Collateral Synopsis

Unbeknown to her, Lucy is put forward as collateral for a gambling debt payment. She hasnÕt money so must give her body, something her stubbornness and pride refuses to do. Can she survive the BossÕs painful methods of persuasion?

# Collateral

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by obohobo

## Warnings

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Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF NC. Spanking

If you are underage or offended by such material, or if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies. In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation.

© obohobo 2009

Collateral

I know IÕm unusually stubborn and have an excessive amount of pride; I know too, that I could have saved myself much pain and suffering if IÕd put my stubbornness and pride aside but would I have been able to live with myself afterwards?

ÒYou sure we got sent to the right address Boss? She doesnÕt seem to have two pennies to her name and there was nothing of any value in her flat. Lot of paintings and drawings and arty stuff but nothing that would sell for much.Ó

ÒPlease Sir, why have these brutes dragged me from my bed and brought me here?Ó I asked, tears running down my face. ÒThere must be some mistake.Ó Once more I tried to shake myself free from the two thugs holding me in front of the dapper little man in the maroon suit and red bow tie; the man they simply called ÔBossÕ, the man who wielded more power than many international corporation executives.

ÒYou are Lucy Cohen and you live at Flat 10B in Cumberland Towers?Ó

ÒYes, butÉÓ

ÒAnd Lenny Hobson is your boyfriend?Õ

ÒNot really. We went out twice. He was nice company but not really a boyfriend. Why have youÉÓ

ÒAnd you drive a nice Mercedes?Ó

ÒThatÕs Charlotte DuvalleÕs car. I drove it once to Etherbridge to get special homeopathic medicine she wanted when she was ill and did some shopping for her as well. Please, whatÕs this all about?Ó

ÒSo you canÕt raise the £20,000 Lenny promised?Ó

ÒI couldnÕt raise £200, IÕve been unable to get a job since I left university and hardly exist on the benefits I get and the few pictures I sell and I owe Charlotte a monthÕs rent and I have my student loan to pay off. Please, whatÕs this all about? I donÕt have any money.Ó

ÒThat fuckerÕs cheated me. Put the word out boys, I want him found and when he is, take a hammer to his knees and cripple him for life. Make sure theyÕre so bad, no amount of surgery will give him back the use of his legs. He wonÕt do it again, thatÕs for sure.Ó His anger and vindictiveness horrified me. Turning to me he explained, ÒLeonard Hobson ran up a gambling debt with me for £20,242. Normally we would have stopped him before he got that far behind but he was cunning and did it through several of my offices at near closing time so the staff didnÕt spot it. As a gesture of good will, I agreed to settle for £20,000 when he said his girlfriend was rich and would stand as collateral to pay off his debt. He gave us your name and address. We intended to keep him until we got the money but he slipped our hold so now we only have you as collateral.Ó

ÒI told you, I have less than no money.Ó

ÒBut you have a decent body, you can use that to earn enough to pay off the debt, maybe then we wonÕt have to put Lenny in a wheelchair for life.Ó

ÒIÕm not a whore! IÕll never prostitute myself for you or any one else!Ó

ÒYou will Miss Lucy Cohen, you will if you know what is good for you. Take her pyjamas off boys and letÕs see what she has to offer.Ó

My valiant efforts to hold on to the only covering I had, amused them for a short while but, inevitably, I stood naked in front of him, one of the thugs holding my arms behind my back while the other hefted my moderate sized breasts and pinched my nipples.

ÒNice tits and not a bad body. With a bit of training you could do well at the clubs.Ó Smirking at me, Boss undid his zipper and showed me his prick, a prick smaller than the pricks of two boys I had at university. ÒI hope you know how to give a good blowjob because youÕll frequently be asked to do that.Ó

I shook my head, no, but the two men forced me to my knees in front of him. ÒBest you do what the Boss says Missy,Ó one of the thugs pushed my face close to the half-hard prick. Again I shook my head and kept my mouth closed. One pinched my nose. I showed my teeth. ÒDonÕt even think about biting Missy or youÕll really suffer.Ó

My anger flared. Why should I allow these men to dictate to me? Force me to have sex against my will? Force me to suck the little manÕs disgusting prick? ÒNo!Õ I yelled, ÒIÕm not a whore! IÕm not giving myself to you. YouÕre strong enough to rape me, but I will not give myself to you.Ó Two fingers closed my nostrils again and a blow to my stomach forced my mouth open. Boss man slid his prick in. Anger turned to rage, I wasnÕt about to submit without fighting back. It took a few moments to get my breath during which time Boss man held my hair and thrust in and out of my mouth thinking heÕd subdued me. How wrong he was, although I paid for it afterwards. In a swift movement I opened my mouth wide, turned slightly sideways so his prick was partly crossways and then closed my jaws and gripped his prick with the knob locked between the teeth on one side and the shaft the other. Biting down hard I tasted blood, his blood. He yelled but I didnÕt release my grip until two vicious blows to my skull knocked me unconscious.

Slowly my vision returned. From my position huddled and crying on the floor I saw Boss man sitting with a handkerchief wrapped around his prick, a handkerchief blotched red. It matched the livid anger of his face. The pain in my head overcame me again for a short while and when I came to, the thugs were laying me across a table. ÒJez, you hold her while Steve thrashes her arse with his belt. Make sure she canÕt sit for a month Steve, and then fuck the shit out of her. Make her pay a high price for defying me and for the pain sheÕs caused. SheÕll fucking do what sheÕs told in future. Stick her in the cellar when youÕve done, IÕll check later to see if youÕve done it well enough and maybe bring a hammer and knock her fucking teeth out. DonÕt spare the fucking bitch.Ó

Time and time again, the belt lashed my poor bottom, IÕve no idea how many strokes I received because the pain in my head combined with the pain from the belt, caused me to fade in and out of consciousness. I do remember Steve forcing his prick into my dry vagina and fucking me but knew nothing more until Jez had his turn. By then my lubrication must have kicked in as his entry wasnÕt painful but each time he thrust his loins against my arse, I yelled hoarsely until I could do nothing but groan.

Hours later I made tentative moves to take in my surroundings. Even the tiniest movement hurt but I needed to pee. The cellar, a large open room lit by three fully enclosed lights in the ceiling, had obviously been used to keep people imprisoned previously. I lay on a double bed with a mattress but no bedclothes or pillows. Two old chairs, one of which had my pyjamas thrown over the back, and a small table completed the meagre furnishings. Carefully looking around, I noticed head high partitioning across one corner enclosing a simple washroom with a shower and toilet but no door and, in the opposite corner encased in a wire cage, the boiler for the house heating system hummed and gurgled and provided warmth for the room too, its green digital timer my only means of knowing the time. I hobbled to the metal-clad fire door at one end of the cellar, but, as expected, found it locked, foiling any thoughts of an escape attempt.

Sick with pain and worry, I slowly made my way to the washroom and stared with horror at the sickly purple colour and much swollen face in the mirror. Tears fell over my cheeks as I tried to see the state of my buttocks but without performing an impossible contortion act, the height of the mirror prevented it. Perhaps that was just as well. I stood and peed, splashed some cool water over my face and bum before slowly making a circuitous way back to the bed, noting the timer said 08:43. People ought to be up and about but would anyone come for me and would it be to cause me more pain? Would that horrible man in the maroon suit come and take his revenge?

For two hours I lay face down on the mattress alternately feeling sorry for myself and wondering what would happen when boss man came. Would they kill me? No, they wanted me to earn money to pay con man LennyÕs debt. Would they force me to become one of their girls willing to have sex for money? Not if I could prevent it.

The washroom held nothing that would ease my pain and I could only try to lie still and not move any muscles. My mind whirled as it sort to make sense of what happened and find a reason for my being chosen. It all came back to an unlucky chance encounter. When I returned in CharlotteÕs car, Lenny lounged in the parking area. He offered to help me with my parcels but, thinking he wanted to get inside the security doors to the flats, I declined. He struck up a conversation and I found him personable enough and agreed to accompany him to the cinema the following Friday. A week later, we went for a meal at a local pub. Both were pleasant occasions and a night out for me that I wouldnÕt have been able to afford. We didnÕt discus personal details, in fact I deliberately avoided letting him know my dire situation, while he gave the impression of a man about town and tried to worm his way into my bedroom but I didnÕt let him inside the main door to the block of flats. Perhaps that is what angered him enough to put me up as collateral for his debt to a man that seemed to flout the law.

Finally I got up and limped slowly to the shower, hoping the warm water would ease my pain. Perhaps it eased the stiffness in my buttocks a little but the pain was still horrendous. Wet and naked, I stood alongside the boiler to dry. The green figures blinked 11:02. Would anyone come? Would it be that man coming to torture me again?

Minutes later my thoughts were answered. Keys turned in the lock and Jez accompanied by a whorishly dressed woman pushing a trolley, entered the room. ÒWill you be okay in there with her Rose? SheÕs a feisty bitch.Ó

I started to get my pyjamas. ÒChrist Jez, what the hell did you do to her? I know she bit him pretty hard but sheÕll be no use to us at the club for at least two weeks. Yeah, IÕll be okay and I have the panic button.Ó Turning to me she went on, ÒGet on the bed Lucy, and let me see what the damage is. IÕll try and ease your pain a bit but donÕt expect miracles and keep your teeth to yourself. I had to bandage the BossÕs prick before taking him to the club clinic so I know what you did and I guess itÕs a wonder that you are still alive. HeÕs had to go to another branch for a few days so youÕre safe for a little while.Ó I tried asking for a drink but my mouth was too swollen to speak properly. At least she seemed friendlier than the men but I doubted she would help in any escape attempt.

She realised my difficulty in speaking and talked without asking questions that needed more than a nod for a reply. ÒIÕm Rose and IÕm in charge of the ladies that work at the club. You are in the basement of one of the other properties he keeps for private use. Boss Wilcox owns a chain of clubs and casinos that cater for the sexual titillation of the well to do. The Connoisseurs Club, where youÕll be working, has topless waitresses and features erotic dancing and massage and we have rooms upstairs that members can take the girls for sex. Even though the club takes 60% of your earnings, you should be able to pay off your debt in a month or two. Any tips you earn, and for some girls that is as much as their other earnings, are yours.Ó

I shook my head negatively at her words and managed to croak, ÒIÕm not a whore.Ó

ÒYouÕll get used to it, itÕs a job like any other.Ó

I didnÕt agree but couldnÕt argue and left her to carry on chatting while she applied ointment to my bottom and face. She left a supply of bedding and toiletries so I had a few more comforts than on that first night.

For two weeks they kept me imprisoned in that cellar and for the last week, Jez and Steve visited twice and day and raped me. ÒItÕs to get you used to your new way of life, Lucy. You need to learn how to respond to having a manÕs prick inside you and make the client feel that heÕs the worldÕs best lover if you are going to earn decent tips,Ó Jez informed me during his first Ôsex lessonÕ as he called it. I resolved never to let him or anyone I didnÕt want, have the satisfaction of stimulating me enough to respond to their fucking. Jez even spanked me once for being no better than a blow up rubber doll, but Rose must have had a word with him about marking me and undoing her efforts to rid my body of the ugly bruises. She sent another girl each day with food but Rose visited often and reprimanded me for my lack of cooperation. It didnÕt make any difference to my resolve.

Finally the two brutes took me to the club and Rose gave me a room on the top floor, which I shared with a younger girl, Jenny, who seemed to enjoy her life there and who had no sexual inhibitions, as far as I could tell. To my surprise the clothes from my flat were in a wardrobe together with what I guessed were my working clothes, diminutive pieces of material that would cover little of my body and brought home to me the reality of my life at the club. None of my other personal possessions or my paintings had been brought and when I asked later, Steve told me theyÕd all been dumped and my flat cleared. ÒWe made it look like you did a moonlight flit to get out of paying the rent,Ó he grinned. I grieved at the loss of my art materials and the portfolio of work for without it, I wouldnÕt be able to get job in the art field.

My appearance and demeanour on my first evening at work, displeased Rose but it embarrassed me far more and I made sure the customers knew I wasnÕt there willingly. Before opening time Rose ordered me to do my make-up and asked Jenny to make sure my corset supported my tits properly and my skirt showed my arse nicely. She did but I almost refused to go out of the room when I saw myself in the mirror. ÒI am not a whore!Ó I shouted at myself in the mirror but the short skirt, the high heels that I could only totter on, made me look like one.

The outburst startled Jenny but then she smiled, ÒJust let yourself go and enjoy yourself – and get paid for it!Ó I scowled.

Never having worn high heels before, I turned my ankle on the second trip to the table I served and angrily threw them behind the bar and continued barefoot. My unsmiling face and curt words did not please the customers and neither did they appreciate my slapping their hands when they tried to insinuate them under my skirt or feel my breasts. Rose replaced me and put me on cloakroom duty for the rest of the evening. Next morning, she summoned me to her office and alternately admonished me for my behaviour and cajoled me to do better. ÒIÕll give you one more chance tonight and if that doesnÕt work, you can sit on the stage until a client pays to take you to a room.Ó

Once more I repeated my mantra, ÒI am not a whore and you people have no right to treat me like this. I didnÕt do any thing wrong except to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I will not give in.Ó

That evening was even worse. I had to serve a table of six men with a business account. They were all away from home and wanted fun without their wives knowing. Firstly I refused to even put the heels on and wore a pair of flat heels of mine and then I repeated my surliness of the previous evening. My stubbornness would not be cowed and I hoped to be released if they found me unsuitable. Little did I realise the depth of suffering I would undergo before that happened. I know my attitude annoyed the men but they kept making lewd remarks and trying to feel between my legs. Finally, when one man didnÕt desist, I picked up the water jug and from quite high up so everyone could see, I poured the entire contents over the front of his trousers. ÒPerhaps that will cool your ardour!Ó I screamed but the words were soon lost in the invective from the recipient. Two bouncers took me to a room and locked me in.

Half an hour later, Rose and the bouncers returned. ÒWell youÕve done it again Lucy, youÕve earned yourself another punishment and this time itÕs a public one. The only way we can mollify our customer is to allow him to cane you and, as you treated him with such disrespect in front of everyone, so everyone will see him get his revenge. You will also entertain him in a room afterwards.Ó

ÒYet another rape,Ó I hissed and started to sob and shake in fear but that made no difference to the outcome. My hopes that my unruly behaviour would cause my expulsion were dashed. Held firmly, the bouncers dragged me to the stage.

ÒGentlemen and ladies, you will have noticed one of our girls, Lucy, is here unwillingly even though she has a large debt to repay. You will also have witnessed her truly appalling behaviour to one of the guests and to help mitigate his suffering and to show we at this club take our clients seriously, we have agreed to allow him to give Lucy twelve strokes of the cane in front of you. If any members prefer not to see the caning, please feel free to use the other lounge for a short while.Ó As far as I could tell, no one moved. I shouted my innocence and pleaded to be sent home without realising I no longer had a home, but strong hands quickly had me bent over a low bench and held there while others removed my skirt and knickers. I blushed at being so openly on display to the guests and further embarrassed myself by voiding my bladder. I distantly heard various comments and laughter but it didnÕt hold up my punishment.

The man must have used all his force because I felt the cane bite deeply into my flesh and hit the bone. A tremendous howl escaped my lips before the second one bit into me. Not having fully recovered from my previous thrashing, when the sixth stroke cut its dreadful way into soft bum, my screams died into a hoarse gurgle and I blacked out. Apparently he gave me three more before voices raised in dissent caused the management to curtail the punishment. The murmurs became a vociferous denunciation of the man when two expensively but revealingly dressed women, came to the stage and berated him loudly and long for being a sadistic monster and for using an excessive amount of punishment for a minor offence. That didnÕt absolve me from spending the evening in a room with him but, although he raped me twice, I doubt if he got any satisfaction or pleasure from it. My wails and crying would have put off even the most hardened sadist.

ÒOkay deary, letÕs get you up to the clinic and see what we can do to ease your suffering.Ó A middle-aged lady in nurses uniform with a tag ÔMeganÕ, came into the room and helped me to a bed in the hospital unit and gave me a couple of painkillers before examining my welts. ÒHe was an amateur all right, hit far too hard and some strokes are on top of others. IÕll put some salve on, it will feel really cold but it will help to ease the fire. If you are going to exist here, youÕd be wise to get over your stubbornness and go with the flow. I saw the result of your nearly biting Boss WilcoxÕs prick off and know you got thrashed for that. Your young body wonÕt take too much of that sort of punishment.Ó

Rose came and reiterated the nurseÕs comments and added that she would put me downstairs on room service the following day. ÒBossÕs orders,Ó she added.

Jenny visited and wasnÕt pleased with my tantrum either. ÒSix of us girls had to service all the men on that table for an hour for free so we lost quite a bit of money, money that you canÕt make up. Why couldnÕt you just let him have a feel? YouÕd have saved yourself a thrashing and weÕd have done our usual routine and bedded several clients.Ó

ÒWhat will they make me do in the downstairs room?Ó

ÒAnything the customer wants. We call them the dungeon rooms and mainly they are used for prostitutes and others who donÕt do their job properly or who try the cheat the management out of their cut. You will be chained naked to a bed and there are ropes and restraints, and straps and whips on a corner table for them to use and they can use you in any way for the time theyÕve paid for with the proviso there is no permanent damage done and you donÕt need to go to an outside hospital. ItÕs usually the weirdoes that pay for that service.Ó I looked shocked and very depressed and started crying again. ÒThe good thing is, it is expensive so not many men choose that option and you may not get picked for several nights. The rooms are open and the client goes in each until he finds a girl that takes his fancy and then he locks the door with a token and does what he wishes with her. ItÕs monitored but it is rare for management to intervene.Ó

Fortunately the nurse prevailed on Rose to wait a day before sending me downstairs and like Jenny indicated, not many men came by and those that did, must have disliked my scowling face or perhaps it was the notice above my bed, ÔBeware this one bites! Hard!Õ Even so, chained in a sitting position for five hours, my legs fastened widely apart and the welts on my still swollen and raw bottom chafing on the cotton sheets with little movement allowed, was most excruciatingly painful and every evening I cried for much of the time, making my faced blotched and red. Add to this the embarrassment of being sexually examined by at least one man each night and you can imagine, I was about ready to give in, indeed to give up life itself. I have no idea how many similar rooms were occupied but most evenings I heard muffled screams from somewhere along the corridor.

My luck ran out on the fourth evening. ÒI do believe itÕs the Lucy that was caned the other night and didnÕt take her full punishment. I hope youÕll do better tonight. LetÕs see if the welts still show. Good. Still very colourful and sore but I think I can paint a few more colours over them and brighten your tits as well. Yes, IÕll think I will spend my time with you.Ó Shutting the door, the white haired, elderly man in an expensive suit, put his token in to lock it. Fear overcame me again as I watched him undress and then examine the implements on the corner table. ÒI think IÕll pay your arse some attention for starters. First IÕll fasten your wrists together and tie them to the bar over the headboard, then I can get at all parts of your tender young body and make it even more tender. When youÕre really sore and responsive, IÕll fuck your arse and if I can get it up again in the time, IÕll fuck your cunt.Ó My cries reached a new crescendo and I pleaded with not to hurt me more but that only spurred him on.

Immediately my ankles were free, I closed my thighs but the token gesture only made him laugh. ÒIÕll open them when IÕm ready but for now itÕs this swollen bum flesh that interests me.Ó Further appeals for him to desist, fell on deaf ears.

ÒNO!Ó I screamed and yelled when he roughly squeezed and kneaded my sore buttocks and my voice rose even louder when he tried to force his forefinger in my arsehole (I might as well use the crude terms as most of my shame has gone). I tightly closed my opening and thought I had succeeded in keeping him out until he returned from the corner with a strap. Eight or nine strokes later, my senses started to blur but he still persisted in trying to gain entry.

ÒI guess you are an arse virgin, well IÕll see about putting that right.Ó I didnÕt answer but continued to scream until after a few more strokes of the strap, I passed out.

His prick pumped inside me when I came to and by the feel of things heÕd used a considerable amount of lubricant. The incredible pain caused me to teeter on the verge of unconsciousness again and finally the blessed blackness overcame me.

He was most displeased but I knew heÕd spent himself in my bowels. ÒThat was the worst fuck IÕve ever had,Ó he complained, ÒPerhaps if I tickle your titties a bit, your response will be better.Ó Picking up what he called a flogger and rolling me on my back, he proceeded to flog my breasts in all directions, and continued down my stomach, and, after heÕd fastened my ankles apart again, between my thighs until my body and cunt were red and raw. Unfortunately I stayed awake throughout. The sight of this sadistic torture of my poor body stimulated his lust and, throwing himself on top of me, he thrust his prick in my sore vagina and fucked roughly and hard. I lay still, unwilling to assist him in any way even if my tormented body would have allowed it. Before he finished I willed myself into oblivion.

Vaguely I heard bleeping and with a couple more swipes at my tits, the man dressed and cursed, ÒYou are the most useless whore on this planet. I paid a lot of money for this hour and you slept most of it. IÕm complaining to the management and demanding a refund.Ó

I have no idea how I arrived at the clinic or how long IÕd been there but when I woke, daylight shone through the windows and I felt a little euphoric and light headed. Nurse Megan came by. ÒYou caught yourself a bad one again and I get to do the patching up,Ó she gave a weak smile, ÒI gave you a sedative and an injection so you shouldnÕt be in too much pain for a little while. I did that off my own bat but I doubt if they will give me authorisation to give you another, so make the most of it. Boss Wilcox is coming in this afternoon to decide what to do with you.Ó

By early afternoon the effects of the drugs had worn off and yet again, I felt nothing but agonising pain. Megan applied cream but having been whipped front and back, I couldnÕt lie in any position without suffering dreadfully. My mind tried to find a way to end it all but I guessed I would be watched too closely to get a sharp knife and the other option of a hunger strike would either be a long drawn out period of agony or they would force feed me. I decided to wait and see what the Boss decided before furthering any suicide plans.

ÒSo bitch, youÕve been here two weeks and havenÕt earned a penny to pay off your debt. YouÕve made no effort to perform and caused the management and customers no end of trouble. What shall we do with her Rose?Ó

ÒWhat about giving her to Phil to train?Ó

ÒIf sheÕs useless as a whore here, what good will she be as a street prostitute?Ó

ÒProbably not much but heÕs had some success with other girls. ItÕs either that or we have to sell her and cut our losses. If we include her time in the cellar, weÕve kept her for a month for no return. WeÕd have to keep her another month to get her body in a fit state for sale. What she did at the club and to you has already done the rounds of many members and been exaggerated many times so they are unlikely to want her even for a low price and she hasnÕt the plump blonde figure that interests many foreign buyers.Ó

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. They were trying to sell me as if I were some piece of goods. Perhaps to them I was.

For three weeks, until IÕd recovered sufficiently, they put me on cleaning duty from 9 - 4, mostly changing bedding and vacuuming. Vera, my workmate, did what she could to ease my burden although it made more work for her, especially during the first few days. My duties as a whore were not forgotten either. From 4:30 until dinner at 6:00 I had to be naked on a bed in room 207 and each day three of the security men or male members of staff were detailed to pleasure me. I didnÕt get any pleasure out of it but at least they were more considerate and took care not to hurt me. I let them do what they had to do without a fuss knowing they would be in trouble if they didnÕt perform, but kept my response to a minimum. None asked for a blowjob; the incident with the Boss had now grown with the retelling and the latest version had doctors sewing the three pieces of his penis back together and putting an artificial splint in so it remained permanently erect.

By the end of that period my physical health had improved, although many of the marks from my thrashings remained, but I became increasingly worried as to what would happen when Phil took charge of my training as a prostitute. Once again, my stubborn nature refused to go along with the supposed training but I did wonder if, while I was on the streets, I would have a greater chance of escape.

In contrast to Boss Wilcox, Phil was a large man with an outwardly jovial personality but I soon learned not to thwart him especially as he didnÕt want me as part of his team of girls. ÒIÕm only taking you to please Boss man and if you donÕt pull your weight and do enough tricks, youÕll feel my wrath and if that doesnÕt work, youÕll be sent back to the club to work in the downstairs dungeons again.Ó Bravely I told him that I had no intention of being one of his prostitutes and he should not expect me to service any customers. Without any warning I found myself over his knee, my skirt pulled up and my arse again receiving a pasting, this time from his hard hand. You might think that I would become used to the pain but actually the reverse was true. I guess it was the fear that triggered something in my brain to shut down my consciousness but, after only half-a-dozen slaps, I went limp. That did not please him either.

At the time several other girls were in the room and voiced their disapproval at being forced to work with a girl who would be a dead weight and a drag on their income. One came up with a temporary solution.

ÒPhil, you know Sara and me have to do the princess skit in the backroom of the Chequers? We pretend we need to choose a suitable husband from a suite of half-a-dozen princes by the way their cocks perform. We each have to try out three and have to wear fancy dresses that are a bit of a bind to take off. How about she dresses as a maid and helps us with our clothing and does a bit of fluffing? WeÕre booked to do it twice over the weekend so that should ease her into our lifestyle and if sheÕs a surly maid, she wonÕt be unduly out of place.Ó

How would I react to seeing and helping other girls to be fucked? While IÕd had several men waiting their turn for me and IÕd seen plenty of naked girls in the showers and on stage, I had never been in a room during what could only be described as an orgy. However, although I realised the girl was trying to be helpful, I stood my ground. ÒI do not wish to take part in any of your activities all I want is to be released and allowed to get on with my life and find a proper job. I wasnÕt the one in debt to Boss Wilcox.Ó

ÒYouÕll do it, and youÕll work the streets afterwards if you know what is good for you,Ó Phil hissed.

So I found myself on a stage with the two girls and six young men in front of an audience I couldnÕt see in the darkness. What the girls did totally disgusted and shocked me. IÕd heard the stories from girls at the club but now, forced to witness it close-to, I knew I would never wish to do such things. They took the pricks far down their throats and drooled when they pulled back; they allowed them to fuck their tits, arseholes and cunts and did so with enthusiasm and swallowed the menÕs sperm. Several times they asked me to assist by holding open their bottom cheeks and inserting a prick into the open brown hole and I did so with great reluctance and refused to allow the men to even grope my breasts. After the performance on the Friday evening, the girls gave an unfavourable report to Phil.

Something must have been arranged without my knowing because near the end of the Saturday show, when I again refused to allow one of the men to fondle my tits, Sara slapped my face hard and reprimanded me loudly for being a useless maid. To those watching, it was obviously not part of the show but they cheered when she ordered the men to undress me completely. First lewdly she exposed my nakedness and still somewhat bruised body to the crowd and then had them bend me over the bed with my arse facing the audience. ÒThis bitch thinks sex is not for her and needs to be shown what it is like to be well and truly fucked. Are there three men willing to come on stage and do the necessary? No charge.Ó Any number of men took up SaraÕs offer and she selected three to rape me on the stage. That brought forth more cheers and delighted clapping.

ÒI hear your performance was well received,Ó Phil grinned at me next morning but I refused to even look at him.

Two evenings later, I stood at the kerbside a little behind Diane in the notorious red light district and looked around trying to see if there was anywhere I could run to. There wasnÕt. IÕd been instructed what to do, what to charge and where to take the clients, but I had no intention of charging anything or going anywhere and when a car pulled up and beckoned me over, I curtly told the driver to keep going or IÕd charge him with kerb crawling. DianeÕs fist found my stomach and I gasped for breath on the pavement. For the next hour she or one of the others when she had a client, kept me in the doorway of a shop and threatened to have Phil beat the shit out of me later.

Near midnight, word came down the line that a police patrol car was approaching and the girls disappeared into nearby alleyways. At first I followed them but seeing my chance, I ran to the kerb only to have Diane and another girl grab my arms and drag me to a dark doorway hidden from the road. The police must have seen the incident because the car stopped, a policeman got out but didnÕt go after us, and instead he spoke into his radio.

ÒShit on you bitch!Ó Diane spat, ÒNow they are sending for the cavalry. LetÕs get out of here Jojo, thereÕll be nothing more doing tonight.Ó

I started yelling but DianeÕs fist found my stomach for the second time and winded me so I couldnÕt resist when they dragged me to an unlocked warehouse door. Several other girls were already inside. ÒYouÕre the last Diane,Ó one said as she shoved the bolt home, ÒLetÕs get the bitch upstairs where we can work her over and watch what goes on outside. Better gag her.Ó Not only did they gag me but also they rendered me helpless by tying my wrists with a strip of cloth.

Seven girls assembled in the upstairs area while a young black girl, whose face was less likely to be spotted at the window, kept watch and gave a commentary on the police activity. ÒThree more police cars and a van parked at the kerb. Good job the owner lets us use this place. TheyÕre walking down the alley two coming down this one. Better keep her quiet for a bit.Ó The lookoutÕs voice dropped to a whisper, ÒTheyÕre trying the doorÉ theyÕre moving on.Ó The punches, slaps and kicks started. I fell to the concrete floor and felt a sharp pain in my ankle as I tumbled over some obstacle but at the time it seemed the least of my worries. Of course I blacked out shortly after it started but from the bruising I had to my face and body, it must have continued for some time. Phil was not pleased and from the state of my ankle I wouldnÕt be able to stand for a while even if it was only a sprain. The girls gave him an ultimatum, ÒSend her back to the club where she came from and let the Boss deal with her. WeÕll all get jail time if sheÕs out there with us.Ó

ÒOh, not you back again,Ó Nurse Megan greeted me but she smiled as she said it, ÒAnd it looks as if the girls really worked you over. Just have to hope there are no internal injuries.Ó She carefully fingered my ankle that had swelled to an enormous size, and got the bossÕs permission to send me to a private hospital that dealt with Club injuries. I had broken a bone and my foot would be in a plaster cast for at least six weeks. They also X-rayed my chest and found three badly cracked ribs but all the doctor could do for them was to prescribe painkillers and rest. ÒYou wonÕt be able to lift anything heavy without pain for some months,Ó he informed me. Megan actually got them for me at the hospital pharmacy.

Boss Wilcox and Rose were not pleased when they checked on me. ÒDo what you can to make her look presentable Megan, and then weÕll cut our losses and sell the bitch. SheÕs of no use to us except as a cleaner and that wonÕt cover her debt for a long while and during that time, I expect sheÕll cause further disruption. Actually the boys have a lead on LennyÕs whereabouts so it may not be all loss.Ó Through my half closed eyes, I hardly saw them.

Five days later, I was well enough to get about in a wheelchair. ÒNormally you would be given crutches for an ankle injury but with broken ribs as well, the doctor thought they would put too much strain on your body and delay recovery,Ó Megan informed me and from somewhere she borrowed a motorised one so I could get around without help although I didnÕt go out of the clinic for a week.

Vera was the only person who came to visit me personally but I saw the girls who came for routine check-ups and blood tests etc. Most of them shunned me but when Vera came we talked without referring to my behaviour. It was she who took me to the staff common room and I ate in their canteen. It provided a little break from the daily boredom.

On a Sunday morning nearly a fortnight after being brought into the clinic, I watched Megan as she sat at her computer updating records, and I had the urge to draw again. She looked at me curiously when I took a sheet of paper from the printer and picked up her pencil. Resting the paper on a magazine, I soon became fully absorbed with my sketching. The pains in my muscles still didnÕt allow me to work as freely as I would have liked but eventually I produced a good likeness, which Megan praised enthusiastically. When Vera came, she too admired the drawing and I had to repeat the performance with her as the subject. Of course I disclaimed their value and remarked that they should be done on proper drawing paper with better pencils but then I remembered Steve saying theyÕd dumped all my precious art gear and tears flowed at the remembrance of my past life.

ÒWhat would you need to get started again in a basic way Lucy?Ó Megan asked. Next day I received a drawing pad, a set of watercolour pencils and an assorted box of lead pencils. Overjoyed, I promised to do a proper portrait of her. I did several others too and this came to RoseÕs attention.

ÒWith a bit of make-up on your face, youÕll look reasonably presentable so you could go into the club room and sketch the customers and charge them £100 a time. The club would take its 60% but that would still bring you in some money and help pay for your keep here. YouÕd be Lucy Lautrec!Ó

Really I had no wish to see the inside of the clubroom again but I had little say in the matter. ÒJust go up to a customer and ask if you can sketch them, no, better still, IÕll get the DJ to announce the service and show them my portrait.Ó

My first customer was the lady whoÕd berated the sadist after my caning. At first she sat demurely while I did a rough sketch but it looked stilted and I asked her to act normally. Her friend, laughed pulled the front of her dress down completely exposing her breasts. ÒThatÕs more your style Kathryne, pick up your glass and let Lucy draw you as we see you,Ó her friend said. A stage show came on that claimed her attention and by the end of the act I only had to add a little colour. Fortunately, she was over the moon and delightedly proclaimed my artistry and showed it to others around us. That landed me three more commissions. I made £160 for myself and £240 for the club. Not as much as the whore girls brought in but more than I normally earned in my Ôreal lifeÕ for so few hours work.

It wasnÕt always that good and often at the beginning of a week when we normally had fewer customers, I didnÕt make anything at all and amused myself by sketching anyone who sat still long enough, but one night I made £600.

I cannot say I enjoyed my time there but at least it was better than being an enforced slut and I now had a room of my own in the staff section so I was away from the club girls for most of the day. At the end of my six weeks in a plaster cast, the hospital took it off and declared the bone had set properly. I wasnÕt wheelchair bound but walked with a limp which Megan said would go when my muscles got used to walking again. My life fell into a routine and I calculated it would be several months, more likely a year, before I paid off my debt so it came as a complete shock when Boss Wilcox called me into RoseÕs office. ÒLucy, pack your things tonight, tomorrow you will be going to Scotland. I managed to find a buyer who finally offered £5,000. We found Lenny Hobson and got £10,000 from him but he cheated us again and the old woman whom he tricked out of the full £20,000. She told the boys his whereabouts and they took the appropriate action. As far as we are concerned your debt is now paid but you are in the hands of your new owner, a Mr. Stuart Campbell, who bought you as a replacement wife.Ó

Few of the girls would say anything about him except one of the least friendly said, ÒYou may have seen him while you were in the dungeon. He buys an hour there when he visits.Ó That of course, had me extremely worried. Was I jumping from the proverbial pan into the fire? Would he expect me to be a wife to him in bed and in the kitchen? The answer to both questions was, yes. In fact he still had a wife, his third, but sheÕd left him months previously because she couldnÕt put up with his bad temper and demanding ways.

I didnÕt find that out until later but got an insight soon after meeting him. Rose introduced the stocky, balding man but he looked me over and said, ÒIs that what I paid five grand for? Daylight robbery.Ó Immediately I took a dislike to him and hoped that being out of the watchful eye of the security people here and with money in my purse, I would find an opportunity to escape. ÒBring your bags girl, I have a taxi waiting.Ó Without asking, he snatched my purse, opened it and took my earnings. ÒIÕll keep that in trust, although rightly it is mine as I bought you and that includes your possessions.Ó I broke down and wept and one of the security men assisted me to the taxi. My hopes for freedom faded.

In considerable pain from my not fully healed cracked ribs, I dragged my two suitcases with many halts across the station concourse. Stuart cursed my slowness and ignored my pleas for help or to get a porter. With only a small bag and my purse to carry, he could stride out. Only minutes before departure, we made it to the train and found the seats heÕd booked. Fortunately, because of our late arrival the guard assisted me on to the train. Hours later and a change of trains at Glasgow, I found myself at a small, unmanned station and for the first time he showed enough consideration to go and get his car and bring it to the station entrance.

Throughout the long journey northward we spoke little and IÕd spent my time debating my future. All I could see was being a drudge and chivvied to do menial tasks and provide him with sexual satisfaction when required. Well he could forget the latter; after what IÕd been through, I could survive what this man did and maybe find my money and get away. From the lonely route we took, I guessed transport would be needed if I were to get away. Eventually, after an hourÕs driving during which, I saw two cars and several tractors, we arrived at an isolated, quite large, stone farmhouse, my new home or, from my viewpoint, my new prison; a gloomy, eerie place after the well-lit and airy club complex building. Again I was forced to struggle with my cases up the stone stairs into the bedroom where I collapsed on the bed, holding my arms tightly across my chest to try and ease the pain in my ribs. ÒGet up you lazy woman. First you need to get into the kitchen and make a meal. Mrs. McAndrews will have stocked the fridge and pantry.Ó

ÒPlease let me have my purse, I still have some painkillers left in there. The doctor said I wasnÕt lift and heavy weights for several more months until my ribs were fully healed.Ó

ÒSo they sold me a invalid and I noticed you didnÕt walk properly. Just like those sods. Try to get every penny from you without pointing out the defects.Ó Relief didnÕt come quickly but I made my way back downstairs to see what I could find to cook, not that IÕd done much in the way of making proper meals. Nothing pre-packed in the fridge or freezer but plenty of fresh vegetables and meat. Half-an-hour later I was still trying to solve the mystery of getting the cooker to work, when he came down to see if the meal was ready. ÒDid you turn the gas cylinder on?Ó Of course I hadnÕt known of such things but he cursed my ignorance and my inability to get his meal ready on time.

I stood it for only a few minutes before turning my anger on him and made sure he knew that while he might think he owned me, I wasnÕt a slave to him or his desires. He almost laughed and stated that a dose of the tawse would soon change my attitude.

When I finally made the meal, we ate in near silence until at the end he commented, ÒThat wasnÕt too bad I suppose. Needed more herbs to give it a bit of flavour. Get cleared up here and then you can look through some of EmmaÕs cookery books for tomorrow. YouÕll need to learn to cook a decent meal because my grandson is coming in two or three days and heÕll want feeding as well. IÕll be in the parlour and you can bring the books in there.Ó

Taking as long as I dared to clean the dishes and the kitchen, I took two of the books into the parlour. In typical chauvinistic style, heÕd placed himself in a comfortable chair in front of the log fire with a glass of whisky at his side. My place was to one side and I found it situated close to the log box and it was my job to feed the fire. Glancing over the top of a cookbook, I tried to assess my new boss, or owner as he liked to think, as he sat reading a leather bound book. I estimated his age as late fifties, bit of a beer or probably whisky belly but probably quite strong, stronger than me, even if I was in the best of health. My eyes tried to focus on the pages but my mind drifted. Where would he keep my money? HeÕd put it in his wallet but I doubted it would be there now. Probably heÕd stashed it away while I cooked. Mrs. McAndrews must have transport to bring the food in; perhaps I could escape with her? Or maybe she was in on his schemes? Would his grandson be like him? Would I be expected to service both?

Bedtime came and he made it clear that I would be expected to perform properly as his wife. ÒGet yourself completely undressed so I can see what you are really like under those clothes. ÔIÕve waited long enough to have a woman here again and youÕre much younger than the last old bag I had so I hope you perform that much better too.Ó

ÒI told you earlier, IÕm not your wife, I am not your whore and while you can and no doubt will rape me, I will never give in to you willingly. I didnÕt to the clients at the club and I wonÕt to you.Ó

My vehement outburst stunned him for a moment but in a sudden move he threw me to the bed. ÒWhile you are in my house, you will do as I say or you will suffer the consequences. I didnÕt pay for some sassy women to defy me. Now get those clothes off before I rip them off your body and youÕll have one less dress to cart around.Ó I decided on discretion and undressed and allowed him to look and finger my breasts and genitals but I did so without showing any interest or response. His playing with my clit caused dampness in my vagina but my juices didnÕt really flow. I watched him shed his clothes and turned my head when he thrust his prick at my face. A slap to the cheek made me face him.

ÒThe last person to make me suck him, ended up in hospital having it sewn together.Ó I wonder if heÕd heard the true version. Apparently he hadnÕt.

ÒYouÕre not that bitch that bit old Wilcox?Ó I nodded. ÒChrist, no wonder they wanted to get rid of you.Ó At least he didnÕt tempt fate. ÒOpen your legs then.Ó When I didnÕt move, he yanked them apart and knelt between my thighs. Shortly after I felt his prick fumbling for my opening. ÒBugger it, youÕre dry but IÕm fucking you anyway. Got to get something for my money.Ó Eventually he forced it in and fucked for ten minutes or so before shooting his load in me. All the time, I did my usual trick of lying still and letting things take their course.

ÒWell IÕve had worse fucks but not much. Turn over.Ó Again he had to do it for himself while I tensed ready for the spanking I knew IÕd have to endure. It hurt and caused me to cry out but by club standards it was quite mild. He fucked me again next morning but he only complained at my performance and insisted that I better improve before bedtime that night. I didnÕt and received a longer harder spanking. I lay awake for a long while planning my escape. My plans were forwarded when, because it was a bright clear day, he took his shotgun and went walking over the moors. This gave me an opportunity to search for the money and to see what else was in the house that might aid me. I noticed the bedroom opposite ours had a bed ready made up so I assumed it was the grandsonÕs and wondered how often he visited, but I didnÕt find anything of real use except a map that showed a walking route over the hill to a fairly main road.

I thought IÕd made a pretty good job of following the recipe for a meat pie but again he sort to criticise my effort and seemed surly and angry at everything I did. For the time being I let it roll over me but I knew I could expect another hiding if I didnÕt fuck well enough later. It was worse than I anticipated; he wanted to fuck my arse, something IÕd only done while unconscious. I refused. Cunningly, he waited until I was undressed and expecting our usual vaginal intercourse before turning me over and attempting to enter me anally. My struggles and kicking were quickly subdued but I continued to shout and scream until I felt the pain of a strap across my arse. ÒYes, itÕs time you met up with the supple leather of a good Scottish tawse.Ó He brought the tawse down again and I renewed my screams even though I knew no one would hear them, or so I thought. The beating went on and I passed out but he waited until I came round and continued until my screams started to become hoarse. Neither of us heard the car arrive and the first thing I knew about the grandsonÕs arrival was when a blow knocked Stuart off the bed and on to the floor, dragging me with him. Stuart started to rise but a blow to the chin laid him out.

Gently the visitor picked me up and carried me to the bathroom and started filling the tub. ÒHello, IÕm Ian Campbell, who are you?Ó

ÒLucy,Ó was all I could manage. The man, much taller than his grandfather, had a rugged appearance but a gentle manner. I tried to stay awake, not knowing anything about the man, but all he did was to speak quietly and let the water ease my pain. It did little enough.

ÒLeave her! SheÕs mine, I bought her!Ó Stuart, dressed only in a robe, stood in the doorway, his shotgun pointed in our direction.

ÒTake her then.Ó To my surprise Ian stood to one side and allowed Stuart to enter. My opinion of him immediately slumped. It was a ruse. Stuart hadnÕt got two feet into the bathroom when Ian, now alongside him, grabbed the gun and twisted it from his grasp. A tremendous explosion filled the small room when the gun went off and shot peppered the ceiling. I shut my eyes and when I opened them again, Stuart was once more on the floor.

ÒStay in the bath and soak for a bit Lucy, while I put Grandpa out of harms way.Ó He soon returned. ÒIÕve locked him in what used to be the peat store, thereÕs just junk in it now but enough room for him. WeÕll sort out what is to be done in the morning. I doubt you feel like talking now. Let me see if there are any aspirin or paracetamol in the bathroom cabinet.Ó

ÒIn my purse, thereÕs betterÉ co proÉÓ I tried to get the words out but couldnÕt. Almost as if in an out of body experience, I remember being carried and put to bed. Shortly Ian lay beside me and cradled his arms around me. For once I was not afraid of being in bed with a man and somehow knew I wouldnÕt come to any harm. Awaking at some unearthly hour, I tried to get another pill but in a strange room and in the dark, I woke Ian. He put the light on, got me the pill and we talked quietly about ourselves. I found out that he was an amateur boxer in his earlier days and was now an author of architectural books. He expressed his disgust at the treatment IÕd been subjected to and found it incredible that it could occur in the 21st century.

ÒI like to come out here for the peace and quiet when I want to think about my next book or where IÕm going with the current one. I knew Grandpa was a tyrant because thatÕs why Grandma and his other wives left him, but I didnÕt know he was as bad as this. You canÕt stay here any longer and I cannot keep him locked up forever in that tiny room. Would you like to come back to Glasgow with me? I have a tenement house and you can stay a few days or longer if you wish until you find your feet and you can stay without restrictions. You wonÕt be forced to have sex with me, although I wonÕt be revolted by the prospect. I may even be able to introduce you to people who can use good artwork. No promises there but IÕll do what I can. Someone needs to give you a helping hand after what youÕve been through.Ó

We didnÕt get to sleep again but made an early breakfast and prepared to leave. I didnÕt dare sit on the hard chairs in the kitchen and wondered how I would fare on the long journey to Glasgow but IÕd been through enough pain so I could put up with a little more if I was to be free of it for good. With IanÕs help, I packed my belongings, stole a pillow for the car seat and checked StuartÕs trousers for his wallet. Contrary to my earlier assumption, my money was still there. I took what was mine and left the rest. ÒYou should take it all,Ó Ian said, ÒHeÕs very wealthy although to most he wouldnÕt appear so. HeÕll die and the banks will reveal his savings. Doubt if IÕll get any after this.Ó I still only took what was mine.

Ian released Stuart when we were ready to leave. ÒStay away from us Stuart or the police will be informed, or worse for you, weÕll let Boss Wilcox know.Ó We didnÕt hear from him again.

Three months later and IÕm still living with Ian and making enough money to keep myself although, I am now his Ôsignificant otherÕ. True to his word, Ian gave me my own room and only came in on the second night when I had a nightmare. Holding me until I calmed down, my eyes opened to see his face inches from mine. Without a thought, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. ÒTake me to your bed Ian please,Ó I whispered and that is where IÕve slept ever since. We make love regularly and I respond with considerable ardour but he knows not to ask me for a blowjob.

Finis