their legs angled well out from the vertical. Walking behind their line, four of the uniformed men working in pairs stepped behind each of them and, hooking their feet inside their ankles, forced their legs apart and farther back by simply dragging their ankles back and to the sides. Meredith gurgled behind her gag as she felt her chin and breasts slide down the side of the bus as her legs were spread open. They made the angle between her leaning body and the vertical side of the bus acute and thereby rendered her inescapably pinioned to the side of the bus by her own weight. She couldn’t bring her legs together without toppling over and she couldn’t raise herself without the use of her arms. The position exhibited the dark slash of leather rending their vulvas and the variety of genitalia from hirsute plump gashes to downy slits of moist flesh, exuded in pink inflorescence on either side of the tautly drawn leather between them. Meredith hadn’t been able to imagine what she must have looked like in her strained posture from the front until she saw her reflection on the bus. But now, with her legs forked wide she could actually feel the bulge of her vulva open and exposed, split by the strap drawn between her legs. Shivering in revulsion she again

felt degradation lapping at her in waves of exquisite humiliation. She felt like an obscene mannequin being used to display female genitalia for the morbid curiosity of strangers. From the time she had stepped into the boardroom, everything that had happened had incrementally increased her shame and embarrassment while diminishing her authority and power, not only in her own estimation, but in the terribly demeaning presence of women she had little in common with. It was so unfair, she thought. Straining against the tight strapping and the outrageous pose she had assumed upon the order of a black man she now knew as her master, Meredith clenched her buttocks and stiffened her legs when she sensed his presence behind her. She could do nothing to hide her shame or her leather-riven sex. It crushed her. She so wanted to move, to assume a modest posture, to be properly dressed. Perhaps if she could just speak to him he would understand her situation and if not let her go, at least let her plead her case before him or his supervisor. Meredith dithered about the protocols and wondered about the chain of command at the facility. In remarkable self-delusion she thought about how important she was to the company in her former capacity. Surely, they would see that if she could just explain. She didn’t belong here with the rest of these young women. It was too …Her mental rationales were interrupted rudely by a huge hand nearly covering her tautly strained bare bottom. Meredith started, raising on her toes in shock that someone beneath her station would touch her so familiarly, conveniently forgetting she had performed fellatio on six security guards earlier. “Keep your position, slag, or I’ll lay into your fat bum with the whip.” Meredith’s fantasies evaporated with a wet gurgle around her gag. She stood still but trembling while her soi-disant master stroked her bottom cheeks, hefting and fondling them like so much horseflesh, while she helplessly presented herself to him with her back arched as if to offer them to his touch. With her knees locked and legs spread wide, leaning against the bus as she was, the tension of her posture jutted and distended her tightly clenched bottom and kept her full thighs taut and her well muscled calves hard and bulging. It also spread her vulva. She groaned when his fingers moved through her pubic hair along her labia, feeling the compression of her swollen lips caused by the tight strap drawn between them. “Take another notch in that. She’s got too much slack.” While he moved on, one of the men pulled her crotch strap up another notch, causing a saliva laden shriek of anguish to burble around the red ball strapped in her mouth. Meredith knew she was being singled out. None of the other girls, although they were rudely handled in much the same way she had been, suffered the cutting agony between their legs she did. She could feel her swollen lips protuberant and bulging on either side of the strap nearly cutting her in two. It simply increased her shame and humiliation along with the flagrant display of her sex and powerlessness. Meredith’s world was red; the ball in her mouth, the side of the bus, and the sharp red torture of the strap that hurt so. Watery self-pity smeared her cheeks and chin with tears and slaver. Then she heard the distinctive clink and rattle of chains.

Until she felt a cold steel shackle around one of her ankles, Meredith didn’t know what they were doing. The unyielding rigid steel compressed her ankle and she heard the distinct sound of its lock clicking closed. When her shackled ankle was yanked inward to accommodate the short length of the chain, she nearly tumbled over, but managed to stay upright by pressing her torso, crushing her breasts, hard into the side of the bus. Then she felt the constriction of her other ankle in a heavy steel circlet, another loud click and Meredith wore her first pair of leg-irons. ‘My God,’ she whimpered to herself, ‘does it never end?’ The sheer weight of the medievally heavy shackles and their massive chain were frightening. The way they clasped her ankles in steely clawed desperation locked in unremovable hindrance, not only locked Meredith in the steel embrace of leg-irons, but also further reduced her to the status of a prisoner. She sank another notch down in the physical and emotional grip of torture and captivity. Her mind couldn’t bear it. They were disembowelling her with the limitlessness of their control. The physical pain and restraint, unbearable as it was, paled next to the emotional rape of her dignity and status. They were making a slave out of her. The next thing that happened was to show how correct she had been in her assessment of what she was becoming. The abrupt cruel wrenching of her head and shoulders as she was jerked up from the side of the bus by her hair and the strap around her arms was as frightening as it was painful because now she stood in her place in line wearing leg-irons as well as the rest of her bondage. Brought in line one behind the other Meredith could only see the tightly cinched elbows and the crown of the girl in front of her since both their heads were raised by their collars. She tried, by casting her eyes down, to see the configuration of what it was that weighed so heavily around her ankles. They must be huge, she thought, feeling the cumbersome leaden weight forged securely around each of her slim ankles. She couldn’t see them, but she felt them. Even the chain between seemed heavy despite its shortness. She had briefly felt its movement between her ankles when she had been yanked to her feet and made to turn and queue up. “Move your feet apart. Hold the chains between your ankles taut - get them off the ground.” Like a poorly drilled military formation without the discipline of training, the women opened their legs in an uncoordinated fashion, stretching the chains of their leg-irons in varying degrees of sagging compliance to the command. Meredith couldn’t see what was happening at the head of their rank other than there was movement and an occasional slapping sound and the gagged cry of one of their number. As they came closer, she could see the girl in front moving up close behind the girl in front of her. The line had become shorter and Meredith couldn’t hear what was said, but she was far enough back to see a man on one side carrying short leather straps with spring fasteners at both ends while another opposite cut his dog whip sharply into the crease between thigh and buttock of the girl ahead, eliciting a sharp rubber

stifled yelp and an immediate further parting of her thighs. She couldn’t lower her head far enough or look down sharply enough to see the leg-irons the girl wore, but she knew enough to edge one foot out as far as she could to draw her own chain as tight as possible. She didn’t want to feel that whip and, to her dismay, she complied with the order to stretch her chain taut in order to avoid it. For whatever reason; fear, recognition of Jonathan as her master, or sheer cowardice; Meredith drew up the heavy chain as she had been ordered. The added weight and the pressure she applied to her ankles was onerous, but as the men turned toward her she whimpered at the sight of the whip and struggled even harder to move her feet apart and tighten the chain. “Move up,” said the whip-wielding guard after his counterpart clipped the short leather lead to the ring at the front of Meredith’s collar. At a sharp tug on the lead fixed at her throat under her raised chin, Meredith stumbled forward, nearly tripping as she felt the snubbing effect of her leg-irons. With great effort, she moved forward taking quick small steps, snaking her ankle chain in rattling snapping frenzy between her steel clasped ankles. The weight and mass of leg-irons, burdensome while standing, became punishing as she shuffled forward under their crippling control. The steel gyves bit into her ankles brutally as she snapped the chain taut with each step, causing her to wince and adjust her gait to their cruel and deliberately short measure. The addition of leg-irons to her already severe bondage bore Meredith further down into the morass of her undeserved imprisonment and unjust treatment at the hands of her minders. While she struggled forward, mentally railing at her treatment, but following the constant pull of her neck lead like a leashed animal, she tried to stop some distance behind the girl at the end of the queue, but with an insistent and continuing pull of her leather lead she was urged forward until her diaphragm pressed into the girl’s projecting elbows strapped together behind her back. She watched the girl’s hair being lifted from the back of her neck and cringed as her short lead was snapped to the back of her collar. Meredith had to lean forward with her face just inches away from the dark hair of the girl in front; a wisp of her hair grazed her face and her view forward was completely blocked by the girl’s head. More mortifying than the simple discomfort of strict bondage was the unwanted intimacy demanded by the shortness of her collar lead. Meredith was forced to lodge her jutting breasts between the bound upper arms of the girl before her in line. Her nipples grazed the bulge of her shoulder blades prominently raised by her wrenched back shoulders. She couldn’t draw back, forced to keep her close distance by her coffle strap. In order to preserve some semblance of dignity and stand as far away as she could Meredith arched her back and leaned forward slightly, keeping her hips as far back as she could. If she didn’t, her pubic hair and mons brushed into the prominently displayed buttocks of the girl ahead who stood in the same awkward posture for the same reason. She did more than merely brush against the jutting buttocks in front of her when the unheralded crack of a whip sent shock waves of pain shuddering across her own prominently displayed bottom cheeks.

“Tighten your chain,” she was admonished as the burning cut of the whip sprung to livid crimson life on her pale cheeks. Feeling as if a line of fire had been drawn across her quivering bottom, Meredith pulled her ankle chain taut, wanting to dance the blistering flame of her agony away somehow. Instead, she simply trembled and endured yet another diminishment of autonomy and control of her fate. Her mental gymnastics gave her pause as she realised she would have to comply to their demands or be whipped, adding yet another layer of crushing defeat to her naked body and mind. Then she felt her hair lifted from behind her neck. Darlene’s generously proportioned breasts fit softly and warmly between her former boss’s bound arms. Meredith could feel the stiff turgidity of her nipples touching her shoulder blades. The enforced intimacy of their contact evoked peculiar feelings of embarrassment and familiarity in both women, as they stood so closely linked to each other. Meredith could feel Darlene’s diaphragm move and her breath in her hair as well as the occasional soft contact of her downy pubic thatch and the warm bulge of her pubes against her buttocks until Darlene too assumed the awkward stance of arching her back and jutting her buttocks out to avoid the too intimate contact. They were coffled together like slaves, Meredith realised. The appalling reality of her position and circumstances and her utter inability to alter it; the physical restraints she couldn’t possibly escape, leather strapped and chained steel restraints offering little latitude even for struggle and her gagged silence stilling objection were mere preparation for enslavement. One of more than a dozen hapless women, she shivered in dread sorority with the other naked and bound women as they stood pressed one to the other fearful and waiting. The harangue was delivered from behind the women out of their line of sight. Anonymity was impossible; the low leonine roar of Jonathan’s voice was distinct and commanding; its mesmerising effect unmistakable. Since he spoke unseen, the girls listened quietly and in strict attention to his instructions and admonitions. What he asked of them was impossible. Meredith knew she couldn’t possibly do what was demanded of her. Her severe bondage, as with all the girls in their leather-linked line, would prevent them from complying. It surprised her how the whip could make the impossible possible. To be sure, the first few yards of their forced march in the intimate coffle were chaotic. But with the judicious application of dog whips and the booming voice of Jonathan coaching and guiding their efforts, they finally achieved the co-ordination necessary to move ahead together. Like a fleshy centipede, the women struggled forward in step and in cadence. Meredith was incredulous at the effort it took and that she was actually coffled like a slave along with the other women. Jonathan had told them to key off each other for rhythm and to stay in step. The only way she could do that was to press close, not only with her breasts but with the rest of her body as well. Keeping her mid-section pushed up against the jutting elbows in front, feeling Darlene’s midriff against her own tightly strapped elbows, her breasts cradled between the bound arms ahead with Darlene’s softness pressing insistently between her upper arm with her nipples caressing her bare back, were but

static preliminaries to the closeness it required to move together. She had to move up to feel the movement of the girl ahead. Darlene had to move up to feel her movement. Consequently, Meredith was sandwiched between the nude warmth of both girls and the movement of their bodies was co-ordinated in this way. “Keep it closed up. In step, in rhythm, one-two, one-two. Listen to each other, feel each other, keep it up or feel the whip.” Jonathan’s sonorities reigned as the naked line of women struggled forward, their leg-irons swirling and clinking between their quickly moving feet. The jangle of chains and the sound of their feet drumming rhythmically on the stony drive were randomly shattered by the sharp crack of a whip lending encouragement and eliciting stifled shrieks of agony and fiery crimson steaks on bare legs as they continued to quick march in their debilitating coffled line. Pushing herself into the undulating buttocks, feeling the rise and fall of the girl’s thighs, Meredith strained to keep pace and stay close to the girl ahead straining as she did to keep moving and avoid the whip. Darlene’s pubic hair pressed into Meredith’s strap cleft buttocks and her thighs rose and fell in cadence with her own, brushing the back of Meredith’s churning thighs with their rise and fall at each step. They moved as if glued together, feeling each other’s effort while exerting their own. Darlene jerked and pressed even harder into Meredith when the whip slashed across the back of her thighs. Meredith heard her gurgling scream of agony at the back of her head, concentrating desperately to stay in step and not feel the whip herself; Meredith too sobbed her fear and exertion. Eyes wide with the effort to continue, fright darting from side to side to see if a whip was about to crack across her bared flesh, she lost herself in the sheer effort to keep up. She didn’t have time to think about her sorry state; she was too busy living it. Anaesthetised by the effort of her activity, Meredith concentrated on keeping step and place in the coffled line. Unable to see where she was going, unaware of anything but her continuing degradation and diminished status, she felt only the soft warm proximity of straining and naked bodies pressed to her own. She heard the changing sound of their heels and ankle chains, barely noticing the diminished light as they entered a building. Her awareness extended no further than the clean scent of the hair before her face and the pulsing rhythm of her distressfully bound nudity in concert with Darlene behind her and the girl struggling before her. Strangely, she felt as if she had become only part of a whole. The efforts of the first young woman in the coffle seemed to be transmitted directly to Meredith through the chain of warm feminine flesh pressed together in effort and sensual closeness. Her breasts rested between the bound arms of each of the struggling women ahead of her as Darlene’s warm full fleshiness fit between hers, moving and caressing her bare back in universal singularity. Meredith wondered briefly if the other women felt the same sensualisation. Her sheer helplessness, the severity of her inflexible leather and steel restraints and the churning nudity of which she was a part, evoked a breathless excitement not only due to her fear driven efforts, but also because of her part in a bizarre sisterhood of bound suffering

and gagged silence. The cruelly cutting strap between her legs that had caused nothing but pain up to now began to stimulate unheralded sensations as she lubricated it with her involuntary but copious vaginal seepage. It hurt so good in its soaked condition she couldn’t help but writhe under its insidious influence. She felt as if the whole file of naked and coffled women were responding as she was. She sensed a soft and persistent sensuality to their movement and their gagged groans of distress became tinged with stifled whimpers of strangely felt arousal. Still, Meredith felt as if she stood out somehow. Her patrician demeanour and strikingly handsome features, her maturity among youth, her arrogant dignity reduced to slobbering incapacity labelled her as a woman among girls; a queen among subjects and her humiliation was the greater for being coupled with them. The excitement she felt was all the more degrading in prompting her response, unwilling and unwanted, yet just as intensely as those younger girls whose slicked thighs matched her own under the peculiar stimulation of hurt and hopelessness and pleasant satisfaction provided apparently by not only the intercrural strap, but the whole experience of their bondage and captivity. The difference between Meredith’s sobs of anguish and her whining arousal blended like the warmly moving nakedness of their coffle. Nearly half the women reached orgasm before they reached the clinic. Meredith was not one of them and her frustration stood out rampantly, poking as hard as acorns into the bare back of her coffle mate. Her thighs were slick with the glistening evidence of her arousal; she had never felt so wet between her legs. Every tactile sensation eroticized her from the steel shackles around her ankles and the straps buckled to her arms to the stiffness of her collar and the fullness of her mouth. The total incapacitation of her hands held in the smooth leather mitts linked irremovably and motionless to her secure waistband prevented her from doing what she most embarrassingly wanted to-masturbate to her denied climax. She rubbed her wet slippery thighs together in a futile attempt at gratification. She felt the same motion behind her as Darlene moaned her frustration as well. The warm softness of Darlene’s breasts cradled between her arms and against her back, the turgid nipples as stiff and tumescent as her own made Meredith whimper in both humiliation and frustration as she stood helplessly grinding her hips in lewd and uncontrollable abandon. She felt ill; repulsed at her own actions as she tried to apply additional pressure to her vulva against the soaked leather strap between her legs. The steamy line of women flushed and breathless from the physical and emotional exertion of their closely coffled march were attended to quickly. By the time they reached Meredith and Darlene at the back of the line, half a dozen of the girls were either perched on examining tables or standing beside them. Utterly nude, divested of the cruel paraphernalia of their bondage, their fetters were strewn over chairs between the six narrow tables. The deep impressions made by the straps around their arms remained as striking evidence of how tightly they had been bound. Briefly noted, before being led to the side of the long room, Meredith saw blood-pressure cuffs, thermometers and the usual medical apparatus one might see in a surgery.

She had been told they would have to determine her physical fitness before she was put into training and service; this austere clinic was suited, in assembly line fashion, for that determination. Meredith, Darlene, and six of the remaining girls from the bus had to wait their turn. The waiting room consisted of a long iron pipe mounted high on the wall opposite the examination tables. Meredith and Darlene were the last to be installed. “Toes right against the wall, chain tight.” Since the uniformed guard carried one of the dreadful dog whips and Meredith had seen how the other girls were standing, she opened her legs to the extent permitted by her leg-irons and touched the base of the wall with the toes of her smart, fashionable Gucci court shoes. She felt unsteady; about to tumble over backwards until the short lead at her collar ring was wrapped over the pipe at eye level and doubled back to click with authority under her raised chin. The shortness of the leather lead forced her to strain up on her toes slightly, thereby forming tautly attractive muscular contours in her spread legs. She essentially hung from the pipe by her neck. The wide stiff collar bore her up by the back of her neck without choking, but the strain on her legs was obvious as she kept her heels about an inch above the floor to ease the strain on her neck and shoulders. Had she been permitted, she could have reduced the tension by bringing her legs together, but knowing she would feel the whip if she did, she kept the chain tight between her ankles and suffered her self-inflicted distress in gagged silence. The upward pull of her leash forced the upper edge of the collar up sharply under her jaw. With her head tilted back she sensed rather than saw Darlene being positioned beside her. She heard her stifled protests as she was leashed to the horizontal pipe. Her soft moans and whimpering told Meredith that her former secretary was hauled up on her toes as she was and they were together again in their mutual sisterhood of suffering. They stared up at the blank wall rising toward the ceiling above them. By the time they were released, both stood on legs trembling with fatigue. Meredith expected relief as her restraints were removed. Instead, she felt near paralysis in her arms and legs due to the length and severity of her bondage. She couldn’t move her arms, she couldn’t close her mouth and both she and Darlene, in thrall to the aftermath of being so severely bound, were led on wobbly legs to adjacent examination tables. Meredith’s thighs and calves ached and burned from the exhausting tiptoe stance she had been forced to hold for so long. Darlene nearly fell, weak kneed from the strenuous exertion of her legs that had bulged visually hard and firm even in her boots as she had strained up with her heels off the floor next to Meredith. Their arms felt numb and tingly, as useless as if they were still strapped together behind them and the impression of the wrist straps that had held their leather-mittened hands to their waist girths remained deeply etched above their still impaired hands, fingers and thumbs remaining in the tapered and powerless position in which the tight leather mitts had held them.

With only six examination tables and fourteen women to process for admission to the training programme, Darlene and Meredith were both denied the anonymity of being part of the group and were examined only with each other for company. They sat at the end of their respective high narrow benches while routine medical examinations proceeded without protest or resistance from the two weary women. Six of the uniformed guards remained, to their embarrassment, insuring their ongoing humiliation and strict compliance to the dictates of the white smocked medical examiners, also men. Completely nude, even their shoes and boots had to come off, they suffered the appraising glares of the guards as stethoscopes coldly monitored vital signs, blood pressure was taken and all the usual procedures of a thoroughgoing medical exam were applied. Meredith, denied the modesty of a gown, covered herself with her hands as best she could, concealing her breasts and pubes from the view of the guards, but revealing her embarrassment and humiliation all the more by doing so. Her former secretary seemed less aware of her nudity or the guards’ frankly admiring gazing at her voluptuous nakedness, whatever the case she did not attempt to cover herself. Darlene was a little squeamish when they drew blood, turning her head so as not to look at the syringe as it filled with red darkness from her vein. But even that unpleasantness passed without fuss. Although the high narrow examination tables were not much more than a metre apart, the two women managed to avoid looking at each other, keeping an emotional distance as best they could. However, when they were ordered to recline on their sides facing each other, they couldn’t avert their eyes. In the compelling anxiety of intimacy fostered by shared experience, they watched each other as reflections of themselves. Meredith watched the medical attendant approach the side of Darlene’s examining table behind her supine form. She saw him move Darlene’s upper leg forward as she felt a hand on the back of her thigh, pushing her tightly closed legs apart by moving her right knee forward. They both rotated their hips, rolling their buttocks up slightly. The partial turning of their hips opened them behind, exposing the lips of their sex and the dark pucker of their anuses. Darlene saw the look of surprise and embarrassment on Meredith’s face as the attendant prised her cheeks apart and inserted a rectal thermometer in her anus. Although she couldn’t see it, she knew what was happening to Meredith since she felt her own bottom cheeks separated and the cool glass tube of a rectal thermometer penetrate her clenched anus, slipping far up her rectum. It felt terribly long and thick -it was - it was a veterinary thermometer normally used on cattle and horses. The two women were left on their sides with long glass tubes protruding from between their bottom cheeks recording their internal temperatures and their outward humiliation. They watched each other to avoid acknowledging the decorative pose they had been placed in while the guards and staff gazed at their anal penetration and the exposure of their bare bottoms and vulval clefts so blatantly displayed by their demeaning positioning on the examination tables. After an eternity, the long tubes were extracted, temperatures recorded and the requisite urine sample was ordered.

Meredith asked where the lavatory was. She should have known better. The smirking response to her innocent question was the last thing she wanted to hear. But, like Darlene, sunk in despair and fear, she stood at the end of the examination table with her knees bent, thighs wide, holding her labia open with one hand while holding the glass jar for her urine in the other. Both women stared down in deep concentration to avoid the gaze of their omnipresent audience. It was just too mortifying; neither could relax their urinary sphincters in pubic. “You’ll stand there however long it takes.” Biting her lower lip, Darlene began to fill her bottle. Meredith followed in short order mortified as she voided her bladder in front of all the watching men in the clinic. Handing the sample jar warm with her urine to the attendant, she couldn’t make eye contact, her dignity having flowed into the glass container along with her urethral discharge. “On the table, on your back. We need to do a pelvic exam.” ‘My God,’ thought Meredith, ‘couldn’t they have a woman do it?’ She didn’t see stirrups or knee bolsters that usually helped her arrange herself in her gynaecologist’s surgery. She and Darlene lay back on the cool unpadded surface of the stainless steel tables. Darlene put her hands at her sides, Meredith covered her breasts with one arm cupping her plump mons and its protective triangle of hair with her other hand. Hardly a position for a pelvic exam, but she was loath to expose herself to the leering guards not six feet away. They had seen quite enough of her dignity ripped away already; she wished they would leave or at least have the courtesy to avert their eyes. Her eyes darted to the opening door of the clinic, hoping against hope that a female gynaecologist would sweep in and dismiss all the men for the most personal of female procedures. Jonathan charged into the room, all power and dominance; his aura of authority bulged like his muscles as he strode in. “Bring your knees up toward your chest and abduct your thighs,” said one of the attendants. Without hesitation Meredith and Darlene brought their knees up and stretched their thighs open wide. Meredith held her fingers to the table adjacent to her hips and Darlene assumed a similar position. Knees bent, toes nearly touching above the exposed rift of their vaginas, they lay still while rubber gloved fingers smeared with clear lubricant penetrated and probed their sex. The mere presence of Jonathan, their discipline and punishment master, induced immediate and total submission in the two women. They had no interest in being brought before him having heard the intimations of what would happen if they were. So in terror of the man that they would lay quite still on their backs with their knees raised and flung wide apart while other men watched them being given a pelvic; Meredith and Darlene both trembled in fear and obedience to his inordinate power over them. Jonathan stood at the side of Darlene’s table looking down at her. His sheer height made her dizzy; he seemed to be staring down at her from Empyrean heights dominating and making her small and insignificant in the

possession of his gaze. Jonathan disregarded her supine position, the yawning of her thighs, and the ongoing examination she was undergoing as he spoke to her looking only into her eyes. “You’re going to be a good girl for us while you’re here, aren’t you Darlene?” “Uh huh,” she responded. Jonathan’s dark eyes pinned her to the table while rubber-clad fingers delved, probed and intrusively examined her vagina with a second hand palpating her abdomen in a comprehensive examination of her privates. The visual and verbal interplay between Darlene and Jonathan seemed to take place in a separate universe while she held her knees apart granting access to the centre of her sexual being in another world between her widely spread thighs. “You’ll do everything required, won’t you, no matter how much pain or embarrassment it causes you?” “Yes,” she whispered while a man in a different universe thrust two fingers deeply into her birth canal as if reaching for her cervix. Jonathan reached into her emotions and the centre of her mental being coincidental with the tactile invasion of her sex, marrying the two in an inseparable cohesion yet separate in a confusion of rich sensations for the young girl. “I’m sure you will,” he crooned in an avuncular baritone. He patted her on one raised knee, “Keep yourself well open, we’ll be through here soon,” and he walked away as Darlene crooned in a soprano lament with the effort to stretch her gaping thighs even wider as if to grant access to her brain through her vagina. The hard steel of the table under her back and buttocks blocked Meredith’s escape route, which was to simply sink into the floor. The thought of leaping up from the table and running occurred to her. Nevertheless, she steeled herself and remained with her legs spread as she had been ordered gorgonized by Jonathan’s gaze as he loomed up alongside her. She couldn’t ignore him even with the distraction of her examiner’s fingers penetrating her vagina. Glancing down at her mortified expression and the vulnerable position she assumed while she was probed and inspected internally, Jonathan turned to a staff member and said, Who is this one again?” “She’s subject twenty. She was an executive, but they invoked her indenture.” “What’s her name?” “Meredith Montgomery. Yeah, Vice President or something, subject twenty now though, just like the others; a little older though.” While Meredith continued to hold her knees up and her thighs wide; while insistent fingers explored her internally; while she whimpered in embarrassment and humiliation, displayed as an example of her species, like an insect on the table, the impersonal conversation went on above her as if she were not there. Jonathan looked down at her face twisted in an expression that would have made the gods weep.

“We expect a lot from you Meredith. You’ll need to set an example for the younger girls. I’ll take a personal interest in your training and service. I’m sure you’ll do well. Won’t you?” Jonathan looked down at the suffering woman with a malevolent glint in his eye. He obviously enjoyed her catastrophic grief exacerbated while he watched when her rectal exam began and she announced it with a yelp of surprise and a look of shock on her face. Her legs trembled from the effort to hold herself in the proper position while looking up at Jonathan with her anus clenched around the digit spearing her between her distended bottom cheeks inserting its curious length into her rectum. “You’ll be sodomized regularly now that you’ve been indentured. You’ll have to accustom yourself to it, but we have devices we use to help you. Cross your ankles and wrists, grasp your ankles and continue to hold yourself open while you’re examined. I’ll show you another aspect of your responsibilities as chattel of the corporation.” Jonathan reached under the narrow table, adjusted something, and the table fell away from under her head. Her head fell back with her hair trailing toward the floor. As she strained to raise it, Jonathan told her to keep position and let her head fall back. “Now open your mouth. Open it wide.” Without understanding, but out of fear of the consequences of disobedience Meredith opened her mouth. “Wider.” Meredith opened her mouth as wide as she could. “Now put your tongue out over your lower lip and hold your position without moving.” Like some great naked bird Meredith lay obediently in the inelegant posture Jonathan had dictated. Her arms reaching down to her ankles holding them up in their crossed position, with her wrists crossed as well, supported her ample breasts between her upper arms, pushing them up together in ostentatiously fleshy mounds on her chest. Their exposure was made all the more blatant by her tipped back head making her breasts the focal point of her display as she lay quietly on her back as Jonathan had ordered. Her legs, knees sharply bent, raised and directed high and wide by her crossed ankles, rolled her buttocks up slightly on the table and of course yawned her thighs open wide, exposing, granting access, and making available her sex and anus to the examiner. Her position was reminiscent of plucked white poultry trussed and ready for roasting. Meredith moaned softly as one digit was replaced by two in her tight sphincter plying and prying her open painfully. Jonathan moved around the table observing both her vulnerable position and the ongoing anal intrusion she suffered while maintaining it. Meredith sunk deeper into the morass of her own humiliation unable to understand how she had been induced to assume such a demeaning attitude while violating every aspect of feminine modesty and surrendering the last iota of her dignity.

Jonathan appeared above her again and although she stared at the wall with her head hanging down trying to avoid seeing him in the absurd hope that it would prevent him from seeing her, he spoke to her as if they were having a cuppa together. “That’s fine, Meredith, I’m sure you’ll do well here. This unpleasantness will soon be over. We’ll have you cleaned up, shaved and properly shackled and your training will begin later today. You’ve already mastered one of our required display postures. There are sixteen of them; you will be learning the rest when training begins. They all have to do with openness and receptivity.” Jonathan turned to the man with his fingers in Meredith’s anus. “How is she?” he asked. “Tight but resilient. She’ll open up nicely with conditioning. Her tissue is healthy; shouldn’t be a problem.” “She has to be a healthy specimen or we can’t use her. It would be a shame to have to sell her. We don’t get a lot of management types here lately; it’s good to see them come in. They’re usually among the best and brightest. After they fully understand the new purpose of their lives they’re often quite trainable and accepting of their status.” Jonathan disappeared, leaving Meredith in her display posture while the medical orderly finished the unpleasantness of her internal examination. “Whenever you’re in the presence of staff and not otherwise restrained, this is the posture you must always take. As you learn other required positions of submission, you will assume them immediately upon demand, but this is how you will stand when not otherwise directed. You may only bring your legs together when directed to move from one place to another. Immediately upon stopping, you must again spread your legs wide. Any sign of disobedience or even reluctance will have you before the discipline and punishment master. Is that clear?” Darlene and Meredith nodded mutely standing in the position demanded of them. Legs spread wide, hands clasped at the nape of their necks with fingers intertwined under their hair and their elbows well back their utter nudity was fully and openly displayed. Modesty vanished with their compliance. “Right. Now into the next room. Subject twenty you first, blondie right behind. When you get to the door, stand right up against it, forehead, breasts, belly and thighs right against it and you,” he said looking at Darlene, “press right up behind her as close as you can. Wait for the door to be opened.” The door was cool, Darlene was warm. After the cut of the crop across her buttocks outside when she had forgotten to bring the chain of her leg-irons taut, Meredith remembered to spread her legs as she stood against the door. Darlene pressed up nakedly behind her, spreading her legs as well. The downy silken thatch on Darlene’s pubic mound softly abraded the cleft in Meredith’s jutting buttocks while her thighs, breasts and belly gently rested on Meredith’s bareness eroticizing both women against their will. When the door was opened, they nearly tumbled into the room. Regaining composure and position, they stood in a well-equipped loo while the guards, tucking their

whips under their arms, prepared purges for the two women. Darlene did as she was told and so did Meredith. The difference was Meredith did it with three livid scarlet stripes across her quivering bottom cheeks and tears streaming down her other rosy cheeks. Somehow, Meredith assumed that without Jonathan’s menacing presence, she could refuse the orders of her minders. ‘No I can’t,’ she pleaded when she saw the shiny aluminium ogival nozzle greased and ready for insertion. It was much to big and its radical hollow shape, widely blunt at its tip flaring much wider to a narrow neck attached to an enema hose, would stretch and hurt her more than she could stand. It stretched and hurt her very much indeed, as she stood bent over, feeling her bowels distend from the influx of liquid it delivered into her viscera. Its bulbous taper lodged firmly in her rectum held irremovably in place by her sphincter clenched behind its broad base gushed the cleansing purge into her until she thought she would burst. Both she and Darlene whimpered from the cramping caused by the large volume of their enemas while forced to hold it by the shape and size of the plug like nozzle tightly sealing their dilated anuses. The rubber enema bags hung loose and flaccid while Meredith and Darlene bulged uncomfortably full, their bellies and abdomens distended in blue veined translucence. The radial symmetry of taut muscular flesh binding the bulging flange of the steel nozzles securely in their rectums permitted not one drop of fluid to escape. Both women writhed and moaned piteously in their desperate need to evacuate. They were given three consecutive enemas, each larger than the one before. In each subsequent instance, Meredith obliged her minders by leaning forward, bending her knees and holding her cheeks apart for the reattachment of the enema hose to the stout nozzle in her anus. As painful and demeaning as that degrading behaviour was, the evacuation of her bowels in front of the guards, the devastating, crushing, indignity of squittering the watery flux from her viscera and the unladylike flatulence that accompanied it, was the most humiliating thing she had ever done. What made it worse and totally indecent was the retention nozzle being left in preventing closure of her sphincter permitting the purging fluid to gush out uncontrollably. Made to sit on the porcelain bowl, bent forward holding her ankles while the hose was detached and a back-pressure valve in the intrusive device was released, the smelly slurry of faecal matter and liquid poured out of her bowels unconstrained. The former executive and her secretary worked together side by side, unburdening themselves of large enemas; an activity they had never performed together before. Their mutual humiliation levelled their social status, irrevocably joining them in shared subjugation and degradation. Darlene was as embarrassed as Meredith was while sitting next to her former boss helplessly pouring out the liquid contents of her bowels. The two women had worked closely together in the past, but this particular embarrassment was excessively and quintessentially crushing for both. Stripped totally naked and defenceless, impaled by huge metal appliances depriving them of control of their most personal functions they surrendered absolutely to the half dozen uniformed men administering great doses of pain, humiliation, and liquid which they were coerced to accept both emotionally and

physically. The repeated command to assume the demeaning position required for the reattachment of enema hoses, legs wide, knees bent, leaning forward while holding their bottom cheeks open with their hands was as demeaning at the last as at the first. More so for Meredith in some ways since the crimson welts on her buttocks signified recalcitrance and was an engraved invitation of sorts to meet privately with the discipline and punishment master. And of course, she had ultimately succumbed by bending and opening herself for the painful insertion of the metal nozzle that facilitated her thoroughly shaming and thoroughly applied purging procedures. At the end, Meredith and Darlene stood utterly enervated in the prescribed stance. The silvery stem of their enema nozzles protruded between soft white cheeks dripping clear as rainwater until the internal valves were closed. They were made to walk to the next station of agony and degradation with the nozzles firmly in place. It hurt to walk as it was intended to do. Half a dozen guards carrying whips they were not reluctant to use, the vulnerability of total nudity, and sheer weariness from the prior events of the day only permitted reluctance, but not refusal, therefore, Meredith and Darlene clambered up onto two of the raised shallow copper basins arranged in a row of gleaming receptivity. “On your belly, put your hips just above the bar.” The large basins were two meters long and nearly a metre wide. Only fifteen or sixteen centimetres deep, a sturdy steel bar mounted all around the inside of the short sides of the basin held adjustable clamps; four to a side. Three had steel shackles attached and one pair held a transverse steel bar across the width of the shallow tub. The lateral bar was raised a few inches by elevated mounts, and when Meredith and Darlene arranged themselves as ordered, they lay draped over the bar with their buttocks prominently elevated. The unyielding bar rested just under their pubes at the join of thighs and hips supporting them uncomfortably, but put them in the position required for bathing. That they were to be bathed was obvious since the copper basins had a drain at one end and rubber hoses with spray nozzles, buckets of soapy water, and scrub brushes lay close at hand. First, they were restrained. Meredith lay with her arms folded under her supporting her torso and shoulders alongside her breasts so she wouldn’t have to press her breasts uncomfortably into the hard bottom of the basin. She kept her head raised looking down at the round drain hole near the end of the copper sheet under her. It was silver in contrast to the rich deep hue of the tub. It looked to her like some gaping bright maw where her free will and dignity, her former status and self assurance would be sluiced down like some unwanted female attribute by strange men who had come to control her to the point of ownership. They expressed their control by prying her tightly clenched fists from under her shoulders by her wrists. They pulled her arms out to each side and positioned her wrists in the manacles. A second pair of steel bands circled her arms near her bent elbows and she lay with her arms in a position of universal surrender with her chest flat on the hard surface of the tub. She had to turn her head putting her cheek down on the copper surface because of the positioning of her

arms, which denied her the ability to rise. Her back arched and her buttocks appeared even higher with her shoulders flat and her breasts squashed under her. She quietly moaned when a hand at each ankle wrenched her legs open and she felt the cold hard steel of shackles close and lock holding her totally still and helpless. She looked like some bizarre lab experiment spread out with a silver pipe rising from between her elevated bottom cheeks. Both women shrieked in pain when the steel nozzles were brutally ripped from the tight warm receptacles where they were buried. Their anuses gaped as if screaming too, closing slowly, and reluctantly regaining the tight crimped dimple that had yielded to the dilating instruments earlier. While exulting in the residual agony of having her anus so pitilessly violated, bathed in the memory of being whipped to acceptance of cruel insertion, Meredith whimpered from the lingering pain of abrupt withdrawal helplessly displaying the gaping consequences to all the men in the room. The warm spray between her raised bottom cheeks and the probing of rubber gloved fingers cleaning the lubricant internally and externally as if to remove telling evidence of her violation imprinted the experience indelibly while she lay hopelessly demeaned by the continuing cavalier manipulation of her bound nudity. She could neither lower her buttocks nor draw her legs together. Draped over the bar in bound exhibition as if putting her most intimate anatomy on offer Meredith suffered the ignominy of being bathed by men she not only didn’t know, but who treated her with the same careless indifference they would show as if bathing an animal, a pet dog perhaps. In spite of the humiliation, the warm water was relaxing and the scrub brushes were not the bristly coarse instruments they appeared to be. After an invigorating scrub, her shackles were unfastened and she was ordered over on her back. As she rose on her hands and knees, she saw Darlene flat on her back next. Her position and the glimpse Meredith got of what they were doing gave Meredith a clear picture of what further indignities she was about to suffer. Groaning with the effort to turn and with an expression on her face that looked like she was on an express bus to hell, Meredith lowered herself with the bar under her at the join of her buttocks and thighs. Supporting herself on her elbows, she slowly began to recline. Impatiently two of the men wrenched her arms out throwing her on her back with a shrill protest and quickly fixed her wrists and arms securely into the steel shackles once more. When her ankles were drawn wide and secured firmly in the shackles at the sides of the wash basin, Meredith lay with her pubic mound raised prominently by the bar holding her hips and buttocks raised and arching her back off the bottom of the copper basin. Only her arms and shoulders rested on the surface above and only her heels below. They sprayed her hair and face causing her to splutter, then the warm water was directed at her proffered mons and exposed vulva. While one of the men poured shampoo in her hair and vigorously massaged her scalp with strong fingers, another lathered her pubic hair thoroughly in preparation for shaving. In a peculiar concatenation of physical and emotional sensations, Meredith relaxed, enjoying the soothing attention at her head while her pubic thatch was shaved clean and bare. Something beyond the hirsute covering of

her mons and labia were removed by the slick glide and scrape of an expertly wielded cut-throat razor, it was a further reduction of dignity and denial of concealment bringing her down the path whose goal was her complete ownership and control by the corporation. The physical manifestations of owning her were only the visible signs of possession, mental and emotional property rights would be thoroughly inculcated through discipline and training. The path led in only one direction-Meredith’s subjugation and surrender to intrinsic feminine servitude. Her will to be anything but what was required would be stripped as smoothly and irrevocably as the hair on her pubic mound. Jonathan would see to it personally. Meredith strained to look down at herself after she was shaved. What she saw made her sob softly. Her freshly denuded mons bulged conspicuously at the base of her belly. Her tautly bowed thighs and elevated hips made the prominence of her mons the apex of her nudity and her inability to draw her legs together, with her ankles held wide to the sides of the basin, forced her to display her vulva in all its bareness and vulnerability. The bar under her pressed hard into the softness of her buttocks and thighs offering no relief from her arched exposure. The steel bands circling her wrists and arms held not only her arms in the position of surrender, but also pinned her shoulders to the basin flaunting her ample breasts high and wide on her chest. Pleasingly rounded and raised by the slight slope of her torso they to rose in eminence peaked by large aureoles and generous nipples only marginally less ostentatious than her hairless mons. Jonathan looked down on her lushly displayed nudity as an attendant sprayed her with a final rinse. She seemed nearly luminescent from the fresh pink glow left by the scrub brush and the water sheeting and dripping from her naked body. Bereft of modesty and makeup, her hair a sodden mass under her head Meredith looked up at the discipline and punishment master hovering above her helplessly displayed nakedness. Straining against the steel bands fixed to her arms and legs as if she could somehow escape their adamantine grasp and cover herself, she simply demonstrated their effectiveness writhing in futility against their unyielding grip. Adding to the healthy pink glow left by her scrubbing, Meredith crimsoned from brow to breasts as she heard Jonathan announce to the attendant how he wanted her brought to him for punishment. Meredith felt more than ridiculous as she was escorted into the dining hall her arms in the firm grasp of two guards. They marched her briskly through the tables where all the other girls sat watching her progress. Once she stood on the raised dais in full view of everyone, she felt even more exposed to ridicule. They had forced her to nearly run up the few steps, then left her shame faced on the dais alone with Jonathan and the Spartan requirements for her public punishment. She’d no idea she would be punished in front of everyone, that realisation, the innocuous looking padded bench, and the less innocent short cane dangling from the iron hand rail at its back were reason enough to give her shivers of dreadful anticipation. But the kit they had made her wear was above all else most embarrassing. Meredith was a mature woman; some years senior to most of the girls and women who had been

indentured and committed to the severe regime of the company-training annex. Therefore, her schoolgirl dress and demeanour were quintessentially humbling. Shiny patent-leather T-strapped shoes with no discernible heel over white knee-high socks revealed a good deal of her bare thighs beneath the short hem of her pleated tartan skirt. The starched whiteness of her blouse contrasted starkly with the dark plaid of her skirt straps lying over her breasts in front and crossed in back. They had done her hair in two fluffy falls behind her ears giving her a juvenile look not unlike that of some sixth-former. Meredith felt the fool for being presented to all in such a juvenile kit; it hardly seemed fitting for a woman in her mid-thirties and an executive vice president at that. She was having a good deal of trouble shedding her former status and position. Jonathan would have her in a position that would reduce her to a snivelling schoolgirl in short order. The stillness of the room was palpable as though some physical force was isolating Meredith and Jonathan throwing each movement they made into high relief. Meredith’s humiliation was embellished by the mental confusion induced by her schoolgirl uniform amplifying and exaggerating her presence on the dais as if she were some unruly schoolgirl to be chastised for girlish misdemeanours. Her sense of being observed dissolved in a strange feeling of solitude controlled entirely by the overpowering physical presence of Jonathan. The light in her eyes reflected youth and beauty confronted by an adult obligation to relinquish her will to the commanding black man who was her discipline and punishment master. The tenderness she saw reflected on his face was unexpected and an added confusion factor that induced only abject surrender and complete obedience to his domination. Her subjugation to his imminent discipline and punishment was tacitly agreed to by both as Meredith stood like a schoolgirl in front of her master. “Kneel up on the caning bench, Miss Montgomery.” The near whisper of his voice carried no further than Meredith’s lowered head. And like the obedient schoolgirl she resembled, Meredith stepped to the high bench. The soft scuffle of her shiny shoes was the only sound in the still dining hall. The nearly fifty girls watching from their places at table seemed to be holding their breath magnifying the silence and making Meredith’s movements and quiet rustlings significant beyond their softly sounded obedience. Since the top of the wide narrow bench was near mid-thigh, Meredith had to raise her knee high and to the side while grasping the low black iron rail at the back of the bench and then pull herself up to properly mount and kneel as she had been ordered. Once she knelt up on the bench positioned high as the visual focal point in full view of all in the room, Jonathan moved in front of her and issued further instruction. “Move up with your knees pressed well into the board. Lean forward and raise your skirt to your waist. Lower your panties to bare your bottom then grasp the bar with your palms forward. Keep your arms straight, arch your back, and bend your knees slightly offering your buttocks to the cane. Keep your head up.”

With that he removed the short whippy whalebone stave from its hook and, once Meredith had arranged herself as ordered, offered the instrument of her chastisement to her lips. “Kiss it,” he commanded. Meredith brushed it with her lips. Her own role in preparation for chastisement diminished her more by far than if she had been bound naked and helpless for her punishment. Raising her skirt and lowering her panties to offer her bottom cheeks not only to the cane, but in full broad bareness to the other women watching showed them more than the bared white globes of her behind. It showed her acceptance of Jonathan’s authority and her meek acquiescence to his right to thrash her for her insolent behaviour. There was no questioning or hesitation when he told her to raise her skirt and lower her panties. Meredith raised the hem of her skirt high on her waist, and with her fingers inside the elastic, slipped the tautly stretched swath of black silk down over her hips lowering them to divulge the swell of her broadened buttocks and hips. The waistband clung to her thighs underlining the pale distension of her bare bottom with the crotch panel, as if on tenterhooks, stretching beneath the deep cleft of her buttocks darkly adumbrating the bulge of her sex and suggestively pointing to the concealed pucker of her anal rim between the deep rift of her pale cheeks. She gave herself up to Jonathan, the cane, and the other girls empathetically watching her self-preparation. After she kissed the whalebone rod, Meredith raised her head staring at the blank wall she faced. With her arms straight, elbows locked gripping the stout steel bar tightly she felt Jonathan’s broad hand in the small of her back. “Arch your back more,” he commanded. Meredith did as she was told distending her cheeks wider raising and presenting them prominently. She was ready. The presentation she made to the interested observers beneath the dais lent an air of anonymity to the woman perched on the punishment bench. All they could see was the broad exhibition of her white bottom cheeks, the back of her thighs with her black silk panties lowered to their fleshy pillared fullness in proper half masted divulgence, and the light tan soles of her shoes. She was simply a still life study of ‘Woman Positioned for Punishment’. Jonathan lent animation to the still life. The tableau was visually completed as Jonathan wrapped his right arm around Meredith’s waist holding her close to his side while bending and bracing his knee against the bench. The thin whippy switch appeared tiny and ineffectual in his ham-fisted grip. When he applied it, the colours of sound and motion it adduced in the hapless Meredith demonstrated its effectiveness brightly and loudly. Her first cry was one of astonishment, not pain. She was astonished at the burning pain it laid across her nates. The contrast of Jonathan’s calm and deliberate motion with Meredith’s frantic kicking of her lower legs and the futile rolling of her buttocks to escape the cut and bite of agony laid on remorselessly by her discipline and punishment master was like a peculiar and erotic Punch and Judy show.

While Jonathan painted her pale bottom cheeks with stripes of crimson agony Meredith painted the walls of the dining hall with the scarlet screams of her suffering. Nothing had ever hurt so much as the burning incisions made by the tirelessly flagellating whalebone splattering pain and punishment across her bottom, forcing it through her brainstem and out her mouth in strident exhalations of obedience to its rhythmic splat. Her fleshy cheeks shuddered and quaked at each pain-splashing stroke dancing agony in blazing fiery welts across her proffered buttocks. Her cheeks glowed like two quivering suns emanating searing heat and light in an iridescence of torment. The strident tortured tone of Meredith’s wails and the authoritative splat of whalebone sending shock waves across her juddering bottom cheeks dispelled the appearance of a schoolgirl being punished by her master. Her squirming pain filled punishment drenching the auditorium like setting with the naked tortured screams of a mature woman being given a lesson in obedience. In spite of the severity of her discipline and against all reason, Meredith clung to the bar of the caning bench with a grip that kept her in position as relentlessly as Jonathan’s methodical and maddening painful application of the whippy whalebone. A raspberry flush glowed brightly like garnishes of agony on her pale globes dancing and quivering in vulnerable presentation for the bone cane and its blazing ministrations. The louder her sobbing squeals of pain and agony, the more frenetically she wriggled her hips and bottom in animation of her suffering, the more acutely she arched her back and thrust her buttocks rearward as if to escape her disciplining by broadening and offering her bottom cheeks beyond the merciless range of agony burning and flaming her bared bottom. The lusty and lascivious exhibition of her nates declared an emotional state beyond those evoked by punishment and discipline. A slick vaginal exudate as unctuous as it was plentiful shone wetly on Meredith’s swollen labia. Her pain, humiliation, and public denigration triggered a sexual response that was as surprising to her as it was commonplace to Jonathan. When he saw the unmistakable signs of her sexual arousal, he stopped her punishment. Unfulfilled need surged through Meredith’s mind and body as she sobbed uncontrollably displaying her pain polished nates and the intensity of her excitement in seeping wetness on the bulge of her shaved vulva and the soft whiteness of her inner thighs. Her inner lips extruded pink and nearly dripping with desire as a sign of her successfully administered punishment. Her response was as Jonathan expected it to be. He made her give him thanks in the standard fashion of those indentured to the annex. The nadir of her humiliation was not in the act itself, but in the mortifying return to her table with the evidence smeared over her face. Jonathan had her fellate him in front of everyone. His sexual equipment was more weapon like than anything Meredith had ever experienced in her active sexual life. Nevertheless, she took the truncheon-sized member in her mouth as well as she could. Her efforts left most of his thick shaft a dusky dull charcoal with her saliva glistening only on the glans and forepart that she could accommodate in her widely opened mouth and pliant lips. She knelt before him moving her upper body forward and back sucking and stimulating

his rigidity in crushing humiliation as the gathered assemblage watched. Gurgling and groaning, sobbing and choking with her efforts, holding her wrists crossed behind her back and her ankles as well, just as Jonathan had ordered, the rough fabric of her skirt seeming to lacerate her burning bottom cheeks, in extension of her pain and punishment. Meredith knelt up in her short skirt and white knee socks orally servicing her discipline and punishment master. Meredith again looked like a schoolgirl. Her former dignity and elevated station in life disappeared as she gulped and gargled with Jonathan’s penis in her mouth. His firm hand on the top of her head guided and urged her back and forth making her take the length and girth of him as deeply as she could then pushed her back to reveal the slick gleam of her saliva on his emerging staff as she hollowed her cheeks and pursed her lips in pouty fullness drawing her lips along it as if reluctant to let it slip from her mouth. Repeatedly moving her to and fro, distorting her attractive features as he penetrated her orally Meredith whinged with her cheeks bulging and lips dilated gagging from the fullness over her tongue and at her gorge, and when she could no longer breathe, he withdrew once more only to repeat the process. The concentration on her aristocratic features as she avidly applied herself to taking Jonathan as fully into her mouth as she could, detracted from her youthful appearance, as did the act itself. On the other hand, the eagerness of earnestness with which she applied herself seemed to display an enthusiasm often seen only in the very young. Eyes wide from the thrust into her throat, closed in what appeared to be rapt attention when the bone hard erection was extracted from her grasping lips as if a huge black bar were being withdrawn from her gaping maw, Meredith ignominiously lent tongue and lip to the task forced on her. When he reached release, he only permitted the first spurting gush of his semen to enter her mouth, the subsequent generous amounts of his ejaculate he splattered on her face. Meredith’s humiliation reached symphonic proportions when she threaded her way through the dining tables as the other women watched. Jonathan’s semen, her own tears, and an utterly crestfallen expression adorned her patrician features. Spittle and semen bubbled over her lower lip, tears streamed down both cheeks, and globules of Jonathan’s semen streaked and clung to one cheek from under her eye to her ear and down her chin. The visual signs of her humiliation and chastisement were as nothing to the inner turmoil of emotions she suffered when she rejoined her group at table. Her dignity and sophistication had been left on the raised dais; the woman who returned understood utterly that she was no longer an executive vice president with the corporation, but chattel-a female commodity solely owned and controlled by the company and its agent in the form of a huge black man who was her discipline and punishment master. She looked up at the dais where he stood surveying his property. Her gaze was full of hate and affection. It hurt to sit. Her bottom burned incessantly, she was wet between her legs, and her face was a humiliating mess of continuing embarrassment. A staff member handed her a towel. She gratefully wiped her face and began to eat. She could taste Jonathan in an aftertaste that flavoured her food and

emotions in a curious and confusing fashion. It seemed a foretaste in not unpleasant anticipation reflected by the heat of her blushing face, still blazing bottom, and slick warm residue between her thighs. They permitted her to shower watched over by three uniformed men. The rectification of attitude induced by her punishment was reflected in Meredith’s docile obedience to the commands given her by the guards. She stripped her schoolgirl kit off without demur. When totally naked once again, she immediately raised her arms and clasped her hands at the nape of her neck with fingers intertwined. She moved her legs apart until her inner thighs tautened and hollowed adjacent to the smooth bulge of her denuded mons splitting the plumpness of her outer labia to reveal the fleshy petals they normally concealed. The completeness of her nudity exacerbated by her clean-shaven genitalia was demeaning and the attitude of total exposure she was required to assume made her blush in self-conscious embarrassment as she essentially presented herself for inspection. The dolorous expression on her face reflected her distress; she bit her lower lip trying not to make eye contact with the men evaluating the correctness of her posture and appraising the lift and jut of her breasts and the exhibition of her bared sex between her widespread thighs. They let her stand for a long time, testing her resolve and the success of her punishment. Meredith didn’t move displaying her nudity and submission in dutiful compliance to their orders and the rigorous rules for female trainees. “Right then, off to the loo now. We’ll see if you’re not a little more cooperative today.” Meredith’s heart sunk and her eyes blurred with tears as she heard her destination. She knew what would happen there and didn’t relish the degrading procedure. They marched her through the passageways to the loo where a bulging rubber bag and a well-greased nozzle hung in readiness for her internal cleansing. Her breasts heaved and wobbled as she strode between her escorts. Almost joyfully, it seemed although the look of despair and anxiety distorting her downturned mouth and the sinking of her heart belied that joyfulness. The room was the same; bright tile and the usual accoutrements of a well equipped toilet. The hope she held that perhaps she wouldn’t be subject to the same indignities as yesterday vanished the instant Meredith saw the clinical complexity of the device hanging in preparation to administer her an enema. The apparatus dangling from a chrome IV stand was similar to that she and Darlene had experienced the day before except for the nozzle. She couldn’t miss it, as it stood front and centre with all its dangling hoses and pumps dripping from a long thick black nozzle gleaming in slick lubricated malevolence rigid and upright in its storage clamp. “Right then, let’s see if we can get this messy business done without the whip and another punishment and discipline session for you. You’ll be taking your first training appliance today-want to be nice and clean for that them don’t we,” he asked rhetorically.

Meredith didn’t respond. She spread her legs and waited silently. She hadn’t a clue what a training appliance was. “Don’t we? He demanded, obviously expecting an answer from the cowering Meredith standing in display posture before him. “Yes sir,” she answered softly. “Fine. Bend and spread then. Just like yesterday. We won’t need the whip will we?” “No sir,” Meredith responded meekly with a catch in her voice. She bent her knees, leaned forward, and jutted her buttocks rearward. With both hands she reached behind her and with a hiss of pain from the touch of her own hands on the still cherry red splotches on her cheeks she pulled her bottom cheeks wide apart granting visual and physical access to her anus. Claw like her hands separated and held her full globes open while lubricant was slathered on the roseate rim of her proffered anal sphincter wincing and groaning softly as a rubber clad finger penetrated her tight musculature forcing lubricant into her rectum. She remained in position for the insertion of the long thick nozzle. She couldn’t bear to look at the apparatus as she heard the rattle and clink of the nozzle being detached from its holder. Steeling herself in the lewd crouch demanded, Meredith continued to hold herself open and available for the unimpeded insertion of the enema nozzle. She flinched when she felt the blunt hardness of its tip in the centre of her entry. As she felt the pressure increase and the initial dilation of her anus, she pulled her cheeks wider to ease its entry. When it breached the tight ring making her groan softly, the rest of the ebony shaft slipped remorselessly and deeply into her rectum. It was much longer than the metal plug like nozzle used the day before. They kept pushing it up and into her until she thought she might be injured internally. Meredith felt absolutely impaled on its long rigidity. She felt as if it protruded into her belly, and if they kept pushing, it would come out her mouth. When she was fully stuffed, breathing softly and taking only shallow breaths against the intrusive rod in her rear, they stopped and the whoosh of the internal retention bladder gained her attention as the rubber balloon expanded inside her. As it grew larger, Meredith realised that she wouldn’t possibly be able to evacuate the long thick pipe-stem lodged in her rectum. They would be able to pump enema fluid into her bowels until it flooded from her nose and mouth if they wanted to. The realisation did not give her a feeling of security. Then they inflated the exterior bladder. Once the two retention bladders were fully expanded sealing her anus tightly on both sides of the nozzle’s shaft dilating her rear entry they let her put her hands on her knees and, still bending forward, Meredith felt the initial surge of fluid squirting into her viscera. She moaned mightily near the end when she thought she was about to burst from the relentless influx of liquid into her bowels. They made her hold it for a full fifteen minutes that stretched to an eternity of agony for the wretched Meredith. Her relief was as great as her humiliation as she emptied her bowels noisily into the WC.

“Well that was a good start. Just one or two more and we’ll have you well cleaned out indeed.” They made her lean forward on the commode and wiped her with damp cloths. She felt like a baby having its bum cleaned up after its nappy was soiled. With a piteous whine of reluctance and a breathy sigh of resignation, she resumed the posture required for her second enema. The long cool length of the nozzle reintroduced between her widely held cheeks felt familiar if not pleasant as it slipped far up into her again. The prolonged thrust evoked a groan akin to the sounds she normally made when vaginally penetrated by a lover. She wasn’t sure if it was all the way in and turned her head as if to ask if she were properly and totally impaled on the long black tube. She stretched her cheeks wider as if asking for more. The dark striated surround of her anal areola grasping the slick glisten of the stout nozzle and the obscene exhibition of her bare vulva beneath coupled with the distension of her widely held cheeks displayed her willing reluctance to be given another enema. She grunted with acceptance and seeming satisfaction as the last inch or so disappeared in her tightly opened anal rim. Hands on knees once more her buttocks prominently presented by her half-crouching posture Meredith stood with the exterior bladder of her enema apparatus fully expanded between her blemished and distended bottom cheeks taking a full four quart enema under the watchful eyes of three uniformed men whose presence only added to the utter degradation she suffered as she whimpered from the discomforting cramps caused by the huge enema. A warm hand under her, feeling the swelling of her belly as if she were some animal being ministered to assured the guard she could take it all. Meredith wasn’t so sure. She tried to void to no avail as the bulging rubber seals relentlessly prevented her from evacuating or expelling the gushing nozzle planted irremovably in her rectal sheath. She began to plead for them to stop. “I can’t hold any more,” she wailed. She began a little prance of pain bending and squatting slightly moving her weight from one leg to the other in an agonised effort to escape her impalement and relentless filling. “Aaaah! Aaaah! No more, please no more,” she begged breathlessly while squirming and dancing at the end of the bright red hose seemingly plugged into her as proximal cause of the pain laden dance she did at the end of its quivering swaying sinuosity. She passed another fifteen minutes of agony as her purge worked in all the bends and crooks of her viscera cleansing and cleaning with its invasive liquidity. Meredith was undone when she heard she was to have another. She sobbed aloud when the senior of her guards countermanded the order and the third filling of the large orange enema bag ceased. “She’s run clear she has. Nothing left to flush. Let’s get her to the clinic for her trainer. The rest of her group is already at the smithy. We’ll have to catch her up for her posture training.” Meredith was so grateful that she wouldn’t be given another debilitating enema and have to suffer the indignity of giving her self up to the insufferable humiliation of insertion and evacuation she nearly leapt to her feet assuming

the posture of display she was becoming accustomed to. They marched her to the clinic. Her breasts bobbled and jounced as she walked-perhaps there was real, rather than just perceived joy in her step and the apparent enthusiasm of her uplifted breasts may well have matched the uplift of her spirits as she left the dreaded loo behind. There was a certain liveliness to her step, caused in part no doubt by the one article of clothing she had been given to wear. High-heeled shoes. Her Gucci’s were gone, but the somewhat theatrical calfskin court shoes were well made and the tall heels moulded her legs attractively. She felt as if she was walking downhill in the extreme heels, but she preferred her well-shod nudity to the adolescent kit she had worn earlier. She certainly didn’t feel like a child any longer. Meredith braced her elbows and shoulders back; lifted and presented her full breasted femininity in the closest state to happiness she had felt since arriving in chains at the company’s training annex. Then she entered the clinic. “Oh right you are, last one then, is she? What’s her number?” “This is subject twenty. She’s late because she had an appointment with the discipline and punishment master this morning.” “Well no doubt he straightened you out. A little setback is always a good basis for further advancement. Isn’t it little lady?” Meredith’s full figured maturity dwarfed the small stature of the callow cockalorum standing before her in all his gathered authority. She resented being called little lady by a mere lad who was at least ten years her junior. In her heels, she towered over him and his arrogance made her want to spit in his eye. Skinny and frail like an inadequate copy of John Lennon, his poor complexion peered from behind owlish glasses with a perpetual smirk that was both annoying and repulsive to the elegant Meredith. Her total nudity and submissive posture before his white-coated authority made all the striking differences between them perversely reversed and Meredith stood stoically while he violated her with his eyes. He stepped behind the unmoving Meredith noting the rosy hue of her ample buttocks. “Had a little spanking this morning then, did we?” his voice dripped with condescension and he fondled her full globes crudely. Meredith rose on her toes and yelped in surprise and indignation. She nearly spun on the young man to slap the smug expression from his face. She thought better of it with the three guards standing by and eased herself down on her heels seething in high dudgeon at the effrontery of the boy. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” He wouldn’t let go. He made himself self important by humiliating Meredith. “I asked a question. You answer when I speak to you.” “Yes, sir,” she responded through clenched teeth. She couldn’t look at him. “Well, it might too, but you slag have to learn what you’re here for. Thanked him properly then too, did you?” After a pause, Meredith said, “Yes sir.”

“And did he have you swallow or just splatter himself on your face?” “On my face, sir.” Meredith was collapsing inside as the boy strutted his scrawny face and figure before her voluptuousness. He was like a slug on a rose and Meredith teetered on the verge of screaming and bolting from the room. She knew as long as she remained obedient, showing her submission and utter nakedness in the prescribed manner, she was relatively safe. Should she break from her self-imposed discipline she wouldn’t get far naked and in high heels. She entertained impossible ideas of escape and liberty, each one ending with her being easily caught and brought back to the clinic in severely bound and gagged helplessness for submission to the unwanted attentions of the boy chiding and demeaning her. She supplied her own helplessness by standing with her arms raised and legs spread hoping he would soon be done with her. At the same time, she wondered how she might be punished if she were brought before her discipline and punishment master for another public chastisement. Meredith shuddered at the thought and maintained her posture. She gave herself the collywobbles just thinking about Jonathan and what he might do to her. It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant feeling. Meredith plunged back into the present with the strident squeaky voice of the little medical orderly informing her she was to be buggered on a regular basis during training and while in service to the company executives afterwards. She couldn’t believe it. How could she possibly accept such vile treatment? It was beyond the ken. But it validated Jonathan’s previous indication of her sexual usefulness to the corporation. “Don’t get any uncalled for pregnancies that way, turns out better for all. Of course, it hurts some in the beginning, but we have a little device here that will help you learn to accommodate some of our well-equipped trainers. This is an anal training device,” he held a black rubber phallus with all the anatomically correct features of a man’s penis but for the scrotum and testicles. Meredith sucked in her breath and the little man continued his horrible outline for her training and subsequent service. “Now our training program, like our anal trainers is graduated. You get the soft easy stuff in the beginning and as you progress, we introduce the more severe and strict aspects of the programme. Today you will be introduced to the first and smallest of your anal trainers.” The gargantuan size of the black phallus he held forced a soft whimper from the demoralised Meredith. She was on the brink of running again. As part of your pelvic exam the approximate size and resilience of your anus was determined. You’ll wear that size today. Larger ones will be introduced in the course of your training. Now, there are two ways we can do this,” he gestured to one of the examining tables where a steel frame had been mounted. It looked like an architect’s model for a small truss span. Open leather cuffs and straps with large brass buckles were strewn in appropriate places to hold a woman on her belly with her buttocks raised in high and wide vulnerability. Meredith glanced at its menacing shape not knowing precisely how it worked, but sure of its purpose.

“Or,” he went on; “you can properly aid in its placement by arranging yourself as you are told to do. In either case, you will be wearing your first trainer when you leave here today. What’s it to be?” Meredith didn’t answer, terrified by the size of the instrument in his hand and the dilemma of Hobson's choice she had been offered. Her hesitation elicited a nod from the orderly and in two quick steps, she was grasped by all three of the guards simultaneously. As she had her arms twisted up behind her back by two of them she screamed at the ceiling with her head wrenched back by her hair in the tight fist of the third. They frog marched her to the table holding her struggling nakedness easily while she screamed, “No! No! I’ll do it don’t put me up there.” The ‘there’ came out in a gasp as she was lifted bodily from her feet and all but flung over the frame. The highest transverse bar struck her across the solar plexus knocking the breath out of her and as she gasped for air, her hair was held up off her neck for a wide leather strap to be fitted and buckled fast to the lower front of the high frame. The single strap around her neck held her mounted inescapably draped over the high arch of the mounting frame with her head nearly to the table top and her buttocks raised high above the deep arch in her back. Her legs dangled over the other side of the nearly wedge shaped frame in gangly and awkward disarray. While still holding her hair in his firm grip, Meredith begging to be let go, promising her willingness to do as she was told, the guard ripped her head up by her hair and set a Y-shaped yoke into the frame under her jaw. It rose from her jaw along side her cheeks just in front of her ears to her temples. It was stainless steel with no padding, kept her head raised with her neck wrenched back sharply against the tightened stricture of the leather strap at the back of her neck and cut down her protests markedly since she couldn’t very well open her jaw against the unyielding steel and leather vice like grip of its effective combination. Meredith scrabbled her feet on the tabletop and, when they let her arms go she gripped the uprights of the frame in a frantic effort to pull her head out of the gruesome and torturous steel yoke and leather collar. She remained as she was while her limbs were easily and leisurely secured. “How you want her arms Merce?” “Strap ‘em to an arm bar. We’ll use her hair to hold them up out of the way.” “You want her gagged?” “Oh to be sure. Put a choker in her. She seems the strong silent type, we’ll give her a little help in keeping her tongue.” “Legs as usual?” “Yeah, but use a knee bar as well. I don’t want her wigglin’ up there. I’m going to use a size too large, give ‘er a little something to think about. I want to use the steel cheek bands as well. Get her spread open good so’s she’ll take the bigger size no trouble. She’ll damned well waddle when I’m through stuffin’ ‘er.” Meredith waddled when she left the clinic, she was crying as well. She felt as if a log had been driven into her rectum. Each enervating step she took

sent sharp pains shooting into her abdomen and raked her dilated anus with excruciation that denied description. It took all her strength and will to place one foot in front of the other. It hurt just to be, let alone walk. Would these trials never end she wondered as she was moved to the smithy for additional agony and humiliation. It was not yet noon. She’d had trouble breathing when finally secured to the mounting frame, as Merce wanted her. Merce the merciless was his soubriquet Meredith later learned. He certainly showed her no mercy she discovered ruefully as she suffered at his pleasure mounted in agony on the cruel clinical frame while he fit her anal trainer. The expanded pear shaped gag they had forced in her mouth not only filled her oral cavity, but also extended far back over her tongue. Meredith thought her neck would break when they yanked her head up by her hair to open her mouth. It wasn’t so bad until they expanded it. It depressed her tongue ruthlessly to the floor of her mouth crushing it down behind her lower teeth. At the same time a knobbed cylinder slid back over her tongue into the opening of her gorge. Meredith flushed in near panic as she felt the protrusion nearly blocking her breathing passage and struggled fiercely to suppress her gag reflex. She felt on the verge of suffocating and had to concentrate to breathe through her nose taking shallow breaths. She learned what a choker gag was as her concentration on not choking took all her energy leaving no capability to resist as her arms and legs were strapped in helpless immobility by the three guards. With her arms held behind her back, straps buckled securely to her upper arms just above her elbows held a steel bar between them. They folded her forearms together along the length of the bar with her hands to opposite elbows. Three equally spaced straps held her forearms welded together and rigidly fixed to the bar. She could wiggle her fingers and nothing more. The distressing combination of her gag, steel yoked head, and helplessly bound arms made resistance both futile and painful, so when hands grasped her ankles and each of her inner thighs just above her knees she let them pull her legs wide. Straps around each ankle held her legs apart while her knee bar was fit to her thighs above each bent knee and adjusted wider than her ankles. She spread tautly open like a geometric study figure for feminine genitalia. Flexible parabolic stainless steel bands fit in the cleft of her raised buttocks, when tightened, separated her cheeks flattening the rift between them gaping both her anus and vagina. They held her hips locked to the raised frame. The final painful addition to her misery and utter immobilisation sent agony racing through her shoulders and scalp when her hair was roped into a rough fall at the back of her head and clamped to the arm bar with her arms wrenched up above her back. The tension between the two kept her head up and her arms raised in a complementary and torturous agony that made her whine through her stifling gag. Merce considered her ready. Snapping on rubber gloves, Merce took a medicated lozenge from a small rectangular tin. He inserted the suppository in Meredith’s anus pushing it into her rectal sheath as far as his finger would reach. Meredith wriggled her

fingers and moved her feet slightly in the only objection she could offer to the rude intrusion. Her clinical exposure, steel, and leather enforced held her rigid and unmoving form draped over the apex of the frame in shameful and flagrant display. The healthy pink petals of her moist inner labia yawned open revealing the rich roseate cavern of her birth canal to a depth that seemed to stop just short of her cervix. The darker smaller opening of her anal crater began to clench and pucker in spasmodic contractions as body heat melted the suppository releasing its burning unguent in the sensitive tissue of her rectum. Meredith keened her internal distress in ineffectual protest screeching her barely heard anguish deep in her throat. She felt as if a red-hot poker had been driven into her rectum as the fiery oils she released with her own internal temperature suffused her physically and emotionally. In time, as Merce and the guards relaxed and enjoyed her increasing suffering she disposed of the burning suppository melting it entirely thereby spreading its burning effects all along her tender rectal membrane. Small amounts of clear fluid oozed from her anus as she tried unsuccessfully to eject the burning oil. It blazed on her anal rim like a caustic cautery causing her anus to gape and close in painful silent scream like desperation displaying her near readiness for Merce’s next horrible procedure. Groaning constantly behind the choke gag, tears streaming down her cheeks Meredith finally felt the numbing effects of the suppository and as soon as she did, Merce placed the blunt tip of her anal trainer at the well lubricated, but tiny opening of her dilated and swollen anus. He drove it into her with a hammer. At each blow, the dark phallus sank deeper into Meredith dilating her sphincter around its generous girth. Meredith thought the instrument would kill her. She felt as if her pelvic girdle was being spread the pain was so intense; it hurt her bones. Whatever ameliorating effects the numbing of her muscular sphincter may have had, the sheer size of the phallus defeated them as it was pounded into her. She was beyond agony, beyond help; mercy was not a consideration, and at the end, she held a huge anal trainer in her body like some intrusive foreign object inadvertently left after rectal surgery. The flat base of the phallus protruded from her anus about two centimetres its silver retention ring stood half a centimetre high at its centre. The reddened bulge of her anal ring surrounded the dark shaft like a tightly stretched rubber band slightly indenting the soft pliancy of its surface. Her waist chain and the retention chain were fixed and tightened the links crimped together permanently. Then she was released. Meredith couldn’t move at first. She simply lay slumped over the mounting rack sobbing and catching her breath. It hurt to breathe. The appliance chained in her body seemed to impinge on her lungs and its solid mass filled her back passage and abdomen like some weighty leaden anchor misplaced in her rectum. She couldn’t possibly move with it in her. They made her walk. In the smithy, Meredith finally joined the other thirteen girls she had arrived with. They were considered a single training unit although they were broken down into three groups. Two groupings of six each left Darlene and

Meredith as a pair. They would be trained, and domiciled together, but with more individual attention due to the apparent random coupling of the former executive and her secretary. There was nothing random about it. Jonathan’s unseen hand had arranged their pairing and he personally meant to give them his individual attention. That was bad in the short run, but better served in the long. Meredith had been the last, but all the women wore the tight waist chain and the sharply drawn intercrural retaining chain holding their anal trainers firmly in place. Meredith couldn’t help but notice the stout black base of the phalluses the other girls wore. She knew for a certainty hers was larger by far. What she didn’t know was that they each wore an anal trainer that was far larger psychologically than physically. The theatrical performance of Merce the merciless was more like the wizard of Oz than the medieval torturer he pretended to be. The huge phallus he always displayed in front of the girls was never used-it was much too large. He adhered strictly to the dimensions ordered by staff evaluation and all his talk about bigger sizes was mind play gauged to terrorise the women. The theatrical conceit of seating the devices with a hammer was totally unnecessary but part of the verisimilitude of his oft-repeated stage play. The soft and supple rubber trainers hurt a little more as he drove them in incrementally with the hammer, but could have just as well been put in with firm and constant pressure as well. They were not large, just slightly longer, and thicker than a normal sized penis. The last thing he wanted to do was to injure or maim the corporation’s valuable commodities. Neither Meredith nor any of the other girls knew this and each were convinced she had been elected to wear a trainer larger than the others. The look on Darlene’s face confirmed her internal distress as she looked at Meredith imploringly as if somehow Meredith could affect its removal. Meredith’s return glance shone with sheer misery proclaiming her greater anguish in the secure knowledge that her anus was stretched a good deal more painfully than Darlene’s in a bizarre interpretation of one-upmanship. Their tacit conversation ended as the bondage-smith’s men came toward them. The last of the proceeding training group had been seen to. Darlene and Meredith were brought forward to take her place. The few steps they took with the implacable phalluses rending their bowels made both women wince and groan with the inevitable motion caused by their undulating buttocks. The internal rocking motion was only faintly hinted at by the protruding black base and its retention ring moving back and forth on the tightly drawn chain cleaving them between the legs. Darlene had been present for the whole time it took to do whatever it was the smithies did with the other girls. She had seen none of it since she was pressed to the wall with her legs spread and arms raised as was now de rigueur whenever she was not being moved from one place to another or in the process of being administered to in some painful and humiliating way herself. Meredith had been too self-involved with her own agony to notice anything but her own suffering having only briefly noted two girls bent down over something in her peripheral vision before she was standing along side Darlene staring at the same out of focus wall. Their stolen

glances at each other only confirmed their mutual suffering and did nothing to alleviate it. The visual signs of their distress showed in literal telltale protrusion between their pale bottom cheeks looking like docked tails as they stood obediently arranged side by side. The obedience to position relieved the agony of walking and slightly decreased the tension of their thin waist and crotch chains, but the links still incised their yielding skin with the pattern of their hard steel shape, and the unseen riving of their vaginal lips hid part of the chain from the unseeing wall. Both women whimpered piteously, but otherwise silently pressed their breasts, bellies, and foreheads to the wall. Their arms grew tired but they both carried on not permitting their raised elbows to touch the wall as they had been ordered. The ongoing and constantly uncomfortable intrusion of their rear passages led them in turn to clench their buttocks as if that might in some small way offer relief. It didn’t. All the while the insidious and demanding conditioning of their anuses and rectums continued. In a few short weeks, they would be able to take what was offered in their heretofore very private and very narrow anal entries with only slight discomfort. They didn’t look forward to it. Their psychological and emotional conditioning paralleling physical requisites would rectify attitudes and they would be receptive in the end in all its meanings. That invidious task was at work as they stood against the wall-naked, subservient and unresisting, complying unswervingly to the order to press their nudity to its hard cool surface while quietly waiting for the next stage of their diminution in status and physical freedom. The opportunity to do otherwise was not offered. Women who were chattel property of the corporation had no rights of refusal or objection. They were there to be trained for sexual service to corporate executives and were not permitted failure under any circumstances. That idea was beginning to take shape even at this early stage in training. Neither Meredith nor Darlene offered resistance as they were brought forward to the fitting area. At first, it was like being measured for bespoke clothing. To be sure, the measurements taken were more complete and certainly of a more intimate nature. Since they were both quite naked, there was no interference in gauging the detailed dimensions of their utterly revealed intimacies. Circumferences and lengths of limbs and torsos; shape and form of breasts and buttocks; sizes and conformation of labia and nipples were taped and recorded in embarrassing detail. Although mortified at the familiar and cavalier manipulation of their intimate anatomy, neither of them dared refuse or deny the access offered by their nudity and concomitant submission to yet more demeaning and humiliating treatment at the hands of men they didn’t know. Meredith winced when her breasts were lifted by her nipples and measured for girth and resiliency. The manipulation of her nipples to stiffened tumescence so their dimensions in that embarrassing and excited state could be taken was nearly more than she could stand. Callipers placed across her generous areolae when both relaxed and pulled tautly extended by her nipples evoked squeals of meekly voiced protest from both Meredith and Darlene. But the nadir of the crushing experience, the height of their mutual humiliation was

standing in display posture without moving while they were masturbated to orgasm. “Hold your appliance in with your hands,” they were instructed when the connecting link between waist chain and the cuttingly tight crotch chain was disconnected. The silvery strand of the chain swung between their widely parted legs from the retaining ring of their anal inserts. Embarrassingly they both lowered their arms and rather delicately placed their fingers at the base of the large instruments of torture lodged deeply in their rectums. They had to thrust their hips forward slightly to reach the short protrusions thus presenting and offering their bared mons and labia in a suggestively lewd and vulnerably forward position to the men. The ratcheting click of handcuffs around their slender wrists insured their hands would remain behind denying access to that part of their bodies they would desperately want to reach in a few minutes. Meredith was sopping wet and easily admitted two fingers into her vagina and began to moan immediately as her clitoris was softly massaged by the man’s thumb. Abandoning herself to her humiliation and shameful response, she moved her hips back and forth gently riding the fingers inside her. Darlene took longer, but was soon moaning her arousal alongside Meredith with high-pitched squeals of pleasure. The fleshy nubs of their clitorises stiff and elongated emerged from their hooded modesty under the continued stimulation engorged in surrender to gentle and relentless encouragement. The men watched their faces redden, eyes half lidded riding the probing fingers of their masturbatory ecstasy in earnest, thrusting their hips forward shamelessly. Small gauges appeared, measuring the length and girth of their clitorises without Meredith or Darlene noticing so lost in sexual reverie were they. Both on the verge, breathing heavily, they involuntary began to push harder on the thick phalluses extruded between their bottom cheeks. At the last possible minute as they both were rising to the crest, the men withdrew their fingers from the dripping vaginas of both women and they rogered themselves to gasping shuddering orgasm by pushing the anal trainer in and out of their bottoms in their frantic need for release. The only possible self-stimulation available with cuffs locking their wrists behind was to work their phalluses up and down in their rectums. They had been brought much too far to be denied and in their desperate need, brought themselves to final release in the only way they could. Once committed to the desired methodology, their cuffs were unlocked and removed making their actions more humiliating in their now utterly voluntary nature. Meredith had a gut clenching drawn out orgasm sighing and moaning for the duration. She stood with legs wide knees bent pushing and pulling the black rubber phallus in and out of her anus at sea in her release oblivious to the presentation she made if front of all the men watching her as she shuddered and writhed in abandonment jerking and rotating her hips and pelvis in the groaning throes of her long orgasmic gratification. Darlene was never sure how many times she climaxed. She yipped and screeched at each as they followed one on the other in a paroxysm belly grinding shocks that made her knees tremble while she continued working her anal trainer in and out triggering her series of orgasms

with each deep hurtful thrust. She gave herself a foretaste of the pleasure she could gain from her own pain. It hurt so good and went on for such a long time she thought she might collapse in thigh clenching anguish and embarrassment to the floor. Unlike Meredith, she kept her eyes open. All the men had their eyes turned her way ignoring the softly grinding Meredith in the diminuendo of her groaning orgasm while Darlene had turned her high heeled feet out, bent her knees to widen her thighs gratuitously while thrusting her hips forward at each deep plunge of her anal trainer. Her gyrating posture was utterly abandoned and the exhibitionist aspect of her stance and conduct as she brought herself to climax again and again while being watched seemed to add to the intensity. Her usually demure demeanour ripped from her with her clothing permitted the wanton disregard of her former inhibitions and she uncontrollably demonstrated a latent sexual response even she was unaware of. Like an erotic dancer, Darlene leaned back with her hands cupping her buttocks working the thick phallus up and down between her clenched cheeks. Her breasts wobbled gently as she twisted and bucked her hips. The widely stretched pale softness of her inner thighs stood in corded tension hollowing the adjacent area adding relief to her openly displayed sex. The erect nearly tongue like shape of her clitoris stood rigidly displayed and she seemed to be trying to lick the air with it as she moved her hips in continuously jerking motions as waves of orgasmic shocks washed her spasmodically clenching uterus. Her little screams of pain and pleasure dwindled, became further apart, and with trembling knees while still jerking convulsively at each aftershock of her draining orgasms, she shook her knees in and out rapidly in indication of the intense nature of her sexual experience and exhibition. With a drawn out sighing ‘Oooooh’ Darlene appeared to become aware of her licentious pose and wanton display. Like a debauched woman embarrassed by her own conduct, she closed in on herself crouching over with her legs together covering her mons with one hand, but at the same time keeping the other behind her to hold the black phallus from slipping from her rectum. In near shock and total amazement at what she had been brought to do in front of all the men who had watched her with undisguised interest she stared at the floor in the futile hope she would sink through it and out of sight. A gentle hand under her chin and a soft admonishment to correct her posture brought her head up and, shaking her blond hair back, Darlene raised her arms and spread her legs. Before her trainer could slip out, the retention chain was drawn up between her legs and reattached to her waist chain. Meredith and Darlene stood side by side once more basking in a more than peculiar afterglow. The room seemed warm and the denial of what had just happened was ineffectual though it seemed hardly credible that they had reached orgasm in the public and shameful manner just experienced. They weren’t given time to fabricate rationales-their sexual response had been quantified just as their physical dimensions had been. All the figures were inscribed on their fitness charts under the rubrics: Subject 20, Subject 21.

When the measuring was done, fitting began. It took some time since the restraints and garments prescribed for those newly in training were as complex and complete as had been the measurements taken for them. “These two get the heavy stuff, but no jewellery.” “Yeah, yeah, I know. I wonder why.” “Dunno. That’s how Jonathan wants ‘em.” Meredith had no idea what the ‘heavy stuff’ or ‘jewellery’ was but she shivered in a confusion of emotions knowing Jonathan had singled her out for special treatment. She didn’t know if that was good or bad, but the sheer invocation of his name sent a pleasurable quiver of terror rippling through her body. That Darlene was included seemed not to matter since Meredith still considered her a lesser adjunct to her still held notions of self-importance. The ostensible levelling of their status so manifest in their treatment and servile conduct had yet to be fully inculcated in the aristocratic and arrogant Meredith. Her grounds for arrogance were washing away between her widely spread legs and her equally denuded pubes as she stood in the same subservient display posture as Darlene. Their breasts rose and fell in quite democratically displayed exposure while the ‘heavy stuff’ was strewn in orderly fashion on the workbench before them. First came the corseting. The solid clunk the tiny garments made when they were dropped on the wooden bench gave the first clue to the severe nature of the innocuous looking garments. They looked dainty and feminine, but the well-tailored waist constrictors concealed the inner steel busked and steel stayed construction that gave the corsets their rigidity and hence forced stiffly correct and unnatural posture on those who wore them. Darlene and Meredith were about to assume that correct posture. The fitting room of the smithy complex was adjacent to the actual workshop. Through that open door wafted the smell of fresh oil and the sounds of humming machinery. More than half a dozen men were employed and kept quite busy in the manufacture of specialist equipment and devices employed in the restraint and training of the young women assigned to the training annex. Work had stopped momentarily during the wanton display Meredith and Darlene had involuntarily made some minutes earlier. The doorway had been crowded with their peering countenances. They all but applauded when the two reluctant performers ceased their dramatic dance of sensuality. They usually didn’t pay much attention to the girls who were routinely brought to orgasm for the recording of clitoral extension and sexual responsiveness. Occasionally, they might look up at the sound of a particularly piercing shriek or wail from one of the as many as six girls at a time writhing in the self-gratification they were embarrassingly led to perform. The men who fitted and took measurements of all the newly admitted women had perfected the technique of bringing them to the exact state of arousal that was needed to push them over the edge. They’d only had one defiant failure in a year. Turned out she was a lesbian and they sold her to an Arab slave trader.

The strident and extended orgasms induced in the women who now stood ready for corseting had got their attention however. There hadn’t been wanton howlers like these two in some months, and two at once was more than unusual. They had been well rewarded for their attention. They returned to work while Meredith and Darlene stood ready in the next room for corseting. Now facing the long workbench against one of the walls, they were both able to study the equipment and tools, the accoutrements, and paraphernalia scattered and fixed on its surface and on the wall behind. It was a strange and mixed collection of eclecticism. The dainty corsets seemed out of place beneath large metal spools of various sized chains from jewellery chains to huge heavy links suitable for anchoring large boats. A chain cutter bolted to the floor stood in stationary elephantine massiveness beneath an assortment of delicate tools for working jewellery chains. Gyves, manacles, collars, belts, and shackles fashioned in aluminium, steel and iron as well as other bondage equipment of leather and steel in various combinations and configurations were arranged in neatly sized order on and behind the bench. Dozens of small brass padlocks, graduated by size, hung by their silvery hasps from wooden rods projecting from the wall over the bench. In reluctant but dutiful display posture Meredith and Darlene gazed in apprehensive awe at the myriad restraints; some terrifying, others beautiful, all expertly designed and well crafted by the smithies employed at the training annex. In their fearfully curious perusal of the dreadful looking restraints neither noticed the pad eye neatly folded flush with the floor between their widely placed high heels. The overhead chain block and the steel rod with sturdy buckling leather cuffs at each end escaped notice too. The first awareness of those unobserved implements of preparatory restraint were made known by the appearance of a hinged wooden plank with two moderately small holes set closely together at its centre. “Close your legs.” With growing trepidation, Meredith and Darlene jerkily move their feet together. Without the use of their arms for balance, the action required they shift their weight from one leg to the other swaying their breasts back and forth as they awkwardly came to attention before the men who held the twin holed planks at the ready. They looked like twin marble glories rising from a posture of wide legged subservience to stand straight and tall, elegant and resplendent on the shapely stems of their tautened legs attractively formed and well-disciplined by their high heels. The relatively modest stance revealed the smoothness of their clean-shaven pubic bulges in demure high relief with the fleshy moue of their labial clefts presented in promise more than in gynaecological flagrancy. Darlene’s full outer lips retreated between her thighs in soft compression hinting at the depth and length of her vaginal slit. Meredith’s inner lips peeked coyly between her labia majora in roselike twin petalled blooms their moist inflorescence beautifully standing watch at her sex portal. Although their posture was less revealing they still stood respectfully presenting their breasts out-thrust and uplifted by their raised arms in prominent bared fullness on their expanded chests. Darlene’s relatively large

firm breasts seemed to leap from her chest in pointed protrusions their shapely nipple tipped form stabbing the air with arrogant and lavish exuberance. Meredith’s raised arms, stringently braced back elbows, and tightly laced fingers at the back of her neck thrust her ponderous, somewhat smaller, breasts forward in soft shapely presentation accenting the large dark areola and thick lengthy nipples at their centre like dusky garnish offered on bulging white platters of quivering aspic. Her slightly taller stature and dark hair both complemented and contrasted with Darlene’s fair beauty and mane of blond hair. In their twinned posture of self-imposed discipline and obedience to the demands of their minders; in fearful anticipation of what unknown agony awaited on the bench before them, Darlene and Meredith stood in naked subservience for corseting. They both teetered nervously as the men knelt and captured their ankles in the sturdy wooden stocks. The clack of the hinged halves clapping together and the sharp snap of the locking bolts shot home were simply the aural announcement of the too tight pressure on their slim ankles. As long as they stood perfectly still the, barely padded ankle openings were merely tight, but the slightest movement caused breathtaking pain and hissing hurriedness to stand straight and still. Even looking down put stress on their ankles so they both peered ahead as the metallic sounds of the pad eye being lifted and the attachment of a foot long chain between the stocks and steel ring in the floor rattled between their closely held ankles. “Lower your arms; hold your hands out front.” It was an order, not a request. No resistance was expected and none offered, but the clank of the chain block above them made them aware of its presence for the first time. Looking up as the cuffed bar descended on its heavy chain they stood in dread watching in stiff legged helplessness while it lowered in slow menace before them. Its purpose obvious, Meredith simply placed her wrists in the open cuffs. Darlene didn’t, so the men did it for her. In both cases the result was the same and with their wrists held in tightly cuffed helplessness at each end of the two foot long bar, the triple tongued brass buckles held them in inescapable restraint and mounting terror as their arms were drawn up by the clanking block. “Stretch ‘em up good and tight. Jonathan wants ‘em cinched down hard. He wants ‘em to feel it.” “Oh they’ll feel it all right.” The chain grew taut above their fully raised arms and began to lift them from the floor. The weight of their bodies suspended by their wrists hurt and the conversation added little solace to their rising misery or nakedness. When the chain between their captive ankles drew tight and the block continued to rattle, first groans, then shrieks then sobbing pleas to stop were wrenched from the women. Their arms and legs seemed about to be wrenched from their bodies as well. The shock of pain from the taut stretch of their bodies rendered them helpless to even scream. Hands moulding their shoulders and arms, bellies and thighs felt the tremble of pain they suffered and each were given another quarter turn bringing their excruciation to it limits. Meredith

felt as if she had a throbbing headache the whole length of her body. She threw her head back between her upraised arms and with her hair trailing down her bare back shrieked at the ceiling in great gulping wails of agony. She was drawn so tightly between her wrists and ankles that her choking convulsing sobs didn’t move any part of her taut nakedness but her stomach and diaphragm. It was a peculiar mix of movement and stillness reflecting both the tautly drawn immobility of her naked pain and her sharply spasmodic muscular reaction to it. Darlene couldn’t intellectualise what they were doing to her, but for the first time, she knew they were really hurting her. Her arms felt as if they were about to pop out from her shoulders. Her hipbones stood out against her flattened abdomen as if trying to escape her pain racked body. Her wrists and ankles were held unbearably tight and hurt nearly as much as all the taut white flesh between them. They were torturing her. She peered down between her breasts at the floor that seemed far beneath her. In a repetitive and plangent whimper she dealt with her torment as best she could, trying to stand beside herself as witness rather than participant in her agony. Physically, she couldn’t stand it, they were killing her, therefore, she mentally divorced herself from it as the only defence she could offer. The taut white bodies of the women were now ready for corseting. The tightly drawn waists and abdomens, the sharply elevated and defined lift of their rib cages presented the two women for corseting in the necessary conformation of mind and body required. They hardly noticed the lace edged garment fitted around their waists. So occupied with the racking torment holding them radically elongated at waist and belly while the corsets were fit, they didn’t really feel its unusual weight for its size or the inordinate stiffness with which it encircled their diminished waists. Darlene watched the stiff tongue of the corset rising between her breasts. Its lace trimmed edging all but concealed a small U-shaped steel staple at its top. The only part of the corset that rose to her breasts was that narrow projecting strip between them. Otherwise, it was cut well below in two large semicircular scallops that left her breasts entirely bare and exposed and without the support one might expect in a normal corset. Clearly, these were not conventional corsets. “Get her hair out of the way, would you?” Meredith moaned when her head was pushed forward. The slightest movement in her tensioned agony sparked new pain and torment to flash up and down her bowstring stretched nakedness. They stuffed her dark hair between her cheek and right arm letting it fall toward her right breast. She looked down at her breasts and the lacy stiff strip laying between them in languishing disinterest. She was being hurt too much to observe anything but her body wrenching torture. She was only dimly aware of the tightening corset and the light play of fingers down her spine as the laces were yanked tight. Each little pull each slight disturbance of absolute motionless sent shrieks of pain racing through her arms and shoulders, hips and knees on the verge of being pulled apart. Her sobs approached hysteria as the corset grew tighter and tighter until they seemed finally to be done. When she saw one of the

men stepping behind her with a T-handled steel tool, she knew it would offer no relief. She groaned in earnest as the lace tightening tool brought the corset to meet in its smallest possible dimension down her back. Breathily she whispered, “Please don’t. It’s too tight. I can’t breathe.” She shook her head in a panic as her lungs were compressed to a smaller than normal capacity by the clamp like compression of her diaphragm and waist. Her eyes wide with fright, Meredith took shallow rapid breaths to get any air into her lungs at all. Darlene was whimpering weakly next to her. “No more! No more! I give up. I give up. I can’t stand it.” Her whispered entreaties sprung from the desperation of trying to gain her breath against the vice grip of her corset. There was a tinge of madness in her soft spoken pleas as if by offering her surrender it would make them stop. The annex didn’t take prisoners in any conventional sense and Darlene’s corset was pulled closed in the back. Her eyes nearly bulged from her head as much in surprise that she could breathe at all as from the wide black swathe of constrictive agony nearly cutting her in two. Her fair white skin bulged above and below in testament to its restrictive girth. The contrast of black nylon and lace with her paleness looked nice; or so thought the men who had just laced her in. Chain rattled through the blocks easing the tensioned strain on both women lowering them until they could just touch the floor with their toes. The mitigation of their taut stretching hurt as badly as their racking suspension had. Now able to support some of their weight on their toes they nevertheless had to flex their aching thighs and calves in knotted hardness to maintain the position offering relief while adding new distress to their trembling legs. They rested in this comfortable position for some moments before being permitted to stand on their own. There was no escape from pain, just relocation as their heels were permitted to touch and they again bore their weight completely on their feet and legs. The effectiveness of their corseting now became apparent to Meredith and Darlene as well to as those watching them. The men knew what to expect-Meredith and Darlene didn’t. Their first hand experience informed them. Gravity had become their new torturer. The distressful stop on the way down was simply a painful lull to prepare them for the shock of standing fully corseted. Expecting the dissolution of their anguish, it was merely reallocated, perhaps more intensely, because of the now extensive and prolonged suffering they would have to endure until the torturous garments were removed. As their bodies attempted to resettle in familiar patterns and assume prior dimensions, the corsets arrested them. Breathing came no easier, perhaps more difficult. The vice like grip of the tautly drawn nylon and steel encased them in its rigid stiffness as if it were made of entirely of steel. The rigid busk extended from between their breasts to their navels in unbending rigidity. The malleable steel stays moulded by the tightly drawn corsets were nearly as unyielding as the solid busks. They could not diminish the arch it forced in their backs, they could not relax the stiffly upright posture it made them maintain, and the only bending they would be able do would be

from the hips. Their hips stood out ledge like under the constrictive carapaces, their bellies bulging beneath in rounded protrusion as if they were in the early stages of pregnancy, and their buttocks jutted in distorted exaggeration beneath the acute arch in the small of their backs. The stately posture steadfastly demanded by their adamantine corseting held their breasts in permanently uplifted and brazen exhibition high and proud on their expanded chests. The jut and thrust of their breasts seemed to counterbalance the rearward presentation made by their protuberant bottom cheeks. From all angles, Darlene and Meredith looked to be erotic caricatures of imagined Victoriana standing naked and helpless in doll like poses of bound beauty ankles locked together in stocks and arms raised with their wrists leather wrapped in high held exhibition of both their beauty and helplessness. The look of sheer misery in their eyes and the downward cast of their mouths expressed their despair at such a representation. Now they stood ready to be bound. The ‘heavy stuff’ lay coiled rattlesnake ready on the workbench. “Right you are then my beauties, nicely corseted and standing properly corrected-posture perfect-we’ll just add the last bits here and you can get on with your training. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” The answer came in deeply despairing looks from the pain-hazed eyes of both girls. Meredith began to sag in her bondage, but as she bent one knee inward in weary defeat she quickly stood erect as the stocks bit into her ankle in demand she stand straight. “You two are coming right along. Shouldn’t have any problem training you lot. Yes, you’ll do very well indeed once you learn the necessaries. No trouble with the little plugs in your bums I trust. Now you see what they’re for and what they can do. Yes indeed, you learned that lesson well. That’s to your credit.” The grizzled bondage-smith taking charge now that they were corseted prattled away, talking inanities as he unbuckled and unstrapped their wrists and knelt at their feet drawing back the locking bolts unhinging and removing their ankle stocks. He worked quickly and expertly, he’d already done the dozen before them, and with the aid of only one other apprentice, he had sent them down for training as he soon would do with these two. Meredith felt little relief when her wrists and ankles were freed. Her corset seemed tighter yet with her arms lowered. Rubbing her wrists trying to erase the deep marks left by the wrist cuffs she had to look down stiffly in the erect posture forced by her corset. She put her hands to her waist wrapping her arms about its diminished size in astonishment as if she were feeling someone other than herself. The pained look on her face turned to frustration as she continued to struggle with her breathing and found she couldn’t look down at herself. Her insides were squeezed or rearranged making her queasy and reluctant to move while she continued to feel the hardness of the remorselessly stiff binding pinching her middle in breathtaking constriction. The relationship between the supple garment she had seen lying on the workbench earlier and the gruesomely drawn rigidity around her waist seemed to Meredith an impossible one. Without a mirror, she looked over at Darlene’s

distorted figure shocked to see how excruciatingly small her waist had become. The look was freakish and even more depressing since she knew she must look equally misshapen. Darlene glanced over, the look in her eyes revealing the shock of seeing Meredith’s figure rearranged as it was. Even with the expression of distress in her eyes, and the sorrowful tremble and downturn of her lower lip Meredith’s aristocratic beauty was not effaced. She looked like an upper-class jeune fille de la maison in the foundation garment she might wear beneath a ball gown in obedience to fashion dictates as harsh as they were mandatory. Darlene looked like her French maid, or a parody of French maids in the imagination of Englishmen. The addition of mesh hose, a short satin-skirted uniform with white apron worn while serving was not difficult to imagine. Darlene’s youthful and exuberant figure grossly exaggerated and enhanced by her wasp-waisted suffering, her pale complexion and flaxen hair lent itself to that interpretation. In Meredith’s eyes, Darlene was her servant no matter the circumstances. The anxiety etched on her pretty face and the thick black phallus chained between her jutting bottom cheeks only slightly detracted from the image. The metallic rattle and clink of equipment on the bench drew their attention. “Ladies unless you would like to feel the crop, I suggest you assume the proper attitude. You’ve been here long enough not to have to be told. I shouldn’t like to bring you up before Jonathan. You wouldn’t like that now would you?” he asked rhetorically. Meredith spread her legs and raised her arms placing herself in proper presentation. She wondered if she would like it or not. If he would divest her of the torturous garment she wore it might not be so bad. The mere act of spreading her legs wide and raising her arms was made difficult by her corset. The unendurable reduction of her waist and the concomitant rearrangement of her hips and buttocks, breasts and belly made larger in contrast and the self-conscious display forced by the unbending grip of the corset holding her stiffly erect-nothing could be worse than this she thought. The bondage-smith and his apprentice busied themselves with Darlene first. Meredith studied the terrible beauty of the restraints on the table for some moments, but when she heard Darlene begin to whimper and groan next to her, she turned her head. The bondage-smith was standing alongside Darlene blocking her from view, but the apprentice on the other side caught her eyes. With a feline motion the young man circled from around Darlene and Meredith felt a line of fire drawn high across her buttocks. “You look straight ahead. Don’t move and don’t speak.” Meredith gasped from the shock and sting of the crop desperately wanting to lower her hands and rub away the pain. She remained still and unmoving while a thin red line bloomed just below the sacral dimples under the arch of her back and her coccyx. How could it hurt so much she wondered, her corset jutted buttocks clenched and she could feel the fire just at the apex of her rear cleavage. The thin stripe of pain burned all the more fiercely for its location and the futile attempt to avoid it by clenching her rear

cheeks simply reminded her that her anus was widely dilated around a thick phallus chained in deep penetration of her rectum. That hurt too. Her mind wandered in trying to escape the pain. She avoided looking at the shackles and chains coiled on the bench. With unfocused tear blurred vision she tried to understand how she had come to be where and how she was. She tried to make connections, devise metaphors, apply logic and reason to her situation, none made any sense. Her reality based existence had vanished; replaced with a stronger reality of physical and mental restraint that demanded she stand naked with her legs spread open and her arms raised with her fingers intertwined behind her neck. Meredith Montgomery executive vice president wearing a grimly tight corset with a black rubber phallus lodged in her fundament made not the slightest sense. All had been lost much earlier, but she wasn’t sure when. By the time she had walked into the boardroom not forty-eight hours earlier, self-confident and self-assured, smartly dressed, stylishly coifed and made up; the machinations of her corporate demise had been set in place for some time. Probably at the time of her hire, she mused. Signing the indenture agreement in her youthful exuberance at landing such a plum of a job she had carelessly neglected to read it and only now understood its consequences. She hadn’t been given a great deal of time to think about it since the security men had taken her arms and begun the actual horror of enforcement. Why hadn’t she struggled and fought them she wondered. Would it have done any good? Probably not. What if she hadn’t knelt on the rug for her humiliating dismissal ritual? She remembered the steel cuffs cutting her wrists and how they had forced her down. It was already much too late by then. If she had known what they were going to do, would she have struggled anyway? That initial horror and her bound and nude delivery to the training annex with a belly full of their semen certainly had a debilitating influence on her bruised psyche. She seemed now to be standing on some edge between who she had been and who she was becoming. It was hard to stand on an edge with your legs spread open. Perhaps she was straddling it and the taut chain delving into her vagina was the edge. It was hard for her to know, but she could only see one way down and it was on the side of additional suffering and additional becoming-becoming what they wanted her to be. Her education, the remedial training had begun when, dressed as a schoolgirl, her discipline and punishment master had publicly caned her for insubordination. It was a curious earning of stripes for a woman of her age and experience, but it had absolutely adjusted her attitude and she felt a strange ambivalence toward the dark giant who now ruled her life. Was it for him she stood here? Certainly not, but it was a better explanation than the troubling and disturbing notion she had to keep pushing away. They were forcing her into a role and status she thought appropriate but could never assume on her own. They relieved her of the responsibility and permitted her to accept without guilt or shame a realisation and fulfilment of her femininity she couldn’t admit to herself much less anyone else. She wanted to be dominated, she wanted to feel the gain of

genuine femaleness through pain, and she wanted to serve the opposite, and even her own sex, on her knees. Some vice president she smirked to herself before shoving the idea aside with a shudder of revulsion. It was time to be put in stringent bondage once more. Meredith sighed in reluctant acceptance as the bondage-smith and his apprentice retrieved the first of her restrictive shackles from the bench. “Now we can get you nice and comfortably arranged and off you go for training. These should help you walk in a very ladylike way. Proper posture looks better when you take dainty little steps. We’ll have some special shoes for you once you master walking with these on. Make you very tall and elegant they will. Show off that beautifully corseted figure of yours very well indeed.” While he chattered away, he and his apprentice fitted heavy steel shackles to Meredith’s thighs and ankles. She couldn’t look down in her strictly held posture and wanted to look at Darlene as much for support as to share her misery. She wanted to see what they had done to her as well since she was no doubt being shackled and chained in a similar if not identical fashion. She didn’t dare. The crimson slash across her bottom still throbbed and stung, so she held quite still while her legs were shackled. When she wore four of the heavy devices, she could feel their weight around each ankle and thigh. They were cold as well as heavy. Those around her ankles were snug; the ones circling her thighs were tight. She couldn’t see how they would impair her walking since her legs were spread quite widely and she neither saw any chains nor heard their clink as she had when she had been leg-ironed before. Those brutal steel instruments had certainly impaired her walking. Meredith thought perhaps just the mere weight would make her take small steps-help her to walk-as the bondage-smith had put it, they were certainly heavy enough just standing there. “Bring your legs together.” She couldn’t bend her knees. In order to draw her legs together she had to sway from side to side in stiff-legged awkwardness rising and drawing one leg in at a time. Meredith understood the first aspect of the crippling devices she wore. Since the steel bands were tightly impressed into the yielding flesh of her thighs just above her knees, they also impinged on her hamstrings preventing her knees from bending under their strictly drawn compression. She felt the weight of four padlocks she had seen earlier when the apprentice had handed them to the bondage-smith. The four consecutive clicks she had heard and felt at each of her shackles pronounced them irremovable and now she could feel the heavy brass locks dangling from their thick hasps at the back of her knees and the outside of her ankles. They seemed bigger and heavier than necessary. Meredith’s breasts had just come to rest from the jerking motions she made in bringing her legs together when the bondage-smith prescribed the next stage of her restraint. “Eight links each between her ankle shackles and the connecting ring. Then measure again for the raising chain. It has to be just right, too long and it drags; too short and it hobbles her more than wanted. We want her to carry

all the weight while still being able to strut right along. When she gets used to these; they’ll put her in six-inchers. Then she’ll strut tall and proud she will, tall and proud indeed. You’ve never seen one of ‘em all decked out and movin’ along, ‘ave you. Ah, that’s when their at their best. Beautiful they are, drippin’ and droolin’ from their gags or from havin’ been freshly serviced in trainin’-completely under control they are and they know it they do. You’ll see ‘em in time, and it’s what we do here that makes the difference, so measure twice and cut once, this is important work we’re doin’. Important work indeed. Chin up little lady we’ll soon ‘ave you properly kitted out.” The little lady raised her chin dutifully, thinking she had been ordered to. The bondage-smith noted her reaction. “Anxious for training to begin then. That’s the proper spirit my gel. You’ll do well here. Jonathan will see to it you can wager. Very well indeed.” Meredith swallowed hard. She thought she could still taste Jonathan. She imagined her saliva to be his semen, then shook her head in disbelief at her own imaginings. “Give us your arms then dear: we’ll get you sorted out,” he was holding a pair of large unusually configured manacles while the apprentice fumbled between her ankles and her tightly clamped thigh bands adding the unseen weight of chains to her leg shackles. Meredith lowered her arms and held her hands forward, keeping her head tilted back in dread of looking down to watch her wrists being manacled. She looked like a little girl wincing and daring not to look at some distasteful and potentially pain laden medical procedure, like bloodletting took place. On the verge of tears, she felt a heavy steel band as wide as a man’s hand grip one wrist and then the other. Meredith had to draw her elbows together because the wide cuffs were not connected by a chain, but solidly held together by a short hexagonal bolt. When the old fashioned barrel-bolts on the back of her wide wrist manacles were twisted down with a special tool, the tightened bands made her hold her forearms together with her bent elbows nearly touching at the pit of her stomach. The slight freedom of twisting motion between the vambrace like handcuffs was removed when the connecting hex-bolt was turned tight holding her wrists and forearms together in parallel immobilisation. The position of her arms held in the unforgiving grip of the steel manacles forced her upper arms together plumping her breasts up and together in further ostentation. Growing restive and with the expression on her patrician features changing from worried concern to lip biting fright as her contorted nudity felt the growing weight and restrictiveness of yet more severe bondage, Meredith forced herself to look down as she felt the bondage-smith slip steel rings over her thumbs. She watched in fascinated horror as her thumbs were fastened back with small silvery chains to the bolt between her wrists. She looked to be holding a brace of duelling pistols cocked with thumb shaped hammers. Every time she endured more severe and debilitating bondage, surely the ultimate she thought, it soon became the penultimate as even more obdurate and restrictive devices were added in yet more severe and stringent physical control of what had been her body, but was now only an attractive commodity owned by the corporation. The

bondage-smith rolled her fingers into the palms of her hands and slipped leather pouches over them. They fastened over the back of her hands and on the palm side under her wrists to the manacles with a tiny post and pin mechanism. Meredith hadn’t noticed the small posts on the weighty manacles, but with the brass eyelet of the abbreviated mitts pinned in place, she could see she wouldn’t be able to remove them short of chewing them off. As if in anticipation of that attempt, the smith pulled a small strap on the palm side of her hands tight, moulding the supple leather to her clenched fingers and the back of her hands skin tight. Leaving no purchase for her teeth; she would have to lick them off. Not even a remote possibility as it turned out. All that remained visible of her hands were her chained back thumbs, her tightly held fists securely encased in leather were of no use to her except as a display of her utter helplessness. And the bondage-smith was not yet done with her. The chain block above her rattled to hair-raising life again. Meredith cringed under the descending wrist bar in sheer terror of being torturously stretched up again. “Not to worra little lady, just gonna help you stand properly for a little more enhancement of that great figure. Just a little more corsetry so to speak.” When the bar descended level with her breasts, the bondage-smith detached the bar and clipped her wrist manacles to the chain. Meredith whimpered in fright not knowing if she could rely on his word. He retrieved a steel ring from the bench and, opening it in half circles, placed it around her neck. He worked intimately close to the trembling Meredith moving her hair off her neck and closing the ring around it. She watched his concentration, the set of his mouth, the focus of his eyes on the ring when he turned the locking mechanism forward and the relaxed look of satisfaction when the lock snapped shut at her throat. He had chucked her under the chin as if he were dressing a child and Meredith tilted her head back responding as a child might as he fastened and locked her neck ring in place. He had a kindly face she decided; he could have been her sweet old uncle but for the non-avuncular activity of putting her in chains and shackles. “All right lad let’s get her roped over-just like the other-I’ll tell you when.” The other, of course, had been Darlene, but in her reverie and under strict instructions to look ahead, Meredith had not seen Darlene being administered to in spite of standing less than six feet away and vaguely hearing the men talk and Darlene whimper at her side. The apprentice retrieved a coiled length of nylon line from the bench and knotted one end to the loop like ring formed in the front of Meredith’s collar ring. He let it drop between her arms to plop on the floor at her feet. Meredith’s distraught excitement glistened in her dark eyes as she tried to look down when the apprentice knelt beneath her line of vision. She heard the pad eye click up between her feet, and felt the rope between her breasts, over her corseted belly, and bare abdomen drawn vibrating through the pad eye. When she began to feel the rope pull at the ring around her neck, he stopped.

“All ready then?” asked the bondage-smith stepping along side the distressed Meredith. She stood stock still, the weight of the chains between her shackled legs seemed to anchor her to the spot in whatever bizarre configuration they had been arranged in. They felt nothing like the leg-irons they had put her in earlier. Her eyes darted to the side where the bondage-smith stood and when she felt his warm rough hand gently caress her corset jutted bottom cheek. In trying to evade his touch she started and with her legs in the double steel hobbles struggled to bend her knee only to be reminded by the tight strictures above her knees that she couldn’t. “Now now just relax little lady. I want you to lean forward for us. I won’t let you fall.” While he spoke he reached up and pulled the chain through the block letting her arms down slightly while, at the same time, the apprentice pulled up on the rope threaded through the pad eye between her feet applying pressure to the back of her neck by the neck ring. For a moment, Meredith stood in the erect posture force by her corset, legs stiff, and straight in obedience to her shackles her forearms held alongside each other with her elbows held in toward her flattened stomach. She looked like a beautiful supplicant holding her arms out in a propitiating gesture toward some deity begging for mercy in the moments before her bound sacrifice. Mercy was not in the offing. Then slowly answering the pull at the back of her neck, she leaned forward. Unable to bend at the waist due to the rigidity of her corset she hinged her torso forward from the hips. Since she couldn’t lower her arms held up by the chain at her manacles, her wrists rose above her bowing head and her upper arms began to cradle her head on each side. All the while she slowly tilted forward the bondage-smith gently stroked her bare cheeked bottom as she involuntarily offered her buttocks in broadening distension to the view of the apprentice pulling her down from behind. Meredith whimpered in her ongoing humiliation and helplessness as she felt the partition between her broad cheeks opening in ignominious display of the thick black phallus she held chained in her anus. Her chain cleaved vulva began to appear with the plump outer labia parting to reveal the chain held in a tenacious kiss between flaccid and pinkly glowing labia minora glistening with the dewy wetness of unsolicited sexual excitement. The darkly held secret, concealed from Meredith herself, began to appear in dread regularity as Meredith became aroused at her own helplessness and coerced exhibitionism each time she was forced to endure it. Those deeply buried desires were emerging once more while she leaned forward with her breasts beginning to sway out from her chest. As a demulcent for her anxiety and the fear of what unknown distress she might be about to suffer at the hands of the men controlling and literally bending her to their will, the bondage-smith cupped one of her breasts stroking and fondling it, hefting and gently stroking its changing shape as she approached the horizontal with her strictly corseted torso. Meredith unsuccessfully tried to move her legs apart, partially for balance and partially to avoid the fingers stroking her breast from its base to the conical tip. As her breasts began to hand pendulously from her chest assuming an increasingly

coniform shape his fingers stroked and manipulated her alabaster mammaries in a milking motion as if trying to express milk. Lightly grasping the dusky surround of her large areolae he pulled down slipping his fingers to her stiffening nipples in a repeated eroticism that encouraged Meredith’s nipples to elongate and become achingly swollen until she leaned forward slightly head down with her breasts hanging from her chest and her manacled hands above her bowed head. Her head bracketed by her upper arms, for the first time she could see her legs and knew why she couldn’t spread them apart. Adequately positioned for her supplementary corseting Meredith stood with her legs quite straight, knees locked, offering her buttocks in helpless display by her acutely bent posture. Her breasts hung udder like from her chest and her now raised hands and bowed head held in her in another pose of presentation as if kowtowing to the unmerciful god to which she was to be sacrificed. She was the same supplicant bowing in resigned surrender to her inner desires as well as to an unmerciful lord about to accept her submission to his terrible demands. Left to entertain herself for some time while the bondage-smith and his apprentice saw to the adjustment and preparation of equipment for the further subordination of her mind and body to the discipline of strict corseting, Meredith studied the pattern of heavy chains linking the shackles around her ankles and thighs. Her elegant if obeisant position gave her opportunity while the men’s preoccupation gave her time to stare forlornly at her stringent hobbles. She saw clearly, how she would carry all their weight; she wasn’t too sure how she would be able to walk, much less with the dainty ladylike steps that had been mentioned earlier. She would be given lessons along with Darlene in a quickly approaching future when they were moved into the training room. It was to be the first of many hard lessons lurking in the dark corners of a dismal future. They would learn well no matter how reluctantly. Meredith counted the links between the steel circles locked to her ankles and the large connecting ring to which they attached. Eight. Eight on each heavy shackle raised above her ankles to prevent their swirling and snaking on the floor as she walked. A similar arrangement dangled between her knees suspended from the tightened bands around her thighs. She now could see as well as feel how they constricted her flesh indenting and clamping it in locked and inescapable inflexibility bulging above and below the heavy massive steel in pale soft contrast to the dark hardness of the shackles. It was no wonder she couldn’t bend her knees she thought as she continued to demonstrate their effectiveness by remaining leaned forward from the hips with her legs locked straight and stiffly held by her fetters. She felt the heavy padlocks resting on the taut popliteal area at the back of her knees in perpetual reminder of their irremovability. There were fewer links of the heavy chain between her hobbled thighs. They hung in a short V-shape to the large connecting ring and the descending chain between her legs that held her ankle chain off the floor. The shackles were heavy in and of themselves, but the additional weight of the chains between them was oppressive. Meredith shifted her weight from one leg to the other as if impatient to be getting on with it. She sighed audibly

growing weary of her bound posture and the strain on her legs imposed by their immobilisation and the weight she was forced to bear between them. Why did the chains have to be so big and heavy she wondered. Wonderment turned to awe when the men fit her breasts into a figure-eight contraption beneath her chest. “Pull it up snug to her chest make sure she fits in it evenly all round by pulling her down through it. Stretch her up and down and to both sides until you can feel her all the way in and then just hold it there.” Working at each side the two men manipulated and manhandled Meredith’s breasts as if she were livestock until her breasts drooped through the twin bands of a flexible breast harness with it firmly pressed to her chest and the base of her breasts well inside the slightly snug bands. She tried to rise, but the rope from her collar tied to the pad eye between her feet kept her bent forward. She danced on her toes in futile protest shaking her head against the crude and mortifying handling of her breasts making little mewling noises of distress as the two men fit the malleable stainless steel breast harness firmly in place. Standing at her side, they worked only by feel as if ministering to a dumb animal, which Meredith resembled in her bound helplessness. Pulling and stretching her pendulous breasts coaxing their plump roundness through the matching rings while talking over her back, she surrendered her breasts to their expertise in mounting humiliation and continued helplessness. “Let’s just see if you got it right”, the bondage-smith intoned with a voice of experience. He reached under Meredith’s chest feeling around the ring his apprentice held to her chest fingering the slight bulge in her breast where it exuded in fleshy plumpness beneath the ring. He did the same to her breast on his side gauging the protrusion of both breasts then stroked them in turn gently urging them as far into the rings as they would fit. Finally, he gripped the areola and nipple of each in turn and while turning a knurled knob on each band stretched Meredith’s breasts down by using her nipples like drawer pulls to elongate them while the bands tightened around her breasts enough not to slip off. “That’s it then. Let’s fix her arms properly and stand her up for adjustment.” Meredith tried to move her shoulders back; she tried to move her shoulders from side to side. She couldn’t make the steel rings on her breasts fall off. They clung tenaciously making her breasts bulge beneath her chest. While she moaned weakly, frustrated by the tightened steel bands, a hand at the back of her head pushed her head down further between her upraised arms. She could see the thin wide steel compressing her breasts into misshapen globes that quivered and swayed slightly like fleshy baubles from her chest. They lifted her hair off her neck parting it and letting it fall between her arms and head. Her manacled wrists were pulled back behind her head, and after some fumbling at the nape of her neck the added tension on her arms remained when they released them. The pressure on her throat was not choking, but she knew her arms were held up by some connection between her

manacled wrists and the back of the steel ring around her neck. The rope holding her bent over was loosed and a hand under her chin brought her to stand upright again. Without a word and before she properly regained her balance, the bondage-smith covered one of her breasts with a callused hand and tightened the band around it followed quickly by the other. He took a step back, gauging her bulging breasts then turned an adjuster between them bringing Meredith’s steel rounded globes closer together in the grip of the double rings. Like her corset, the tightened strictures squeezed her breasts in one place causing them to swell out in another. With a final stroking motion over the tautened white flesh extruded through the tight steel bands in firmly drawn ostentatious globes her dusky areolae dilated and distended as round and nearly as large as hockey pucks the smith nodded in satisfaction. A playful chucking of her nipples with the back of his finger made them jump to life like salients raised in the centre of her breasts surrounded by the paint splash of pigmentation capping her bulbous globes. Meredith stood in grinding humiliation at the response of her jutting stiffened nipples as she stood tall and erect, her raised arms exacerbating the already exaggerated presentation she was forced to make in corseted and breast bound attractiveness. “That should do,” the smith observed more to himself than the strictly restrained Meredith. He turned to the young apprentice, “See the result we want? Nice and well rounded, but not to the point of discoloration. Makes for a proper exhibition-high and prominent they are-drawing them together adds just the right touch of jut and thrust we look for without unnecessary distortion. They can’t possibly shake the clamps off or not hold their breasts out correctly. Makes ‘em quite pretty don’t you think?” Meredith didn’t know if he were speaking of her jutting and thrusting breasts or in general terms of the girls he prepared for training. “Feel the tension and remember the shape. They’re all different, but they always become more sensitised and responsive to just a wee bit of stimulation. Go ahead see for yourself.” Meredith cringed as the youngster approached taking a tiny chain arrested step backward with one foot. She shook her head as his fingers played over the tensioned globes of her helplessly offered breasts whining in embarrassment as her nipples lengthened and swelled in aching tumescence at his unwanted touch. “Right then, we’ll just get ‘em finished up and they can be on their merry way. I’ll get the little blond dolly and you finish this one up.” The senior smith disappeared from view and the young apprentice stepped to the bench. Meredith couldn’t see what he had in his hand until she was presented with a bright red rubber ball-gag and its dangling black leather strap. Meredith compressed her lips and lowered her head, but the boy took her jaw in a strong grip raising her head and holding the large ball at her tightly clamped lips. “Open for it.”

Meredith tried to turn her head keeping her mouth firmly closed but the grip on her jaw grew tighter, and her head tilted back a little more in his grip. “Open for it,” he repeated, pressing the ball firmly to her tightly drawn lips. Meredith resisted like a virgin resisting rape but his tenacious grasp and the persistent pressure of the ball to her lips led to an inevitable softening and parting of her lips in a passionless kiss. The ball touched her teeth. “Open,” he insisted. Meredith knew he could lower her jaw and cram the ball into her mouth, but he wanted her to accept it in recognition of his authority over her. She continued to resist but began to lose the internal struggle as he pressed her to obey him. She opened her mouth partially. The ball gained small purchase between her teeth. “Wider.” With a diminishing will to resist and in despair at his persistence Meredith opened her mouth admitting the ball between her teeth. The malleable rubber could easily have been pushed into her mouth, but in a perverse power struggle between an eighteen-year-old boy and a mature woman in her mid-thirties, he insisted she capitulate to his instructions. “Wider.” He did not increase the pressure, but held the ball only poised between her teeth. Meredith gnawed at the ball pushing against it with her tongue in a useless attempt to dislodge it. There was no going back; she struggled briefly and then with a whimper of defeat she opened her mouth as wide as she could in utter surrender to the apprentice, moaning as if relaxing and parting her clenched thighs for an insistent lover. She moaned again as the ball seated behind her teeth having permitted its insertion in obedience to the apprentice. Meredith shivered in the same way she did when initially penetrated between her legs by the long hardness of a lover. “Mmmmm!” The apprentice stood very close reaching behind her head to buckle the gag strap. Her nipples rubbed against the rough fabric of his shirt and his fingers at the nape of her neck, as he worked by feel under her hair, made her spine tingle. He pulled the strap tight; slightly indenting her cheeks, pulling the corners of her mouth back, and holding the ball firmly wedged in her open but gagged mouth. Her lips embraced its smoothly rounded bulk in an openly passionate kiss surrounding its red bulge in voluptuous fullness. “Mmmmm!” “She doesn’t like that gag much,” said the apprentice as the bondage-smith brought Darlene in tow to stand next to the groaning Meredith. “She likes it fine laddie. Look at her flush, and see how hard her nipples are? Look here,” he pointed to Meredith’s shaved vulva. She’s gushing between her legs. “Mmmmm!” It was all Meredith could do to stand still; her inner thighs glistened with the slickness of her excitement. She wanted desperately to gyrate her hips to

move the chain splitting her labia against the erecting nub of her clitoris. She felt as if she were liquefying between her legs. She had never been so wet. “You have to remember how these two were brought to heel. Buggerin’ themselves they were while we all watched them get off. No she’s quite excited by her situation. When you gagged her, it just brought it all together for her. Triggered her response to being bound it did. She can’t control it. It’s out of her hands. It’s one of the first lessons they learn here. Now let’s get ‘em on their way to the second.” Meredith couldn’t listen to their soft conversation, had she not been so distracted by her acute state of arousal, she wouldn’t have been able to disagree with what they said however. She might have denied it, but her obvious responsiveness was unavoidably displayed as flagrantly as her corseted and shackled nudity. She felt Darlene’s arm touching hers. She looked down at Darlene’s generous breasts bulging in steel ringed flamboyance from her chest. Her lissom waist made smaller by her corseting accented and exaggerated her mammaries in near laughable abundance on her proportionally small frame. She was freakishly displayed, as Meredith realised she must also be. The essays of distress scribbled on their features as they stood side by side under the duress of strict corseting and the concomitant shackles, chains and breast binders made them all the more beautiful in spite of the gross exaggeration of figure and form they helplessly presented. A repeated aesthetic of feminine roundness appeared like a visual theme presented by their nakedness. Bright red balls bulged from dilated lips, the fleshy orbs of their breasts elevated and offered to view in protuberant and severely tensioned constriction beneath the softly rounded pillars of their upper arms raised beside their heads acted as visual counterpoint to the sharp point of their elbows held up and forward by their manacled wrists secured in revealing tension to the back of their neck rings. Beneath the tightly drawn black swathe of their corsets, their hips jutted in rounded ledge-like fullness melding into the cheeky rearward thrust and exhibition of the pale expanse of their buttocks riven by a black phallus dilating their anuses. The corset shaped roundness of their bellies in smooth white concupiscence brought the eye to the gentle protrusion of clean-shaven pubic mounds and the equally denuded labium divided by the entry of their sex and the chain buried in their soft moist vaginas. Darlene and Meredith were prepared for a trip to the learning centre. Yet another heavy chain was used to coffle them one behind the other with Meredith at the rear. The walk to the training centre was sheer hell. With the strain on their bodies clearly reflected in their eyes and written in large strokes of agony across their faces they struggled together in their mutually nude patency racked by the exertion to move in their restraints while urged to do so by their escorts’ ceaseless whipping of their exposed buttocks and legs. For more than two dozen paces their progress was a painful shambles. Ultimately they accustomed themselves to the stiff-legged gait demanded by the heavy double hobbles they wore and as if on tiptoe, they were able to move in a quick stilted step like a pair of wooden soldiers. Their legs

ached and burned from the rigidly enforced stiffening of their knees and the burdensome weight of the chains arresting the length of their pace at their constricted thighs while snubbing their ankles as well. The agony of their quick strut was made the more tormenting by the shallow breaths allowed by their corseting and the mouth filling gags that permitted them to breathe only through their noses. Tears steamed down their cheeks, they were nearly frothing at the mouth drooling and slobbering around the ball-gags strapped in their mouths desperately trying to suck in more air for their starved lungs all the time being rectally riven by the stalwart phalluses working back and forth between the incessant jiggle and quiver of their undulating bottom cheeks. Meredith’s heart hammered, her breathing was laboured, and her legs trembled with fatigue. Still she kept up with the struggling Darlene to whom she was chained at the neck. To have done otherwise was unthinkable. Should she falter or collapse it would show her weakness vis-à-vis the younger Darlene who, even in their drastically changed relationship, she still considered her inferior. Her knees couldn’t buckle in any case since the shackles locked around her thighs physically prevented it. So, she minced along in weary and pain-ridden anguish keeping pace with her peer group of one. Darlene’s pale young figure in its beautifully bound presentation contrasted strikingly with Meredith’s taller, statelier appearance. The anguish on Darlene’s features reflected an air of amazement at her own bound nudity and whip induced progress. The blue veined bulges on her heaving chest held her attention as if they belonged to someone else. She appeared to be studying the dark meander of the blue lines on her prominent globes as if they indicated direction and destination in map like form. Meredith, on the other hand, following her former secretary in chained obedience, reflected a world-weary resignation in her dolorous eyes. The inescapable embarrassment of the steel enforced presentation of her breasts thrust out in misshapen prominence like quaking onion domes trying of leap from her chest as if to escape the straight stem of her corset clad torso, added incalculable grief to her distressed nudity and shone from her weary eyes through the opaque veil of tears. They moved quickly, but progress was slow due to the shortness of stride exacted by the steely inhibitors they both wore. Curiously, the erect, proud looking posture they maintained belied the sheer misery etched on their features. Their strict corseting and breast binders; the rigidity of steel clamped to their thighs permitted them no other posture. The effect of the whips wielded by their minders was salutary. Like a distasteful tonic, the sharp cut and sting of whips torching across their bare buttocks and thighs added vigour to the exertion of moving along in chained misery. The uniformed escorts, the stringent corseting and bondage, and the slowly passing grey walls offered no mercy to the parade of two strutting in the grandeur of their torment. The chains between their legs moved and rattled back and forth in a ceaseless cadence of hindrance making them carry the onerous weight while impeding progress and lengthening the journey in a seemingly perpetual march of whip driven hard labour. Thighs hard and tight, calves knotted, bulging with effort, Darlene and Meredith skittered into the training room accompanied by their

own stifled cries and the last resounding crack of whips across their crimson striped bottom cheeks and the back of their thighs. They stood at docile attention while much of what had been done not ten minutes earlier, was undone. Gloves, manacles, shackles and chains, arranged in an orderly fashion under nameplates labelled with their subject numbers, Darlene and Meredith, along with the dozen other members of their sorority, stood only in their fully-fashioned corsetry and high heels next to low round tables while instructed in the submissive positions they were required to practice under the strict supervision of their warders. For more than two hours the fourteen women practised what looked to be a lascivious exhibition of gentle aerobics placing their corseted nudity in a series of wanton poses that displayed their sex and receptivity in adherence to the examples illustrated on the walls of the training room. Hung from each of the four walls were large posters illustrating the numerous positions of humble and obscene display they were required to assume on command. Like a virtual Kama-Sutra for one, the whole series of positions was depicted on all of the posters so that no matter where one looked in the room one couldn’t avoid seeing them. Meredith recognised the position Jonathan had her assume during her pelvic exam. It was just one of many she practised that afternoon along with Darlene and the other girls. Whether kneeling, standing, or supine-on her back or belly-Meredith performed the series of lewd poses along with the rest of the younger women. She groaned and whimpered along with the rest with the effort to achieve and hold position in her stiffly stayed and busked corset. All fourteen, mounted on their low platforms, faced a raised rostrum where a uniformed security guard chanted the litany of commands like an orchestra leader. The display stands although in rows, were staggered giving a full view of all the girls. Once all the women were, more or less in the proper position, half a dozen uniformed guards meandered through their ranks correcting and adjusting their posture making sure they were at maximum exposure. A light flick of the men’s crops prompted deeper arches in the girl’s backs, wider stances, broad distension of their buttocks, and, in positions that required them to hold their bottom cheeks apart, correct placement of hands for optimum display without crudity or distortion of their fleshy cheeks. Meredith felt the crop inside her knees frequently; it insisted she strain her thighs wider thereby bringing her shaven pubes and labia into the prominent display required. Meredith didn’t like any of the demeaning postures. But after more than an hour of constant call and response, her legs and knees aching, hair damp from the perspiration of exertion she knew all of the more than a dozen positions and their unimaginative, but descriptive titles. All were shaming, most were stressful both physically and emotionally, and to her surprise, she had mastered them all but one. After a short break the orchestra leader called the feminine instruments of his symphony to order ready to conduct them through the ritual presentation of their severely corseted nudity once more. Meredith and the other trainees stood in the normal position of attention awaiting the downbeat

of command. Meredith studied the silhouetted figures on the chart behind the rostrum. She found herself committing them to memory. “Attention open.” Meredith turned her feet out as if in a ballet position. She flexed her knees tightening her hamstrings, tensing her thighs and calves in firm muscular definition. By thrusting her hips forward she clenched her buttocks and proffered the bared bulge of her clean-shaven pubes gaping the split of her vaginal lips in open display between her tightly corded and wide spread inner thighs. The rigidly erect posture exacted by her corset and the moulding of her legs by high heels and her stance lent a strange formality to the wanton exhibition she made as it did with the other girls standing in their lewd wide legged posture. As one of the guards approached her stand Meredith strained the harder to keep her knees as wide as possible with her hips thrust out as far as she could. He merely nodded as he strode by her flagrant display. With her exposed genitalia near his eye level Meredith felt as if he were viewing her womb when he looked for just a moment between her straining thighs before moving on. It was with a strange sense of pride that she maintained her pose. That she had got it right was evident since the guard hadn’t flicked his crop inside her bent knees urging them wider. She began to perspire feeling the dampness at the back of her neck under her intertwined fingers. Within minutes, she would glow with the exertion of practising the myriad poses and posturings signifying her self-abasement and submission to the contractual obligations of her indenture. While practising the anterior presentations they all faced the rostrum, but to properly show their director the posterior views illuminated on the display charts, they had to face the rear of the room. It was just as humiliating as if they were facing him, but in a different way. Identity lost was anonymity gained. The shameful exhibitions individually made were now merely the generic presentation of subservience by a group of submissive females ripping their identity from them while subsuming them in a herd like classification more akin to animals than humankind. Meredith took her place in the group meekly. “Grasp ankles.” There were two variations of ‘Grasp ankles’ as well as a grotesquely embarrassing addendum to the latter of the two. But beyond that they presaged the penultimate position on the ubiquitous charts; the one Meredith had difficulty with. In her preoccupation with that horrible presentation she hadn’t spread her legs as wide as she could while bent nearly double with her knees locked in a straight-legged presentation of her buttocks and vulva while holding tightly to her ankles. The base of her anal trainer stuck out rudely between her cheeks. The flick of the crop on the soft inner surfaces of her thighs corrected her posture. She spread her legs wider. She held her head up, concentrating on holding posture while looking in dread at the last few required positions on the chart. “Knees bent, grasp ankles.”

Thirteen young women and the crimsoning Meredith stooped in the revealing and awkward frog like stance presenting their buttocks in the uttermost broadened, distended, and out-thrust exhibition possible. While holding their ankles with their arms between their bent knees, heads up attentively, they presented the black phalluses chained irremovably between the rounded globes of their bottoms as if to show the extent to which the anal inserts dilated and stretched their tight anal rims around the thick intruders. The ignominious presentation served as reminder that they were being conditioned to take the hard stiffness of men in that heretofore very private orifice which now held only a simulacrum of what was to come. That part of what they knew was true. They were also quite aware that the gargantuan device plumbing the depths of their bowels, unmercifully stretching them open in the rear was by far larger than that worn by any of the other girls. That part of what they knew was sheer imagination and the power suggestion at work opening their minds to future potentialities along with the capacity for use of their tight sphincters. The embellishment of placing their hands on their buttocks in a show of spreading them apart further was sheer humiliation since their stance held them as open as far possible in addition to rendering the pinkish oyster-flesh of their vaginas in unconcealed blatancy between their yawned thighs. “This is one of the positions of offering you will make for lubrication and penetration for anal intercourse.” A muffled groan, more like a whimper rose in unison from all the women who nevertheless kept their lewd posture in reluctant but tacit acquiescence to a future of making themselves available and accessible. In proclaiming their obedience to rule by extravagant and lascivious presentation to the proctor, who viewed them with approval from his rostrum, they each admitted the prospect of impending sexual servitude. They soon would accept larger anal trainers and eventually the long hard filling of their rear passages and spurting semen deep in their rectums. As they held the revealing and subservient semi-stooped posture of consummate display and exhibition the understanding of their purpose and duty to the corporation washed over them in waves of humiliation taking modesty and the previously held attitudes of proper feminine conduct and decorum dashing them on the rocks of training and discipline. Meredith had an epiphany as she crouched in concert with the rest of the trainees. The egregious show she made of the chain enforced dilation of her anus and the dripping wet evidence of her excitement slicking the chain between her swollen labia announced to Meredith more than to those watching her how appropriate to her sex and to herself her conduct had become. Arching her back, straining her knees wide, and pulling her bottom cheeks open in unambiguous exposure of her impalement in disciplined response to the directors’ ordered conduct, Meredith studied the next difficult position on the chart. She did it perfectly when ordered. The offering made by the swan like exhibition of Meredith, Darlene, and the dozen other women mounting themselves in the arduous and supplicatory position of abject surrender demanded of them showed a good deal more than

their presented and proffered genitalia raised on the display tables. It showed their readiness for further training. They knew it and so did the guards. With their chins resting near the edge of the stands shoulders flat crushing their breasts under them to the hard surface, their necks were wrenched back keeping their heads up looking out over the edge of their presentation stands. In stark contrast to the low position of their heads and shoulders, curving up with arched backs and softly rounded bellies, their buttocks rose in egregious prominence propped up by their widely spaced knees brought forward at an uncomfortable angle to lift and display themselves in flagrant and purposeful display. With tremors of intentionality, arms extended straight at their sides, they held themselves open cupping their prominent bottom cheeks with fingers adjacent to the perineal space between vagina and anus. Exposure was total. The black phalluses clenched in their anal sphincters pointed toward the ceiling, the normal bulge of plump labia majora stretched flat and wide by both position and their own hands presented the myriad forms of female genitalia in open and vulnerable rubescent flourishes like moist fleshy ruffles; parting the split between their convoluted lips as if on offer in a gynaecological shop window. Like mounted and dressed viands on platters, the women held position while the uniformed officers meandered through their servile ranks observing the details of position and presentation. Meredith shivered when one of the men stood behind her for some time. She could feel his gaze looking into her mind through her uterus. He could see her acquiescence; her willingness, her urgent need to serve the corporation in a new capacity. She held her cheeks wide for the man imagining Jonathan in her mouth while she serviced his bone-hard, dark, silky soft erection with lips and tongue willing him to ejaculate in her mouth. She excitedly anticipated training with her discipline and punishment master. Darlene and Meredith returned to the office one-day. They had been guided through six weeks of arduous training bound and gagged, whipped cropped and caned into the sex servants they now were. Firm hands tangled in their hair or directing them from the back of their heads and necks encouraged them to overcome gag reflexes while taking their many trainers deep into their gorges opening wide for the stalwart members they laved and sucked with growing expertise. Having worn progressively larger anal trainers, they managed to accommodate the most generously endowed of the men on a daily basis after large enemas each morning. Once they learned what they were to do, knowing the meeting with Jonathan that would ensue if they didn’t perform as expected, they tasted semen on their palates perpetually while at the same time their anuses oozed with the spend deposited in their bowels during the long days of training. Darlene initially had trouble with her obligation to perform oral sex, but a public caning set her straight and she responded well gurgling and groaning with her mouth stuffed and her lower lip bulging around jackstaff sized erections; she became an accomplished fellatrix. In the case of the larger black trainers, she looked to be trying to get a sooty stovepipe in her mouth.

With her eyes closed, face distorted with concentration and effort, urged on by a hand at the back of her head she made as much of the member disappear in her mouth as she could, slicking its stiffened length and girth with her saliva. She swallowed what she coaxed to spurt in her mouth with gusto, choking the spewing ejaculate down with gagging competence if not relish. The consequences of not doing so were dire and painful and Darlene dutifully licked the residual discharge from her lips polishing the ebony knobs and shafts of her trainers cleaning the opaque film of semen from their flagging penises slurping it down as required. Meredith got over her aversion to anal intercourse after she was forced to publicly display herself after being bound and raped in her rear passage by more men than she could count. Stretched out on a dining room table face down she had to spread her legs wide with her ankles overhanging the edges. With her hands easing herself open with gentle pressure at the back of her thighs just beneath her broadened buttocks she showed the results of her ravaging. The cleavage of her bottom cheeks splattered with globules of semen flanked the crater of her anus remaining dilated and open with the pool of semen pumped into her rectum by numerous trainers seeping out and dribbling down over her hairless vulva. She’d had a second session with her discipline and punishment master. He used a multi-stranded whip on her breasts and between her legs and she didn’t want a third. So, for over an hour she lay in a pool of semen and humiliation showing the results of all that she had endured by the copious amounts of semen endlessly oozing from her anus. After that, Meredith accepted her obligatory anal rogering dutifully grimacing and wincing as she was repeatedly penetrated and filled, it seemed to her, nearly to the roof of her mouth. On the frequent occasions she was required to service two trainers at once, orally and anally, she felt spitted on the long hard shafts sliding in and out of both ends like pistons. Meredith was severely tried on these occasions and not found wanting. So, the well-trained and compliant sex workers replaced the vice president and her secretary in the executive lounge that afternoon. Meredith wore a smartly tailored paisley dress that buttoned from hem to collar and her Gucci’s. Darlene wore considerably less. She knelt utterly nude but for six-inch heels she could barely walk in on a low round coffee table much like the display stands where they had practised positions and poses of servility for hours. She knelt in one of them with her knees apart, thighs spread, and her hands raised at the back of her neck. Her firm high breasts and voluptuous figure were well displayed. Meredith sat on a couch opposite. She had unbuttoned her dress from hem to her waist and sat with her stylish high heels planted far apart in the plush carpet. Her dress draped over her upper thighs gaped open to her waist revealing her bare legs, and her sex between her widened thighs. Her hands rested loosely on top of her thighs near her knees. She tilted her head slightly to the right and a Gioconda smile played over her lips. Half a dozen young executives and a few board members filtered into the room.

“Oh hello Meredith good to see you back. All ready to serve the company in your new position I see.” Meredith put her hands flat on her thighs and moved her knees wide apart, opening her thighs, stretching her abductors in taut prominence beside her denuded vulva. She smiled broadly. Some hours later she and Darlene mounted the steps of a red bus full of semen and satisfaction. Securely gagged and severely strapped they looked forward to returning to the annex and the continuing obligations of their new positions. Jonathan was waiting. THE END