Chapter 5

 

During the night Erica was given unexpected medical attention, bathing and dressing her wounds with uncharacteristic gentleness. The male doctor and the female nurse who attended her made comments about her condition, told her what to do, tended her carefully. The one thing they did not do was ask her opinion about anything.

Erica assumed, for safety’s sake, that she was not allowed to speak to them either. She wished they would gag her or something, because it was natural to want to speak and required great self-discipline to stay silent.

In the morning the doctor’s visit was accompanied by another silent girl, a pretty blonde who could not have been more than eighteen and who was dressed, as expected, in her uniform of just underwear and stockings. She pushed a trolley containing coffee, croissants and a selection of cereals.

‘I’m permitted to ask if you prefer tea,’ the girl said, before adding, ‘and you’re permitted to answer.’

‘No, coffee’s fine,’ she told the girl, who quickly turned to leave.

Erica’s natural instinct was to ask who she was, but she swallowed the urge quickly. She watched the girl retreat, her eyes drawn to where the thong disappeared between her buttocks. She needed to know whether the other girls received beatings on a regular basis and how severe they were, but there were no recent marks on this pert derriere. But to her surprise, then mounting horror, she noticed something else.

On the lower part of the girl’s right buttock she could clearly see the number 42 etched into the skin. The girl had been marked with a permanent tattoo to remind everyone that she was nothing more than property.

Erica felt nauseous. Would that be her fate too, or had this just been to punish another rebellious inmate? She wanted to bury the thought, to run, to escape, to pretend this was not happening. But she knew this was no dream, the imprints of last night’s pain saw to that. So she had to know, had to ask.

Erica struggled from the bed, wincing as the movements stretched her tortured skin. The nurse looked up, glancing at the open door, ready to move if she made an attempt to escape. But Erica was too exhausted to even think of that. She got off the bed and sank to her knees, lowering her head and placing her upturned palms on her thighs.

The doctor faced her. ‘You want to ask something? Speak.’

‘That girl, the one who left, has she been tattooed?’

‘Yes,’ he said, totally matter-of-fact.

Erica swallowed hard. ‘Will I be too?’

‘Of course. All the girls are.’

Erica felt the nausea overtake her. From somewhere deep inside the contents of her stomach rose. She went dizzy, her body convulsing.

‘Quick, get her to the bathroom,’ he told the nurse. ‘Hold onto it, put your hand over your mouth.’

Erica knew his concern was more for the carpet than for her. But she held on until she made the bathroom, sinking to her knees and heaving into the toilet while the nurse held her shoulders. She felt cold, her skin wet with a slick of fresh perspiration.

‘It’s not so bad,’ the nurse said to her.

‘Have you had it done?’ Erica had to ask.

‘Camera off,’ she called out, waiting for a few moments before speaking again. ‘No, but I’ve been there when it’s been done.’

‘Why are you all so cruel?’ Erica asked.

‘Money and power, that’s what it’s all about.’

‘What is this place?’ Erica asked.

‘It’s better that you don’t ask questions like that.’

Erica sat back on the floor as the nurse handed her a towel. ‘When will I get done?’

‘When they decide.’

‘You’re not one of them, are you?’ she asked.

‘I’m an employee here,’ the nurse told her. ‘So no, I suppose I’m not one of them.’

‘How do you put up with it?’

‘It pays five times what I could earn anywhere else, that’s how.’

‘What do your friends and family say?’

The nurse looked nervously around. ‘I don’t tell them. I’m sworn to secrecy. Even my husband doesn’t know what I do; he just thinks it’s some secret government job. If I told anyone… well… I won’t. Quiet now,’ she said hastily, as though she had already said too much.

‘Please tell me, who are they?’

‘Politicians, judges, doctors, film and TV people… anyone with enough money to keep the place going. Now quiet. Camera on!’

The nurse helped Erica to her feet and back out into the room, where the doctor waited. The nurse helped Erica into bed, clipping a chain between her collar and the bed-head.

Erica lay back and tried to sleep as the nurse and doctor left the room. Whoever was watching cared enough to dim the lights.

 

Erica’s sleep did not come easily. Every time she moved she felt a stab of pain, and even when she did doze she would have terrifying nightmares of men and women with tattooing implements, and two numbers that when held together made her number – 51.

Other people attacked her with whips and lashes. Every so often she would see her mother or stepfather in the background trying to get through the lines of people, but never able to make it. In her dreams she called out to them, but every time they got close she was pulled further away. She awoke with a scream, trying to sit upright but immediately pulled back by the chain.

She had no idea how long she had slept or what time it was. Within a few minutes the door opened and the nurse was back, accompanied by a blonde woman pushing another trolley of food. She was dressed the same as all the others, but was older, at least in her mid-thirties. Erica’s eyes darted to her bottom as she turned. Just below a line of fading purple stripes she could make out the number 6. She waited silently as the nurse checked Erica over, and then left.

‘We’re allowed to talk,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m 6.’

‘I’m 51,’ Erica said, cursing herself for not being stronger.

‘You should eat, you need strength. There’s enough for both of us. I’ll set it on the table.’

Erica ruefully fingered the chain at her throat. ‘I can’t, unless you have a key.’

‘Er… no.’ The woman smiled, then looked up at the camera and sank to her knees in the required position.

Nothing happened. The woman waited. Several minutes passed in silence. Eventually the loudspeaker’s cold voice rang out.

‘You want to ask something, 6?’

‘May 51 be unlocked, Master?’ she said. ‘So we can eat at the table?’

‘Yes. Set the table. Someone will come along with a key.’

The blonde got to her feet and smiled. ‘See, it’s easy if you know what to do.’

‘You’re the sixth one here?’ Erica asked.

‘That’s me. There’s only one girl who’s been here longer, number 4.’

‘What happened to the others?’

‘Sold, I imagine,’ she replied. ‘Obviously I’m not attractive enough.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ Erica told her. ‘You’re really lovely.’

‘Thank you. But for whatever reason I’m still here.’

‘How long have you been here?’

‘I wish I knew. With no newspapers, TV, or even clocks, it’s difficult to tell. I’d guess between six and ten years.’

‘What?’

‘It’s not so bad. I didn’t have that much of a life before and here I get all my meals, all my clothes, a roof over my head, sports facilities, the best medical attention… pretty much anything I want, really.’

‘Except your freedom.’

‘I’m not unhappy,’ she said simply.

‘Don’t you miss your family?’

The loudspeaker’s voice immediately came on. ‘Don’t answer that, 6. You have no family. You have no past.’

6 shrugged and smiled.

Just then the nurse returned and unlocked the chain connecting Erica to the bed.

‘What about the sadism?’ Erica asked when she had gone and the door closed again.

‘I do as I’m told. The only beatings I get are when people get off on beating me. Some of the Masters are very generous. Some are quite gentle too.’

Erica had a feeling this woman had been planted on her to sell the place. If she was for real she had given up on freedom, on liberty, on life itself. If she was mid to late thirties and she had been here for the time she suggested, then she could have had a husband, even children.

Yet Erica knew she would get no answers that would be permitted. And she had no desire to inflict more pain on the woman. She ran through the idea in her mind. What if she did have children and one day she was just taken away and told to pretend they did not exist? And what about the kids themselves? Were they still out there, searching for their mother?

‘Do we ever get to see daylight?’ Erica asked.

‘Yes, if you want to. We have exercise in the grounds.’

‘Why don’t you escape?’

The woman cast an uneasy glance at the camera above the bed, which had moved across to point right at them. She waited; expecting to be forbidden to answer, but no sound came from the speakers.

‘Nobody escapes.’

‘Change the subject,’ boomed the loudspeaker.

‘Yes, Master,’ 6 said quickly.

The loudspeaker boomed out again, its deep male voice resounding into the room. Whoever was monitoring the conversation was clearly getting bored. ‘Both of you stand in the centre of the room. Face each other.’

6 was quickly in position. Erica took longer, still finding movement an effort, especially when she had been still for a while. She moved to stand facing the older woman.

‘51, slap her. Across the face.’

Erica could not help herself. ‘What?’ she exclaimed.

‘You heard. Slap her.’

Erica hesitated. The woman looked blandly back at her, devoid of any emotion. ‘You’re taking too long, 51.’

Erica raised her hand, unsure of what to do.

‘Stop, 51,’ said the loudspeaker. Whatever games they were playing, Erica was grateful not to have had to carry it through.

‘6, you show her,’ said the voice from above. ‘Slap her.’

Erica hardly had time to take in what had been said before the woman struck her hard on her left cheek. Her hand shot up to cover it as she cried out in pain.

‘Again.’

6 pulled Erica’s hand away from her face and slapped again, then returned her arms to her side as if nothing had happened.

‘See how it’s done, 51? Now slap her, unless you want more yourself?’

Erica did not want more. She wanted to scream out, ‘Haven’t you hurt me enough?’ But she knew her words would be wasted.

The woman stood waiting, looking into Erica’s eyes. Almost imperceptibly she nodded. ‘Do it,’ she whispered. ‘Do it, there’s no way you can’t do it.’

So Erica slapped her, the noise echoing round the room. 6’s head jerked to the side and she yelped, making the blow appear harder than it had been.

‘That fools no one, 6,’ said the male voice. ‘You’ll be punished for that later.’

‘Sorry, Master,’ she said.

‘Silence, 6. Stay still. 51, slap her again. And make it hard unless you want another public flogging.’

Erica did her best to turn off her emotions. She reached out and slapped, hard, turning the woman’s cheek white, then red.

‘Again.’

Erica slapped again.

‘The other cheek. Backhand.’

When she had struck she knew that one had hurt, bringing a tear to the woman’s eyes.

‘Again.’

Erica slapped again.

‘6, slap 51.’

Again the older woman’s movement was fast and accurate. Erica was well aware what the mystery man was after – getting them angry so they would strike out in revenge. She wondered how many times her opposite number had been through this and how many times in her uncertain future she would have to.

‘Again.’

Erica kept her arms by her side as 6 struck. She resolved not to cry.

‘Backhand.’

The blow sent her spinning, almost knocking her over, but she turned her face again to await whatever was next.

‘Stop now. Discuss this.’ The speaker went silent.

‘I’m sorry I hurt you,’ 6 told her.

‘Me too,’ Erica replied. ‘Was that to make us angry, so we’d fight?’

‘Possibly. Possibly just to show us how to obey. I’ve learned to do that. There’s no way you can win. Fighting them just gets you more pain and humiliation. Obedience is better.’

‘Just how far would you go to obey them?’ Erica wanted to know.

‘As far as they told me to,’ came the simple reply.

‘What if they’d told you to really harm me?’

‘Then I would.’ She paused. ‘I’ve nothing against you, 51. It’s just survival, that’s all that matters.’

‘And if they ordered you to remain still while I really harmed you?’ Erica asked quietly.

‘I’d fight. Like I said, it’s survival.’

‘I just want to cry.’

The blonde took up the kneeling position quickly.

‘What is it, 6?’ came the male voice.

‘May I comfort her, Sir?’

‘You may.’

She rose and put her arm around Erica’s shoulder, encouraging her to lean into her and cry. Erica allowed all the emotion to flow from her until her tears ran onto the woman’s breasts to be soaked up by the bra she wore. The blonde made comforting noises as if she were cuddling a child. ‘All right now?’ she asked.

Erica nodded and sniffed. She even managed a smile.

‘I’ll get you some tissues.’

Erica watched the blonde go to the bathroom and press the button. The door swung open for her to enter. Moments later she brought tissues back to hand to Erica.

‘51, stand,’ the voice said again.

Erica wanted to shout back, to fight, to say, ‘Leave us alone!’ But she knew it would be futile. She was too weak and too hurt to resist, so she stood.

‘6, kneel.’

The blonde dropped to her knees in front of Erica.

‘Instruct her, 6,’ the voice said. ‘Tell her she must obey, no matter what.’

‘Yes, Master,’ the kneeling woman said dutifully. She looked up at Erica, softness in her eyes. ‘Just obey them, 51. It’s stupid to fight. You’re too weak. Just do what they say.’

Erica nodded.

‘Well, 51?’ questioned the speaker.

‘Yes, Master,’ she conceded.

‘Are you going to do as instructed?’

‘Yes, Master.’

‘Good, 51. Now, without hesitation, slap 6 as you were told before.’

Erica did not dare think. Erica struck out.

‘Again.’

She slapped again.

‘Harder.’

She slapped harder.

‘Again, harder.’

The blonde looked up and nodded. Erica slapped her again. She fell sideways from the force of the blow.

‘Stand, 6,’ the voice commanded. ‘51, take off her underwear. Do it now.’

Erica moved to the blonde, avoiding her eyes as she unhooked the bra and slipped it down her arms, dropping it on the bed before sliding the thong down her legs and off.

‘Lean over the foot of the bed, 6,’ the voice told her. ‘51, go to the second drawer, you’ll find a number of riding crops. Select one.’

As the blonde moved to the bed Erica chose a crop. She had no knowledge of what was severe and what was gentle, so she picked at random.

‘Stand behind her, 51.’

‘Yes, Master.’ Erica knew this scenario. She had already been on the receiving end.

‘Six on each buttock, 51. If I even suspect you are being lenient you’ll keep going until I’m satisfied. However many over and above six I have to allocate, 6 will do back to you. And I can assure you 6 won’t be in the least bit lenient.’

Erica heard other male voices chuckling before the microphone was clicked off.

‘Just do it,’ the woman said. ‘You can’t afford to be soft, believe me.’

‘Silence 6!’

‘Sorry, Master.’

‘Proceed, 51.’

Erica knew she had no choice. And her conscience had been beaten out of her. If she did not whip 6 hard enough the treatment would go on longer and she would suffer more herself. She could not even think of suffering more herself. It was that selfishness borne of self-preservation that made her lash the crop across the woman’s buttocks until she screamed and cried, and to her shame Erica realised she had not even kept count.

‘Stop now, 51,’ the speaker called. ‘We said twelve and you’ve delivered fifteen already.’

Erica threw down the crop in disgust and went to check on her sobbing friend, who turned to face her, their arms slipping around each other in comfort. Erica’s thoughts were no longer her own. She had inflicted terrible punishment on this woman without any regret at all and now, driven on by some kind of warm passion she could not even begin to understand, their bodies were pressed together, wanting contact. Erica turned her face to 6 as, by some mutual sixth sense, the two melded into an open-mouthed kiss, with Erica giving just as good as she got.

The woman’s arms were around her waist, pulling her in, uncaring about the stinging in her bottom as she sat on the bed, pulling Erica on top of her, their lust for each other overtaking all external sensations, yet each knowing their surrender to their own debauchery was being watched by the observers on the camera.

Uncaring, Erica slid willingly downwards, repeating what she had learned with Emily, wanting to give this woman pleasure after the pain and unsure whether there was a difference. The men had driven her to this and she bitterly hoped they enjoyed the spectacle.

But even that was to be denied her. ‘Stand, both of you.’

Erica sighed. So did 6. They stood, breathing hard, coated in slick perspiration.

‘Time to leave, 6. 51 needs her rest, needs her strength back. She’s to be marked on Friday.’

‘Oh God,’ Erica cried.

‘Yes, Master,’ the blonde said, picking up her bra from the bed and moving to get her thong.

‘Leave those. Leave everything. Just go.’

The door swung open. 6 dropped the clothes where she stood and walked out of the door without a glance back. The door closed behind her, shutting the world away once more.

‘You did well, 51,’ said the same gruff voice. ‘Now eat, and then get some rest.’