They were given little time to recover from their second screwing.

With the men's sperm still oozing from their sore pussy clefts and running down the insides of their thighs, they were led out of the mattress tent.

Beside it was another niche in the rock over which a rough wooden frame had been erected. It supported a plastic carboy of water from a spigot in the base of which a hose hung down fitted with an adjustable nozzle tip. Underneath was a slab of block board with a hole the middle, resting over a second large tin bucket part filled with water, forming a primitive squat toilet.

Jimmy pointed to. 'That's your exclusive toilet while you're here,' he said mockingly. 'Every time you need to go, that's what you'll use.'

Their faces fell as they realised there was no provision for modesty of any kind. But it got worse.

'And you have to ask our permission first,' Bill told them. 'Because one of us will have to watch you and then use the hose to wash you clean afterwards...'

'Because you won't be able to use your hands much on account of them being cuffed most of the time,' George explained.

Carlotta whimpered while Katrina scowled, but they had learned enough by now not to waste their energy protesting. Their captors were enjoying piling indignities upon them.

The sight of these primitive facilities made Abby realize that her churned-up insides were badly in need of relief. How many hours was it since she had used a toilet? She had wet herself in her cage but the pummelling her rectum and taken from the dildo was now having inevitable consequences. The thought of doing it in front of these men was appalling and yet if there was a chance of being washed clean of their filthy sperm, perhaps it was worth it. In any case they had no choice. They were only dirt...

Taking deep breath, she said, 'Please, Sir, I need to relieve myself...'

And so Abby squatted down awkwardly over the hole in the board while trying to balance with her cuffed hands, horribly aware of how wide she was spreading her legs and screwed up her eyes and emptied her wastes out into it. All the time she felt the contemptuous mocking gaze of her grotesquely masked captors on her pussy as it spurted out a little water and dribble of semen and her sore anus as it opened to disgorge her excreta. When she was done Ronnie use the hose to flush her groin clean, making her gasp as cold water bubbled up into her cleft. But at least she was fresher now.

One by one, the others surrendered to their own needs and also begged to use the squat toilet. The men chuckled as this array of rich and attractive women once more degraded themselves before them.

When they were all done, they were led on along to the next tent. This held a collection of sinister though as yet unidentifiable devices of wood and metal, together with bundles of chains, straps, ropes and cuffs. There was also inexplicably what looked like a selection of building or gardening equipment. A couple of wheelbarrows, wooden sledges, picks and sledgehammers and a large box containing heavy work boots, socks and gardening gloves, protective goggles and even yellow hardhats. This degree of concern for their well-being seemed surprising, but of course there was a catch.

'Now you're going to find out what real work feels like,' Jimmy told them. 'You're going to be using those picks and hammers to break rocks like they do in a chain gang. You're going to sweat and heave and strain. But it's up to you how you do it.' He held up boots and gloves. 'Do you want to do it totally bare-arsed, like all those millions of labourers in Africa and India...' He pointed to another array of posters hung on the tent poles showing maimed and disfigured men and women. 'Or do you want to have something on to protect your pretty hands and feet and heads?'

The thought of breaking rocks like criminals filled them with dismay but they might as well wear the right kit to do it.

They all said together, 'Please Sir, we'd like to wear protection.'

Jimmy grinned. 'Well you don't get anything for nothing here, so that's going to cost you. You're going to have to bend over and stick out your pretty arses out and beg for four strokes of the cane, one each for a pair of gloves, boots, goggles and a hard hat. Well?'

They looked at each other in resignation, knowing they had no real choice. The eyes of disfigured workers stared accusingly out at them, silently carrying a terrible warning. They all turned and bent over and stuck out their bottoms and said, 'Please cane us, Sirs...'

They yelped as the men happily swiped their canes across their bare bottoms, bringing tears once more to the eyes.

'Margaret says this is how all labourers should be protected,' George said as he swung his cane at Katrina's behind, making her fleshy cheeks shiver 'Even you. You won't forget that will you?'

'No, Sir!' they sobbed.

When they had paid their dues with their smarting bottoms, their wrist cuffs were un-padlocked. Under the watchful eyes of their captors, holding their cattle prods at the ready, they found boots and gloves that fitted them.

'I wouldn't care if your hands and feet go raw,' Ronnie admitted as they dressed. 'You should know what honest calluses feel like. But that's how we're doing this. Of course, that won't stop us putting a few more welts on those bums and tits of yours to make up for it if you slack.'

When they were kitted out with hats, work gloves, goggles and boots they were made to stand in a line so the men could inspect them. The contrast between their work gear and their nudity was striking and slightly surreal, and only acted to emphasise their vulnerability.

'Oh yeah, we mustn't forget the extras,' Jimmy said. He took up another box that clinked as he moved it and took out a chunky piece of shiny metal shaped like a fat "S" with a vertical bar through it. For a moment it did not register and then Abby realized it was meant to be a dollar symbol. It was about ten centimetres high and had a clip welded to its back. The girls stared at it in bewilderment.

'Don't move!' Jimmy said. He handed more of the curious ornaments to the other men and they went along the line of girls clipping them to their bodies. The clips pinched onto their nipples or the pouting inner lips of their labia. They were heavy and hard and tugged on their tender flesh. When the men had finished adorning them the dollar symbols hung on them like absurd and very intimate pieces of jewellery. A fresh degree of bizarre contrast had been established between their naked bodies, their work kit and these strange new additions.

'All the time you're working in the chain gang you'll have those clipped to you,' Jimmy explained. 'If you think that they're uncomfortable now, you wait until you're moving about and working hard and they're pulling on your tits and pussy lips. Soon you'll learn to hate the sight of them and everything a dollar stands for. That was Margaret's idea anyway...'

Even as they contemplated this further humiliation, their chains were adjusted once more. Longer hobbles were fitted between their ankle cuffs and these were in turn joined together between them, the left ankle of one girl being connected to the right of the next, so they formed the true chain. Longer chains were also fitted between their wrist cuffs, so they could hold their arms in front of them and use their picks and hammers.

They were each given a pickaxe or hammer and then they were marched out in a shuffling jingling file out into the ancient quarry and along to its upper end where a grey wall of rock rose up high before them. An arc of five folding camp chairs had been set out facing a jumble of huge boulders at the base of the small cliff. The women were arranged between the chairs and the cliff facing the boulders. Beside them water trickled down the mossy rocks and formed a small dark pool before overflowing into the stream that ran off along the tiny valley.

'When you've broken enough of these into small chunks, you can use the barrows to shift them,' Bill said, as he and the others took their seats and prepared to watch them in comfort. There were six-packs of lager set down by the seats and the men began popping the cans open. Beside them were also plastic bottles of spring water.

Ronnie held a one of those up so they could see it. 'Anytime you want to drink you've got to pay for it,' he told them. 'Let's say a spank per swallow. Of course, you'll have to beg first, and you'll have to thank us for it afterwards, understood?'

They understood all too well. They were not going to be allowed to forget who they were and the contempt that the men held them in for a moment.

George held up his cattle prod threateningly. 'Go on, get started!'

Taking deep breaths they raised their picks and hammers and began their new life as a chain gang.