13 comments/  28198 views/  32 favorites

Seventy Three

By: RebeccaSymmons



Part 1. RUDIMENTS

1

Richard will be leaving again in the morning. These overseas trips have taken place for most of the eight years of their marriage but seeing him go never gets any easier, leaving Kate with the usual emotions of guilt and loss. Of course she'll miss him but she has also come to enjoy the freedom. This trip is only due to last four days, which is about average, and after all this is what pays for the very comfortable lifestyle they enjoy. 

Flying to the Far East has become common; it's where most of the new products are manufactured. Kate knows little of how the business works but has always been supportive and put in a lot of time and effort during the early years. Fifteen years ago Richard and two university friends set up the company, to produce security and surveillance equipment. With an ever increasing need for these types of products in the modern world, sales grew year on year. With two products from their range becoming worldwide sellers on the domestic market the three partners became quite wealthy, almost overnight. Kate was so proud of Richard as both of these products relied on complex electronics and software innovation, Richard's specialist area within the company.

What makes this trip different is that Richard will have a lot to consider. Kate has spent many an hour reflecting on the possible consequences of her proposal, now she has to involve him; that seems to be the only option. She figures that the long journey will give him plenty of time to consider her proposition. 

There's no doubting they have a very happy marriage, they love each other, but Kate's need for something extra has always been with her, niggling away at her, and now, after all this time, it seems that a solution could be available. Richard is a considerate husband, a passionate lover and her best friend, and there can be found the source of Kate's guilt; she knows that's no longer enough for her.

Maybe she's being unreasonable, she's luckier than most. Three years ago when the business really took off and they no longer relied on her lawyers' salary she was able to make a big change in her life. Her passion for art took her on a new path and she opened a small art gallery. Now there's time to meet up with her friends, go to the gym, visit galleries and see shows. Even to her, wanting more seems unreasonable.

To Kate, the other side of their relationship has always been the problem area, always there lurking under the surface, bothering her. In the past, she'd attempted to give it a higher profile and encourage Richard to make it a bigger part of their lives and he'd tried, he really had, but he'd treated it more as a game and not the serious life style choice she had in mind. As his initial enthusiasm dwindled she'd be left disappointed once more and, "normal life" returned, sending it away, back under the surface, but never too far. But today was the day, make or break, she was all prepared, well, all except for the courage.

2

Richard had to go into work early this morning to prepare for tomorrows trip, so Kate decided to join him for an early breakfast. Running for an hour would have been enough for most people but Kate followed hers with a punishing workout in their home gym. She wasn't addicted to exercise but was conscious that at the age of 42 she needed to, and enjoyed, spending some time looking after her body. Never having children and following a regular workout routine had helped to keep her breasts firm, buttocks tight and thighs toned. Her slim waist and fairly consistent weight meant that she still looked good wearing tight fitting clothes. By 8.45 she had chosen a thin summer dress and cardigan before setting off to make a start on the day's tasks.

Exiting the dim underground station at London Bridge, Kate realised how much she loved the summer in London. The streets were still busy with office workers and baseball capped tourists as she joined the crowd in the morning sun. The short walk to the gallery was interrupted by a shrill ring from her phone. The screen told her it was Helen calling. 

"Hi Helen, is everything OK?"

"Kate, where are you?"

"Just leaving the tube station, I said I'd be in late this morning, remember?"

"Oh yes, that's fine" she tried to reassure her that she had no issue with what time Kate arrived. "It's just that these electricians are about to leave."

"Have they finished, is it all working?"

"Err, no," she said, unsure of what reaction to expect.

"Right, don't let them leave; I'll be there in a minute." She pressed end call and quickened her pace.

The short walk along Borough High Street only took a few minutes and Kate stood outside the gallery. She loved the shop they had leased to set up the business. The unspoilt Victorian frontage still had its original moldings around the windows although now less detailed than they were due to the slow build-up of paint applied over many years. The windows themselves had that distorting effect, unique to old impure glass, produced many years before modern manufacturing methods made it possible to produce large flawless sheets devoid of character. It stood on a corner plot giving a large window area for the display of artwork. Right on the corner was a beautiful curved piece of glass held between two round moldings eight feet tall. Kate hoped the glass never got broken as a replacement would not only be hugely expensive but would be a modern soulless copy. A narrow, creaky staircase leads to two further rooms on the first floor, currently used to house the exhibition stands and assorted accessories. Thankfully, both rooms still retain the Victorian moldings and cast iron fireplaces, and one, facing onto a side street, original balcony doors and iron railings. 

As she opened the door the Victorian brass bell signalled her arrival. Helen rose from her seat at the desk in the corner and, in her ever graceful manner almost glided across the space to greet Kate with a kiss to both cheeks. "Hi, sorry I was longer than I thought, I was held up at Mr. Ferguson's."

"I don't suppose he's done the frames has he?"

"Some, I'll fill you in after we sort out these electrical geniuses." Helen gave an understanding nod and called to the back room, to where they had scuttled away on seeing Kate about to enter the shop.

"Harry, Kate's here."

The squat balding figure of Harry appeared round the door closely followed by his apprentice - Keith, whose sole purpose in life seemed to be to agree with Harry at all times and carry the tools on the enormous leather belt around his waist. "Good Morning Kate."

"Morning Harry, Keith, I don't want to be rude but yes, it would be a good morning if you were no longer here. This job was supposed to be finished yesterday. Why wasn't it?"

"Ah well, we're waiting for a new switch-box see, and then it'll only take an hour."

"Well get the switch box and fit it then." Kate said, as though it was obvious.

"We've got it ordered but it hasn't come in yet, the lad 'ere phoned Gus this morning to check, says it should be 'ere tomorrow."

"And Gus is the only London supplier of these switch-boxes is he?" Kate's sarcasm showed.

"Well... no... obviously, but we always get our stuff from Gus see, 'ave done for years."

"I see. Do you remember signing our contract for this job Harry?"

"Yeah."

"Did you read it first?"

"Well... not all of it, I trusted you." Harry was now getting a little apprehensive and unsure of where this conversation was going.

"Well, let me give you a brief summary. A contract is an agreement of terms and conditions between two parties which both are obligated to fulfil. If either party fails to fulfil the terms there are consequences. The terms here state that if you fail to complete this job on time you'll only be paid for the materials which you've so far supplied, the remainder will be forfeited, to be used by me, to pay for another contractor to complete the job."

"Yes but..."

"No buts Harry. You have the choice to leave now and forfeit your fee or you can risk upsetting Gus; go to another supplier, and be back here within the hour to complete this job. What will it be?" The two workers looked at each other, and realised they had no real choice. Harry moved toward the door snapping at the unfortunate Keith. 

"Come on lad, let's try Wallace's." 

"Oh Kate, you were cruel to them" chided Helen. "But at least we should be ready for the opening."

"I know, I hope I haven't upset him too much"

"Upset him? You've probably just made his day - being spoken to in a stern way by a strong woman, I bet he can't wait to get back."

"Helen, behave yourself."

"OK, where are we?" said Helen checking her note pad on the immaculately tidy desk. "Oh yes, Elizabeth came in to see you, said it was nothing I could help with. She's gone to get some bits and pieces and will call back in a while." Kate hoped the relief of Elizabeth's impending return didn't show on her face. She had to see her before Richard went away tomorrow. 

"So what about the frames, has old Mr. Ferguson done them?"

"He's done half and they're OK." The questioning look on Helen's face forced her to continue to defend Mr. Ferguson's name. "They are, honestly." They had used the old man since the gallery opened but had noticed a decline in the standard of his offerings since his assistant had unexpectedly left earlier in the year. "He showed me what he'd done so far and they looked good. I was later than I'd planned to be because he insisted that I go upstairs to have a cup of tea with him and his wife - she's virtually bedridden now you know - oh Helen they are both so lovely we couldn't tell him we were going to take our business elsewhere. Besides it looks like we won't have to. He was very apologetic but said that he was thinking of retiring by Christmas and moving down to his sisters near Brighton."

"Kate you're so soft. We're supposed to be running a business here." Then added; "But don't ever change" and gave her a big hug.

The clanging of the bell alerted them to Elizabeth's return. "Elizabeth, Hi, thanks for calling back, sorry I missed you."

"No problem I had a couple of errands to run"

"Helen, will you be OK with things here for a little while if I pop out with Elizabeth?" 

"Sure, I've got things to do anyway and Laurel and Hardy should be back with the elusive switch-box soon." 

"Thanks, are we still on for lunch?"

"You bet, and Melissa said she can join us, see you later."

3

Kate and Elizabeth leave her to it and head round the corner to their favourite coffee shop. 

"Has Helen always worked for you at the gallery?"

"Yes, but we'd been friends for years before that. When I finished at the law firm three years ago and decided to have a go with the gallery Helen was working as a P.A. for an executive at an advertising company in the City. She wasn't very happy there and felt she needed a change. I needed somebody to work with me and could offer the same sort of money she was already getting so she left and here we are."

"So you're not partners?"

"No, Helen wanted it all official - employer and employee - but it doesn't work like that. I do the more creative bit with visiting artists and choosing work for exhibitions and so on while Helen puts her P.A. skills to use with the organising, bills, invoices, manning the gallery, day to day stuff like that. I'm there most of the time anyway but free to come and go as I please. I don't mind Helen having time off whenever she needs it but she rarely does, she's very conscientious."

"It all sounds like a friendly setup, you must enjoy it."

"It works out well and we do have a good time, yes. If it's quiet we'll go for a coffee or early lunch and put in extra time before exhibition openings and artist promotion days."

On entering the coffee shop Kate chose some free seats in a quiet corner where they could talk without fear of being overheard. While Elizabeth went to order their coffees Kate reflected on their conversation of last week. Initially, she'd been reluctant to divulge her secrets and share the things that she hoped would become real, but had so far not been able to experience. She'd been put at ease by hearing Elizabeth tell her of her own experiences. Kate couldn't believe that she'd been sitting there with somebody else, discussing these things, a real person, not just reading someone's anonymous experiences on a website. Kate looks over to Elizabeth standing at the counter. Kate would assume her to be a year or two older than herself but obviously looks after her figure and skin. She seemed happy, confident, obviously successful as an artist and as far as Kate knew happily married. What made Kate so excited though was that here was a person who lives the way that Kate has so far only hoped for. The difference was that Elizabeth had not just wished for it like herself, she'd gone ahead, taken the plunge, and actually done it. What's more, she may also have the contacts which would enable Kate to do the same thing, and realise her own dreams. 

Elizabeth returned from the counter and sat opposite Kate.

"I thought I'd hear back from you. Before I met Robin I went through exactly the same as you are now. I thought what I wanted was impossible to achieve, a dream, destined to remain that way. Thankfully it all changed and I don't regret what I did one little bit. I felt so free; like this great cloud had dispersed. I saw a new future and I was desperate to experience it."

"But has it had an effect on your marriage, your home life or your career?"

"Well yes, as with anything there are affects, but mostly positive, and I would hope that others see me as I feel I am, a confident, happy woman. I'm happy with my artwork, it's my creative outlet, something I'm in control of, and in all other ways than the obvious it's the same for the rest of my life."

"So you do still feel in control of things, you don't feel... I don't know how to put it... downtrodden?"

"Of course not, far from it. Robin doesn't abuse me in any way, I'm my own person in all other aspects of my life and neither of us would want it any other way. And that brings us to your other consideration - Richard, and his views on this"

"I know, and I'm sure that he'll be OK with it," then added as an afterthought, "but maybe not as keen as me though." At which they both giggled like teenagers.

Elizabeth went on. "It's a big step for both of you and how to approach it is the important thing, but your marriage seems very strong and I am sure he'll be more willing than you think."

"Well I'll soon find out. Richard's away tomorrow for a few days so we're going out tonight for a meal at our favourite Italian restaurant. I'm going to broach the subject then, definitely."

"Great, good luck and let me know how it goes. I'll be waiting to hear."

The two say their goodbyes, kiss and leave the cafe. Kate returns to the gallery to find the electricians near to the completion of their task. By two-o-clock Harry and Keith had finished work, tested the new lighting, cleaned up their mess and left. Helen was up to date with her list of jobs and Kate was hungry. Maybe it was turning out to be a good day after all. "Shall we close up and go to lunch, Helen?"

"I thought you'd never ask, come on."

Lunch with Helen and Melissa turned out to be as enjoyable as ever. Kate ate very little; which may have been for sensible reasons, as she was going out later with Richard or it may have been because her stomach was a little fluttery due to the uncertainty of how things would turn out during the evening. Helen never had a lot to eat or drink during the day; like Kate she saw going to lunch as a social event rather than an opportunity to gorge herself. Melissa on the other hand could eat for England. Fortunately for her at the age of only 26 she had the metabolism to cope and never seemed to put on weight. They both loved Melissa; everybody loved Melissa. Her bubbly personality and endless ability to see the positive side of everything made her good company. She loved to share the gossip about the latest victims from her never ending stream of boyfriends, and get into long discussion of the traits which made them unsuitable. The conversation never got depressing though as the next one was usually lined up ready for the slaughter.

4

The warm summer evening sealed the decision to walk to the restaurant. Richard had returned from work early so they had plenty of time. They've made this journey numerous times to their favourite Italian eatery along West End Lane. As usual they stroll hand in hand taking in the sights and sounds of the city as it closes out another day. They would have taken the car during the winter and been there in 5 minutes but the 20 minute walk tonight seems to go just as fast to Kate. Her mind whirled with alternate starting points for the impending conversation she wants to have; or is it a confession she knows she has to make. There has to be a reaction of some sort, but will it be one of hurt, curiosity, eagerness or maybe Richard will just be repelled by her lack of inhibitions and reckless suggestions. She will know by the time they leave.

One of the two regular waiters shows them to a small round table in the far corner, next to the window. After exchanging pleasantries they order a bottle of House Red wine and glance at the menus. The menu was not necessary in reality as they once again choose their favourite pasta dishes and place their order when the waiter returns with the wine and glasses. 

Richard wants to tell her about his trip tomorrow and what it will mean for future business if it proves to be a success. He even tries to explain the working of the new product. Kate doubts she would have totally understood on a normal night but she goes through the process of listening and nodding at what she thinks are the correct moments, pleased to be asked no questions which test her attention.

By the time Richard finished the food has arrived. The pasta and sauce smell and look delicious, coupled with the rich, full bodied red wine they savour each mouthful. The portions are not oversized, as in many restaurants these days, so their hunger is satisfied without leaving a feeling of being uncomfortably full by the time they have finished.

It doesn't take long for the waiter to reappear to clear away the plates and, as they decline the offer of the desert menu, he leaves them to enjoy the rest of their wine. "You seem rather distracted this evening darling, is everything OK at the gallery, did the electrics get finished?" Kate relays the day's events with Harry and Keith using the shortest version she thinks she can get away with and won't provoke too many questions.

"Actually Richard, there's something that I want to talk to you about." To Richard this phrase often meant that he'd done something she was not happy with, she wanted to buy something very expensive and knew he wouldn't agree that it was necessary or she had a confession. He assumed it would be the most common of the options. 

"Oh yes, what have I done?"

"Don't be silly, you haven't done anything." She put her hand on his.

"It's just rather awkward where to start. You see... Well, I..." Kate's hesitancy makes him curious as to where this speech is going but he knows that she'll get to the point when she's ready; he just has to wait. Kate started again. "It's awkward for me and difficult to put into words. It's about us and our relationship." Richard's eyes widened rapidly and his jaw dropped. "Oh, no darling nothing like that." Kate quickly tried to reassure him, realising how that must have sounded. "There's no problem with us, between us, I love you and always will"

"Shit, Kate, don't do that to me"

"I'm sorry darling, really. I'm not doing this very well so I'll just get to the point. You know how we like to share fantasies when we're, how shall I say, feeling sexy?"


Seventy Three Pt. 02



Reinforcement

15

The text message was short and to the point. Her training will begin on Tuesday 3rd September. An address was given and a time, 7.30 pm. This was the first form of communication she'd had from Oakham since signing the contract nearly two weeks ago. Kate had begun to wonder if the phone was working or if there had been some other problem of which she was unaware. This directive answered her questions and appeased her longing to start the adventure. Surprised by the lack of detail, thinking maybe it was only a summary of a more detailed entry added to her on-line profile; Kate decided to check the website. Logging on proved that not to be the case. The entry there gave only the same information; date, time and place. Maybe it wasn't considered necessary to give a slave any more information, that's all the instruction she needed to be able to do as she was told.

Richard felt unsure of whether he was expected to accompany Kate or not. 

"Perhaps you should go alone to show your commitment to doing this, arriving unaccompanied proves that you've gone willingly, with no pressure."

"Yes, but I've shown that already by signing their contract. I think that having you there shows that you're supporting me in this and are prepared to let them use me. Besides, I wouldn't mind a bit of moral support. I'm a bit apprehensive about this you know." 

Her response pleased Richard, of course he wanted to go with her and see what happened but wanted it to be her decision, he wanted her to include him in this, rather than him being an intruder.

What does a slave wear for a training session? Richard helped her pick out a dark grey business suit, a white blouse and a matching white lacy bra and panties for underneath. Grey hold-ups looked better than stockings as the skirt was a snug fit and would show the lumps of a suspender belt. Black heels completed the outfit. Kate decided on discrete makeup to give a formal look without being too heavy and looking brazen. 

Unsure of parking availability Kate and Richard decided to take a taxi to the given address. The property turned out to be a four storey terrace plus basement located in the Southwest area of London. They walked the four steps to the front door and rang the bell. The fact that a lady answered the door, for some reason surprised them both. Her dark, glossy, shoulder length hair contrasted with her red lipstick. Dressed in a grey polo neck top, black knee length skirt, dark tan hose and grey shoes, she looked smart but informal. The outfit gave away nothing about her status.

"Mr. Adams?" was all she said.

"Yes, hello, this..." Richard was cut off before he could complete his sentence.

"Please come in." She said, standing to one side. Kate noted that she had not been spoken to, or even had her presence acknowledged.

"If you'll please wait here for a moment, I'll tell the colonel you're here." 

She walked down the wide passageway, knocked on the door at the far end and entered, closing the door behind her. 

"A colonel," Richard whispered, "only the best for you."

"Sh... they might hear."

Richard and Kate surveyed the surroundings. The tastefully decorated entrance hall gave access to rooms on either side of the front door, Stairs rose to the left of the passageway. The walls were adorned with prints and photographs most of which seemed to have a military theme. The only items of furniture were a single dark oak, ladder-back chair, together with a large, tall hall-stand with mirror, shelves and umbrella stands on either side, containing a variety of walking sticks and one umbrella. 

The lady who saw them in returned and once again spoke to Richard. 

"The colonel will see you now, if you'd like to come through." She stood to one side, allowing them to pass, then closed the door behind them, remaining outside. 

The large room was decorated in a traditional manner, in keeping with the period of the house. The furnishings were expensive looking with leather sofas and chairs, oak bookcases and an oak desk, behind which sat a distinguished looking gentleman perhaps in his early sixties, who they assumed to be the colonel. As they entered he rose from his chair and shook hands with Richard.

"Mr. Adams pleased to meet you. Colonel Alistair Mason." The well-spoken deep voice complimented the firm grip of his handshake. 

"Hello, Richard Adams, and this is my wife, Catherine." Kate wondered if he would acknowledge her or act in the same way as the lady had done just a few minutes ago. 

"Of course it is, and I'm pleased to meet you too Catherine, your profile picture doesn't do you justice my dear." He shook her hand. 

"Please, do both take a seat," indicating the two chairs in front of the desk. "Well, as you must be aware, I've been given the very agreeable task of training this beautiful lady in readiness for her to perform the duties which Oakham will expect of her." The matter of fact way it was put made it sound like she was there to have piano lessons or learn a foreign language rather than the very different program they both knew she was to face.

"Let me tell you a little of my background and therefore why I've been hired for this task. I spent 23 years in the army, and upon retiring had reached the rank of colonel. My last duties in the army saw me responsible for the well-being, discipline and training of officer recruits. This basic training, often called 'Boot Camp' prepared them for all elements of service; physical, mental and emotional. Just what new recruits to Oakham need, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, of course." Kate responded.

"Basic training for those officers was a tough experience, just as yours will be, but one which they greatly valued in their future career. Of course you won't thank me at the time, far from it, but you'll benefit from the physical and mental preparation later on." Turning to face Richard, the colonel continued. "Training the married slaves is my favourite Richard, turning them into compliant and willing subjects for their husbands as well as the members of Oakham. I think you'll also learn a lot along the way, although of course, things won't be nearly as difficult for you."

Looking back to Kate the colonel addressed her directly.

"The training my recruits received was as much mental as physical; they weren't able to take control of men until they could control themselves and had the self-discipline to command. The same will apply to you Catherine. From now on you'll not prompt any sexual activity. If other people wish to use your body for those purposes then that's their choice, not yours. This includes, of course, masturbation. You will refrain, and if you default you will report the incident to me at once. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir."

Kate knew she was going to find those rules very hard to follow. 

"Do either of you have any questions on what you've heard so far?"

"No, that all seems clear to me." Kate replied.

"How long do you envisage her training to last Colonel Mason?"

"Oh not long, perhaps two to three weeks with three sessions a week, she looks like a fast learner, and hungry for it. She will of course be sent back for refresher courses now and again." 

Kate wondered what she would have to do during these sessions; she thought that she already knew how to have sex. The Colonel continued with his dialogue.

"The training you will undergo whilst learning to be a valued slave will involve a lot of humiliation and embarrassment often combined with fear; more, I have to say, for the enjoyment of your superiors than for your benefit. If you're not committed to this and fail to obey any instructions then you'll be faced with punishment and of course pain. To get the most from your training you'll need to learn to trust. This will be your most comforting tool. You'll need that trust when you're told to do something which you consider to be dirty or offensive and at odds with your current moral views. You'll need to learn to obey regardless of such thoughts, in the knowledge that others have your safety and protection firmly in mind. You'll need to trust me, Richard, and anybody else taking a role in your improvement. Do you trust me?"

"I don't know Sir," replied Kate honestly, "I don't know you well enough."

"If ordered, would you go out into the street now, naked?"

"I'd try to carry out the order, but don't know if I could go through with it. I want to obey and give myself as required but I'll only know if I'm able to comply when presented with each challenge."

"Very well put Catherine. Graham said you were a thinker, and likely to take some breaking from your present moral values. But don't worry; we have the means to make that happen."

"Yes Sir, thank you Sir."

"You see, what's required from you is to obey orders without thinking about the consequences of carrying them out, however embarrassing and humiliating they may be."

"Yes Sir, I'm determined to comply with all orders during my training."

"During your training, and your life as a slave, you'll be given rules which must be obeyed. These rules will cover the way you behave, the way you conduct yourself, how you dress and so on. You'll learn the rules and comply with them whether they seem pointless to you or not. A rule may have no other purpose than to make you obey it." Kate could envisage no problem with obeying the rules but with this man's military background she wondered how menial and pointless they may become. At Oakham as in society in general when the rules are broken there are sanctions and punishments which follow. The fact that you are conforming and obeying the rules will be constantly monitored, with any infractions dealt with accordingly. Minor irregularities may require nothing more than stern words; other deviations may require severe punishment. Of course a serious offence could mean expulsion: the ultimate punishment." Kate considered the implications of this. Given the choice would she choose a severe whipping over expulsion? Of course she would.

"Catherine, you've done a very brave thing in giving yourself to Oakham. To be successful as a slave and be an obedient submissive, these rules and challenges are essential, without them you would not reach the level of control and submission you crave. A group member using you in a sexual manner will not satisfy your need to be controlled, it's just having sex. Voluntarily turning up and giving yourself to be used is the submissive act, not lying back and being taken. So to ignore the rules or, even worse, break them and attempt to cover up your disobedience by lying is not only cheating your controllers but cheating yourself, and what would be the point in doing that. You were told earlier that masturbation is prohibited; you may think that I'll never know if you've broken that rule. When I ask if you've broken it, believe me I will know if you're lying." Kate knew that one was going to be difficult.

"Colonel, may I ask what Kate's training will actually consist of?" Richard enquired. "And how far will she be expected to go with the demands made upon her?"

"I'd rather not disclose that at the present time Richard. That's the exciting part for her you see, the not knowing. Besides wouldn't it spoil the fun for you too? As with any new slave we have to find out how far she is willing to take this, how far she will allow herself to be degraded in order to achieve her goal?" Richard was keen to find out, she'd already gone farther than he expected, and now he wondered how far away the goal was.

Colonel Mason stood up from his desk, reached over and pulled on the long cord hanging from the ceiling. The servant's bell system had been left in the house and still in operating condition. They heard the faint ringing from a distant room. Within a minute, the lady who had shown them in entered the room.

"Ah, thank you Janet. Let me introduce you. Mr. and Mrs. Adams, this is Janet Bishop, my housekeeper."

"Pleased to meet you," said Richard who left his chair and shook her hand. Kate remained seated, unsure of the correct procedure here as the woman had shown no interest in her previously.

The colonel continued. "Janet looks after the house and myself as would any other housekeeper. What differs here is that she is fully aware of the activities of the house and assists whenever needed. What makes her perfect for her role is that she's a feminist and believes in women being women, on an equal footing with men. She finds it appalling that you women come here of your own free will to be subjected to all manner of abuse and degradation. In her eyes you get all you deserve in the way of punishment for your betrayal of your gender. 

All of my clients are willing participants, some are sent by their partners to receive punishment for poor behaviour; a lot are single and come because they crave the treatment they receive. As they come here voluntarily they're free to leave at any time during a session, if they feel that they've had enough. You on the other hand are a slave belonging to Oakham, and therefore, not free to leave. Oakham slaves may choose not to attend at all of course, that is their right, but once here they're committed. That is what Janet here despises and why she has no respect for them. Merely by arriving here they have made a statement that they're available for the use of men, and that's why she adores seeing them badly treated. You see she hopes that the suffering will force them to refuse to attend. It rarely happens of course but not due to a lack of effort on our part." The last statement was accompanied by a broad smile. "Isn't that so Janet?"

"Yes Colonel, they need to see the error of their ways."

"Right let's see what we're working with here. Catherine, would you please stand." It was more of a request than an order from the Colonel. Kate complied.

"Take off your suit and put it on my desk." Kate swallowed hard and slowly unbuttoned her jacket. Following her experiences in Weston's office she was expecting no less than being naked here. She slipped off the jacket and placed it neatly on the desk. She undid the back zip of her skirt and fumbled with the waistband button before releasing it. The skirt slid down her legs revealing her stockings. She stood facing the colonel in her bra, panties and stockings and waited. The excitement was wetting her between the legs.

"Take off the bra." Kate reached behind, undid the hooks and released the strap before sliding the shoulder straps down and removing the bra. She wondered whether her body was appealing to Miss Bishop who, she rightly or wrongly assumed, would like women rather than men as partners. After a slight nod of approval from the colonel the order came to remove her panties. She grasped the elastic top of the panties and pushed downward, feeling the soft material pass over her buttocks. She paused when they reached mid-thigh, bent from the waist and took them to her ankles. Stepping carefully from them they were picked up and placed on the desk with the rest of her clothing. So, yet again she stood in a state of undress in front of strangers; this was getting to be common place. Colonel Mason rose from his chair and walked around the desk to her. The tall and powerful looking man slowly circled her as he assessed her body. She was comforted by the nodding and muttered approval. Moving a chair next to her, he sat down. Taking hold of her hand he guided her to stand sideways between his parted legs.

"Down, and bend over my knee." My god, he's going to spank me thought Kate. Here in front of Richard and Miss Bishop, she'd die of the embarrassment. She did as she was told and positioned herself as instructed. The colonel placed his free leg over the back of her knees locking them in place. I can do this she told herself, Richard has spanked me, and it's not too bad. A large warm hand pushed down in the middle of her back holding her securely. The first blow landed on her left buttock. It was a lot harder than Kate expected and followed by countless others raining down on her rapidly burning backside. Kate instinctively put a protective hand behind her in an attempt to save her flesh from further abuse. The Colonel stopped.

"Janet, if you wouldn't mind."

"Certainly Colonel." This must be a common problem thought Richard as the unexplained request was acted upon immediately. Janet stood in front of Kate, bent her arms behind her back and held them together with her own surprisingly strong hands.

"OK"

"Thank you Janet." The spanking resumed. He worked over the whole area from the top of her buttocks to the curve at the top of her legs. Kate was in agony; she writhed around, tried to kick, shook her head and gritted her teeth. Nothing eased the fire below her waist. She cried out and begged and begged for him to stop. This is what she'd fantasised about, being under the control of another, having no say in what they'd do to her, but the reality was a lot different. Her backside burned, she was sobbing and she could feel the mucus running from her nose. This was not the elegant spanking she'd imagined in so many fantasies. Finally the blows stopped. Kate didn't allow herself to feel relief, thinking it was another pause in the proceedings, but then, when Miss Bishop's hands released her arms she knew it was over.

"Stand up and compose yourself," he said, handing her a box of tissues.

"Thank you." 

Once standing she caught Richard's eye and the humiliation swept over her. He'd witnessed her being spanked by this stranger, seen her cry like a child and now standing here waiting for instructions, what must he think of her? She took a few minutes to calm herself and regain some dignity. The others waited patiently. When she once again seemed ready to continue the colonel spoke.

"That was very good Catherine, well done. Janet, would you show Catherine to the bar please." 

"Over here," was the curt instruction accompanied by a gesture with her head indicating that Kate should follow. 'The Bar', placed at the far end of the long room, turned out to have a four foot square base made of thick oak and a central round steel column which supported a buttoned brown leather pad about six inches wide and two feet long.

"Bend over with the bar length ways down your body and get comfortable." She stepped onto the oak base leaned forward placing her torso along the bar. After adjusting her breasts, which then hung to each side, it was quite a comfortable position. Janet then proceeded to fasten straps to each ankle and wrist attaching them to rings near the centre of each side. Once her limbs were pulled sideways her feet were no longer able to rest on the base. She appeared to be suspended in mid-air. Kate gave a subtle pull with her legs and arms, testing the position. She was granted only a minimum of movement.

"Thank you Janet, Richard would you care to join us?" Colonel Mason moved toward Kate. Richard was glad to move as he had so far been only a passive spectator.

Once she'd been joined by Richard and the Colonel Kate tried to imagine the view that was before them. She still wore her stockings and heels, but nothing else, and the thought of her being exhibited in such a way turned her on. With her head hanging down she could see the legs of the two men standing behind her. She saw the Colonel move towards her just a moment before she felt his touch on her open sex. Pulling her labia apart he bent slightly to get a better view of her, studying her inner lips and clitoris. Kate surprised herself to note that her exhibition was more of a turn on to her than a humiliation, amazed at how far she'd come in such a short while.

"Nice full lips, and good extended inners too, I like that in a slave." The Colonel observed. There it was again thought Kate, reference to her lips. Graham Weston said it would be humiliating for her having them so visible. Now, having his opinion reinforced by the colonel made sure that she would be constantly aware of it. They were doing a good job on her. Her thoughts were interrupted by fingers pushing deep into her, then withdrawing and being wiped on her leg.




Seventy Three Pt. 02



Not satisfied with the intrusion into her sex a finger pushed forcefully into her small opening, she tried to move away from the invader but the possibility of movement had been denied her. The finger was withdrawn to be replaced with a thumb, which pushed hard until she felt the hand come into contact with her body.

"This unsightly hair will have to go." The colonel observed. "Will you arrange that with Miss Edwards please Janet?"

"Certainly Colonel." Janet replied enthusiastically, no doubt considering the pain involved for Kate.

"Have you used her much for anal sex?"

"We've done it once or twice but not for a long time."

"Yes, I thought as much, Janet would you open her please." Kate's head flew up as she looked round to see if she'd heard correctly. Was another woman going to open her most private place? She watched as the woman brought a bottle of lubricant from a side table and return to the centre of the room. Kate lowered her head again, this time in shame. She could see the two men's legs move to one side allowing space for the legs in stockings and heels to take their place. The cool, oil slicked fingers explored her opening, working their way in quite gently. Kate was pleased to discover how pleasant the sensations were.

"She is very tight." Janet reported back to the colonel.

"Most members prefer to satisfy themselves through the use of the slave's arses." His choice of words combined with the upper crust accent amused Richard. "Besides the obvious physical benefits of the tight grip, they consider it to be far more shameful for the slave to be used in such a manner. They make love to their wives in the front; they fuck slaves in the back, very appropriate."

"Yes, I see."

"So to prevent her from being damaged we'll need to make sure that she's able to take some heavy use there." Kate was glad they were unable to see her face which must be near to the colour of her backside. The embarrassment of having her husband and a stranger discussing her suitability for anal sex while a strange woman continues to work more and more fingers into her ever widening hole was unbelievable.

"I think she'll need training plugs." Janet informed them.

"Yes, I agree, we might as well start straight away and get her ready for use as soon as possible. Go ahead Janet." Kate felt the fingers withdraw, leaving her with an empty feeling. Raising her head once more she saw the woman go back to the side table and return with a large dildo which she smeared with the lubricant.

"The training plugs are quite large as you can see," the colonel informed Richard, "which is essential if it's to do its job of stretching the ring of muscle around the opening, quite different from a jewelled plug. Which I'm informed, are worn as a fashion accessory by a lot of young ladies these days. The younger generation eh Richard. With those the base is reduced in diameter so that the muscle closes around it and holds it in place, but what we need is to keep that muscle open, to stretch it." Kate felt the cold sensation of more lubricant being worked into her rectum by the strange female fingers.

"Open up, and try to relax." Janet advised her. "It'll make it easier, don't fight it." She felt the blunt head of the plug nudging at her opening. Holding it in place but applying a steady pressure Janet waited for Kate to relax. As soon as she did, the muscle gave way and the head entered her. She felt it being slowly inserted until she felt the base touching the flesh around her opening.

"She took it very well, Colonel, we should be able to move on quite quickly." Janet wiped her hands on a small hand towel. Kate felt strangely proud that she had been praised for accepting a large plug into her backside.

"Shall I release her and fix it in?"

"Yes, please, go ahead."

Janet undid the cuffs on Kate's wrists and ankles. 

"Stand up, and hold the plug in." Kate did as she was told, feeling extremely uncomfortable standing naked holding a plug in her backside in front of these people. Janet returned with a small belt to attach round Kate's waist, which held three thinner belts to the base of the plug.

"Thank you Janet. Come over here Kate, let's see you." Instructed the Colonel. Kate made her way back to the desk area trying to ignore the feelings originating from deep within her backside. The plug felt huge. 

Richard watched her walk uneasily toward him. Earlier that evening the colonel had asked him if he was eager to see how far his wife would take this. He now felt that he had a much better idea. She was prepared to go much further than he had imagined she would; what's more he couldn't deny the bulge in the front of his trousers, caused by the high levels of excitement as he watched her subjected to these indignities. He hoped she would continue for a while yet.

"You'll need to wear the plug each day, for at least four hours Catherine. We'll assess your progress and see if we need to increase the size." Despite what she'd gone through Kate blushed at the thought of having to insert the thing into herself and secure it with the belt, but, she supposed that was better than getting injured when the opening was eventually in common use.

"Also you'll need to make sure you're clean back there. Before each session you'll give yourself an enema using these." He pushed a box across the desk towards her. She looked at the title on the box. Fleet - Ready To Use Enema. "They're ready to use and disposable. Complete instructions are on the box." Kate had never had an enema before and even though it was obviously to be for practical reasons that wouldn't make it any less degrading. However she also felt an unexpected happiness from knowing that suffering these indignities were a necessary step towards her body being open, and available, to be used in any manner which others may choose.

"You may get dressed Catherine, I think you've achieved enough for today." 

While Kate puts on her clothes, the colonel continues. 

"You'll need to check your on-line profile to confirm appointments but as from next week I aim to see you on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. So, I think on your next visit we'll acquaint you with the strap."

Later that night Richard sat in bed reading his latest Ian Rankin novel. Kate had finished her shower and came into the bedroom. Her white towelling robe matched the hand towel wrapped into a turban over her wet hair. As she passed the full length mirror she paused, took off her robe and observed her body. The front looked much as this morning but on turning her back to the mirror she saw the evidence of her ordeal. The angry shade of red had started to change as the deep bruising set in with yellow and purple blotches starting to appear over the entire area. Kate would have been shocked and horrified to see this on anybody else, but on her she saw it as evidence of progress along her chosen path. She smiled with pride.

"Does it hurt?

"It aches a bit and it's uncomfortable to sit on but nothing I can't handle."

"You did ever so well, I was so proud of you."

"Oh Richard, I thought you'd be ashamed of me, I cried like a big baby. I let you down."

"Don't talk such nonsense, that was a sound spanking you took, it looked painful, and I'm not surprised you cried. They must have expected you to."

"Do you think so? What did you think about seeing me hurt like that?"

"To be honest, when he started smacking you so hard I was tempted to put a stop to it, but then as it went on, I found it really exciting. I'm sorry to say it Kate but I found it so exciting watching you being punished that I felt a bit ashamed of myself."

"Don't be silly darling, I know you love me, and it's perfectly OK that you enjoyed seeing me used." Kate joined him on the bed and gave him a reassuring cuddle. "I like it that you got pleasure from it. The idea of being spanked was a lot different from the reality but despite the pain, I wanted you to be pleased that I'd done it, proud of me for taking it."

"And I was, but when you started to cry and beg for it to stop, my husband side came out, the side that loves you and should protect you."

"I know, but you were strong and thought about what I wanted, putting me before your own needs, and I love you for that. You've no idea how exciting it was to be begging for him to stop, knowing that he wouldn't. And to have you there watching it happen to me, witnessing my shame, made me so hot."

"You are a dirty little madam aren't you? Come here." Richard laid her on her back and took her. Although it was gentle lovemaking, the discomfort of pressure to her tortured rear added to Kate's pleasure. Before going to sleep, as they lay in each other's arms, Kate turned toward Richard, a serious look on her face.

"Richard..."

"What?"

"I'm worried."

"What about?"

"Oh, whether Oscar's having a nice time catching mice... what do you think?"

"I meant, what aspect of it are you worried about, you sarcastic little madam."

"That I won't be able to go through with it, that I'm not strong enough."

"Of course you are, don't be silly."

"No, really, when he was spanking me earlier, I told myself I wouldn't go back, that it was stupid to agree to it in the first place."

"But you don't think that now do you?"

"No, of course not, but if I'd been asked at the time I'd have quit."

"Well there's not much you can do about that is there."

"No, but there is something you can do about it."

"What?"

"Not let me quit, stop me if I feel like giving in."

"I can't do that, it's got to be your decision."

"I know that, and I'm making that decision now. It's just that... you know what I'm like... I'll say something and then regret it later, but you're stronger than me."

"That's a lot to ask, me forcing you to do something that you don't want to do could lead to all sorts of problems, between us I mean."

"I know, but that's why I need you to be stronger than me. When I've got over it and see things properly again, I'll know you were right. Promise me that you'll send me back if I want to chicken out and force me do whatever they want."

"OK, I promise, but only if you'll promise to love me even more after I've been nasty to you, get me a drink whenever I want one, run my baths, mow the grass..."

"Richard..."

"What?"

"Shut up and go to sleep."

16

Kate was up early the following day to open the gallery as Helen had an appointment and didn't expect to be in until eleven. Early mornings were usually quiet which gave them the time to catch up with administration tasks. Not that Kate intended doing that today, she was keen to get started on the diary she'd been told to keep. Her first training session yesterday had provided her with the topic for her initial entry. After logging in to the site she made a start.

Diary Entry: Wednesday 4th September.

I've had a long term fascination with spanking and read many stories and accounts of actual events on-line. I've questioned whether I could take it, how much it would hurt and curious to see if it got me hot and wet between the legs. Yesterday with Colonel Mason I found out. It bloody well hurts. The on-line stories tell of the pain turning to dull ache and finally to 'warmth between the legs' resulting in mind shattering orgasms. Not for me it didn't, it bloody hurt. There may be women who get off on the pain of a spanking but I definitely didn't. Maybe I was just shocked by it; by how much it hurt but the only change I felt was that the blows all merged into one after a while. The sobbing and sniffling were far from sexy, and must have been so unattractive to those watching. The colonel is a big man with a powerful arm and certainly knows his job. In my spanking fantasy I'd kicked and screamed and begged, but mostly for effect. As far as I can remember, yesterday was the first time in my life that I have begged for real, and meant it. Next time I will try to conduct myself with more composure and fortitude.

"Morning Kate." Helen called, as she rushed through the door. "Sorry I'm late."

"You're not late; don't be silly, I knew you had an appointment. How did you get on anyway?"

"Oh, it was just a check-up. No problems at all. Not like some poor bloke who came in, he looked like somebody had whacked him across the face with a cricket bat, his cheek was massive. I let him go in first, before me, that's why I was later than I thought I'd be."

"I'm sure he was very grateful. There hasn't been much to do here anyway, very quiet. Shall I make us some tea?"

"Great, yes please." Kate checked that she'd logged off the website before leaving the desk, and went to the kitchenette. She returned with two mugs of tea and a packet of biscuits, which she placed on the desk then sat opposite Helen, who, during her absence had started to work through the days Emails. Her eyes lifted from the screen to watch as Kate sat down.

"Is your backside sore?"

"What?"

"Kate, yesterday you had to go for your 'training session'," the last two words were accompanied by fingered speech marks in mid-air, "and now you can't move or sit properly, even I can put two and two together."

"I'm fine, really." Helen continued with her Emails. Without moving her head she kept a subtle eye on Kate and a mischievous grin on her face. Kate noticed, despite trying to pretend to read her magazine.

"What?"

"Nothing, I can just see you trying not to show that every movement's uncomfortable. What happened to you?" Kate considered denying that anything had happened but Helen already knew her situation so she had nothing to lose by disclosing the truth.

"We went to this man's house, the man who's been assigned to train me, and he spanked me."

"He spanked you?" Helen burst into laughter.

"It's not funny Helen, it bloody hurt, still does."

"I'm sorry; it just sounded funny that's all, sorry. What did you do to get spanked?" The smile returned.

"Nothing. I suppose it was just to show me that he means business and for me to find out what it's like."

"And what was it like?"

"Agony, you wouldn't believe how much it hurt. It's all bruised this morning but it doesn't hurt nearly as much as yesterday."

"Unless you sit on it?"

"Well, yes." They both laughed at the bizarre conversation being conducted in their workplace, in the middle of the day.

"If he sees that you can take it, he'll keep increasing the severity you know, pushing you further."

"Well listen to you, how long have you been an expert in all this?"

"I'm no expert but it's only natural, happens in all walks of life. As soon as somebody reaches a goal the next one is set to move them on, it's natural." Kate knew she was right. He said it would be the belt next time. The spanking had reduced her to tears and disfigured her backside; how would she cope with being punished with a belt?

"Are you going back or have you come to your senses after seeing, or should I say feeling, the reality of what can happen to you?"

"I have to go, because I've said I will."

"You aren't popping round for a cup of tea with somebody Kate, you're going to get beaten and abused. Why do it?"

"I don't know. He's not some handsome hunk who turns me on, and I didn't have any wild orgasms while I was there, but it was so satisfying. While he was spanking me I'd have given anything for it to end, but, afterwards I felt so pleased to have experienced it, and endured it. There's nothing missing between me and Richard, I love him as ever, perhaps even more so now for supporting me with this, it's just something inside me. Doing this is satisfying a need that, until recently, I never knew was so strong. I can't wait to go back, even when I know what will happen to me. At the time, when I'm hurting, I'll curse myself for doing it, and swear I won't do it again, but afterwards I know I'll feel the same again and want more."

"I'm sure you will." Helen muttered, deep in thought.

After working late into the evening Richard finally arrived home. Kate sat at the kitchen island unit surfing the Internet. With her feet up on the stool's footrest the clinging dress she wore clearly showed the thin straps of the plug.

"You're doing you're stretching exercises then."

"Of course, I was told to wear it for at least four hours a day remember?"

"So you're going to be a good slave are you?"

"I'm going to try."

"Good. Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you I had an Email today, from Richard Weston. Kate turned sharply to face him. 

"What did he want?"

Don't look so worried, we've been invited out to dinner on Saturday that's all. Nothing to worry about, he just wants to see how you're getting on and how your first training session went with Colonel Mason."

"Where are we going?"

"He said to choose somewhere local and he'll meet us there. His treat too. So where do you fancy? How about Minsky's?"

"Is that the place in the hotel, where we went last Christmas?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Sounds fine to me."

Diary Entry: Friday 6th September.

Since joining the group I have been forced to do things, things which previously I would have considered dirty and embarrassing things which I would never have imagined performing. I wanted to do them, in my fantasies, but not in real life. Being forced to do them has overridden that part of me which decides what is decent and indecent, good and bad, right and wrong. I value the opportunity to be schooled by people who know what is good for me and how far I need to be pushed to develop the emerging side of me which has been hidden for too long.

17

Saturday evening and they're due to meet Graham Weston later for an informal meal. 'Just to see how you're getting on' is what he'd said, but Kate was left wondering. Since signing the contract, her status as an owned slave had never left her mind. The wrist band and ring were the undeniable physical reminders, but, more profoundly felt were the psychological effects. Her imagination worked in overdrive, always contemplating the 'what ifs'. And this evening was no exception. Will it be a 'normal' evening, going out with a colleague, chatting and socialising, or will she be expected to comply with tasks of a more demanding nature? Kate admonished herself for the thought. Would she be disappointed if it were a meal out and nothing more? Had she come to expect more on every occasion? She'd played various scenarios through in her mind since Richard told her of the invitation. She'd imagined Weston controlling the evening. He chose how she would dress and what she ate. He would be sophisticated, charming and mentally threatening. She would be obedient, and attentive; basking in her submission showing no hesitation in fulfilling her role in public. But what would be the reality? Kate decided she needed to cover all eventualities, keep it conventional but be prepared.

Richard chose the dress he wanted her to wear. It was his favourite, a deep red, simple, tight and silky. After her shower, hair and makeup Kate started the dressing routine. She'd chosen to wear tan hold-up stockings to accentuate her slender figure and eased each over the silky skin of her freshly shaved legs before smoothing them into position. Next she put on the white G-string, chosen to leave no visible pantie-line and the thin white bra would give support whilst being as invisible as possible. As usual, Kate checked the overall effect in the mirror before covering it up with the dress. The stockings, G-string and bra emphasised her slim, well-proportioned body. Moving down to the shoes she could see why men liked a woman in heels. It would be a twenty minute walk to the restaurant and by the time they arrived her feet would be hurting, but never mind, the important thing was how she looked. Slipping into the dress she was pleased with the effect, the material moulding to her curves, the underwear discreet and the split down the side high enough to show a stocking top when she sat down. Being early September she chose a thin cardigan to keep out the autumn chill she knew would materialise later.




Seventy Three Pt. 02



"Are you ready?" Richard called as he entered the room. "Oh wow, you look great."

"Thank you darling, you look a bit of a hunk yourself, come on we'd best get going."

Graham Weston was waiting at the restaurant when they arrived. As they entered he rose from his chair and greeted them warmly, Shaking Richard's hand and kissing the back of Kate's hand. The meal passed mainly with the men discussing business issues. Kate could see that Richard was enjoying the occasion, due mainly to the hints being dropped that there were many potential customers within the group of companies represented by Weston. 

Throughout the meal Weston had been polite and respectful towards her. He complimented her, asked for her opinions and valued the responses. It all seemed to be so contrary to what he had seen her do and made her do in the privacy of his offices, not forgetting what he knew had happened to her at the colonels. 

During a lull in the conversation Weston addressed Kate.

"I heard all about your training session with Mason, he said you took it well."

"I'm glad to hear it, I thought I'd let people down."

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, I didn't manage to bear it without bawling like a baby." Weston laughed at her reading of the situation.

"Giving vent to your feelings and emotions is expected, Catherine. It shows your make up, the real you, and of course it's good for your abuser, gives them a sense of achievement. It wouldn't be much fun thrashing somebody all night and getting no reaction would it? No, you did well. And I thought the entry you put in your diary was very informative too. Keep it up."

"Thank you. Would you excuse me for a moment gentlemen?" Kate asked, as she grabbed her bag and rose from the table. The split in her dress extended above the top of her stockings giving a glimpse of creamy flesh beyond the dark band. 

"One minute Catherine." Weston looked at her for a long moment; the wrist band and ring were in contrast to the elegant dress and posture of the charming woman standing before them.

"You're a beautiful woman Catherine, and Richard is a lucky man to have such a confident, intelligent and graceful wife encased in such a perfect body, very lucky indeed."

"Darling, I think Graham is correct in his assessment of you, so why not let him appreciate you better, whilst you're at the ladies room why don't you remove the bra and G-string. I'm sure Graham would like it as a memento of the evening."

"Thank you Richard, how very thoughtful." 

Kate froze for a minute whilst her mind processed what she'd just heard. She would have expected to hear it from Mr. Weston, but from Richard? She was shocked, and pleased. Was he getting into this more than she knew or was he being primed in his role? The Email inviting them here was sent to him and not her; was this turn of events preplanned? Either way it was not for her to ponder but to do as she was told. As she left them to go to the ladies room a dreadful thought came to her which made her blush. The change of direction the evening was taking, combined with Richards forceful suggestions had made her wet with excitement, wetness which would be only too apparent when she had to return with the damp G-string.

After complying with Richards requests she returned to the table. The two men stopped talking as she approached; giving her the impression that she was the topic of conversation.

"Ah there you are Catherine. Do you have something for me?" 

Kate realised that she was not to be allowed the luxury of returning to her seat and discreetly passing the item to him.

"Yes Sir." She said as she slowly opened the palm of her hand revealing the G-string. 

Weston took it from her and placed it casually on the table. He looked up to her breasts where he could clearly see the erect nipples beneath the silky fabric. As he did so he slid his hand slowly up between her legs, past the stocking tops and came into contact with her moist opening. Kate tried not to react to his touch, and despite the probing fingers exciting her she gave away nothing more than an increase in the rate of her breathing.

"Mason was right about the hair, it will have to go. Has Grace been in touch?"

"Yes Sir, I have an appointment on the 17th."

"Good, it'll be appreciated when this is made more generally available." His hand slowly withdrew form under her dress. "Do sit down Catherine, ah, here's the waiter, would you like coffee?" Kate looked down and blushed as she saw the young waiter eyeing the G-string on the table.

During the walk home Kate attempts to satisfy her curiosity regarding Richard's instructions to her in the restaurant.

"I loved how you made me do those things back there, embarrassing me, and then sitting back and watching as he fondled me. That's because having those sort of things done to me turns me on, but what's your motive; what's your turn on from it; besides what you'll get when we're home of course?"

"Well, first off, haven't you been told by Colonel Mason that you aren't allowed to initiate sex?"

"Oh yes, sorry."

"I'll decide whether to tell him of your disobedience, young lady, after we've seen what I get as soon as we're home."

"Are you taking this whole thing seriously?

"Of course I am, but I'm prepared to be bribed in order to overlook one or two little errors on your part."

"You're as weird as me, do you know that? And you didn't answer my question; what's your turn on from it?"

"It's a weird thing, I love you more than ever and I know I shouldn't want to share what I adore, but there's such a thrill in doing it. Seeing you standing there in the restaurant and being humiliated was such a turn on. I mean, I felt really sorry for you but didn't want to stop it. It's such a mixed bag of emotions that it's hard to describe."

"So you enjoy seeing me suffer?"

"It didn't look like suffering to me," he smiled, "no it's more like a self-imposed punishment for me. I feel like the ordeal of seeing you being used by somebody else is my penance, my burden for sharing you instead of protecting you."

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it. It eases my conscience. I wasn't sure if I'd have to do anything tonight"

"To tell you the truth, right from the start of the evening, way before we got to the restaurant I was hoping that you'd have to. I enjoyed the anticipation while I watched you preparing and dressing to please another man. I could feel myself getting hard at the thought of what was to come. Then, at the restaurant, as it got later and later, I found that I was disappointed that you hadn't been subjected to any test or humiliation. That's when I took the initiative and made you shame yourself."

"I'm glad you did. I have to admit that I'd have felt some disappointment too if we'd just gone home, without any little trappings. Not that I didn't enjoy the evening as a social event in its own right."

"I know what you mean." 

As they walked on he looked at Kate with a greater love and affection than ever and considered how things had moved so quickly and how they both delighted that she was being used. Kate felt him tighten his hold around her, she felt warm and secure. 

"You're enjoying this little adventure aren't you?" His posed question was more of a statement.

"Yes, yes I am and what I really loved about tonight was you being a forceful player in this. It shocked me and turned me on all at the same time, don't stop doing that, make me do whatever you want me to do. I love you."

As soon as they arrived home and the door was closed, Richard made her kneel and satisfy the urge that had been building since early evening. She was soon immersed in her task and worked him in her mouth until he lost control. After swallowing she continued with her duty until he was clean. When they retired to bed he reciprocated and she couldn't remember when she'd come with such force and pleasure.

18

The Colonel had scheduled Kate's next training session for Tuesday evening. Now she knew what to expect she was even more apprehensive than last week. The spanking had opened her eyes to the reality of punishments, moving from the erotic fantasy to painful reality, and this session held the promise of her introduction to the leather belt. Richard was able to accompany her as he was not due to depart on his next trip abroad until the following Monday.

They arrived on the cool September evening at the stated time and rang the bell with differing perspectives. His, curiosity and excitement, hers, fear and apprehension. Janet Bishop once again answered the door, this time dressed in a grey woollen polo neck top, tight black leggings and knee high black boots. Smart and severe Kate thought.

"Please come in." She said, looking at Richard, "If you'd like to go straight through the colonel is expecting you." She gestured to the door at the far end of the passageway. "You come with me." She ordered Kate, and took the nearest door on the left next to the staircase, which had been closed on their previous visit. Following her in Kate saw what looked like the daytime workroom of a housekeeper. The room was neat and tidy, modern and bright but functional. The large table against one wall accommodated what looked like freshly laundered curtains, still in their protective wrappings and sets of new hooks ready to be inserted into the tape. Oak cupboards and a sideboard held the trappings of the traditional household.

"When you visit from now on you'll be prepared before being seen by the Colonel. So, take off your clothes." 

Kate stood still for a fraction of a second, unsure of this woman's role and her authority over her. If Colonel Mason has employed her into this position she reasoned that he must have also given her the level of authority to accompany it. Slowly she removed her clothes, feeling a greater humiliation in doing it before a woman than she had felt on previous occasions. Once Kate was completely naked Janet took her clothes and placed them in one of the oak cupboards. On display in front of this woman she was unsure how to stand. She folded her arms, trying to look casual, then felt foolish and put them to her sides. The feelings of humiliation were once again causing her to experience the early signs of arousal. 

"There's no need to be shy, you have a very attractive body, and that's what you want isn't it, for men to find you attractive?"

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"I wondered whether you'd come back after last week. You must have had quite a sore arse I'd think?"

"It was for a couple of days, yes, but it's OK now."

"I would've thought you'd learnt a lesson and come to your senses, gone back to having some dignity. You're going to carry on then are you?"

"Yes, I think so."

"We'll see. Right he wants you in a corset today." She took the garment from the dresser.

"Hold your arms above your head." 

Janet wrapped the bodice around her waist. It covered her stomach and finished just below her breasts. 

"Hold it in place while I do it up." 

Janet pulled in the fabric, connecting the hooks and eyes all the way down the back. The corset was rigid but pleasantly tight and Kate could see the result in the mirror, on the wall above the side board. Her already slim figure was reduced even farther; she looked good and felt good. Her breasts were pushed out, more pronounced, and she had no choice but to stand more upright and to take shallower breaths due to the restriction on her lungs.

"Sit down there." Janet indicated the chair next to the table. Even the simple task of sitting was made more difficult by the corset. Kate loved its restriction. While she sat in the chair, Janet attached stiff leather cuffs to her ankles and wrists and a wider collar round her neck.

"Stand up, let's see. I think you'll do." She fixed the wrist cuffs together behind Kate's back, opened the door and started down the passageway with Kate following close behind. As they made their way to the study Kate studied Janet's body noting how good her buttocks looked in the tight leggings. Her slim legs enhanced by her boots. She had a growing fascination for this mysterious woman.

As they entered the study the two men broke off their conversation. Neither rose from their seat but both stared in admiration.

"Ah there you are; thank you Janet. Would you secure her please?" Kate knew what to do after last week's visit, followed Janet to the bar, and leaned forward as before. Her hands and feet were secured to the rings at the side of the base and once again she was stretched, open and defenceless. Janet looked to the colonel indicating that the task was completed. He rose from his chair and came over to the tethered victim. Richard remained seated, the casual observer of her plight. Mason slowly walked around her testing the bindings more for effect than to dispute the efficiency of his assistant. He nodded his approval.

"The strap please Janet." She passed him the instrument as would a theatre nurse to a surgeon. Kate's apprehension grew on seeing the thick leather belt with its wooden handle. Ever since the spanking last week she'd dreaded this moment, and if she were to admit it to herself, longed to experience it. She'd played it through in her mind but now that it was real it was frightening. Determination filled her mind; she'd learnt from last week, she was going to withstand it. She was going to face this with courage and dignity and show a level of self-control which would do justice to her bravery. In her mind she'd failed once and would not let it happen again.

Each slash of the belt was precisely placed, ensuring that the whole area from the top of her buttocks to the base of her thighs received a share of the pain. This was not like the spanking, those dull pounding hand blows took time to have an effect, but the impact of the strap was felt as soon as the leather made contact with her still tender backside. Each strike followed the same pattern. He struck with the belt causing a line of burning and ending in a sharp pain where the tip of the belt curled round. Then he waited for the sensation to die down before applying the next stroke. Kate found the waiting intolerable, constantly tightening her muscles in anticipation of the pain to come. Unable to hold the tension for too long she was forced to relax, and then he struck again. Her stoicism didn't last long. The pain had her arms and legs pulling against the bonds in a futile attempt to escape the assault, the continuing and relentless assault. Losing all sense of time she became lost in the sensations emanating from her lower body. Each new blow merged into the last, distinguishable only by the distant sound of the impact but always contributing to the dull throbbing mass which was her backside. With eyes tightly closed her crying and screaming became the only outlet for her distress.

As if to increase the cruelty, the blows stopped being spread over the whole of her lower body and, instead, were now concentrated in one small area at the centre of her rear, one directly on top of the other, enhancing the pain, taking it to new heights. 

"You can take it Kate, that's very good." The colonel's voice took a while to register, but, when it did, her eyes flew open. The voice was in front of her. She turned to see the black boots and leggings standing to her side and the strap being brought down yet again by Janet. It worried her to think what this woman might do to her, she hated Kate, despised her for not being loyal to her gender. She could take this too far out of spite and loathing. The shock of the discovery was soon replaced by fear and renewed vigorous pulling at her bonds but she no longer had the strength keep it up and was soon reduced to a tearful, sobbing wreck, meekly accepting the woman's endless barrage. Was this her way of gaining revenge for Kate's treacherous betrayal of women? Instead of feeling defeated she found instead a new level of defiance and endured the torture until the colonel called a halt to the proceedings.

They left Kate in position for a short while to gain some of her former composure. Once the beating had ceased, the sobbing soon subsided to be replaced by an unexpected calmness within her. She was bewildered to realise that she was proud to have been beaten in such a cruel way, pleased at having been made to endure it. Naturally, at the time, she would have done anything to avoid it but as soon as the immediate agony subsided, she found an unexpected self-respect; she was considered special enough by her tormentors to put her through this.

"Janet, would you apply the cream please? The colonel asked. 

"Yes Colonel, there, that's better isn't it Catherine? The cream will make it heal more quickly and reduce the bruising." If it had no healing properties Kate wouldn't mind. The gentle movement of Janet's hands during its application was enough to justify its use. Kate considered the bizarre situation, being soothed and pampered by the very person who had caused the damage. Was the woman also paying a little too much attention to the areas which the strap had failed to reach?

Colonel Mason moved round to her front and stooped down to her level. Gently brushing the hair from her wet, tear stained face, he spoke softly to her.

"You did very well Catherine, very well indeed. There'll be others who'll wish to punish and beat you but probably not more extensively than you just experienced. You see we've given you the strength to face future maltreatment with fortitude, in the knowledge that you'll be able to bear it, that you'll undergo it with courage and not be defeated by your abusers."

"I know, thank you Sir." A warm smile came to his face in recognition of her tenacity. 

"You are indeed a valuable commodity, my dear." 

Mason's years of experience in the Army as well as in the role of trainer had taught him the value of aftercare and praise when dealing with his underlings. In this case what the cream did for the flesh, so the praise did for the mind; both had the power to heal the pain. He was not out to break the will of his slaves, no, his role was to draw out their desire to please, their eagerness to satisfy the demands of others and that would only occur when the slave was a willing and ardent participant. Punishment is not such a powerful tool in the training of the slave. Often the slave will be punished merely for the pleasure of others so, in its own right, being punished is no indication of having displeased. On the other hand praise will only be bestowed when deserved; a far more valuable tool.

"You can take Catherine now Janet and help her to get ready." As she approached to undo the cuffs Janet took a long moment to study the marked and used body before her. Her expression Kate couldn't quite read, it may have been pity, it could have been loathing, perhaps even envy, but before she had time to dwell on the analysis it was gone and the impassive face of the efficient housekeeper and assistant returned.

"Yes Colonel." They left the room and returned to where Kate had been prepared. As she dressed ready to leave, she expected another lecture about her disloyalty but none was forthcoming.

Darkness had taken over the city as Richard drove home. Kate looked out of the window observing the people undertaking their daily routine, wondering if she should, or could return to hers. Once home and having made a fuss of Oscar, feeding him a little smoked salmon as a treat, they decided that it was late enough for bed. After showering Kate slipped into bed next to Richard who waited to hear what was on her mind. He'd read the telltale signs, the quietness in the car and her short, concise sentences.

"You'll need to wear trousers for a couple of days you know, you're marked right down your legs."

"I know, I've looked in the mirror."




Seventy Three Pt. 03



Rebellion

37

The Email he received at the end of the first week in January asked Richard to take Kate in to see Graham Weston. No details were given just a request that Richard contact Grace Edwards to arrange a time to suit him and hopefully before the weekend. His intension was to finish work early on Friday, pick Kate up from the gallery and then go over to the Oakham offices.

"Thanks for coming in at short notice Richard, it's much appreciated." Kate's mind flashed back to her earlier visits here when she received the same treatment; Weston ignoring her and talking to Richard. After some informal chat he got down to the business at hand.

"Well Richard, let's get to the purpose of your visit. Colonel Mason and I both agree that Catherine has completed the first part of her training and is now ready to be used by the members of Oakham. She's open and available in all three orifices, has learnt to accept and tolerate quite severe punishment and has the social skills to be a credit to the group." He paused to await an initial response from Richard.

"I'm pleased she's met your requirements Graham. I have to say that I've been surprised and impressed with how far she's advanced in a relatively short time."

"Quite so, and I'm sure, she has a lot more to offer. Now, let me inform you of what we've decided to do with her. The Foundation runs a member's club here in the capital which relies on the use of slave women for serving and entertaining the members. Briefly put, the club is run by a manager, employs full time staff for catering and bar duties but uses our ladies for serving the guests, general cleaning, waiting on tables etc. At any one time there will be approximately twelve slaves on duty during an evening, more at weekends and for special events. After the serving of an evening meal members make use of the slaves in any manner they choose. The club is also the place where private slaves are punished for indiscretions should their partners wish it to be a public proceeding. Of course we often choose to have our own slaves, like Catherine here, punished in public just for the entertainment value it offers." 

Listening to this brought the familiar lump to Kate's throat. She'd signed herself over to the group, giving her consent for members or anybody of their choosing to use her body. In her fantasies she had to imagine what that would be like, having unknown men and women complete freedom to use her. Now she was going to find out what it was like in reality. The mere thought started that familiar tingling feeling low in her stomach. She would be used and others would watch her being used, groped and beaten. She was not even being asked for her opinion or agreement, she'd already given it; therefore, to her this was information not consultation.

"Sometimes," Weston continued, "there will be a lot of physical pleasure in it for her, but mostly the only pleasure will be gained from the knowledge that she's serving others. Most will use her in a selfish way, taking their pleasure then discarding her, showing no concern for her needs or wants. What can be guaranteed is an abundance of humiliation and pain. The members seem to take great delight in the maltreatment of our more sophisticated ladies, relishing in their degradation. But then, if she's half the slut we've come to think she is that will please her no end."

"I'm sure it will. She's enjoyed displaying and giving herself to strangers."

"So I've heard." 

"Serving at the club however, takes her exposure to new levels. The members and staff come from various walks of life so she'll always be wondering if the person she meets in the street, in the Bank queue, or in a shop was the same person who used her so cruelly the night before or maybe the person who watched her being used in some demeaning way."

"And the punishments you mentioned, how are they decided upon?" Asked Richard. Kate thought he would, no doubt, be eager to get her on the list as soon as possible.

"We get back into that grey area here," Weston explained, "as most aren't punishments as such because the woman has done nothing wrong. Perhaps we should say entertainment of a more physical nature. Men like to see women in pain and enduring suffering, it seems to hold a perverse fascination to them." Kate took a sideways look at Richard, telling him she knew he was certainly one of those, he looked away quickly. 

"We don't go in for making up petty reasons to justify punishing our slaves, we don't need to."

"And you can assure me that when in service to the members she won't be permanently harmed or be subjected to abuse?"

"No Richard. It's an absolute requirement that no slave will be harmed, or used in any way which will have permanent consequences. Of course she will suffer pain and degradation, that's part of her slavery, accepting them is a measure of her obligation to Oakham. That's not abuse. Abuse is belittling, damaging and evil, and will not be tolerated. The humiliation and embarrassment she'll feel is her problem and hers alone. They only occur by considering what others think of your behaviour, and that is of no concern to us. She'll be there to do as she's told, not to think about the opinions of others."

"I'm pleased to hear it, and I'm sure that she'll perform her duties well. She's got a high level of determination to reach her goal of being totally submissive."

"That's an admirable ambition which may or may not be achieved. The gesture of giving her body to be used in this way may result in the submissive pleasure she's seeking, or it may not. It may turn out that what she's really seeking is to be dominated, to be abused for the pleasure of others. In the former case the pleasure is gained from giving, in the latter the pleasure comes from receiving. 

For the first time since entering his office Weston spoke directly to her.

"Catherine, it may be that you decide neither is what you want and that's understandable to us. If that's the case then you must speak up and say so, nobody's forcing you to be a slave and you're free to leave at any time."

"Yes Sir, I understand that, thank you."

All that she'd heard delighted Kate, she had a strong desire to be used and felt a craving for the humiliation but she also saw a requirement to be punished, thereby absolving her of her guilt. She'd enjoyed behaving like a slut, and being taken by strangers, but was she supposed to enjoy it so much? No she told herself she wasn't, and the punishments would exonerate her of her misdeeds.

"When would you like her to start?" Richard asked.

"As soon as possible, all arrangements have been made and her uniform's ready. I would think a week night would be best, it's less busy then and there will be more time for one of the ladies to show her the ropes, sorry about the pun, unintentional I assure you. What about Thursday, that's usually a suitable night?"

"That sound fine, Thursday it is. I'm sure that'll suit her."

38

"What time's Elizabeth picking you up?" Richard asked her as she finished getting ready. 

"Six thirty. I'm so glad she'll be there for my first time, I'm nervous enough as it is so to have her there will be great, thanks for arranging that."

"It wasn't a problem; Robin said she was due to be sent soon anyway, so it just gave him a nudge. This is a big step you know, different from what you've experienced so far."

"How do you mean? I've had all sorts done to me and been taken at the hotel. What else is there?"

"Well this will be public, totally open for all to see. Up until now you've been used and mistreated but it's been in private. At this club it will be no limits use by whoever wants to do things to you, whatever they want to do and you're committed to obliging them."

"I know, I hope I don't chicken out and make a fool of myself."

"Of course you won't. You wouldn't pass up an opportunity like this; you're too dirty, too desperate."

"Richard! What sort of a woman do you think I am?" Her mock virtue would fool nobody.

As he watched her work on the final preparations to her makeup, Richard examined his own thoughts. As always he was proud of her, astonished that she could put herself forward to be subjected to the perverted treatment she was sure to receive tonight. He wondered whether she was aware of what might lie ahead, could she take it? Oh she could take the physical side, she already had, but it was the effect it would have on her that would be different. The spanking, whipping and sexual use she'd experienced so far had been carried out by her trainers, people in the role due to their knowledge and wisdom. Once at this club she'd be available to 'normal' people, those with no finesse or consideration of her needs. How would she handle being given orders by somebody she felt didn't deserve the position of power they found themselves in? Would she rebel or accept? He found the hardest part of this was seeing her humiliated, he felt for her, felt sorry for her, and wanted to step in and take her out of the situation. Then he would remind himself that the humiliation was her big turn on. It was hard for him to understand, but no more than her understanding his arousal when seeing her punished.

"I think I'm ready, how do I look?"

"You look like you always do, gorgeous."

"Flatterer."

"Kate..."

"Yes?"

"When you get back will you promise to tell me everything, give me all the detail of what you had to do?"

"You know I will, I promise, but you may not like it. As you said this is new territory, no limits stuff with unknown people."

"I know we've got no say in what happens to you, but that's the thrill isn't it, and if I didn't get to know it wouldn't be us sharing the experience, I'd miss out."

"I love you darling and promise to share it all, whatever it is." She kissed and hugged him.

"There's the car come on, I'll be there to pick you up later. Are you OK?"

"Of course I am."

The club building looked to be early Victorian, red brick with sandstone moulding around the small windows and doorways, perhaps a warehouse or factory in its previous life.

"Here we are then, are you ready, are you going through with it?" Elizabeth wanted confirmation.

"Of course, I've suffered enough to get here, and I've high hopes for this bit."

They enter the main door to be faced with a modern reception area. Elizabeth greets Sally, the girl at the desk, introducing Kate.

"Nice to meet you," she said, "I was told to expect you. Here's the locker code."

"Who's the supervisor tonight?" Elizabeth asked.

"Mrs. Banks."

"Oh, crikey, we'd better get going then, come on Kate, see you later Sally."

Making their way through the door marked 'Private'; Elizabeth and Kate climbed the stairs.

"We're in here," Elizabeth says, opening the door to a modern looking changing room, as would be found in any gymnasium, "that's your locker there; the code is on the card Jane gave you." Elizabeth opened her own locker. "There are showers through there if you need them, a lot of girls come straight from work, and the cupboard over there has enemas, creams, lubricants and stuff like that, you just help yourself as and when. We'd better get ready now before Mrs. Banks comes to check us."

"Check us for what?"

"Dress and makeup, and it has to be right - or else." Kate pulled a face. "Your dress should be in your locker."

"Is that it?" Kate asked, removing the tiny garment.

"That's it; there should be some boots as well."

They both undress and change before helping each other with the zip down the back of the tight dress. Dress would be a loose description for the garment. It was more of a top. Made from burgundy coloured, silky material the dress had a neckband which buckled at the back incorporating a large silver ring at the front. A six inch 'skirt' below the tight waist band failed to reach far enough to cover her sex or lower buttocks. The front panel, being accurately shaped to fit the underside of the breasts contained no covering, leaving them completely exposed. High heeled burgundy ankle boots with fitted straps and rings, and matching wrist straps completed the outfit. Looking in the full length wall mirror Kate was taken aback by the effect. The height of the heels pushed her backside out as she walked, and the tight fabric gave her a wonderful feeling of restriction, reminding her of the corsets she wore at the colonels. The dress made her feel more naked than if she wore nothing at all. This dress not only made no effort to cover, it positively displayed, offered, drawing attention to her breasts, buttocks and naked, smooth sex. She loved it.

"This all fits absolutely perfectly, how did they get it so right?" she asked Elizabeth.

"Weren't you taken to Jane's to be measured? All the stuff that's made for you will fit perfectly. Brilliant isn't it?" Kate was impressed and could now see the purpose of the detail they went into.

As they dressed other women started to appear and go through the same routine, preparing themselves to be used. Kate noticed their lack of inhibition as the women dressed and groomed themselves in front of each other. She mentioned it to Elizabeth who informed her that before long she would do more than just see the private parts of all these women. The whole experience struck Kate as unreal. These women, who probably ranged from twenty to mid-forties, were all so polite, attractive, and well-spoken so... well... normal. As they dressed they chatted about what sort of day they'd had; their husbands and their jobs yet they were all here of their own free will to be used for sex and to be degraded and humiliated. She envied the young girl, not for her slim, beautiful body but her good fortune in finding this avenue for submissive pleasure so early in life. Kate regretted her wasted years. 

As the preparations came to a close, Mrs. Banks appeared. The ladies stood in a line almost like a military inspection. Most received her approval, others, like Kate, were told to apply heavier makeup.

"We're to help with serving the evening meal in the dining area," Elizabeth told her, "come on it's through here."

As soon as they entered the main rooms of the club Kate was shocked. Her expectations were formulated on the wording - member's club. She pictured an old butler in pinstriped trousers and tails serving brandy to an old timer with a big moustache, sitting by a fire. The room would be dark and quiet, the wood panelling and heavy curtains, absorbing the whispered voices. The reality destroyed her imaginings in an instant.

The tall rooms kept the industrial look from the buildings former use, old, pointed redbrick, white painted wooden floors and exposed ornate cast iron columns. The fittings in modern materials and colours, brown leather sofas, scrubbed wooden stools and bleached pine tables. The stainless steel bar and kitchen areas were picked out with subtle coloured lighting all very classy and reminiscent of an upmarket restaurant.

In the centre of the far wall, her hands tied to the wall above her head, stood a young naked girl, tears running down her cheeks.

"What's the girl doing there?" Kate whispered to Elizabeth.

"She's to be punished later. Her master sends her here to be dealt with when he feels she deserves it. Nothing like that takes place in the dining rooms but those to be punished are put on display to let everybody know there's to be a show. When the meals are finished she'll be taken through to the lounge to be dealt with."

"But she's crying, is she alright with this?"

"If it wasn't consensual she wouldn't be here, she knows what's coming and it's not her first time."

Waiting on the tables didn't come easily to Kate, not that she was in any way snobby about it, she'd just had no experience. She was more used to being the one sat at the table in her evening dress next to Richard in his suit. Now she had to remember what people had ordered, let the bar staff know what to add to the table's bill, carefully carry a tray of drinks without spilling whilst being groped and fondled. One couple spent so long debating over the wine list the woman nearly made Kate climax by toying with her clit, while the man roughly probed her smaller opening with his fingers. The regular customers knew it was her first night and seemed eager to check out the new offering. 

As the proceedings drew to a close in the dining area Mrs. Banks told her to leave the rest to the hired staff and go through to the lounge. Similarly appointed and just as impressive, the lounge areas were obviously where the main events took place. Large, ornately decorated rugs covered the floor areas providing a much softer look and a more practical surface. Mid-way along the main wall stood a low, raised platform. The heavy wood and leather furniture left Kate with little doubt as to its use. To her left Kate saw Elizabeth, bent forward over a low table being taken from behind. Other slaves she saw were carrying trays of drinks, performing oral sex or being spanked. Some were sitting with members casually chatting or being groped. Kate was surprised at how quickly she became acclimatised and accepted it as normal behaviour.

During the evening the unfortunate slave from the dining room was brought forward to the platform, tied between two wooden posts and severely beaten. The punishment seemed to arouse the members, both men and women who took a renewed interest in the available slaves, making repeated use of the openings on offer.

Kate took her share of the attention having all three holes violated at the will of whoever demanded their use. It was during one such use, kneeling on the floor, backside high in the air being roughly taken that the sight of Richard standing in the doorway brought her back to reality. How long he'd been watching she had no idea. She knew he'd be picking her up but had given no consideration to the fact that he'd come in and see her being used in this way. How would he react? She waited nervously, keeping eye contact. He smiled, and winked, then continued talking to another member.

"Is she your partner?" He asked.

"She's my wife actually."

"Well you're lucky, she's quite a find." Richard knew he was lucky. Looking over to her he thought how sexy she was in her short dress, her long slim legs on display. Earlier this evening they'd cooked and cleaned away together, now here she was the whore for whoever desired her, able to change from perfect wife to group slave just like that. He could see the fluids from her use running down her legs.

"Do you enjoy her being a slave, seeing her being used like this?"

"Yes I do, very much so."

"Then you're both lucky."

She had no idea how she had managed to marry the perfect husband. She now continued to smile to herself as the person behind her frantically worked at her sore opening. She watched Richard sitting on one of the sofas, chatting to the other member as he casually observed his wife being crudely mauled by the uncaring person behind her, and she knew he'd love it.

When the club closed, the women changed back into their own clothes once again, to the outside world, becoming respectable members of society. During the ride home Kate told him all about the club and what her duties were, relaying what had happened to the young girl.

"It was a real shock looking up and seeing you there, watching me being used like that. I didn't know what you'd think."

"I think in this business we both need to be capable of dealing with shocks and accepting of each other's behaviour."

"And you have been, accepting I mean, and I love you for it. You're the special one not me. I'm the one having things done to me, they're not by choice but they are to satisfy my own needs. I suppose I'm being selfish, but you, your only decision is whether to put up with seeing me used, you don't choose to do things that I might object to."




Seventy Three Pt. 03



"Well, that's true so far, but I could do."

"Could do what?"

"Choose to do something you weren't happy about."

"Richard, I love you doing things to me, and making me do things, you couldn't upset me."

"But that's the point; it might not be with you."

"What do you mean, who would it be with?"

"You haven't thought this through have you? I was there to see you being used tonight because, as the partner of a group slave I have automatic membership. I could use any of the slaves in the same way as you were being used by the other members."

The halt in the conversation seemed to last forever as Kate's brain processed what he'd said. It was true; she hadn't for one moment considered these implications.

"I hadn't even thought of that, I've been too busy thinking of me and my needs. You're right; they're all available to you, just the same as any of the members."

"That's right. Think about it. I could have made use of Elizabeth, right there in front of you, and she, nor you, would have grounds to object."

"Bloody hell..." Richard watched as she mulled things over in her mind, no doubt considering all the possibilities and implications. After letting her stew for long enough, he decided to put her out of her misery.

"It's rather fortunate for you that at present I have no desire or intension of acting on those rights, I love my wife."

"Oh Richard, you shit, thank God for that. I know it sounds really odd under the circumstances, but I don't know how I'd handle that."

"Well I thought I'd just mention it now, you know, just to keep you on your toes, make sure you behave, make me a cup of tea whenever I say, warm up my side of the bed, fetch..."

"Alright, you've made your point, and thank you. I mean that."

"Was it as you expected then, overall?"

"You were right you know; it was different. You not being there left me feeling vulnerable, without protection. Even the Colonel or Janet being there would have provided some comfort. It was scary, but good scary."

"Did you find it hard to do as you were told?"

"I suppose I did, yes. Some of them were a bit uncouth and crass, but having to obey them was perhaps more of a turn on than complying with the more sophisticated ones. I am odd aren't I?"

"You certainly are."

At the end of the short journey Richard pulled up in front of the house, 

"I'll run you a bath and then you can tell me all the best bits."

The steaming bath looked so inviting, Kate removed her clothes.

"Are you sore?"

"Yes, a little."

"Show me." She opens her legs spreading the lips. "How many took you there?"

"Two or three."

"Turn around and bend forward." She did. His fingers slowly stroked her sore red opening. He could still see the fluid seeping from her. "Next time I want you to hold it all in until you get back. I want to see the evidence of your disgusting behaviour. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir." It was the first time she'd used the word to him, and it thrilled her.

"Get in the bath, let me wash you. Tell me what you had to do." 

"I had to use my mouth twice."

"Did you swallow it?"

"Yes."

"Anything else?"

"Yes, somebody was going to use Elizabeth, in her rear, he made me use my tongue to lubricate her first."

"And you did it?"

"Yes, of course."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"I thought I'd find it unpleasant, and thinking about it now, in the cold light of day, it should have been, she's my friend. But at the time it was a real turn on, yes, I did enjoy it, having to do it I mean." She smiled.

He soaped and cleaned her with such tenderness, using the soft sponge to wash the strangers from her body and mind. After towelling her dry he laid her on the bed.

"Now you once again belong to me, Kate the wife not Catherine the slave." He spread her legs wide and used his tongue to bring her the same pleasure she'd brought to others, but took care not to add to her soreness.

39

Friday morning at the gallery was quiet, quite usual for January. Presents were bought last month and now people were replenishing the coffers. They used the time to plan for the year ahead, carry out maintenance on the gallery and book in artists for new exhibitions. Kate knew also that Helen would be more than keen to find out how her first night went at the Boardroom. She used to pass on just enough detail to paint a general picture of her exploits, but that seemed to be insufficient these days with Helen probing deeper and deeper for the whole story. Kate had stopped feeling uncomfortable with sharing the knowledge, as Helen no longer seemed to judge her or indeed even try dissuading her from continuing with the adventure. Before they'd even sat down with their mid-morning cup of tea Helen had broached the subject.

"So, tell me, did you go to that club last night?"

"I most certainly did."

"And... what was it like, what did you have to do? Come on."

"Well the place itself was very plush; I can see why it costs so much to be a member. I had to do some waiting on tables, serve drinks and got shagged until sore, all in all a good night. What did you do?"

"Stayed in and washed my hair. No seriously, how did Richard take it, you know, you making love to other men?"

"I haven't ever and never will 'make love' to other men. They use me to fuck; I only make love with my husband."

"Sorry, that was insensitive of me. So he's OK with you being used like that?"

"Yes, he is. I'm not a prostitute, but I'm being prostituted, and we're both happy with that."

"You both seem it, yes; I'm rather envious of you in a lot of ways."

"He dropped a bombshell on me last night though, something I hadn't considered. He has the right to use any of the other slaves, just as I'm being used."

"Hmm... of course, and how do you feel about that? What's good for one is good for the other?"

"I spent a long time thinking about it last night and came to the conclusion that it's not quite the same. If somebody uses me, it's not of my choice; although I've chosen to be available to be used I haven't chosen a particular person. If Richard chooses to use a slave what would his reasoning be? Does he fancy her? Is he seeing if she's better than me? Is it because she's young? Anyway he says he doesn't intend to take up the offer as he 'has enough on his plate with me'. What a cheek, but I am glad."

"You're a lucky woman Kate, I'm sure most blokes would jump at the chance. He must really love you."

"I know he does and I know I'm lucky, he never ceases to surprise me. Since starting this I've surprised myself as well as you. You know how I like to do things properly and be the best at whatever I'm doing. This is no exception, stupid as it sounds, if I'm going to be a slut, I want to be the best slut out there, make people proud of me show them how well I can do it." They both laughed at the absurd statement.

"You're mad, do you know that?"

"Yes, I know, but you'd be surprised at the buzz I get from dealing with the emotional side. I've been scared, annoyed, ashamed, proud; satisfied...it goes on. It's not just the sex. The more difficult the situation the greater the satisfaction of seeing it through, it's challenging and that's good for anybody."

"When you talk like that you make it sound like a hobby or a game."

"Oh no, it's far from it. This is not something you do at the weekend and then back to work on Monday, life as normal. It's a lifestyle choice and it's serious. There are risks of course but there are also rewards."

"You will be careful won't you Kate?"

"You know I will. This is all taking place under proper controls and with everybody's safety in mind."

40

Friday night would be busy they said, it always was when a new slave was being introduced. What that meant Kate had no idea. The schedule on her profile had been updated requiring her attendance this evening. Yesterday's induction had familiarised her with the Boardroom's layout and procedures, giving her a lot more confidence to handle whatever tonight may bring.

"Are you ready?" Richard had been waiting for a good ten minutes so far while she made last minute adjustments to her hair and makeup.

"As ready as I ever will be. Are you staying tonight?"

"Oh yes, I wouldn't miss your introduction, I had a personal invitation this morning."

"So, what does an introduction consist of, what do I have to do?"

"I don't know, it didn't say. Exciting isn't it?"

"Oh yeah, I'm wetting my pants, can't wait." The sarcastic comment was, in reality, not far from the truth. But she wouldn't like to admit it to him; she'd rather play it down, pretend indifference. She wasn't fooling him though.

After leaving Richard in the reception area, Kate made her way through to the changing room. Two girls whom she hadn't met before were there preparing themselves, just as she had last night. They all introduced themselves, and chatted about the club in general. Kate undressed before removing her dress and boots from the locker. Just as she pulled the tight garment over her head Mrs. Banks entered the room.

"You won't need that tonight Catherine, not for your introduction."

"Sorry, I just assumed. What shall I put on?"

"Just these," she said, dropping the five cuffs on the floor at her feet, "that's all you'll be needing."

Kate immediately worked out the implication, and she froze. She remembered the young girl punished last night, was it now her turn?

"Gina, put them on her will you, she seems to be incapable."

Once the thick leather wrist and ankle cuffs were in place, Gina strapped the wide collar round Kate's neck. 

"Right, take her to the dining area will you and secure her. Let the customers see what's for desert." Mrs. Banks left them to the task, confident it would be carried out to her satisfaction.

"Sorry about this," Gina whispered as she led Kate through to the dining room, "all new slaves have to go through it. It's not so bad."

Being consoled before the event did nothing to lessen Kate's unease. The dining room was quiet at such an early hour, with only three members about to take their seats at one of the tables. The open redbrick felt cold against her back as Kate was fixed to the wall. She'd got used to being seen naked by the Colonel and Janet but this was taking things to a new level. The room will shortly fill, exposing her to the gaze of total strangers. Would any recognise her as the lady from the art gallery who now has her hard nipples and naked sex on display for whoever may wish to see, what a slut she must be.

Soon the room began to fill with members. Couples, groups and individuals, studied the menu, chose their wines and quietly conversed, waiting for their starters, much the same as in hundreds of other restaurants across London. Were there any others with a naked lady hanging from the wall? Perhaps not. Most men were dressed in suits or dinner jackets, their partners in classic evening wear, making the contrast to the naked Kate even more pronounced. 

The evening passed slowly, maybe the large station clock on the far wall had been placed in view purposefully, to make time pass more slowly, prolonging the wait. She could see people discussing her, gesturing in her direction, perhaps speculating on her fate. One or two even came over to take a closer look, touch her naked body and comment on how well it would mark. They weren't helping to ease her anxiety.

She knew the time was drawing close on seeing the coffee and brandy served. Given the choice of letting time drag, putting off the inevitable for as long as possible or wishing the time away and getting the deed underway, she couldn't decide. She didn't have to; Gina returned, released her arms, carefully placed a blindfold over her eyes and fixed the wrist cuffs together behind her back. The darkness offered some relief, preventing her from having to decide where to look, something she'd struggled with all evening. She heard the metallic click at her neck before feeling the pull of the leash, ushering her forward. Following, while blindfolded, proved to be harder than expected. She wanted to walk gracefully and with dignity but stumbled and hesitated.

Her remaining senses enhanced she heard the murmuring as they entered the crowded room. She could feel the heat emanating from the people around her as she was led to the platform. She walked tall, determined to control her nerves and show no fear. Once again she felt her wrists released and her arms drawn high, one to each side, her ankle cuffs fixed together and secured to the floor. There she stood; a perfect naked Y shape ready to face what was to come.

The blindfold removed, she sees the crowded room before her. Dinner suits, evening dresses, crossed legs, stocking tops, all very classy and tasteful she thinks. Surely she should be one of them, not the one standing before them naked and defenceless, having given her consent to be whipped.

To the side she sees a man take to the platform then listens as he informs the crowd of the availability of slave 73. She's given herself for their pleasure, a no limits group slave, all holes available, happy to be whipped and beaten... As he continued with his monologue, Kate realised how degrading his words were and how truthful. She'd agreed to do all those things and yes she would get great pleasure from submitting to them. The shame hit her. He ended his introduction with 'and so ladies and gentlemen, I give you slave seventy three'. The crowd applauded, stamped their heels and jeered. As the noise died down an expectant hush filled the room. During the prolonged wait Kate told herself to remember her training, she'd done this before; she must endure it with dignity.

Crack. The leather whip struck her flesh without warning, coiling around her torso and flicking the end brutally against her ribs. Her natural reaction to move away from the source of the pain was thwarted by her bonds. Further slashes from the cruel implement add to her distress, cutting around her body before the end snaps, the final sting cutting into her. The noise from the crowd rises, encouraging the wielder of the whip who soon responds to their requests, drawing moans, tears and finally screams from his victim. This is what they want to see.

The whooshing sounds stop and the blows stop to be replaced by applause and whooping from the crowd. Was it applause to acknowledge the endurance of the victim or the cruelty of the aggressor? Who can tell? Does it matter?

For the first time since leaving him in the reception area she sees Richard. Stepping onto the platform he stands behind her, puts his arms round her body supporting her as her arms are released. His jacket rubs against her tender flesh, stinging and comforting. 

"You did so well, you look beautiful." He whispered in her ear. She feels his arousal pushing against her back. As the wrist cuffs are once again fastened behind her back the master of ceremonies announces that she'll now circulate, for them to appreciate. Richard guides her from the platform, and down into the crowd. A sudden fear overcomes her, craving the anonymity afforded by the blindfold. As she moves into the crowd it starts. Hands grope her, pull at her nipples, squeeze her breasts and slap her tortured buttocks. The women preferred to feel her marks, the raised welts, often smiling as they did so. Once they reach the centre of the room Richard pushes her down, over a table, holding her in position while fingers probe her openings, her deep shame not deriving from her treatment but at her response to it, at the moisture flowing from her, testimony to her depravity. One slender hand continued working at her, probing ever deeper until finally she capitulated, her body shaking, jerking and spent.

Her pleasure was outweighed by the shame she felt in knowing that all these people could see the level of her arousal even under these conditions.

Diary Entry: Saturday 25th January.

This morning my sore and aching body is suffering from the consequences of the treatment it received last night, but my eager and active mind revels in its own reward. The pain I hated; the humiliation I loved. The feeling of being controlled in front of all those people is so hard to describe. The marks left on my flesh will be gone long before the pride of accepting them starts to even fade. 

Giving myself over to be whipped fuels my arousal, not the whipping itself. The pain does not excite me, I hate it, but I love having to endure it, seeing it as a way of enforcing my slavery. To me, the greater the pain I suffer the more I have shown my commitment to my slavery, and am therefore grateful for it. Returning for more is my gift, my thanks, to those who abuse me.

What do those people think of me I wonder, the probing pinching fingers insulting my body? What did the woman think as she pushed her hand into me, forcing me to climax despite her rough treatment? I wonder. Does it matter?

41

Being used by Oakham members had become a more and more frequent occurrence. It had been two months since that first time when she was taken by the stranger in the hotel. True to his word Richard had made full use of their home gym to leave her bound and at the disposition of those allowed to use her. Her abusers tended to be from the same small group of trusted acquaintances. One of them, Keith Murray, she loathed. The short stocky man who had mauled her that Sunday morning so long ago, now often treated her disgracefully, leaving her feeling dirty and used in a different way than she'd envisaged in her fantasies. This seemed to be a strange perception from one seeking the most degrading treatment possible and hard to explain. She even found it hard to justify to herself, it was only a feeling with no sensible reasons to back it up.

Richard loved the power he gleaned from putting her through these ordeals, especially when they were particularly sadistic in their use of her. Some delighted in degrading her, making her crawl along the floor or spread her legs in front of them and masturbate. Most however, just wanted to use her for sex, to have the use of a beautiful, compliant woman seemed to be enough. Even for those she still had to be fixed over the bar for when they arrived... they decided if and when to release her. However she was to be used, she always carried out her duty with passion, even though she rarely reached a climax and often felt little at all. However, as soon as the men were satisfied and left, having provided the foreplay, Kate and Richard would make love with a fury so intense it never failed to satisfy both. Lying in bed following one such session Richard sought her opinion on having to be used in this way.

"When you were first told about being used like this, I remember you were horrified, do you still think like that?"

"Naturally I was unsure about it to start with, but I suppose I've got used to it now. I love that I've no say in the decisions over my use, no control over who'll use me, and what they can do with me."

"You could still say no, you'll always have that option."

"I know, but I don't want to be given the opportunity to object. I'm happy to do whatever, however disgusting it is. It satisfies my needs without the guilt."

"Even with Keith Murray?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen how you react to him; you hate him being near you, why's that?"

"Oh Richard, I'm sorry, I've tried not to let it show, he just repulses me. I don't know why, and I know that goes against what I'm supposed to want out of this."

"That's odd; I would have thought you'd get more of a thrill from that."

"I don't know what it is, it's humiliating being given out like a possession on loan but it just feels different with him, creepy, I can't put my finger on it. He makes me feel very uneasy, especially when you leave me alone with him, I don't feel safe." Richard gave a laugh. "How can you be abused in a safe way? That's a bit of a contradiction, isn't it?"




Seventy Three Pt. 03



"It is, I know, but this whole thing's full of contradictions isn't it? Look at me agreeing to do this. I wouldn't do it if I didn't love you and trust you. I hate it and feel degraded, but I've given you my permission to hate it, it's almost like consensual rape, there's another contradiction. Is there such a thing as consensual rape?"

"Blimey you're a deep thinker today, I'm impressed."

"Do you know the best example of 'opposites' in all this?"

"Go on, amaze me."

"You."

"Why me?"

"Because, you're so nice. If you were a sadistic dominant who didn't care about me I wouldn't do this. You're not like that though. I trust you to hurt me, or have me hurt. I know it's because you love me. It takes a lot of courage and strength to have me beaten and the fact that you can do it is a good thing, it shows that you're thinking of my needs, even if that's difficult for you. That's why I love you."

"My God listen to us; I think I'm getting as nutty as you."

"Of course you're not, you're the same old you, and don't you ever change."

"I think I already have."

"How?"

"I think I must get a thrill out of punishing myself. I love watching you get ready, preparing yourself for another man. I love to watch you putting on your makeup, pulling on your stockings and doing your hair, knowing it's going to benefit somebody else. I love fixing you to the bar downstairs, you're so compliant, accepting of your fate, and when I leave you alone it's to come up here to imagine what's happening to you, to wonder whether me not being there will increase your suffering."

"You're not punishing yourself..." She couldn't think how to justify her statement, perhaps he was right. Then he continued.

"And when you get back from your duties I love to make you tell me the details, even show me the evidence of how some stranger has defiled my wife. How he's used what's mine and should be mine alone. Perhaps that's what I'm punishing myself for, for agreeing to go along with this."

"You know what we need don't you?" She asked after a brief pause.

"What's that?"

"A cup of tea, off you go." He got out of bed and put on his robe before realising he was doing her bidding.

"You're supposed to be the bloody slave."

"But you're the nice one," she whined. As he went off down the stairs she called after him. "And I wouldn't mind a biscuit."

42

"What time do you have to leave for the airport?" Kate asked.

"Taxi should be here at four thirty."

"I wish you could come with me instead, I prefer it when you're there."

"I know, but they're going to keep me informed, so behave yourself."

"I always do you know that." 

"Do you want a glass of wine? You won't need to drive to the Carlton, it's only a ten minute walk."

"Yes please, I could do with a glass." When Richard returns with the drinks he sits on the bed and watches her prepare for her assignment. Freshly showered and made up she starts to dress, easing the dark stockings along her shapely legs, smoothing out the creases, hooking the tops to the suspender straps. As her instructions stated, no bra or panties. With a cardigan, the dress would be warm enough; the late spring weather had been kind this year. After slipping on her heels she stopped to check in front of the long mirror.

"What do you think, will I do?"

"There'll be no complaints there, I'm sure; you look as beautiful as ever."

"Do you know this Benjamin Macey?"

"Not personally, but I've heard of him at The Boardroom, nothing bad."

"Good, perhaps he'll just buy me a slap up meal and be satisfied with my intelligence and wit."

"I doubt it but there might be some slap involved, you'd better get going or you'll be late."

A last look in the mirror to check, and pleased with the result looking back at her. The dress, ending above the knee, shows enough leg to tease but not short enough to draw attention, and more heavily made up than she'd choose for daytime, but that's a normal requirement for assignments. Grabbing her bag she sets off.

"I'm off then, you have a good trip and I'll see you on Sunday," she said giving him a hug and kiss, "see if you can Skype me, I'll leave the laptop on in the evenings."

"Will do, love you."

Even though the walk to the hotel was short it gave time for the customary doubts to fill her mind. What would be expected of her? Would he be alone or would she be required to provide service to others? Would he be pleased, find her attractive enough, would he be pleasant, kind, rough... The possibilities were endless and, taunting herself with negative thoughts would make no difference to the eventual outcome. She would carry out whatever orders she was given and do whatever was asked of her, determined not to let him down, let Oakham down, or let herself down.

The faint swishing sound of her stockings sliding over each other brought her thoughts back to the present, and reminded her that she must order some new supplies from Janes, she was down to her last couple of pairs. All too soon the hotel came into view, starting the familiar fluttering in her stomach, the tightening in her throat and the beating in her chest, she loved it, playing the slut for whoever wanted her.

The reception area was quiet, the modern interior light and airy. The young man on the desk greeted her warmly.

"I'm here to see Mr. Macey," she told him, "I am expected."

"Of course, if you'd like to come this way please." This was a different turn of events thought Kate as she followed the young man. She expected him to call a room number, telling him he had a guest in reception. She now had the impression that this man was of more importance than the average guest, he was certainly known to the staff. As they entered the lounge area, Kate scanned the room eager to guess the identity of the man before being shown by the clerk. There were many possibilities, the lounge being far busier than the quiet reception would lead one to believe. Kate chose the gentleman sitting in front of a low table tapping the keyboard of his laptop. Looking to be late forties, average height and quite attractive she would be pleased to be proved correct. As soon as the thought came into her mind she reprimanded herself. She was there to serve the people who chose to use her, should it matter what they looked like?

"Mr. Macey, your guest has arrived," the clerk announced as they approached an area occupied by two large, soft and comfortable looking sofas.

"Thank you, Mark." First name terms with the staff too thought Kate, impressive. The man rose to greet her, looking to the clerk just as any regular business meeting, particularly as the man was not alone.

"Mrs. Adams, nice to meet you, this is Miss Annabelle Collen, my assistant." The young, attractive girl shook Kate's hand, smiling warmly. "Please take a seat, we were just finishing here," Turning back to Annabelle, he continued, "so if you get those off today, make the arrangements to see Campsec in the morning and we're all up to date."

"Yes Sir." She replied, collecting her papers together, and, after putting them in her case, she stood and left. More questions answered for Kate, and relief that the girl was not to be involved. Was she even aware of Kate's role, the reason for her being here?

"Sorry about that, but we must all make a living. Would you like a drink or any other refreshment?" Kate wondered if there had been some sort of mistake here. Was this man a member of Oakham? Or had she been called here for reasons other than those she expected?

"No thank you I'm fine."

"Right, we can go to the room then." Surprisingly the statement put Kate at ease. 

Once in the lift she managed to sneak a better look at the man. Early fifties, greying hair, tallish, well dressed, the typical businessman as could be seen in numerous hotels across the capitol. The room was well appointed, large, with a seating area as well as the bed. There were no personal items to be seen, perhaps he was not staying here, only using the room for the afternoon.

"Take your dress off please," he said, getting straight to the point, "and stand in the middle, over there." After an unsure start, this was more like Kate had expected. Slowly she removed her cardigan, placing it over the back of the chair in front of the desk. Sliding the zip down the back of her dress she was aware of him standing, watching her every move. As the dress dropped to the floor she bent to retrieve it and placed it on the chair. He said nothing. As instructed she moved to the centre of the room. As always she felt the uncertainty of what to do with her arms. Every time she was made to stand naked she hoped to be told to put her hands behind her head, it took away the decision. With no instruction forthcoming she held them together, behind her back, resting on her buttocks. She stood still, in only her stockings and heels, facing away from him, wondering what he was doing. Then she heard him pour a drink. He came into view to her side, and then sat down on one of the sofas, sipping his drink and looking at her. 

After a few uneasy minutes, he rises, walks around her, admiring her body. Stroking the back of his fingers over her nipples he smiles when they harden, giving away her pleasure, embarrassing her.

"Kneel down." He moves over to the table putting down his drink. Standing in front of her once more he says, "take it out." She slides down the zip releasing him. "Suck it." She takes the rapidly hardening cock into her mouth and begins the task she has become very accustomed to performing. Once his arousal built he became more active, using her mouth to achieve his pleasure, she the passive vessel waiting to feel his release. It didn't come. He stopped using her, putting himself away.

"It's true; you're as good as I'd heard." He said, the compliment boosting her confidence. Kate remained where she was, she knew better than to move without permission, as he moved over to the other side of the room. She heard his muffled voice assuming him to be on the phone. She heard more drink being poured into the glass before he sat once again and watched her kneeling in front of him, near naked.

The knock on the door made her jump, if he opened it she'd be in full view of the hallway outside. The click of the lock confirmed her fears, the door opened.

"Ah, Annabelle, come in." The young girl entered the room and walked around Kate, observing her with indifference. What was she thinking looking at this naked woman, old enough to be her mother, exhibiting herself in a hotel room? There could be no doubt now that she knew why Kate was there, she was kneeling in the room in only her stockings and heels, probably with lipstick smudged around her mouth.

"I'm sure that Mr. Adams would like to see how his wife's behaving." Then, to Kate directly, "is your phone in your bag?"

"Yes Sir." Annabelle took the phone from Kate's bag, used it to take a photograph of her kneeling in the centre of the room, and sent it to Richard.

"You can prepare her now Annabelle." Unsure of his meaning Kate remained still, waiting. Annabelle opened her case before returning to Kate.

"Kneel forward, put your head on the floor and part your knees." Doing so made Kate's backside stick up in the air and her moist sex open. Anabelle removed the top from a tube and spread cool lubricant around Kate's small tight hole, her thin fingers slowly moving in and out widening the passage.

"Is she ready?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good, open her then." What did that mean? Annabelle stood up, pulled down the zip and removed her skirt. She wore no panties, her beautifully shaped long legs emphasised by the sheer black tights, contrasting with her white blouse. Throughout, she showed no reaction to her orders, she just carried them out. Returning to her case she removed a life sized black plastic cock, strapped it around her slim waist, pulling and securing the second strap between her legs before approaching Kate, kneeling behind her. Kate felt the cool plastic moments before it eased into her tight passage. It felt good, smooth and stiff, filling her. Annabelle slowly moved back and forth, stretching, easing the way for her boss. Kate caught sight of Mr. Macey taking another photograph before sending it to Richard.

"He'll be so proud." He commented as he pressed 'send'. Whether that was a sarcastic comment or a compliment Kate would never know.

"She's ready Sir." He put the phone back into Kate's bag and walked over to the two women. With no instructions issued, Annabelle undid the zip on his trousers and took him out, then used her mouth to get him stiff and ready. Kneeling behind Kate, she felt his hand on her back steadying himself and Annabelle's fingers holding him, guiding him into her. Pushing hard he slid in, her small opening swallowing the full length in one thrust. 

Temporarily superfluous to their needs, Annabelle stood, and moved to sit in the sofa directly in front of Kate. With other seating available Kate saw the relevance of her choice. Leaning back, legs crossed and arms casually hanging over the side, she sat and watched, her long nylon clad legs in full view as Kate took the pounding from behind.

He didn't take long to reach his climax, Kate feeling the thick fluid shoot inside her. Annabelle stood, moved to kneel down beside him and waited for him to withdraw. Once again she reacted without instruction. Was she a slave like her, Kate wondered, she didn't wear panties or bra and seemed well trained. Bending down to where the rapidly deflating cock rested on Kate's backside she started licking, not rising again until both of them were thoroughly cleansed, consuming all trace of their mixed fluids.

As he stood and adjusted his clothing Annabelle put on her skirt, then went over to the mirror and refreshed her lipstick, once again looking the efficient business assistant. Kate remained where she was, no instruction to move having been issued. As they move toward the door he addresses her.

"Thank you Mrs. Adams, you were as good as they promised. Please feel free to leave or use the room as you wish." 

Being a true gentleman he stood to one side allowing Annabelle to pass through the door first. The act impressed Kate, the girl had just used her mouth to clean his cock and Kate's rear entrance, now he was showing her respect and courtesy, she admired that.

Once they had left Kate slowly rose from her kneeling position, taking a few minutes to use her legs properly once more. As Richard would have left long ago she decided to shower there and even watched some early evening television before leaving. On her way through the reception area, Mark, the desk clerk, smiled as he said goodbye. Did he know what went on with this man? Was it common for women to arrive here to meet him? Them? She didn't care, she was proud to be wanted for their use. She walked home sore, smug and pleased with herself.

43

Having her presence at the Boardroom decreed by Oakham became a source of elation to Kate. When checking the schedule on her profile she hoped to see her name highlighted, demanding her attendance for further service. Never a hint of boredom or familiarity crossed her mind, likening the experience to that of runners and those addicted to working out in the gym, the more she experienced it the more she needed it. She loved the disparity between the two aspects of her life. Kate the respectable wife, the successful gallery owner, the perfect hostess at dinner parties, obliged to become Kate the slave, freed of daily responsibilities and demands, her only expectation to endure humiliation and pain. 

To be in the company of similar girls and women proved to be a novel experience she never tired of. After spending so long feeling alone with these needs, to now be surrounded by like-minded others was like discovering unknown relatives. Pleased also to learn that this group of allies were so typical of those met in daily life. They were mothers, wives, city workers and girlfriends for most of the time, then, when called, they willingly reported to the Boardroom to become sex slaves for the use of unknown strangers. Fortunately for them, their partners approving of, and supporting, their desire to be controlled and demeaned in order to live out their fantasies. These were the lucky ones, how many others from the list of 'normal' women out there would love to be free to enjoy giving themselves to be used as they were? There have to be far more than would care to admit to it. 

Kate's duties mainly centred around the dining and bar areas, serving food and drink to the never ending stream of members the club attracted. The constant groping and manhandling she experienced elevated the task, raising it from mundane toil. Regularly, she would be interrupted from completing what she was doing by a member making use of her. Often used roughly and with no care or consideration of her needs, she would be taken. Once satisfied they usually pulled out of her and sent her on her way. She left, knowing that she could feel, and others see, the warm sperm trickling down her legs.

Having her body on display is something she would never get comfortable with. Having her breasts out and her nipples exposed while walking through a crowded room is so alien to how normal people behave. Having the hair removed from her sex to display her most private parts reduces her dignity to an even lower level. Being near naked in front of the women members she finds a lot harder to bear. She expects the men to look, admire, taunt or even ridicule but the women she feels are judging, comparing and belittling, always reminding her of Janet and what she would make of her disgraceful behaviour.

The more impersonal her treatment, the more offensive and cheapening, the stronger the feelings of humiliation and therefore the bigger the turn on. She could think of no other non-sexual activity which could be substituted and achieve the same result. They could be achieved to some extent through activities with no physical contact, but still with a strong sexual element. She cast her mind back to the time Colonel Mason had her cross London, naked beneath her short coat. The sexual thrill was there even when she was alone. Women were often humiliated at the Boardroom with no direct contact. Partners reprimanding a slave in public for poor service or a misdemeanour could be most effective. A common sight at the club is the slave standing with her legs apart and hands behind her head, the intimate parts of her body open. No form of bondage apart from her willpower forcing her to remain there on display to anybody passing. The same outcome, the humiliation, can be achieved in any number of ways.

Kate knows why they do it, for the freedom it offers. Everyday life, normal life is hard work, there's so much to cause stress. Maintaining our self-image is essential, if hundreds of women's magazines are to be believed. Considering the opinions of others seems to be thought of as crucial to our happiness and adhering to the values and standards of an ever more demanding society essential if we're not to be seen as different. Offering herself as a slave freed her from these demands. She and the other slaves she'd met were not victims in any sense; none used it as a release from poor relationships poverty or boredom. Indeed most were successful, from wealthy, favoured backgrounds; well-educated, attractive and sensible. These women seemed to relish the break from having to maintain the persona of the successful person they were, they needed a rest from being relied upon, and enjoyed some dirty sex as an added bonus.

Yes, Kate confirmed, this is what she wants and is desperate to maintain, whatever it may bring to her or want from her. The benefits are already evident. Always in her mind is the excitement of the unknown, anticipating what her next assignment might require from her. 




Seventy Three Pt. 04



Restitution

53

Sunday 25th May.

Kate woke to the sound of Oscar's purring. Golden light flooding in through the windows suggested a late hour and a glance at the bedside clock confirmed her supposition. Although feeling much better in herself, Kate reluctantly left the bed in desperate need of a visit to the bathroom. In the early hours of the morning her need to sleep eventually triumphed over her active mind. Attempting to remember back to the events of last night seemed like trying to capture that elusive dream, knowing its subject matter but unable to pinpoint any detail. Was the whole episode a dream, a nightmare? She hoped so. The first tentative look in the mirror confirmed the reality. Surely dreams don't leave puffy red eyes, and swollen lips.

There was something about the smell of hot coffee which always lifted her spirits, and the speed at which she ate the bowl of muesli reminded of how little she'd eaten yesterday. Relaxing with her second cup of coffee gave her time to consider the implications of the previous evening. What would happen now? She knew it was too late to change the events; they're in the past, fixed in history. His sneering face comes to mind. The bastard. The whole thing was personal from Lloyd; he just wanted to make her give in, to beat her. He didn't even want to use her, just humiliate her and debase her. In her opinion he'd taken things to a new level, outside of the humiliation of a slave. The bastard. What will happen to her now? She knew she'd be punished, but how severely? She could take it, whatever it was. 

What had she done? She'd broken rule number one, the only rule. Shit, how stupid was that. She'd refused to let people use her body, and technically it wasn't even hers, she'd signed it over to Oakham. Perhaps her punishment would turn out to be a good thing; a severe beating would leave marks to be proud of, necessary evidence of her desire to reestablish her slavery. Last time, when Richard turned informer and handed her over to the colonel it worked out well. That experience did her good, perhaps this will as well.

Unable to draw any conclusions from her jumbled thoughts, Kate returned to the starting point. She could take the beating she knew was inevitable, but what form would it take? This was a much greater transgression than last time; could the beating increase by the same proportion? She'd be more than happy to pay the price and move on but, of far greater importance, what of letting people down? Not Lloyd, he's a git. But she'd let down Richard, Oakham, the colonel and herself. Her body would heal after the punishment, but she'll always be left with the guilt of disappointing them all. But surely they'll all see the unfairness of her treatment, Richard will, he loves her. Why didn't she just do it at the time?

Kate spent a long time trying to convince herself that all would be OK. She was sure they'd take all the issues into account. She'd shown that she was different, that she'd broken away from socially acceptable behaviour and she'd always obeyed orders. It was Lloyd who was out of line, not her.

For years she'd hidden her dirty thoughts, her slave fantasies: being sold at auction, being thrashed, being treated badly, she'd kept them all private. Of course she felt guilty for having the thoughts but they were useful material for when she masturbated. The ironic thing now was that she felt guilty for having normal thoughts, she felt guilty for doing what most people would consider the right thing in that situation. What a turn around.

The day dragged, and even though she finally got around to all those long neglected domestic chores, they still failed to take her mind off things. The long walk was pleasant enough, but still failed to help her draw any comfort. She knew there was only one course of action; to wait.

Monday 26th May.

The telephone rang. Kate froze. Who is it? What would she say if it were Graham Weston? All the speeches she'd practised deserted her.

"Hello."

"Kate, it's me."

"Oh Richard, thank god." What should she say? Does he know? Should she tell him?

"I've heard Kate, Graham called this morning."

"Oh."

"What were you thinking? You know you can't do that; walk out."

"I know that, but there was more to it than there seems. Lloyd was a shit. It wasn't a slave thing."

"But why did you refuse?"

"That man they had... he was disgusting, and I wasn't feeling well and... well what if he'd been on drugs or he had something, some disease?"

"Kate, they were challenging you, he'd been with them all day, he was tested in the morning. You know they wouldn't do anything to endanger you like that," Shit, shit, shit, she thought, she should have trusted, "He was just filthy. They fed him and gave him a day to remember."

"I think he'll remember it alright, I will. So what happens now?"

"I don't know." He's not shouting or telling her off, but Kate can hear the disappointment in his voice, she's let him down. She feels the tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Look, I'll be back on Wednesday and we'll decide what to do then, OK?"

"OK."

"I've got to go now, I'm due in a meeting, I'll see you Wednesday alright? Bye."

"Bye."

He put the phone down. He put the phone down without saying he loved her, he always told her he loved her. The tears flowed. She hated that she seemed to have done nothing but cry since Saturday night. Why was this all her fault? Look at all she'd done, all she'd put up with, had done to her, and now just one mistake and she felt like shit. It wasn't fair.

As soon as she walked into the gallery Helen knew there was a problem.

"Kate, what on earth's happened, look at you?" She couldn't form sensible words. Her outstretched arms seemed to be the only method of communicating her distress. Helen locked the door and hugged her. After a few minutes Kate started to control her sobbing.

"I'm sorry; I've done nothing but cry lately."

"What's happened? Tell me."

"It's all gone wrong, just like you said it would."

"Come on, let's go in the back and you tell me." Two cups of tea later and Helen had heard the full story.

"That sod was always bad news, now look what he's done. I could kill him."

"Whatever he's done doesn't seem to matter now, it's me who's got to pick up the pieces, not him."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, Richards not back 'till Wednesday and I haven't heard anything from anybody at Oakham."

"I know what you should do. I'll look after things here and you go and see Elizabeth, she'll understand." Kate couldn't hide the look of surprise on her face.

"How do you know about Elizabeth?"

"Oh Kate, I'm not stupid. I can put two and two together. Those meetings at the coffee shop couldn't all have been about her artwork. Go and give her a call, now." Helen passed her the phone and went to open up the front door.

"Well, what did she say?"

"She's here in town; I'm going to meet her in an hour. Will you be OK here?"

"Of course I will."

"I'd better go and sort myself out. Judging by your reaction to seeing me, I must look like shit."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, but you might try a little work on the eyes." Kate smiled for the first time in days.

"I'll see what I can do." 

After fixing her face as best she could, she returned to the gallery.

"That's much better, the old Kate. Look don't worry, it'll all be sorted out."

"Thanks Helen, you're a real pal." 

The warm embrace conveyed her gratitude. At least Helen still loved her.

Over a large coffee, Kate relayed the events of Saturday night to Elizabeth.

"But why didn't you just do it Kate, however horrible it would have been?"

"It wasn't the thing itself that was just the final straw. I had a splitting headache, and I'd laddered my last stocking, then there were the road works making me late. It just sort of all built up. Then when it turned out to be Sebastian bloody Lloyd, well..."

"The problem here is that the circumstances don't change things; as they'll see it. You walked out on an assignment."

"I know but..."

"There is no but, Kate. We're slaves, always slaves, that doesn't stop when we don't feel like it, our feelings are immaterial. We don't play at being slaves when we want to; we're always slaves, always at the beck and call of others." Kate looked away, taking in what she'd said, knowing it to be the truth.

"I'm sorry Kate; I didn't mean it to sound so unsympathetic."

"I know, and you're right."

"I can see that it was a personal thing and he was in the wrong, so others will be able to as well."

"But besides that, the tramp was disgusting, he smelt awful."

"But that's not the point, is it. This isn't all handsome blokes in dinner suits you know. If it was it wouldn't satisfy that need you have to submit, your craving for meeting a challenge, it would be too easy. It would just be sex. No, picking and choosing would be too easy."

"I can see that now, now that it's too late."

"You should have been grateful."

"What?"

"You should have been grateful. You were given a real challenge, an opportunity to really submit and you failed to live up to it." 

Why can other people make her see things so clearly? Elizabeth's right, she's failed herself, failed to pursue the very thing she set out to achieve, her submission.

"But what now? I've given them everything so far, all the pain, my dignity, the lot."

"That's not what you wanted though is it, the pain and the degradation, you want to please, make them proud, show what a good slave you can be. The pain and humiliation are only the means to do that, the way to get what you want. The harder the challenge, the closer you get to achieving that dream."

"I know what I've done, I need to know what to do about it, how to put things right."

"I think the only thing you can do is go and see Graham Weston, make him see how you feel, that you know what you've done." 

Kate knew that Elizabeth was right. That's what she'd have to do.

The evening had passed slowly, Kate felt lonely and miserable. Unable to concentrate on her book she tried to watch some television. How she was feeling made the offerings seem even more banal than usual. The only break from her gloom came in the form of a phone call; Helen checking that she was OK. What would she do without Helen? They spoke for a long while, lifting Kate's spirits. Helen agreed with Elizabeth, she should go to see Graham Weston. He knew what had happened, Richard said so, but there had been no contact. Neither of them could offer a plausible reason why. They both agreed, she would go tomorrow, first thing, Helen would sort out things at the gallery.

Tuesday 27th May.

Trying to show a degree of confidence she didn't feel, Kate entered the Oakham office. Her frequent visits here counted for nothing, today she felt nervous, a stranger amongst the familiar. Grace rose from her desk looking uneasy, her greeting more formal than warm.

"I've come to see Mr. Weston."

"I'm sorry; he's not in the office." The flicking of her eyes and her hesitant voice told Kate that the reality may be different. She had to sort something today; she couldn't let this drag on any longer.

"I'll wait then, if that's OK?"

"As you wish."

Two hours passed, people came and went, mainly to the other offices upstairs. Nobody went in or out from Weston's office. Kate's mind ran through the fateful events for the umpteenth time. How she longed for Weston to emerge from his office to tell her she was to be severely beaten, oh what joy those words would bring. But nothing happened. She just sat and waited. As the morning turned to afternoon Grace brought her coffee and biscuits.

"He's really not here Kate, you'd be better to go home."

"I've been at home stewing over this for three days, I need to sort things out."

"I know, but I don't know what else to suggest." Her sympathetic look persuaded Kate to give up her vigil, beaten once again she left the office. Rather than return to the gallery she spent a large portion of the afternoon in the coffee shop, thinking, contemplating and regretting. She pictured Lloyd's smug face revelling in his victory. She had to do something. The only possibility which presented itself was to contact Oakham through her profile on the website. Why hadn't she done that before? It now seemed the obvious course of action.

As soon as Oscar had been fed Kate turned on her laptop and logged onto her profile. Password incorrect the new window informed her. Three more attempts convinced her that there was no mistake on her part. She'd been closed out of her profile. She was an outcast, ostracised by the group. She'd committed the gravest error and was now paying the price. Never had she felt so alone. She realised now that her expulsion was not the result of refusing to suck the tramp, it came for refusing to obey.

The human reaction of self-defence took over. She didn't need them. She could do without them, without being beaten and abused, she could go back to her old life, she'd choose when to have sex, and when to say no. Sod the lot of them. Her first act of defiance sprang to mind. Rushing upstairs she searched through the wardrobe in the spare bedroom. There they were; her black tailored trousers. I can wear trousers if I bloody well like, and underwear. She found out some panties and a bra. Pleased that the trousers fit well, 10 months after they were last worn, she returned downstairs to prepare a light snack. After forcing down the ham sandwich she went back to the bedroom and undressed. The underwear and trousers just felt wrong, uncomfortable, enclosing. Who was she trying to kid? She doesn't want her old life back, or want to choose, she wants to be told. In desperation she sent an Email to Weston, no password needed, she knew the address of by heart. She had pleaded before, most often to avoid more punishment, but this was genuine cold light of day pleading. She would do anything, accept any punishment if only they would give her one more chance and take her back into the group. Any punishment of theirs meant nothing to her, she was living her real punishment; her rejection.

The night followed the same pattern as the previous three; in bed, alone and crying.

Wednesday 28th May.

"Kate, Elizabeth's here," Helen called upstairs where she was tidying the storeroom, "shall I send her up?"

"No, I'm done here I'll be down in a minute."

"How's she doing today?" Elizabeth asked, unsure of how much Helen knew.

"She's OK, stronger than we give her credit for. Not right though, she'd never normally have cleaned up that storeroom."

"Wanting to keep busy I suppose." Elizabeth stopped talking as she heard Kate enter.

"Hi, Elizabeth, sorry about that. Doing a bit of sorting out."

"I'll leave you to it then." Helen offered, walking to the front of the gallery.

"No need Helen." Kate turned to Elizabeth. "Helen knows the whole story, she's been great. I fancy a coffee break anyway; shall we go round the corner?"

"You two go, I'll look after things here, I'll see you later Kate."

Stirring her steaming coffee, Elizabeth asked what progress Kate had made.

"Did you go to see Mr. Weston?"

"I went, but I didn't see him, I waited, for ages actually, but he didn't show. Perhaps he really wasn't there, I don't know. I sent an Email last night but got no reply from that either."

"They have to say or do something, one way or the other."

"I thought about what you said, on Monday, and you were right."

"Right about what exactly?"

"That I'd been looking at this whole thing in the wrong way, and what I wanted from it."

"And what have you concluded?"

"That I'd been living under the illusion that it was all set up for me, to satisfy my own kinky needs and selfish cravings. I set out wanting to be submissive, to serve other people, but I've ended up being the powerful one, thinking these people are doing this for me, to satisfy my need to be humiliated not to satisfy their own desire to be in control. My God, I even wanted Richard to change for me, to fit in with my pleasure."

"You're being a bit hard on yourself..."

"No, I'm not, I've been selfish. Richard couldn't beat me but I looked for ways to urge him on, get him to be stronger with me. Even at the Boardroom, I loved it, having those people wanting to use me, do things with me, but not for their pleasure, to satisfy me. I was the one in control; they were all helping me get my thrills."

"It's not like that Kate; don't beat yourself up over this."

"But it was like that and now I've blown it, lost my chance to put things right. That saying was right you know: you don't know what you've got 'till it's gone."

"I'm sure it can still be sorted. When's Richard back?"

"Tomorrow, but I don't know what he can do, if anything. I suppose I've learnt that they were in total control after all. As well as us, they also have the power to say no, and in this case they have. And now I'm powerless to reverse it, all I can do is keep begging for another chance. And I'm prepared to do that, anything to get back what's been taken from me."

"You have to keep at it Kate, I'm sure it can be worked out."

"Thanks, I hope so."

54

The traffic seemed to be fairly light for a Friday morning, easing the tension for Kate.

"How did you set this up"?

"I went to see Graham on my way back from the airport yesterday."

"You're so good; I couldn't even get through the door."

"I can't promise anything will come of it, but we can give it a try."

"I don't deserve you, you know, I'm sorry for letting you down."

"I know, and we've been through all that, let's move on and see what we can do." Kate sat back and watched the city passing by. Grateful for this chance to even attempt an explanation of her failing, she swore to herself that any offer of retribution would be seized with pleasure.

Arriving with some time to spare, they weren't invited to go straight through; instead, Grace asked them to wait in the reception area. Choosing to take the hard upright chairs closer to the office rather than the more comfortable sofa, Kate sat, knees together, fingers curled into tight fists resting on her lap. She hoped her impatience was not obvious. Her mind was drawn back to the first time they sat here waiting, before Grace stood and watched her suck Eric, and how much had happened since. During the fifteen minute wait, as she watched Grace devote herself to her work, Kate's nervousness increased. Was that the whole point? Was the purpose of the wait to make a statement? Thankfully there was no more time to worry about that one, the buzzer made her jump, and then it made her heart race.

"Mr. Weston will see you now, if you'd like to go through." Said Grace holding the door open for them.

"Thank you." Kate caught her eye as she passed. There was no smile but a barely noticeable nod. What did that mean? Was that good or just her being polite?

"Hello Richard, nice to see you again," Weston said, smiling, as he rose from his desk, "Catherine." Her one word greeting made her fearful. The atmosphere was not one of reconciliation.

"What can I do for you?" He knows very well what he can do for us, thought Kate, he just wants to hear it out loud, rub salt into the wounds. Richard stepped in.

"I'd like you to consider taking Kate back into service with Oakham."

"But Richard, she broke the cardinal rule of the group."

"I know that, we both know that, but there were exceptional circumstances, I'm sure you'll agree."

"I did hear that there were personal issues at play in this case yes, but the fact is that she refused to obey, whatever the circumstances, that's unacceptable."

"I hear what you're saying and I totally understand, but until this unfortunate incident occurred you must have been pleased with her service." Kate sat in awe of Richard and his negotiating skills. He was putting the onus back on Weston, making him justify his decision to exclude her rather than them having to beg for her to be taken back, clever.




Seventy Three Pt. 04



"Kate was highly thought of and one of our best women, we both know that, but if we let this sort of incident go unpunished and relent, others will hear of it and choose to do the same, then where will we be?" Kate's heart lifted. There was hope. He was going to let her back, she was sure of it. 'If we let these sort of incidents go unpunished' he said, not: we can't accept them or won't tolerate them. It meant that there was a way out, taking the punishment was her way back, she was convinced.

"Is there any way in which this could be resolved to everybody's satisfaction, Kate being taken back and the seriousness of the offence getting through to others?" My hero, she thought, he's going to do it.

"Well, as you can imagine, this is not the first time this has happened, there have been three others in fact. In those cases we gave the ladies the opportunity to... how shall I put this... atone for their offence, at our residential facility in Surrey." Yes, yes, Yes. I'll do it, Kate thought trying not to show her joy.

"And what would that involve?" It doesn't matter thought Kate, just tell him I'll do it, don't blow it now.

"Oakham Manor is a country estate in Surrey which caters for the needs of people with differing requirements within the lifestyle, everything from mild humiliation to the most extreme perversions. We could send her there to... learn the error of her ways, but there are provisos."

"And what are they?"

"Well, undergoing the experience doesn't necessarily mean reinstatement into the group. What she gains from the experience would be far more important than enduring it. It's not just a punishment; that would be too easy."

"What do you think Kate?" Richard asked, bringing her into the discussion.

"I'm happy to do whatever it takes."

"Before you agree Catherine, you must consider what you are asking for, where you are now and what you want in the future and then decide if you want to be put through this. Make no mistake, it is a choice, but once chosen there's no resolution until we decide, one way or the other." Kate felt elated. How many times, through the years, had she used the fantasy of the cold damp cell, the hours of punishment, the constant beatings and the lack of mercy as material for her masturbation sessions? Surely she could endure that for real. Her euphoria was dispelled by one question from Richard.

"You said, 'one way or the other', what does that mean?"

"When we send the ladies there, under these circumstances, it's to test their suitability for a future with the group. What they do there and how they respond to the experience will indicate their suitability for a future with us. Enduring it is only one of the criteria for success. Of the three ladies I mentioned, two were not reinstated into the group." Kate's realisation that this is more than just enduring punishment does nothing to dampen her desire to be given a chance.

"So how long is it for?" Richard enquired.

"Until we see, one way or the other, that it's finished. There's no fixed time."

"Will you give Kate the chance?" Kate held her breath, waiting.

"Judging on past performance, yes." Joy, yes, yes. Oh, thank you, thank you.

"But, first she would have to agree, and then she'd be obligated, forced if necessary, to go through with it. Oakham's policy states that slaves can say no at any time, before an assignment," he added, looking directly at Kate, "but this is different. Once there that's it until we say otherwise. It's hard, severe even, and can be too much for some. You need to be certain it's what you want."

"That sounds very fair, I'm sure she'll decide wisely." There's no decision to be made thought Kate, I already know.

"Is this what you want Catherine, do you want to be given the chance?"

"I'll do anything to be given another chance, yes please, and thank you."

"When would this be?"

"Let's see..." Weston checks his diary, "oh yes, I'd forgotten that..." reminding himself of a personal note, "there are others going on June 2nd. She can join them. That's this Monday."

"That sounds ideal, Monday it is."

"Then she must be brought here on Monday afternoon, shall we say 5-o-clock?"

"Are you sure that you want this?" Richard asked as they drove home. "It doesn't sound easy."

"The past week has been the worst I can remember, total shit in fact, of course I want to do it, or at least be given the chance to do it. We don't know what it is, do we, what they're looking for?"

"No, but whatever it is, I'm sure you've got it." His smile told her that he loved her again. She wouldn't let him down. She would make amends.

Once home Kate couldn't wait to call Helen.

"Helen, guess what, I've been given another chance. They're letting me back."

"What just like that?"

"Well no, not quite." Kate told her the details.

"What will you have to do, or what will they do to you?"

"I don't know, it doesn't matter, I don't care. I didn't think I'd even get this far."

"Well done Kate, I'm happy for you, really happy. How long will it take?"

"Ah... that's the other reason I was calling, I don't know. Will you be alright with the gallery?"

"Of course, don't worry about that, it's no problem."

"The other thing is, if Richard's away could you look after Oscar for me?"

"Of course I can, just get him to ring me if he needs me."

"He can't use a phone Helen, he's a cat."

"No, I meant... Oh very funny Kate. I tell you what then; get Richard to call me.

"You're a star Helen, love you, bye."

55

Late afternoon on Monday, as they sat in the car before entering the Oakham offices, Richard asked one more time, even though he knew the answer.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course, are you sure you want me to?"

"You know I do, but you don't know what's involved, what they'll do."

"I don't have to, without it we'll lose what we had and it'll all be my fault."

"Kate you don't have to, we can always pick up as we were before, and this is a big step."

"I know, and that's why I have to do it. The only worry is that I don't know what they want, what they're looking for, so how do I know what to do?"

"Just be yourself. All you've been through should see you through it; they can't want anything else, surely. What else is there?"

"Come on then, let's do it."

Richard took her in. All looked normal apart from the young girl on the desk, standing in for Grace. She politely showed them into Weston's office, announcing them as Mr. and Mrs. Adams; perhaps she was unaware of the offices activities.

"Hello Richard, nice to see you. You've considered this well I hope, Catherine."

"Yes Sir I have, we have."

"And you give your consent to your treatment, without knowing what that will entail?"

"Yes Sir, I do."

"Very well then." Weston sounded sombre, almost sorry to have to do this. Would he have been pleased if she'd refused? "The transports ready, she may as well be on her way." An awkward moment ensues, with Richard, for once, unsure of what to do, he hesitates. Should he kiss her or not? Say goodbye or not? Weston senses his unease and grants them some privacy.

"I'll tell them she's ready." He leaves them alone for Richard to comfort her.

"It'll all be OK, and I'll see you soon. When it's sorted out we'll get back to where we were before."

"I love you, I'll be fine, don't worry." The hug and kiss calm her. Weston returns with Eric.

"Richard, we'll be in touch to keep you informed." He showed him out, shaking his hand.

"Take her to the Manor." Leading her from the office, Eric opens a door Kate had never noticed before. Passing through what looked like a storeroom he opened an outside door to reveal a courtyard half filled with a black van, an up market swish looking black van. Eric opened the rear doors.

"Take off your jacket and skirt." After complying, Kate stood in the warm summer air in only stockings heels and almost transparent blouse.

"Put your hands behind your back please." After tying her wrists securely he added a second cord above her elbows. The constriction felt good. Kate needed help to get into the back of the van before lying, as directed, on the hard black carpet. Eric secured her ankles and thighs with similar cords. The closing of the back doors left her in total darkness. The creaking of the gate hinges and the sound of the engine foretold of their departure.

The journey proved to be uncomfortable, very uncomfortable. Kate tried to imagine the journey from the changing sounds. The noises of the city and the constant stopping and starting seemed to go on forever. Car horns, motorcycle engines and sirens could be picked out above the general hustle and bustle. As the number of stops reduced she sensed the speed between them increase until the monotonous, rumbling drone led her to assume they were on a motorway.

Her mind drifted to her situation. Was she fearful or excited? Full of dread or anticipation? Perhaps dreading the 'treatment' but welcoming the result, as long as it resulted in a return to normal, whatever that was. She was eager to show them that she was worthy of another chance, that she could behave and do as she was told. She would obey, she had to. Her fear was real, she didn't know where she was going or who would be there, or what she would be subjected to until they decided it was over. Why was she prepared to put herself in this situation? That was easy, she needed to prove to them that their training was good and that she'd just had a bad day, that this was all just a setback. How impressed and proud would Richard be if she were to be declared a true slave to have undergone whatever it was and come out triumphant.

The general speed reduced, cars passed close by, moving in the opposite direction, they must have left the motorway. There were more bends and turns. Gravel crunched beneath the tyres before the van drew to a halt. The front door opened and closed moments before the rear doors opened filling the interior with light and the scent of freshly cut grass. Leaning in, Eric undid the cords on her legs before helping her out, supporting her until her legs began to function as normal. Dusk had begun to take over from the day; crows cawed in a row of tall trees. Turning around Kate saw the old house, the beautiful stone mullioned windows surrounded by ivy and the huge stone roof tiles above castellated bay windows. The well-tended gardens extended beyond the croquet set left on the front lawn, it was beautiful and all so English. 

Taking her by the arm, Eric led her through the Large, carved stone entrance and into a huge reception area. Her gaze was drawn upwards, following the dark oak staircase as it rose toward the exposed heavy oak roof timbers high above. She could imagine being booked into an upmarket hotel if she weren't standing with her arms tied behind her back, no skirt and only a transparent blouse over her stockings. The people moving through the area took little notice. The lady at the front desk knew Eric, greeting him warmly. 

"Seventy three" he said, as he gestured toward Kate. After referring to papers on her desk the lady nodded, signed Eric's clipboard and watched him leave. It was just like handing over a parcel thought Kate. Moving from behind the desk the lady led Kate through to an office where a man sat reading paperwork at his large oak desk. In his mid-forties, wearing his suit he looked like an organiser, the manager perhaps? After standing her in front of the desk the lady left. The man looked her up and down before speaking.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good, you're going to learn that slaves are supposed to please their owners, whatever the personal discomfort. They do that by being given rules to obey, which also need to be enforced. You were given only one rule, am I correct?"

"Yes Sir."

"And what did you do?"

"I broke it Sir."

"Correct and now you're here to face the consequences, physically and emotionally. If you break the rules you need to pay, but more than that you need to show promise for the future, get back into the group's good books. Retribution is needed."

"Yes Sir."

"You've already said you're willing to obey us or you wouldn't be here. You may come to regret that decision. Now you are here your obedience will be ensured, by force if necessary." Kate swallowed hard, as her heart raced, was that from fear or excitement?

"Do you want this or do you wish now that you hadn't agreed?"

"I want it Sir."

"Are you afraid?"

"Yes Sir." He nodded, but made no comment as he picked up the telephone.

"Seventy three's here... yes... Send somebody to collect her... yes... OK." He returned to studying his papers. Kate studied the room; it was beautifully restored, simple but tasteful. The knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, she lowered her head.

"Come in."

The woman was dressed all in black. The tight polo neck top, leggings and calf boots gave her a threatening look.

"Can you take her to the east wing please." The woman faced Kate, a look of sympathy on her face, adding to Kate's concern. What does the East Wing hold to get that reaction?

As they progressed from office to passageway then to corridor the surroundings became more functional, less opulent. Waiting in the scullery Kate smelt the damp musty air as she waited for the woman to unlock the door. Her heels clicked on the flagstones as they passed through to what appeared to be a former stable block with rough wooden walls and cobbled floors.

From a small room to one side, emerged two men and a woman, all dressed in a similar fashion to her escort.

"Seventy three, here for treatment," her escort announced, "finds it hard to obey rules."

"Does she now?" said one of the men, "we can help her with that. Take her clothes off." The other woman approached. Gripped the front of her blouse and ripped it open, buttons flying to the floor. Using scissors she cut the sleeves open to remove the garment, throwing the remains to one side.

"Take your shoes off." The woman picked them up and threw them with the blouse before cutting off the suspender belt and ripping off the stockings to leave Kate standing naked, cold and frightened.

"Stand over there," the woman said, pointing to the other side of the stable, "and then face this way." 

When Kate reached the position and turned she could no longer see the people in black, the bright spotlights blinding her. Her tied hands prevented her from shielding her eyes from the glare. She waited.

A split second after hearing the loud whoosh a powerful blast of ice cold water hit her. She cried out, not only from the shock but from the pain. This was no hosepipe; this was fireman stuff, the power knocking her backwards. As the onslaught continued she dropped to her knees. With no hands to protect her she lay on the hard cobbles trying to curl up in an effort to avoid the blast. Other jets started hitting her from new directions, the freezing water being aimed between her legs, and at her breasts and stomach as she squirmed around on the floor. The blasts stopped. One of the women poured a bucket of cold soapy water over her before the others used long handled brushes to scrub her tender flesh. Seeking out the areas between her legs, under her arms and the bottom of her feet increased the discomfort. As soon as the scrubbing ended Kate knew what to expect and braced herself for the icy water used to rinse away the soap. Crying out proved to be impossible as the water in her mouth prevented her from breathing. Her spluttering and sobbing continued. There was no escape. She had to lie there and accept the cruel treatment.

When the water stopped she lay motionless on the wet cobbles shivering and miserable. Footsteps approached. A hand grabbed her hair pulling her to her feet, the pain intense. Still blinded by the light she failed to see the hand which slapped her backside. The slaps continued, hard and fast before moving to her breasts which took similar punishment, not stopping until the flesh became warm and red. Unable to remove the wet hair sticking to her face she tried to shake it free. Her only thought was that she must look terrible. Hands guided her to the side of the room, forced her to sit and secured her wrists to a ring set into the bottom of the wall. There she sat, freezing cold; watching the people, wondering what would follow. This was going to be worse than she imagined. She thought of her warm bed, of Richard and Oscar, when would she see them again?

Voices broke into her thoughts, footsteps came nearer, the door opened, the staff brought in two new victims, their hands tied like hers. Kate sympathised as she watched them go through the same torture she herself had just undergone. The older of the two, perhaps somewhere near Kate's age, took it well. The younger one, little more than a girl, looked terrified. Once finished they were secured next to Kate.

"There's one more yet, she's just arrived," called a voice from the small room.

As Kate sat waiting she couldn't decide whether she felt better; if she was warming up, or whether she'd gone numb from the cold. She wondered what these others were doing here, what crime they'd committed. Perhaps they'd committed no crime, perhaps they'd been sent by partners. They may even be volunteers, here for the experience, perhaps it was their fantasy they were living out.

The waiting ended with the opening of the door. The voices gave away nothing, leaving Kate shocked to see grace enter. The shock turned to astonishment as she moved forward revealing her arms to be bound behind her. Grace was the fourth victim. Kate leaned forward to get a better look. In the dim light she could have made a mistake, was it somebody who looked like Grace? No, there was no mistake. She watched as the staff began the now familiar routine. When her clothes had been cut from her Kate looked at Grace's body. She'd always assumed her to be in her early fifties but she had the body of a woman in her late thirties, fit, almost athletic. Her breasts were not over large, but bigger than Kate assumed from only seeing her in office suits, and firm with large pert nipples. Her pubic area looked smooth like Kate's, her lips small almost hidden. The blasts of icy water had the same affect it had on the others, soon reducing her to a sobbing wreck on the cold floor, her hair plastered to her face. Kate found it difficult to comprehend the contrast between the immaculately dressed, efficient and composed office assistant and the soaked, crying and humiliated woman on the floor in front of her. After being pulled up by her hair Grace stood in the middle of the room waiting for the others to be released. Being taken to the back of the line enabled Kate to catch the eye of grace as they passed. Grace gave a half smile. Was that to comfort her or to tell Kate she was OK, or maybe it was just from embarrassment? It was soon gone as one of the men brought in chains, dropping a set in front of each woman. Their ankles were put in metal bands connected by a small length of chain before their hands were secured behind their backs with similar bands and chains. The neck collar felt cold, heavy and uncomfortable. The front of their bodies were left exposed with no way of covering themselves, they were led from the room.

Being led back through to the main house brought some comfort; the stable block conveyed a far more sinister impression as darkness fell. With the short chains restricting their movement the four women struggled to keep pace with the staff, resulting in frequent pushing and prodding. The main house now looked far busier than when Kate had arrived. In the long corridor, two young girls wearing aprons stood to one side as the four passed, whispering and nodding their heads. An elderly gentleman showed no hint of astonishment as four soaking wet, naked women passed him, their chains rattling as they went. Ushered into the same office as before the women stood before the manager, or was it warden?




Seventy Three Pt. 04



Sitting at his desk, elbows resting on the surface, fingers interlocked and thumbs under his chin the man silently looked along the line. After a few minutes he rose and spoke.

"You four are here for intensive training, sent here for varying reasons, but to achieve the same outcome. That is, to teach you a lesson you will remember for a very long time. People have a wide variety of needs, and here at Oakham Manor we endeavour to satisfy those needs. Some of our guests are weekender's wishing to experience different aspects of the lifestyle, some are sent here by their partners to learn obedience or to be taught certain sexual skills. Some are even single and come of their own free will to be humiliated and punished before returning, satisfied, to their lives and jobs, until the urge once again builds and they return. But not you four, you're here until we decide that you can leave."

The man walked along the back of the line as he spoke, unnerving Kate.

"The treatment you'll experience we base on the methods used in Victorian prisons. People like you, guilty of a crime, needed two things. The first was punishment; society needed its revenge, the guilty needed to suffer. Secondly they needed rehabilitation, made to see the error of their ways, to make sure that the crime was not repeated."

Moving round to the front of the line he handled the women, cupping breasts and groping between their legs. The younger girl pulled away as her nipple was twisted, earning her a slap across her face before the twisting was repeated, this time with no resistance.

"Spread your legs and bend forward."

The older woman hesitated, looking down the line, seeing if the others would obey. The vicious slap across her backside encouraged her to conform. The man worked his way down the line spreading buttocks, forcing fingers into openings, peering closely at their private parts. All intended, Kate assumed, to add to their humiliation. It worked.

"You'll be here for as long as it takes us to teach you that lesson or to send you away if we consider you to be unsuitable for a future with the group. Now you're here you have no option but to endure and suffer," he lifted the chin of the older woman, looking her in the eye, "and I promise you that you will."

He circled the line once more before continuing his dialogue.

"Your experience will most likely follow the usual pattern. To start with you'll need to be forced to obey orders." Picking on the young girl he pulled and twisted both nipples, whilst staring into her eyes. "Defiance will bring you pain. You'll learn to do as you're told. Now, you may think that you'll put up with it, but when the time comes you'll wish you hadn't agreed to come here. When you know what real pain feels like, you'll obey just to avoid any more of it. You'll do anything we say to avoid it; things you thought you'd never do, you will." 

He moved in front of Kate and placed his hand between her legs before pulling and twisting her lips until tears filled her eyes. She fought to remain still.

"After that, you'll want to obey, not out of fear of more pain, but because you want to. You need to satisfy your desire to submit, you'll even be pleased to debase yourselves at the whim of others. You'll humiliate yourselves in ways that you swore you would never do."

He moved back to stand in front of the older woman.

"Women like you think that you won't obey, that you're too proud to do these things, let me tell you, you will. You'll beg to be allowed to carry out orders. Women like you, the proud ones, just suffer more along the way, but we can wait until you're ready, you may take more time but the result will be the same."

He moved away from her to address the line in general.

"Agony and success or agony and sent away forever, the treatment is the same, take your pick."

This was Kate's dread, being sent away. How will she know if she's about to be sent away, she doesn't know what they want, what the criteria are. How will they know when they have a no hoper, what are the rules? Nobody's told them.

"During your stay you'll see a lot of these people," he gestures toward the staff in black, "to them, and indeed everybody else you come across, you are the lowest of the low. As such you will do whatever anybody tells you to do. These people, the caterers, gardeners, anybody, you'll obey them all. There are other guests staying here, for various reasons, do as they say. They'll use you and punish you, obey them."

He went over and spoke quietly to one of the staff, confirming something, judging by the agreement they reached.

With a clinking of chains they were led out, back through the reception area, and into the scullery. From there the cold stone steps descended to a damp, musty smelling cellar, the only contents of which seemed to be six metal framed beds with thin, hard looking mattresses and a single, coarse blanket. With no toilet break their neck collars were fixed, and padlocked, to the bed-head by a short length of chain. This was going to be a cold and miserable night.

When the staff left and the door at the top of the stairs closed, Kate turned to Grace, desperate to hear why she was here.

"Grace, what on earth are you doing here?"

"I was sent, like you."

"But I thought... well, I don't know what I thought really."

"Mr. Weston had already booked me here for this and then when Richard got him to give you another chance he thought it would be humiliating for me to send you at the same time."

"But why has he sent you at all, I thought you were his assistant."

"I am now, but I wasn't always; I was a slave just like you. Well not quite like you, I had a master, more like Elizabeth, but we weren't married. I'd had a variety of relationships, some worked out and others didn't."

"You were a slave? Incredible."

"I still am I suppose. The master I'd been with for about two years had to move abroad for professional reasons, to the Middle East in fact, and couldn't take me with him. I didn't want to go anyway; I had my flat and money from my contract with him...

"You'd sold yourself?"

"Yes, and at a good price for an old bird, I'll have you know," she laughed at herself, "anyway, he decided to put me into one of Oakham's auctions, pass me on to a new owner, which was fine with me."

"My god, you're so brave, it could have been anybody."

"I know, but it was exciting. Before the auction came up Mr. Weston called me in to see him. He'd seen my office background from the sheets, his assistant was leaving and he offered me the position."

"That's all very well but why are you here, now?"

"He sends me two or three times a year for some sort of 'refresher course' as he calls it. If I'm honest, I was getting a bit too old for the full time stuff anyway, and I didn't want to finish completely, I wouldn't ever want to do that."

"And you're OK with this then?"

"Oh yes, he says it's good for me to remember my background, and that it keeps me in line, and I enjoy it."

"Enjoy this?"

"Well not this particular thing, I've never done this before, heard about it though."

Grace said no more and changed the subject, perhaps she had no more details or perhaps she didn't want to worry Kate. At some late hour Kate must have eventually drifted off to sleep, still thinking about Grace and her slavery, full of admiration and respect.

56

With no natural light entering the cellar, Kate had no idea if it was morning or whether she had just woken early due to her body aching and the cellar's natural chill. Having her hands chained to the collar and the collar secured to the bed made moving into a comfortable position almost impossible. As the others stirred their moans and groans indicated similar problems. She knew her lack of sleep would do her no favours later in the day, she needed her sleep, but her more pressing problem was the need, the desperate need, to go to the toilet. They probably wanted them to wet themselves, adding to their humiliation, but so far all had held out.

The bare, single light bulb unexpectedly illuminated the cellar, moments before the door opened. Footsteps descending the stairs echoed around the cold stone walls. Releasing the padlocks freed their hands, allowing the women to sit upright and stretch their stiff limbs.

"Up the stairs and the first door to the right, back here in fifteen minutes." 

The four looked at each other, unsure of how to react to the brusque order. Grace made a move toward the stairs closely followed by the others. Through the door they found a bathroom. The room may have been sparse but it was a bathroom, heaven to the women. The two open toilets were put to immediate use; the two unfortunate women standing waiting became desperate for the first two to finish. Toothpaste and toothbrushes; soap and hair brushes were all supplied. Even the single cold tap above each sink seemed like a luxury. Conscious of the passing time, Kate rushed to prepare herself as quickly as possible before returning to stand by her bed. The young girl, the last to return, missed the deadline. As she approached her bed one man took hold of her long dark hair, pulling her down, he bent her over and held her in position while the other delivered a dozen cuts from the crop he carried. Kate and the others stood and watched as she cried, screamed and kicked. Kate felt strange, watching another being punished rather than experiencing it herself seemed quite alien to her.

"You'll be on time tomorrow, I guarantee it. You eat in the scullery, up you go."

The women climbed the stairs as fast as their chains would allow. Sitting on benches at the long, scrubbed oak table they ate breakfast; fresh fruit and as much porridge as they could eat, very good porridge Kate thought. As soon as they finished, one of the men barked out the next order.

"Stand." The speed of response from the attractive young girl made him smile. Having learnt the price of being slow to obey, she wasn't going to be caught out again.

"Into the yard, quickly."

Even at this early hour, the yard was in full sunshine. They welcomed the warmth which helped to restore their body heat back to normal. Standing in line once more, Kate took the opportunity to study her surroundings. Many people passed through the yard; often in aprons or overalls, some with tool belts, all going about their daily tasks. Others, in suits or dresses, stopped and watched. To her left she heard the clanking of pans and saw steam drifting from an extractor fan. Must be the kitchen area she thought, her conclusion confirmed on seeing the young man outside in the white top and checked trousers smoking a cigarette. He sat and watched the four ladies standing in a semi-circle, naked and chained. The staff member in black who walked in front of them dropped slip on shoes at their feet.

"Put them on, quickly."

Kate stood more upright and rigid as she saw the manager enter the yard. He started talking as he walked toward them.

"I hope you slept well, ladies," his sarcastic comment fell on deaf ears, "we do try to look after our guests."

When he reached a spot in front of the group he addressed them.

"Other slaves at Oakham work in the kitchens, as cleaners, chambermaids or in any other role we need them for. You ladies however are special. Just like your Victorian counterparts you've been allocated a regime of hard labour. To the rear of the house we're building a new access road. The work could be completed in a day with the use of a mechanical digger, or in as long as it takes with free labour from people like you. We've chosen the latter option. You'll work, and you'll work hard. The staff supervising you will make sure that you do."

As he moved behind the line he paused, stroking the buttocks of the young girl.

"I see you've already had a lesson today young lady. I wouldn't think you'll want too many more."

He continued.

"The staff will punish you severely for any slacking or talking." 

He watched the look of fear cross the young girls face. 

"Your chains will restrict your movements but not prevent your efforts."

As they walked from the yard, the chains dragged and the uncomfortable bands chaffed the skin. What would they be like at the end of the day? The short walk to the work place brought wheelbarrows, shovels and pickaxes into view. The staff allocated tasks and the ladies set to, digging, pushing heavy wheelbarrows and moving piles of gravel. The mindless labour needed to be attacked with seeming enthusiasm, any slacking being met with hard slashes from the single strand whips carried by the staff. Towards the middle of the morning Kate whispered to Grace.

"Phew, it's getting hot."

The slash of the whip across her back and the command to remain silent taught her, and the others, that the staff meant what they said. 

The only break in the routine came at lunchtime when they were taken back to the scullery to enjoy a bowl of what looked like stew. Kate assumed the look of the dish, lumps in liquid, was intended to be in keeping with the Victorian theme, it actually tasted good and there was enough of it.

Back out at the work site the afternoon passed with the same boredom and toil. There was no shortage of exposed skin for the hot sun to burn. By the time the day's work ended. Kate felt red, tired and miserable, her body covered in a layer of dirt and dust which stuck to her sweating skin. Lining up to be walked back to the stable block the others appeared to be in a similar condition. Exhaustion made the walk back far more of a trial than the walk out earlier in the day, constant prodding and whipping being used to keep up the pace. Walking behind Grace, Kate admired the way she coped with this ordeal, taking it all in her stride. Kate was here to pay for her mistake; Grace was here for no reason of her own making. Despite the facts, she made no mention of unfairness, no complaint of her unwarranted treatment, she just accepted. 

Kate thought of Richard, Helen and the gallery. All seemed a million miles away, part of another world. Should she be there with them, relaxing with a Gin and Tonic? No, she should be here paying for her mistake, she too felt no injustice.

Kneeling in line on the stable floor, hands cuffed behind their backs the women waited. Kate expected but dreaded what was to come.

"You're filthy and a disgrace, so unladylike, covered in dirt and sweat. Perhaps you'd like a shower."

She braced herself as the whoosh announced the imminent arrival of the blast of freezing water. With her body hot from the sun, the water felt even colder than earlier. With their skin tender from the sun the force of the water seemed more intense, sharper and stinging. The same routine followed; the cruel aiming of the jets on the intimate body parts, the soapy water followed by the scrubbing, and finally the ice cold water to rinse away the soap. Each part of the ritual was accompanied by the same screaming, writhing around on the hard cobbles and difficulty of breathing. The sobbing continued long after the water stopped.

"That's better, we can't have you looking a disgraceful mess in front of the guests can we."

57

Ritual at the Manor became everything, anticipation of the routine equated to punishment itself. The morning routine never varied, except the choice of who was to be beaten for an infraction of the rules, or for none at all, who knew. The daily work schedule continued, the digging, shifting and moving interrupted only by the discipline being meted out by the staff. Although it remained warm most days tended to be cloudy, removing the worry of sunburn. Surprisingly Kate felt good from the work, fitter, slimmer and more toned. People who pay to go to a gym should come here she thought, it's guaranteed to work and it's free.

The rehabilitation they'd spoken of, and which she expected to experience, still eluded her. Kate had formed the impression that she'd come here and be used, or perhaps taught, by an authority figure, somebody to look up to, similar to Colonel Mason, but so far no figure had appeared.

Following the hateful cleaning ritual, late afternoons at the Manor were filled with the use and punishment of slaves. Mostly they were not subjected to the same plan, often being taken to different locations within the Manor. Kate often ended up on public display in the reception area and made to stand on a small raised platform in the centre. Her hands bound together and pulled high above her head, restricted only by the pull on her ankles, secured to rings spaced widely on the base. This form of restraint had been used to hold her before during her training with Colonel Mason. The variation here involved the use of her hair to hold her head as high as possible, the painful strain on her hair making any movement impossible. When on display here, the manager told her, she was for the use of anybody who passed through. Staff, guests and even other slaves had free use of her body. She meant nothing to any of them.

Left there, hanging, day after day, freshly beaten following the morning's work, she attracted a lot of attention. People came to see her abused body, to admire the fresh welts, to pinch her nipples and open her sex, often forcing her smaller hole. Being here worried her, the people using her were inexperienced and through their ignorance could do her real harm. The fact could have eluded those in charge of her or they were aware of it but chose not to act on it. Either way, the outcome for her remained the same; she would remain here suffering until others chose to release her. The humiliation taught her that she was not the sex toy who required pleasuring as she had considered herself to be previously, but rather she was nothing more than an object, there for the amusement of these people.

The beatings she could take, she had been well trained, being on display in the foyer she found far more demeaning. She was nothing to these unknown people who carried out their tasks, continued with their daily lives, while she remained there, the object of their ridicule. Richard, Colonel Mason and Graham Weston all knew her, had trained her and had a vested interest in her. These were everyday people who she saw in cafes, coffee shops and offices. People she had paid little attention to or given much consideration to, they were just doing their job. Now however, these people had total control of her suffering and humiliation, with no regard for who she was or for what she felt. How things had turned around.

The busy reception area produced a constant stream of potential torturers, all keen to increase her suffering. Only the constantly present receptionist could appreciate the extent of her torment. Passers-by, male and female stopped to make her suffer. The nipples were a popular target, and most continued the twisting and pinching until tears formed in her eyes. The lips between her legs received equally cruel treatment, being pulled and stretched bringing about the same result. The probing of her holes made her sore, due to the lack of any lubricant.

Younger staff and visitors were often taught, by those with more experience and confidence, how to make her suffer. "Look at this" or "they hate it when you do this" they would say before showing them how to proceed. One young girl became fascinated with Kate's lips. She looked into Kate's eyes while pulling and twisting them so severely that she cried out in pain. Kate worried that the girl had done some damage, pain like that must have consequences. Unable to move her head she had no way of checking to find out. "Come on, we'd better get back to work," her friend said, and they left giggling, as though it was just a game to them, that Kate was there for no other purpose than for their entertainment.

The manager came by often, checking with the receptionist and making sure that Kate was being used enough.




Seventy Three



"Yes" After the initial shock this was sounding much better to Richard.

"Well, I always held back when you got me to tell you mine."

"That's OK darling, I forgive you." Richard smiled patting the back of her hand on the table. Kate smiled too and realised this was one of the things she loved about him; he could always make her feel comfortable. He knew just what to say in difficult situations to put people at ease. "But why would you hold back?"

"I was afraid, of what you might think of me, that I might say something that you would find disgusting and you would think less of me." This was not a revelation to Richard. He knew her well enough to know that during the fantasy sharing sessions she gave away more than she thought she did. He couldn't remember a time when he'd put a suggestion to her and she'd been horrified or turned it down with an absolute no, in fact most often there were follow up questions clarifying the details of the fantasy, and usually she added some variations.

"Kate, if I recall things correctly you've shared with me..." Richard tailed off his sentence due to the arrival of the waiter who enquired whether they would like more drink, coffee or anything else. They ordered two coffees and off he went.

"You've shared with me your fantasies of being had by your boss at work, exhibited in public, being raped, being gang-banged, lesbian sex and so on and so on. Have you now got another, beyond those, that you think will shock or disgust me?"

"When you put it like that, no." Richard was feeling a lot more comfortable with this now and felt able to open up himself.

"I also noted that most of your fantasies veered towards doing all those things because you were told to, or made to. Your boss was going to fire you if you didn't do it; your lesbian lover was blackmailing you and so on." It was true, most of the fantasies she'd shared involved her being given to a stranger for sex, to be controlled or dominated.

"Mm, it seems that you were taking it all in weren't you. I'll have to be more careful in the future."

"I'm not sure that I want you to be. But anyway what's the problem here, why have you brought this up now?"

"The problem was when we tried to put the fantasies into reality. You were great in giving it a go and trying to give me what I wanted. Remember? You told me off, even smacked my bum once." Kate stopped when she saw the coffees being brought to them and thought she saw a smirk on the waiters face. Could he have heard? "You were great at first, but then, when things got more difficult, you eased off and didn't make me go through with what you'd threatened."

"But I couldn't hurt you for real or be really rough with you, I love you"

"I know you do and that's the problem. I wanted you to force me to do those things, to make me. I wanted to be taken further; I wanted to be scared of what was to come. Instead I was left wanting more and needing more."

"I think I understand what you're saying but can we try to make it work?"

"You know I've had fantasies about being submissive for ages, as long as I can remember actually, as you seem to be well aware, apparently." She said smiling. "But you trying to mistreat me hasn't worked has it? Because you love me too much, you start to feel sorry for me and don't push me as I'd like. And don't get me wrong, I love you for that but I need the other as well, the threat, the fear of the unknown, and the unexpected."

"It's not that I don't want you to be treated like that, it's just that I couldn't bring myself to do it to you. I couldn't hurt you because I love you."

"I know you do darling, what I crave is the sort of treatment that would come from somebody who doesn't love me, who doesn't even care what I think about it."

"You are a dark horse aren't you? Look at all these people in here." He gestures around the restaurant. "The waiter already knows you like your bum smacked and the diners probably think you're the typical career woman and homemaker. They don't know, hell, I didn't know until now, what lies in the dark recesses of that beautiful mind. All those things you think about, and want to do."

"That's not quite right, I don't want to do them; it's more that I want to be made to do them. I don't want to agree to it, the thrill would be in doing what somebody else wanted me to do, made me do, to satisfy their needs."

"You've obviously thought about this a lot haven't you? Why haven't you brought it up until now?"

"Because I was scared that you'd think I was weird and not love me anymore."

After blurting out her inner thoughts and secrets she suddenly stops, afraid she has taken things too far. She held his hands across the table and looked into his eyes, waiting for the response she needed to judge his reaction. He slowly raised his eyes from their hands on the table and looked directly at her. She feared the worst.

"And you want more?"

"Yes"

"I want you to tell me, in detail, what you want. I want to be quite clear what we are discussing here. You started off this evening spilling out things you've kept secret for too long."

"Oh, Richard. You're not angry, ashamed of me, disgusted with me?"

"You're still the beautiful, loving, sweet and sexy wife you were when we came in here." His kind smile and tighter grip on her hands told her that all was well with them despite her confession. The relief must have been obvious to him. "All that's changed is that I now know that we can add to the list dirty and kinky. Now, as they say in the American films; "spill the beans punk; and don't hold back." 

Kate was elated. He'd listened to her little speech, not judged her in a negative way, and now given her free reign to spill out her needs and desires.

"I want to be made to do things, dirty things, things that I don't want to do so that it's a challenge. Things that humiliate me and please the person making me do them. I need to suffer to show that I'm being controlled and trying to please those controlling me. Does that sound really odd to you?"

"No, but what sort of things."

"I don't know, it doesn't really matter, I shouldn't know, that's the thrill; the not knowing. As long as they're humiliating things and things that embarrass me, the result will be the same. The thought of being made to do disgusting things is a real turn on."

"What sort of things would you be willing to do?"

"That would be up to whoever was controlling me. I wouldn't be able to refuse anything. That's the point. For example, you said in your fantasies that you would expose me to other men and get a thrill from showing me off to them. Would you really like to do that or was that just a fantasy?"

"Would you really want to expose yourself to other people?" 

"No, I don't want to, but I want to be made to. Kate tried to curb her obvious enthusiasm for what she was proposing. She didn't want to get this far and then scare him off. "I've disgusted you haven't I? You think I'm weird."

"You don't need to worry about that." He leaned across the table and gave her a long, tender kiss. "Besides, I couldn't boot you out, you're not safe to release into the community." 

"Richard." She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

It was time to leave. Richard left the table and went to settle the bill. During his absence Kate realised how lucky she was to have somebody in her life that loved her enough to understand her and was willing to support her in finding that special part of her which had been hidden inside for so long. 

"It's all settled, are you ready?" Kate got up, ready to leave. "This means a lot to you doesn't it."

"Yes it does."

Having talked for so long they hadn't realised how the evening had slipped away without them noticing. By the time they stepped out into the cool night air the neighbourhood was almost deserted. Kate slipped the woollen shawl around her bare shoulders. Richard, ever the gentleman, placed a protective arm around her and they set off for home. Holding her close was more meaningful to him than merely retaining body heat. He felt close to her; he was proud of her and wanted to show it. He was proud of the strength she'd shown in opening up in such a manner despite being aware of the possible consequences. It left him with slight feelings of guilt; he'd not done the same with her and confessed his desires. Maybe he was weaker, or was it that his needs weren't as strong as hers?

They both used the lull in the conversation to reflect on the evenings proceedings. Kate was relieved and happy. She'd confessed her desires; something which previously she found difficult to admit even to herself was now shared knowledge. This had moved it out into the open and therefore there was no going back. 

Richard's understanding of what the evening had revealed seemed clear to him but he still wanted to clarify and confirm. After all this was new to him, fresh information to process and act upon whereas Kate had obviously spent a lot of time churning over and developing her thoughts.

"So, let me just get this straight. You want to be controlled and comply with the wishes of somebody else. You want them to push you to do more outrageous things. You want your sex life to be controlled and if you fall short of what's required you want to be punished for failing, basically you want to be a sex slave. Is that right?" To hear it out in the open summarised like that, made Kate a little ashamed. 

"Yes, I want to move from fantasy to reality. I want to try these things for real."

"It's not that easy you know, it's not like deciding to join a singing group or the bridge club; how do you think you can achieve it?"

"I know that and the whole reason I've brought this up now is because an opportunity has come to light which could prove to be the solution."

"You have been a busy little girl haven't you?" 

"Actually, no, I haven't. This came up by chance I didn't go looking for it." Kate went on to explain. "You know Elizabeth, one of the artists from the gallery?"

"Yes, the one who does the weird stuff with the dark, almost abstract figures?" 

"That's not the best review she's ever had, but yes that's the one. Well, I went to her studio last week to see the stuff for her solo exhibition we're putting on in September. I hate to admit it but it was as you describe, but it's great. Anyway we got to talking about the work, her inspiration the meaning behind it and so on, and, to cut a very long story short, it turns out that she and Robin are into this whole thing. She belongs to him, in the way that we've been talking about."

"No! Really, Elizabeth? I've only met her a couple of times but, well, you wouldn't have guessed would you?" A grin came across his face. "But then, look at you. It seems you're not quite as straight laced as people imagine either."

"Richard, shut up." She pulled him closer as they walked.

"Anyway, they're part of this organisation that do this sort of stuff for real and might be able to get us an introduction."

"Who are they and what would that involve?" he asked thoughtfully.

"She didn't, or wouldn't, go into any detail, it's very private as you would imagine, but she did say that if we wanted to find out more in general terms we could go and see her and Robin." They walked on in thoughtful silence for a while until Richard broke the spell. 

"I don't think that you'll get this out of your mind and feel at ease with yourself until you've explored this will you? This has obviously been niggling away at you for a long time and I can't help you with it on my own. So I think you'd better arrange for us to see Elizabeth - the kinky artist."

"Richard don't say that." Kate scolded.

Richard was once again thinking of her needs and doing what he could to make her happy. Ironically it was the strongest thing they had together which was now holding them back; their love for each other. He couldn't give her what she wanted because he couldn't do to her, or make her do, the things she desired. He knew that he couldn't give her what she wanted without outside help from a source where love was taken out of the equation.

The following morning the bleeping of the 6.30am alarm woke Kate from her slumber. Both had slept surprisingly well considering the remarkable disclosures of Friday night. Perhaps the emotional turmoil was exhausting. Richard had to be away by 7.0 am and had already showered and made coffee for them both. As Kate had predicted, the usual routine was in operation except this time there was more closeness, an unspoken bond, more reluctance to separate. However, by 7.10 the taxi had been and whisked him away to the airport, leaving Kate to her own devices until Thursday when Richard was due to return. 

The text message she received the following day informed her of his safe arrival and he promised to call her on Skype when he had the chance.

The days passed depressingly slowly for Kate, waiting for his return and desperate to take the first step on their new and exciting adventure. Following her usual daily routine Kate completed another strenuous workout in the home gym and welcomed the refreshing shower she considered to be the reward for her efforts. The reward this morning was cut short by the electronic tune which she instantly recognised to be an incoming call on Skype.

"Richard... hang on... hang on... I'm coming." Grabbing her towelling bathrobe she sat at the laptop and clicked accept. The screen scrolled into life and the image of Richard appeared. "Richard, how are you?"

"Fine, fine, and you? Did you get up late?"

"No, I've just got out of the shower. Did my morning workout early, I'm in my bathrobe."

"Lovely, show us you're tits."

"Richard, don't be disgusting. What sort of woman do you think I am?" She said, in as prudish a manner as she could. "How's it going there? Did you sort out the manufacturing problem with the main circuit board? See I was listening the other night."

"Wow, I'm impressed. You were so nervous that I didn't think you heard any of it. We redesigned the board and made it fit to the original size, so the problem's sorted."

"So you'll be back on Thursday as planned?"

"Yes, did you get in touch and arrange anything with Elizabeth?"

"I did, yes"

"Did you manage to wait until the taxi had even gone round the corner before grabbing the phone to call her?"

"You know me so well don't you, smart arse."

"Well I thought I did but now I'm not so sure, but I'm learning."

"Ha, ha. They've invited us for dinner on Thursday evening that should be OK shouldn't it?"

"Yeah, I'm due to land at 10 in the morning so should be with you by lunchtime. Anyway, look I'll have to go, got to see these people in a few minutes. See you soon. Love you. Bye."

"Love you too. Oh, Richard..." She pulled open her robe and flashed her left boob to the camera. "Slut." Was all she heard as his picture disappeared from the screen. She smiled, pleased with herself.

5

Kate and Richard arrived at the modest detached house a little earlier than planned. Neither of them had been there before and knew little of the area so had left plenty of time to avoid being late. The door was answered almost immediately by a radiant Elizabeth, her red hair forming the perfect complement to her simple black dress and low heels. They exchanged greetings and Elizabeth showed them into the lounge where Robin waited to greet them. Kate had met him before of course but Richard had to be introduced. After accepting the offer of drinks they chatted for a while and were soon behaving as though they were old friends catching up with no mention of the primary purpose for their visit. During a natural lull in the conversation Robin broke the ice. "So you're here to find out about our lifestyle and to see whether or not it might be for you, I believe?"

"Well, yes I suppose so." said Richard. "But we wouldn't dream of invading your privacy."

"Oh, don't worry on that score; we're quite open in the right circumstances."

"Lizzy, why don't you give Richard and Kate your view of how we started?"

"Robin and I love our lifestyle. When we first met I was no prude but hadn't had much experience of sex and certainly nothing beyond what I would call conventional. I always knew there was something missing, but I didn't know what it was, until this gorgeous man started to show me how different things could be." She broke off from her dialogue and moved along the sofa a little to cuddle into Robin. 

"He showed me that there were other ways of getting satisfaction from a relationship in addition to the physical side. I always enjoyed that side anyway but realising, and acknowledging, my submissive nature has greatly enhanced what we already had. I've found what had always been there but I didn't realise it. What it was I wanted was to serve, to get pleasure from giving myself to Robin. Releasing it from inside me has made me so much more complete and I feel a freedom that I didn't have before. That sounds strange doesn't it, saying that being controlled by someone else gives me a feeling of freedom, but it's true. That's why I love him so much."

"It wasn't all plain sailing of course," added Robin, "you don't just decide to do it one day and that's that. There are ups and downs as there are in any relationship."

Elizabeth chipped in with; "I know he'll never go too far with me, physically or mentally. Sometimes there's pain of course but there's also lot's pleasure."

"So in practical terms," asked Richard "how did you start and then get to where you are now?"

"When I met Robin he spotted quite quickly what I hadn't been able to see myself, he saw my need to have somebody take control. He seemed to know what even I didn't know and he gradually guided me through the stages of learning the "art of submission." Even though I wanted him to take control of me I still found it hard to let go and tended to hold on to just a little bit of power and would be obstructive to show that I was still my own person. Of course he had to teach me otherwise, to show me that wasn't acceptable, and I received punishments which were quite severe when I was particularly bad."

"So you always do as he says whatever that is?" Kate asked.

"Oh no, don't get me wrong. Robin has spent a long time training me to be his submissive, and I've accepted that he's in complete control of my body and my sexual life. But in all other ways I'm independent, make my own decisions and run my own life. The lifestyle we've chosen hasn't held me back in any way, professionally or socially, in fact quite the opposite. I think I'm more confident and self-assured as a result. It takes a lot of strength and willpower to hand over the use of your body to the will of another. Of course I'm free to stop being his, I could say no. I am after all a free woman." After a slight pause they all smiled at the irony of her last statement.

"I'm sure you'd like to see a demonstration of her obedience, wouldn't you?" A horrified expression spread over Elizabeth's face. She had no idea of where this was going or what Robin had planned. Richard and Kate were lost for words and both sat with a dazed look on their face. "Ah you would I see. Elizabeth, come here." She slowly got to her feet and stood before him. "Take off your clothes." Kate immediately felt the embarrassment of her friend and interrupted the proceedings. 

"There's no need really.""

"I know there's no need Kate, but in this life style a lot of things are done without a need they're done because we want to. In this case I want to embarrass Elizabeth in front of you. She doesn't want to strip naked, and display her body to you but she does want to please me by obeying and please herself by satisfy her desire for humiliation. Isn't that so Elizabeth?"

"Yes Sir."

"Then continue." Elizabeth slowly slid the thin straps off her shoulders and eased the close fitting dress down her torso until it fell in a pool at her feet. She wore nothing underneath, had she anticipated something like this or was she just not allowed underwear? Elizabeth stood with feet slightly apart and her hands behind her back. It wasn't a natural pose to adopt and looked like the result of how she had been taught to stand under such circumstances. As she stood there proudly displayed in this manner, they both had to admire Elizabeth's body. Perhaps a couple of years older than Kate herself but her lean figure belied her years.




Seventy Three



"Darling come and sit by me" said Robin patting the sofa next to him. As she watched her sit, Kate became more curious about the training which had got Elizabeth to this level of obedience. The manner in which she moved and sat seemed to be second nature to her but was not normal female demeanour. She sat with her knees slightly parted and her hands on her thighs. Kate imagined that if she were made to sit in that pose she would find it impossible to resist the urge to cross one leg over the other and fold her arms over her breasts. She could only admire, and envy, Elizabeth's willpower.

"What are we thinking darling, neglecting our guests?" He turned to Kate and Richard. "You must be hungry, shall we go through?" They all moved to the dining room and took their seats at the immaculately laid table. Robin lit the candles in the central decoration then took responsibility for ensuring full wine glasses as Elizabeth served the meal, still in her naked state.

During the meal Robin continued the story. "About three years ago we heard, through some friends, of Oakham's existence. After some deliberation which I'm sure you're both experiencing now, we decided to apply for membership and the rest as they say, is history."

"But how does this group fit in with what you two have together?" asked Kate, "I mean it seems like you have the perfect setup with just the two of you."

"Yes that's so, but as with all things people have a need to push themselves, go faster, higher, farther. You know the sort of thing." Elizabeth continued. "I came to lust after the feelings I got when Robin used me. I wanted him to push me further and do more outrageous thinks with me and to me, the more disgusting the better. I relished the challenge of showing him that I could cope with whatever he came up with."

"You're smiling Richard," Robin observed, "Does that sound familiar?"

"I heard almost the same words spoken to me in an Italian Restaurant last week." He looked at Kate who just sat and blushed. 

"And that's the problem you see, it was harder than you'd think to be the dominant partner who's role included thinking up new situations and scenarios which would test her submission and satisfy her needs. She has to be presented with greater and greater challenges through which she can demonstrate her loyalty and obedience."

"And this society provides that, satisfies that need?" enquired Kate.

"Oh yes, most definitely, you see Elizabeth's a part time slave to the group and not permanently owned by them. I loan her to them on a regular basis and she obeys them as she would me. There are of course, severe consequences should I hear that her behaviour and service was anything less than exemplary. During the time she's on loan there are any number of creative minds dreaming up new ways to humiliate and degrade her, which is just what she needs, isn't it darling?"

"Yes sir." Elizabeth replied not looking up from the table.

Kate could feel her heart thumping away in her chest, convinced they were all able to hear. She also feared there would be signs of moisture on her dress when she stood up. This was what she'd hoped for and dreamed of.

"That sounds like a big step to take. But how do you feel about being used by other men, Elizabeth?" Kate put the question directly to her in order to avoid a response from Robin.

"When we first decided to join Oakham, I hadn't considered that being used by other people would enter into it. When the reality hit me I was horrified. I couldn't imagine even being naked in front of someone else let alone being used by them, being used for sex I mean. Robin handing me over to other people just seemed so final to me, that he didn't want me anymore, and that he was fed up with me, that he wanted a change. But I soon saw the reality of it. He loves the power of owning me and being able to let others use me and then take me back. I know it's hard for him to see me being abused and often in pain but the pride he feels overcomes that. He loves the looks of envy he gets from other members who have abused me as I'm ultimately returned to him, the owner. So the reality is that whatever I think about it doesn't matter. He's decided that I'll be used by others as part of my slavery and I've given him the right to decide that by agreeing to be his slave. Now I have no say in the matter, which is as it should be."

Richard tried to absorb what he was hearing. How would he cope if Kate were to be in Elizabeth's place? If she joined this group then surely the same rules would apply to them, Kate could be mistreated, hurt and sexually used by other people. Could she really do that, could she hand herself over to be treated in that way? If they went ahead, would he be needed at all? He couldn't "train" her as Robin had done with Elizabeth. He didn't know how, or have the mind-set to carry it out. Should he be putting an end to this now before he finds out how it develops?

"Robin, I hope you don't mind me pushing the point further but I have some deep concerns about the issue of Kate being with other men. How do you cope with it?"

"Yes, I know just what you mean, and I pondered the issue long and hard myself." Robin replied in a way which left Richard convinced that he had anticipated that this question would be asked. "In reply, let me ask you a question. Would you be against Kate joining a Badminton or Bridge club?"

"Well, of course not, no."

"Why not, she could meet somebody there and it drives a wedge between you two affecting your marriage."

"But she wouldn't, we're happy together and she wouldn't need to look elsewhere."

"Then you've answered your own question, just as I did mine. Lizzie being used at Oakham is no more, or less likely to cause a rift between us than any other activity, maybe less so as we do it together. In this case, I agree, the activity is based on sexual themes rather than sporting activity but this activity is the vehicle to achieve the desired goal not the goal itself."

"Yes, I can see what you mean, but..." Robin could see that he remained unconvinced, so he continued.

"For us, as we said, the goal is satisfying Lizzie's desire to be my submissive and for me, the pleasure of seeing her being used and abused by others, solely because that's what I want her to do."

"So the jealousy thing doesn't come into it then?" Asked Kate.

"At first it took some getting used to, of course, but, think about it logically. Would a husband get jealous of his wife's vibrator, just because it provided her with sexual satisfaction?" This brought a smile to their faces. "No, of course not, in our minds, the people using her are themselves being used, by us, for our own selfish reasons. They are just pawns in our game. If I order her to perform oral sex on another man, she'll do it because she's been ordered to, not because there's any desire for the person on the other end of her activity."

"I see what you mean."

"Richard, a woman doesn't have an affair between her legs; she has it in her head. If the activity between her legs is not emotionally attached to her brain then what provides the activity, and often pleasure, is of no consequence to her relationship. My initial thoughts of jealousy and wanting to tell the user to get away from my beautiful wife have now been replaced by thoughts of great pride. The urge now is resisting the urge to yell at them - isn't she beautiful; look how obedient she is; stare at her splendid body all you like because I know she loves me and I love her, and you can't have her. How many men have their love confirmed in such a forceful way on a regular basis?" Kate observed the look of devotion on Elizabeth's face as Robin got more impassioned during his speech.

"Perversely, I'm convinced that my decision to share Elizabeth with others has brought us closer together." As an afterthought he then added: "not that I would recommend that to others, in less stable relationships, in place of marriage counselling. God forbid, could you imagine that: "Doctor, my wife and I don't seem as close as we were; what can we do?" "Oh, just give her to some stranger for the night for a good shafting that should do the trick." Robin paused, acting out a look of thoughtfulness. "Hm, actually Lizzie, I think I would make a good marriage guidance councillor." The outburst of laughter seemed to suggest otherwise.

The responses from Robin and Elizabeth to their questions had gone a long way to easing the doubts Richard had held since hearing of Kate's wish to pursue this course of action. He had professed an eagerness to go along with it so far in the hope of a major obstacle emerging which would put an end to the proceedings. This would appease his doubts and fears without him having to step in to end things and forever be the bad guy who stopped Kate from realising her dream. But after tonight he was unsure if he wanted it to stop. Perhaps they should take it a bit further and see what happens; he can always be the bad guy later.

It was well past midnight by the time the evening drew to a close and Kate and Richard prepared to leave. 

"If you want to get in touch, please do so, you have our contact details. We're more than happy to answer any questions you may think of later." The men shake hands and Kate gives the still nude Elizabeth a hug.

"I'll call you tomorrow, OK?" Elizabeth tells her. Kate nods. With final thanks for the meal, their help and advice they depart.

In the taxi on the way home Kate asks Richard. "Would you use another man's wife if you were a member of that group?"

"I could do I suppose," he tried to reply casually, giving away nothing through the tone of his voice.

"And would you be turned on by watching somebody use me?"

"I could be I suppose, under the right circumstances."

"The idea doesn't horrify you then?"

"The idea doesn't, no, but when, and if, it actually happened, I don't know."

Kate had the information she was after so she left it there.

Elizabeth called early the following morning. Kate wondered how she would be after last night's ordeal of displaying herself, but, to her surprise, Elizabeth sounded quite normal and didn't mention it. Kate asked if everything was OK, and checked that she had no regrets. Elizabeth made light of her ordeal and they both soon turned to immature giggling.

"Anyway, enough of me, what have you two decided to do?"

"We talked a lot when we got back last night and decided that if we let this opportunity pass, we'd regret never knowing how it would all turn out."

"So that means you'll need an application form then?"

"Yes, I suppose so, but we don't even know who these people are."

"Nobody does until they have an application accepted, then you get to meet them. They value their privacy and they respect the privacy of their members. What I'll do is e-mail you a link to their on-line applications, read it all carefully and return it when you're happy."

"And that's it?" Kate asked, surprised that it was that straight forward.

"That's it, until you get accepted of course, then the hard bit starts."

"Right, hey, thanks for everything, and I'll see you Monday when you drop off those new paintings."

"No problem, bye"

6

The day at the gallery wouldn't pass quickly enough for Kate. Desperate to see the application, she had furtively logged onto her private e-mail account where the form sat waiting. She was impressed with the professional looking web page which housed it and had a quick scan through. The categories covered a much wider field than she expected, requesting some very personal information. But then, this wasn't an application for a standard career move. If her application proved to be satisfactory and she was accepted she'd better get accustomed to people invading her privacy. The unexpected return of Helen flustered her into closing the window in the guiltiest fashion. She and Richard would sort it out tonight.

"It's detailed isn't it?" Richard stated with some degree of panic.

"I know, I had a quick look this morning at the gallery. I'll get us both a drink and then we'll see what we can do. Gin and Tonic?"

"Yes please." 

As soon as she returned Richard was pleased to inform her that he had done the first bit.

"Really? Let's see." She sat next to him and peered at the screen. "Oh brilliant, Name - Catherine Adams. You idiot." 

"My father always said..."

"I know." She repeated the often used phrase in the usual mocking tone whilst rocking her head from side to side in perfect synchronisation with the words. "The hardest part of any job is making a start."

"And he was right. Now let's see..." The first section covered the usual application data, name, age, marital status, education, present employment etc. and was soon filled in. In the medical history section they divulged the partial hysterectomy Kate had undergone many years ago, long before meeting Richard. Whilst traumatic at the time, the physical condition passed more quickly than coming to terms with the knowledge that she would never bear children. One section came as a shock; sexual history. They had to state her sexual background.

"That's a bit personal," exclaimed Kate.

"For what you're applying for there is no personal." Richard reminded her.

"But what am I going to put? Met Richard got married and had sex? I'll look a right prude"

"Oh, Thanks."

"No, I didn't mean it like that, there's anything wrong with that. It's just that on an application for something like this, it... well it doesn't look very adventurous does it."

"I see what you mean. But look at it from another angle. If they get an application from somebody who's "been around a bit" and done all sorts of things they might think they're applying just for a giggle, or to broaden their experiences, with no real commitment. But from your background they'll know that if you're applying for this, it must mean a lot to you." Kate was thoughtful for a few seconds taking in Richard's assessment of the question.

"Yeah, you're right. Besides we can't lie and make up a load of stuff anyway."

A note on the end of the form asked for an up to date photograph. Ironically this turned out to be the most difficult part. Had this been an application for a position as an office worker, there would be no problem, attach a passport style portrait photo. But what do you attach to an application to become a sex slave? There were no clues on the form. No mention of clothing or nude? Full body or portrait? Face showing or not? The more they discussed the options the more convinced they became that this was an important decision to which there seemed to be no straight forward answer. Clothed and you were a prude; naked and you were brazen. Full body you were an exhibitionist; portrait and you were ashamed of your body. Eventually the decision was made to crop Kate out from a holiday snap taken in Rome the previous Easter. The tight fitting summer dress showed her figure, and the sunglasses hid her eyes. Richard attached the prepared photo.

"Right, that's it Mrs. Adams. All you have to do is click on the send button." Kate took the mouse from Richard and hovered the pointer over the blue rectangle containing the word send. But she didn't press.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Once we send it we can't get it back." Kate wanted that final confirmation.

"Yes, go on do it." He encouraged.

"No you do it... please. If I do it and it all goes wrong you'll blame me for applying."

"Well if I do it and it goes wrong you'll say I pushed you into it by applying." Realising the stupidity of the discussion they both laughed at themselves, and came up with the best compromise available. Toss a coin. Richard lost and clicked send.

7

Richard had spent most of Sunday helping Kate to move the heavy exhibition stands from the upstairs store room down into the gallery. They bolted the boards onto the supporting poles and decided on the perfect layout to show the work to best advantage. Despite the problems with the installation of the new lighting system they had to agree that it made a vast difference to the presentation of the artwork and, in the end, well worth the frustrating week spent with Harry and Keith. The main topic of conversation however, constantly reverted back to the application and its repercussions. They discussed the numerous paths it might lead them along. The endless "what ifs" were considered but they laid them to rest deciding that for now it was all out of their hands, but not their minds. 

Monday August 5th. Opening day. The strong morning sun began creeping around the tall buildings on the opposite side of the street as Kate unlocked the door of the gallery. She knew Helen would be pleased to see the boards already set up making redundant the task of hauling them all down the narrow staircase. As promised by the artists the artwork had all arrived before the weekend, leaving Kate and Helen with only the hanging and labelling. As was normal on the day of an opening reception, the gallery was closed to the public while the setup took place. The added benefit was that they were not restricted to specific business hours making it a pleasant break from the normal routine, and one which they both enjoyed. Within 10 minutes of Kate's opening Helen had arrived and was indeed pleased to see the hard work done.

"Kate, this is brilliant, I assume it was you and Richard?"

"Yeah, we did it yesterday."

"You should have rung me; I would have come and helped."

"We know you would, and that's why we didn't. I've left things to you a bit lately so it was my way of saying thanks." Helen gave her a warm hug.

"You're the best, but I'm supposed to do all the stuff around here. You employ me, remember? You're the boss."

"Well it doesn't seem like that, but, yeah, you're right, so get out there and make two cups of tea, and be quick about it."

"Yes sir." Helen gave a salute and went off to make the tea.

By midday all the pictures were in place, and it looked good.

"Kate, this label doesn't match this painting."

"Doesn't it? Oh sorry, I'll sort it out." She took the offending label over to the desk and sat down to print a replacement, Helen joined her.

"Kate are you alright? You've moved these pictures around endless times, you've said hardly anything all morning and now you're labelling them wrong, that's not like you."

"I'm sorry, there's nothing wrong, honestly, I'm just a little preoccupied that's all. I didn't mean to be rude."

"You're not rude, don't be silly, but this is Helen, your best friend, the one who knows when you have something on your mind. Do you want to tell me about it?"

This is what Kate had dreaded. She didn't want to lie to Helen, they always shared their secrets, but she also didn't want to tell her the truth and, at best, have Helen think badly of her and at worst leave her disgusted. The problem now was that Kate knew Helen wouldn't stop pestering her until she gave her something to satisfy her and stop her worrying. So that's what Kate decided to do. She would tell Helen just a little bit of the truth to fend her off.

"Look, it's just gone twelve and we've got things sorted here, apart from some bits, so why don't we go for a nice long early lunch and finish this later, my treat."

"Oh well, if you're paying, and who am I to argue with the boss, come on."

As it was so early their favourite table at the cafe was free. It was Kate's ideal table. It's in the corner therefore nobody was behind you; away from the counter so nobody's pushing past and by the window, so good for people watching. Being a creature of habit Kate always felt some resentment when strangers had taken "her" table. They spent a long time deciding what to order, the relatively few items on the menu seemed to make the task more difficult. Kate ordered, paid and returned to the table.




Seventy Three



"So, come on then, don't think that I've forgotten. What's ruffled the feathers of the unflappable Mrs. Adams?" Here goes, Kate thought, let's get it over with.

"Helen, promise me you'll keep this to yourself."

"You know I will, silly, go on." Her impatience began to show.

Kate had mentally rehearsed this many times using various openings but had now forgotten her best option, so she swallowed hard and made a start.

"I want to share this with you but I don't want you to judge me, OK?"

"Of course I won't, what on earth have you done?"

"Nothing, nothing at all, it's what I'm going to do actually, well, hopefully."

"Kate, what are you talking about?"

"You know last year, when we all went to that bar in town, the sleazy place by the station?"

"And had way too much to drink? Oh, do I ever, my head pounded for days." Helen recalled the incident with a laugh.

"Yes, that's the one, and I'd had so much I started telling you about me and Richard and what we had got up to, you know, in the bedroom."

"Yes, when he tied you to the bed and had his evil way with you? You haven't done it again have you, you little hussy you."

"Will you take this seriously; it's hard enough for me as it is."

"Sorry, really, I'm all ears." Helen pulled an imaginary zipper across her lips.

"Well, as it happens, we have on several occasions, if you must know, and that's the problem."

"What do you mean? Did Richard go too far and hurt you?"

"No, he didn't. That's the problem."

"I don't get it, what's the problem?"

"It's just that, the fact that he didn't go far enough." Helen looked at her with a blank expression, trying to understand what she was being told.

"So," Kate continued "I'm going to take it further."

"What, you're going to have an affair, cheat on Richard? Helen paused for thought. "You wouldn't do that would you?" 

"No, don't be silly, I would never do that, Richard knows about this and is part of it." Helen's previously shocked face turned to one of confusion. Kate makes use of Helen's speech deficiency to continue. "We've talked about it a lot, and now an opportunity has come up where we can explore some of our fantasies for real." She then paused to await the inevitable reaction.

"I don't get it, what are you telling me?"

"I told you, on that drunken night that I had these fantasies about being, well, submissive to another person and doing what they say, being used by them, and that's the problem. Richard loves me too much to be able to treat me how I'm treated in my fantasies, so... we've taken the first step to having that role carried out by other people." She paused again, but this time waited the age it took for all this to sink in. Kate hoped that Helen understood what she was telling her and didn't react in a negative manner.

"What do you mean, 'that role carried out by other people,' and who are these 'other people'?" Phew, thought Kate that was better than expected. Questions were far more preferable than being met with disdain. Helen continued. "Let me get this straight. You want to have a group of people tell you what to do?"

"Yes."

"Do what sort of things?"

"Whatever they want, but mainly, I suppose, sexual things."

"And who are these people?"

"Well, we don't actually know yet."

"Is this some sort of wind-up? You know, make Helen look a twit day."

"Helen, I would never do that." To clarify the story and convince Helen of its authenticity Kate recalled the events to date but, concealed Elizabeth's identity.

"So you've applied to become a member of a group, who will do whatever they want to you, and basically use you as some sort of sex object?"

"I suppose that's about it, yes."

"Kate, that's dangerous, and just, I don't know, sick."

"That's one point of view I suppose."

"Has Richard forced you into this?"

"No, not at all, he'd never do that; in fact it's more like the other way round."

"Kate I don't believe this", said Helen, shaking her head. "I wouldn't go as far as to call you a feminist but you want what's right for women, your independent, in control, strong. Why would you want to join this, thing?"

"Just because of all those things you've just mentioned, I get a thrill out of giving up control, letting go, and doing as I'm told. I'm a grown woman who knows what she's doing, I think, and I'm willing to take the risk of finding out if this is the right thing for me."

"And you're doing this of your own free will, yeah; you're not being blackmailed or something? People like you don't do things like this, you're... well... you're normal." Helen seemed to be getting more desperate to find a reason for Kate's actions, anything but to come to terms with the fact that this is what her prim and proper, straight laced, best friend, really wanted.

"No, I assure you that it's what I want, what we both want. This is for real Helen, and I am normal, we both are. Normal people do this sort of stuff all the time look at all the porn sites on the Internet, you can buy whatever you want to do with sex, see whatever you want and meet whoever you want, people love this stuff. Look at all the sites of 'normal' housewives in the nude and doing all sorts of other things, it's just that they've decided to live out their fantasies and we haven't."

"But it's just not you; what people like you do."

"I know that, and that's the problem; Mother Nature decides who has what feelings, emotions and urges, but society seems to have decided who's allowed to act on them. Just because it's not seen as the sort of thing a middle aged, middle class woman like me should be doing doesn't make the urges go away. It just means that it'll be harder for me to get over the moral barriers."

Helen's voice softened "You might be right, but why now, you're 42, when did you suddenly start to want this?"

"Oh it's not sudden; I've always felt like it, I suppose I was born like it. I just didn't know what it was. I remember when I was little getting a kick out of being the captive when we played and getting excited about princesses being locked in towers, and that sort of thing. In later years, as I became more aware I started to look out for that sort of material, and with the dawning of the Internet, well, whatever you want to know is there at your fingertips. The feelings, fantasies and needs seem to get stronger as you absorb more material and here I am, at the point of being ready to do something about it." Helen picked up her glass and finished her drink before replying.

"I understand what you mean; at least I think I do. But have you thought it through, the consequences?"

"Helen, we've talked it to death. Every possible scenario we can think of, and still we've decided to apply to this group. I mean, we may be turned down and that's an end to it, or we may be lucky and then we'll have to see what happens."

"So if it's not finalised, why are you telling me this now? You might not get the offer and then I would have been none the wiser."

"You're my best friend and I don't want to keep things from you. But more selfishly I've been so excited about it, I just had to tell somebody. Anyway I don't mind you knowing, I'm not ashamed of how I feel."

"Do you think that you could go through with it, if they accept you?"

"I suppose I won't know until I try but I would give it a real go. Do what I'm told, accept orders, the whole thing."

"What if they want you to things that you're not willing to do, can you just say no?"

"I don't know, but it would defeat the whole point a bit wouldn't it. There can't be much demand for a submissive who won't follow orders.

Helen's face brightened and she gave her first smile since the start of Kate's story.

"I suppose not."

"You won't be able to do it you know, it's just not you, taking orders and stuff. You'll be out of there like a shot."

"Well perhaps they'll be into bondage as well so that'll solve that problem won't it."

"Kate, behave." Kate was happy that Helen at least seemed to have accepted the situation even if she didn't concede to it.

It seemed a good time to make the break from lunch and return to the gallery to finish off the preparations for the opening. Little more was said on the subject during the afternoon but Kate could see that Helen was deep in thought about the whole thing. Kate hoped she wouldn't worry about her too much.

8

The worst part about submitting an application, in any situation, is the waiting. It's gone; it's out of your hands. Then the negative thought processes kick in; why haven't I heard? Could it be left under a pile of papers on somebody's desk? They've had so many to go through, I don't stand a chance. I would have heard by now if I was successful. Perhaps they got the address wrong etc. etc. Kate was no exception. 

The constant checking of Emails finally paid off on Thursday morning. Of the four new arrivals nestling in the in-box, the one entitled 'Oakham' caught her eye. Is that it, she thought, it must be! Her shaking hand moved the mouse over the icon and clicked open. It was indeed. Trying hard to control her mounting excitement she carefully read the contents.

Mr. & Mrs. Adams,

Following a meeting of the Oakham selection panel, you have been invited to a meeting on Monday 12th August at 4.00pm. 

Please confirm your intention to attend the meeting by phone.

See attachment for details.

Grace Edwards

Oakham.

Kate opened the attachment which contained an address and mobile phone number. The formality of the letter came as a surprise, no Dear before Mr. & Mrs. Adams and no pleasantries, thank you for your application etc. But then again, the whole process is not quite what Helen would call 'normal'.

"Oh wow, we've done it, we've done it, we've done it." Kate called out loud, jigging up and down on her chair. 

"You've done what?" asked Helen. Kate had got so carried away in her excitement that she had forgotten Helen's presence in the room.

"I've just heard from the group I was telling you about, and we've been invited to a meeting on Monday afternoon. Oh, would it be alright if I went early and left things here to you?"

"Kate, stop asking me, you're the boss, you come and go as you please." Then added, "But I'll tell you again, think very carefully about this, I think it's a big mistake and could lead to trouble."

"I know, and I appreciate you looking out for me, but it's something I have to do."

9

Kate had called the number from the Email attachment on Friday morning after checking that Richard was able to get away early on Monday to attend the meeting. The woman on the other end of the telephone, who, she assumed to be Grace Edwards, was polite but formal, just like the letter. After confirming that Kate and Richard would be there, that they had the correct address and knew the time, she informed her that parking was available should they wish to drive, and, with a swift goodbye, she ended the call.

Numerous times over the weekend Kate had gone into their bedroom and covered the bed with clothing, trying to decide what to wear for this meeting. What to wear for a job interview was straight forward; you wore the type of clothing which would be expected of somebody who held the job for which you were applying, easy. This was different, what do people who want to be sex slaves wear? After trying various combinations she concluded that none were just right. They were all too formal, too plain or too sluttish. She would decide on Monday.

The final choice of what to wear couldn't be put off any longer. The time when they would have to leave for the meeting was drawing ever closer. There was nothing else for it she would have to seek Richard's opinion. As usual he made it seem so straight forward.

"You had the same dilemma with the information on the application form and with the photo. Your solution was to be yourself, so, do the same again. It's got you this far so stick with it. What will you feel comfortable in? What will be formal enough for daytime without being too casual? And what will make you look good? I would think a skirt, blouse and light jacket."

"Shit, Richard. I've spent ages in here, and now you just stroll in and state the obvious. How do you always know these things, why are you always right?" she said with mock anger.

"I don't know, after years of being right it's just habit I guess."

"Oh get out and leave me to it." She flung a pillow at him as he left.

Kate eventually decided on her deep blue suit. The skirt ended just above the knee so not too short and the material was fairly lightweight which would be ideal for what was still quite a warm day.

She started with her expensive underwear, chosen mainly for the bra as the lacy straps may be seen though the white blouse if she became hot enough to remove her jacket. The chosen shoes were black, plain with medium heels, not too high to be showy but high enough to shape her leg muscles to best advantage. She had thought about stockings or tights but felt it safer to stick with the bare leg look. 

The outfit needed little in the way of accessories. Her wedding ring and a thin bracelet were enough. She took her time over applying her makeup; she didn't need much so she was careful not to overdo it for a daytime meeting. The nails were already manicured and painted red. All set. She left the bedroom and joined Richard, who was waiting in the lounge. On seeing her enter he stood.

"Wow, you look wonderful, turn around, and let me have a good look."

"Why thank you kind sir." Kate gave a twirl.

"You look great, it's a done deal. Come on or we'll be late."

Kate confirmed the Bayswater address again from the printout of the Email attachment.

"If this is it, they must have some money behind them." she said, looking up admiringly at the large, pillared, Georgian property.

"Wow, that's impressive," Richard agreed, "there's space here look." He parked the car. They climbed the granite steps past the basement's old sash windows and reached the black, glossy, front door. Next to the bell push was a small, highly polished brass plaque with the inscription: Oakham.

"Here we are then, are you sure about this?" 

"Never been more sure, and you?" Kate replied.

"We can't waste three days of effort making you look that gorgeous, come on." Richard pressed the bell. A voice from the grill below the bell invited them to enter. A loud click coincided with the door opening slightly in-wards. Richard pushed the heavy door and stepped aside letting Kate pass.

The inside of the building was as impressive as the outside and reminded Kate of a very expensive hotel. The original hallway had been converted to a reception area housing a desk behind which sat a mature, attractive lady. On seeing them enter she stopped what she was doing at her computer, rose from her seat and made her way round the desk to greet them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Adams?" She enquired.

"Yes, that's right, sorry we're a little early." Kate apologised.

"That's no problem, I'm Grace Edwards, Mr. Weston's assistant, pleased to meet you." She offered her hand to both. Kate was relieved to see that this woman was not nearly as formal as she appeared from the correspondence.

"Mr. Weston's just finishing a meeting with some gentlemen, and will be with you shortly. Please take a seat. Would you like some refreshment, tea, coffee, water?"

"No thank you." Replied Kate as she sat in one of the soft leather sofas. She was nervous enough as it was without topping up on tea, which would make it certain that she would have to ask to use the toilet. Richard also declined. While they sat waiting Kate observed the receptionist going about her duties. Perhaps early fifties, of medium height, but looking taller due to the heels she wore. The skirt of her grey suit came to just above the knee. She wore matching opaque grey hose and white blouse. Her hair had been held up in an old fashioned bun, completing the look of the efficient office manager.

After waiting only a few minutes the door to the side of the reception area opened and three gentlemen appeared. Judging from the overheard conversation, their meeting had been a success and they departed with positive handshakes. As he saw out his visitors Kate assumed that this must be Mr. Weston who they were to see. He stood quite tall, slim and perhaps late fifties, judging by the greying hair on his temples. Quite an attractive man thought Kate. The receptionist went across and spoke to the remaining gentleman who immediately introduced himself to Richard and Kate.

"Hello." He said, shaking Richard's hand. "Sorry to keep you waiting, I'm Graham Weston, pleased to meet you."

"Think nothing of it, we were a little early. I'm Richard Adams and this is my wife, Catherine."

"Ah, yes, pleased to meet you Catherine. Do come through to the office."

The door from the reception area led to a long, wide, wood panelled corridor decorated with what looked to Kate like expensive, abstract paintings. It was all very impressive. Graham Weston's office was through the first door on the left. 

The bright and airy room had ample daylight flooding through a pair of French doors which looked out onto an informal, well established garden. The traditional decor gave the impression of class without shouting it. Two maroon leather chesterfield sofas and the biggest oak desk either of them had ever seen, failed to fill the enormous space. The beige carpet gave an air of luxury often seen in the top hotels, and a large floor standing clock quietly ticked away in the corner. The only visible concession to modern technology was a laptop computer sitting on the desk. They were offered two padded leather chairs which matched the sofas, and sat down. It pleased Kate to see that Mr. Weston didn't sit behind the large desk and play the intimidation games she'd learnt of at the law firm. Instead he pulled up a chair and faced them on their side of the desk.

A knock on the open door announced the arrival of the assistant bearing a tray containing liquid refreshments, biscuits, plates and napkins. The hospitality impressed them both.

"Ah, thank you so much, Grace. That will be all for now. We'll call you when you're needed."

"Refreshments Catherine, Richard?"

"No, not at the moment thank you," her nerves now making the need for a toilet break even more likely.

"Me neither, thank you."

"Well, just help yourself, any time. Right then, let's make a start. You've made an application to join us and we've invited you here for us both to get a better idea of what that would involve, and, ultimately for you to decide if you wish to continue. Correct?"

"Yes that's about it," was all Richard could muster.

"What I'll do is outline what we do here and how we operate, then you ask away with any questions you may have. But please do stop me for clarification at any time if you wish."

"Great, thank you." Kate managed this time. She was determined not to just sit there like an idiot, but it wasn't working yet.

"We're always eager to introduce new members to the group, but women who possess the characteristics we're looking for combined with the appropriate temperament and personal qualities are few and far between. Don't get me wrong, surprisingly; we have many more applicants than we could handle, but, due to the nature of the role we're very particular about whom we accept. We will only consider an application on the recommendation of an existing member, and you came highly recommended by Elizabeth and Robin. Similarly all group members go through a rigorous application process to make sure that they're of the correct standing. We're very conscious of the safety and wellbeing of all involved."

"That sounds most reassuring." Richard chipped in.

"Oakham only recruits women able to meet the very demanding requirements of our members, and, at the same time, meet the equally important needs of the ladies themselves. Whilst on that point, you may have noticed that the application form did not contain a section asking why you want this role and why you're the best person in the world to fill the role, as in your standard job application. The role is not a job and this is not an interview."




Seventy Three



"Mr. Weston, the application obviously asked for my age and I was a little concerned that at 42, I may be considered to be older than ideal for this."

"My dear Catherine, our preferred age range is more mature rather than younger. We prefer to recruit women with experience. Many of our applicants are too young and lack life experience. Not all, we do have younger members, but few possess an appeal and grace which develops over time. We need ladies who know how to dress and present themselves for specific occasions and who can hold an intelligent conversation in any company." Kate wasn't sure about knowing the correct dress code following this morning's problem but was confident that she could hold her own with the second point. "The younger ladies who apply to us, and are accepted, tend to be used on a more part time basis, and are given duties lasting an evening, or a weekend, until they've shown the qualities we're looking for with the more in-depth role. So Catherine you should have no worries on that score, you're in the ideal age range for the role you're seeking."

"I'm pleased to hear it, thank you."

Richard put in a question. "Mr. Weston, Kate is a strong willed, independent woman, and, as she also has these strong desires to be controlled there may be some conflict there, how would that be handled?" Kate turned to look at Richard, impressed with his line of questioning.

"Good point, Mr. Adams." 

Richard interrupted him. "Richard, please, Mr. Adams sounds so formal."

"My apologies, Richard, you're quite correct. In answer to your question, I would say this. We have in our group, a variety of people to call upon who will 'adjust' a strong will and keep it under firm control. Indeed many see such a situation as a challenge to be overcome rather than a problem to avoid. Such situations can be most enjoyable for all involved."

"I see, thank you."

"Strong willed, intelligent women such as your wife here are highly sought after, Richard. They require equally strong treatment to give them what they need - an experience which reaches right inside them and satisfies those deep desires which have lain dormant for so long. But let me tell you this, once those intelligent and independent ladies have given in completely to their desires they become the most desirable creatures imaginable, capable of giving pleasure and doing things even they never dreamed they would. The more degrading their treatment the more their bodies and minds demand. They welcome whatever challenges are put to them, and are willing to give themselves, the whole of their being, to meet those challenges."

"That all sounds a little scary" said Kate trying to be truthful.

"Of course it does at this point in time, it's supposed to, but with the right help and training anything is possible. And I have to say, I'm glad to hear you express your reservations; it demonstrates your intelligence. We're not looking for unthinking dolly birds, eager to put their bodies to use, we want well-trained ladies who are obedient and well behaved because they want to be, not because they're being forced."

"Mr. Weston, how far do you go with your ladies to force them to carry out orders and ensure their obedience?"

"There's a misconception in your question Catherine. We don't force anybody to do anything. None of our ladies have to do this and are free to stop at any time. They willingly choose to be here and accept, with that free will, whatever is done to them or with them. Ironically the slave is in complete control of what happens simply by having the ability to leave. But, if they do leave the decision is final, and they can have no more contact with the group. However, choosing to remain with us means that they are in control of nothing, we have control of how they dress, what they do, when they do it and who they do it with. To offer oneself totally in this way, without conditions, takes a great deal of courage and personal confidence. Do you think you have those Catherine?"

"Well, I think so, I hope so." Kate hesitated, suddenly unsure of herself, it was now getting to be all too real and a little daunting.

"I've every confidence in her ability to meet the needs of the group, Mr. Weston, she possesses the qualities you talk of in abundance and I am very proud of her." Richard's little speech took Kate by surprise and she looked sideways to see him give her a slight nod and reassuring smile. Grateful of his support she instantly felt more confident in her ability to do this.

"Right, referring to your application form it appears that you're in good health and of sound mind. Is that correct?"

"Yes, well I'm in good health, but there are people who would question the sound mind bit if they could see me sitting here discussing these things."

"Quite, but what we're seeking here is confirmation that you're able to cope with the demands of the training and your subsequent use, which can be hard, on the body and the mind."

"As far as I'm aware, I'm as fit and mentally stable as the next woman, so I don't foresee any problems there." 

"Excellent."

"Now, there was also a response in the medical section concerning a partial hysterectomy."

"Yes, but it was many years ago and hasn't been an issue."

"I see, does that also mean that there are no issues with monthly cycles or risk of pregnancy?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"And you're financially stable?" Weston broke off from his questioning and lowered his papers. "I apologise for asking the question and it's not my intention to pry into your personal affairs but you must understand that you would be in contact with some very powerful and wealthy people and have intimate knowledge which could be used for criminal purposes."

"I assure you," replied Richard, "that we're sufficiently well off to resist the temptation to do a little moonlighting."

"Wonderful, I'm glad to hear it." He gave a quick laugh.

"And a final point, you're able to choose your working hours to some extent in order to be free during a normal working day?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"Well, you seem to be an ideal applicant from our point of view. But, before we go any further, I'd like to know how you feel about things. You see we're very conscious of privacy and would like to keep knowledge of our activities confined to as small a group of people as possible. So, if after what you've heard so far, you think this is not for you then we'll terminate our meeting and leave it at that."

Richard and Kate turned to look each other in the eye, both trying to determine the thought process of the other. Kate knew that she was very keen to go ahead but would respect Richards wishes if he thought it was more than he could handle. Richard, in turn, still had his doubts but could read the pleading, hopeful look in her eyes opposing the indifferent look she was attempting to keep on her face. A very slight nodding of his head brought instant relief to Kate.

"I think that we're both happy to go ahead and take this to the next stage," said Kate, as she reached across to take hold of Richard's hand.

"And Richard, what's your view?"

"I'm willing to see how it develops, for as long as I think that Kate's coming to no harm and is in no real danger."

"Excellent, now, how about some tea or coffee?"

"Let me tell you about the setup and workings of our organisation. Oakham is a registered company listed under the category of 'Leisure'. We are part of a larger group of companies who operate independently but where possible to the mutual benefit of the whole group. We're self-financing, and very profitable as it happens, the envy of most other companies in the group. We have our own 'leisure facilities' in the form of a members club here in London- the Boardroom and a residential facility in Surrey- Oakham Manor. Keeping things small reduces the problems of keeping our activities private. Discretion is rule number one."

"Is it always the same structure, with men controlling women?" asked Richard, out of curiosity more than anything else.

"In our setup, yes. There is another group which functions in a similar manner to us who do operate with women being the dominant party. However from past experience we've come to the conclusion that it's far simpler to separate the two."

"And how are the women treated by the members in 'normal' life? " Kate disliked using the word normal but could not think of an alternative.

"Good point Catherine. Our women are the most valuable assets the company has, without them we would have no future. Giving yourself for others to use as they wish takes courage and an inner strength which many of the members will never possess. In recognition of that the members treat them with the greatest courtesy and respect," he paused and then added, "when they're not on active duty of course."

"And do you ever have problems with people taking things too far, going over the top?"

"The members of Oakham are successful people and most have stable family lives therefore they wouldn't want to do anything which would affect either of those. Should we ever have a problem it would be dealt with swiftly and decisively. It's incredible what repercussions a group of these people can initiate. We take our obligations seriously and do all we can to look after the needs of our ladies inside the society and do nothing which would adversely affect their lives outside."

"How do you ensure that the women get what they want, or need, out of this and are not just used for the titillation of men?" Kate was again impressed with Richard's line of questioning. He was obviously thinking of her needs and how she would benefit from this.

"Oakham's aim is to help the ladies discover what they want from this, develop into the person they want to be, and finally, achieve their goal, whatever that may be. Some ladies come to us knowing what they want and others come to find out what it is they want. When, and if, that goal is reached we have the means to sustain her passion for the lifestyle and push her boundaries just a little further, there's no real end."

"I'm impressed with the value you place on the woman's needs as well as the needs of the group, Mr. Weston. This sounds to be just what I'm looking for."

"Catherine, freely and totally giving yourself over for the use of others is a very brave thing to do. Even admitting to having those needs is brave, but to sit here and indicate your willingness to actually do something about it is commendable. It takes courage and strength of personality, traits which we value. Strange as it may sound, our women are looked up to and admired by those who use and abuse them. The abuser has the immediate control but the ladies have the ultimate power, the ability to end it all, by saying no. If the group loses sight of their needs that is indeed what will happen."

"Mr. Weston, how would Kate's role within the group differ from that of Elizabeth's? I mean her and Robin both have their roles in this type of relationship whereas, with me, Kate doesn't have somebody to provide her with what she needs."

"Elegantly put Richard." Weston nodded his approval, then continued. "We have two groups of women..." he stopped momentarily and then came to a conclusion, "look, let's not be politically correct here any longer, these women are the group's slaves, consensual slaves yes, but property none the less. So, we have two groups of slaves, he emphasised the word for impact, private slaves and group slaves. Elizabeth is a private slave, which means that she's owned by Robin and is loaned to the group on a regular basis. Robin decides on when and how she'll be used. We have many such slaves in that role. The other type is a group slave, these are owned by the group and it is the group who decides on their use and has control of them. Many of these women are single or in relationships where the partner is unable to provide the guidance and discipline they need. Some even have partners who have no interest and take no part in the activities but are happy to let her participate as a kind of hobby or pastime."

"So I would be a group slave?" Asked Kate, even using the words gave her a thrill. "And what would that mean in practical terms?"

"It means that we would decide when, where and with whom you would participate in group events. You'd be required to undergo a course of training in order to acquire the necessary skills needed to carry out your duties. You would then be made available for selection by members, either for their personal use or to be used in group activities."

"I see, thank you." It gets better and better she thought, this was all her dreams coming to fruition.

"How long is the training and how often would a slave be expected to provide their services?" Richard wanted to know.

"Catherine would carry out her training here in London on a part time basis. This would probably take two to three weeks; some are quicker learners than others of course. After that group salves are made available for use by members for perhaps two or three times a week."

"How does all this get organised?"

"Slaves are given assignments which they are expected to fulfil. Of course things crop up; people get ill, have accidents, monthly cycles starting early and so on. We take these into account and change the slave's agenda. Slaves have no choice in the assignments they are given and cannot refuse one, that would be breaking the terms of her contract and she would be expelled from the group. Failure to perform well on an assignment would result in the slave being severely punished. Oakham insists on obedience from its slaves and has the means to make sure it gets it."

Kate soon realised that points had cropped up during this meeting which would have sent warnings to normal sensible people, that this was heavy stuff. However, all that she'd heard and the moisture between her legs was a strong indication that she was staying put, this was exciting.

There was a long pause while all the information sank in. Weston then seemed to have finished his dialogue.

"So in summary, and to make sure that we are all clear, if you wish to continue you will have to sign a contract essentially making you the property of Oakham. After that you will be trained in preparation to be used as a slave by our members and whoever else we choose to share you with. You may break the agreement and quit which means that you have chosen to leave the group forever."

"Well that seems clear, yes." Was all Kate could think of to say, but that was better than Richard who just sat and nodded.

"Good. You may not always be engaged in your duties but the influence of the group will always be there with you, in your thoughts, how you're dressed, in the anticipation of what's to come. It will be a permanent reminder of the fact that you willingly gave yourself to us. The activities you'd take part in would be designed to enable you to find what you're looking for and achieve your personal goals. They would, in no way, be allowed to come between you and Richard, indeed we would hope to be allowed the opportunity act as mentors to you Richard in the hope that you'll take an active role in helping Kate realise her ambitions. You should never feel threatened by our actions and rest assured that Kate will not be permanently harmed, nor will she be permanently marked without your approval."

What on earth did that last sentence mean? Kate decided not to ask right now, all would become clear. She summed up in her own mind all that which she had just heard. These people want to train me to be a sex slave, make me do whatever they want and share me with whomever they want. If I don't do it properly I'll be severely punished, and now, they want to get Richard on board to help them do it. That sounds fair enough. I've had worse days.

"Well, unless you have any further questions, that seems to be that," concluded Weston. "So, if you wouldn't mind standing please, Catherine." Kate suddenly looked confused, was she being kicked out? She slowly rose from her chair and straightened her skirt, out of habit as much as anything else.

"And please undress."

"What? Here?"

"Catherine, learning to do as you're told is something which can be achieved through obedience or through punishment, it's your choice. Please undress now." Kate's eyes flicked across to Richard for help. The slight nod of his head was enough to assure her that he was happy for her to comply. For a brief moment she stood still, unsure of what to do; she hadn't expected this; here, today. The shift in tone of Mr. Weston's voice had left her with a feeling of unease. He was no longer the matter of fact conveyor of information but a stern authoritarian testing her. The nervous shaking was not helping her ability to comply, insecure about her body she didn't want to comply, but she knew if she didn't she would have failed; she'd have fallen at the first hurdle. 

As Kate's heart continued to beat rapidly in her chest and her face flushed red she slowly reached for the buttons of her jacket. With shaking hands the jacket was removed and carefully placed on her chair. The smaller buttons of her blouse were more of a problem which was eventually overcome and the blouse joined the jacket. After releasing the button and zip of the skirt she slowly slid it down her long legs and, with as much elegance as she could manage, stepped out of it, picked it up and placed it over the chair.

Despite the embarrassing situation she was in Kate's first thoughts were how pleased she was with her decision this morning to go with the expensive, sexy underwear. How much more embarrassing would it have been to be standing here in big knickers and tatty bra. Oh the vanity of woman, she scolded herself. Now he could see her body she hoped that would be as far as she would have to go so she paused and looked at him for approval. It was not forthcoming.

"And the rest," he said, nonchalantly.

With a large intake of breath Kate reached behind and felt for the clasp of the bra. What was a simple task every other day of the year now, suddenly, seemed have become impossible, then it suddenly released. She slowly slipped the straps from her shoulders and removed the bra, revealing her breasts. Another quick glance to Richard and his nod of approval gave her the go ahead to carry on. She looked up at Mr. Weston; he was basking in her embarrassment and humiliation. Kate slipped down her panties letting them drop to the floor. As carefully as she could she bent her knees to stoop down and retrieve the garment consigning it to the ever increasing pile.

Richard sat in fascination watching the scene unfold before him. This morning he would not have dreamt that by the end of the day he would be sitting in a stranger's office watching his wife strip naked. She'd always been self-conscious about her body so he appreciated what a challenge this was to her. He also couldn't deny what a big turn on it was for him.

Now fully naked Kate stood straight, pride taking the place of fear and uncertainty. She put her hands behind her back and waited. Weston stood from his chair and slowly walked around her, studying her body. Kate remained still and tried to look composed. "You're a lucky man Richard," nodding his approval of what stood before him. Good firm breasts, full but not overlarge, and nice dark nipples too, lovely, they'll go down well. "Turn around Catherine." She slowly did as told and faced the French doors. It suddenly dawned on her that twenty feet away across the immaculately tended gardens was a side street. Any passers-by would only have to glance in this direction to see a naked woman standing to attention before two gentlemen in an office in the middle of the working day. The thought horrified her and entranced her at the same time. "Nice firm buttocks too, she obviously works out a lot." The statement was posed as a question to Richard.