Chapter Seven

 

Plans Are Put In Motion

 

Four days after their previous meeting Mr Speers called at Miss Newcombe’s cottage. He looked Sally over with approval as she deftly served them tea with a gentle clink of her slave chains.

‘Well, you seemed to have tamed this one,’ he observed. ‘I heard she was quite a vagabond.’

‘All it took was a firm hand,’ Miss Newcombe said. ‘It’s remarkable what you can achieve with a girl with the right kind of encouragement.’

Speers did not see the corner of Sally’s mouth twitch with a suppressed smile.

‘And if this bondslave educational project went ahead you would permit the boys to use her?’ he asked.

‘With proper supervision, of course.’

‘Of course. Well I’ve already had several replies from those parents I mooted the idea to. ‘

‘That was very prompt, Headmaster.’

Speers smiled with evident satisfaction. ‘The proposal seems to have struck a chord. Broadly speaking they are all in favour. They agree it’s a progressive idea and a very proper way to complete a young man’s education. In fact I’ve had unofficial word that the younger brothers of two of our current pupils, whose parents were thinking about sending them to Gradleigh, will be coming here instead. So I think we can go ahead with the trial this term and present it as a full part of the curriculum for next year. I’ll be talking to the other masters about incorporating elements of this new strand into their courses wherever possible, and of course we’ll have to adjust the timetable to allow for some bondslave lessons, as I suppose we’d better call them, if you’re still prepared to take them?’

‘I am, if you’re willing to let me.’

‘I think you are the best qualified member of staff. If you just can give me an outline of what you propose to teach the boys beforehand. The parents will want to be assured it’s all quite proper.’

‘I’ll start work on lesson plans right away, Headmaster. I hope the other masters will not object to giving up some of their teaching time for this new venture.’

‘I’m sure that once I explain the reception the proposal has already received they will understand its importance to the school and make the necessary sacrifice.’

‘And we can house the girls in the old stable block as I suggested?’

‘I think there will be no problem with that.’

‘I looked it over after I had Jackson and his friends clean it out and I’m sure it will serve very well. In fact, with your permission, I’ll talk to them this evening and we might look at it again and make some plans. I said how enthusiastic they were about the idea.’

‘You seem quite keen yourself, Matron,’ Speers observed.

‘That’s because I do so want Cranborough to flourish, Headmaster,’ Miss Newcombe said with feeling. ‘I expect great things from our pupils, but they must be fully rounded. Learning how to handle bondslaves will give them that extra degree of self-confidence. It’s the kind of thing that makes the difference between success and failure.’

Speers smiled. ‘I’m sure it will. As long as you can provide the bondslaves. Matron.’

‘Oh, I know where I can put my hands on some quite soon.’

 

When Speers had gone, Sally asked: ‘Is this the right time for Amber to come back, Mistress?’

‘I think it is. I’ll inform the boys when I see them later. They must be ready to slip out tonight as we agreed. ‘

‘I’m glad. I don’t like keeping Amber down there like that.’

‘It’s been necessary. You helped her create this myth of a gang of slave thieves. Now you’ve both got to live with the consequences.’

 

Amber had just spent what was probably the most wretched time of her life in the cellar of School Cottage. By comparison her spell in the local jail or as the boys’ prisoner had been bliss. How had she got herself into this situation?

She was lying naked, hooded, gagged and gloved on her coarse sacking bed. Her wrists and ankles were cuffed together and chained to the same side of the wooden frame so she lay on her side as if she was sleeping. Except that she had got very little sleep these past few days, though she did have some terrible dreams. Perhaps she was dreaming now?

The sting had gone from her willow wand lashing but the latticework of welts still ached and throbbed. The rough heavy cuffs rubbed her wrists and ankles, making them sore. Her unpadded bed and the chill of the cellar did not help. Nor did the fact that she was filthy and she stank. Her coarse sacking bedding smelt of stale sweat and of old sperm and girl juices. She itched and could not scratch herself properly. Her hair was greasy and she dared not think what she looked like. Yet although her physical misery was considerable it was companionship she missed most, whether that of a fellow slave or even a jailer.

Sally fed her, flushed her out after she had served one of the boys, sat her on a bucket to relieve herself and wiped her bottom afterwards, but she was under strict instructions not to speak. When one of the boys slipped down to the cottage to use her for his pleasure it was a precious distraction to have a young hard cock inside her and an orgasm was a brief escape from her misery, even though they were each as brutal to her as Miss Newcombe had ordered them to be and added to the bruises around her vagina and anus. But the worst thing was, also as ordered, that none of them spoke a word to her either. When the weight of the thrusting young body was lifted from her and his cock pulled out of her sopping passage she was alone again with only the hot trickle of his sperm dribbling out of her to remember him by.

That was what was driving her mad. It was a form of sensory deprivation. How she longed to be back in the old stable loft at the school artfully manipulating the boys into gathering a harem of girls while conniving in the details of the next means of abuse and degradation they were going to use against her. That had been such weird fun. Maybe she was back there and this was a dream?

How long had she been down here? Miss Newcombe had only said a few days, but how long was that exactly? If she had wanted her to appear to be genuinely miserable then it was working. Perhaps it was working too well. Had they forgotten her? Amber began to moan and sob and pull at her chains. She had to get out of here. Please, somebody, please rescue me! I’ll do anything you want. Please… please…

 

Ahh! Amber jerked awake to find she was being lifted onto her feet off her filthy bed. There were people moving about her and hands manipulating her flesh. Yes, please touch me, she thought. I’ll be so good.

The bottom of her hood was lifted and her gag loosed enough for the tin rim of her drinking mug to be pressed against her lips. She drank it down. It was refilled and she was made to drink that too. Then she was re-gagged and hooded.

Her wrists were pulled behind her back and the chains were wrapped about her waist and the ends clipped together. Her ankle chains were crossed upward between her legs and the ends wrapped above her knees and clipped tight, forming a kind of hobble.

A rope leash was tied about her neck.

She was led up the cellar stairs and out through the back door of the cottage. She felt cool night air on her naked flesh that made her nipples crinkle while the scent of dew-damp vegetation filtered through her hood. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted. They passed through the garden gate, tramped across long grass, plunged through what felt like a gap in hedge and were off into the woods.

Amber stumbled along at the end of her leash for what seemed like an hour, blindly, trustingly following her captors. When she had to climb over a fallen tree or ford a small stream they slapped her legs to get her to step as required, but otherwise they did not make a sound. Of course it had to be the boys yet she could honestly say she did not know that for sure. This might be the night the mystery slave thieves broke her out of jail. In fact, she decided, that was what it was and she was being led into the unknown. Yes, that was how she would tell it.

Finally, panting for breath, with her legs scratched and muddy, they came to a halt. Wherever they were there was no sound suggesting any human habitation was near, only the night squeaks and rustles of the woods.

There was a swish of twigs followed by a few scrapes and thuds from nearby. Then her captors took the leash from her neck. They undid her chains and pulled them away from her body, dragging her arms and legs wide. What were they doing?

With a sudden simultaneous jerk her feet were pulled from under her and with a stifled yelp of fear she fell backwards onto the rough grass. The chains round her ankles tightened and she was dragged across the ground, old twigs and leaf littler scraping the welts across her back and buttocks and clogging her bottom cleavage. Then the chains about her wrists tightened, pulling sideways, twisting her arms across and behind her body and she was flipped over onto her front. Again she was dragged across the ground, whimpering as her sore breasts and nipples ploughed through the grass and dirt.

Twice more they did this, dragging her across the ground and adding a layer of local dirt and grass stains to the grime already clinging to her body. Then they hauled her onto her knees and made her shuffle forward through some low opening into a confined space.

She was twisted round onto her back and laid down onto a rough fabric. She was back on her stinking sacking bed with its restraining frame! They must have carried it here at the same time as they brought her.

They chained her spreadeagled to the bed frame. Then she heard a rustle of clothes and the weight of a boy’s body pressed her down into her crude bed while his cock rammed into her aching vagina. She was receiving a farewell fuck from her captors.

When they had all finished with her they dropped a piece of sacking over her sore and filthy body as a rough blanket. There were shuffles as they withdrew from whatever space she was in, followed by a rustle and crack of twigs that suggested branches were being moved about. Then all was still.

At some time in the early hours the pressure in her bladder became too much and Amber wet herself and hot urine soaked into her filthy bedding to mingle with the other stains there. As abject misery descended upon Amber once more she started to cry softly.