Sold, Packaged, and Shipped

Chapter 16: Rude Awakening

Chapter 16: Rude Awakening

Both bodies jerked against the seatbelts. Two pairs of eyes opened wide in shock. A moment later Darlene’s head was jerked back against the seat and a strangled scream came from her mouth. Melinda spat out the golf ball and howled in pain. Her upper body twisted from side to side in desperate effort to free her arms so she could rip that horrible thing out of her sex. Her legs were thrashing around, kicking the fine leather of the seat in front of her.

He allowed them to enjoy the sensation for a full two seconds – very long seconds for them – then let go of the button.

“Welcome to Harcourt Lodge,” he said to them formally.

Melinda was glaring at him, panting and still shaking her upper body. “What the God-damned hell are you doing…” she began to curse. He lifted the control unit so she could easily see it. Her mouth clamped shut but her eyes continued to proclaim her feelings. Darlene did not move but her eyes clearly reflected the fear within.

The seatbelts were unhooked and the women pulled from the car and made to stand before their new jailers. Their capes were taken off and tossed back into the car. They were studied from head to toe, by the woman with a slightly amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and by the man with no emotion showing.

“Very nice,” the woman said. “Very nice.”

“They are a right fair looking pair,” he said. “You know, the Master said that they are mother and daughter.” He didn’t realize that the Master had lied about the true relationship.

“Oh…!” The redhead licked her lips. “That is interesting.”

Addressing the two bound women, he told them, “My name is Angus. However you will never call me anything but ‘Sir.’ Is that clear?”

Darlene mumbled something. “Ah, you still have your golf ball. You may spit it out.” She did, and worked her jaw for a moment as if it had grown stiff.

“I repeat: do you understand?” he said.

“Yes, Sir,” Darlene said. Despite his lack of visible emotion, she was very much afraid of this man.

“And you?” he said to Melinda.

“Yeah, I understand.”

“Good. This is Susan. She is my wife. You will address her as ‘Mistress’ at all times. There are only a few other rules you need to know. Escape is impossible; nevertheless, attempts will be punished severely. Resistance to any order will be punished. Speaking without permission will be punished. Any attempt to harm any person here will result in serious punishment. Failure to please your Master will result in punishment. Fail to please either of us, should you be ordered to do so, and you will be punished. Do you see a pattern here?”

Melinda only glared, but Darlene said a weak, “Yes, Sir.”

Susan was openly smiling now. She seemed to be delighted at the rebellion shown by the younger slave. That should have been a clear warning sign to Melinda but she missed it totally.

Lacking the capes, dressed only in a blouse, panties and boots, and out of the warm auto, both slaves were aware of the cold Scottish Highland air. It made them shiver – along with the dire prospects for their future.

“You, what is your name?” he barked, pointing to Melinda.

She told him.

“And yours?”

“Darlene... Sir.”

“Very good. Melinda has twice failed to address me as sir when she spoke to me. For that, you will be punished.”

Without further warning, he pressed the button. Both women jerked. Twin cries of distress echoed within the garage. There was fire in Melinda’s eyes as her face contorted with pain. Darlene gasped, cried and fell to the concrete floor where she double up into a small ball and trembled as she whined.

Melinda looked for a moment as if she wanted to charge the pair before her, but instead turned and took a step over to the Rolls where she began banging her hips against the rear fender.

After three bangs, the button was release and Melinda collapsed to the floor, gasping.

“Strange,” he commented casually. “None of them has ever done that.”

“Notice how much it looked like she was humping the car?” Susan asked. “Maybe pain turns her on!”

Susan went to Melinda and helped the girl to her feet with surprising gentleness. “Did that big, bad Angus hurt this little slave?” she asked in a tone as if speaking to a child. When Melinda was standing, she unbuttoned the front of her blouse and opened it up to reveal a fine pair of breasts. “Oh, my, aren’t those nice ones?” she cooed.

Angus said nothing. He did, however, step up to Darlene and take her blouse in his hand. Not bothering with buttons, he simply ripped the blouse open. “Yes, as I expected, much the same,” was his comment. He might have been comparing a batch of apples instead of two sexy women.

“Follow Susan into the lodge,” he told them, then, when Melinda looked as if she might refuse, he simply held up the remote control. She grimaced and whined, but stepped after Susan when she started out. They were led out of the garage and into a large building they could hardly see in the rainy mist. All that registered was that it was two stories tall and seemed big enough to qualify as a mansion rather than a lodge. The rain was cold against their bare breasts.

Inside, their books made clacking noises on the stone floor. A brief glimpse of a kitchen and then they were going through a small door and down stone steps that were both steep and poorly lit. Once again they found themselves having to step carefully because of the high heels and lack of hands to hold the wall. As with the Harcourt mansion in the south of England, there was a dungeon below ground; a cold, stone-walled, windowless place designed to dampen the spirits of those kept within. There were, at least, electric lights, so their path was not illuminated by flickering torches. Form follows function, they say, and this dungeon was no exception. There was a main room with a modicum of furniture, mostly storage cabinets and a few chairs. A couple ancient looking wooden doors led off from there. They were halted in the center of the room.

“What say we put ’em in the ice box?” Susan said as soon as they were standing side by side.

“The Master would not like it if they were to catch a sniffle,” came the reply.

“But it’s so nice to see them shivering and turning blue.”

“Perhaps you could make yourself useful by taking out the Shock Eggs?” Angus suggested.

“Can I whip them a little afterwards?” she asked as she went up to Darlene, pulled her panties down, and began working at the knot holding the rope around her waist. It was only with difficulty that she managed to work it loose, and then she was tapping the inside of her legs to get her to spread them. Darlene did, and a few seconds later the rope was off. She had expected to hear that horrible egg fall to the floor but nothing happened.

“It doesn’t want to leave!” Susan said cheerfully. “Guess we can leave them inside the girls. Can I have the control thingie?”

“Squat down.” Darlene was surprised for a second by the command from the man, but then realized that it was the most practical way to get that damned thing out of her. She squatted, a bit awkwardly because of the high heel boots, and tried not to feel embarrassed by the movement. A little effort on her part and the egg slowly came sliding out. Susan caught it before it fell on the floor.

“These things are expensive,” she said as she showed it to Darlene. It was put on a cabinet to one side.