It was a Wednesday morning and Adam had just entered the staffroom for a well-deserved cup of coffee - training teenage girls might be fun but instilling the principles of trigonometry into 15-year-olds was always hard work - when Anne came in with a letter in her hand and a troubled look on her face.
"I'm afraid we've got a problem, troops," she said without formality. "Our little secret is out."
There was instant pandemonium and cries of, "Oh, no," "How?" and "Oh, shit," (from Adam).
"I knew it had to happen one day," said Helen.
"What exactly is the problem?" said Barbara.
"I've a letter here from Mrs Ashby," said Anne, waving it. "It would appear that young Coral has let something slip. I'll just read it, it'll be simpler.
Dear Ms Henderson,
I have never been happy about Coral attending Greenwood Academy. I have never believed that it was an appropriate school for my daughter. However my husband was insistent and so I put my fears aside.
Now I find that, not only were my fears justified, but worse than I could have imagined even in my worst nightmares. As parents we entrust our children to your care and protection. To discover that, instead of receiving this, the children are subjected to regular and systematic physical and sexual abuse is almost too much even to contemplate. That such disgusting practices should happen at all is bad enough but to find that they are so endemic as to be regarded as part of the school curriculum supposes a deliberate and malicious policy emanating from the highest authority - namely yourself.
According I shall be arriving at the school on Saturday when I will expect a full and comprehensive explanation. Unless I hear a satisfactory account of all the accusations I have heard, you may rest assured that I will be taking the matter to higher authorities.
Yours etc.
Gail Ashby
There was a moment's silence when she finished and then everybody started talking at once. Anne stood and let the noise wash over her and Adam thought that he had never seen her look so tired and dejected, so defeated almost. His heart went out to her and he shut his mouth and started his brain.
"Be quiet," he bellowed. Conversations ceased in mid-sentence and they all looked at him in utter astonishment. "Look," he continued in a more reasonable voice, "we're not going to get anywhere rushing around like Henny-Penny crying that the sky has fallen down."
"You're right, Adam," said Barbara. "Sorry, Anne. The last thing you need right now is us all in a fluster. So, what do we do?"
"Can you read the letter again, please?" said Jacqueline. Anne did so and Jacqueline nodded. "She doesn't actually say what she's found out. It's just a lot of emotive words."
"What sort of person is Mrs Ashby?" asked Marcia. "I don't remember ever meeting her."
"It's normally her husband, Roger, who attends school functions," said Anne. "I've met her perhaps twice. She struck me as being a bit up-tight - you know, very correct. An attractive woman as I recall but straight-laced, if you know what I mean."
"Can I make a suggestion?" Adam chipped in. "This has come as a bit of a bombshell. I think we need some time to step back and think about it."
There was a chorus of approval.
"Okay," said Anne. "Let's think it over and come to my apartment at five for a council of war."
It was a very sober and thoughtful staff that made their way back to their classrooms.
All that day he mulled it over in his mind. Jacqueline was right, he concluded, Mrs Ashby hadn't any specific accusations. But she did talk about physical and sexual abuse so the assumption must be that she knew something specific. But how much? Anne had said that she was straight-laced. That probably meant Mrs Ashby would have a fairly conservative attitude to sex. So she could regard any 'abnormal' activity as abuse - something as simple smacking or even sex education for example. It didn't have to mean the sort of practices they actually indulged in. In the back of his mind a rather daring and desperate plan was beginning to form.
A very subdued group convened in Anne's apartment. Conversation was low and sparse as Anne played hostess.
"Right," she said as everybody settled down., "I've been thinking about this all day and I'll start by going over what we know - which isn't a lot.
"Coral has let something slip to her mother. How much we don't know but enough to upset her mother a great deal. Mrs Ashby is arriving on Saturday - I notice she isn't giving me much choice - and is threatening to take things further. Whether this means the Board of Governors, the police, the press, or whatever, again we don't know."
"We don't really know very much," said Barbara. "Makes planning deuced difficult."
"I think we should assume the worst and plan for that," said Marcia.
"And the worst would be…?" said Barbara.
"That Coral has told her mother everything."
"You mean Coral has told her mother about the Society?" gasped Jacqueline.
"That would be the worst case, yes," said Marcia.
"Even if she hasn't told her about the Society, the rest of it's pretty bad," said Barbara.
"It will be very difficult to defend in any case," said Anne.
"You could always deny it," said Jacqueline. "You know, brass it out. Tell her that Coral is a little liar."
Anne shook her head. "I don't think that would work. Coral's not a liar. She doesn't have a history of telling fibs. And, besides, Mrs Ashby doesn't approve of Coral being here in the first place. If it came down to my word against Coral's I'm fairly certain she'd support Coral. No, we have to do something that will put her off the scent."
The room fell silent as they all racked their brains.
"Can I come at this at a bit of a tangent for the moment?" asked Adam.
"Certainly. What's on your mind?" said Anne.
"I'm not completely sure, yet. Tell me about the Ashbys. What are they like? What's their background?" Anne looked at him in some surprise. "I'm following a hunch," he smiled.
"Okay. Come into the other room and we'll get Coral's file up on the computer."
"Give me a few minutes to look through this," he said. "Is there anything else?"
"No, I don't think so."
He looked carefully through the details then sat back, steepling his hands and tapping the tips of his fingers together as his mind raced. With a grunt, he returned to the other room where Marcia and Jacqueline were conducting a low-voiced argument. Anne stood at the window, staring out at nothing and the rest sat silently. It was obvious no acceptable plan had been formulated in his absence.
"Find what you're looking for?" said Anne, turning back from the window.
"Some. Not really enough but it'll have to do. Okay, I'm going to propose something a bit radical. Please hear me out before you comment. I'm sure you'll like it." He attempted a confident grin but was sure it more resembled a death rictus. He cleared his throat nervously. He wasn't at all confident that his plan - if that wasn't to formal a word for it - was acceptable or even workable.
"First, some background. Coral is here at the insistence of her father. He enrolled her: he pays the fees: he comes to school functions. Coral's mother doesn't approve and takes no interest in the school. Now, a question; does Coral's mother take no interest in just the school or does she not particularly care about Coral herself?"
"You mean she doesn't care about Coral at all?" said Jacqueline. "I'd have thought the letter would have disproved that. It sounds like a caring mum to me."
"No necessarily. She might not be particularly fond of Coral but that doesn't mean she wouldn't pretend to be. I can think of a number of reasons why she might write like that."
"I think I can settle this," said Evaline, who had been quiet up to now, dabbing her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. "Coral talks a lot about her mother. I think they're fairly close."
"Thank you," Adam smiled. "Okay, so it's the school that Mrs Ashby doesn't like. Why is that? Coral is a willing pupil, both academically and sexually. She has no problems with regular classes and shows a natural aptitude and enthusiasm for things sexual. Could it be that her mother disapproves of us because she knows what her daughter is like and fears that Coral's natural sexuality will not be controlled here? She knows this and fears it because she sees herself in Coral, only she's repressed her natural instincts? That would explain why she's up-tight. The more so as her husband is a randy old goat and anything he insists on should be treated with suspicion? So when she finds out her suspicions are true, she flies off the handle."
He paused dramatically. The faces before him were sceptical, uncomprehending or hostile.
"That's an interesting theory, Adam, but I don't see how it helps us," said Anne.
"It's a lot of balderdash," said Helen with vehemence.
"I agree with Anne," said Jacqueline. "It at least explains the situation but I can't see what good it is."
"Go on, Adam," said Barbara, thoughtfully, "I assume this is leading somewhere?"
"Sort of. What I'm thinking of is that, instead of defending ourselves, which we can't do, we attack. We show her what we really do here."
"You mean the training rooms and the Club Room?" Marcia was flabbergasted.
"You cannot be serious," said Jacqueline. "One look and she'll be straight off to the police. We won't see her for dust."
"Oh, I'm not proposing to give her any choice," said Adam.
Barbara began to chuckle. "Adam, you're an evil bastard, don't you know."
"I don't understand," said Anne.
"What Adam's proposing is that once Mrs Ashby's here, we lock the doors and give her the full treatment. Am I right?"
"Well, yes," said Adam sheepishly. "I was thinking along the lines of getting her into the Club Room and putting on a show - with her as the main attraction."
Anne was horrified. "But… She's a parent… A hostile parent… You can't…"
"And just what do you think you'll achieve, other than bringing total disaster down on us? What do you imagine Mrs Ashby's going to do when you let her go - or were you planning on keeping her locked up forever?" sneered Helen.
"I don't know what will happen but I know what I hope will happen," replied Adam mildly. "I think Mrs Ashby is sexually repressed - in fact I'm banking on it. I think she sees in Coral what she sees in herself - and it scares her. So she wants to keep Coral away from sex. The things we do here are frightening to her because, deep inside, she wants to do them, too. But she's so repressed she just explodes into irrational anger. Her letter seems to me to be irrational - it's full of emotion and threats. It's almost incoherent. I don't believe we'll ever explain anything to her, even if it was explainable. She's not rational. She wants to hit out. So I think the only thing we can do is a bit of shock therapy. Force her to confront her real self."
"It's a hell of a risk," said Barbara.
"I know," he sighed. "But I can't think of any other plan that will do anything. If she knows the truth we either admit it or deny it. Anne's already said what she thinks will happen if we deny it - so we have to admit it. 'Yes, Mrs Ashby, your daughter is currently engaged in a course of study that involves sex with adult men, lesbian sex, whippings, beatings and other forms of sexual torture'. She can't accept that. She'll be straight off to the nearest constabulary the moment she leaves. So what alternative have we?"
Anne sighed deeply. "Adam, I can't say I like your plan. It goes against the grain to involve parents other than voluntarily. And it's based on some fairly flimsy evidence and a whole lot of theorising. But, as you say, we really have no alternatives. We're damned if we do and we're damned if we don't, sort of thing."
"Well I think you're entirely mad, all of you, to even entertain an insane scheme like this," said Helen indignantly.
"I sort of agree with Helen," said Evaline. "I don't think you're mad but I don't like it."
"If we're taking sides," said Barbara, "I'm with Adam."
"What do you think, Jack?" said Anne.
"I don't know. It's horrible. It's so risky. I can't even contemplate what will happen if Adam's wrong." She shuddered. "But… there's a sort of daft logic about it that just might work."
"I disagree, Jacqueline," said Marcia. "I can contemplate what will happen if it goes wrong and I can't face the abyss that I see. I vote against."
"Well, we seem to have come to a vote even though it wasn't asked for," said Anne. "I make it four for and three against. But I don't want it decided on the basis of a majority vote. I think we should sleep on it. But I'll pose one question for you. If we don't go with Adam's plan, what do we do?"
And on that sobering thought, they departed.
"What sort of show did you have in mind?" Barbara asked Adam.
He shrugged. "I don't know. I was hoping you might have some ideas."
"I'll think about it," she said with a lecherous smile.
To say that the school was tense over the next two days would be a slight understatement. Adam's plan had been reluctantly agreed to. Those, like Helen, who were violently opposed at least agreed not to interfere. The staff were all on a knife edge and their tension communicated itself to the pupils. Nobody could concentrate. The girls were fractious and Adam found himself snapping at them unnecessarily - all his colleagues said the same. The final straw came when an argument between Miranda and Zoë turned into a cat-fight. They were reprimanded at the time and scheduled for a later punishment session - even Anne could not summon the conviction to punish them there and then.
Coral was taken aside and, after some prompting, broke down and confessed that she had let something slip to her mother during an argument. Her mother had then pressured her into revealing a lot more than she had intended. She was adamant, however, that she had not told her mother any details; she had only described things in general terms. Unfortunately, she had also mentioned the Secret Society. All this was teased out of her amid floods of tears, apologies and self-recrimination. She was dismissed with stern warnings to keep her mouth firmly shut. It was as bad as they feared.
After some consultation between Adam and Barbara, mostly dealing with what approach Adam was going to take with Mrs Ashby and how he was going to induce her to go to the Club room, Barbara disappeared. The whole school knew that something was up and rumours flew like wasps round a jam jar.
Saturday came at last. No-one had slept well the previous night. Adam had paced his room for a good number of hours alternatively rehearsing various scenarios and cursing himself for suggesting such a hare-brained scheme. Even Anne, normally impeccably groomed and dressed looked somewhat dishevelled. The girls had been informed that a very important person was arriving on a mission of some gravity. A few had been recruited as runners to watch out for the arrival and a few, sworn to complete secrecy, had been recruited by Barbara. The rest were confined to their rooms and told, in no uncertain terms, exactly what the consequences would be if they disobeyed.
Mrs Ashby had not indicated when she would arrive but they guessed it would be in the afternoon. Indeed it was well into the afternoon when a strange car swept into the grounds and stopped at the front door. A woman emerged, pausing to look round curiously for a while before ascending the steps. The girl who had been assigned to watch the front gate had come flying down the corridor immediately screaming, "She's here! She's here!".
It had been agreed that Evaline should greet the visitor on the grounds that she was the least likely to offend and her nerves could be attributed to her normal, rather scatterbrained, personality. She opened the door with distinctly trembling hands.
"I am Mrs Ashby. I'm here to see Ms Henderson."
"Yes, indeed." Evaline managed not to squeak. "Come this way."
Instead of leading her to Anne's office, however, she led Mrs Ashby to another office where Adam was ensconced. He was seated behind a desk, pretending to do some paperwork and rubbing his sweaty hands on his trousers.
"Mrs Ashby," announced Evaline with some relief as she ushered the lady into the office and quickly closed the door.
"Ah, Mrs Ashby, do come in," said Adam attempting a confident smile as he rose to greet her. "Please sit down."
He had to admit that Mrs Ashby was not what he expected. For a start she looked younger, in her mid to late thirties, he guessed. She was dressed in a cream suit with a skirt that hugged her hips and a jacket that fastened with a single gold button just above the waist. Underneath she wore a peach silk blouse, open at the neck to reveal a gold chain. Matching shoes, with heels, and handbag completed her outfit. The cream-and-peach colour scheme set off her tanned skin and the reddish highlights in her short hair. To Adam, the outfit sent mixed messages. On the one hand the formal suit was meant to convey a business-like impression, but the deep V of the jacket left no doubt that Mrs Ashby had an exceedingly good figure. All in all she was a very striking woman.
"Where is Ms Henderson?" she demanded as she sat.
"I'm terribly sorry. I'm afraid Ms Henderson has been delayed by a slight emergency. I'm sure she won't be long. In the meantime, can I be of any assistance."
"I wish to see Ms Henderson." Striking though she was, her tone was frosty and her face stern. It was clear, however, that she was holding herself in check with difficulty. She sat with her knees pressed together and clutched her handbag tightly, her knuckles white where they gripped the handles.
"Ms Henderson asked me to convey her deepest apologies that she couldn't greet you personally." He moved behind the desk and rested his knuckles on the polished surface. "I understand you have some concerns about Coral."
"No. I have no concerns about Coral - other than she is here in this place."
"You don't approve of her being at Greenwood?" He raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I never have. And she will not be here for much longer."
"Oh? And what is it about our school that you disapprove of?"
She started to speak and then stopped. He sensed that she didn't want to tell him either because he was a man or because she didn't want to make her accusations publicly. He suspected the former reason.
"I can assure you that the girls receive a first-class education at Greenwood," he continued smoothly, trying to prod her into responding.
"That's a matter of opinion," she snapped.
"Our exam record speaks for itself."
"I'm not talking about exams."
"Our girls leave here socially adept and well-rounded individuals."
"Socially adept? Well rounded?" she exploded. "I don't know how you have the nerve to stand there and say that."
He perched on the corner of the desk and smiled. "I would say it's a very apt description. Our aim is to equip them with all the skills they'll need in life."
"And I suppose child abuse achieves that."
"Excuse me?" he pretended to be shocked but inwardly he was elated. He had to get her to lose control. "We do not abuse children here."
"Beating them is not abuse? Forcing them to indulge in disgusting sexual practices is not abuse? Making them indulge in depraved activities including… lesbianism?" She had great difficulty with the last word.
He sat abruptly, feigning shock. "These are very serious accusations Mrs Ashby. I hope you have some evidence."
"Indeed I have," she smirked, sensing she had the upper hand. "My daughter has told me everything about your evil and immoral establishment."
He found a handkerchief and mopped his brow. "I'm shocked, Mrs Ashby."
"Do you deny it?"
"Deny what? What exactly is it that you think goes on here?"
She was triumphant. "I know all about your extra curriculum where you force the children - yes, children, for that is what they are - in your care to learn about, and take part in, disgusting and unnatural sexual deviations. I know that your customary punishment for misbehaviour is to beat the girls until they are unable to sit down. Oh, and I know all about your after school activities - your little private club where you force innocent girls to take part in the devil's rituals."
"Oh, my God."
"Yes, and I can assure you that I am not going to let the matter rest. This is England and there are laws about such things."
This was what he had been waiting for. He stood and began to pace up and down.
"You intend to go to the police?"
"I do, indeed. You may depend on it."
"You are intent on this?"
"I'll have this place closed within a week and all you filthy perverts locked up in jail where you belong."
"And nothing will change your mind?"
"Nothing."
"That's a great pity."
"I won't waste my pity on you, Mr Hazel."
"I meant it's a pity you won't reconsider." He spread his hands and shrugged. "It would be a great inconvenience to everybody if outsiders were involved."
"Under the pretence of education, you defile the children in your care." Her voice was becoming shrill. "Abuse them for your own personal lusts. And you expect me to ignore it, pretend it doesn't exist?"
He sighed. "Whatever you may know, or believe you know, I cannot permit you to make your accusations public."
"Permit me? I'm afraid you do not understand the position, Mr Hazel."
"I'm afraid you do not understand the position Mrs Ashby. Or should I say, you do not understand your position." His voice was suddenly hard.
"I don't understand what you mean."
He crossed to the door, striving to keep his voice calm and level. "You have come here, today, making some very damaging accusations. If you were to broadcast these, as you have threatened to do, you would hurt a lot of people - Ms Henderson, myself and the other teachers here, Coral and all the other girls who are receiving a first-class education here. The parents of these girls - some of whom have important positions in society." He quietly turned the key in the lock and pocketed the key. "So I'm afraid you will not be permitted to leave until I have your solemn assurance that you will keep your sordid accusations to yourself."
"Not permitted!" spluttered Mrs Ashby. "How dare you! I shall leave immediately and I can assure you, young man, that the disgusting goings-on in this school will cease. I am going straight to the police."
She pushed past him and tried to open the door.
"Open the door this instant or it will be the worse for you!" she demanded. Adam had to admit that, in her state of high emotion, she was a very desirable woman.
He shook his head and smiled. "I must ask you to reconsider. Think of the effect it would have - and your own daughter would be involved. It could be very messy."
"My daughter has nothing to do with these filthy activities. She has been coerced."
"I can assure you, Mrs Ashby, that, far from being coerced, your daughter is an active participant."
"You must have forced her. She would never do such things voluntarily."
"On the contrary. Coral has always been a very willing pupil. I could even say enthusiastic. She takes an active part in all the 'disgusting practices', as you describe them."
She looked aghast. "How dare you! You filthy pervert!" She took a step towards him and raised her hand to strike him across the face. He gripped her wrist and they stood, face to face. She was fit and strong but he was stronger and, after an interminable moment, he felt her arm relax.
"Now," he said calmly, looking her straight in the eye. "I suggest you take your clothes off. You've been a very naughty girl and need to be punished."
Mrs Ashby's jaw dropped with astonishment then her eyes narrowed as she struggled to free herself from his grasp.
"Tut, tut," he said sternly. "The more you fight the worse it will be for you."
He moved adroitly, pulling her arm down, round and up her back. This was the bit he had been dreading. All now depended on dexterity and luck. He pulled the handcuffs form his pocket and clipped one end to her captive wrist. Still holding on to it, he managed to capture her other arm, pull it round and clip the other side of the handcuffs to the wrist. Despite being pinioned she kept up a constant struggle, hacking at his shins and trying to stamp on his toes with her stiletto heels. He would have quite a few bruises later.
He dragged her to a straight-backed chair and forced her down, arms over the back. He knelt and looped the piece of rope he'd tied to the chair earlier round the handcuffs and tied it tight. She was now securely attached to the chair and he felt he could relax a little.
"You really are very disobedient."
She turned a face, distorted with hate, towards him. "Let me go, you filthy, fucking pervert! I'll get you for this!" she spat.
"I don't think so," he said, as confidently as he could.
He took length of cloth and swiftly dropped it over her eyes tying it tightly behind her head.
"What the fuck…?" she spluttered. He was amused how her superior language had deserted her. "What are you doing?"
The next bit was tricky and he paused for a moment, planning his moves. He took a hobble - two padded cuffs with a short length of chain between - and crouched down on one side of the chair. Above him, she was twisting and turning in a futile attempt to get free. Waiting for his moment, he grabbed the nearest ankle and clipped one cuff round it. Immediately she kicked out but he held onto the other end of the chain and she only succeeded in tipping the chair dangerously. Seeing she was off balance, he grabbed her other ankle and attached the other cuff.
The final move was the leather collar with the 4-foot chain which he managed to attach round her neck without incident. It was almost as if she was in shock. And well she might. Half an hour ago she was in command, ready to bring this establishment - she couldn't bring herself to call it a school - crashing to the ground and expose all the depraved people who ran it for the immoral perverts they really were. And now she was blindfolded, unable to move and completely at their mercy.
"Okay," he said. "You had better listen to me - and listen carefully. We are going to take a little walk. As you are helpless you are going to have to let me guide you. If you don't cooperate and insist on fighting and struggling, I'll have to immobilise you completely and carry you. Is that clear?"
"Where are you taking me?" Some of the defiance had gone from her voice.
"It doesn't matter. Will you walk or be carried?"
"But what are you going to do with me?"
"All I'll say is that you will not be killed, maimed, tortured or seriously injured. I give you my word, if that's of any value."
"But this is kidnapping!" Her anger was beginning to return.
"I suppose you could call it that. But that's irrelevant. Will you walk or shall I truss you up like a sack of coal?"
"I… I'll walk. Is it far?
"No. You must do exactly as I say. No questions." He undid the rope from the handcuffs. "Stand up."
She struggled to rise but was unable to get any leverage. He lifted her under her armpits and helped her to stand.
"Turn right and take two steps forward," he commanded, taking the free end of the collar chain. Meekly she did as she was bid but the short chain between her ankles fooled her and she stumbled. Instantly he was at her side, steadying her.
"Take small steps. Now turn right again and walk forwards until I tell you to stop."
By this method he navigated her out of the office, along the corridor and out of the door to the courtyard. She did not wonder where he was taking her - or why. Walking blind, bound and shackled was taking all her concentration.
Adam watched her intently, ready to steady her should she stumble. He wanted her to have confidence in him - to feel that he really meant her no harm. In all honesty, he was also partly hypnotised by the way her high heels and hobble chain made her buttocks roll beneath the tight skirt. He felt a slight stirring in his groin at the prospect of becoming more closely acquainted with them. Now that he had achieved the first objective, he was starting to look forward to the next stage. He was also feeling much more confident that his theory was right. He hoped Barbara had managed to get everything set up.
They made their way slowly to the Club Room - Adam assisting his captive wherever the going got rough. He guided her carefully up the stairs and into the Club Room. Yes, the set up looked exactly right! He heard a stifled gasp from somewhere in the shadows as he led his captive across the room. Before she was completely aware that the journey had ended, he had removed the handcuffs and fastened her wrists to steel rings suspended just above her head.
He started to unfasten her jacket, being careful not to linger too long at her breasts.
"Wha… What are you doing?" she gasped.
"Taking off your clothes," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Why?"
"Because you're going to be disciplined."
"Are you… are you going to… to rape me?"
"Certainly not," he said indignantly. "I have never taken a woman by force in my life."
"But …"
He sighed theatrically. "I've already explained. You have been very wicked. You've marched into our school and upset lots of people with your nasty words. And you've threatened to make your allegations public, which would upset everybody. You must be made to see how wrong you are."
As he had been speaking, he had unfastened her jacket and blouse which he had pulled free from her skirt. He now had a problem - how to get them off. He unfastened one of her arms and pulled it free of her clothes. She immediately tried to pull away but he gripped her arm tightly.
"You're hurting me."
"Well, don't try and fight me."
He attached her wrist to the ring again and repeated the process with the other arm. This time she put up only a token resistance. He found the zip of her skirt and pulled it down. He unclipped the waist and tugged it down over her hips. It slithered to the floor and he made her step out of it.
She was wearing a bra, panties and suspenders of peach-coloured satin. Now freed from the formal jacket, it was clear that she had an uncommonly good figure. Her breasts strained at the silky material of her bra, the extremely large, dark areoles clearly visible beneath the semi-translucent material. And her nipples! He had never seen such large and prominent nipples.
He started with the suspenders, unclipping them. Surprisingly, she let him. Her thighs were sleekly muscled, the skin tanned. He wanted to caress them, kiss them. His hands were trembling and he was sweating profusely. He was grateful she could not see him now, the bold kidnapper. He removed the suspenders and stepped back, mopping his brow. Moving behind her, he unclipped her bra. Again he had a problem but he had run out of patience. Murmuring, "I'm sorry, I'll have to ruin your pretty underwear," he cut the straps and pulled the garment free letting the large breasts swing free. Her areoles and nipples were, indeed, magnificent - a dark, ruddy brown contrasting with the creamy texture of her skin, the nipples standing proud like bottle tops. He instantly wanted to suck on them and bite them.
Finally he pulled the waistband of her panties, slit them down each leg and pulled them away. They reeked of woman - aroused woman. Strangely, the heady aroma served to calm him and he stepped back with a small smile on his lips.
"Is the captive ready," came Barbara's voice from behind him, right on cue.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Remove her blindfold." He untied the knot and whisked the cloth away.
For a second, their captive stood blinking as her eyes became accustomed to the light. Then she caught sight of Barbara and her jaw dropped. It was hardly surprising for Barbara, illuminated in a pool of light, looked every inch the dominatrix. She was wearing black latex boots with 5-inch stiletto heels that clung to her legs like a second skin and ended a mere inch from her crotch, a black latex thong that barely hid her vagina and an exotic gold and black eye mask that rose in peaks and points above her head. She had painted lips and nipples scarlet. She stood with her legs apart, one hip thrust forward, flicking a many-stranded whip.
"Oh, shit." It was little more than a whisper. "So it's all true."
"Isn't she gorgeous?" he murmured and stepped back into the shadows. It was Barbara's show now.
Barbara sauntered - no, swaggered - towards her, stopped, and looked her up and down with an expression of complete disdain. The captive dropped her gaze, blushing furiously. Barbara tilted up her chin with the handle of her whip.
"What is your name?"
"G.. G… Gail. Gail Ashby."
Barbara ran the whip handle down the valley between Gail's breasts and flicked one of the nipples. Gail jumped and the nipple suddenly popped. She did not see Barbara's smile of satisfaction.
"Gail. A pretty name for a pretty lady. You will address me as 'Mistress'."
Barbara sauntered round the back.
"Do you live up to your name?"
"What do you mean?"
The whip flashed out against Gail's bottom. She squealed and lunged forwards.
"You will address me as 'Mistress'. Now answer my question."
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, M.. M.. Mistress."
"Better. You are learning. Perhaps there is hope for you yet. Your name is Gail - images of strong winds and storms. Are you a stormy person?"
"No, I hate storms." The whip flicked again. "Oww! Mistress."
"You fail to take my meaning - but never mind. Do you know why you are here?"
"Only that I've been kidnapped. M.. M.. Mistress."
"Did Mr Hazel not explain to you?"
"He kept talking about punishment and discipline, Mistress."
"But you did not believe him."
"I didn't understand him." Two quick flicks of the whip this time made Gail squeal with pain and thrust her pelvis forward.
"There will be one more every time you forget."
"I'm sorry. Sorry, Mistress. I won't forget." There was a note of real terror in her voice.
Barbara moved round to face her again. "You have made things very difficult for us. Since you revealed you knew something of our real purpose here, our lives have been very difficult. We were in despair. Ruin and ridicule faced us. We did not know what to do. But Mr Hazel persuaded us that we should SHOW you. That if we were able to reveal your true nature to yourself, you would understand and leave us in peace." Her voice became very stern. "I confess I still have grave doubts and would prefer to take more drastic measures. But I have put my doubts aside and we will try it this way.
"You are here to learn. To learn discipline. And to learn the great truth that we try to teach here - that in pain there is pleasure and in pleasure there is pain."
As she had been speaking, Barbara had been half stroking, half flicking the strands of the whip sensuously across Gail's breasts. At each stroke, Gail let out a shuddering breath. Her nipples were rock hard, standing out like thumb tips.
Barbara reversed the whip and drew the handle slowly up the inside of Gail's thighs. Gail moved to close her thighs but stopped at a sharp word from Barbara. The rough leather caressed her sensitive skin, moving closer and closer to her exposed vulva and finally touched the moist, swollen lips. With a slight twisting motion, Barbara eased the whip handle between them and pressed it against Gail's clitoris. Gail uttered a low, keening cry, her body convulsed and she sagged in her bonds. She had had an orgasm.
"Oh, yes," gloated Barbara. "You like this don't you?" Gail only moaned. Barbara jerked the whip upwards, pressing it cruelly against Gail's clitoris. "Answer me, Gail!"
"Yesss… Yes, I like it. Mistress." Gail's voice was barely audible.
"You like the feeling of helplessness, don't you? You know I am going to cause you pain. You know it and you can do nothing about it. You are at my mercy. I can cause you much pain - or a little pain. I can give you much pleasure - or none. And you don't know which. Pain or pleasure? Which will it be? Does it matter? For in the end they are one and the same."
As she spoke Barbara had been working the whip handle up and down between Gail's vaginal lips, on the edge but not quite entering her pussy properly. Gail was flexing her knees, pushing her pelvis forward in attempt to impale herself on the wooden handle.
"Please…" she whimpered. "Please, Mistress."
Suddenly she withdrew the leather tormentor and presented it to Gail's mouth. It was wet with her pussy juice.
"Kiss it," she commanded.
Gail reared back then slowly leant forward and kissed the damp tip.
"Suck it."
Gail curved her lips around the whip handle and sucked it into her mouth, the taste of her own arousal making her shiver with excitement.
Pulling the whip handle free from Gail's reluctant mouth, Barbara stepped back. "Yes," she murmured. "Such a good slave."
She clapped her hands sharply. Immediately, a young girl emerged from the shadows. She was clad in a pair of baggy, gauze, harem pants; cinched tightly at the waist and ankles, and a veil that hid her face completely. Her torso was completely bare. Her wrists were linked by a fine, gold chain. In her hands she bore a tasselled velour cushion on which was laid a pair of small clamps joined by a short gold chain. She walked slowly over to Barbara, swaying her hips seductively, went down on one knee, dipped her head and offered the cushion.
There was a sub-vocal ripple from the watchers, hidden in the shadows round the room. They were observing the drama unfold open-mouthed, astounded by the performance Barbara was putting on. Her sense of theatre was brilliant. Only Adam had any idea of what she was planning and that only sketchy. To the others, Barbara had simply smiled and said, "Leave it to me."
Barbara tucked the whip under her arm, reached out and twisted Gail's protuberant nipples savagely with thumb and forefinger. Gail shrieked. Her eyes flew open and she watched in horror as Barbara lifted the clamps from the cushion and waved the girl away. With great deliberation, making sure Gail was watching closely, she fastened them to Gail's nipples. Pain lanced through Gail's body and she gripped the restraining rings with white knuckles; her face a mask of pain.
Barbara smiled cruelly and cupped Gail's mons, sliding a finger in between her pussy lips and frigging her gently. "Pain and pleasure," she crooned. "Pleasure and pain."
She moved round behind Gail again. Slowly, sensuously, she laid the strands across Gail's back, buttocks and tops of her thighs. The strokes were not hard. They seemed almost to caress rather than bite. But Gail felt each one - felt the leather strips slide across her skin - heating it, sensitising it. She twitched and tensed as each blow fell, wincing at the little stabs of fire that raced through her body.
Gradually, Barbara increased the force of her lashes, concentrating them on Gail's oval buttocks. The blows were spaced well apart so that Gail had time between them to anticipate the pain of each lash before it arrived. The blows were not violent but the psychological effect of the timing made them seem worse than they really were. Gail jerked and twisted in her restraints, her breasts bouncing. Her teeth were clenched, her eyes clamped shut and her chest was heaving with the violence of her emotions. The hot agony burned through her bottom.
Barbara played the game for what seemed to be an eternity, teasing and tormenting Gail with the subtle strands of her whip. Adam and the other observers could see nothing but Barbara was obviously aware of some change and stopped abruptly. Gail hung, body tensed in anticipation of the next blow which did not arrive. Cautiously, she opened her eyes, scarcely able to believe that her torment was over. She saw Barbara before her and let her body sag slackly from the rings. Her head dropped down on her chest and she heaved a huge, shuddering sigh. She was bathed in sweat, her hair dangled limply and she trembled all over. Barbara smiled and removed the nipple clamps. Gail looked up at her with haggard eyes.
"That was good, no?" said Barbara gently and bent and placed her lips over one ravished nipple. The effect on Gail was immediate and intense. She jerked up, thrust her breast out towards Barbara's mouth, and shuddered convulsively.
"Ohhhhhhh, shit," she wailed.
Barbara let go of the nipple. "You have cum again? You are very sensitive. That's good."
She clapped her hands sharply again. This time an older girl, attired in the same harem costume, trotted out and went down on one knee before Barbara.
"Taste her," Barbara commanded.
The girl turned and knelt back on her heels in front of Gail. She flipped back her veil and Adam saw, with a surge of excitement, that it was Felicia. Gail looked down at her and, as her face registered consternation as it dawned on her what was about to happen, Felicia buried her face in Gail's pubic hair. Gail's eyes flew wide and her mouth formed a silent 'O' as she felt Felicia's tongue worm its way between her labial lips and into her dripping cunt. It was obvious she had never been licked by a girl before. She tried to move away but Felicia's gripped her hips firmly and pushed her face more tightly against Gail's cunt. Barbara stepped up, unfastened the chain from one of Felicia's wrists, looped it round the back of Gail's legs and refastened it. Gail was now trapped unless and until Felicia decided to release her.
But Felicia's tongue was eager and experienced. Gail's initial consternation was quickly replaced by delight as the agile tongue probed deep into her cunt and uncovered her clitoris. She tried to lower her body, hanging from the rings by her hands, and spread her knees, encouraging Felicia's ministrations. She began to tense her inflamed buttocks and rotate her pelvis as Felicia licked and sucked her closer and closer to an orgasm.
"Yes," she hissed. "More! More! Don't stop!" And she threw her head back as she was overcome by a shuddering orgasm.
Felicia had no intention of stopping. She moved her hands to Gail's burning buttocks and gripped them hard, making Gail cry out in pain. But the pleasures induced by Felicia's tongue quickly made her forget her discomfort.
Barbara looked down at the scene with a satisfied smile. She stepped into the shadows for a moment and emerged with a small, slim vibrator.
"Open her," she commanded.
Felicia pulled Gail's oval buttocks apart, never moving her mouth from Gail's cunt and Barbara eased the vibrator into Gail's rear passage and turned it on.
"Oh, shit. Oh, no, not there!" she cried as the vibrator began to tremble inside he rear passage.
Her hips gyrated with more abandon, her pelvis thrusting and her buttocks tensing as she tried to escape the intruder. Felicia had to hold her tightly to maintain her contact with her cunt.
Barbara stepped back and clapped her hands sharply twice.
From a side room came Coral, flanked by two guards. Coral was naked and blindfolded her wrists tied together in front of her. Her guards were wearing long black cloaks with deep hoods that obscured their faces. The cloaks were fastened loosely at the neck and, as they walked, Adam could see that, underneath, they were dressed in the same costume as Barbara. Adam guessed that they were Jacqueline and Helen. They held on tightly to the girl's arms.
As they entered the pool of light, Barbara said in a ringing tone, "Look and see the true consequence of your meddling." She prodded Gail with the handle of her whip.
Gail, lost in the glut of sensations caused, first by the whipping and then by Felicia's knowing tongue, opened bleary eyes.
"Coral!" she cried, suddenly alert, and then, "Ohhhh, no, no," as the combined assault of the anal probe and Felicia's tongue brought her to another shuddering orgasm.
Coral was restrained like her mother, hands cuffed to a large ring above her head.
Adam had not lied when he had told Gail Ashby that her daughter was an eager participant. She was a hot little piece who had discovered, after some early trepidation, that she liked sex and particularly liked the thrill and suspense of submissive sex. She enjoyed being spanked and became almost uncontrollable afterwards, passionate and demanding, writhing and twisting beneath him as he pounded her tight cunt.
Barbara sauntered over and stood contemplating her. Coral stood submissively, eyes downcast, long, blonde hair hiding her face. Barbara tweaked her nipples roughly.
"You know why you are here?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Tell me."
"Because I have been bad. Because I told about what goes on at the school."
"You've put everyone to a great deal of trouble by your blabbing - me, Ms Henderson, all the other girls and even your poor mother. Look at her!"
Coral raised her head and looked over to where her mother hung limply in her restraints, sheened with sweat and dishevelled as Felicia continued to ply her tongue in her now willing cunt.
"I'm sorry," she wailed. "I didn't mean any harm."
Barbara smiled grimly. "No doubt. But harm you have caused anyway and now you must suffer the consequences. You know what I am going to do?"
"Yes, Mistress. You're going to whip me."
"And will you enjoy it?"
"I…" Coral seemed to shudder then said in a small voice, "Yes, Mistress, I shall enjoy it."
"Say it louder so your mother can hear."
"I shall enjoy being whipped."
"I don't think your mother can hear you. Call her and tell her."
"Mummy, Mistress Barbara is going to whip me and I will enjoy it. I like being whipped by her."
Her mother looked up at the sound of her daughter's voice but her lust-filled mind was unable to comprehend.
Barbara stroked the handle of the whip over Coral's front, lifting her rigid nipples with the end.
"I shall certainly enjoy it but I doubt very much, my dear, that you will."
She moved behind her victim and brought the thin strands sharply down on Coral's pert bottom. Coral flinched and bit her lip but did not cry out. Barbara continued to lay on the strokes, covering every inch of the girl's back, bottom and upper thighs. As the punishment continued, and the pain became more and more intense, Coral began to silently sob, the tears streaming down her cheeks. There was complete silence in the room except for the swish of the strands in the air and the smack as they hit the girl's flesh. Even Felicia had stopped tormenting Gail and was sitting back on her heels watching in awe. Gail, exhausted and sated, could only stare dumbly as her daughter received the thrashing of her life.
After a mysterious time when time seemed suspended, Barbara somehow knew that she had done enough. She stepped back and gestured theatrically to the shadows. Adam expected the hidden spectators to burst into applause. Instead, Anne, Helen, Jacqueline, Melanie, Celia and a number of other girls rushed over to the two victims, freed them from their bonds and half carried them out of the room, Helen looking particularly anxious about Coral.
Suddenly a great wave of fatigue swept over Adam. He felt emotionally drained - as if it had been he who had been strung up and wrung out. He had been vindicated. His analysis of Gail Ashby had been correct. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or not. In a half trance , he turned off the lights and found the keys. Everybody had left so he locked up and stumbled over to his apartment where, as he had suspected, he fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillows.
Proofread by Beej