A Gentleman's Property Read online

  In another cabin two women, a blonde and a brunette, seemingly welded into one, were suspended from the ceiling by a single rope. Their faces were locked together lip to lip by a double phallus gag, and nose to nose by a short chain passed through the pierced septum of each. Their nipples and navels were linked one to another by single rings, and the bodies then squashed together by a broad belt. The cunts were impaled by the two ends of a flexible snake, and the feet were bound heel to heel. A gloved man was beating them with stinging nettles, constantly renewed from a large tub. As she was struck each woman struggled desperately to twist the rope and shelter herself behind the other. The one being hit had the greatest incentive to effort, so the rope was constantly turning. The backs and bottoms of both were covered in red blotches.

  Sped on her way by the appreciative comments of these stray spectators, Mary crawled down what seemed like endless corridors before she was finally ordered to halt in a lobby outside a pair of double doors. Her guides opened one each, and Mary was urged forward again, into a large room blazing with light. She could not at once take in her surroundings with any accuracy because of the awkward position of her neck, but she could see that there were a number of people sitting in armchairs around the walls. The centre of the saloon was dominated by a floodlit platform on which was mounted a peculiar double treadmill.

  Before Mary had time to worry too much about the significance of this piece of equipment, Climp ordered her to crawl round the room presenting her rudely exposed and highly decorated cunt to each member in turn, while announcing her name.

  It took a lot of will power to force out the first "I am your slave Mary Bowdler, master," and to listen to the gasp of astonishment at her dimensions, but by the fifth repetition the words were sliding almost glibly from her tongue. This was unfortunate, for at once she heard a familiar voice exclaim angrily,

  "I thought we had settled that you were to call me 'sir'!"

  Before she had time to apologise Ogden had taken firm hold of a clump of her pubic plaits, and slapped his chubby palm sharply upwards three times against her exposed belly. The sudden agony propelled Mary into as close an imitation of a dance as her bondage would allow, and set off a royal peal on her bells.

  When she had recovered enough composure to resume her circuit Mary soon made another mistake, for when she introduced herself to another invisible 'master' she heard a quiet voice behind her purr "You must address me as ‘Madame’." Mary feared further punishment, but was not sure whether to feel relieved or not when the woman merely whispered, with a slight French accent, "I will show you the difference between a man and a woman when I have you alone."

  Roland Climp, who had been following Mary on her circuit, paused to effect an introduction.

  "This is Madame Colet, Mary, one of our few lady members. I expect you wore her bras and knickers in the days when you were allowed such frivolities."

  "No, master, I could never afford them," replied the awestruck Mary.

  "Well, this time next year you will be able buy a whole shop full if you like. Console yourself with that thought. Now continue."

  Mary completed her task without further mishap, and Climp was very pleased with the fulsome compliments paid to his creation by several of the members.

  He and Sir Roger now freed her from her straps and poles, and she was fearful that she was about to form a closer acquaintance with the treadmill. Instead a low stool was placed for her in a prime viewing position a few yards in front of the platform. No ordinary stool, though, as she found when she was drawn closer to it. The seat, about a foot square, was composed of slats of an inch wide, with quarter inch gaps between them. Mounted on the slats were a multitude of tiny wooden spikes, like the ends of cocktail sticks, thrusting up in a manner most threatening to anyone thinking of sitting on the stool, or liable to be forced down on it.

  Mary was made to straddle her legs widely, and to crouch down with her back to the stool, her rump on a level with the seat. The agile hairdresser lay down beneath her again, and ordered her to shuffle backwards very slowly while he slotted her bells one by one into the spaces between the slats. When they were all inserted, he replaced and locked the cross bar at the front of the stool to close the gaps, and to trap the bells beneath the seat. She was collared and cuffed, and her hands were fastened at the back of her neck.

  Mary found herself in a most awkward predicament. She was crouched uncomfortably over the stool, as if about to relieve herself in a lavatory where she was unconvinced of the cleanliness of the seat. She could not rise a fraction of an inch before the bells locked tight against the underside of the stool, causing the plaits to tug fiercely at her mount. When she tried to ease the strain in her thighs by lowering herself gently onto the pincushion seat her pendulous sex lips made first stinging contact with the prickles, and made her jerk convulsively upwards. The sudden tug on her pubic hair sent her plunging down again, and it was some time before she could recover the only tolerably pain-free position, hovering uneasily half an inch above the pins, and praying that cramp would not set in.

  While Mary was testing the possibilities of her position, and providing great incidental amusement to the members seated behind her, a very small bespectacled man had left the saloon, and now returned leading a statuesque and strikingly beautiful woman of thirty or more. She was entirely naked. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, and it was by means of a thin leather leash attached to these cuffs, and drawn forward between her legs, that the man was dragging the reluctant beauty towards the platform. As she struggled her master raised his end of the leash higher, above his head in fact, forcing the leather more tightly between the shaven lips of her cunt. A short dose of this treatment persuaded her to docility.

  Mary at first thought that the woman was also expressing her defiance by sticking her tongue out, but as she drew closer it became obvious that her tongue had been pierced, and that twin chains, very fine and almost invisible, descended from the jewel inserted there to the rings in her pierced nipples. She could not withdraw her tongue, and consequently could not speak!

  "Helmut," called out Sir Roger, as the man with the leash was about to mount the steps of the platform, "a moment if you please."

  The little master strutted across to Mary's stool, forcing the buxom slave to trot along behind him in a way that set her large breasts bouncing, and forced her to protrude her tongue even further to compensate.

  "Helmut, this is Miss Mary Bowdler. Mary, Herr Helmut Holle."

  "Master."

  "And the brazen creature on the end of his leash is Lady Lathom. No doubt you will have seen her photograph in the society columns."

  "Lady Chatterbox!" exclaimed the astonished Mary.

  "Evidently your taste in newspapers is not of the purest. Yes, I am sorry to say that has been her ladyship's sobriquet in the murkier corners of Fleet Street. But now we are learning how to remain silent, are we not, Boxy?"

  "Uurrr," said Lady Lathom.

  "You look as if you want to ask a question, Mary. Feel free, if that is the right word."

  "How, master...?"

  "How does such a well-known celebrity find herself in such a position? A very sad story. Will you tell it, Lady Lathom, or shall I?"

  "Aarrr."

  "Very well. Right out of school our lovely slave married Sir George Lathom, the tenth baronet."

  "Nnggg."

  "Ninth, was it? Possibly you're right, my dear. Sir George was a war hero invalided home, and it was by blurting out to the press the embarrassing nature of his wound that her ladyship first earned the unfortunate nickname you have mentioned. After the war the Lathoms became leaders of society, or at least the parts of society written about in the popular press. Lady L. in particular was the darling of the editors, and her picture appeared everywhere. I am sure you must have envied her, Mary."

  "I did, Sir Roger
."

  "But last year Sir George died suddenly. Lady L. consoled herself with the expectation of being a very wealthy widow. What was her astonishment to discover that she had inherited nothing but debts! To make matters worse Herr Holle was the principal creditor, with 100% mortgages on her town and country houses. And Herr Holle was a man whose advances her ladyship had once spurned in a very scornful fashion. Most embarrassing for a lady, as I am sure you will agree"

  "Yes, Sir Roger."

  "Especially as poor Boxy had not the slightest talent for earning a living, except possibly on her back. Herr Holle, who has been a valued member of our club since ’35, immediately saw the chance of recruiting an outstanding slave. But in view of his own unhappy relations with the lady he most flatteringly placed the negotiations in my hands."

  "Better could impossibly have been found," put in Herr Holle courteously.

  "Thank you, Helmut. It did not take me long to persuade her ladyship that a year as guest of the club, followed by a resumption of her reign as a queen of society, was infinitely preferable to a lifetime's drudgery in an office or a factory. So it was announced in the papers, most of which are ultimately owned by our members, by the way, that Lady Lathom would be taking a long cruise to help her to recover from the shock of her loss. She had a more genuine shock to encounter, of course, when she came aboard and discovered that Herr Holle was a member of our club, and what was more had actually been her sponsor for associate membership."

  The ugly little German gave a sinister laugh and tugged playfully at Lady Lathom's leash, causing her to grunt loudly and teeter forwards on tiptoe.

  "Sponsors have special responsibilities and privileges, as you will discover, Mary, when you meet your own, the good Mr.Morimoto. But if we had a surprise in store for Lady L., she had an even greater one for us. I would ask her to explain personally, but she is far too shy. Would you believe, Mary, that the lady came to us a virgin? It is not so strange that she went to the altar pure, because she was very young. And we know from her own loose talk that Sir George was not equipped to change that part of her condition. But who could ever have imagined that she had turned down all the hundreds of propositions she received during her years in society? The revelation might almost have cooled Herr Holle's resentment, if only she had not made her rejection of him so very rude and personal."

  "'Ugly little Kraut'," hissed Helmut, giving another vicious tug to the leash. "This you will swallow!"

  "But perhaps most surprising of all, to a newcomer like yourself," continued Sir Roger, "is that Lady Lathom is still a virgin at this very moment. When such unexpected pleasures come our way we like to make them last, you see. But of course that has required the taking of special precautions. Will you demonstrate, Helmut?"

  Herr Holle was delighted.

  "On your back, bitch, if you please," he barked. "In this place, where all may see."

  Another vicious tug resolved any doubts Lady Lathom may have had about obeying. She dropped to her knees in front of Mary's stool and then eased herself onto her back, carefully keeping her heels tight against her buttocks, so that the centre of interest for the spectators was completely hidden. The leash was clamped between her lovely ankles.

  "Such modesty!" said Sir Roger. "But we have the cure."

  Herr Holle now armed himself with a long, whippy cane, and began to rap out orders like a sergeant-major, though this did not indicate any military background. His age and industrial importance had shielded him from any direct part in the recent conflict.

  "Hands behind knees. Legs apart. More apart. Much more! Knees back. Beside the breasts. Higher!"

  When these commands were not obeyed quickly or accurately enough to satisfy him Herr Holle emphasised them with sharp cracks of his cane to the offending parts of Lady Lathom's body. The conclusion of the drill left the unfortunate victim's private parts as public as the town square. Mary took one look, and then closed her eyes tightly, an action which did not please Sir Roger at all.

  "Really, Mary. Considering that this display had been arranged entirely for your edification, you really are showing a lack of appreciation that is little short of insulting. Now open your eyes at once."

  And to emphasise the command Sir Roger lashed his crop against her bottom, setting off another painful crisis of equilibrium. When Mary was able to concentrate on anything except the problem of how to remain perfectly still, Sir Roger redirected her attention to Lady Lathom's blatantly exposed cunt. Mary had seen in her first horrified glance that the outer lips had been pierced in several places, and joined together in some barbaric way. The two men now showed her that the link was effected by a length of fine chain, held in place by the tiniest of padlocks, in the shape of a heart. Herr Holle's leash had been threaded underneath the chain, which was so fine and tight to her body that it had been invisible when Lady L was standing. For several inches the leash had in fact insinuated itself into the narrow crack left by the chain between her sex lips, and whenever Helmut pulled on it the thin strip of leather rubbed invisibly against the core of her sensibilities.

  "You observe," said Sir Roger to the now wholly attentive Mary, "that the chain and padlock - to which only Herr Holle holds the key - entirely prevent any impatient member thinking of penetrating the lady until the club is quite ready to pluck this cherry. But at the same time the device does not in the least interfere with the natural functions. Which is just as well, because Lady Lathom pisses like a mare, and we should be sorry to be deprived of that entertainment. Is she ready to demonstrate, Helmut?"

  "Yes, yes, my friend, I have saved her."

  "Then let us see, my dear fellow."

  A chamber pot was produced from a cupboard, in which Mary glimpsed shelves full of strange objects, for most of which she could not imagine a use. She noticed with amazement that the pot had been exquisitely painted inside and out with scenes of outrageous urinary perversion.

  Lady Lathom was ordered to her feet, and Helmut, none too gently, pulled the leash backwards through her legs, causing it to run at burning speed between the compressed lips of her cunt. She gave a series of faint mews, and a final loud grunt when the double thickness of the loop finally squeezed between the chain and her clit.

  "Will your ladyship please squat?" Sir Roger asked politely. "She has had plenty of practice curtseying," he added parenthetically to Mary, "and the action is not dissimilar." It soon appeared that the unfortunate Lady Lathom had been forbidden to ease her bladder for so many hours that she was glad to obey, even in the middle of that crowded company. She settled down over the pot with her legs widely spread, her back straight, and her hands clasped behind her neck. With her tongue protruding so comically she might have been mistaken for a naughty child attempting to shock its parents, had not the voluptuous curves of her magnificent body banished any such thought. Her position was so unnatural for the act she was about to perform that Mary could not doubt that Lady Lathom had often before been called upon to piss in public, and did not have to be instructed in the expected posture.

  "I will count up from one to ten," barked Helmut, "and as I say 'ten', but not before, you will begin to entertain us."

  It was clear that having got into position Lady Lathom was having some difficulty in retaining control. Mary saw her screw up her eyes in a desperate effort to concentrate, and as Herr Holle counted with torturing slowness the lower part of her body began to gyrate in a rhythm strangely reminiscent of fucking. While the German hesitated cruelly between 'nine' and 'ten' Mary could see the sex lips of his victim quivering as much as the grip of the golden chain would allow.

  "Ten!" shouted Helmut, and almost before he had completed the word the sound was drowned out by a loud hiss and merry tinkle as the yellow stream hit the bottom of the chamber pot and began to hide the lewd scene painted there. The constriction of the labia meant that the flow was slower and more broken than would otherw
ise have been the case, and Lady Lathom was clearly a copious pisser, so the spectators enjoyed a far more extended entertainment than Mary had expected. All the while the nearby members kept up a flow of ribald comment. They were particularly pleased with the deep flush which had suffused the lady's face and neck, and she received several ironical compliments on her modesty and purity. When she had finally finished, and the flow had slackened to an occasional drip, Madame Colet, who had been crouching down behind the performer to enjoy a closer look at her act, jumped up and exclaimed with mock concern,

  "But gentlemen, you have forgotten to provide a cloth, or even any paper. How is she to be cleaned - unless" (glancing with sparkling eyes at Mary), "unless our new friend here can be persuaded to assist with her tongue."

  This suggestion was greeted with acclamation, and in seconds Lady Lathom had been urged onto two stools set on either side of Mary's, and the new slave found herself contemplating a glistening and naked cunt from a range of two inches. She had never seen one so close, and very ugly she thought it.

  "Lick up every drop, darling," purred Madame Colet, and when Mary compressed her lips and averted her head she turned to Roland and asked him to ring a few bells. The hairdresser immediately knelt down behind Mary's stool and, reaching under it, began to jerk various of her pubic bells in a random pattern of pain. Their tinkling was nearly drowned by Mary's plaintive yelps, and before Climp had rung a half peal she found herself overcome by an unimagined thirst for piss.