CHAPTER THREE: "Barn Storming"
Moments later, Alison's jeep rolled to a stop in front of a large barn
several hundred feet away from the clubhouse.
Discreetly hidden by a grove of evergreens and cottonwoods, the area was
beehive of activity amidst the serene landscape surrounding the clubhouse. Two
muscular males, clad in leather thongs, metal collars about their necks, wrists
and ankles, hurried over to the driver's door of the jeep. The first to reach
the jeep immediately knelt on the hot asphalt.
The footman stepped on the slave's back as he dismounted from the Jeep.
"Take her inside and prepare her," he instructed.
"Yes, sir! Right away, sir!" the two males shouted in unison.
As Lady Meranda's favourite, the footman was shown almost as much
respect as the many Dom's who were constantly in attendance at the West Roissy
Golf and Country Club. He alone was the only slave to be referred to as "sir",
he alone could order punishment for failure to perform household chores
adequately. A former staff sergeant , he ran the operation with military
precision. It was his duty to ensure that everything ran smoothly, so that Lady
Meranda could enjoy herself. All the time.
And if she did not, then he was usually the first to experience her
wrath.
He did not like that, nor want that.
He bore the scars, and the brand, to prove it.
The two males hurried around to the back of the Jeep. Julia was moaning
and whimpering inside her cage, but the well-trained males were oblivious to her
plight. Swiftly, they pulled the cage from the back of the vehicle, and
carefully - but not too gently, placed it and its bound occupant, on the ground.
One male ran into the barn, reappearing a few moments later with a long
wooden stave.
Julia squealed as the male forced the pole through the ends of the cage.
She tried to make herself smaller as the hard wood pressed against her back and
arms.
With a grunt, one on each end of the stave, the two males lifted the
captive girl, cage and all. The cage rocked madly as they trotted toward the
barn door. Each wild swing of the cage increased the torment caused her by the
two plugs invading her intimate holes. Hurting physically and emotionally, Julia
began to cry.
The two males carried her to a holding area next to a small office. She
was placed on the ground, the pole removed. Julia was left alone. Raising her
head, and through her tear soaked eyes, she saw how other new arrivals were
being treated.
Inside the barn, slaves were busy at work washing and grooming other
slaves, cleaning golf clubs and carts, and performing hundreds of other tasks,
menial and otherwise.
Some were occupied instructing the guest's slaves in their upcoming
duties, while other slaves were being punished for mistakes, wrongdoings, or in
more than one instance, just because the master or mistress thought it would be
fun.
Caged as she was, her range of vision was hampered. From what she could
see, she was the only new arrival who was caged. There were several other
slaves, male and female, in the immediate area. All were in some state of
bondage, but that's where the similarities stopped.
There was a male, slender and wiry, who was in what Julia recognized as
the sirik - chains running from a neck collar to wrists and ankles, and joined
in the middle. Mobility was enabled, but it was limited. She noticed that his
collar had a gold dog tag, on which was engraved the name "colin", with a small
"c".
There were others, too, females, bound tightly to a pole-like device
that attached to their neck collars, knees and ankles, forcing them to thrust
their buttocks out in a most vulnerable way. The females lay on their sides,
hands locked tight behind their backs. They could not move. Julia knew her
Maitresse had made inquiries about a device called a "punishment rod"; she
wondered if she was now seeing it in practice.
"Oh!" Julia exclaimed in shock, pain and surprise at the sudden touch
of an electric prod on her exposed butt. She could not turn around to see who it
was that stood behind her. She wondered what she had done to deserve an electric
shock.
"Keep your head down, slave", growled the footman from behind the cage.
"This one belongs to Mistress Alison. She is to be watered, cleaned, and allowed
to stretch, according to her mistress. She will be part of Lady Meranda's
after-dinner entertainment, so any marks are to be discreet and tasteful."
"Yes sir," came a respectful female voice in reply. "Number 27, washed,
cleaned, stretched and designated entertainment. And as for tomorrow, sir?"
"Cart duty."
"Yes sir, she will be measured and fitted right away."
Fear and apprehension rocked Julia's petite frame when she heard the
door to her cage being unlocked. What was to happen to her next? And it was to
be done to her by strangers, not her treasured Maitresse?
"Come out here, twenty-seven," ordered this strange, unseen female.
Beset by cramps and stiff muscles, not to mention her tight environment
and the straps which encircled her wrists, ankles and legs, Julia began to
wriggle her way out of the cage. "Maitresse usually lifts it off me," she
thought as she stuck her head and shoulders through the opening. "Where or where
is my Maitresse?"
"Hurry up, twenty-seven! I don't have all day!" barked the woman.
With a grunt, Julia finally wormed her way out of the cage, and rolled
over in a ball at the feet of her new instructor. She looked up to see a red
haired woman holding a clipboard looking down at her.
"My name is Nevada," the woman stated flatly. "I am Lady Meranda's slave
mistress. She has placed me in charge of getting you and the other guest slaves
cleaned and prepped for the weekend's events. As far as I am concerned, you are
number 27. I don't care if you have a name, to me you're a number, got it?"
Julia nodded her head.
"Good. First, you are to be washed and cleaned. After that, you will be
fitted for your cart duties, and finally, assigned your serving duties for the
dinner tonight." Nevada checked off a number of items on a clipboard she was
holding. Julia noticed that Nevada was also a slave, for she was collared and
wore metal wrist cuffs. The clipboard led to her collar by a fine chain.
"What are you looking at, twenty-seven?" Nevada growled. She made a note
on her clipboard. "That's one punishment too - I don't have time to waste with
you. "
When Julia protested, Nevada smiled slyly and said, "That's a second
punishment, sweetie." She gestured at some males standing nearby. "Here's
number 27 for washing and cleansing. Tell me when she's done - I want to punish
her myself."
The two males picked her up and threw her in a trailer attached to a
golf cart. Several other slaves, male and female, lay huddled on the floor of
the trailer. Nevada grinned as the cart pulled away, before turning to the body
lying before her.
"Twenty-eight!" she roared at her next hapless victim.
----
The water was icy cold, the torrent a burst of needles. Julia writhed
and squeezed her eyes shut as the water raced up and down her suspended form.
The jet was powerful, so strong it hurt the skin wherever it touched.
Nevada maliciously let it tarry against Julia's stretched breasts,
concentrating on the brown buds of her nipples. They hardened with the cold.
Water ran down from the girl's naked skin. She squealed as her tormentor
turned the hose on the tender flesh between her legs. The burst of water against
her clit was exciting and painful at the same time. She tried to twist away from
the onslaught. Her bindings barely allowed her to wriggle and writhe, and there
was to be no escape.
Julia was a pet, pampered and unused to such harsh treatment. She worked
hard to keep herself in top physical condition, like the dancer she had always
wanted to be, because her Maitresse Alison preferred her that way. But this was
getting to be too much for her already.
Julia had been soaped down and scrubbed with a brush that felt rougher
than any loofah, soaked with a warm water shower, then ordered to complete
submerse herself in a tub of water as a final rinse. She had to stand perfectly
still as a male rubbed her everywhere with a soft towel, even between her legs
and up the crack of her buttocks. Using a fresh towel, he had dried her hair,
and brushed it, too.
Washed and dried, the slave girl was herded into a room where she was
measured at the ankle, the knee, around the waist, at the wrist, the neck,
across and even around her breasts. Even her head had been subjected to
measurement, the tape passed around her forehead to the back of her skull. The
number 27 was inscribed with a felt marker discreetly near her left armpit - she
would have to raise her arm for anyone to see it.
Even so, it felt good to be free of her bonds and out of the cage. She
took advantage of every spare moment to stretch and limber her aching muscles.
She was enjoying one of those stretches when she felt the whip across
her ass.
"Well, well," said Nevada. She smiled, tapping her riding crop in her
left palm, as Julia looked over her shoulder to see who had struck her. "I
think we can help you stretch those limbs little girl."
Nevada gestured with her crop to one of the males standing nearby.
"Take her to the punishment room."
And now Julia was suspended, stretched, soaking wet, and very, very
afraid.
The bondage was simple, yet effective. Her hands had been closed into
fists, wrapped in plastic wrap and then covered in black tape, rendering them
totally useless. Her feet had been forced into a device that looked like ballet
boots, only made of unforgiving steel. She could walk, but it took an effort.
But walking was not to be part of her fate. Standing now on the balls of her
feet, Julia's hands were fastened by leather cuffs attached to a metal bar and
suspended as far above her head as she could reach.
Nevada had pushed the girl's feet apart, instructing Julia that if she
put her knees together, she would be strapped to a frame and placed on the
fucking machine.
"Mind you, you just might be on it tonight," she sneered, running more
water across Julia's breasts and belly. She stopped the water spray, and picked
up a bright red flogger. She slowly ran the strands down Julia's shoulder and
breast, wetting them.
"Interesting feeling isn't it?" she said. "I'd prefer to use a leather
one on you my dear, it leaves such lovely marks when it's wet like this, " - she
snapped the flogger at Julia's exposed pussy - "but I can't mark you. So I'll
make do with this rubber one."
The kiss of the wet rubber against her most tender area caused Julia to
cry out in shock and sudden pain.
"Oh, now now," pouted Nevada maliciously. "That didn't hurt, I hardly
touched you."
She snapped her wrist. The red rubber flew through the air with a hiss
and landed with a resounding wet smack.
Julia cried out in pain at the sharp bite of the flogger.
"See, I can strike you harder."
A third slash wrung a scream and a moan.
Nevada moved close to the writhing girl.
"Aw, poor baby, did that hurt?" she cooed. Nevada placed her hand
against the rapidly rising red welts that crisscrossed Julia's lower abdomen.
Julia flinched, but Nevada insisted. She thrust her hand into the warm wet flesh
between her captive's legs.
Julia cried out again as Nevada cruelly pinched her flesh.
"Oh, you don't like that? "
"Nuh, no, Mistress," the girl stammered.
Nevada slapped her across a wet breast, leaving a pink handprint. "I'm
not your mistress. Call me ma'am!" she demanded.
"Yes ma'am," Julia sighed.
Julia turned her head, following Nevada as the woman walked around her
captive. The command "eyes down!" was punctuated with a slash of the rubber
flogger across Julia's pert backside.
"Ow! Yes ma'am!"
"Hmpf," was Nevada's reply. She stood behind the suspended slave. With a
flick of her wrist, the flogger struck out against wet white flesh. Julia begged
and cried out as Nevada proceeded to punish her. After a dozen slashes, Julia's
butt was quite pink and inflamed.
"Too bad I can't mark you," Nevada said, slithering her hand across
Julia's burning cheeks. She slapped the girl's flesh, then ran her hand into the
dark space between her legs.
"oh!" Julia cried out as Nevada thrust two fingers into her captive's
hot moist passage. Moving her hand back and forth, Nevada laughed as Julia began
to pump her hips in rhythm.
"Oh my, you really like this," laughed Nevada when she felt Julia's
inner muscles squeeze her fingers. She began to thrust harder, wriggling her
fingers inside the girl, caressing tender flesh and bringing Julia closer and
closer to an orgasm.
Julia whimpered as Nevada withdrew her fingers. She was so close, and
now, nothing! She screamed as Nevada struck her suddenly again and again and
again with the flogger. The wet rubber strands stung like bees as they slapped
against her already aching labia and clit.
"No-o-!" she moaned, raising her legs in self-defense. The cruel beating
of her wet pussy continued relentlessly. Julia could feel heat building in her
crotch even as each successive blow rained down against her most tender flesh.
The incessant flogging of her clit and slit was going to make her cum, she
realized in horror, shock and pleasure. The heat and intense pain/pleasure built
and grew, spreading from her vagina through her lower belly. Her legs, weighted
down by the steel ballet boots, jerked spasmodically.
Involuntarily, Julia pressed her knees together just as the flogger
kissed her inner thighs.
