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	Penzance being at most only fifteen miles away, ‘Richenda’ being ‘on hand’ as it were and
not only female but reasonably young and ‘attractive’ – after a style anyway – I gave her
a lift, taking the Morvah road, then turning off onto the moor .    Where I stopped
briefly to look at the spectacular Atlantic view, and invited her to get out of the car to
study it with me.   About seven minutes later, I resumed my journey, though not to
Penzance and with her no longer in the front passenger seat but curled-up quietly in the
car’s trunk, under an old carpet, bound hand and foot every which way with green plastic
duct-tape, gagged with the red rubber penis gag that had once been Christine’s favourite –
and sleeping off the effects of inhaling too much carbon-tetrachloride – ‘dry-cleaning
fluid’.   I reckoned I could get home by next morning and that, with luck, she wouldn’t be
too much the worse for wear, even if she did have a screaming headache and violently
cramped limbs by the time she – and I - got there.  
	  In fact, when I did get her home to Scotland and the cottage she was in a pretty poor
way – it’s a very long journey – and she’d pissed herself several times….. Which,
interestingly enough, was something Christine used to like to be forced to do to do,
preferably dressed in a rubber suit, tied up ad gagged.  

	I’d made no proper plans for the girl’s accommodation – hadn’t even decided what her
duties were to be in her new residence – nor, as it was past midnight when we arrived, did
I feel much like discussing such things with her just then - as she and the car-boot smelt
pretty bad and she herself was both bound hand and foot and dribbling messily from
Christine’s penis-gag.   Which latter didn’t bode too well, for Christine had never
dribbled – or not from that gag at any rate…..  
	Being in need of sleep and a wash and food and some thinking time therefore, I confess
that all I did between arriving home and the next morning was to drag Richenda –
ridiculous name – into the house, roll her over onto her face, thrash the seat of her
jeans fairly thoroughly with a stick – to get her blood circulating again - and to leave
her there while I went to wash, eat and sleep.  Not even bothering to have a good look at
her first…..   She wasn’t going anywhere, after all….

	My new acquisition, Richenda, proved somewhat disappointing, at least initially.  I got
both the duct-tape and her singularly-boring clothes off her, operations which took longer
than I’d anticipated because she co-operated very little over the removal of her bonds and
not at all over the removal of her clothes – which I mostly had to cut off anyway…..  
It’s not a terribly good idea to set-out to free a bound girl of her bonds and then to
strip her when she’s both elaborately-bound with three-inch duct tape, fully clothed, is
soaked and stinking with her own pee, wriggling about – weakly – and, once you’ve got her
gag out, is screaming at you: fortunately she was only wriggling and not trying to leap
about because her arms and legs were too cramped from being rather fiercely tied up during
both most of the previous day and for half the night.   The far less-comfortable steel
ratchet-gag and two pairs of handcuffs from Christine’s ‘toy-trunk’ helped considerably
and would serve for the time being – at least until I was ready to start training her…

	Once she was properly naked, wrists and ankles cuffed and her mouth a wide-stretched,
gurgling, salivating O – courtesy of the ratchet-gag - and was trying to hide her crotch
and tits while rolling about on the floor, I managed to clean her up and remove most of
the stink by hauling her over the door-sill into the yard and turning the yard-hose onto
her before dragging her back indoors again. Having done that, I asked her if she was
prepared to lie quite still while I had a look at her – turning her over again when
necessary so that I could have a look at the rest.   She indicated – at length - however,
that she wasn’t, so through my own lack of foresight, I was obliged to return to the
toy-box again for the rubber tawse which had proved so effective in initially stimulating
– and correcting - Christine.  Don’t get me wrong – I used to merely spank Chris’s
delectable butt with it….  
	Richenda however, I thrashed, and from her bare, pale shoulders all the way down to her
knees – and, because she wouldn’t stay still – anywhere else I succeeded in getting at.  
Then I asked her again if she would stay still when told to…..   Apparently she wouldn’t –
or so I gathered - so I did it again, though I this time I decided to spend a little time
and some considerable energy strapping her down on her back on the kitchen table first: I
suppose that up to that point I was still playing it by ear - but once she was nicely
strapped down, legs wide, and I was able to stand back  - even sit down and watch while
she struggled and trembled and dribbled and tried bleating and moaning through Chris’s
much-used gag – the whole business fell into some sort of order.  
	Effectively, when I began to examine her more thoroughly, I only had to reach out a hand
to Chris’s two ‘toyboxes’ and I would at the same time be able to test her responses to a
whole range of different fun-things.  Not only that, I found I was able in many instances
to control her responses….   For example, strapped-down naked and with her legs very wide
indeed, not only was I able to take my time manually arousing her very pleasant little
clit, but once it was standing up almost like a miniature prick I was able to capture it
in one of Chris’s toothed-brass nipple-clamps and thereafter use a simple tug or two on
the thin chain left hanging from her crotch to encourage her immediate obedience to my
wishes.
	  The ‘Complete Examination of Christine’s Replacement’ – which was how I thought of it
- ended-up taking the rest of the day and well into that night as I added more and
different ‘toys’ and ‘fun things’  to the ’test programme’.     Probably, because I’d
never actually done anything like it before, I overdid it in my eagerness to explore her
responses further and further: suffice to say that when I became weary of my labours it
took me a the best part of half-an-hour to return her to her new ‘default-state’: to
extract the steel ratchet-gag and replace it again with Chris’s rubber-penis version, to
remove the clamps from her tits and her clit, to haul the steel dildo out of her butt –
things like that.   To wipe away any accidental spillages of blood and semen too, of
course…….
	  Whilst I intended to ‘start again’ with her the following morning, I was determined to
continue what had been my practice with Chris; that is to have her as undamaged as
possible at the beginning of each day. “If you move about or roll-about or make any
unnecessary noise” I cautioned her, “I’ll start all over again – and carry on until you
don’t” I yelled.  “I just want to have a look at you for now… It’s late; we’ll start again
properly tomorrow…”