INTRODUCTION

 

In modern England, there are some very rich and powerful men and women who, offended by a girl's refusal of their sexual advances, have created a place to punish them. St Hilda's, a school for young ladies from eighteen to mid twenties was set up by 'Mother' Aurora and her powerful friends to correct the 'wayward' young women of the nation's poor and others who were sent to her by her rich and powerful backers. Once ensconced behind its grey walls, girls were taught to see the error of their ways - and to be prepared for their ultimate fate: slavery.

And then they were sold, most often to overseas buyers: oil-rich sheikhs, African princes, Chinese mandarins, and others who had the wealth and facilities to keep slaves in the modern day.

This, the second part of the St Hilda's story, is told from the mouth of one of the girls.

 

Chapter 1

 

My first impression of Ling Ho was one of awe. Not fear, but a mixture of admiration and respect. He was just so dignified! He was tall and slim but had a look of great strength. When he moved, it was with a grace normally found only in ballet dancers and gymnasts. He didn't exactly glide. It was more a quite natural but very graceful walk. His face displayed a serenity that came from inner peace. Whatever he thought and did, he was clearly quite comfortable with it. It also showed a handsomeness usually only found in matinee idols and added to the overall grace and elegance of the man.

Of all the men and women who had bid on my body, I was glad it was he who now owned me ...

Owned me ... What a strange concept. In this modern age, the very idea of being owned by another person was foreign. But not to us. The idea of slavery had been so thoroughly, even ruthlessly hammered into our minds that most of us, by the time we were sold, were actually looking forward to it.

Remember, we had been trained to be the best pleasure slaves in existence. Admittedly, there aren't all that many of us, at least in the western world, but from what I've discovered, they aren't all that rare, either. Anyway, we really were the best. Mother Aurora and the 'sisters' and 'brothers' who made up the staff of St Hilda's School for Wayward Girls had taken us as raw young women and then moulded us physically and mentally into perfect slavegirls, capable of giving intense pleasure to her owner, be they male or female, for long periods.

I had been kidnapped and enslaved as a punishment, simply because I had refused the advances of one of my employer's clients. Others, such as Su-Lee, a Thai girl of exquisite beauty and now probably the best sexual athlete that had passed through the school's doors, had been enslaved to stop her reporting a young aristocrat to the police for rape.

The two of us had been paired under Brother Thomas' direction and when it had come time to sell us, he had suggested to the Mother Superior (as she called herself) that we be sold as a pair. We had brought the school's backers a nice round sum of five million pounds and now we were owned by Ling Ho. He lost no time in having his driver collect us and now we had another nice surprise.

The driver was black and just as handsome as his employer - or, I should say, owner, for, as I was soon to discover, Mambo was as much a slave as we were. They were dressed differently; Ling Ho wearing the trousers and long over-garment formerly favoured by members of the Chinese ruling class, while Mambo wore a one-piece chauffeur's uniform. Both garments showed off their physiques well, though. Ling Ho was tall - around 185 cm, I guessed, but Mambo was even taller. He pegged in at just on two metres, which is over six feet six inches in the old scale and his body matched his stature perfectly.

I was to discover Ling Ho's physique was perfect in a slender, athletic sense, but Mambo's was also perfect and this could be discerned even through his body-fitting clothing, although the perfection of his sculpted muscles didn't become known to me until I saw him stripped, later that day. Nevertheless, his handsome features, warm brown eyes and almost perpetually smiling face (that showed off his flawless white teeth), the broad shoulders, slender waist and powerful thighs, all pointed to a body that had to be exceptional.

We left almost immediately. Mambo paid Mother Superior her five million and then Mambo led us out to the car, or rather limo, for it really was enormous. A long black monster with an enormous cabin for Ling Ho in the back. He got in first and sat back in the plush seat at the rear. We were ordered by Mambo to climb in after him and to sit on the two little dickie seats that faced backwards. There was no suggestion that we be clothed for the journey and, although I and the other girls at the school had spent a good deal of our time naked, we had never been outside its high walls in that state and I felt a new wash of shame pass over me as I imagined everyone peering in through the windows at my nakedness as we moved through towns and cities. As it happened I needn't have worried for while we could see out of them, no-one could see in.

"Keep your legs wide open all the time, slaves," he whispered to us in that wonderful sing-song accent of the Caribbean, then he closed the door and went around to the driver's seat. Ling Ho sat back and his black eyes stared from one to the other of us as Mambo expertly drove the huge limousine back towards London.

"And now you will tell me of yourselves ... First you, slavegirl, Milly ..."

I stared at him. Why would he be interested in me? This man was very powerful and very, very rich. He owned girls - and also, as I was to discover, young males as well. But he was interested and as I told him of my birth in the East End of London and my boring job and my boyfriends, I knew he was taking it all in and was not simply being polite. Heavens, why would he need to be polite to me!

And after I had finished and he had questioned me even more closely about Evan Halliday, the man who had been responsible for my being kidnapped and enslaved, he turned to Su-Lee and asked her to tell her story. Again, when she got to the part where the young aristocrat had raped her and his father had then had her abducted and sent to St Hilda's to prevent her reporting the crime to the police, his fine black eyes had narrowed just slightly.

I felt a shudder pass through me. I decided it would not be a good thing to cross this man who was still only thirty-nine and yet who had amassed a fortune to rival that of Bill Gates and yet was almost unknown outside China.

I had a new thought. We were no doubt heading for the airport and yet there was no sign of any clothing for us. Surely even a man as powerful as Ling Ho would not dare to parade us naked through the terminal? But I wasn't game to ask. You didn't, of Ling Ho; that I knew instinctively.

As it happened, I needn't have worried. When we reached Heathrow, the car merely took a course onto the apron and proceeded to a huge jet aircraft where Mambo drove the car straight on up a ramp and into its belly while the ramp closed after our entry. As the car came to a standstill, I felt the plane moving and wondered once more at the power of this man who had his own aeroplane and who didn't even need to go through customs and immigration formalities.

We alighted from the car and entered a small elevator that whisked us up to the passenger deck. I was very self-conscious about my nakedness and I knew Su-Lee was, too but we had been trained under the whip and the judicious use of our implants to be slaves and so obedience was our prime consideration - at all times.

I see I have not mentioned our implants yet. They were natty little gadgets shaped like a large coin that Dr Jones had implanted into our lower bellies and wired to our clitorises. A touch of the digits of our slave number on the controller, followed by the pressing of either the pink or red button, caused us to receive either a mild shock - a warning, or a violent, horrible, tearing one that caused us to double over in agony, clutching at our groins (quite uselessly), until the person with the controller let the button go. Those shocks left us drained and shaking uncontrollably for quite a few minutes after the current was turned off and we feared them as nothing else in this world ...

I hadn't seen either Ling Ho or Mambo with one of these terrible units but I knew they would have been given at least one.

You may be wondering how they knew our numbers? Because they were branded onto our flesh, just as the mark of St Hilda's had been. We had been depilated permanently first so that there was no trace of body hair anywhere on our flesh (at least below our faces, anyway) and then, using a branding iron that had been made from a large electric soldering iron, to the business end of which the actual brand - a whip crossed saltire with a cane and encircled with a ring, had been welded.

This, when glowing a bright red, had been pressed into the flesh of our bellies, half way between our navels and the top of our vaginal slits, after which a metallic powder had been poured in, creating a real golden image on our bodies. Our numbers were then imprinted on our upper left thighs using the same procedure. Mine was 148, and Su-Lee's, 141.

All the staff at St Hilda's had a controller and all they had to do was to press the digits for our number, followed by one of the two coloured buttons and wham! we felt pain instantly.

The passenger compartment of the enormous plane was luxury itself. No first class section of a public airliner was anywhere near this one for the furniture and fittings here. But I had no eyes for them, not at first. I was staring goggle-eyed at the people up there. There were two classes of them. The first, apparently Ling Ho's staff, were all Chinese and were dressed identically in gorgeous silk garments that reminded me of pictures of the court of the old Chinese emperor. The rest, all slaves apparently, were all as naked as Su-Lee and me and were as pretty (or as muscular) as we were - and just as well toned in their physiques.