"I catch you if you fall." The corporal promised expansively. Then extended himself to humour. "I also catch you if you run."
They did not run.
In the cell their arms and wrists were freed. In their barred confinement their irons became more practical. They had little need to walk. From one side of their prison was only three or four dragging steps, the rest of them was free. If they stood still they could enjoy a false sensation of liberty. But this reflection was grim. It meant that, from now on, their life would be spent behind bars in small confined spaces where the irons would not matter much, other than as a constantly depressing reminder of their condition, and a mocking denial to anyone who sought to aid their escape. They were grateful for each other. To have been alone in the cage would have been a thing hard to take. They even managed a giggle as they heaved their irons awkwardly up to enable them to sit on their bench facing each other, chin on bent knees, and talk about their most immediate infliction. "We're going to be fucked." Audrey mourned matter-on-factly. "What do we do about it?"
"Darling, I've been a whore. I told you, it doesn't really matter... unless a girl lets it. So don't let it matter." Corey was ashamedly proud of her expertise.
"We can spread our legs, dam it!" Laboriously, Audrey did so. "The sons of bitches, they had that figured when they shackled us with all this chain. We can't either run or say no." She managed another giggle. "But they cheated themselves out of any good leg action."
"I got the impression we wouldn't be screwed in prison." Corey meditated.
"There's only about a dozen policemen and the corporal... oh, and that magistrate bastard gets in on us too, doesn't he? It could be worse, y'know."
"Gosh, what a spot! You mean, we have to be grateful for being fucked by only f******n men we don't even like?"
Audrey wrinkled her nose in disgust. "And you can bet they'll have friends... Oh, damn, we've got a visitor."
"I have decided to fuck you now." Announced the corporal magnanimously. "My men will come later as their duties permit. We are all much pleased and very hard." He unlocked the cell door. "Which of you would like to enjoy me first?"
Corey Gibson arranged her nakedness in the oldest position in the world. As a reassurance to a dubious Audrey, she proclaimed jauntily. "Me first, please corporal."
"Ah, you are wise girl." The corporal was flattered, his own self assessment confirmed. "I have very hard..."
"Can't we have privacy?" Audrey broke in on his pleasantries. "Can't you take us somewhere, one at a time, and do it to us in private?"
The corporal was puzzled. "You do not like to watch?"
"No, and I don't want to be seen either. It's not decent. This damn cell is like a cage in the Zoo. What girl wants to be fucked in a cage!"
"Hush, darling, it's no use." Corey was concerned.
"Miss Gibson is right." The corporal confirmed. "She is a most proper young lady. Perhaps if I whip you a little you will become polite?"
Audrey shrugged in resignation. She watched. She admired the corporal's member. She was by no means untrained in sexuality. When the thrusting and moaning drew to a close she obeyed the inviting gesture and cleansed their jailor's glistening penis with her mouth, lips and tongue. When, after a minute, it responded with an expanding virility, Miss Audrey Cotswold lay on her back and thrust savagely at the irons on her feet. She did not close her eyes but looked steadily at Corey Gibson as she was ****d.
"You are both very nice girls with fine cunts." The corporal informed warmly. "You now how have visitor. My friend, Mr. Burdett, is wait in office."
The two girls looked at each other askance. Would he know? Should they tell him? They lowered their weight of metal to the floor and sat primly erect. "You are most welcome to fuck them both, dear sir Mr. Burdett. They have luscious cunts." Corporal Eliah's hospitality was warm. Evidently he intended to miss nothing.
The Slaver's retort was typical. "You bastard! You mean, you've fucked 'em both already?" "Of course. Am I not the corporal here?"
Corey knew her Master had to fight for control. The set of his lips spoke volumes. She glowed with fresh hope as his eyes met hers. "You alright, girl?"
:We have not been harmed, Master."
"What the hell's all that scrap iron on their feet?"
"They have been sentenced, sir. All legal. They have been found most naughty and must wear irons because of previous escape."
"Piss on that! Take 'em off!"
"Would be to break the Law, dear sir. Irons do not matter to nice girls. They spread their legs for you most easily. Will you fuck them now?"
"If you think I'm going to fuck a girl in a cage with you watching, you're nuts. I didn't come here to fuck. I want them out of this."
"Alas, they are much in. Perhaps you would be our guest for the evening. My staff will fuck the girls from time to time. You are most welcome to watch through the bars."
"Piss on that too! Look, Eliah, I want 'em out. What's it cost?" "But, sir, they have been found guilty. Their sentence is for fifteen years with full discipline and restraint. In a few days, after we have all fucked them well, they will be taken to the special prison for naughty ladies and begin to serve..."
"Where the hell's that?"
"It is the State Institution for intractable females at Imballa, Mr. Burdett, sir." Said the corporal with stiff dignity. "They will be much whipped, and in fifteen years will be fine citizens."
"Horseshit!" Seth Burdett frowned at his former slaves. "Hold on, girls." He said f***efully. "The corporal here can't do a thing. He's a good chap on the wrong side of te fence. But look..." His face became fierce. "I'll get you out. Chains and all, I'll get you out. Remember that." He turned and strode from sight.
Corey glowed with pride. The fire inside her crotch quenching the corporal's ravishment.
For four days Corey and Audrey serviced the Ben Sirah constabulary with lips and cunt and mouth. On the fifth day they were taken to Imballa. It was in a polite car with the corporal. They sat in the back, linked together by handcuffs on their elbows. On arrival at one of the grimmest buildings they had ever seen there was much signing of papers while they stood at attention. Then corporal Eliah unlocked and pocketed his department's handcuffs, shook their free hands warmly, and wished them well for the mere trifle of fifteen years, and left them to the mercy of the correctional Institute of Imballa.
Imballa had no mercy. It hosed them down, it disinfected, it fingerprinted, it completed documents. Then a wardress put them in a cell with the heartening information that, when she got around to it later, she would whip them both between their legs as an Institutional aid to the rejection of carnal thoughts. The barred door and its lock made a sound to discourage any optimism a girl might have brought along."
"We're not going to like this." Audrey's statement was positive.
"I'm hating this iron on our feet more and more." Corey mourned. "They don't need to put it on us here. There's no escape. They're just being mean." She brightened. "But our Master will get us out. I know he will!"
"You and your Master!" Audrey sniffed. "He's only one man." She looked around discontent. "Gosh, what a hateful place! I can feel those fifteen years..."
Wardress Taruma could have handled six ironed girls with ease. Corey and Audrey gave her no trouble. "I no have time to take you to punishment room. You walk too slow." She told them tersely. "Each cell equipped for whippings. I whip you here."
"We don't need to be whipped. We haven't done anything. We promise we'll behave."
"You been naughty. You be sentenced. Is custom to whip new girl."
There seemed little left to say. The twin delinquents did as they were told. On their backs on the floor, they watched the pulley raise their irons. To meshed gears the weight of metal meant nothing. Four feet went with the iron, rising up and up, followed by legs and thighs. Somewhere there was a winch and motor. They could hear it. But for Taruma there was only the ropes and the button on the wall. After two pert bottoms had left the floor she pressed the button and surveyed the two open and exposed crotches with approval. "You got pretty cunts. I find a use...! Now I whip."
She used a quirt, a hateful thing with heavy thongs, well lubricated with the secretions of a hundred girls. She used it leisurely, going from one sundered cunt to the other. Her blows were viciously wise in female agony. But she would do no damage. She appeared to regard a whipping as a time for conversation, some of it informative. "We got nice room for girl punishment. Have stocks. Have whipping post. Have thing to stretch. Have many whips. Imballa girls very lucky."
Corey squealed. The twin thongs had sliced her sex without warning. The pain was hateful. But then... all pain was hateful. She braced her free forearms on the floor to raise herself to where she could see herself whipped and watch the quirt slice the naked girl beside her. "Please," She pleaded, "Why can't you whip our bottoms? It's not right or decent to whip a girl's cunt." She was instantly rewarded for temerity. The quirt flashed down across her left breast. She subsided, writhing her scream of agonized anger cut in two by a second splat between her open thighs.
"In Imballa girls do not complain." Said Wardress Taruma blandly. Miss Corey Gibson did not complain again.
The two thonged wickedness went back and forth. Sometimes it entered the forbidden lips. Soon it was wet with female fluids and hurt the more. The girl's own secretions were etched upon the skin of their loins and thighs, but they replenished the leathers by the plentitude of their emissions. They were young and full of sap. Wardress Tamura cut into them with shrewd snapping blows. They rewarded her with their impotent writhing and their yelps and squeals from the desolation of their distress. It was a wise and compelling introduction to their new captivity. When she released them and went her way, the two girls lay sprawled upon the floor and wept upon each other's naked skin.
On the second day they were e****ted to the main office, their dragging feet a misery to themselves and an irritation to Tamura. The prison governor was male. He eyed their breasts with pleasure as they stood to attention before his desk. Tamura had told them to 'stick them tits well out'. "Welcome to Imballa." He greeted politely. "You have received your first whipping?"
"Yes, sir. Between our legs, big wardress Tamura."
"So I observe. You will be whipped again today. I am a great believer in the whip. I hope you share my faith?"
"Yes, sir." Both had been told the expected response.
"Excellent! This will be a more conventional lashing."
"Thank you, sir."
"You are most welcome. We do our best here at Imballa. We get results. Few leave who are not reformed." The governor cleared his throat. "Our staff is largely female: splendid women such as the wardress you have met. But there is a small male contingent. This includes myself. We will fuck you as convenient. It is a modern innovation designed to modify the tedium of incarceration."
"Thank you, sir."
"Not at all. Ah, yes! You have fifteen years to go. A mere trifle."
"Yes, sir. We will benefit from your training. We are sorry we were naughty girls."
"I am sure you are. By the way, I understand you have origins in high places in the United States?"
"Yes, sir. Millions would be paid as ransom for our release and delivery. No one really wants us in this prison."
"Indeed! That sounds suspiciously like an offer to bribe?"
"We are sorry, sir. We are bad girls who do not know..."
"We will endeavor to teach you. I will have you taken direct from this office to the punishment room. You may stay there several days. A night standing in the stocks is most helpful."
"Of course, sir. Thank you."
"Er... this matter of millions... you mentioned?"
"The Planet Corporation, on Mr. Assef Aslam, sir."
"Well, well! Aslam is an honored name. What is your relationship?"
"I am his slave, sir."
"Interesting! And on your return...?"
"He would have me whipped, sir, for being such a nuisance."
"But you love him?"
"Oh yes, sir. He is my Master."
"Hmmmmm, most unusual. Well, at least, we can have you whipped here. But the love...!" He turned to Corey. "Your father's name is known. But you are also the slave of our highly esteemed Mr. Burdett?"
"Yes, sir. He desires my release."
"Did he ever whip you?"
"Of course, sir. I am his slave. I have marks..."
"Indeed you have! We will replenish them."
"Is there any hope of us being pardoned, sir?"
"Who knows!" The governor's vision sought a delectable vista all his own. "In the meantime you will become acquainted with our punishment room. It is a most estimable compartment." His regard was suspicious. "You do agree you are here for punishment, I hope?"
"Oh yes, sir! We are very grateful to you for all this trouble. But... well, we did think we were just going to be imprisoned?"
"By no means!" The governor's tone was expansive. "We are a modern facility. We deal in delinquent females. We do not believe in the morbidity of confinement in a cell. Our inmates are constantly punished in many ways... They spend no more than half their time behind the bars of their own small dungeon."
"Oh, thank you, sir."
The governor pressed a bell.
Miss Corey Gibson shrank from the sight of the ugly structure into which she was invited to insert her neck and her wrists. But wardress Tamura was a compelling f***e, it would be useless to fight. Obeying a specific directive, she gathered her hair and placed it down beside one cheek as she fitted her neck into its designated slot. Hopelessly, she fitted her wrists... "Is very good girl." The wardress approved as she lowered the upper yoke of the pillory. "Now I lock with nice padlock." There came an ominous click which caused a knot to form within Corey's tummy, and from there spread... She was safely in the pillory. Around her neck and wrists the wood was snug. It had been built for girls.
Audrey's penance was a chair. From its seat a phallus rose commandingly. The rest of the surface was serrated. It was a thing no girl would wish to place her naked bottom on. "Please to sit." The wardress invited. "You may take a little time. You may adjust to inside your cunt. But you must sit."
Corey's view was limited. Bit she could look sideways at this. She cringed in sympathy as her fellow prisoner adjusted the blunt knob of the ugly male thing against her vulva's lips and slowly lowered herself until she sat impaled. Her grimace as her weight came to rest was a tribute to the chair's punitive intent.
"Is hurt girlie's arse?" The wardress inquired solicitously.
"It's... it's awful. And inside...!" Audrey looked up at her smiling inquisitor. "Oh please... must I?"
Taruma placed the naked arms behind the back of the chair and bound them there with tight drawn loops of cord. "Of course must sit." She reproved. "You are here for punish. In a little while you neither like what I do for you. Much time to think of bad things you do." A strap cinched around her waist completed Audrey's captivity to the chair. Taruma nodded approval of her work. She went away.
"I could kill the smarty bitch." Audrey exclaimed vehemently. "To leave us like this! Oh damn, and we don't know how long..."
"Is it bad, darling?" Corey was thinking of the huge thing within Audrey's sheath. She would not have wanted it inside her own.
"It hurts where I sit." Audrey tensed against her bonds. "That will get worse, of course. But this damn thing way up into me...! I'm going to have twenty orgasms... and hate every one! I can feel the first one starting..."
Courey mourned for them both. Her punishment also would get worse. She could move but little. Her neck and wrists were clamped tight. At the end of the timber the dangling padlock mocked. She was as helpless a prisoner as if cemented. The irons on her feet prevented her from kicking. She shared disconsolate glances with her pained companion as the time went by. Hurting and hopeless as they were there was nothing good to say. The sudden advent of the prison governor was surprising but welcome. Any break in the awfulness of their immobility was better than none. The governor was accompanied by Mr. Syroid. He motioned pride fully. "You see, sir, your concern is needless. The young ladies are well looked after."
"Indeed, yes!" The lawyer moved to beam down at a shamed Corey. "I already represent Miss Cotswold. I am prepared to accept you as a client? I possess some influence. Your sentence may be appealed."
Hope flooded Corey's being. She twisted her yoked neck to look up appealingly. "Could you... Oh, please."
"There is every possibility. I pull the strings. There is the matter of a retainer."
"Miss Gibson is nicely positioned." Said the governor thoughtfully. Corey did not believe it was happening. It was too bizarre. Her new lawyer patted her bent head and moved behind her limited view. A moment later she felt the first thrust of his erection between the parted cheeks of her buttocks, with the second prod she knew herself impaled. "A pleasant change for you, Miss Gibson." The governor said heartily. "I suggest you do not complain. Mr. Syroid is being kind."
The first time within her anus! A smutty legend become real! Corey Gibson could not move. In shocked immobility her bottom took the poundings by which the barrister and solicitor collected his retainer. When he had grunted his way to satisfaction the governor took his place, his voice unctuous: "I am sure you won't mind, Miss Gibson... so very convenient...!"
For both worthy gentlemen the period of regeneration was usefully employed by changing the bondage of the two girls. In fifteen minutes Corey sat, with a pierced and bulging sheath, bound to the chair, and Audrey Cotswold was safely in the stocks. Corey Gibson watched in fascinated horror the anal **** she had been unable to witness on herself. While it was being done to the yoked girl Corey burst into orgasm. She was bitterly and heatedly ashamed. She hoped it was the dildo's fault and not her own. Her bottom was a flaming misery.
"I've had it there before." Audrey admitted. "I suppose if it pleases the bastards...!"
"Will he do anything for us?"
"I think he will. He can smell profit. So can the governor."
In constant and increasing pain they morosely contemplated their improved prospects. Mr. Syroid was absurd but he was hope. From time to time they wept in the utter misery of their punishment. Corey's orgasms became less frequent as the day wore on.
It was in the darkness before the next dawn that the **** of Imballa Prison made the news. The first explosion shocked the chained girls from sl**p. The second ripping blast drove their nudities to the apprehensive comfort of each other's arms. Their heavy shackles mocked them as did the brutal implacability of their cell's locked door. In whatever was taking place they were pitiably helpless. When the lights went on there were shots, then a scuffle in the passage beyond their bars. They gazed in wonderment at a woman and two men.
"Open it up, you silly bitch." Seth Burdett's approach to a problem was unmistakable.
Wardress Tamura, disordered in scanty night attire, used her keys, then allowed herself to be bound. Shewas frightened.
"C'mon, Bonzo. Use that flame thrower."
Corey adored him. The oxygen torch flared with a roat. As its heat approached their shackles the prisoners of Imballa cringed away. "Push their feet the way you want them, Bonzo. Never mind the anklets, get the chain." For the first time he met the startle but worshipful regard of his two slaves. "Watch this, girls. You're going to love it."
A cutting torch is indeed a thing to see! Two slave girls stared in flinching joy as links dissolved. "You'll have to wear the shackle and one link, love. Can't get the heat any closer to your tootsie."
Even with the weight of an iron band and one link on each ankle the girls walked with wings as a strong hand pushed them through Imballa's blasted gates to the waiting trucks. "I've got my army to attend to." Seth told them. "Talk to this guy while you're waiting... Oh, and here's that trick of the corporal's." He linked one elbow from each girl with the bite of handcuffs. "Hold on to 'em, Hunter, they're a slippery pair."
"That guy's a miracle." Reid Hunter kissed them both with real affection. "We're getting you back for peanuts. This army of his won't run us more than a hundred grand. You'll be back in the U.S.A. tomorrow." He eyed their shared handcuff approvingly. "That's a damn cute way of keeping you together. Good mind do deliver you like that."
They were hysterical with happiness. Corey's fire burned bright. She wondered if the handcuff above her elbow held any particular significance! But what did it matter, she and Audrey loved each other. On the other hand...! She shrugged a thought away as Reid answered a question. "Syroid? Oh sure. Slimy bastard but we hired him to get us the floor plan. Easy for him to visit you on a pretext."
The girls told nothing. They were ashamed of Mr. Syroid. Their rectums were still tender from his legal machinations. Doubtfully, Corey asked: "Isn't the roof going to blow off the United Nations about this raid?" "Hell, no!" Reid chuckled. "We also bribed the governor. We fired a few shots but didn't hit anyone. The whole thing's going to be blamed on Bandits, political dissidents who want their girl friends back."
"But the staff and prisoners will have seen...?"
Reid Hunter's chuckles seemed endless. "That's been taken care of too." He winked at Corey. "That Slave Trader of yours is out of this world. You can guess what he's going to do?"
They giggled. They could not help it. Wardress Tamura headed the coffle, her arms tight bound behind her back, the collar locked on her neck. Each female prisoner was similarly tied as the chain prisoned their necks. "The guy's going to make a fortune out of this." Reid enthused. "Never have thought of it myself."
"But they're such a handsome lot of girls... for convicts!" "It's the young ones who go political. They got prison for helping some fool boy friend toss dynamite."
There were two coffles of twenty each. Two trucks roared away, well loaded with female flesh, all helpless, all chained. In the growing light of dawn some of them had smiled as they were thrust over the tailgate. "Those girls were wasted in that rat hole." Burdett bestowed his best sardonic grin. "So were you two. Dam it, you've given me a lot of trouble!" "Aren't we worth it?"
"Hmmmmmmph, still smart ass, eh?" He turned to Reid.
"There you are, you've got 'em. You'd better get to that damn plane of yours. They're nicely attached, so they shouldn't give you any static." "I'm not going." Corey said firmly.
"That handcuff says you have to, love."
"Take it off, then."
It was a silent quartette, each of them aware. Audrey broke it. "She's in love with her Slave Trader, Reid. He actually does own her."
Seth held up the tiny key, his eyes steel gray upon his love. "You know what will happen to you if I use this?"
"Yes, Master. I want it to happen." Seth used the key on Audrey, clipping the freed cuff on the opposite elbow of his slave so that her arms were constrained behind her back. "You two go to the plane. Our little masochist and I'll meet you there in a couple of hours."
After awhile, alone together in the hired car, Corey ventured: "Thank you for taking me back, Master."
"You're nuts, love. No home, no security, just the coffle and a whipping every Friday."
"Thank you, Master. It's all I want."
Burdett sighed. "I know that's true. You wouldn't be sitting there if I didn't."
Corey sat in bliss. The iron on her ankles felt gorgeous: she would wear them always. The bite of chrome above her elbows became the loving clasp of her Master's hands. The blacksmith came as no surprise.
"Please don't have him strike off my anklets, Master?" "Too right I won't! I like 'em. Damn practical."
Corey gasped at the collars the smith placed in line for her approval. "Pick your own, love. You'll wear it forever. Rings front and back for the coffle."
The slave made her choice: heavy iron to match her anklets. She knelt and bent her neck within the opened circle on the anvil. It closed. When the rivets were inserted her sensations were so intense she became fearful of orgasm... The hammer blows mashed metal to form a weld. When she rose, suddenly shy and flushed, her owner kissed her properly for the first time. The snug weight on her neck sent her pulse soaring. "Shouldn't I have one on each wrist, Master?" She asked demurely.
"Damn right! But another time, love." His hand on her cuffed arm propelled her to the car. "You picked the right collar, love. I'm damn proud of you." Corey was proud too. She was a bride with something better than a ring. Reid Hunter inspected her collar with awe, Audrey with adoration. There was much kissing...
Corey would have liked her elbows back, but after all, she was only a slave! Reid Hunter winked as he handed Seth the Slaver an envelope.
"Money." Burdett said laconically. "I can affort to get married if I ever find the right girl." They were back in the car, the plane a dot in the sky. "I couldn't care less." Corey said haughtily. "What are you going to do with me?"
"The trucks are taking the long way round. We'll meet 'em at the usual rendezvous for the coffle. I'm doing it that way to keep the girls out of sight. By the time the trek's ended they'll be in good physical shape and we can slip 'em into the auction cages without a snag. Maybe their boyfriends will buy 'em back."
"Please whip wardress Tamure a little for me, Master?"
"Hell, do it yourself, girl. You'll be free night and morning for the chores. I'll lend you the whip I use on you."
"Thank you, Master. It's a lovely whip." She paused, then asked, shyly: "The coffle's going to be my home, isn't it? You'll keep me chained on it?"
"Always. You'll be my Judas goat."
"Please, never let me free, Master."
"You've had it, love! For sure! Where d'you want to be on the chain? First girl, or on the tail end?"
Corey Gibson glowed. It would be a pleasant option to consider on the journey.