Sisters in Slavery 1 | bdsm stories

“You’re quite sure about this, Miss Osborne? There is no chance that it could be just a simple computer error?”

“Absolutely none, sir. I’ve checked and re-checked the figures. It has to be a deliberate fraud and the amounts involved are huge.”

“Yes, I see. I can hardly believe it. And from what you have told me, some of my senior executives must be in on it.”

“I’m very much afraid that at least some of them must be, sir. The scale and complexity of an operation of this size couldn’t be hidden unless there was collusion at a very senior level.”

“No, I imagine not. This has come as a great shock to me, you know. A great shock. To think that some of my colleagues have abused their positions to do such a thing... Are you absolutely certain of your findings? Certain enough to go to the authorities?”

“The evidence is incontrovertible, sir. I have dates and figures which prove it beyond any shadow of doubt.”

“I see. Well then, I have no choice. Does anyone else know what you’ve found?”

“No, sir, not another soul. I’ve kept it strictly private, under lock and key.”

“Good. It’s too late to do anything this afternoon, but I will arrange a full meeting for 8.30

tomorrow evening. We’ll keep it quiet for the moment. Can you be ready by then?”

“Yes, of course, sir.”

“Very well, then. Bring everything you have to the main Boardroom tomorrow and when you have presented your results, I shall take the necessary action.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there. Uh... just one thing, sir. It might be quite... uh... unpleasant... “

“I’m sure it will, Miss Osborne. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure that Security is present to deal with anyone causing trouble.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m sure that’s a wise move. Good afternoon, sir.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Osborne. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As he lowered the phone back into its cradle, Andrew Morrison, European Chief Executive of Shimatsu Electronics, frowned angrily.

Damn the woman, he thought to himself, why couldn’t she have kept her interfering nose out of things that didn’t concern her.

How the Hell had she managed to stumble across the “black” file? It was supposed to be top secret, secure against any normal investigation.

Mr Shimatsu would be furious, he thought grimly and his neck would be on the chopping block, unless he could find a way to suppress the evidence that would blow the Company apart.

Not only his neck, either.

The blasted woman had been right, the operation did require collusion at the highest level and he, Crespi and O’Keefe, two of the other Executive Directors, were all in it together with Shimatsu himself.

If the story got out, they were all finished and Morrison knew it.

He forced himself to control his anger and concentrate.

The evidence had to be suppressed, to disappear, until every trace of the massive fraud could be buried so deeply that no-one would ever be able to find it again.

That wouldn’t be easy, but it could, eventually, be done.

Which left the problem of Miss Osborne...

He lifted the phone to his secretary, “Beth, get me Miss Osborne’s personal file please and tell Mr Crespi and Ms O’Keefe to come in to see me in an hour.”

Five minutes later, he was on his direct line to Ozeki Shimatsu and the millionaire owner of the Company was furiously demanding to know how the disaster could have occurred.

“Dawnelle O’Keefe is responsible for security, isn’t she?” the Japanese hissed venomously, “This is all her fault and I do not tolerate failure or stupidity in my employees.”

Morrison knew better than to argue with his boss, but tried to soothe the angry Oriental, “I know, sir,” he began, “But I’m having a meeting with Carlo and Dawnelle as soon as I come off the phone and I’m sure we can work something out.”

“You’d better!” Shimatsu snapped, “If the truth comes out, my loss of face would be unacceptable.

Who is this Osborne woman? What can you tell me about her? Is there any lever we can use against her to ensure she keeps quiet?”

Morrison consulted the personnel file, “She is twenty three and single, sir,” he reported, “Next of kin is a sister who shares her home. No other relatives. Honours Degree in Business, specialising in Accounts and Auditing. Five foot five inches tall, one hundred and fifteen pounds, blonde hair and blue eyes and she’s been with us just under three months.”

“So,” Shimatsu replied thoughtfully, “She is new to the Company. That is good. It is unlikely she would have any close friends or colleagues who would miss her if she were to suddenly disappear, then. On secondment to Head Office, perhaps?”

“Sir?” Morrison frowned, wondering what was in his boss’s mind.

“Yes. That would resolve the situation very satisfactorily. You will arrange for the record to show that she has been transferred here and I will do the rest. Set it up at once.”

“But sir,” Morrison protested, “She may not want to transfer to the other side of the world. What if she refuses?”

A low, cruel chuckle came down the phone line, “I suggest you don’t give her that option.”

Morrison took a deep breath, “You mean... kidnap her?”

“I prefer to call it... an enforced transfer,” Shimatsu replied coldly, “One that will save your neck, Andrew.”

“What will you... do with her when she gets there?” Morrison asked nervously, “You won’t...

won’t...?”

“Dispose of her?” Shimatsu finished the thought for him, “No, Andrew. That would be both dangerous and a waste. She will be kept quite safe, but in no position to harm our financial arrangements. As far as you and the world are concerned, Miss Osborne will simply vanish without trace. These things happen, particularly out here and I can assure you that any investigations that

may follow her disappearance will discover nothing. Just another example of a foreigner succumbing to the allure of the... ha... mystic East, as you Europeans call it.”

Morrison bit his lip, “Are you quite sure there’ll be no comeback?”

“Quite sure. We will all be safe to carry on making ourselves very, very rich.”

“Well... OK then,” Morrison agreed reluctantly, “But how do you suggest we get her to you? And what about her sister? She’s bound to ask questions and stir things up?”

Shimatsu laughed evilly, “Think, Andrew. Use your brain. We air freight components to you and you send the containers back with export goods, don’t you? I’m sure you could find room for a passenger inside one of them.”

“That’s right,” Morrison agreed, “We do it every day. It’s routine. No one takes any notice. Not even Customs.”

“Correct. As you say, it’s routine. And, of course, if one can travel that way, why not two?”

“The sister, you mean?”

“Why not? Then there would be no one to ask awkward questions.”

“It would work.”

“Yes, it will. Problem solved.”

“I’ll do it,” Morrison said firmly, “The damn girl shouldn’t have stuck her nose in. It’s her own stupid fault anyway. I’ll fix it with Carlo and Dawnelle and we’ll do it at the meeting tomorrow.”

“Good. The quicker, the better. I’m relying on you, Andrew. Don’t let me down,”

Morrison knew he was being warned and hurried to reassure his boss, “Don’t worry, sir. I’m not going to let one woman stand between us and all that money.”

“You had better not! Now, let’s get down to details...”

For half an hour, the two men immersed themselves in times and dates and flight plans, covering every contingency until the plan was perfect.

“Very good, Andrew,” Shimatsu said finally, “I knew I could rely on you. Just one more thing, I want Dawnelle O’Keefe to travel with our two... ah... guests in the container.”

“Dawnelle? What for?”

“For two reasons. One, to make quite sure that nothing goes wrong and two, I want to review our computer security with her. This breach of the “Black” file shows that access control is not as strong as it should be and I want to be absolutely certain that the error is put right.”

“All right, I’ll tell her.”

“Good. It’s quite some time since I had the pleasure of Dawnelle’s company. I look forward to renewing our acquaintance. Goodnight, Andrew.”

Andrew’s two partners listened in consternation as he relayed the bad news to them, “So that’s the situation,” he said, “And this is how we’re going to deal with it.”

As he told them of the plan he had thrashed out with Ozeki Shimatsu, the wiry, dark haired Carlo Crespi frowned, “It’s risky, but better than bribery. That would leave us open to blackmail for the rest of our lives.”

“I agree,” Dawnelle O’Keefe paced up and down the office, her long red hair shining, “But what I can’t understand is how she got into the file in the first place.”

“Because you screwed up,” Carlo snapped, “It was your job to make sure the file was secure and you blew it.”

Dawnelle turned on him furiously, “Shut up!” she yelled, “You don’t know anything about it, you little jerk. I designed the security system and I know it was unbreakable!”

Carlo shot to his feet, his face white with anger, “Unbreakable, you silly bitch? Then why are we in this mess? This is all your fault, you stupid cow!”

At nearly six feet tall in her high heels, Dawnelle towered five inches over the dark Italian and her face twisted in fury as her right palm described a swift arc to crack against Carlo’s swarthy cheek.

The powerful slap sent the smaller man reeling and Andrew leapt to his feet, coming between his two feuding partners, “Enough! Sit down, both of you! Fighting between ourselves isn’t going to solve anything.”

For a moment, the two glowered at each other, but then each regained control of their anger and took a seat.

“That’s better,” Andrew said, “Now, let’s forget about whose fault this is and concentrate on how we’re going to sort it out.”

Slowly, tempers cooled, but it was still a very tense atmosphere as plans were made to kidnap and freight the two Osborne sisters.

Carlo, it was agreed, would arrange transport by container; Dawnelle was to bring two Security staff-ones who could be trusted to keep their mouths shut-to the meeting, while Andrew undertook to falsify the paperwork to cover up the girls’ disappearance.

As Dawnelle strode stiffly from the room, refusing to even look at Carlo, the Italian’s eyes glittered with anger.

“She is a bitch, that one,” he muttered under his breath, “But one day I will teach her not to slap me!” and his lips twisted in a thin smile.

Maxine Osborne stared at her reflection in the long mirror, checking her appearance for about the twentieth time as she prepared for her crucial meeting.

“What do you think, Melissa?” she asked for the third time, “You don’t think this red scarf is too much, do you?”

“You look great. Stop worrying.”

Maxine looked across at her sister and saw a virtual duplicate of herself.

They were twins, Maxine the older by four minutes, the two inseparable from birth and their bond strengthened by the death of their parents in a car crash when they were eighteen.

Near identical in looks, their characters were distinctly different.

Where Maxine was reserved, hard-working and serious, Melissa was high-spirited and outgoing; a lover of partying and dances, acquiring and then dropping boyfriends without a care while her sister was more discerning.

Both had had lovers, Maxine rather fewer, but had always managed to avoid entanglements with their sibling’s partners and the inevitable difficulties that would have caused and were completely at ease with each other.

Maxine looked at her reflection again, examining the tailored navy blue suit which adorned her well proportioned figure, the gleaming white blouse hugging her firm breasts, the ruffled scarlet scarf at her throat and the black stockings and mid-heeled shoes beneath the skirt which ended a demure two inches above her knees.

“Yes, you’re right,” she agreed finally, “It’s fine.”

“Told you,” Melissa said casually, “You’ll knock them dead. What about me, then? Will they like this down at the Club, do you think?”

Melissa looked at the tight white sweater emphasising the thrusting globes of her sister’s bra-less breasts, then lowered her gaze to the skintight black leather micro-skirt and high-heeled thigh boots she wore.

“I should imagine it’ll be a riot,” she smiled ruefully, “How do you get away with it, Melissa? I wouldn’t dare go out in public dressed like that.”

“It turns the guys on,” Melissa chuckled, “I haven’t had to buy myself a drink for months.”

“I bet you haven’t. But what do you do if they get, you know, pushy?”

“I can look after myself,” Melissa replied confidently, “A guy only gets what I want to give him.

I’m the one in charge, not them and that’s the way I keep it.”

Maxine shook her head, smiling, “Oh well, fair enough. As long as it stays that way.”

“It will. I know what I’m doing. Come on, sis, time we were going.”

As she drove towards Shimatsu Electronics, Maxine said, “Shall I drop you off at the Club, Melissa?” but her sister shook her head, “No. It’s too early, yet. I’ll wait in the car until you’re finished and you can drop me off then.”

“Are you sure? I might be a long time, you know.”

“That’s all right. If I get bored, I’ll find a taxi.

“OK. No problem.”

The huge building was in darkness apart from the top floor and as Maxine entered her access code on the panel set into the armrest of her car’s door and the high double gates swung open, she pointed upwards, “That’s where my meeting is. If it goes well, it could change my whole life. I could really go places.”

Maxine was quite right... but not in the way she fondly imagined!

She drove around to the back of the building and parked, then got out and straightened her skirt,

“Wish me luck,” she said and Melissa smiled, “Good luck,” then settled back in her seat and turned the radio on as her sister walked away.

Riding up in the lift, Maxine took a deep breath, “This is it,” she murmured, “I’m on my way,” and as she stepped out and walked to the polished doors, she gripped her notes and evidence firmly in her right hand.

The doors swung open to her knock and she walked in.

The Boardroom was vast, a fifty-seat conference table stretching before her and at the far end, three people sat waiting as two burly, uniformed Security Guards escorted her towards them.

“Good evening, Miss Osborne.”

“Good evening, sir,” she replied to Andrew Morrison, the only one she recognised.

“Sit down, please. This is Ms O’Keefe and Mr Crespi, two of my senior Directors.”

The two Directors didn’t smile and Maxine grew a little nervous as she took her seat.

“May we see your evidence, please?” Morrison asked and Maxine handed it over.

As the papers were passed around, the faces of the three Directors darkened, “Is this everything you have?” Crespi snapped suddenly.

“Yes, sir,” Maxine answered, “As you can see, it’s quite clear cut.”

“Yes, it is,” Ms O’Keefe confirmed, “Who else knows about this?”

“No one, madam. Just us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course. Just the four of us.”

“Excellent!” Morrison nodded meaningfully, then snapped his fingers, “Now!”

The two Security Guards reacted like lightning, each seizing one of Maxine’s arms and twisting her slim wrists behind her back, forcing her to bend forward in her seat.

Taken completely by surprise, Maxine had no chance to resist and before she knew what was happening, a pair of handcuffs were locked tightly on her wrists.

Recovering her wits, Maxine cried, “What are you doing? Stop! Let me go!” but the men ignored her and snapped a second pair of cuffs about her ankles, securing her before she could begin to fight.

“What’s happening? Take these things off me!” Maxine wrenched and kicked in her efforts to free herself, but the steel circlets were locked and much too strong for her to break, digging into her soft skin as she fought in vain.

“Don’t be stupid,” the redheaded woman sneered, “You can’t get out of those so you might as well shut up and listen while we tell you what we’re going to do with you.”

The cold contempt in the woman’s voice sent a horrible chill through Maxine and she redoubled her efforts to escape, “Help!” she yelled at the top of her voice, “Help me somebody! Call the Police!”

A hard hand clamped over her lips, thumb and fingers digging into her cheeks, so that her screams died to whimpers of pain.

“Much better,” the speaker was Morrison and Maxine stared wildly at him as he smiled cruelly, “If you continue to scream, you will be gagged, but if you’re sensible and keep the noise down, you won’t be. So, are you going to be sensible?”

Maxine trembled in despair as his eyes stared at her, then managed a small nod.

He nodded at the man squeezing her cheeks and his grip slackened.

“Wh... What are you doing?” Maxine groaned, “Why have you tied me up? What have I done? Let me go. Please?”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Morrison replied calmly, “You see, you have caused us something of a problem and we can’t afford to let you go.”

“But why? What have I done?” she stared at the three people before her, “You have to let me go.

You can’t do this to me.”

“Oh, but we can,” Dawnelle O’Keefe said spitefully, “You shouldn’t have been so damned nosy and now you’re going to find out what happens to people who mess with us.”

As the redhead glared at her, Maxine shivered, suddenly realising what was going on.

“You’re all in on it,” she said slowly, “You’re the ones working the fraud!”

“Congratulations,” Dawnelle sneered, “Finally worked it out, have you? Yes, that’s right. We’ve got a nice profitable little scheme going here and we don’t intend to let you louse it up.”

Maxine’s blue eyes opened wide and she stammered, “Wh... What are you g... going to d... do with me?”

Carlo Crespi chuckled, “We’re going to send you on a little trip,” he grinned, “Air freight!

Somewhere where what you know won’t hurt us.”

“It’s all arranged,” Dawnelle told the frightened captive, “You’ll be going tonight-and you won’t be coming back!”

“No!” Maxine screamed and fought madly against the steel cuffs binding her limbs, “You can’t!

Please, no! Let me go! I won’t say anything, I promise! I won’t tell anybody about the fraud!”

“No, you won’t,” Dawnelle was thoroughly enjoying Maxine’s horror, “Not anybody who’ll take any notice.”

“Gag her,” Andrew ordered and Maxine’s eyes bulged in terror as one of the Security Guards produced a roll of wide, black industrial tape and moved towards her.

“Stop!” she cried, “Please!” then she remembered Melissa.

“You won’t get away with this,” she said desperately, “I didn’t come here alone! My sister’s down in the car and she knows I came here. If you don’t let me go, she’ll go to the Police and you’ll all be arrested!”

Her last-ditch effort to avoid being gagged failed and as one Guard held her head still, the other lifted her hair out of the way and wrapped half a dozen turns of the adhesive tape right around her head, compressing her cheeks, sealing her lips and hiding the lower half of her face.

Maxine whined in futile protest, but could not speak at all and her terror grew as she learned their power over her.

Handcuffed at wrists and ankles and now gagged as well, she could do nothing to help herself and her mind reeled to the awful knowledge that she could not prevent them from putting her in a freight container and carrying out their plan.

Melissa was her only hope and she could only pray that her sister would call the Police in time to save her.

To her sheer, stark terror, Maxine heard Andrew Morrison give orders to the two Guards, “Her sister is waiting in the car park. Go down and tell her that her sister wants to talk to her up here. As soon as she’s safely inside the building, cuff her and gag her then come back up to fetch this one.”

The two men nodded and hurried out and Morrison turned to Maxine, “Bringing your sister here was an unexpected bonus for us. She was the only one who would have missed you and raised the alarm. We assumed you’d be alone and that we’d have to go and fetch her from your house. It gives us lots more time.”

Maxine whimpered in anguish, realising how carefully the plan had been laid.

Unknowingly, she had played right into their hands.

Melissa would have no reason to be suspicious and once she had been captured and tied up, there would be no one to rescue either of them.

They would both simply disappear!

Stunned by what had already happened, it had not occurred to Maxine to wonder where she and her sister were going to be sent or what was to be done with them when they reached their destination.

That oversight was remedied in the most terrifying way as Carlo Crespi suggested a way to pass the time gained by not having to search for Melissa.

“She is a pretty girl, isn’t she?” he murmured softly, “And as she’s going to become a slave on Mr Shimatsu’s island anyway, I would like to see more of her.”

Andrew and Dawnelle looked at him, then looked at Maxine and their lips curved into cruel smiles.

“Yes. Why not?” Andrew agreed and Dawnelle nodded, her eyes gleaming in anticipation.

The three partners rose from their seats and as Maxine saw the lustful expressions on their faces, she screamed into her gag and shook her head frantically.

As the redhead watched, the two men seized Maxine and lifted her writhing body onto the conference table, Carlo pinning her shoulders and Andrew her ankles, holding her face down and helpless.

Dawnelle raced to a cupboard and came back with a pair of sharp scissors and as Maxine screamed and fought vainly against the hands holding her, the tall redhead slit up the back of Maxine’s suit and blouse, the material falling away to reveal her pale flesh and the dark blue lace straps of her bra, suspender-belt and panties.

“Turn her over,” Dawnelle ordered and as the men complied, Maxine wept in shame as the redhead snipped through the front of her bra and cut the straps of her panties, sweeping the flimsy scraps of fabric aside to reveal Maxine’s bare breasts and sex.

Naked apart from her suspender belt, stockings and shoes, Maxine shuddered as Dawnelle and the two men stared down at her, their greedy eyes drinking in the soft curves of her displayed form.

“Mmm,” Andrew Morrison nodded appreciatively, “Lucky old Shimatsu. I wouldn’t mind having her as a slave myself.”

Maxine moaned in terrible despair as his words confirmed her fate.

As impossible as it seemed, they really did mean to transport her to the Far East, where she would be forced to become a white slave!

Dawnelle O’Keefe reached out and Maxine shrieked in futile denial as her defenceless breasts were captured and the redhead’s slim fingers caressed and stroked the twin half moons.

Maxine gasped as unwanted arousal coursed through her, but could not stop the instinctive responses of her body as the fingers rose to her tawny nipples, toying with the delicate buds until the crinkled flesh engorged and stiffened to stand erect and quivering to every touch.

Horribly ashamed of her own weakness, but quite unable to resist the insidious arousal, Maxine flushed a bright scarlet as her tormentor giggled with delight, then sneered, “Huh! A randy little bitch like you will be easy to enslave. You’re already gasping for it and I haven’t even begun, yet!”

“It looks as though that’s not the first time you’ve done that, Dawnelle,” Carlo Crespi observed casually.

The redhead glared at him and snapped, “That’s nothing to do with you. My sexuality and preferences are my own business, so keep your nose out of my affairs.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologised sarcastically, “Touched a nerve, have I? Didn’t mean to pry, Dawnelle, I was just impressed with your... ah... technique. It doesn’t bother me if you prefer women to men.”

Dawnelle reddened and opened her mouth to deliver a stinging retort, but Andrew cut in before she could begin, “I’m sure Carlo didn’t mean anything by it, Dawnelle,” he said smoothly, “Let’s not argue between ourselves. Not when we have such a delightful captive to amuse us and a second one on her way. Why don’t we take full advantage of our good fortune? I have an idea. The Despatch section uses strapping, doesn’t it, Carlo? Would you mind fetching some up?”

Carlo chuckled and let go of Maxine’s shoulders, then hurried out.

Andrew stood back, “No need to hold her any more,” he said to Dawnelle, “She’s not going anywhere,” and he lit a cigarette calmly.

On the Conference table, Maxine sobbed bitterly as she tried to come to terms with the shocking callousness of what had been done to her and the terrors which still lay ahead.

With a convulsive wriggle, she managed to roll over, but her effort to hide her nakedness came to nothing as Dawnelle picked up the scissors and proceeded to slice the ragged remains of Maxine’s once-smart suit from her body, finally stripping the handcuffed blonde down to suspender belt, stockings and shoes and chuckling, “I’ll leave her those. She’s more naked with them.”

It was true and Maxine trembled wildly, knowing that the little she still wore only emphasised her nudity and the picture of helpless eroticism she presented.

There was no doubt in her mind that her captors were going to take her and her eyes filled with hopeless tears, because there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

Even more frightening, was the thought that her torment was only beginning and that, once delivered to Shimatsu’s island, escape would be impossible.

As a slave, she would be completely at the mercy of total strangers and she had no illusions about what would happen.

Maxine knew she was pretty and was well aware of the desirability of her curvaceous body.

Men found her attractive and she had always considered that to be a bonus...

Until she had been bound and gagged and stripped, her body suddenly the plaything of men-and a woman-who saw her simply as a slave to be used for their pleasure in any way they desired!

Appalled by her thoughts, Maxine fought her bondage with every atom of her strength, her muscles cording beneath her sleek skin as she struggled to escape the awful fate looming over her, her body writhing and twisting in a grim battle she feared she could not win.

The return of Carlo underlined her utter defeat and she slumped trembling in her bonds as she was forced to accept her helplessness.

The strapping Carlo brought was made of plastic, two inches wide and immensely strong, usually used to band and secure crates for transport, but, as Andrew had calculated, it could be used for other purposes...

Against the strength of the two men, Maxine knew that resistance was useless and lay still, conserving her energy as strapping encircled each of her ankles, knees, wrists and elbows, the ingenious one-way plastic buckles allowing the straps to be drawn taut on her flesh, but preventing the straps from loosening.

On her induction tour of the Company, she had seen the strapping being used and knew, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, that it could not be released and would have to be cut from her when she was set free.

If she was set free...

Turned onto her back and slid to one end of the conference table, she gulped as her legs were pulled apart and her left knee and ankle strapped to the heavy table leg.

The instant her right ankle cuff was released, she kicked out viciously with her right leg, tearing it loose from the men’s grip and feeling her shoe connect solidly.

Andrew reeled back, clutching his stomach where Maxine’s shoe had landed, but her pleasure at fighting back was short-lived, Carlo rushing forward to seize her flailing leg and yank it cruelly to her right, opening her wide and holding her as Dawnelle attached the strapping to secure her in a merciless spread-eagle.

Flat on her back and unable to see down past her own naked breasts, Maxine trembled in fear as she realised that her assault on Andrew, though deeply satisfying, had achieved nothing, except angering her captors.

She was even more helplessly bound and had given them a reason to punish her!

Too late, she wondered whether it might have been better to give in peacefully, but what was done was done and she had no choice but to put up with any consequences.

Andrew straightened slowly, rubbing his stomach and he scowled malevolently at the spread-eagled blonde, “Right,” he grated slowly, “So you want to play, do you?” and he grabbed a strap,

“Sit the bitch up,” he ordered, “I’ll teach her not to kick.”

As Dawnelle and Carlo raised Maxine’s torso, he reached behind her and threaded another strap through the straps already encircling her elbows.

Then, with a powerful pull, drew the strap taut.

Maxine hissed through her nose, shoulders straining back as her elbows were forced together until they met at the middle of her back, her breasts thrust forward lewdly by the remorseless tension and her arms a single, quivering column.

Maxine’s distress was clearly evident, but Andrew was in no mood for sympathy, “Lay her down,”

he said, “I wasn’t going to tie her that tightly, but it’s her own damn fault.”

“Quite right,” Dawnelle agreed forcefully, “Slaves have to learn to obey. If I had my whip with me, I’d give her a real lesson!”

Carlo and Andrew stared at the tall redhead in amazement and Dawnelle gave a weak smile as she realised what she had said.

“Oh,” her cheeks burned with embarrassment, “Well, anyway,” she tried to cover her confusion with a facade of toughness, “Yes, I do have a whip and yes, I do punish a slave if she steps out of line. I’m not ashamed of it. Slaves need to be reminded of their duties sometimes.”

Her eyes glittered as if to challenge the two men to say anything and Carlo chuckled softly.

“I see. That explains a lot of things. I agree with you, Dawnelle. And do you have a slave, at present?”

“No, not at the moment. And it’s none of your business.”

Carlo grinned, “You seem to know a lot about slaves and whips, Dawnelle. Ever been on the receiving end yourself? Maybe I could help you out there, if you enjoy that sort of thing...”

Dawnelle stared at him contemptuously, “Not if you were the last man on earth,” she told him icily, and for a couple of seconds there was complete silence in the room as the two glared at each other.

“Uh, well, we don’t have a whip,” Andrew said. “So we will just have to manage, won’t we?” and he moved quickly to stand between Maxine’s gaping thighs, “As she kicked me, Carlo, you won’t mind if I go first, will you?”

Carlo broke his staring match with Dawnelle, “Please yourself,” he said shortly, “I can wait.”

Maxine shook her head, pleading mutely for mercy, but was ignored and her body gave huge jerks as Andrew’s fingers explored the parted folds of her labia and slid into her sex to send uncontrollable stimulation crashing through her belly as he forced her to respond to his touch.

Gasping and moaning, Maxine’s eyes bulged with anguish, as her belly grew slippery with her juices despite everything she could do to resist the sexual heat he imposed upon her.

Fully aroused himself, he unzipped his trousers and Maxine screamed in a mixture of horror and enforced desire as his rigid shaft thrust deep into her belly, penetrating her with brutal ruthlessness.

His hands gripped her hips and he lunged massively, grinding his pelvis against her, relishing her wide-eyed terror as he took her with no thought or consideration of her wishes or pleasure, “Bitch!”

he snarled, “You won’t kick me again, will you, eh?” And he laughed aloud as she shuddered to the jolting impacts of his masculine power, her tightly bound body able only to take whatever he gave.

His thrusts grew faster and harder and Maxine wailed in surrender as Dawnelle’s fingers tugged and rolled her erect nipples, the added stimulation triggering Maxine’s climax.

Her spine arched, pressing her breasts upwards and deeper into the redhead’s grasp, while her belly juddered and pulsed to the release of explosive gouts of love juices that swamped her in liquid pleasure and she screamed in despairing ecstasy into her gag as blistering heat raged through her body.

Feeling her climax around and over his embedded shaft, Andrew gave a deep groan and his seed jetted in torrents into Maxine’s pounding belly, his release heightening and increasing her sexual passion as she surrendered to his total domination of her body.

Sated, he slid from her even as her orgasm shook her belly with spasms of undiminished power and her eyes widened with the knowledge of her own submission as she pulsed and quivered before his cruel gaze, unable to control the fury of her need or the shameful intensity of the lust still burning brightly in her body and which her orgasm had only served to intensify.

For the first time in her life, Maxine’s cool reserve had deserted her and she was helpless before the savagery of her own unmasked passions, unable to control, or even understand, the sexual frenzy which had, and was still, engulfing her!

She whimpered in horror, frightened of herself, frightened of her captors... but even more frightened of what her passion revealed about her.

If she had been made to surrender so deeply, so quickly and so helplessly, what might that lead to in her future?

When, as a slave, she would be forced to surrender again and again?

To men who might be even more ruthless, even more cruel?

In response to her terrifying vision of the future, Maxine’s belly spewed forth a further gush of heated love juices and she squealed in desperation, trying to deny to herself the awful, previously unsuspected possibility that she actually liked, perhaps even needed, to be dominated and subjugated!

Before she could calm her whirling brain, Carlo took Andrew’s place and a second rampant erection plunged into the boiling cauldron of her belly, driving out all reason in a tidal wave of crazed arousal and submission as Maxine was taken again and her first orgasm blended into the next-and then the next-as her lusts and needs soared out of control and she writhed and screamed and shuddered as her body surrendered totally to its enforced submission.

Carlo, like Andrew before him, used her fully and as his hips pumped to send his spend deep into her belly, Maxine locked rigid, her whole body vibrating as her love juices swirled down and she climaxed yet again, before collapsing into a limp, shaking huddle as her release tore through her.

Devastated and appalled at her own responses, she wept and sobbed as the three dominants moved to the other end of the table and relaxed in their seats, laughing and chuckling as they discussed her submissions. And it was only as Andrew looked at his watch and wondered aloud what was keeping the Security Guards, that Maxine remembered her sister.

Surely there had been enough time for the men to capture Melissa if she had still been in Maxine’s car?

Could it be that Melissa had already left before the men arrived, or had, somehow, managed to escape their clutches?

A wild thrill of hope filled Maxine’s brain.

With Melissa free, there was a chance.

Please, Maxine prayed silently, please let Melissa have escaped and be fetching the Police!

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