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TRAINED AS A LADIES’ PET WHORE
      
21 – EMMA IN HER CAGE 
      
      The early morning sunlight was flowing through the barred skylights into bare attic
of the new London house of Ursula de Vere, the well-known artist. It was here, upstairs
above her studio, that she kept her menagerie of girls – nominally her models.  
      It was the day after Emma’s terrifying and painful initiation into again being one
of Ursula’s caged girls. Naked under her sleeveless short blue velvet cape, except for her
collar and her wrist and ankle manacles, Emma was kneeling up, gripping the bars of her
cage. She could feel the weight of the heavy chain that linked a ring at the back of her
terrifying collar to a ring on the rear wall of her cage.
      The rubber-floored cages were raised so that the overseer, Sabhu, or any lady
visitors or sponsors, could more easily see and inspect the caged women. The cages also
had a low roof so that the women had to crawl around them like caged animals. They were
allowed no books or radios and their only toys were the baby dolls that that Doctor said
would bring on their dormant maternal instincts,
      Although Emma did not yet know it, her blue coloured cape denoted that she was
available for any of the clients whilst the girls in red capes had been reserved by a
particular client for their own private use – or had been sent to Ursula’s by her Mistress
for safe-keeping whilst she went away for a week or two.  
      Emma had soon learnt that silence and decorum was enforced in the menagerie, even
in Sabhu’s absence in his comfortable room next door, by an internal television camera and
by a microphone hanging down in front of the cages. She had also learnt that any girl who
dared even to whisper is punished by a nasty shock in the neck from her collar, something
that could be switched from a little control box attached to Sabhu’s belt – even when he
was away in his room next door. 
      Although she could not see them because of the bare brick walls that separated the
cages, six other women were similarly kneeling up and anxiously peering through the bars
of their cages too in the upstairs menagerie of Ursula’s new house. Two others, she knew,
were still down in Ursula’s bedroom having spent the night giving her pleasure. 
      On front of each cage hung a graph of its occupant’s daily temperatures, forming a
record of her monthly cycle - something that was very important in a breeding menagerie. 

      There was a complete silence except for the occasional rattle of a chain. 
      Emma remembered how she had been abducted from her home and had awoken to find
herself, caged and manacled, now just another of the girls in Ursula's luxury lesbian
brothel. She couldn’t sure how long ago that was, for with no access to a calendar, or to
a newspaper or even the television she had lost track of the passing days, and indeed each
one had seemed rather like another - just as Ursula and Sabhu intended. 
      She would never forget that awful first day. Not only had she been thrashed by
Sabhu in front of the Baroness as a punishment, but she had also undergone Doctor Anna’s
humiliating First Treatment as she had heard it described. She still did not know just
what had been done to her, though her lovely sensitive and protruding inner lips seemed to
have disappeared. She had terrified lest her lovely beauty bud had been removed – it was
something that Ursula had often threatened to have done to her to stop her chasing after
men. However she had been reassured to feel it throbbing under the grille beneath her
sewn-up outer lips – even if she could not now touch it. Oh, the frustration! 
      Yes, it was awful, having to give pleasure to Ursula’s clients and not to be able
to get any herself – but of course that was all part of why they paid Ursula so much.
      Oh, how many times, locked up in her cage, had she in vain tried to get even a
little finger between the laces of her now sewn up beauty lips? Oh, how she hated the
little padlock hanging down between her legs that kept the laces taut. They were only
eased once a day when Sabhu would unlock the padlock and give her a quick douche – and,
oh, the sheer humiliation of such an intimate thing being done to her by a big grinning
Negro.
       
      Moreover, not only was she now being kept frustrated but also terrorised by two
other things.
      The first was Sabhu's whip. If it wasn't for him, she had to admit, life would not
be too bad. But Sabhu and his whip played an essential part of Ursula's new enterprise
just as overseers and their whips had played an essential part of life on the slave
plantations of his native Haiti. The fact that in those days the slaves were black and the
overseers white, made him all the keener to exert his revenge on the white women now under
his control.  
      It was Sabhu and his whip that kept Emma and the other girls on their toes and
desperate to please the clients. Indeed it was largely Sabhu and his whip that made
Ursula's enterprise such a profitable one. He did not apply it very hard, Emma had learnt,
and he left no permanent marks. But it still hurt like mad! She found herself being
increasingly obsessed by the fear of another caning. 
      But equally frightening was the thought that if what had been done to her was
called the First Treatment, then just what was the mysterious Second Treatment, that she
had heard clients asking Ursula excitedly about sponsoring? Surely it could not be some
form of Forced Breeding? Sponsoring a girl for Forced Breeding against her will? How
awful!
      Could the Baroness seek further revenge by having her mated? But where - and with
whom? Except for Sabhu, there was sign of anything male in Ursula’s house. Oh what a fool
she had been to annoy Ursula and the Baroness by being found in bed with the latter’s
Italian toy-boy – instead of just lying low in the country.  It was true she had defied
her Mistress, and had been unfaithful to her - and with a young man at that. But she had
been punished for her behaviour - indeed she still trembled at the memory of that awful
whipping from Sabhu in front of the Baroness. She knew she had deserved that. But not this
awful fate as well.
      Emma felt like a former favourite slave, who had runaway and then been recaptured
and, as a punishment, had now been put to work in her Mistress’s lesbian brothel under the
whip of a cruel overseer – and with the threat of being put into the breeding pens
constantly hanging over her, like the sword of Damocles
      But then, as she kept telling herself anyway, how could she, a married woman be
used for Forced Breeding? John was often away for several months at a time but not for
nine! She would have to go home when he returned and how could she hide her state from
him? 
      But every day she could see the curved bellies of three of the other caged girls:
Bluebell in Cage 1, Daisy in Cage 3, next to hers and further along the line, the pretty
girl in Cage 7. And she could see how, with their beauty lips carefully laced up and
locked there was nothing they could to get rid of or harm their progeny. They were being
made to carry their progeny whether they liked it or not. And, of course, her lips had
already been similarly laced up – as if in readiness for the mysterious Second Treatment
she had overheard heard Ursula talking to the Baroness about. How scary it all was.
      She also kept thinking about the strange pills that Sabhu made her and Cowslip, the
slightly older married woman in Cage 5, take the night before. Both had been caught out
cheating, Cowslip on her husband and Emma on Ursula and the Baroness. Were she and Cowslip
both being prepared for maternity as a form of revenge? How terrifying!