Was it less than an hour ago, Sarah thought, that they had been driven here through the
traffic? Driven to this place of perverted evil, surrounded by happy carefree people on
the passing streets unknowing of the fate to which she and her husband had to subject
themselves whenever it suited their tormentors? They hadn’t been dragged here kicking and
screaming, they had submitted themselves to it; they had to.
Sometimes they were allowed to drive here in one of their own cars; usually they chose
their cheapest one – a year old Vauxhall – in case these swine decided to damage it whilst
she and her husband were undergoing their enforced ‘training.’ This time however, was one
of those occasions when they were told, when summoned, to travel by rail – it was just to
make life difficult she assumed. After around half an hour on a dirty crowded train, they
walked out of the station at Maidstone in the so called Garden of England in Kent to be
met after half a mile of walking out of town on the designated road by the dirty and
unobtrusive white van driven by one of their tormentors.
They had to climb unceremoniously into back, Sarah hitching up her clothes to do so.
Then they would bump and sway off on their journey to depravity in the large secluded
mansion in one of the outlying villages of Maidstone.
In theory, it should have been so easy to say enough is enough and resist the cruel
and violent creepy perverts in whose power they were. But this was reality, not theory.
And if they did, if they dared to resist the Oriental demons who controlled them...?
Well, then they faced arrest, ruin and humiliation such was the hold their cruel and
violent blackmailers had over them. From their first original misdemeanour, the sadists
had woven a web which embraced herself and her husband and undoubtedly send them both to
prison. And then there would be the shame of everything they had done being revealed to
the World. Oh yes, the bastards had shown her the films they had taken and which would be
released anonymously on the internet if they didn’t fully play along.
At their destination, they had climbed out of the van feeling as if they had been
delivered here like two pieces of junk. It was a chilly day and Sarah was glad of her
thick coat over her jeans and jumper. And beside her Robert also zipped his jacket higher
as a protection against the wind as they were, as usual, kept waiting on the doorstep of
the large mansion to which they always had to report. The van had driven off round the
back somewhere; they were ostensibly alone.
She had raised her eyes in mock joviality to her husband, linking her hand through his
arm. As much as anything it helped to control her trembling and gave her a little moral
support as they waited for whatever ordeals today’s visit might bring.
She felt Robert’s arm comfortingly slide around her shoulders, pulling her close to
him. Yet if anything, that simple and so natural touch made her feel sad and bitter that
they were forced to offer such comfort to each other simply because they knew they would
suffer at the whim of the sadists who had summoned them. She turned her head slightly so
that her husband wouldn’t see the tear trickling down her face.
On previous visits, she would have seen her expensive car perched on the secluded
gravel drive, waiting for them when they were deemed to have completed that day’s
punishment. The expensive shining metal was a reminder of their status and making the
comparison with their helpless torment even harder to bear. But now the drive was empty,
they had been brought here and were now just two forlorn and lost souls outside a place of
evil. She was only thankful the driveway was long and being screened from the road by tall
trees, none could see their shame of simply standing around like unwanted guests.
It took her considerable self control to not just say ‘sod it then,’ sod being kept
waiting like naughty children and leave. But that would have been no easy matter in the
middle of the countryside and with no mobile phones. They were forbidden to bring their
phones with them. Even so, a walk to the nearest pub and then summoning a taxi would have
been possible. Yet she knew that if they dared step out of line that, it would only
antagonise their tormentors and result in more suffering that they might otherwise expect.
There was no way out, they were trapped and both of them knew it. But at least this was
their last day of pain and shame here – tomorrow they would get their lives back – she
knew they mustn’t jeopardise that.
Finally, the heavy door had opened with a creak at the hand of a fat, balding
Oriental man, probably in his late fifties or early sixties, who Sarah assumed was a
butler. This was a departure, they hadn’t seen him before. The man just stood there, his
flabby face inscrutable, just staring at them, the door resting against his paunch.
Normally one of their teenage tormentors answered the door. It threw her slightly to be
met by a stranger.
“We’re expected – by Miss Ming or Mr Sing,” Robert broke the silence first.
“When door is answered, inferiors always bow to their superiors,” the man’s voice
was quite high pitched, almost breathless. “Now you knock again, and don’t forget manners
- if I decide door is to be opened again.”
Sarah opened her mouthy to say something but the heavy door shut in her face. Her
fists were balls of anger and tension but she managed to straighten her fingers
sufficiently to clasp the knocker again.
A full minute of frustration passed. It became increasingly difficult to resist
the fatal urge to cut and run. It was not as if they wanted to enter that abode of evil.
That was the last thing they wanted to do. Yet if they didn’t go in, they knew the
consequences would be dire. It was the just about the lesser of two evils. Her teeth
chewed her full lips until finally the door creaked opened again.
Gritting her teeth, Sarah bowed to the creep, seeing Robert do the same. When she
straightened up she could have clawed the look of amusement from the fat bastard’s shining
face, but she didn’t; she daren’t.
“It good to see Western scum, even pretty Western scum,” he patted her bottom,
“know their place; follow me, and shut door behind you please,” he had finally pronounced,
before leading them on the familiar route. When Robert closed the heavy door behind them
the sound had almost an element of finality. It shut them away from the outside world –
preparing them for humiliation and pain.
It was quite chilly in the conservatory to which they had been led. From there
they could see the garden where they normally had to toil like slaves. Her breath hung in
the air as she obediently stood to attention beside Robert in the manner they knew was
demanded. The man waddled his bulk around them slowly, his eyes almost peeling away their
clothes. Yet it was almost more unsettling when he peered closely at her flinching face;
his unpleasant breath making her nostrils twitch.
“Yes... I wanted especially to see you, see what you were like; I hear much about
you. I see more of you later,” he stroked her hair, making her cheek quiver in dread at
the unsettling words as the ponderous creep departed. They stood in silence for five
minutes. Then Sarah found her breathing quickening in dread at the soft pad of footsteps
coming towards them along a corridor.
“It quite cold today eh?” the Chinese, 20 year old young man seemingly read her
mind as he touched Sarah’s cheek, making her shiver. The man was small but vicious.
“Yes Sir,” absolute cringing servility was the only safe response to the man, Sing,
or his even more vicious twin, Ming.
“And yet you soon warm up when your clothes are off. There’s a gentleman here who
for some reason is quite looking forward to seeing you undressed. You enjoy flashing
yourself at him won’t you, maybe f—king him?”
“Y-yes Sir.”
“And he no doubt enjoy making you so very sorry whenever you step out of line in
any way,” the man smiled politely
Sarah’s lip trembled in dread. Here things go again. But now someone else,
presumably the fat swine, was going to have the freedom to continue doing unspeakable
things to her. What now? She pondered, but she could guess. Beside her she could feel
Robert’s increased tension and anger at the casual pronouncement that she was to be given
to the old creep. She mentally urged him not to do anything that they would undoubtedly
both regret. This was their final session and then their ordeal in the hands of these
fiends would be up. They could then resume their lavish lifestyle with most of their
fortune intact. The alternative was their trial for theft, the shame, the loss of their
jobs, house and money and almost certainly several years inside.
“Come, come”, the young man beckoned them along a corridor to a different part of
the mansion.” Both of you go to separate rooms,” he nodded to two doors leading off on
each side. “Then your clothes off, both of you, every stitch,” he glared at Sarah and her
husband, following her into the particular room he had indicated.
With a start, Sarah saw the fat old Chinese creep waiting there. He now sat
relaxed more like a guest than a butler. She hesitated, glancing helplessly at the young
man.
“No be shy, you nothing special to hide - bullock naked – now,” he snapped,
unhooking his thin wooden cane from his belt and swishing it menacingly. The youth
watched with mocking eyes as Sarah undressed. “Fold pathetic rags neatly on chair,” he had
instructed. Biting her lip, she hung her thick jacket over the chair back and with one
last furtive look at the old creep, who was now smiling; she kicked off her shoes and
tugged off her jumper. Now looking down at the tiled floor she unzipped her jeans and
wriggled out of them. She shivered and not just from cold.
“Hmm, very pretty lady, very nice little clothes,” Sarah’s heart pounded with sick
dread as the old swine was suddenly standing next to her, his arm familiarly around her
bare waist as if they were old friends .
“Please......ahhhh,” she had began to cross her hand protectively over her
thrusting orbs covered by only her skimpy bra – as any woman would do instinctively when
faced by an old creep ogling her. But such niceties were not part of the young man’s
scheme of things and she yelped as his cane cut cruelly across her thigh. Immediately her
hands jerked down to the throbbing red line of pain across her toned white skin.
“You no f—king pull away if guest like Mr Chang want to see you,” snapped the
teenager, his crop swishing threateningly.
“I think you better be careful to do as young Mr Sing tell you,” the old man spoke
softly. “It must hurt if you no do as told. Meanwhile, I just admire pretty little
garments.”
Sarah cringed but remained frozen, not resisting as the flabby yellow fingers toyed
with the tiny pink strap of her bra, running under it and down to the side of her heaving
boobs. She hated anyone toying with her intimate clothing so.
“I just help you pretty lady,” she felt his hot breath on her neck as unbelievably
the bastard was actually fumbling with and finally unhooked her bra. Then his slug-like
fingers were tracing a line under the waistband of her knickers. It was obscene to be
touched like that so intimately by the creepy bastard. Then, thankfully he resumed his
seat.
She tried one last imploring look at the youngster but he merely raised a quizzical
eyebrow. Taking a deep breath she removed her socks and released her bra, her breasts
bouncing before her as she stooped to slide off her panties.
Sarah could see from the corner of her eyes, how the old man was enjoying the
enforced spectacle she had to give him. Oh how his small piggy eyes devoured her shining
curves. Her ash blonde hair, curling to brush her smooth shoulders framed her pretty face
which was bright red with shame, her full lips quivering with dread.
“Now stand hands outstretched and if I see them lower one inch what happens, bitch?”
“You, you punish me ... Sir,” Sarah replied miserably, knowing by now what verbal hoops
of humiliation the man expected. Obediently she stopped covering her shivering body and
held her arms out to the side so she was in the shape of a cross. Despite all she had
suffered over the last month it seemed to be so much worse to have to display herself
before a gross old stranger.
“Yes, you stupid cow, but how do I punish you?” the man continued, wanting a full
measure of shame.
“You –you spank me Sir.”
“Yes but where, be absolutely precise and detailed woman,” the man insisted. And Sarah
groaned knowing she was to be spared nothing before him and the fat beast who watched with
relish.
“You-you’ll put me over-over your lap and spank my bottom... my bare bottom,” she
emphasised when the young man glared at her.
| 
