CHAPTER 1

 

On a warm Friday evening close to Easter, Ali piloted her car through narrow Sussex lanes in the very remote South Downs area, looking for a certain entrance to a certain estate.

This was her last 'labour', from which she would gain her sixth confirming letter to complete the collection she was rather proud of. She knew very little about it: she had directions and an address to a sizeable country estate, apparently covering some twelve acres. She knew it would be a weekend, and that there would be other girls involved and a number of men, and Steve had said that it would be the toughest of her assignments.

That no longer really worried her. The tougher events were usually the best, and she was confident in her ability to survive. Fear had gently mutated into the thrill of facing the unknown, without losing its potency. She was looking forward to this.

It took some doing to find the place, even with detailed instructions. She always thought of the south of England as being densely populated, and hadn't realised that there were some areas where the number of people per square mile came close to zero. Eventually Ali identified a dirt track that led from the road, and went up it for over half a mile before she came to the entrance to the estate she was looking for. It was very secluded: there must be no other houses for at least a mile in all directions, she thought. Even so, in the unlikely event of an uninvited visitor wandering by, there was little to see. Two high and solid wooden gates, ten feet high if they were an inch and rather imposing, stood before her. To either side of the gates, stretching away as far as could be seen, was an even higher wall, at least twelve feet, allowing no sight of the land beyond. It made the estate very private, although also giving the appearance of a prison. The barbed wire on top of the wall was discreet, but added to the feeling. Ali got out of the car and rang the ornate bell set in the gate post.

Within a minute or so the gate opened, and a man stepped out. Ali was a little taken aback to see that he wore a sort of butler's uniform, smart and urbane without looking out-dated. He himself matched the uniform, dapper and neat, perhaps in his late forties. She was conscious that she was wearing -shirt and jeans.

"Can I help you, miss?" His voice conveyed both authority and servitude at the same time.

"The Animal Farm meeting?" This was the group's code-name. Ali was pleased that her voice was strong and steady, despite the butterflies that were starting to stir. He enquired her name, consulted a list, and then indicated to her to bring her car inside the gates and park it on the side of the drive. The drive, which curved away into the distance, was wide enough that she could do so and still allow other vehicles to get past. She then followed him into a roadside building which had obviously once been a gatekeeper's cottage.

"If I may have your car keys, miss, I will move your car to a suitable parking space later on." And therefore make sure I don't run away, she thought, but she handed them over.

"Am I the first to arrive?"

"No, miss, I collected two other young ladies from the railway station an hour or so. The other two have yet to arrive."

"So there are five of us. How many men?"

"Eight, miss."

Ah, is there any contract to fill out or anything?"

"Contract, miss?"

"Well, I've been on another weekend somewhere else before and I had to fill out a contract beforehand. It sort of laid out what I was prepared to accept, you know, set limits."

"I'm afraid that you don't have any choice here, miss. You have to take what you get."

"Oh."

"Does that worry you, miss?"

"No, no... well, yes, a little, but I'll get by. Can you give me some idea of how things work, what the ground rules are?" She hesitated, but Steve had said on the 'phone recently that this was a sort of slave setup, so she went on, "I mean, I'll do what I'm told, obviously, but you might have different things that, ah, slaves here are expected to do without being asked. For instance, how do I address the men?"

He nodded. "You're not actually considered slaves. The term that will be used for this weekend is bitches. You will be looked on more as an animal than a slave. The one vitally important point is that animals do not talk. Once you leave this cottage and walk up the road to the house, you must not speak at any time until you return to this cottage on Sunday evening. You can nod or shake your head, and if you are in distress you may cry out, but no words. That includes speaking to the other bitches when the Masters are not present. If another bitch speaks to you, you must report it to a Master at the earliest opportunity, without speaking, of course. There is a most severe penalty for speaking, or not reporting another bitch speaking. Most of our young ladies actually prefer silence: you have total anonymity, and you never have to explain or justify why you are here."

"So we don't even know each other's names?"

"Your own names are not used anyway. The Masters will give each of you a bitch name tonight, and you will be referred to by that name from then on. The names are usually derived from some aspect of your body: for example, well-endowed young ladies are often called 'Melons' or 'Twin Peaks'. We had a virgin here once: she was named 'Snow White', which was changed to 'Blood Red' on Saturday morning."

Ali blushed a little, although she was not a virgin. "Do most girls here, um, that is, are we expected to, er, have sex?"

"I think that a more appropriate way of saying it is that you can expect to be raped. The one promise we do make to you is that condoms will be used. Excuse my asking, miss, but I am required to check: are you a virgin?" Ali shook her head. "Good. One feels that the young lady who was virgo intacta could have chosen a better time and place to be initiated, however. Now, I believe that that covers most things. Instant obedience is expected and lapses will be punished, of course. You don't have to react in any way when a Master approaches unless instructed to. Ignore them until they speak to you. Remember not to speak. The timetable of events is already set, but I am not allowed to divulge any details about that. Is there anything else I may tell you?"

"What do we wear?"

"Only a collar. After all, when did you see a dog wearing anything else? A Master may choose to remove your collar for a while - they all have keys - but he will replace it when he has finished."

"Do you mean we go naked all the time?"

"That is correct."

Ali absorbed this. She had expected to have to be naked at some points, possibly even frequently, during the next two days, but not to be perpetually so. Being nude in the heat of torment wasn't too bad, but all the time? Still, it was a bit late for second thoughts now. Pushing this out of her mind, she asked another question. "Are you a Master yourself?"

"No, miss, I serve purely as the butler. I am assisted by a young lady who doubles as cook and maid, and a young odd job lad. We are above you on the social ladder, so to speak, so you are required to obey us, but we are not Masters.

"Are you a real butler? Whoever owns this place must be loaded."

"I am normally more of a personal secretary. This outfit, and the manner, only appears for these weekends, but I have some experience. The maid also works here. There is a part-time gardener, but he is not here at weekends. The odd job boy is the son of one of the Masters. Their discretion may be relied upon. The owner is also one of the Masters, miss, but should be treated just like the other Masters."

"You don't have to keep calling me miss. Ali will do."

"We must observe formalities, miss. Besides, you should make the most of being treated like a young lady. Once you walk up the drive, everybody, myself included, will treat you rather differently." At that point the gate bell rang, and he excused himself. A minute or so later, Ali saw a BMW disappear up the drive, a man at the wheel, and then the butler re-appeared.

"Do you have a toiletries bag, miss?" he asked.

"On the passenger seat in my car there's a hold-all. I didn't know what to bring, so there's a few changes of clothing in there as well. I suppose I won't need them."

"No. I will see to it that the toiletries are put ready for your use this evening. Now, have you any further questions?" Ali thought for a second or so; there seemed to be very few rules, which meant very few things to fall foul of. Just keep your mouth shut, she thought, and shook her head. "Then, I need you to answer a few questions. How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

He wrote it down, asked her date of birth. "Now, you say you're not a virgin," he made another note, "at what age did you lose your virginity?"

Ali went red. "Is this really necessary? Oh, very well: eighteen."

He looked up for a moment. "Once you go out of here up to the house, it would not be wise to query any question or command."

"I know; sorry."

"That's alright; as I said, your status only changes once you go out of here, but it is as well to be ready. Now, do you have a regular boyfriend?" She shook her head, and he made another mark. "Does anybody living near you know of your activities?" Ali couldn't see the point of the question, but shook her head. "Does anyone know that you will be here this weekend?"

"Only Steve Langley." In response to further questions, she explained what she had told her parents, that she was staying with some old school friends at their university. No, she hadn't said which friends or which university, so there was no way of checking up. He also asked whether there was anything in her room at home to link her with her secret activities. She again replied, no. On Steve's advice, she always kept all correspondence in a locked briefcase in her car, along with her treasured five receipts for her "labours" to which, after this weekend, would be added the sixth and final certificate.

He wrote it all down, and seemed satisfied. Then he said, "over in that corner you will find some baskets. Number three is yours. Would you please remove all articles of clothing and jewellery and place them in the basket."

Ali walked over to the corner, paused for a moment, then took a deep breath and began to undress. She unbuttoned her jeans, then pulled the white T-shirt up and over her head. Normally she wore a bra, but for no particular reason wasn't wearing one at this moment, so after slipping her sandals off, pushing the jeans down and stepping out of them, she was left wearing only minuscule panties, white with vertical purple stripes, and they only lasted a few more seconds. Naked now, and with familiar tingles of excitement, fear and the need to obey, she neatly folded her clothes and placed them over her shoes in the basket. Her watch she put inside the shoes. She noted that two other baskets were already full, with two remaining. Then she returned to face the butler. She always felt embarrassed and humiliated when standing naked before a man for the first time, but she had also been well trained to keep her arms by her sides, leaving herself uncovered and thus intensifying the embarrassment and humiliation. He kept his butler's mask on, apparently showing no interest in her, but his eyes roved discretely. In his hands he now held a collar, which he fastened around her neck. It was made of leather, about an inch and a half wide, with three silver metal loops, each about an inch in diameter, worked into it, one at the front and one on each side. From the front hung a silver-plated chain, light but strong, about a foot long. The links were fused together so that it was more or less silent when it moved. At the end of the chain was a snap lock, also very light. The whole contraption was quite comfortable.

"You close the lock like this," he demonstrated, "but once locked you can't open it without a key, so be careful to get it right." He produced a key and unlocked it. "Now, go up the drive to the house. By the left of the front door you will see a rail. Lock yourself to it and wait." For the first time, his expressionless features softened into a brief comforting smile. "Good luck."

Ali nodded her thanks, careful not to say anything. According to what he had said, the ban on speaking didn't come into being until she left this building and walked up the drive, but, as he had said, she might as well get into the habit now. He held the cottage door open as she stepped out, then without a backward glance she padded barefoot up the tarmac drive. It had been a warm evening when she was dressed, but without clothes it was decidedly cooler. The chain swung to and fro gently and silently in front of her. She knew that she was now at these strangers' mercy. Whether she had become thus when she handed her car keys over, or when she undressed, or when he put the collar on, was debatable, and irrelevant now anyway. The point was, whatever happened now was out of her control. She didn't have to obey, but it would be worse for her if she didn't.

She turned the corner of the drive and saw the house for the first time. It wasn't a stately home, but it was still large. Old and ornate but in good condition, it looked as if it had maybe twenty or thirty rooms on two floors plus an attic floor. Six marble steps led up to a large front door. Built into the wall by the side of the steps was a horizontal black metal rail, perhaps two metres long with a wall clip in the middle breaking it up into two sections. Ali stood in front of it. It was just below her shoulder height. Carefully, she took the end of her chain and locked herself to the rail. The lock clicked tight. Ali gave a little tug and realised that she was now trapped there. She was gradually growing more frightened, but there was nothing to do but wait.

It was possible to face away from the house, but since the chain was attached to the front of her collar it was uncomfortable, so she faced the wall. She had to remain standing, as the rail was too high and the chain too short to allow her to sit or squat. Time passed slowly. She felt a cool evening breeze on her back. She ran her hands over her behind, feeling the smooth satiny flesh and wondering what sort of state it would be in by Sunday evening. Ridged, welted and bruised, no doubt. She had a soft cushion in the car to sit on for the drive home, but even so she expected it to be a painful trip. At home she had cream and lotion, disguised from her parents as beauty aids (which in a sense they were), which she would apply daily until the marks went. In three weeks' time she had a W. W. B. meeting, when she would see Steve again, her tasks now completed. Since she would be 'performing' at the Ball, her bottom would probably be restored just in time for another dose!

She stiffened. A car was coming up the drive. Twisting round, she saw a Rover come into view and then sweep into a courtyard by the side, where she had the impression that other cars were parked. A minute later, a youngish man, maybe 25, well-dressed, walked towards the door. She looked at him, but when he looked back she found herself unable to meet his gaze and lowered her eyes to the floor. His eyes noted her bare body, but otherwise he ignored her and walked past her up to the door, opened it and went inside. What does he think of me, she wondered. Does he wonder why I am here? She felt very small. With this ban on speaking, she would never be able to explain herself, or show herself as an intelligent and educated young woman. She was just a body.

A few minutes later she heard footsteps coming up the drive. Turning again, she saw a young woman, like herself naked except for collar and chain, walking towards the house. She was about Ali's age, very pretty with a firm pert sporty body and lovely jet-black curly hair both on her head and between her legs. The wild curls on her fanny contrasted with Ali's tuft, which was in a more neatly shaved triangle. Since it was so often on display, Ali had recently taken to trimming it slightly into a neat triangle from time to time. The girl walked up to Ali's left side and chained herself, again like Ali, to the rail. She glanced expressionlessly at Ali for a second, and then turned to face the wall. Her hands were clasped loosely in front of her, not to hide anything but just for want of anywhere else to put them. Like Ali's, her nipples were erect, but this was probably due to the cold. Again mindful of the ban on speaking, Ali stared for a moment or two and then also turned to the wall.

Again time passed. Darkness was falling, and so was the temperature. Another smart car arrived, and an older man, maybe mid-forties, walked past them into the house. Ali again looked at him until he looked at her, and then dropped her gaze. The other girl continued to stare at the wall. The house looked warm and inviting, especially after a few spots of rain began to fall. By now Ali was scared, but also intrigued about what was to happen.

It was very gently drizzling when the next car arrived. Three men, chatting merrily away, came round the corner, one of them holding the end of a chain. At the other end was another naked and silent woman. If the girl next to Ali was pretty, this girl was stunning, and her firm large breasts were superb. Her long blonde hair flowed sensuously and framed a delightful face with a perfect complexion. Her deep tan was clearly all-over. Her beauty was not marred by the resigned expression on her face. In the company of these two lovelies, Ali felt every slightest flaw, whether real or imagined, in her own body standing out a mile.

Instead of being chained up next to Ali and her neighbour, the girl was led inside. For a moment Ali wondered if this girl was getting preferential treatment, but a minute or two later the butler showed up, having driven Ali's car into the compound. Obviously everybody was now here and he had locked the gate. He produced a key and unlocked both girls from the wall and, firmly holding the ends of the chains, led them into the house. Ali was by now very nervous.

They were led through a high-ceilinged hall into a sumptuous lounge and lined up with the other girls. Four of the girls' chains were fastened to other girls' collars so that a line of five naked lovelies faced the audience, bodies pressed fairly close together. They were indeed lovelies. Ali only had time for a brief glance, but she reckoned that she was the least attractive facially, and her body, usually her strongest asset, was nothing special here. Once they were in line, with her second in the line, it was difficult to see easily, so she looked instead at the men who would own her for the next 48 hours. There were eight of them lounged around the room, with the butler in attendance. A couple were in their twenties, most probably in their thirties with the one she had seen earlier about mid-forties. They were all well-dressed and looked business-like, men used to wielding power. It was difficult to read much else in their faces, and to tell the truth it was difficult to concentrate on trying. She was too aware of her own nudity.