Return To Mainland 3. Excerpts

 

Excerpt 1

 

Jake worked the Dempster couple hard.

Nico was cutting the lawn in the rear garden of Jake's house. He measured every single blade of grass, trimmed it to exactly 1.5 cms with a pair of nail scissors, and then ensured each blade was combed pointing due south.

It was the middle of the day and the sun was at its highest. Sweat poured into Nico's eyes and from his naked body. The work was extremely arduous, blazing hot and unimaginably repetitive. Whatever workplace or household Jake placed him with next, Nico would find it to be a comparative relief.

Nico's thick cock dangled uselessly between his legs. It was semi-erect and rather impressive, hinting at the full length and girth to come. Jake wasn't jealous but he was pissed off that somebody born into the old elite had also been endowed with physical good fortune.

He wandered across his lawn with a chilled beer and urinated against a bush. Then he reached down with a tape measure and checked some random blades of grass that Nico had already tended. Each one was precisely 1.5 cms in length.

Neither man spoke. Nico was nervous that his boss would find a mistake. Jake didn't bother to reassure his gardening skivvy. He simply swigged his beer, belched, and walked back into the house.

Abigail was still in the small utility room behind the kitchen. She was surrounded by mounds of laundry. Both washing machines were chuntering away. Sheets and shirts and underwear were on lines outside, drying in the sunshine. She was perspiring at the ironing board carefully pressing a white blouse.

Abigail had posted leaflets through the letter boxes of Jake's neighbours inviting them to have their laundry done for free for a while; not only without charge but to an immaculate standard. Local housewives were mightily relieved to be able to hand over all their washing so they could enjoy some time off in the warm weather.

Jake wandered over to the basket to inspect the quality of her work. He unfolded a set of lacy underwear somebody had handed in. The black lace was clean and as crisply ironed as possible given the awkward shapes.

"Not good enough." Jake snapped, tipping the entire basket load onto the floor. "Do it all again."

Abigail curtseyed. She was wearing her chambermaid's costume and standing in stilettos. The 5-inch high heels were padlocked around her ankles, accentuating her calf muscles.

Jake had fucked her first thing that morning, before the sun rose and the air got too humid. She was terrified of him, which ensured she put her back into it, mostly her riding him astride his waist, while he just lay back and relaxed. He had put his hands behind his head and smiled up at her, occasionally glancing at Nico.

Jake allowed Nico to stand and jerk himself while he watched them. Jake knew that many Owners preferred chastity devices for their male, and even female, property. But in his opinion denial was something that skivvies had to learn to impose on themselves, without the aid of cold steel. Nico had stood on one leg and stroked his oversized cock rhythmically for 20 minutes until Jake blew his wad inside Abigail. Then Nico cooled his own passion with ice cubes and began his work on the garden lawn.

That afternoon, Jake was playing Call of Duty on his PC when his phone buzzed. It was his mate Rolf at the State Recruitment Agency.

"Hey man, what's cookin'?"

Rolf explained that the country's top 'gladiatorial school' was looking for more recruits. But not just anybody. They needed to be fit, strong, in their 20s and, ideally, very well-endowed.

Jake smiled inwardly and peered through the open window. Nico was finally nearing the end of the lawn, still trimming each blade of grass. His sunburnt skin shimmered as he crawled along.

"What's that you said, mate?"

"Fit, strong, under-30 and preferably with a big dick."

Jake chuckled. "I've got one for you."

 

Excerpt 2

 

In the similarly soundproofed cell on the other side of the wall to which his wife faced, Trevor Gibson was howling. His naked backside had been corrugated and cut by numerous applications of a flexible length of Malacca cane. He began to shake has he heard the click of high heels alongside him.

"P...please, no more. I d...don't know....please"

His tormentor came into view, black, leather, high-heeled boots. A black a-line skirt, a white shirt, and a black tie. She slipped her skirt a little higher up her thighs revealing more of her stockings and squatted slightly so that their heads were fairly close. That would normally have been quite an erotic thing to do, but not here in a small, airless cell that smelled strongly of his own piss. Not when he was strapped over a caning bench and his arse felt as if he'd sat on a griddle.

The girl rubbed a finger up his cheek, catching a few tears as she did so.

"So tell me more about your wife, Trevor?"

He was panting now, and his heart was beating wildly. What did the little cow want? He'd told her all he knew about Cait. About her job and her family and her friends. He'd even disclosed her sexual predilections and everything he could recall regarding their entire, unexciting, vanilla sex life. She'd beaten him at first when he wouldn't tell her what she wanted to hear. But then as his backside was being thrashed with greater and greater vigour, he'd capitulated and told her everything she wanted to know

"What are her political affiliations for example, Trevor? My informants tell me she's thoroughly opposed to the New Government, is that the case?"

When he didn't answer immediately she adjusted her position and slapped his cheek hard.

"I asked you a question, Trevor."

"I...I don't know. We've never really discussed politics much, I..."

She held a finger to his lips and then, when he was silent, slipped the 3 feet of springy Malacca in between his teeth so he held the cane like a dog with a bone.

"I have an unfortunate feeling that you're not taking me seriously, Trevor. Look at me and take note."

He tried explaining that he was taking her very seriously indeed, but all that came out was an unintelligible jumble of words. Instead, he watched fearfully as she slowly and calmly unbuttoned the cuff of her starched white shirt and carefully folded up the sleeve until it was above her elbow.

He couldn't help but wonder how a young girl with such slim arms could generate the dreadful throbbing pain in his wealed buttocks. He shook his head a little and tried to speak, tried to beg in fact. She undid the other cuff without taking her cold, dark eyes from his tearful blue ones.

"I'd advise you, very strongly, not to drop my cane on the floor, Trevor. The consequences would be extremely serious for you."