Extract

Chapter 1 - Slumber

 

As I climbed into bed, I wondered if the dreams of the night before would continue. It had left me up in the air, then again, I felt glad that I could remember, the dream. It was exciting, and thrilling, yet quite painful, for the avatar that was, me, during the dream.

Eager to find out what had happened, I read the magazine story again, and it also left things up in the air, to ensure you bought next week's, copy.

Being taken, kidnapped, and made to bow down to the superior sex, females, was my dream adventure, and that was the dream I had, last night. It left me dreading the pain to come from the ogre, who held me in her tight grip, making me obey her rules. But more so making me bow down to her, kiss her feet, as any loyal subject, would do. Why was I being so awkward then, if that was what I, wanted? Why did I do the things I had done, knowing it would only lead to the cane, for failing?

I lay down, and put my head on the pillow, and closed my eyes, hoping that the dream would, return.

"You are a fucking idiot," burst into my mind as the clouds of sleep descended.

I wondered why I was calling myself an idiot, then the clouds of sleep lifted, and I saw her.

It had occurred this afternoon when I was blinded by the sun, and moved off, from the side road I was in. A woman piped at me, and shook her fist at me, we missed, 'a miss is as good as a mile,' isn't it?

Well, this time we hadn't missed, and I had run into her. I looked at the damage, and my car was undamaged, it was more of a touch, and very slight. Even her car was undamaged, but she was out for someone to hit, I think, the way she ran around the car to inspect the damage, shouting.

"Look love, I was blinded by the sun, and didn't see you coming, there is no damage so what about we swap insurances, and get on with our lives. I will accept the blame," I said, to placate her.

"Oh, so you accept the blame, do you? What do you think girls?" She asked the group of females that had emerged from her car, which I felt odd, seeing as the woman was alone this afternoon, and I hadn't seen anyone get out, of the car.

"I-I am in shock, I mean, I-I was sat next to the door it hit, it could have killed me," one of the women said.

"I am sorry for the upset, but there is no damage, so I suggest we swap insurances, and get on with our lives," I said, still trying to calm, things.

"Really, you do, do you? I don't, I want an explanation as to why you dashed out at speed into my car, potentially injuring, my passengers? Well what explanation, do you have?" She asked me.

"Madam, I have been fair and honest, the damage is so small, if at all, my speed was very, very slow. I did not dash out at speed, as you said. I am happy to call the police, if you so wish, the one thing I do not want is road rage, now swap insurances, or I, will call the police," I said beginning to lose my temper, with her.

"Why call the police, when one is already here, well, what do you, think?" she asked one of the women from her car.

"First of all, I am a probationary officer," she said, trying to get out of it.

"Are you, or are you not a qualified officer, even if inexperienced?" The woman asked her, bullying her, to some degree.

"Yes, I am, and it is not a serious crime, driving without due care and attention, a fine perhaps. The court will take into account how low the sun is, and that there is no, damage, as such, which means he eased out, slowly. I am on your side, but when it comes to the law; I have to be, honest," she said.

"Can you see that side road over there, or is the sun still blinding you?" She asked me.

"Yes, I can see it," I replied.

"Well, follow me down there, and keep your fucking distance, twat. My insurance papers are in my house, down there. Do you understand, me?" She asked me, aggressively.

"I understand, you want me to follow you down that road to your home, to get the insurance papers, so that we can swap details," I said.

"Yes, you get in his car, I don't want him driving off, make sure he follows me," she told one of the women.

"I don't like her being alone in the car with a male, he might attack her, so I will go with him, as well, at least that way there are two of us," another of them said.

"Good idea, he could be a rapist, or murderer, for all we know," the woman said.

"And how do I know you will not attack me, bitch? I made a slight error, and admitted liability, and you have done nothing, but call me names, see how you like it, bitch. I do as we should do, and carry my papers, with me," I said, allowing my anger at her attitude, to surface.

"Right, you lead, and I will follow, with just the one, in your car, but slow, or stop, and we will be out, and on you, in a second, even before you have ripped her panties off, you will be hurting, and face down in the mud, arsehole," she said angrily.

I led off, and followed the road, on and on it went, with her behind me. The road was a dirt track, and rutted, we travelled roughly a mile down it, to a farm house. I pulled into the yard, and stopped, she stopped right behind me, hemming me in, and got out, before she had stopped one of the one's in the back, was out.

She folded her arms, and was stood by my door, my passenger got out, and stepped back as the others now joined her. The situation was not good, I felt threatened. The woman led the way into the house with two of them in front of me, and two behind me, making sure I didn't make a dash, for it.

We entered by the kitchen, and it was an old-fashioned farm kitchen, with a wooden table for eight in the centre, an Aga was in the open fire place.

It even had the rack for drying clothes hanging from the ceiling in front of the Aga, and a dresser on the wall facing the kitchen table; I liked the look of the room, but said nothing, I didn't want to compliment the bitch, in any way.

She opened a drawer, and rifled through it, then sighed, "Now where did I put the insurance papers?" she asked, and turned around holding a length of rope.

"We are going to have to hunt for them, and I do not trust you, twenty years, I have been driving, and never needed them, now because of you, I do. Put your hands behind the chair while we tie them, to make sure you will not run, and leave me with the bill for the damage," she told me.

"I beg your pardon, you-you want to tie me to the chair, fuck you, bitch, I am calling the police," I said, and went to pull my mobile out of my pocket.

"We prepared for this, girls, the time has come," she said, and hands grabbed me.

I had been sat between two of the women, and they grabbed an arm each, and pulled it behind my back, as the woman came over holding the rope. As I struggled, I noted that one of the other women was moaning and wriggling, the moans were sexually oriented, and as I looked, she had her hand on her clit, and was rubbing it, hard.

"Help, help," I began to shout, as I tried to struggle, but they were strong, and had just one arm each, to hold.

"Shout all you like, as you saw we are over half a mile from the road, and my nearest neighbour. Are you not ready yet, to stop this wailing?" she asked, not the one I had noticed, but one of the others, who I now looked at, and she was also writhing in sexual stimulation, one hand on her clit, rubbing it.

Her hand went up her dress, and she yanked her panties down and approached me with them, balled up, in her hand.

"Y-you are not going to use," I said, as I felt a sharp pain in my balls, "Argh," was all that came out, as she stuffed her panties in, and put her hand over the top.

This was until the other woman joined her, and the sharp pain was followed by her panties going in, as well, and then the tape, over the top.

My hands were now tied, and the woman was tying them to the stretcher bar on the legs, as another of the women brought more rope.

She began to tie me to the chair, by my ankles, she tied one to each leg of the chair, and then up, around my thighs, tying them to the seat. She then carried on up, and around my lower waist, and on up to my chest where she tied the ends off, behind the chair. I was now gagged, and fixed to the chair.

"Peace at last, now, listen to me. We are now going to have a mug of tea, while we recover from the accident, and our efforts. You just sit there like a good little boy, and be, quiet. When we return, we are going to ask you some questions. I will be careful to ensure you can answer them; they will be yes, a nod of the head, or no, and a shake of the head, let's try it, do you understand me?" She asked me, I nodded, reluctantly, "Good. Mistress Two, will you put the vehicle in the barn, this may take some time, oh, and bring the documents back, we will require?" The woman asked.

They poured the coffees, and put the mugs on a tray then carried them out of the room, and they left me alone. I heard my car start, and be driven, the sound changed as she entered the barn, and then she came back, carrying my, documents.

"Humph, humph," I said, nodding my head at her, but she ignored me, and put the documents on the table, then walked out of the kitchen her head held high, aloof.

It felt a long time before they all entered the kitchen again. they took the chairs from my side of the table, and put them in a line facing me, and sat down with the woman in the centre of the five of them, facing me.

"We have now calmed down; our emotions are on a more even keel. So, we can approach this, sensibly.

We will begin with your name, Simon Porter, nice, and the address, one, Variety flats, Chestnut Avenue. Interesting, Variety Flats, that is an unusual name, there must be a reason for a name like that. Is it on an old sight of a theatre?" She asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders; I had no idea; it wasn't my address.

"No matter, we have the person we want, ladies. I have here a letter from a Simon Potter, requesting that we take, and educate his close friend, in manners. It is at the request of his girlfriend, and the letter is counter signed by, the girl friend. We contacted her to make sure it was with Simon's consent, and she told us that it was. She told us that he was a closeted transvestite, wearing her panties, etcetera. Now that is nasty, you should at least ask her, first.

The accident, well to be honest, it looks bad if we attack someone on the main street, and drag them into our car. This way we get them alone, and in private. I just moved close to the curb, narrowly missing you, as you moved off, a very simple, ploy. Yes, we were told that you would be at that junction at that point in time, we parked up, just up the road.

Ah, here she come's, the lady watching the road you were on, to alert us that you were coming, she had to walk, unfortunately, Number three will you make her a brew please? Now Simon, the contract you need to sign. It states that being of sound mind, we can't have everything, can we? You agree to a period of not less than one month, under my tuition. I will educate you in being a female, and keep you. Providing food, shelter, and clothing, for the duration of the training period. In return you will provide adequate compensation for the capture, training, and keep.

The compensation you will provide is to be by way of your labours, keeping us, comfortable. It must amount to at least two hundred pounds a day, in labours; the slight problem will come, when we work out the costs. There are six of us, at two hundred pounds each, comes to twelve hundred pounds, a day. That is quite a lot of money, and with wages of eight pounds an hour, there aren't enough hours in the day, to pay us, so, we have a problem.

Do you think your friends will pay, the balance?" She asked me, looking intently at me; I shook my head, and hung it.

"Then we have a problem, seeing as the bill is already, twelve hundred pounds," she told me.

My mind was in turmoil, I didn't know a Simon Potter, and although sexually active, I didn't have a girlfriend, but being a transvestite was, my inclination.

This could be fun, but not knowing any of the people mentioned, did worry me, who the fuck had organised this, and why?

I sat there unable to do anything, except listen to her, and wait for my chance to speak, or get free, and investigate, or at least tell them they had the wrong, person.

She slid the contract across the table to me, I looked at it, it was just as she had stated, they would keep me in exchange for keeping them comfortable, but what did they mean by, comfortable? It did say that they would clothe me, as they felt I would wish to be clothed, which I took to mean, as a transvestite. So, I was not going to argue with that, but I also felt I had to, I was not the person, or was I; was this the name of my Avatar, for this dream?

No, I was me in the last one, so I must, by the same reckoning, be me, in this one; so, I had to fight them, but how? I was tied, fixed, unable to move, and to the chair, they were very good at fixing you, in place.

Two of the women got up, and came over to me, they removed my tie, and undid my shirt, then exposed my nipples, and then they undid a hand. How, don't ask, but they did, and tied it with a length of rope to the chair. The rope was long enough for me to be able to sign, the contract.

"All you have to do is, sign," she told me, smiling at me.

I looked at her through defiant eyes, and shook my head. The two women stood by me, who had un-tied my hand now opened my shirt, and I felt a searing pain as they clamped my nipples. I went to move the clamps, and found that they had put the rope through an eye now fixed to the table, and I couldn't reach the clamps, the rope would not reach.

I shook my head vigorously, trying to get free, but they had me fixed, and then I opened my eyes wide, as they threw the chains attached to the clamps over the clothes rack, and added a weight.

"The rules, very simple, you do, as told, now sign, five, four, three, two, one, and," she said counting down to the women, adding another, weight.

Tears now gathered in my eyes it hurt, I breathed heavily, and she again counted down, and they added another weight, so I signed, and pushed the contract back to her panting from the pains, I felt. The women removed the clamps, and went back, and sat down.

"Excellent, I don't like doing anything, without the person's consent. Shall we retire to the lower level, where we can continue with, the interview?" The woman asked generally.

In a flash, my hand was back tied to the chair, as it had been before the signing, and four of the women were lifting the chair up. We now followed the woman in procession, down the stairs into her cellar, and it was dark, mysterious, and dingy. Ideal, to set the scene for torture, and punishment, candle lights flickered on the walls, dim red lights, lit the ceiling. The only other form of light was the brazier, which burned in the corner, giving off a red glow, but very little heat, the room felt cold, as a dungeon should, feel.

It had the aura of a cold, brutal dungeon; the air was thick with the essences of past tortures, no smells, just the feeling of pain and torture, sending shivers down, my spine.

A cage stood in the back corner out of my view now, but I saw it as we entered. A rack of canes, and floggers hung on the wall directly in the front of it, but to the side. Across the wall facing me stood the brazier then a few feet away a cross, with shackles hanging from it, then another few feet to a rack, running from the corner out into the room. A bloody wicker basket stood next to it, against the wall, and in the final corner stood an iron maiden, nothing looked new, clean, or unused, they all had dark, red stains on them.

Eerie, is not the word, terrifying, would be far more, appropriate. Chillingly, more so, as I sat there, taking it all in, frightened, as to what or how the questioning, would go.

It was all very theatrical, as they put the chair down facing a table, they now, all took their places on the opposite side, facing me. The woman opened a file, and looked at the first page, then lifted her head, and smiled at me.

"Before me is the file we have been keeping on you, quite thick, as you can see. Twelve months is a long time for us to keep a file, but we needed to ensure that everything was confirmed, and verified, before we acted.

Twelve months ago, today, what were you doing at, number six, Oxford Street, was it screwing, sorry," she said, and smiled at me, "Engaging in sexual activities with the female known to entertain, shall we say, gentlemen?" She asked me, I shook my head.

She slid a photo across the desk, to me, "Is that not you; entering the said, address?" She asked me.

I looked at the photo, and had to agree, it looked like me, but I knew I had never been to the address. I didn't even know, where, it was?

"Can you see the number on the door, and the street sign on the wall; six, Oxford Street, yes, can you see it now, is that you?" she demanded, and I had to nod.

"Let's move on to two weeks later, again is that you sat at the dinner table with the same woman, the one you say you do not know, well, is it?" she demanded, and I again had to nod, it most certainly looked, like me.

What about a month later, the height of summer, and on the beach at a local holiday resort, is that you in the arms of the same woman, and where is your hand? She seems to be enjoying where ever, it is, hidden by your bodies. One must assume it is fingering her clit from the angle of the arm, and the smile on her face. Well, do you deny that you are having sexual relations with her, and in public?" She asked me, and I shook my head, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember any, of the occasions.

"Two weeks later, and once again you are stood at the door; you allege you, have never been to. Do you really think; we are stupid? Look at it, you cannot deny that is you, can you?" she shouted, demanding I agree to the accusation, so reluctantly, I shook my head.

"No, indeed not," she said, and paused, "We will move forward to two months ago, when you left her house, and look at the expressions. She is throwing you out. Why? Well, if we go back two weeks prior to that particular date. We have a photo of you entering number sixteen, the very same street. Didn't you think she, would know? For crying out loud, the same fucking street, how fucking stupid, are you? No wonder she threw you out, is it?" She asked me, demanding I answer her, so I shook my head allowing it to hang, now ashamed, yet I did not recognise, the woman.

She now placed a phone in front of me, "This is the best ever, and we videoed it, no sound, the air would be blue. The agent filming it, heard what was said, and wrote it down. The clean words were: - You, blank, filthy, blank, blank, what the blank, hell do you think, you are doing you, blank, blank. That blank is my, blank, blank, I'll scratch your, blank, eyes blank, out, you blank, blank.

Now watch as she drags you back to number six, with the other woman now enraged. Following on, at number six there is a scuffle, between, the females. A neighbour separates them, are you watching this, it is very graphic, isn't it? As when they are separated, the woman from number sixteen grabs the dress of number six, and rips it off. Number six gets free of the woman holding her, and rips the dress off the woman from number sixteen, and she gets her hands on her bra, and rips that off, as well, allowing the woman's breasts from number sixteen free, and wobbling, delightfully.

She also manages to slap them, but the woman from sixteen now gets her revenge, and rips the others bra off, now both are wobbling. and bouncing free of their entrapment.