Hans Meijer - The slave girl

"But I was only being sarcastic." Audrey protested. "We don't need a beastly chain on our necks. We can't get out of this damn cage."

"Then must have chain on hands and feet. You like this better."

She subsided, breasts heaving in fury. He held all the cards, they held none. There would always be a refutation.

"Or can tie hands behind backs if you prefer?" The offer was the soul of kindness.

They accepted linked necks.

"Reid Hunter will find us." Audrey vowed in conviction.

"Cheer up, darling."

"He won't find us if we get stuck in some rotten prison first. Audrey, dear, I'm scared. There's something final about everything they do to us. We could wear this collar and chain the rest of our lives."

They did not wear it to Court. It was taken from them. But their hands were bound at their backs and their elbows roped hard and tight to expose their breats. Standing in the dock, their nipples pointed at magistrate Mussuba like accusing fingers. Disgustedly, they heard the corporal read their list of crimes. Corey resigned herself to life imprisonment. Everybody except they themselves said a few words. Then the Magistrate. Corporal Eliah interpreted.

"Is this time no fine. This time no escapings. Judge is much sorrowful for such bad girls. He sentence you each to fifteen years in most strict prison for naughty ladies. He direct you must be put in most heavy irons because you wanting to escape. In prison is full discipline for both…"

"What's that mean?"

"The strap, the whip. Much restrains. Sometimes dark cell." The corporal diluted shock with consolation. "Could be worse. is only fifteen years. Could have been for life. Many girls go to prison for life."

It was too shattering, too medieval to immediately comprehend. In shock, they asked: "When does it start, corporal?"

"Magistrate very kind. He allow police to keep you a few days for fucking. I expect you glad?"

It seemed unkind to complain. Two female felons went with their jailor, not back to their cage but to a blacksmith.

"I can't believe this either." Audrey was sitting on a box. Her feet were raised upon an anvil. Around each ankle had been fitted a heavy iron band. Rivets had been inserted in holes. The blacksmith was raising his hammer… Corey stared in equal disbelief. The arms of both girls remained bound, as in Court. She stood, awaiting her turn, and watched the incredible take place. The centuries had rolled back five hundred years. Between the heavy anklets being riveted upon her fellow prisoner was a length of equally heavy chain, its links massive. It was longer than need be. It would not deter a girl in the servicing of men, but it would most certainly inhibit escape. With that weight of metal attached immovably upon her ankles each step would compel her to drag…! In fascination, Corey watched the hammer splat the soft metal down to form a rounded head. Two rivets to each shackle! Such irons would hold a giant. On a girl they were purely punitive. And for fifteen years…!

The four rivets having been hammered to become a part of the anklet itself, Audrey was helped to stand by the kindly aid of corporal Eliah. She was cruelly captive. Wrists and elbows tight bound, her feet ironed. Like a girl testing new shoes, she peered down at her own feet as she assayed a step. There was a visible pause, then with an equally visible effort, the hobbled foot advanced with its load of links following as a dead weight upon a foot that had lost its freedom for fifteen years.

"You see, you walk with muh care." The corporal was delighted. With shrinking heart and a sense of something lost forever, Corey Gibson took her turn upon the box. When she lifted her feet to the anvil and saw the fitting of the iron bands upon her ankles she remembered the old cliches: 'Walking in the last mile', the 'Point of no return', the 'Moutning of the Scaffold steps'. She wanted to weep in memory of lost liberty. In comparison with this horror Seth's coffle was a privilege much to be desired.

"With rivets, they cannot be unlocked. There is no key." The corporal explained pridefully.. "No one can be helping naughty girls."

The hammer impacted, the metal spread. Corey saw imprisonment become real and actual before her eyes. In but a few minutes she stood beside Audrey Cotswold, the weight on her ankles horrific and frightening, exchanging wide eyed dismay at an imposition far worse than they had supposed. She lifted a foot, suddenly leaden, and dragged…

"I catch you if you fall." The corporal promised expansively. Then extended himself to humour. "I also catch you if you run."

They did not run.

In the cell their arms and wrists were freed. In their barred confinement their irons became more practical. They had little need to walk. From one side of their prison was only three or four gragging steps, the rest of them was free. If they stood still they could enjoy a false sensation of liberty. But this reflection was grim. It meant that, from now on, their life would be spent behind bars in small confined spaces where the irons would not matter much, other than as a constantly depressing reminder of their condition, and a mocking denial to anyone who sought to aid their escape. They were grateful for each other. To have been alone in the cage would have been a thing hard to take. They even managed a giggle as they heaved their irons awkwardly up to enable them to sit on their bench facing each other, chin on bent knees, and talk about their most immediate infliction. "We're going to be fucked." Audrey mourned matter-on-factly. "What do we do about it?"

"Darling, I've been a whore. I told you, it doesn't really matter… unless a girl lets it. So don't let it matter." Corey was ashamedly proud of her expertise.

"We can spread our legs, dammit!" Labourously, Audrey did so. "The sons of bitches, they had that figured when they shackled us with all this chain. We can't either run or say no." She managed another giggle. "But they cheated themselves out of any good leg action."

"I got the impression we wouldn't be screwed in prison." Corey meditated.

"There's only about a dozen policemen and the corporal… oh, and that magistrate bastard gets in on us too, doesn't he? It could be worse, y'know."

"Gosh, what a spot! You mean, we have to be grateful for being fucked by only fourteen men we don't even like?"

Audrey wrinkled her nose in disgust. "And you can bet they'll have friends… Oh, damn, we've got a visitor."

"I have decided to fuck you now." Announced the corporal magnanimously. "My men will come later as their duties permit. We are all much pleased and very hard." He unlocked the cell door. "Which of you would like to enjoy me first?"

Corey Gibson arranged her nakedness in the oldest position in the world. As a reassurance to a dubious Audrey, she proclaimed jauntily. "Me first, please corporal."

"Ah, you are wise girl." The corporal was flattered, his own self assessment confirmed. "I have very hard…"

"Can't we have privacy?" Audrey broke in on his pleasantries. "Can't you take us somewhere, one at a time, and do it to us in private?"

The corporal was puzzled. "You do not like to watch?"

"No, and I don't want to be seen either. It's not decent. This damn cell is like a cage in the Zoo. What girl wants to be fucked in a cage!"

"Hush, darling, it's no use." Corey was concerned.

"Miss Gibson is right." The corporal confirmed. "She is a most proper young lady. Perhaps if I whip you a little you will become polite?"

Audrey shrugged in resignation. She watched. She admired the corporal's member. She was by no means untrained in sexuality. When the thrustings and moanings drew to a close she obeyed the inviting gesture and cleansed their jailor's glistening penis with her mouth, lips and tongue. When, after a minute, it responded with an expanding virility, Miss Audrey Cotswold lay on her back and thrust savagely at the irons on her feet. She did not close her eyes but looked steadily at Corey Gibson as she was raped.