(Julia series – Book 2)
ALTHOUGH CHIEF ORGANISER and controller of the Paradise
and all its works, Madame Vesta customarily left general matters of discipline
and training to her numerous assistants.
No one knew better than she how capable they were at carrying out tasks.
Miss Kaufman, for example, the chief overseer, was a
middle aged woman with iron in her soul - a natural disciplinarian to her very
fingertips. Her assistants, such as Miss
Judith and Miss Mara, whilst being somewhat more attractive to look upon, were
scarcely less efficient in their duties.
And sometimes even more enthusiastic.
However, Madame Vesta did make it a practice to inspect
all new arrivals aboard the Paradise so that, when news of Julia's safe arrival
was brought to her, she first of all consulted her records. She read as follows:
JULIA CHANT
Aged 25 years
Anglo-American origin
Occupation: Minor
modelling career in youth. Escort to
numerous wealthy men. Enjoyed life as a
'playgirl'. Became mistress of Quentin
Osman. Cheated the latter both sexually
and financially.
Characteristics:
Tall, good figure, above average in looks.
Figure: 38 - 24 -
38. Long dark hair, blue-green eyes,
aristocratic features. Selfish,
arrogant,, short-tempered.
Madame Vesta smiled faintly as she studied these brief
details. They were fairly typical of the
young women who were sent to her. She
had also learnt at first hand from Quentin something more of Julia's life
style. All in all, she reflected, Julia
made excellent material for the regime aboard the Paradise.
It would be a pleasure, in due course, to present her to
Quentin in a quite remarkably reformed condition.
Madame Vesta lifted the house-phone on her desk.
'Ask Miss Judith to come to my quarters as soon as it is
convenient,' she said.
***
Some five minutes later, a tall attractive blonde in her
early twenties knocked and entered Madame Vesta's cabin. She was clad in the customary garb of a
female overseer... thigh-length black boots, a brief black leather skirt and
tiny bolero jacket to match. Through the
belt above her waist was looped a long leathern thong attached to a short
wooden handle.
'Good evening, Ma'am, she said respectfully.
'Good evening, Miss Judith,' came the reply.
'I am sorry to have kept you waiting, Ma'am,' said the
tall blonde, 'but I was in the middle of giving Tania an extra caning.'
'An extra caning?'
Madame Vesta's voice showed no surprise.
It was flat, almost indifferent.
'Yes, Ma'am,' said Miss Judith, ‘As you may recall, Tania
was on the official Punishment Session this evening... but in my opinion
something additional would not come amiss in her case.'
Madame Vesta nodded.
'I quite understand, Miss Judith,' she said. 'You have a free hand in such matters. Tania is inclined to be a little rebellious,
I believe.'
'I think we can now begin to say was,' answered Miss
Judith with a faint smile.
Madame Vesta nodded again. Her high-cheekboned face remained
impassive. She rarely interfered in
disciplinary matters _ unless she considered them lacking in severity.
'The woman Julia has arrived aboard,' she said. 'Owned by Quentin Osman, the American. You remember him?'
'Indeed, Ma'am,' replied Miss Judith, 'I had heard she
was now on board.'
'When Mr. Osman was on the ship,' continued Madame Vesta,
'he made a specific request that you be put in charge of Julia's training. He seemed to be impressed by your
efficiency.'
Madame Vesta's lips moves slightly in a grim charade of a
smile. On the other hand, Miss Judith
smiled more openly, showing white tigerish teeth.
'I am pleased to receive such a commendation from a
guest,' she said.'
'Well...' said Madame Vesta, 'I intend to put this woman
in your charge. According to Mr. Osman,
she is quite a handful.'
Miss Judith smiled her tigerish smile again. 'He did mention something of that to me,' she
said.
'However,' said Madame Vesta. 'I am sure that will not present many
problems. Life at liberty and life
aboard the Paradise are two rather different things. What were difficulties for Mr. Osman, will
present no difficulties for us.'
'I agree, Ma'am,' said Miss Judith. Her pleasure at the assignment she had been
given was obvious. there was nothing she
liked more than having something of a 'rebel' to deal with!
'Let’s go below then' said Madame Vesta, rising from her
desk. 'We'll have Jason along. He's always quite an impressive sight for a
newcomer.
Jason was one of the two giant Negro overseers on board
the Paradise, both of whom acted as assistants to the female overseers.
Miss Judith went to the house-phone and made the
necessary arrangements, then the two women left the cabin and began to descend
to the lower depths of the ship.
There was a look of smug satisfaction on Miss Judith's
face. It was quite a time since she had
been assigned a newcomer. And a
so-called 'rebel' at that.
***
Though Julia Chant's features were a little grimy and her
clothes somewhat dishevelled, that scarcely detracted from the loveliness of
her features and her figure. It was scarcely
surprising she looked as crumpled as she did, having travelled under sedation
in a packing case for a considerable number of days _ the normal method of
shipment of 'cargo' despatched to the Paradise.
She stood in the centre of a small, bare cabin, her arms
aloft and held by manacles and chains.
'Stood' is not exactly the right word for, being still semi-conscious,
she was half erect by the manacles about her wrists rather than by her own
volition. Madame Vesta and Miss Judith
studied the tall, shapely figure which was now in their possession.
'Mr. Osman certainly has good taste,' remarked Miss
Judith.
'Indeed,' replied Madame Vesta perfunctorily. She switched on an overhead spotlight so that
Julia was more strongly illuminated.
'All the same,' she added, 'he does not like being two-timed.'
'Naturally,' said Miss Judith. 'Well, she'll soon learn that now. Shall I give her an injection?'
'Please do.' answered Madame Vesta.
Miss Judith advanced with the hypodermic she had brought
with her and plunged the needle into the side of Julia Chant's neck. It was the first of the daily injections
Julia would be receiving from that moment on.
They were a special stimulant which prolonged powers of endurance
remarkably. Also they ensured that a far
greater physical effort than normal was possible. Without the stimulant a girl would have
fainted long before through pain, shock or fatigue... so it was a most valuable
asset in the regime of the Paradise.
Valuable... but scarcely welcome by those who receive it!
Julia's large, wide-set eyes opened a few moments after
the needle had been removed from her neck.
They had a liquid luminosity about them _ but a bewildered blankness
too.
'W-What has happened... to me?' she asked in a hoarse
whisper. 'Have... have I had an
accident?'
'No,' said Madame Vesta with a sardonic smile. 'Your presence here is by design.'
Julia's eyes took on a deeper bewilderment. She looked up, seeing the chains and manacles
that held her.
'M-My . . . wrists are hurting,' she said weakly. 'Please take these .. these things off and let my arms
down. They ache awfully. Is . . . is this some sort of hospital? Please tell me what has happened. I remember I was in that taxi ... then I got
drowsy....'
No reply came.
Madame Vesta was waiting for the
stimulant to get a stronger hold.
'Who are you?' asked Julia plaintively. 'Where am I?'
'All in good time,' said Miss Judith.
'Let me out of these things. It's hurting, I tell you. What the Hell's going on?' There was a flash of anger both in Julia's
voice and her eyes. She was beginning to
come to life properly again. 'Don't just
stand there . . . do something, whoever you are,' she snapped.
Again no answer was forthcoming.
'Do you hear me?'
Julia almost yelled. 'I'm called
Julia Chant . . . and I don't know what game you're playing . . . but you'll
certainly pay for it!'
Madame Vesta stepped forward casually. Then she gave Julia's face two stinging
slaps. Extremely hard slaps, across
right and left cheeks.
'Let’s get your head a little clearer, my girl,' she
said.
Julia's mouth gaped in shock ... then a stream of
vituperation came from it. One could
scarcely call it the kind of language one would have expected to hear from a
young woman of her background.
Madame Vesta slapped Julia's face again. This time she got two resounding slaps on
each cheek and her head jerked from side to side as if she were a rag doll
being shaken. Momentarily she was
stunned into silence. Then a further
stream of vituperation came from her... culminating with threats of what she
would do as soon as she got her hands free.
'This is assault!'
she screeched. 'I... .I... I'll see you go inside for this. . . oh my
God. . . I'll kill you for this!'
Miss Judith smiled delightedly. It seemed that this Julia had as much spirit
as she had hoped.
'Now listen to me...' said Madame Vesta, gripping Julia
by a hank of rich, glossy black hair.
'I won't... I won't... let me go!' cried Julia, now
distraught. The fury blazed from those
glinting blue-green eyes.
Unhurriedly, methodically, Madame Vesta smacked Julia's
face again. This time four smashing
slaps fell on each cheek and, head reeling and ringing, Julia slumped in her
chains.
'Oh... oh you b-beast.... how c-can you...' she sobbed.
Madame Vesta took hold of the girl's hair again. 'I told you to listen to me,' she said
calmly. 'Are you going to or not? I don't mind slapping your pretty face all
night if need be.'
For perhaps the first time a flicker of fear passed over
Julia's face. She realised that
something quite unpredictable ... quite ghastly ... had happened to her. She must have been kidnapped by these
horrible women. She was being held to
ransom. Well, thank God Quentin was
well-heeled. He'd pay whatever asked,
the stupid bastard. No... she mustn't
think of him like that not any more.
Suddenly he had become her lifeline.
Julia swallowed, trying to get a grip on herself. Her ears were still ringing and her cheeks
felt aflame. I must keep calm, she told
herself.
'I... I'll listen,' she managed to say, with all the
meekness she could muster.
'The first thing to get into your skull, girl,' said
Madame Vesta, maintaining a grip on Julia's hair, 'is that your life is no
longer your own. You are now a captive
slave-girl, owned by Quentin Osman... and here, on board my ship, for
training. For training to his
requirements and satisfaction.'
Julia's mouth sagged.
Her face, scarcely surprising, looked uncomprehending.
'What are you talking about?' she said. You must be mad. A slave? Of Quentin? Oh ... don't be ridiculous...'
Remorselessly, Madame Vesta slapped Julia's face left and
right again. Four more slaps on each
cheek ... until Julia was crying out half hysterically.
'S-Stop...oh...stop it...stop!'
'If you ever call me mad again,' said Madame Vesta menacingly,
'I'll have you whipped until the blood runs.'
Julia froze, then shuddered violently. A clarion of bells were reeling through her
head. What was this nightmare?
'Whipped?' she croaked, between sobs, 'what . . . what .
. . oh no ... you must be...'
Her voice dried up.
Just in time she had checked herself.
She must humour these imbeciles.
She must be careful. Her life was
in danger. How it had all happened . . .
even exactly what had happened . . . and an inexplicable mystery. If she kept her head, all might still be
well.
'Yes . . . whipped.' said Madame Vesta icily. 'And now I will repeat what I said ... and
you will remain silent, girl.
Julia bridled at the contemptuous form of address but,
biting her lips, managed to remain silent.
She did not want to invite any more of those murderous slaps from this
madwoman.
Coldly Madame Vesta repeated the facts of Julia's new
situation. That she was now a
slave. Sent there by Quentin. That she was but one of many such. That, in due time, Quentin would arrive and
see her as a reformed character. As his
slave.
At this point Julia's patience snapped.
'His slave,' she almost snarled. 'That fat slob!'
The relentless face-slapping was resumed, until Julia was
in a state of near delirium.
'When Mr. Osman arrives, in a month or two's time,' said
Madame Vesta above Julia's retching sobs.
'You will be happy to go on your knees and beg to be allowed to have the
honour of kissing the arse of that fat slob _ as you so arrogantly call him.'
'No ... oh no ...' moaned Julia. 'It . . . it . . . mmmfff ... c-can't be true
. . . it can't be real . . . this . . . this must be a nightmare. Oh please let me wake up . . .p-please. . .
let me go...'
'Give her another injection, please Miss Judith,' said
Madame Vesta. 'It won't do any harm at
this stage.'
Miss Judith was quick to comply, with Julia desperately
trying to cringe away from the needle.
'You may be interested to know that I am going to be in
charge of your training, Julia.' said Miss Judith as she jabbed. 'Mr Osman requested it . . . and I think I'm
going to rather enjoy it.'
'Osman...Osman has been here?' croaked Julia. 'I can't believe it . . . I can't understand
it . . . it . . . it . . . it's all s-so . . . impossible...'
'Of course,' responded Madame Vesta, 'it is always a
little difficult for any girl to comprehend at first. Such words, such statements are difficult to
take in. A practical demonstration of
the facts is, however, more convincing.'
She turned to Miss Judith. 'You
gave Jason his instructions?'
'Yes, Ma'am,' answered the blonde overseer. 'He is bringing Rebecca with him.'
Julia, eyes wide, was looking disbelievingly from one
woman to the other. Every moment her
predicament was seeming to get even more frightful than it had seemed at the
outset.
'Ah yes . . .Rebecca,' said Madame Vesta. She turned back to Julia. 'Rebecca is the slave of a friend of Mr.
Osman's. A certain Otto Gerber. She has been here for some time now . . . and
learnt to behave herself.'
There was knock on the cabin door.
'Come in,' called Madame Vesta
The door opened and Jason, one of the two massive Negro
assistants aboard, entered. As usual he
was naked, but for a brief white triangle of cloth about his loins. The triangle bulged prodigiously; the Negroes
body glistened with oil under the harsh light.
A choking sound came from Julia . . . and then a disbelieving, wailing
cry.
For behind Jason came Rebecca, a voluptuous red-head,
slave of Otto Gerber. She was naked and
crawling meekly on all fours, led by a collar and lead.
'Herr Gerber,' said Madame Vesta complacently, 'likes
Rebecca to be exercised a couple of times a day. Jason usually takes her on a little
tour. This seemed an appropriate stopping
point this evening.'
Mouth agape, Julia's face quivered with incredulity. Her eyes were starting from her head.
'No . . . oh . . . no . . . oh . . . no . . . no' she
whimpered as she gazed on the crouching figure.
'Kiss your Master's feet, slave,' said Madame Vesta
peremptorily.
Without hesitation, Rebecca's mouth pressed to the black
flesh.
'No ... oh ... no ... no...' Julia continued to whimper.
This is a nightmare, she told herself. I must wake up soon!
'Show your bottom to this girl,' said Madame Vesta.
Again without hesitation, Rebecca moved so that her voluptuous
hindquarters were directly towards Julia.
A dozen freshly-raised twin-track cane weals encircled the lush white
flesh.
'NO!' Julia almost
shrieked.
'Before Rebecca was brought here,' said Madame Vesta,
quite unmoved by Julia's reaction, 'she was caned. Caned by Jason here. One of my assistants. Not, I may say, for any fault on this
occasion, but merely to demonstrate to you, my girl, that any slave aboard this
ship can be thrashed at any time . . . Julia for any reason or none. Simply at my command. And you . . . Julia . . . you are now such a
slave!'
Julia's eyes dilated in horror.
'No ... no ... NO ... OOO!' she cried. 'I can't believe it... I won't ... I won't
believe it . . . it . . . it's
impossible! It's hideous . . . it . . .
it's disgusting . . . ooohhh . . . that poor woman .... ohhh ... you will pay
for this vile monstrosity!'
Madame Vesta's face remained impassive. She was all too familiar with such outbursts
from newcomers. It was something, to one
degree or another, that they all went through.
Just part of the process.
Disbelief ... desperation ... they were all quite
natural.
After a few weeks there was a fatalist acceptance.
Then they truly knew they were slaves.
'Up!' ordered Madame Vesta.
Jason gave a tug on the lead and Rebecca sprang to her
feet, setting her fulsome white breasts bouncing. Her flesh was velvety, creamy white. Her features were sharp, her nose long; the
red hair fell to her smooth shoulders.
In her hazel coloured eyes was that familiar look of despair acquired by
a trained slave. Her body hair had been
shaved. That was an order of her owner,
Otto Gerber. Round her waist was a slim
silver chain.
'Put her on a hook!' ordered Madame Vesta.
The Negro assistant led Rebecca to the wall and fastened
the leash to one of the strong hooks projecting.
'Are you beginning to believe me, girl?' asked Madame
Vesta.
'No ... no ... it can't be true...' was all Julia could
whimper. Yet her eyes were fastened with
a hideous fascination on Rebecca's docile nakedness as she stood submissively
leashed to the hook.
'Well then' said Madame Vesta calmly, 'we shall have to
continue to make you believe that you are now a slave. It does take rather longer with some than
others.' She turned to the black
giant. 'Jason,' she ordered, 'strip this
creature naked. Let's look at the wares
which she prizes so highly.'
Jason stepped forward slowly. His strong teeth showed suddenly and
startling white. A mixture of amusement
and lust. He too enjoyed a newcomer.
'NO . . . OOOO!' cried Julia, her voice almost
screeching. She recoiled back as far as
the manacles and chains would allow. She
had a natural aversion to coloured people anyway.
Casually Jason hooked his finger into the top of her
dishevelled dress.
'NO... NO... OOOOO!' cried Julia again.
In one easy movement Jason's finger opened her dress from
neck to hem, to reveal a brief bra and pantie set of rose-pink net. The firm fulsomeness of her figure was even
better revealed.
'You . . . you beast . . . you filthy b-beast . . .stop
it . . . stop it . . .' screamed Julia, twisting violently this way and
that. 'How dare you . . . I'll kill you
. . . I'll kill you!'
Unhurriedly Jason hooked his finger into Julia's flimsy
brassiere and ripped that away too. Her
white, strong-nippled breasts came thrusting out, swinging wildly with her
attempts at evasion. Madame Vesta
regarded them stonily, but there was a hint of appreciation in Miss Judith's
eyes. Yes... Mr. Osman certainly had
good taste. Julia was one of the better
developed arrivals for some time.
You ... you devils ... you ... you swine ... oh God...
you'll pay for this ...' Julia's eyes were blazing fierily; her mouth was a
quivering gape of shocked horror.
Jason's finger went to the sole remaining brief garment,
pulling teasingly on the elastic of the panties. As he well knew, this would be the last time
Julia had any covering of that nature, unless her master decreed.
'NO ... YOU CAN'T ... YOU CAN'T!' came the wailing cry.
In her desperation, Julia jerked her head forward and her
teeth snapped at Jason's biceps like a cat trying to catch a fly. Accustomed to such tactics, he avoided her
easily ... and ripped the panties away.
Julia swung there, now completely naked in her chains,
her features a contorted frenzy of hate and fury.
Monsters ... aaaggghhh ... you monsters!' she screeched hoarsely.
Madame Vesta remained impassive, Miss Judith smiled
benignly being very pleased with her charge’s display of spirit
The body revealed could scarcely be faulted. It was full and lush yet superbly
proportioned. Upthrusting breasts,
smooth curving belly, swelling hips, long thighs.
'Slaves do not try to bite,' said Madame Vesta, giving
Jason a nod.
Jason moved around behind the still twisting Julia. He was no novice at this sort of
initiation. He surveyed the curvaceous
quivering white bottom with considerable satisfaction ... and then he slapped
it hard.
He slapped it hard again and again, with Julia yelping
loudly with pain and shock. The slaps
on her face had been horrifying enough ... but to have this black brute
smacking her bottom was a humiliation beyond anything she had imagined
possible.
Jason's hard black palm fell first on one cheek then
another... and Julia squirmed ever more frenziedly. Both with the pain of the
slaps and in an attempt to avoid them.