INTRODUCTION
THE STORY SO FAR
Alison Balcombe, a pretty but shy and sheltered seventeen year-old, befriends a young
fisherman called Jamie whilst working on a farm in Cornwall during the summer. Jamie
introduces her to the enjoyment of being spanked, then takes her to "The Wench
Whackers Ball" where she is severely caned and stripped. Despite the pain, something
draws Ali back time and again to the W.W.B. meetings. Later, the secretary of the club
arranges six "labours" for her: meetings of other clubs, a weekend as a slave,
and participation in an S/M video. Her sixth labour is a weekend at "Animal
Farm", described in the book of the same name.
Time has passed and she is now nineteen years old. Ali might enjoy spanking and even
gentle strapping, but this experience is far beyond that. Treated like animals, forbidden
to speak and repeatedly abused, Ali and her four beautiful but unfortunate fellow
sufferers endure a nightmare at the hands of eight merciless masters. At the end of that
weekend, with each girl on the point of physical collapse, comes the worst shock of all:
they are not going to be released! A future of torment and slavery stretches out
unendingly before them. And that future starts here and now as we turn the page into a
new chapter in their lives.
CHAPTER 1
NEW LIFE
Ali's first week in captivity was very unsettling.
On the previous Sunday evening, after a weekend she would never forget - however much
she might wish to, she, Egg and Red Breast had received the bombshell that their captors
intended to keep and enslave them. Naturally, once they had got over the initial shock
they had protested, argued and then pleaded. It had been useless. Master Charles had
dealt with each demand, threat, attempted bargain and entreaty in turn. He had allowed
them to get it all out of their system, and then announced that any future outbursts would
earn whippings, and any attempted escape far worse. After their weekend of torment, there
was no way that any of them would risk that. Of course once he, the butler and the odd
job boy had departed, the girls spent much of the night discussing it amongst themselves.
Various plans of escape, most of them extremely far-fetched, were discussed. None seemed
to have sufficient chance of success to be worth risking the dreadful punishment that had
been threatened if the escapee was caught.
Ali eventually crawled back into her hutch to sleep. She was exhausted, and her body
hurt terribly from the weekend's activities. Her sleep was not an easy one.
In the morning Master Charles greeted them again after the maid had brought them
breakfast. Ali had expected more of the cold porridge in dogs' bowls that they had
during the weekend, but it was a delicious English breakfast. A table had been set up
which their chains would just about allow them to reach, and they had as much to eat as
they wanted. They even had cutlery, for the first time since Friday! Clearly, although
slaves, they were no longer bitches. Red Breast tried to sound out the maid, but the young
woman anticipated her and told her not to bother looking for help from either her or the
butler. The odd job boy was no longer acting out the part of a servant; he was now to be
considered a master, as Master Charles' son. Ali said nothing. She resented the
maid, because she hated a clothed, untouched female witnessing the degradations that she
had been forced to put herself through last weekend and which would now seemingly go on
forever.
As well as the civilised meal, another pleasant surprise was the appearance of some
shower cubicles at the other end of the village of kennels. They had been there all
along, but had been hidden behind wooden boards to keep the kennels with a Spartan look
and feel during the weekend. They were unlocked from their chains, their collars were
removed and replaced with new ones which did not have the chain attached at the front,
although a ring existed to which one could quickly be attached. Once again a surge of
anger went through Ali as the maid attached it. She didn't mind the masters
humiliating her, but this woman was a different matter. Still, the shower soon took her
mind off that. Instead of the freezing cold hosings down of the past two days, they had
as much hot water as they wanted, and each of them luxuriated for quite a while. The
showers revived them, although they also reminded them of the weals that they still
carried. The cream rubbed into their bodies last night had helped, but they were still in
considerable pain.
Master Charles appeared a little later. He first demolished all the escape ideas they
had discussed last night, one by one. The girls were taken aback; they had forgotten that
the basement had video cameras and hidden microphones. However, in some ways it was for
the best: better to find their escape plans unworkable now than when they actually tried
them out. The best, or more accurately least feeble, plan they had was for one of them to
slash their wrists, hoping that their abductors would have to take them to hospital rather
than see them die. It wouldn't work: the butler had considerable first aid training,
and Master Phillip, who lived nearby, was a doctor by profession. Besides, it was a very
big gamble! Ali had never seriously thought that any of the plans would work. Now she
was convinced: as things currently stood, there was no escape from this place.
Henceforth, Master Charles said, any talk of escape, even between themselves, would be
punishable. Further, they were to use only the 'bitch names' that they had been
christened with on Friday night. They actually hadn't got around to asking each
other's real names last night, and now it wouldn't be allowed. They were, until
such time as the masters chose to change it, Apples, Egg and Red Breast.
It was explained they would be slaves until their thirtieth birthdays. For Apples and
Red Breast, both nineteen, this was a sentence of ten and a half years, closer to ten for
Red Breast who was a few months older. For Egg, it was nearly fourteen. Men would come
to the estate to make use of them, but also they would from time to time be sold on six
month or one year leaseholds. Sometimes this would be to masters in foreign countries
where white slavery was only thinly disguised and where, on remote plantations or secluded
estates, escape would still be impossible. When the lease was up, their ownership would
revert to Master Charles' organisation. When they turned thirty, however, they would
be freed, and a large proportion of the income from their slave sales and other
"employment" would have been invested for them and would provide them with a
considerable inheritance on which to live. There was apparently a very isolated
settlement in South America to which they could be sent if they were felt to be a
potential security hazard, but if not (and there were plenty of incentives to keep their
mouths shut, since to open them would mean losing their money and possibly even being
assassinated) they could move freely. They would still be comparatively young, attractive
and wealthy; they could marry well and settle down in high society, or just have a ball.
Whilst they digested this, Master Charles and the two other men, Master Ralph (as he was
now to be known) and the butler gave them another application of the healing cream in
their kennels. Once again the butler dealt with Ali; he seemed to have taken a bit of a
shine to her, and chatted pleasantly. Trying to ignore where his hands were, she found
that she responded to his kindness rather than resenting him for what he had done to her,
both himself (she vividly recalled him caning and raping her on Saturday night) and in
conjunction with the others. She began to ask some of the questions that piqued her
curiosity. Apparently, his father had been Master Charles' father's servant,
and the organisation had been running then. Ali was astonished that it had been going for
so long, but he said he wasn't sure, but thought it went back even further. Master
Charles' father, also called Charles, now lived in retirement on a Texas ranch,
regularly supplied with slaves by the organisation, of course. Ralph, now eighteen, was
Master Charles' son, and had been involved with the business for a year now, in
between studying business at college. In addition to becoming involved with and
eventually inheriting the organisation, he would have to manage the family fortune, and
the investments for the slaves' "retirement fund". During the last
weekend, it had amused him to act as odd job boy, but he was learning how the weekends
operated so that he could run them himself later on.
There were similar organisations in many countries, both European and world-wide. They
had links, carefully constructed so that if one organisation was caught by the police or
authorities, it was not possible to trace or compromise the others through it. In some
third world countries, the authorities themselves were involved.
Ali asked if slaves could really return to freedom at age thirty, and he assured her
that it was so. In fact, he himself had married an ex-slave almost immediately upon her
release. They had lived happily for over a decade on the estate; she could have afforded
much better, but they were very much in love and she preferred to stay with him, working
as the maid. Sadly she had died of cancer three years earlier, and the current maid had
replaced her. This maid had no connections or leanings towards any of the things which
went on at the estate, but was discretion itself.
Forest and Floppy were just as much slaves as the other three, but were not currently
housed at the manor: the name given to this place. Forest, who was twenty, had been
enslaved eighteen months earlier, after a similar weekend meeting to the recent one.
These weekends often featured a competition such as the one in which Ali had been made to
participate, and in that one Forest had come third. Very competitive and tough by nature,
she had quickly accepted her slavery and trained very hard for the next competitive
weekend, which she had won. However, she had missed her sports clubs and after a year, in
which she had won two more weekend events, Master Charles had agreed to allow her to
"live out" for some of the time with a master who agreed to her going into the
outside world in the evenings, having ensured her silence and co-operation by methods
which the butler would not mention. Consequently she was a slave by day and a sports
fanatic by night, although if required for slave duties in an evening then of course her
slavery took priority.
Floppy, who was twenty-two, had been a slave for a year. She had done a weekend
voluntarily in order to get a large sum of money for a baby relative in Canada to have a
life-saving operation. Unlike most of the other girls who had shown some interest in
corporal punishment, bondage, humiliation or whatever had led them to sign on for a
weekend, Floppy had never enjoyed anything along any of those lines, and had simply done
it for the child. At the end of the weekend she had been abducted just like the three
newcomers. At the moment she was contracted to an English master on a three-month
contract, but he had released her for last weekend. Forest had missed the previous
competition weekend due to another slave contract, and in her absence Floppy had won, so
this weekend had seen Forest regain her crown of thorns.
The butler wouldn't answer any questions from Ali about who else that she had met
during her experiences was a member of the organisation. Ali was certain that Steve
Langley, who had arranged for her to come for the weekend, (see "Animal Farm")
was involved, or at least knew what was happening. Her first thought when she had found
out they were not to be released was that Steve would realise what had happened and rescue
her, but then it had dawned on her that he had set the whole thing up, and she cursed him.
She also wondered about Mr. Pugh, whom she had spent an earlier weekend with as a slave.
The butler would only say
"if you see them here, then they are involved in some way. Only a small number are
active in the running of it, but a lot are aware of what goes on."
Weekends like the one they had just had were quite frequent, although the themes varied.
They were quite lucrative, with this one having generated over œ5000, including projected
video sales. Ali was shocked and humiliated to hear that edited highlights of her being
raped and tortured would be sold, and began to protest. The butler shushed her very
quickly, and pointed out that if Master Charles heard her protesting she would be whipped.
At that she quietened, but she remained unhappy. The only slight consolation was that the
videos were mainly sold abroad in case someone recognised her and realised that she was
still alive; in this country they would only be available to close members of the
organisation.
During the day, little things had been done to make life more amenable. As well as the
shower, mattresses replaced the straw in the kennels. The girls were allowed to choose
paperbacks to read from a collection upstairs, and were allowed to select others from
catalogues of current best-sellers, which would then be obtained for them. They were also
allowed to watch or video television programmes, plus rented videos. They were also
encouraged to order some educational or mind-broadening things as well. Naturally, each
of them scanned the news programmes for reports of any hue and cry about three missing
teenagers, but there was nothing. It seemed that the fake accident in which Ali had
"died" had worked.
They had sufficient time to exchange stories of how they had come to be on that fateful
weekend. Ali went first, describing that first spanking on Jamie's boat so long ago,
the Wench Whackers' Ball, and her six 'labours'. It was something of a
relief to talk about it and it helped to sort out her confused feelings. She realised now
that she had enjoyed gentle spankings and being dominated, but hadn't been able to
prevent herself getting involved in much more painful beatings. Although Mr. Pugh had
beaten her hard at times, he had dominated her so skilfully that she had a good time and
had wanted to go to him again. It was this that had really kept her going through the
other labours. However, although the party and the video had been bad, they had been
nowhere near as bad as the weekend she had just undergone; she hadn't been expecting
anything that severe.
Red Breast had also been unprepared. She had started out as a model who had been
invited along to a spanking club session. She had gone out of curiosity, and found that
the girls were being paid quite well for taking some fairly light spankings. Something of
a spendthrift, she started attending these parties in a paid capacity, progressing to
slightly heavier but even more lucrative parties where she had gained her basic
experience. Attendance at the Animal Farm weekend had been a condition of getting any
more work of this nature, and since she by then depended on the supplement to her
model's earnings, she had reluctantly agreed.
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