CHAPTER ONE - JAYNE; LIEUTENANT SANTOS

Jayne Harrison and Rhiannon Stokes looked out across the hills and admired the view.

They were a quite a good sight to see themselves. Both just short of their twentieth birthdays, they were very attractive girls. Jayne was a blonde, with fine hair that she had always worn short and tousled but which of late she had started growing longer so that it now just touched her shoulders. Her figure was excellent, her proportions not far short of the classic hourglass. Rhiannon was a curvy, sultry brunette, whose smouldering looks belied her quiet nature. That nature was part of the reason why Jayne liked her so much: after a very bad experience nearly a year ago, the blonde was averse to domineering types. Rhiannon, on the other hand, liked Jayne because she was supportive without being bossy.

They were both coming to the end of their first year at university. As geology students, the chance had come their way for a field trip to Chile and they were now backpacking from town to town, relaxing in the splendid wilderness between the isolated settlements. Being a long, thin country, Chile varies in weather from the southern tip within the Arctic circle to the northern end well inside the tropics, and as they were north of centre, it was agreeably warm.

Pulling her shoulders back, Jayne inhaled deeply, letting the crisp, clean air fill her lungs. It was good: it refreshed her, made her feel pure, washed away ... certain memories. That was nearly a year ago now, and behind her. She felt good again: she had paid her debt to society, and her life had begun anew. She looked at Rhiannon, who was admiring the view, unaware of her friend's gaze. Rhiannon was a beauty, a real looker; so, Jayne knew without conceit, was she herself. Sometimes, it was nice for such beautiful girls to get away from the boys, to drop all posing, to just be themselves. She'd been wary of this field trip - her last trip abroad had been a very unpleasant experience - but now she was very glad she had come. Rhiannon and she, good friends since their first day at university, had bonded even closer.

Rhiannon, becoming aware of Jayne's gaze, smiled coyly. Averting her gaze, Jayne consulted the map. "We need to aim for that direction," she said, gesturing.

Rhiannon nodded. The terrain was mostly firm moor land, easy going for the two fit girls. "Best way would be to drop through that valley," she observed. "What's that group of buildings over to the right?"

"I don't know," said Jayne. "It's not marked on the map."

"Looks sort of military. Oh well, let's get going."

They made their way down the slope and were half way across the valley floor when they heard the sound of a motor engine. Two jeeps were making their way towards them. As the girls watched, the jeeps pulled up and half a dozen soldiers jumped out. To their shock and considerable concern, automatic rifles and guns were immediately levelled at them.

The commander of the men shouted something in Spanish, but when the girls merely looked baffled he tried again in English. "Stand still and put your hands in the air!" His voice brooked no argument, but the girls, very afraid of the weapons, would not have resisted anyway. Nervously, they raised their arms.

"What is it?" asked Jayne with a tremor-filled voice. "What's wrong?"

"Why are you spying on our base?" the commander barked.

"S-spying? No, we're just geology students on a field trip. We have papers to prove that. We didn't even know the base was there."

"You expect a secret base to be on the maps? All right, get into the jeeps."

"But ... but ..."

Rifle bolts were drawn back. Jayne could tell that the soldiers were tense: a single twitch on a trigger finger and one of the girls could be killed. Hesitantly, she climbed into one of the jeeps, her back pack making it difficult. Rhiannon got into the other jeep. The soldiers all crowded back in, watching the girls closely. Physically, they were too close for comfort. The jeeps raced back to the camp, bumping over the hard ground. The girls were ushered into a room and left there. The door was locked behind them.

The atmosphere eased just a little once the men with guns were gone, but Rhiannon still looked very worried, almost shaking with fear. "What do you think they're doing?" she asked tremulously.

Jayne shook her blonde head. Inside, she could feel her heart pounding against her rib cage. "I don't know, but I don't like it," she replied, finding talking difficult because of her own nerves. "Remember that Chile is still a semi-fascist dictatorship, whatever their propaganda says."

Rhiannon shrugged. "During my gap year, I trekked around half the dictatorships of Asia and I never had a situation like this."

Jayne said nothing. She had also had a year out before going to university, rather less voluntarily, and the less she thought about what she'd had to do during that nightmare time, the happier she was.

The door bursting open interrupted her thoughts. Another officer, senior to the first to judge by his insignia, came in. He glared at the two girls. "The area around this training camp is off limits to civilians, particularly foreigners," he said sharply.

"We didn't know," pleaded Rhiannon. "There were no signs."

He brushed this aside. "You were trespassing on a military installation. That is a serious offence."

"We're not spies," Jayne protested.

"If I thought you were spies, I would be assembling the firing squad right now."

Both girls went hot and cold. "We're British citizens," began Rhiannon defensively.

"I could not care less," the man said dismissively. "However, I do not believe you to be spies, so you are guilty only of trespass. That carries a mandatory sentence of ninety days."

"N-ninety days!" gasped Jayne. Rhiannon also began to plead their case.

The officer waved their protests aside. "That is the standard penalty. However, we have no suitable incarceration facility here and besides, I do not see why you should just lounge around in the cells getting fat and eating our food for nothing. There is a closed resort a hundred miles north of here for government officials and important citizens, as place called Corvalle. You will be sent there to serve your imprisonment terms - as slaves!"

"S-slaves?" Rhiannon gasped.

"Oh God, no, not again," Jayne breathed quietly. She suddenly felt very cold. Rhiannon looked at her curiously.

"Slaves," the officer said firmly. "You are both young and attractive: your assets will be put to good use!"

He turned on his heel and abruptly left the room. Silence fell.

"What are we going to do?" Rhiannon eventually asked.

Jayne went over to the single dusty window and looked out. She had heard the key turn in the door lock after the man had left. Even if they got out of the room, they had little chance of getting off the base and even then the surrounding countryside would afford them nowhere to hide. She had noticed a helicopter at the base: they could be tracked down in minutes. "I don't know," she said quietly.

There was a long silence, heavy with the tension of the girls' fear. It was Rhiannon again who eventually broke it. "Jayne, what did you mean when you said, 'not again'?"

The blonde lowered her head. "I don't want to talk about it," she said.

The door opened again. Jayne was almost thankful for the distraction; almost, but not quite. Another officer entered, looking junior in rank to the one who had just recently left. He sat at the desk, facing the girls. "I am Lieutenant Santos, the general's executive officer. Let's see your passports and papers," he said. It was the first time they had not been barked at.

Both girls handed their documents over. He studied them.

"You speak good English," said Jayne, trying to be friendly in the hope that he would help them.

"Thank you. Most of our senior army officers were educated in England. Amongst the army command, and therefore the national government, English is the dominant language."

He closed the passports, but did not hand them back. "These are in order."

"They prove we're who we say we are," pointed out Rhiannon, a little flicker of hope rising.

He shrugged. "You're probably not spies, I would agree with that. However, it changes nothing. The general has total jurisdiction and he has sentenced you to ninety days. You will find that Chilean law specifically gives an officer of his rank full authority in such cases. It also allows no appeal."

The girls spent some minutes protesting, something they had been too frightened to do with the general. It got them nowhere. This officer, for all his quieter approach, was as inflexible as his boss. Their frustrations and fears began to rise.

"Why are you doing this?" wailed Rhiannon. "And what did he mean when he said ... slaves?"

The executive smiled. "The city to which you will be taken is very isolated. Only people with influence go there, plus those who serve them in one capacity or another. You will serve in the lowest capacity of all." He smiled, but it was not a particularly pleasant smile. "You may harbour the suspicion that the general will get a little commission for delivering two such, ah, useful and decorative baubles, but I could not possibly comment on that."

Rhiannon visibly shivered. Jayne asked quietly, "is this city anything like ... Xanxta?"

The executive raised an eyebrow. "Xanxta? Now how would you know about that place?"

"I've ... read about it," Jayne said defensively.

"I hadn't realised that they'd allowed their secrets out of the bag. Anyway, you've hit the nail right on the head. Corvalle is run on very similar lines, very similar indeed."

"Oh God," Jayne whispered softly.

Rhiannon clearly didn't understand a word of this and perhaps didn't want to. "When we go missing, the British government will want to know where we are," she pointed out.

"And we will tell them," the executive replied with equanimity. "We are perfectly within our rights. However, given the nature of your sentence, you may prefer to hush the whole thing up. I'm sure you could produce a cover story to the effect that you have decided to stay on in Chile for a while longer. We would be prepared to be ... accommodating to such a deception: it would be convenient all around." He rose. "I will give you twenty minutes to consider that option and then, if you decide to go ahead with it, we will take whatever steps are needed to facilitate it. Either way, you will then be transported to the coast where there is a supply boat leaving today for Corvalle. I will return in twenty minutes." He took their passports and documents with him, another nail in their coffins.

As soon as he was gone, Rhiannon turned her beautiful, deep eyes on Jayne. "I don't understand any of this," she said. "What did he mean when he said, 'given the nature of your sentence'?"

"I think you do know, Rhiannon," Jayne said gently, "you just don't want to admit it. We're going to be sex slaves."

Tears welled in Rhiannon's eyes. "Oh no, it can't be true," she breathed quietly.

There was a long silence, the two girls not facing each other. Eventually, Jayne became aware of a very quiet sound. Rhiannon was gently crying. The blonde, her own face ashen, went over and put her arm lightly around her friend.

They hugged each other for some time. Eventually, sniffling, Rhiannon asked plaintively, "is there any way out of this?"

"I don't see any," Jayne admitted bleakly. "He's got our passports, visas, travellers cheques, credit cards, the lot. Even if we got off the base and got away, and I don't see any way of doing that, we're stuck penniless, passport less and hundreds of miles from the nearest British consulate. And you can be sure that, once we get to this city, we'll have even less chance of escaping."

"Is it like that in Xanxta?" Rhiannon asked.

Jayne did not answer at first. "I ... suppose so," she eventually replied quietly.

Rhiannon separated herself from her friend's embrace. "I don't think you're telling me everything," she said directly, fighting back her sniffles. Jayne said nothing and did not meet Rhiannon's eyes. Silence descended again. Rhiannon clearly was not going to be the first one to speak. For the first time in their friendship, a rift lay between them.

"No, I'm not," Jayne admitted in the end. There was another long pause, then she added, "I've been to Xanxta ... as a slave."

"Why did you do that?" Rhiannon prompted.

"Not by choice, I can assure you," Jayne said with feeling. "When I was studying for my 'A' levels, I went to a party one night. I had too much to drink before I drove home. There was ... an accident. The police threw the book at me. The judge sent me to Xanxta as a slave for nine months."

"Don't talk rubbish. A British court wouldn't do something like that."

"This one did. It was a secret deal which I agreed to instead of going to a normal prison."

"Why did you agree to it?"

"I'd still be in prison now, and for a long time to come, if I hadn't."

"Jesus, Jayne, what did you do, run over the chief constable's favourite cat?"

"I don't want to talk about that. Now that you know, I'll tell you anything about the slavery, but not the other part."

Rhiannon nodded, thought for a moment and then looked her friend directly in the eye. The rift had healed. "Will you help me get through my slavery?" For the first time, she was admitting that there seemed no escape from this.

"Of course I will, if I can," Jayne replied. She had come to the same realisation. Her impending doom weighed heavily on her. Horrible, unwanted memories were already flooding back.

There was another period of silence, then they began to discuss the cover story.

The executive officer re-entered the room and looked at the two girls. They were both exceptionally pretty, he thought to himself; it was too bad that the general had decided to send them to Corvalle, but the exec knew that the general was trying to maintain his own regular invitation to that wonderful haven. Of course, a mere exec would never have a chance of going there. Well, such was life and the general was not a man to be crossed.

"Well, ladies," he said easily, "what decision have you come to?"

Jayne stepped forwards. "We don't have much choice, do we? We think we've got a cover story worked out, but there's one condition to all this."

"You're not in a position to make bargains," he pointed out mildly.

"It's only a small one," the blonde persisted. She seemed to be taking this at least partly in her stride, whereas the brunette was looking away, clearly hugely embarrassed. "We want to be kept together. We'll slave, but we want to do it together."

"You needn't worry about being foreigners there. The first language there is English and I gather there are plenty of other girls for you to make friends with."

"Nevertheless," Jayne insisted, "we want to be together."

"Or else what?" the executive asked mildly. Still, it might be worth it to avoid any bad publicity over all this. The general, if the balloon went up, would inevitably ensure that his subordinate took all the blame. "However, I believe that it might be arranged. No promises, though."

That, Jayne felt, was as good as they would get. The conversation moved on to the cover story. She outlined their plan to the army man, who produced writing paper for them to send letters home, noted the various other arrangements which needed to be made and got signatures where needed. The girls were not due back at university until almost the end of term, and then it was just a question of explaining their absence from home during the summer holidays. They had collected enough data for the project arising from their field trip, which was due in at the start of the autumn term, which their sentence would - just about - be ended in time for.

"We'll have to work like stink to get it ready for then" was Rhiannon's only comment to the conversation. Jayne agreed, but did not voice her opinion that working like stink might be the best therapy to help them get over what they were about to have to endure.

"Right," said the exec when everything was sorted, "let's take you over to the helicopter hangar."

The girls put their back packs on once more and followed him over to the hangar. As they went in, Jayne saw two soldiers loading what looked like a large wire animal cage onto the large transport helicopter. The executive officer led them into a side office. He tossed two bin liners onto the floor.

"Get yourselves ready," he instructed. "Put all your belongings in these bags. You can leave the back packs over there. I'll be back in ten minutes." Once again, as he went out, they heard the key turn in the lock.

The two girls unhooked their back-packs and put them where they had been told.

"What does he mean, 'get ready'?" asked Rhiannon. "What do we have to do?"

Jayne sat down on a chair and began unlacing her walking boots. "He means we have to strip off, Rhiannon," she said with a heavy heart.

The brunette went pale. "Oh my God, why?"

"Because we're going to be sex slaves, remember?" Jayne was easing her boots off. Normally, it was a relief after a day's walking to take them off, but not now.

"But it's indecent!"

"For us, yes, but for them it's fun." Jayne was peeling her thick walking socks off now. She dropped them with the boots into one of the bin liners.

"But surely they'll wait until we reach this awful town!"

Jayne smiled very weakly as she undid the buckle of her wrist-watch. "That would make more sense, I agree, but you've got to remember that this executive officer isn't coming with us. He wants a good gawp at us in the nuddy before we get out of his grasp. If we're lucky, that's all he'll want." And pigs might fly, she thought, but she kept that to herself.

Rhiannon sobbed. "Oh, how can I be a slave?"

Jayne was asking herself the same question, except that she was adding the word "again" to it. Right, she'd sort out Rhiannon in a minute, but for now she had to focus on herself. She'd reached the critical point of her undressing: she was barefoot now, and wearing only t-shirt, cut-off jeans, bra and panties.

Remember your training, she told herself, the training she had tried so hard to forget. You are a slave. Your body is there for your masters to see. It's a good body and they have the right to see it.

She'd shown it off a few times at university parties, but this was different: she was being forced to strip, rather than doing it of her own choice. But there was a much more important point as well: by stripping, she was submitting to slavery; she was surrendering to it all once more. It was a crossroads and yet all routes bar one were blocked off, just as it had been nearly two years ago. Jayne felt a sinking feeling of déjà vu.

She took a deep breath, grasped her t-shirt in both hands and pulled it up and over her head. Tossing it into the bin liner, she reached behind her back and undid the clasp of her bra. Moving quickly now that she had a momentum, she dropped the bra into the bin liner, dug her thumbs into her shorts and pushed them and her panties down in one go. Stepping out of them, she put them into the bin liner as well.

She was a naked slave again! And she felt the oppressive yolk of slavery on her now bare shoulders. Nine months ago, she thought she had escaped this forever; now, with incredibly bad luck, she was a victim once more.

And the friend that she had met and come to like during that nine months was in for it too.

Jayne turned to face Rhiannon. The brunette was almost cringing. "Come on, Rhi," she said gently, with the contraction of the name which she used only very rarely, "you can do it." She held out a hand.

The brunette shrank back. "Don't touch me!"

Jayne tried to give her a reassuring smile. She held her hands away from her bare body, brazenly displaying her bare charms. "Come on, it's not that bad. And if you don't, that guy will just call in a squadron of soldiers to tear your clothes off you. Do you want that?"

Again Rhiannon shrank back, wordlessly, but Jayne was backing her into a corner. The girl did not resist when Jayne carefully and lightly took hold of her and began to tug her t-shirt up. Up, up it went, revealing the wholesome white bra, which kept Rhiannon's large breasts in place. Jayne's underwear had been black and frillier - was that perhaps apt, the once and now re-enslaved girl wondered fleetingly? It didn't matter. She'd got her friend's top off now, the brunette neither hindering or helping her, and she was undoing the bra. It came away, allowing Rhiannon's melons to free themselves, but they were good and firm and wobbled only slightly. They were slightly bigger than Jayne's own very reasonable assets.

Jayne was gently undoing the button of Rhiannon's shorts now. The zip came down to reveal another expanse of white undergarment, then the shorts were lowered to reveal smooth, curvy thighs. As in all departments, Rhiannon was slightly bigger than Jayne, but there wasn't a lot in it and the brunette was curvy and very well proportioned. Jayne had never seen her nude but now, leaving the shorts around Rhiannon's ankles, she pulled down her friend's last line of defence. A fairly thick mattress of curly pubic hair covered Rhiannon's privacy, in contrast to Jayne's much more wispy triangle of dark blonde.

"There you go," Jayne soothed. "That wasn't too bad, was it?" She stepped back. Rhiannon stood awkwardly, shorts and knickers around her ankles, still wearing her boots and socks but nothing else apart from her watch. At least, Jayne thought, she wasn't covering herself up, but then there were no men in the room. Not yet.

Defeated and looking rather dazed, Rhiannon sat down in the chair and started to take her boots off. Neither girl spoke: it was a poignant and unhappy time for both of them. As Rhiannon discarded her things, Jayne put them into the bin liner. She left her watch on. "The watch, too," Jayne said softly. Without replying, Rhiannon took it off and handed it to her. It also went into the black bag.

Rhiannon huddled up into a ball. "Now what?" she asked.

Jayne shrugged her bare shoulders. "We wait for them to come back."

A look of panic crossed Rhiannon's face. "With us like this?"

"Get used to it," Jayne advised flatly. "It's not nice, but get used to it. And don't argue with them. Whatever they want, do it. Trust me, it's the easiest way."

Even as she spoke, the door opened and the executive entered. Rhiannon immediately huddled up into an even tighter ball. Jayne spun round to face the officer and then consciously forced her hands away from her body. It was a depressing reminder of what she had suffered in the past, and would now suffer again. She felt her face go red.

"Whatever the executive was about to say or do, the sight of Jayne in the nude stopped him. "Very nice," he smirked as he gave her a long, lustful look. "Very nice indeed."

Jayne said nothing. She knew that by keeping his eyes on her, she would spare Rhiannon a little. He drank in the sight of her luscious young body for a long moment, and then produced a piece of paper and handed it to Jayne without taking his eyes off her sensuous teenage body. "One more thing for you to sign," he said, distractedly.

Jayne scanned the document. It stated that she and Rhiannon had been caught on Chilean military land, had received a fair and reasonable hearing at a military tribunal, had been found innocent of spying but guilty of serious trespass and been sentenced to ninety days imprisonment. It stated that both girls accepted the tribunal ruling as fair and just, and then left spaces for them to sign their names to indicate that the above was all correct.

"Just a little extra insurance in case you kick up a fuss later," the executive explained.

It was a total joke, really, it was so blatantly untrue, but Jayne knew better than to argue. In any case, she had no intention of trying to cause trouble later: it would only result in hideous publicity. She took the executive's proffered pen and signed her name, then turned her back on the officer - knowing his eyes would now be on her nicely curved bottom - and handed the paper to her companion. "Just sign it, Rhiannon," she urged. The brunette took the pen in one hand, shielding herself as much as she could with the other, and scribbled her name without reading the document, then handed it back. Jayne turned back to the executive officer and gave it to him.

"Let's have a look at your friend," the man said.

"Please don't," Jayne begged. "She's struggling with all this. I'll let you do things to me if you want."

"You've got into the spirit of things quickly, haven't you? But unfortunately I don't have time. The helicopter needs to leave quickly if it is to rendezvous with the supply ship for Corvalle, so let's go. No, leave the bin liners here. At the end of your sentence you'll be returned here and you can pick them up then. I'll see to it that they're stored safely."

He ushered them out of the office. Rhiannon hurried along almost bent double, one hand trying in vain to shield her generous bosoms and the other over her hairy crotch. Jayne walked normally, as if she was fully dressed: it was a skill she had once learnt, the hard way. The dusty stone hangar floor felt cold under her bare feet. There were no soldiers around: Jayne theorised that it might be considered bad for morale for the two girls to be seen naked, being shipped off to a place where only the elite were allowed.

They were led aboard the aircraft. Two pilots were going through a pre-flight check. They glanced briefly but lustily at the girls before going back to their preparations.

In the centre of the large cockpit was the wire cage they had seen being loaded earlier. It was between four and five feet square, or rather cube. The only furnishing was a rather mangy blanket on the floor. On one side of the cage a door in the grille was open.

What was required was obvious. Kneeling down - it was impossible otherwise - Rhiannon crawled inside. Jayne followed her. The executive closed the grille door and locked it.

The two girls huddled together. Apart from any other considerations, there was no room to do anything else. They sat, knees drawn up, thighs pressed together, shoulder to shoulder and cheek to cheek. Almost instinctively, Rhiannon's right hand, draped across her body, slipped into Jayne's left.

"How touching," said the executive officer, not quite sneering. "Well, see you in ninety days. He threw a rug over the cage and left the helicopter. Jayne and Rhiannon were plunged into darkness.