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It was while she sat on the bed for the ten or fifteen minutes that she was left alone that the first doubts began to surface. For the very first time she began to know real fear. She had not the slightest idea as to where she had been brought - the silk-like bag pulled down over her head and which fell to below her breasts ensured that she had seen nothing whatever. With her hands steel-locked behind her and her ankles similarly bound, she was powerless to remove the ballgag which was drawn tightly into her mouth over the hood. The metal collar now clamped around her neck was attached to something that rattled - a chain! - and she quickly discovered that she was tethered to something substantial.
In short, she was helpless.
It was Friday night. Tomorrow they had been due to depart on that ten-day holiday and she had worked late at the office to ensure that the week should both begin and end with a full weekend. At nearly ten o'clock, the third-level of the car park had been deserted when she left the lift but, as she walked to her car, a strangely urgent call had caused her to turn.
She had been startled by the sight of a woman enveloped in a voluminous black robe that seemingly covered her from the top of her head right down to the ground. She was veiled so that only a pair of dark eyes was visible. As Deirdre hesitated, the woman raised arms toward her and she seemed to be profferring something in her right hand. It was vaguely familiar but Deirdre's attention was held by the woman slowly sinking as though about to collapse.
She had put down her brief case and had started forward when the silk bag had abruptly cut-off her contact with the world. A powerful arm wrapped around her torso had pinned her own arms to her body and trapped her in the folds of the bag. It was then came the gag and Deirdre recalled the object that the woman had held. She had been a decoy. The attack from behind had been so swift and unexpected that she was silenced, blinded and pinioned before she had in any way conceived of danger.
Her first reaction was of impatience. This was not the time for Geoff to pull one of his stunts. There would be plenty of time for bondage games during the next week or so and tonight it was late, she was tired, she wanted a shower, she needed a drink, she was badly in need of something to eat - and then the only thing she craved was bed. But the man who held her was certainly not Geoff; he was much bigger and the chest against which she was pinned rippled with muscles that were not Geoff's either.
She was lifted and carried a short distance - presumably to the other side of the level which, she'd noticed, had been in darkness - and then set down on her side on a pile of cushions. The bang of closing doors indicated that she was in the back of a van and soon she realised too that the woman was beside her because it was definitely female hands that held Deirdre down. They drove steadily for some time and then the vehicle began to twist and turn eventually to crunch over gravel before it came to a halt. Even through her silken hood she had no trouble identifying the closing sound of an up-&-over garage door . Again she was carried, set down on this bed and the collar clicked around her neck. Then nothing.
How long she sat there she did not know but eventually came the sound of a door opening and someone entered; the rustle of material suggested a long gown and it wasn't necessary to be a Sherlock Holmes to deduce that most probably it was the woman who had distracted her in the car park. It was at that moment that Deirdre first regretted that she had abandoned those martial-arts classes; shackled as she was such skills could avail little but, whatever this woman was about to attempt, if she but released her hands or legs ... a brief moment would suffice even now after a year without practice.
Someone climbed on the bed behind her and, reaching around, began to undo the buttons of her jacket. Deirdre thrust backwards with her cuffed hands hoping to make contact with the interloping body but the woman responded with a sharp tug that sent Deirdre on to her back with her legs lifting helplessly into the air. Undaunted, she swung her legs up and over her head hoping yet to land a kick. Later she was to realise that it would have helped her not at all because the fetters and the tether would still have held her helpless but Deirdre did not give up without a fight. This woman was not a novice either; she caught Deirdre's legs, pulled them down over her face and sat astride her ankles thus holding her helplessly in a wrestler's folding press, her hands locked beneath her body.
At her leisure now, she finished unbuttoning Deirdre's coat and then her blouse and unhooked her front-fastening bra after which she nimbly released the hold. With a hand under Deirdre's neck she catapulted her captive into the sitting position with such force that she had dragged the clothing off her shoulders and down to her cuffed wrists before Deirdre had even guessed her intention.
The woman fitted a second pair of cuffs above the clothing, released the original on Deirdre's left hand and so removed everything without allowing the smallest chance of retaliation. Now her cuffed wrists were seized and lifted forcing the unfortunate girl to bend forward. The neck tether became taut and threatened to topple her sideways so that Deirdre was obliged to sit very still while those quick searching fingers unfastened her skirt and worked her out of the remainder of her clothes. The second pair of cuffs were transferred to her ankles so that the clothes could be removed from her legs and then a flimsy garment that seemed to be trousers were pulled up her legs before the cuffs were restored.
From being confused and humiliated, Deirdre now began to get angry. As her wrists were allowed to fall, she turned on the bed trying to locate this elusive enemy who seemed to be everywhere and yet nowhere. But the result was the same; there came a hard contact on her ankle but, even as she lined up a kick, she felt the small chain drop between her legs and seconds later it was stretching her along the bed pulling against the chain tether attached to her neck.
Perhaps it was at this point that a horrible truth began to pierce Deirdre's hooded world ... she was helpless. She was a prisoner as she had never been before. This was not Geoff playing one of their pretend games. She did not have the safe word that would enable her to end the proceedings if it all became too much. The ball strapped in her mouth denied her the use of any such word or indeed any word of protest. Her mouth was getting dry with the fear but her chin and lower face were soaked in drool and these people, unlike Geoff, did not bother to provide relief. If this woman, no bigger than herself, could handle her so easily then what chance did she have of escape?
Briefly she thrashed on the bed only to feel pain in her ankles and a distinct feeling of strangulation as the collar held her neck in its unyielding grip. She was stilled by a deep feeling of despair that washed over her as she recalled that black-robed and veiled woman; was she in the clutches of white slavers? Surely they only existed in these modern times in the imaginations of people like themselves who indulged in the fantasies of a bondage world. But, once such an idea intruded, it soon began to assume believable proportions.
Why would a woman walk in a multi-storey car-park in a western country in distinctly eastern garb that covered her from head to foot and with her face completely veiled? She must belong to a sect where women were dressed like that and obeyed commands without question. She had distracted Deirdre and given the man the chance to take her swiftly and soundlessly. Even should she escape, she could not give a description of either assailent or the vehicle used in her abduction. She had no idea whatever of the location of her present imprisonment and, secured in this manner, there was no chance whatever that she would improve her knowledge. As far as her normal world was concerned ... Deirdre Reynolds must simply have vanished.
She was about to become another of those statistics, one more missing person whose fate would remain unknown. Somehow it didn't seem quite the same when you were reading about yourself?
She was rolled on to her side and a padded leather cuff was fastened around her right wrist. Something was pushed under her and then a similar cuff was fastened to her left wrist and then the steel handcuffs were released. She discovered that, from being cuffed behind her, her hands were now joined by a long-chain across her front but, immediately, that was pulled up above her head and she was stretched out on the bed; poor consolation that at least it relieved the strain on her neck.
Now something else was pushed under her straining body and she felt a length of material being tied around her bosom. Slavers that were concerned for her modesty? She thought briefly of Alice in Wonderland - curiouser and curiouser. She returned to reality but listened in vain for the next move. Silence! Was she now alone? Partly as an experiment to find their reaction and partly to restore her flagging confidence she fought her bonds but she knew for certain that handcuffs and chains, when properly applied, were not to be slipped.
Now, lying there stretched helplessly , gagged and hooded her mind went back to that conversation several weeks ago with Geoff. They had spent a wonderful bank-holiday weekend playing at bondage. It had started on Friday evening when Geoff had waylaid her as she came in and he had held her captive in many different ways until Monday evening. Most probably he would have released her had she used her safe word but he had clearly intended to hold her prisoner and make her slave for him.
Afterwards she had expressed just those thoughts:
"What do you mean?" he had asked.
"Well, I know that I'm safe with you whatever you do to me. Although I've never used it yet, I do always have the safety word to fall back on - it's never been necessary which is why I feel so safe with you . But I often wonder what victims must feel like when they are truly held captive. There are tales of adventure where heroines are captured by pirates or raiders or bad men of all sorts and held against their will. I keep wondering what it's like to be sold as a slave and to know that there's no way back. Your old life gone forever and you are nothing ... nobody ... no freedoms ... your every minute ... your very body belongs to some other person ... ? It's a thrill for me when I'm held for a few hours in your chains ... but ... what if those chains are rivetted on and never come off?"
"You long to be enslaved for real?"
"Good God, NO! But our games are just that, aren't they, Geoff? Games. In the past, for some, it has been real."
She slept until she was returned abruptly to the present by hands unbuckling the gag. They weren't the small hands of the woman but more like the massive ones of the man who had captured her. The hood was worked up from under the collar and she was blinking in the light. Leaning over her was the figure of a large man. Her first impression was of a white turban beneath which a pair of dark eyes regarded her from above a black full beard. He was dressed western fashion in a medium grey suit with collar and tie. Very large hands held the hood which he had just removed. He fitted exactly her fantasy of a rich eastern aristocrat who maintained his fortune by kidnapping white girls to sell into harems. He also fitted her impression of the man who had snatched her.
The beard split to a smile that revealed strong white teeth. When he spoke his voice was surprisingly quiet yet she felt it could easily rise to command. He spoke in English: "Oh, yes. The information was excellent. She exactly fits the requirements. You have done well. We shall have a very satisfied customer and the price will be good. Have her ready in an hour." He turned back at the door: "And cover her face... he'll not buy if she looks like a whore."
As he turned away, she saw the shrouded form of the woman who had decoyed her in the car park. At least she presumed her to be the same? Beneath the flowing black robe and the veil she could have been any woman. Her first act was to replace the gag; Deirdre was chagrined to realise that she had not thought to speak or shout or scream. For several hours, she had been gagged and hooded ... had silence and acquiescence become a habit? Had she succumbed so easily to schooling... was she really that easy to break?
The veiled woman now fitted her ankles with leather cuffs and joined them with a short chain after which she removed the steel cuffs. The hobble gave her greater freedom but she was still stretched out. She rolled Deirdre on to her side and, reversing the process by which she had chained her to the bed, she locked the prisoner's hands behind so that the wrist chain was now wrapped around her waist like a belly chain. She now replaced the hood, released the chain restricting her feet and then the tether leaving it still attached to her collar. An unceremonious tug on the tether brought the captive girl to feet rendered unsteady both by the long confinement and the short hobble.
For the moment at least the fight had gone out of Deirdre as she was led from the room along what she supposed to be a passage and pushed into another room . She was stripped, showered, dried, powdered, scented and pampered in many ways but always the woman maintained her silence as though she too were gagged behind that veil? Refreshed but hungry and dejected Deirdre was led back to the same room and again tethered.
Something, a gossamer-like material, was laid across her shoulders and tied around her neck - it seemed to be some kind of cloak. The hood was removed and the woman set about fitting what Deirdre recognised as a yashmak - a double veil She first tied the combination around Deirdre's head, with both veils hanging in front, and then threw the long foremost one back over her head. It too was largely transparent but the face veil proved to be almost opaque and provided in a measure the modesty denied by the cloak. Deirdre confessed her puzzlement; why should they dress her in see-through clothes and then hide her behind a thick veil? The ball in her mouth prevented any questions even were her jailor prepared to answer them.
The woman crossed the room and drew aside a curtain to reveal a heavy door. Returning she released Deirdre from the wall and tugged her across to that door. She did something behind Deirdre which resulted in her hands suddenly being freed from the waist binding and, with her hobble swishing along the carpeted floor and the wrist chain bumping her knees, she was led out into a pool of bright light. Spotlights above and two more low down on the floor prevented her from seeing whoever was in that room. There were at least two males; she recognised the voice of her captor and the other spoke in a staccato language which she took to be Arabic. Was that her intended Master?
She was paraded around the circle of light. At a sharp command, the woman removed her face veil and, almost at once, replaced it. Then she was taken back, re-attached to the wall and the hood was replaced but this time with a distinct click. Her hands were not restricted and a short exploration told her that it was locked around her neck with a metal ring. She could only stand and wait. Deep within her she resented being chained like an animal and paraded around like goods on display. If people thought that beauty competitions reduced women to the status of animals they ought to try this sort of thing. But, in all, the fight had gone from Deirdre and, in the hopelessness of her situation, it did not seem to matter.
How long she was left standing there she had no idea; Time, like life itself, had lost all meaning. Then someone began to work on her again. Her hands were once again locked behind her with the wrist chain around her waist. The hood was removed and some kind of cloak was again thrown around her shoulders which she soon recognised as the same kind of garment in which the woman was clad. Already veiled they could move her in this without arousing the suspicions of casual onlookers. In response to the tug on her collar, she moved forward and, as they emerged from the house, she saw that dawn was just breaking. She was pushed into a large limousine. After strapping her tightly with the seat-belt, the woman sat beside her and fastened her own belt.
The drive did not last long. When they turned into a field, Deirdre saw that she was headed for a small helicopter. When strapped into a seat, with ear-defenders clamped to her head and again the woman beside her, the big man began to start the engines. Deirdre's torpor was abruptly interrupted as a small hand moved lightly down her arm to grasp her own hand. That small gesture of sympathy did wonders for Deirdre's state of mind. This woman, she knew, could speak English yet had not uttered a single word; once again she wondered if, beneath that veil, she too was gagged? As a helpless slave herself, perhaps she understood the captive's agony? Clearly she was not shackled but Deirdre had already tasted the debilitating effect of strict confinement and isolation from her fellow beings. The loss of one's self?
They headed south with the rising sun on their left. Despite her unwelcome predicament Deirdre could but wonder at the spectacle. Then the sound of the engine changed and she found that the countryside was rising to meet them. They put down in the centre of a circular drive in front of an unpretentious house and Deirdre was led into a spacious square hall with a balcony all around at first-floor level. Here she was divested of the black robe but left veiled. With her back against the bannisters of a staircase that led upward to the balcony her hands were freed from her waist and then pulled up above her head and secured. Once again she waited.
Was this to be her life from now on? Permanently gagged. Permanently chained. Either paraded on display or pinned like a specimen to the wall? 'Twould be better were she kept as a scullery slave. Perhaps, had she been less easy on the eye... ? Perhaps, in that event, she would not have been kidnapped in the first place.
A hand was cupped gently around her chin but Deirdre was not in the mood to cooperate ... she kept her head bent and her eyes steadfastly on the ground. The hand shook her head gently from side to side; then, with its increasing insistence, she looked up. As if she needed more grief the face staring at her seemed to be that of Geoff. She closed her eyes briefly and then looked again. It was still Geoff's face but this time it smiled... albeit with a certain amount of concern. On the verge of hysterics, she stretched her arms to his neck but the chain stopped her abruptly. Confused and uncertain, she burst into tears.
Now his arms held her. "Don't be frightened, pet. You're really quite safe. Do I gather that to be really enslaved is not at all a welcome experience?"
Unable to speak, she shook her head slowly and then, past his shoulder, she saw that big man entering. The turban was gone to reveal a head of dark hair greying slightly at the temples and above his ears. To his left, and a step behind him, walked a most striking woman. She was small but slender and was dressed in an exquisite black gown that reached to the floor. She wore a jewel at her throat which reminded Deirdre of the collar she herself wore but this woman could not be a slave. A mass of black hair, braided with jewels, fell forward over her right shoulder and descended to her waist.
As she came forward, she turned on Deirdre a smile that would have melted an iceberg and then, looking into the dark eyes, Deirdre knew her as her veiled jailor.
"Meet my business associates," began Geoff. "We can't pronounce their names and so they like to be called Jim and Merry. They agreed to satisfy your curiousity as to the reality of slavery but Merry here decided you have had enough and your week has become little more than twelve hours."
Merry came forward and kissed her gently on the cheek. "I would have released you last night but it was decided to keep it up until this moment. You stopped fighting... but I saw in your eyes that you had not truly given up." Her voice was strangely husky. "This is my house," she went on; "and I am giving it to you for the remainder of your holiday. But Jim too has a present for you."
The big man came forward and took her manacled hands in his. He looked down into her upturned face: "I hope we haven't scared you too much, " he said, "although that is probably something of an understatement? My penitent gift is this set of manacles. I had them made by the finest craftsmen available and I hope you will come to enjoy them. They are indeed, you will find, as much pieces of jewellery as anything. But I have one condition to impose... " The beard split to reveal again those strong white teeth. "The complete set, all five pieces, is now yours but you may not have the key until I return next Friday evening. For this week I bequeath our captured slave to my good friend Geoff."
Merry clapped her hands and three veiled figures slipped in through a curtained door. Deirdre was surprised to see that they were dressed exactly as she complete with hand-irons but they were not hobbled. "This house will provide everything you need and these three girls will serve you at any time of the day or night. Like you they are not real slaves; two are our daughters and the third a cousin but all three have volunteered to share your predicament. The keys to their fetters are also in Jim's pocket. For this week you are no longer Deirdre but the slave Mala. The eldest of your slave-girls will answer to the English name of Mary. They will acknowledge Geoff as the Master of the House and will be responsible for your care and safety. I hope we shall be good friends. Be good... all of you." She turned at the door and blew a graceful kiss toward Deirdre.
Deirdre did not realise that they had left until she heard the helicopter's engine fire up. As the sound died away Geoff turned to the girl who stood forward of the other two. As he spoke he drew a piece of black cloth from his pocket: "Mala is in need of attention and almost certainly she is hungry too. When you have finished bring her to me fully dressed..." As he turned back she recognised the cloth in his hand as the hood of her recent acquaintance and shook her head frantically. But, with detached unconcern, he drew it down over her head and locked it around her neck.
What did he mean "fully dressed...?" More like Geoff to hold her in bondage in a state of total UNdress!
Soft and gentle hands freed her from the bannisters but, as she was led away, she boiled with fury. How dared Geoff treat her like this, with such indifference ... almost disdain. She was NOT his slave... she was his WIFE. But had not Jim said he was giving her to Geoff for the week and that her name was Mala? She wanted to give them both a piece of her mind but... her mouth was blocked, her hands and feet were not hers to command, she was as helpless as a new-born babe. These girls were ordered to obey Geoff and, even could they free themselves, there was little hope there.
Deep within her began that old buzzy feeling. No way! He wasn't going to get away with this. He would get a piece of her mind with no uncertainty.
And... yet... ?
The girls removed her hood and veil and dropped their own veils. With much giggling, they bathed and groomed her and then fed her. She raised her hands to examine the cuffs locked about her wrists; they were indeed works of art and, despite her recent experience, she knew that she loved them. Then something decended in front of her face and she saw what was obviously a new ball-gag offered to her mouth. This one was not mounted on chain or a strap but on two semi-circular metal bands decorated so as to match exactly her fetters. Neither was it a ball but some almost pear-like shape. Her hands were seized and pulled down, the gag was expertly slipped between her teeth and the two bands closed around her face with a click. It was a very effective gag and much more comfortable than a ball but...
Now came a larger version which was clicked around her waist. From each side of this fell a very short chain each of which carried another decorative band and the girls locked these around her wrists. Mary explained that the gag and wrist bands did not require a key but that anyone secured in them could not reach to unlock them for herself. The other shackles, which were distributed between the four of them, could only be opened by the key in her Father's pocket.
This must be the full set of five pieces to which Jim had referred: handcuffs, hobble, waist belt with wrist restraints, collar, gag. It explained Geoff's odd instruction to bring her back "fully dressed."
The girl Mary replaced Deirdre's veil and then the three girls replaced their own veils and prepared to take her back to Geoff. While they dropped their veils, Mary further explained, they were just four girls together but, once veiled, they were back in the slave-girl scenario. Again cold fury mounted inside Deirdre. They simply could not treat her in this off-hand manner. She was a human being not a toy... She wasn't even one of the daughters. She was NOT going to become a pet or a plaything. If she was to be a slave then kitchen chores were one thing but this was going too far.
And... yet... ?
Again the world went dark as the hood was locked around her neck. A small giggle sounded in her ear, came a gentle tug on her leash and Mary's husky voice said: "The Master awaits."
MASTER ! Deirdre exploded. Her step quickened only to be tripped by the short hobble. Her guardians caught and steadied her on her feet. Her hands jerked, working furiously against the waist belt. She was stopped by the bump on her knee cap ... the long chain that still swung permanently between her wrists gave a reminder that there was nothing whatever that she could do to protest against this. Whatever Geoff should decide... ?
The buzzy feeling was deepening but that only increased her impotent fury.
And... yet... ?
It was after all Geoff and not some...
But he hadn't sought her agreement. Nobody had discussed the matter with her. Even if her safeword would operate, she was powerless to utter it. They had not prepared any alternative signals. If she was always to be gagged and hooded when in Geoff's presence as now... ? But if he thought he was going to keep her veiled, chained, gagged, hooded, mounted on the wall like a specimen or a trophy while he was pampered by three lovely slave-girls... ?
If the ball stuffed in her mouth didn't prevent her from even grinning she might have burst into laughter. Just what the hell was going to stop him? The girls had been instructed to obey him. His wife had disappeared. His slave toy was unable to seduce him. Here he was cockalorum, king of the roost, master of all he surveyed. Within the bounds of his friends' trust - he could do ANYTHING he damn well pleased.
And ... yet ...
Unless her Master did something very soon about this buzzy feeling he was going to have an exploding slave-toy on his hands. In the dark world of the hood her brow wrinkled. Would that, she speculated, would that make her a big banger? Under that hood the darkness was steadily receding; a sun was beginning to rise.
Deirdre's confidence rose with it and she stepped out eagerly to go to her man. Once again however that short hobble tripped her. Yet again those willing hands caught her. Mary's voice in her ear: "We can't take it off. You MUST learn to be careful."
And... so... ?