2477 AD
GORD


Part One of the 2477 AD SAGE

CHAPTER ONE
PRELUDE

A harsh regime for females one might think but then, without a thorough
knowledge of England's past few hundred years, one might be excused for
reaching such a conclusion.
In fact, it was women themselves who had been instrumental in the loss
of rights so painstakingly earned over the centuries. The rise to equal
status early in the second millennium had also given rise to a female
crime explosion as the women joined their male counterparts in the
burgeoning crime wave. The gang rape of men became a commonly reported
event on the daily newscasts.
In addition female activists were also flexing their muscles. With
increasingly louder voices of protest, these self righteous bigoted
women steadily began to make inroads into the male dominated hierarchy,
and their male counterparts found themselves steadily being backed into
a corner as their number increased.
By the year 2183, new laws by a mainly female government were being
pushed through the statute books. Laws designed to protect women's rise
to power and maintain the self acclaimed moral standards demanded by the
blinkered variety of female. As usual, it was the wrong type of person
who arrived at the top. They were the loudest mouthed, most self
opinionated types, instead of the silent intelligent thinking majority.
The first of those Laws was in effect to ban prostitution, and increase
the law to allow severe punishment for anyone caught engaging in such
activities. Strangely, the female inspired laws were far stricter on the
women, than on males. Perhaps this was
because the female law makers felt that their own gender were debasing
their image. whereas men who were now considered inferior were expected
to act with base animal instincts.
For a while the law seemed to work; but it was an illusion. The
disappearance of prostitutes merely meant that they operated with a much
lower profile to avoid detection.
Going underground was a disaster for the business. With such strict
penalties for breaking the law, few professional women dared to go for
medical check-ups for fear of being diagnosed as having a sexually
transmitted disease. As a result, AIDS, the scourge of the century,
reached epidemic proportions. By 2220, the estimated figures for
infected people was in the region of 19 million in Britain alone.
Reluctantly, the then All Female Government decided to act. The decision
they had to make was unpalatable to them, but needed to bring about an
effective control of the situation.
Prostitutes were to be accepted as a reality and be government licensed
in order to control their activities. Unlicensed prostitutes, if
caught, faced a stiff sentence in a government Social Adjustment Centre,
a new word for the old-fashioned prison training centre. Once
incarcerated, the unlicensed women were trained in Government Standard
Procedures for the trade of prostitution, and eventually after attaining
a certificate of competency, were licensed as LPGs (Licensed Pleasure
Girls). Unlicensed prostitutes were granted an amnesty. provided they
reported for training at one of the less severe, voluntary units. But
soon word got round that these units were little better than the
adjustment centres, and as a result, many freelance girls risked capture
and continued anyway. After all they had little to lose either way; the
end result would be the same!
The government tried to retaliate, and a new law insisting on a Licensed
Pleasure Girl uniforms was passed. The state uniform consisted of white
silk blouse, ultra short, skin tight black PVC mini skirt, seamed net
stockings with suspenders, (tights were outlawed) regulation stiletto
shoes of not less than five inch
heels. This they felt would enable vice officers to spot nonlicensed
girls with far greater efficiency.
It was typical government gobbledegook. Within a few months unlicensed
girls were enjoying a new freedom from detection wearing black market
supplied uniforms.
In desperation, the government brought in the dawn to dusk curfew for
all licensed prostitutes. Arrangements had to be made in daylight and
they were to be indoors by dusk. This way any Pleasure Girl spotted
after dark was instantly whisked away by the UPGS. (Unlicensed Pleasure
Girl Squad later shortened to the Unlicensed Pleasure Squad ‘UPS’).
Governments never learn by their mistakes! The NPGs (Nonlicensed
Pleasure Girls) reappeared within days, dressed in ordinary, everyday
clothes and making it difficult to separate them from other citizens.
AIDS figures passed the 20 million mark and an emergency session of
Parliament was called. Panic was taking hold and rational thought went
straight out the window when an all night discussion session produced
emergency act No A/664/2220. No woman between the ages of 14 and 50 was
allowed to walk the streets during the hours of darkness unless
accompanied by a husband or relative who could vouch for them. Indeed,
proof was required by the male to authenticate his connection to the woman!
Up until that day, the women ministers had enjoyed overwhelming public
support at elections, mainly because the female population outnumbered
the males in the region of two to one. But now things began to go wrong
for women’s power takeover.
The introduction of the prostitute laws had been welcomed by the
do-gooder female population and many narrow minded people. Uniforms had
ensured that these women could be instantly separated from the so called
normal, upstanding women who liked to think that these professional
ladies were a lower life-form. But the new law stripped that dividing
wall away. All women were classed as potential prostitutes now in
the eyes of many, with the exception of a privileged few who were
immune to any sort of harassment as a perk of their position in society.
Election time produced a landslide swing towards male candidates and
at the end of the day, women’s hard earned rights,
fought for over hundreds of years, were eradicated at a single stroke.
A week later, an all male government sat down in the House of Commons.
It was a jubilant time for all males. Women had engineered their own
downfall and in fact left a legacy of laws that a male government could
exploit to the full, ensuring that women never rose to power again.
However, the problem of AIDS was to remain for another two years, until
a miraculous mistake in a French laboratory produced a vaccine that
provided instant immunity. It even destroyed the AIDS virus in
patients near death.
During those two years, however, the battle against the NPGs had
continued with a vengeance. Training centres increased the severity of
their techniques to try and frighten the girls into giving up their
lifestyle, but produced only a more violent resistance trying to avoid
arrest.
As a result several officers in the UPS contracted AIDS from bites, and
the Tasser Gun came into being, closely followed by the infamous Ringer
Frame.
The Tasser gun was the brain-child of a German scientist, and the device
fired a low velocity dart up to a range of 50 metres. The dart contained
a micro-miniaturised miracle of electronic wizardry that produced a
non dangerous, high frequency pulse of energy: sufficient to disrupt all
major neural functions in anyone it hit. However, it was not a strong
enough pulse to disrupt the major vital organs of heart and lungs.
Result; total paralysis for up to five minutes!
This was sufficient to allow officers to approach the stunned NPG, but
still left them open to risk of infection once she
recovered. Handcuffs were of no use. The NPGs knew of their fear of
infection and would do anything to drive off their captors.
Gerald Ringer, MP for Derby-Metro south, came up with the answer. A
simple bar device with snap fit padded cuffs in two pairs mounted either
end of the six inch bar. A further attachment was a brank affair
attached to one end of the device, with a sliding adjustment. The steel
brank was basically a copy of a medieval device used to torment Witches.
Once inserted into the mouth, it not only prevented coherent speech, but
could be expanded so as to force metal spikes against both the tongue
and the roof of the mouth. Its original concept was as an instrument of
torture, but now it served another purpose most efficiently. With mouth
spread wide to tearing point, an NPG had no chance of inflicting a bite
on the arresting officers and it provide easy access to the oral cavity
for packing if complete silence was required.
A stunned NPG would be quickly turned on her face with the arresting
officers wearing rubber gloves for added safety. Her wrists were brought
back and snapped into the cuffs at one end of the bar, then ankles were
drawn back and up and quickly snapped into the other pair. The brank was
inserted in the mouth and the slider adjusted to draw the head up and back.
It took mere seconds to reduce an NPG to an arched, helpless bundle,
easily handled and transported in complete safety by using the six inch
bar as a carrying handle.
A later, modified version incorporated two additional cuffs at the elbow,
which were adjustable and could be drawn tightly inwards; also added was
an adjustable waist band, plus an expanding knee spreader carried as a
separate item on the officers belt and used at his discretion to reduce
the NPG to total immobility.
It became a common sight to see an arrested woman being loaded into a
UPS transport secured in such a way. Sometimes a group of NPGs would be
zapped as the Tasser technique had
became known; in which case several of these secured, spitting fuming
bundles of feline ferocity could be seen left to await pickup by the
roadside.
No one would help them for risk of infection, and they could be left for
hours without a UPS officer being there if the force was busy. Even
other NPGs would ignore their plight, and in fact tended to gather
around these pathetic, trussed caches to ply their trade. For one thing,
it was reducing the competition; another was the fact that the UPS team
having cleaned out the
section, would leave this area alone until the pick-up much later on
Some NPGs noticed Ringer'd women who had ousted then from their patches
in the past, and they would take advantage of their helpless plight
to taunt them: in some cases even tightening their terrible
Ringer-frames to excruciating levels before leaving them as a quivering
arched bows of packaged, impotent fury. Often, returning pick-up teams
would find an unpopular, Ringer'd NPG with the letters SS or SO/B daubed
in lipstick on
their forehead, a suggestion by her rivals as to what form her training
should take
Initially, it was a departmental joke when these suggestions were
accepted, but later it became normal practice to adopt the street wise
NPGs freely given advice sooner than incur extra paperwork categorising
the women themselves. Nowadays, it was quite normal to see NPG's
publicly condemned by former colleagues to a horrendously rigorous
re-training. Often they were humiliated even further by being left with
their skirts pulled up and a flower or some other object protruding from
their exposed bottom. Even children who had latched on to this fun game
could decide an adult woman's fate with a mother's borrowed lipstick,
leaving the luckless NPG to lie fearfully, wondering what letters had
been written on her forehead!
So the Ringer'd NPGs would wait, and when a transport was available it
would go round the streets loading the various caches of helpless NPGs
like a dust cart collecting rubbish. In
fact, the transport had been developed from the same vehicle. The bin
lifter on the front had been modified to accept three Ringer'd NPGs at a
time and would lift them straight over and into the storage bay behind.
A full pick-up transport was not a pleasant experience for the
unfortunate captives. Fifty or sixty secured bodies piled in a wriggling
heap provided a rather traumatic form of transport
Once in custody, all the unfortunate women would be tested for the AIDS
virus with a new system that could identify any known sexually
transmitted disease in seconds. If the test proved positive on AIDS, the
struggling woman would be left on her frame and de-animated for storage.
Initially, it had been mooted that infected NPGs be disintegrated in the
now redundant death penalty molecular disintegration units, but this was
considered to be unjust. A fairer solution was felt to be the
de-animation units which would keep these women deep frozen for as long
as it took to find a cure.
Even when reduced to a frozen block, the logistical problem of storing
20 million de-animated females stretched the prison service to the
limit. As a result, privatised long-stay storage units sprang up in
every town, almost over night. They were capable of maintaining hundreds
of thousands of these frozen women at very little cost. These
establishments were known as Turkey Units by the street wise NPGs. Even
in this condition the government and various private storage companies
saw a way to make profits, and most Turkey Units were open to the public
at a small charge.
It was quite normal for whole families to spend a Saturday or Sunday
browsing through the huge sheds, studying encapsulated frozen females
and discussing the various, displayed attributes of each still form. The
notes and personal details attached to each exhibit made exciting
reading. They were explicit and listed amongst other things, vaginal
size and elasticity, including useable internal length of cavity ditto
anus, ditto oral cavity; even estimated previous penetrations
of each orifice and estimated serviceable life expectancy! Further data
included known specialist experience in deviant sex, breast size and
weight and flexibility ratings attained during extreme bondage tests. In
fact, one ex-circus contortionist was literally tied into a ball by her
own limbs. The only recognisable attributes still visible were a well
exposed pair of love-lips perched on top of this ball of female flesh,
which appeared to have been frozen in an inverted mode. There was much
more, in fact more than enough to warrant regular visits without any
risk of boredom.
The educational section was always well worth a visit, for here, the
frozen exhibits, some dating back over a hundred years, were arranged so
as to provide anatomy instruction and sex education to classes of
youngsters.
Invariably, these Turkeys would have their lower openings stretched
hugely open by mechanical means and then be arranged with the resultant
display towards the glass front. In this way pupils were able to study
at length the innermost secrets of womanhood. 
It never occurred to anyone that these poor unfortunates had suffered
years of humiliating exposure, alive in thought, and captive in a frozen
body as their deepest, most intimate secrets were discussed and
photographed. The burn of children’s mocking giggles never diminished,
and each new class was a new round of humiliation.
Perhaps even worse than anatomy display, were the sex education
displays. All were fitted with monstrous facsimiles of the male organ
inserted into one or the other of their orifices; some depicted deviant
sex, with all three openings fully occupied.
Teenagers who formed the main body of pupils brought to these exhibits
seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of how to best insult and
humiliate the helpless: women with their lewd and
suggestive comments. Young girls were often intimidated by other male
scholars by being dragged forward to a particularly offensive and
degrading cubicle, and promised that unless they
allowed themselves to be screwed, they would be recommended for such a
future use.

The young girls would stare with terrified eyes at the froze1 obscenity,
then agree to do what they must.
Little did they know, that it doing so they were already writing the
final chapter that would guarantee that they ended up in a similar
situation!
The women lucky enough to be found free of disease on arrest could look
forward to a government retraining program and eventual licensing by the
state. Some would return to the streets, and others would be purchased
by rich, influential people who needed a plaything. It wasn’t a matter
of choice. Anyone arrested as an NPG had given up the right to freedom
of choice by being caught!


CHAPTER TWO
SUPPRESSION

The AIDS threat was over, and the numbers of reported cases were
dropping rapidly. The government, however, despite loud protest from
women’s rights groups, kept the present laws in operation. The pretence
was that until AIDS had reached a zero figure, the population was still
at risk.
Years dragged by and the protests became ignored as a boring ritual
carried out by a few die hard fanatics. Slowly the emergency laws and
the apprehension of female transgressors became an accepted way of
life although AIDS had long been totally eradicated. Male domination was
back to stay, and women had taken a 1,000 year backward step.
The threat of being labelled as an NPG kept many a difficult woman under
the thumb of her husband. It was rumoured that hundreds of women had
been deliberately thrust out into the street by angry husbands when the
UPS were in the area. They were never seen again.
Virtually all female law-breaking resulted in the accused being sent to
a SAC (Social Adjustment Centre). But few if any ever reappeared after
their sentence to resume normal life. They just simply ceased to exist,
and nobody ever bothered to ask what had happened to them.
The SACs became highly automated, a necessity brought about by the high
turnover in inmates. Receiving Stations; the places were NPGs were taken
first for identification and processing, were models of efficient
activity. 
The techniques for handling Ringer'd NPGs were streamlined into an
impersonal, machine-like operation run by a f males and tough,
no-nonsense females.
An NPG input as it was called, would be swiftly identified, or not as
the case may be; registered, cleansed and categorised before being
stored to await the next court session. This in itself was a formality.
Enter the doors of a receiving station as a Ringer'd NPG and it was all
over bar the shouting.
The suspect stayed Ringer’d throughout the proceedings, naked and
suspended by her bar mounting running on a transport rail in the centre
of the court. Her testimony or defence was considered unnecessary, so
she would be left branked as the arresting officer read out the evidence
to the court.
The Judge would declare sentence, usually within two minutes, and press
a button that put her suspension rail into motion. This sent the guilty
prisoner into the depths of the receiving station and aligned the next
accused before the court in one smooth operation.
And so it was that women became a subjugated section of the community.
They lived in fear of the SACs and served their male partners with an
almost dog like devotion to avoid being dressed in an obviously forged
LPG outfit and pushed into the street some dark, cold night.
Three hundred years of honing and modification turned the government run
SACs into a major industry with only the most modern and efficient
equipment to handle the continual influx of new recruits and recycled,
miscreant LPGs. It was big business now. In fact, a major part of the
economy was financed by the earnings from state trained girls and, due
to the quality of the end product, it was a service much in demand
world-wide!


CHAPTER THREE
THAT EVENING

The hover-car whispered swiftly along Broad Street and Tammy Sullivan,
glancing out of the plexi-port saw a neat cluster of some ten Ringer'd
NPGs on the street corner. The UPS must be busy tonight she thought as
the car drew up at a traffic robot,
stopping with her window only feet from the trussed bundles of furious
womanhood on the pavement.
She looked down with an air of detachment and saw several faces looking
hopelessly up at her, begging for help. One was a stunning blonde of
exceptionally attractive proportions; probably a product of a
restructuring unit. She ignored the blonde’s pleading eyes and turned
away. She was just another miscreant on her way to recycling.
Serves the silly bitch right, she thought. If she wants to sell her body
she must expect to be treated like a piece of meat. She felt a slight
amusement at the fact that she was attired in virtually the same outfit
as those trussed bundles on the pavement. Her clothes varied only in the
fact that her top was a boob-tube of white lycra material, instead of
the standard issue silk blouse. It had annoyed her that her costume was
not perfect, but it was near enough for a fancy dress party. She'd
decided at the last minute to go all the way, and had left her knickers
off. This was usually a thing that only a NPG or LPG would do. Any self
respecting female would never stoop to such a level of depravity.
Her decision had been inspired by a sense of adventure, after all it was
a fairly stupid thing to do, ‘dress up as an LPG, for even licensed
girls were prone to random snatches and the possibility
of retraining if they didn’t meet the required standards. But as it
happened, her husband James had made the risk worth while.
Unable to resist her tarty image and knowing that she was unpantied and
ready, he'd stopped the hover-car on a lonely lane and given her a good
shafting before they continued to the party. It had been a nice
experience, something to break the normal routine of bedroom fun and games.
Tammy reached out and touched her husband's knee for reassurance, and
James turned to look at her as if feeling her unease at seeing the NPGs.
He looked ridiculous in that Tarzan outfit, and the sight of him wiped
away her fears and replaced them with laughter.
James smiled and then turned to look forward as the hover-car slid
smoothly away from the robot.
She slid down into the seat and luxuriated in the new, nonmaterial air
cushion supporters that were replacing conventional seats now. But as
she did so her mind ran back to the demanding restraints on those women
at the robot. She couldn't help wondering what happened after they were
hoisted into one of those hover-jets and whisked off to the receiving
station.
They arrived at the party, and James was lucky, there was parking space
only yards from the door. The hover-car settled down and they climbed
out. Tammy looked around nervously as he locked the car, feeling even
more vulnerable on that darkened street because she was wearing such a
costume. James took her arm and she knew she was safe as long as he was
with her. They moved to the front door and where greeted by their old
friends, Sally and Bill.
Ushered inside, formal greetings were exchanged, then James was soon
hustled away as Sally and Bill eagerly pumped him for information on the
new business venture he'd launched. Tammy turned as if to go to the
ladies room and check that her face was immaculately made up in the
tarty manner required to match her costume.
Damn! She'd left her vanity bag in the car. No matter, she'd just nip
out and fetch it. The finger print locks on the hover-car were
programmed to accept hers as well as James’.
She opened the front door and skipped quickly to the car. Within seconds
she'd retrieved the bag and was on her way back to the house. She pushed
at the door, but it refused to budge. The security locks had dropped
automatically as the door had swung shut.
She tapped on the door and waited.
Suddenly, a bright red spot flitted across the wall then disappeared
behind her. She only had time to half turn before the laser guided
Tasser dart smacked into her bare shoulder.
There was a feeling like a small electric shock, and then she felt
herself crumbling to the floor. Shock flooded her system as she realised
that she'd been zapped by the UPS patrol, and she tried to shout that
she wasn't an NPG. Nothing happened, her limbs and mouth were frozen in
neural disruption. —
There was a thump nearby as a jet-packed UPS trooper landed, then she
saw the polished calf boots in her limited vision. Frantically, she
tried to speak as she was turned over onto her front, but her jaw and
throat simply refused to move.
Roughly, her arms were drawn behind her and a rasping sound came to her
ears as the ratcheted clamps snapped around her wrists. Now her legs
were drawn up and snapped into the other restraints leaving her hog-tied
in a strenuous bow. Elbow clamps soon jerked her arms tightly together.
Callused hands opened her jaw and an evil smelling, well used brank
entered her mouth. The device rasped shut and was adjusted painfully
tight around her head. Even without movement. she could already feel
the nasty spikes pressing her tongue down and touching the roof of her
mouth. Her head jerked backward, and more rasping sounds reached her
ears as her metal encircled head was drawn painfully back by the
adjusters. With a final flourish the Trooper snapped the waist
band shut and jacked her knees apart with the leg spreader. A hand swept
up between her wide spread thighs and mauled her naked, vulnerable
crotch, still wet and sticky from James’ earlier attention. The trooper
grunted as if satisfied.
Now he stood back, and with her face forced upwards from the bowing
effect, Tammy saw his arm rise as he spoke into his wrist communicator.
“She's in the bag. Co the hover-jet crew.
Tammy felt a jerk, and with a feeling of terror, watched as the smirking
trooper dwindled to a dot below her. Soon she was way above the
buildings and turning slowly on the chromed steel hoist wire. With her
head tensioned back, she could see the underbelly of the hover-jet
approaching, and noted that the
transport racks already had five occupants out of a possible eight.
The dizzying ascent slowed, and Tammy felt a bump as the transport rack
guides nudged her Ringer'd form into line. Clack!
Clack! The receptor clamps snapped shut on her Ringer Frame and she was
firmly held for transport.
She must have been the last pick-up, because instead of continuing its
predatory prowling over the streets in order to fill
the two remaining empty racks, the hover-jet swung away to the east end
of town.
Soon they were up to normal cruising speed, and Tammy shivered as the
cool night air battered at her scantily clad form. She was hardly
dressed for a one hundred and fifty mile an hour gale! The wind plucked
at her boob tube and Tammy was frightened that it would pull down under
the assault of the gale, but it held. Just! Then her worst nightmare
became a reality. The hover-jet turned into the wind as it began to line
up with the landing pad at the receiver station; the wind force
increased dramatically and Tammy felt the boob tube giving up the battle.
Suddenly, the cloth ballooned out as a gust of air made its way inside,
and in a trice the tube of material was whipped down to her waist. Tammy
began to cry. She struggled with her returning functions, but it was
pointless.
She was going to be delivered to the receiving station dressed as a
Ringer'd NPG and with her boobs out and swinging in full view, legs
spread wide, and the rucked-up mini skirt barely down to her hips,
leaving her pussy open to view and dripping with the last dregs of
James’ liquid seed.


CHAPTER FOUR
RECEIVER STATION EAST

The hover-jet zoomed down to the landing pad, and within seconds was
settling onto the static ion repellers that would hold it five feet off
the ground. The station crew sauntered out wheeling transport trolleys.
They hardly looked at the hanging, Ringer'd NPGs but, instead, were
arguing amongst themselves about the recent controversial score in the
recent laser-match between Bir-Metro and Wolves-Tigers.
Tammy was at the front of the racks and so was unloaded first. She tried
to protest but the brank spikes rapidly convinced her to keep her mouth
still. Tears of frustration streaked her cheeks as she was lifted down
and suspended on one of the two wheeled trolleys, then she was held
waiting as another NPG was loaded onto the trolley of her porter's friend.
Side by side, the two women swung gently on their frames as the men
returned to the station and wheeled them in front of the waiting desk
sergeant at reception.
For the first time Tammy saw that her co-Ringer'd NPG was the blonde
from the street corner. Obviously, she was one of the last two left
after an earlier pick-up; which was the reason she'd ended up as the
part load brought in by Tammy's hover-jet. She cast a guilty look at the
woman realising that she had treated her with something less than
compassion as she'd stared scornfully down at her from the safety of
their hover-car.
The blonde made a slight movement of her head as if to waive Tammy's
expression of regret, then grimaced as the brank taught her the wisdom
of keeping her head still.
Tammy was the first input from this consignment and, as the other girl
was left hanging, she was wheeled forward to the desk. She was parked
facing the sergeant and about three feet away. Whilst he carried on
writing, a uniformed woman moved forward pushing a heavy box-like
trolley with cables and gauges all over it. Tammy fearfully strained her
eyes around her as the woman disappeared behind her, but was unable to
see what she was doing.
She was, however, able to see the long line of filed NPGs now processed
and awaiting judgement. The filing system was like any other, except
that the filing cabinets were transparent plastic, and each drawer some
two-foot-six square.
As she looked she could see dozens of naked, Ringer-framed women hanging
on sliding rails inside the closed drawers; each
with the same look of resignation at the hopeless situation they were in.
A hand touched her body and, before she even realised what was happening,
a sonic scissor was slicing her clothes into strips,
which were then thrown into a pile on the floor by the unseen woman.
Tammy made as if to protest and gasped as the brank spikes jabbed her
into silence. Naked and helpless, she hung dejectedly.
Surely James had discovered she was missing by now and was
on his way to get her out of here? The sergeant looked up and addressed
the woman behind her.
“Identity?” Tammy felt hands and a cool scan instrument on her buttocks.
“None. No bar code,” the woman answered. Now Tammy felt cold
steel plates pressed against her shackled palms. Finger and palm print
scanners, she surmised.
“No record. Never been printed before,” the woman informed the sergeant
who scribbled JD against the input entry. JD stood for
Joan Doe, an ancient acronym for unknowns in the second millennium, and
now carried through into the modern times in the form of an abbreviation.
It didn't matter that her true identity would be known within a few
hours. As far as the state was concerned, she was now a nobody
“Check for previous form,” the desk sergeant instructed.
Tammy gasped and squirmed as a huge, cold shaft was forced into her love
tunnel. Then she cringed as a tingling burn ran up and down the inside
of her sensitive tube. Suddenly, she tried to scream as the scanner
probe expanded in her orifice and stretched her vaginal tube to
horrendous proportions; then lengthening, it touched the narrowing neck
of her fallopian tubes. She was being scanned internally and her
internal dimensions and flexibility checked for future reference..
“No record of previous scanning,” the woman informed the Sergeant.
“Traces of recent use indicated, heavy concentration
of male fluid in the vagina. Elasticity test indicates only light usage,
but definitely no scan record.”
“Better check the other,” the sergeant said. “She might be a deviant or
one of those clever ones who uses the back hole to avoid detection.” 7
Tammy arched against her restraints as the scanner tube
stretched her anal ring and bored deep into her body and carried out the
same procedure.
“No; nothing, she's clean. No scans on record, no disease, -
elasticity indicates virginal rectal passage. Reckon this must be
her first week at NPG work,” the woman suggested. The sergeant nodded. ;
“The arresting officers happy that she’s a legitimate collar?” The woman
nodded and read out the report.
“Apprehended whilst trying solicit trade by door to door vending.
Wearing forged LPG uniform. No knickers, and still wet from the last
client.” The woman recited the evidence in a matter of fact, monotone
voice. The sergeant nodded, obviously convinced
“Yep! That's pretty conclusive, might as well code her before the court
hearing. It'll save time afterwards. Enter the internal | scans on the
records and take a photo shot will you.”
Tammy's heart sank. The evidence against her was overwhelming and she
couldn't say a word in defence. Oh! James where are you? Please get here
before...!
Tammy strained again as the coder was placed on her buttock, and
instantly she felt the sharp pain as an invisible bar code of metallic
particles were traced into her tender flesh. The only mark that would be
visible were two blue dots to indicate the location of her government
classification. She was marked for life. Any Heliport scanner, shop
scanner or secret street scanner would now immediately recognise the
code by reading it through her clothes with remote X-ray eyes and relay
information of her whereabouts to CPDC (the Central Prostitute Data
Computer).
Now a high definition camera was placed behind her horribly spread
crotch and visual details of her pussy and anal ring recorded on film as
a secondary form of identification. From now on, the view of her pubic
region was available to anyone who requested a copy. For the paltry sum
of £880, even a member of
the public could obtain a full dossier of photo's and personal details.
“Skip the formalities and fit her with the implants after decom,” the
sergeant advised. “There's no-way she's going to be found innocent.”
‘Decom’ Tammy found out was decontamination. A clinical term for being
forcibly pressure washed and disinfected. Her Ringer'd form was wheeled
into a small, dark, windowless cubicle at the side of the reception,
barely big enough to contain herself, the frame and trolley. Before the
door swung shut and enveloped her in darkness she was able to see a ring
of high pressure washer jets mounted so as to be able to rotate around
her body.
The jets whooshed into action and Tammy screamed through the brank as
bar-like jets of hot pungent liquid daggered into her
body. Now they began to rotate around her, the searching fingers of
water boring into every nook and crevice. For five minutes she endured,
pummelled and pounded by the water, then the machine stopped and turned
her form through ninety degrees before commencing the same procedure.
Again Tammy strained and screamed in futile struggles, but no one would
hear. The decom booth was soundproofed for this very reason; and as the
searching jets found her exposed pussy and vulnerable anus, its
construction was tested to the full as her desperate, gurgling screams
rose to a crescendo.
No one in the reception heard a sound. That booth had decom'd upwards of
two hundred thousand women since the station was built, and yet no-one
working there had ever realised the trauma being experienced within. The
only visible signs that the cubicle was in use was the vibrating,
rocking motion normally seen
when a washing machine was on spin cycle, and the high pitched whine of
high pressure pumps.
The pounding jets stopped, and after several minutes Tammy saw light as
the door opened. Her trolley was wheeled out and placed over the
draining channel as she was left to drip dry.
screen.
“LPG/999564884-5569,” she read out to the sergeant. “Charge?” he said
not bothering to look up.
“Apprehended freelancing in the Holloway Circle,” the woman read out.
The sergeant’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise.
“Must have been one of those who got the faulty batch of implants back
in seventy-four. Decom her and send her down for re-implant with this
one before the hearing,” he said, pointing the electro-stylus pen in
Tammy's direction. Then he looked at her as if having second thoughts,
and Tammy's heart thumped with hope.
“No, let's stick to the book. Let the Judge send them down. McKinley's
on today and he’s a real stickler for the rules.”
The blonde vanished into the decom cubicle, and reappeared ten minutes
later dripping and traumatised, her pale skin now red and blemished with
the severity of her cleansing ordeal, and as she dripped alongside
Tammy, the sergeant completed her induction forms.
“What was she classified as after SAC,” he asked the machine operative.
“General Purpose,” came the reply after a glance at Video screen. The
sergeant jotted down GP against the relevant question.
“Okay! File them,” he instructed the porters, and Tammy found herself
being wheeled towards the plexiglass filing cabinets.
Her Ringer-frame was lifted from the trolley and located into two
sliding runners so that she was facing outwards and looking through the
transparent drawer front. The porter gave the drawer a shove and she
slid smoothly inwards until the drawer slammed shut at end of its
travel. Her surrounding filing space dampened some of the outside sound
but she could still hear the conversations around her. a
The blonde soon joined her in the neighbouring drawer and Tammy heard
the porter call out their file numbers to the sergeant for noting on
their papers. He would also be allocating a hearing slot in the court
proceedings.
Miscreant LPG/999564884-5569, filed as Row E Number 24. New input E-25
Being a new input, Tammy came in for a fair bit of attention from the
station officers, both male and female. She was constantly confronted by
leering faces peering through the drawer front at her suspended form.
When the sergeant wasn’t around, some even opened her file and squeezed
breasts or shoved fingers into her pussy. Her humiliation was complete. 7
Desperately, she prayed for James to rescue her from this terrible
nightmare.
The courts were busy, and Tammy and her neighbour were filed for nearly
twelve hours before the porters came to load them onto the court-room rail.
Slowly, as each case was heard, the Ringer'd pair advanced towards the
rubber swing curtains hiding the court from view. Tammy was first, and
as the rail advanced she found herself carried through the curtains and
stopped just inside ready for judgement. Ahead of her she could see
another NPG being judged as she hung directly in front of the Judge.
Suddenly, a sound from behind her. beyond the curtain brought a surge of
hope. It was James voice, desperate with worry speaking to the desk
sergeant.
“But surely you have records of her being brought in?” he was saying.
You must have noticed she wasn't an NPG.” Tammy frantically tried to
make a sound but was spiked into silence by the brank. She heaved at her
restraints in frustration, but was reduced to a pitifully arched bow as
a court official moved up to her and tightened all her ratchets to full
adjustment. The brank cage drew her head back even further, and her
knees were forced out almost to the point where her inner thighs were a
straight line as the spreader was wound out to maximum. A final twist on
the internal brank expanding screw and the court bailiff left her to
hang, quivering and strained to breaking point with the awesome tension
on her body. She could only listen in impotent silence to that voice of
help; so near and yet so far!
“Listen, Mr Sullivan, we've processed 84 NPGs tonight, and we simply
don't have time to vet everyone. But I can tell you this, I've had
seventeen years at this job, and I can spot a dodgy collar from a mile
away. That is, a false arrest,” he corrected seeing that James was
puzzled by the term.
“The only woman picked up in your area was most definitely an. NPG; in
fact they caught her only minutes after a client. There was no mistake,
she was dripping with the stuff when we brought her in and the officers
apprehended her actually touting for trade.”
There was a silence, and then with a sinking heart Tammy heard James
thanking the sergeant for his time before leaving to visit the next
station.
There was no time for further thought as the line jerked into ‘motion,
and Tammy found herself entering the arena of law, to hang suspended and
ogled by dozens of court workers both male and female. Her frame jerked
to a stop leaving her facing the Judge, and Tammy trembled as she hung
before him.
The Judge continued to write, paying no attention to the naked, trussed
woman hanging from the rail, and the Clerk of the Court knew better than
to interrupt the Judge's sadistic enjoyment, so he stayed silent and
indulged his own lustful fantasies as he contemplated the accused. Tammy
was left to wriggle pitifully under the exploring eyes of the whole
court until the Judge saw ‘fit to look up. She could feel the heat in
her wide-splayed crotch as a multitude of eyes feasted on her most
private openings, and although she knew it was hopeless: she still tried
to close her legs and hide her charms from view. The frame maintained
her humiliating display with effortless ease.
Five minutes later the Judge placed his pen carefully in the holder and
leaned back to appraise the next accused.
He was a sharp featured gnome of a man, who obviously enjoyed his work a
great deal. It was a fact that Judge McKinley was a confirmed male
chauvinist pig of the first order. Women should be kept in their place
according to his rules, subservient chattels to be used for the pleasure
of the male population. It therefore gave him great pleasure to see
their stringently restrained forms dangling before him and be denied
even the chance to speak in their defence. The feeling of power as he
read out the fate he had decreed for them was something else! His
judgments were based on his knowledge of the various government training
facilities open to him. After studying the Ringer'd woman, he would
decide her fate depending on what sort of situation he personally would
enjoy seeing her experiencing. For instance, a woman who glared her
hatred at him was assured of the most diabolical
re-training he could assign, designed to reduce her to a grovelling
subservient sex slave; but the woman who's eyes pleaded for leniency and
accepted his superiority, would often be sent to a centre for
re-training in the Lesbian arts. Here at least she would be treated more
gently.

In fact, Tammy was the kind he loved to deal with. Fresh new female
fodder for the state grinder. He listened to the charges but barely
waited for them to finish before putting pen to paper and consigning
Tammy to a life worse than death.
“Sentenced to be detained at a Social Adjustment Centre for indefinite
duration pending issue of certificate of competency,” he ruled.
Classification by the inspecting officer; implant authorisation
granted, effective immediately." The gavel came down.
“Next,” he ordered, his eyes lingering on Tammy's form as he savoured
the hopeless look in her eyes. He enjoyed the feeling of sentencing a
young, virile woman like this to a centre for the
first time, especially as he had the distinct feeling that she was a
‘dodgy-collar’.
He noted with interest the incredibly strained tensioning of her
Ringer'd form and made a mental note to complement the court bailiff on
his efficiency. He himself had instructed that any show of resistance in
his court was to be quelled by adjusting the frames to maximum
restraint. This new input was certainly tensioned to breaking point and
displayed in a most incredibly stringent manner; a most satisfactory
arrangement in his book. Probably a stuck up little society bitch a few
hours ago, he thought, but the humiliating spectacle she was providing
right now would certainly deflate her ego. He imagined the pinioned
young woman mounted on the training machines at SAC-94 and almost shot a
load into his trousers. He'd inspected that unit only three weeks ago,
and he had an intimate knowledge of the ordeal he'd just consigned her
to. Yes, she was certainly going to have a rude awakening. SAC-94 was
the newest of the
training facilities and boasted all the latest equipment for ensuring
obedience in the shortest possible time.
The line jerked into motion and the direction arranger on the rail
allowed her to swing back into the line of travel and away from the
bench. The lecherous Judge almost salivated as he watched her most
private openings come into view. They were tight and fresh; virtually
unused, almost virginal. But not for much longer, he thought, as those
delightful openings moved slowly away from his gaze. It was gratifying
to know that these previously untouchable and delightfully succulent,
sacred orifices would soon be forcibly invaded and stretched tautly
around various huge forms of mechanised, phallic training devices.
Tammy was carried through a curtain on the other side of the court
where, as the line stopped, she was lifted back onto a trolley and
wheeled to the implant section.
For a time she was left alone swinging on her trolley in the cool,
brilliantly lit, antiseptic surroundings of the implant room. Soon she
was joined by the blonde and a short time afterward by the Inspecting
officer. The officer was a huge, tough looking woman, well overweight
and heavily jowled. She walked around Tammy,
touching, prodding, prising her pussy apart and generally assessing the
new input.
She did the same for the blonde, but her inspection was much less
detailed for this well documented miscreant. Finally, she put down her
electronic clipboard and began to remove Tammy's brank. With great
relief the fettered woman felt the cruel device drawn from her mouth and
her first response was to try and protest her innocence, but the cramp
in her jaw only allowed unintelligible, garbled sounds which immediately
drew a warning from the Inspector.
“One more sound and I put a size two!” she warned. Then, turning to the
blonde, she removed her brank. The blonde, an experienced LPG, knew
better than to speak and remained silent as she flexed her jaw for the
first time in sixteen hours.
Tammy hung dejected and beaten as the pain-nuller hissed and her wide
open crotch became anaesthetised. She could feel the woman pushing
something into her pussy, and even felt the implant being injected below
the inner surface of her vaginal tract; but there was no pain. Now her
anal hole suffered the same fate as another implant was installed.
The Inspector moved to her face and anaesthetised her lower jaw, before
installing the final, third implant into the inner surface of her lower
lip.
The blonde took a little longer. It was necessary to locate her
defective implants and remove them before new ones could be installed.
Tammy cried silently as the Inspector busied herself with the blonde.
The implants were a safeguard against her freelancing and defrauding the
government out of revenue once she was trained.
A client would first use the scanner of his portable plasti-bank against
her code bar. Immediately, central computer would deduct his account of
the required amount depending on her classification. As soon as this was
done, her implants would be deactivated for thirty minutes. Failure to
do this would result in a violent shock from an active implant as soon
as alien body flesh was detected within the woman's cavities. This would
not only be very painful to the owner of the intruding illegal cock, but
also for the luckless LPG if she were being illegally raped.
If the customer required more time, he simply carried out the procedure
again and the fee was once again deducted, with a discount for bulk
purchasing.
The blonde must have made a fortune charging half price without her
clients using the plasti-bank unit. No doubt the government would come
down hard on her during re-adjustment.
The Inspector finished with Blondie, and her days of private enterprise
were over. Now began the long task of paying for her misdemeanours. _
The Inspector had picked up her board and was considering re classification on the blonde, then accidentally as she walked
around, she caught a buckle of her service uniform on the blonde’s thigh.
“Careful you fat cow,” blurted out the blonde as the metal dug into her
soft skin.
The Inspector walked around to her front with a grim smile on her face.
“Fat cow, huh? Let's see what this fat cow can classify a mouthy blonde
as.” The blonde blanched as she realised her mistake,
then began to plead as she saw the Inspector write FT/SS against her
code number.
“No! please I didn't mean it. Please, it just came out when you
hurt me, please not that. I'm begging you I'll do anything, but please
not that.”
The Inspector turned to Tammy who was watching and wondering just what
was so terrible about FT/SS.
“You wouldn't understand as a new input,” counselled the Inspector. “FT
is our term for Frozen Turkey; which is what Blondie here will be in a
few minutes; a deep frosted, not so mouthy, frozen turkey!" she said
emphasising the turkey bit. She raised an arm to speak into the wrist
communicator.
“Bring a de-animation unit to Implant, please.” She turned back to
Tammy. “Watch and learn before the same happens to you.”
Tammy took her advice and watched as the pleading blonde was re-branked
and adjusted to maximum tension the same as herself. Now, two porters
brought in a plexiglass cube on a four wheeled trolley and, after
opening a heavy, thick door in the front, they lifted the blonde from
the transport trolley and rehung her from a rail in the top of the
cube. The Inspector waved the men away and put her face close to the
blonde’s.
“Still a fat cow?”
The blonde tried everything she could with her eyes and some painfully
gained sounds from her mouth to gain forgiveness, but
the Inspector just swung the door shut and closed the pressure seal
latches.
She moved to the back of the unit which displayed a series of controls
and pipes, plus two compressed gas bottles. Making various settings and
adjustments, the Inspector preset the
cubicle for the required mode of operation before opening a valve on one
of the bottles.
A muffled hissing sounded, and Tammy could see the blonde
desperately struggling despite the awesome contortions demanded by her
Ringer-frame.
A white cloud of gas began to obscure the wretched girl from sight, but
was gradually replaced as a strange, almost silvery water began to fill
the cube, and the Inspector seemed pleased as she watched the insulting
blonde bitch slowly being sub-merged
until the liquid completely surrounded her form. The blonde
became rigidly still
Ten minutes elapsed and the cube began to empty. As the liquid uncovered
the blonde’s form the skin seemed to take on a translucent, sparkling,
pristine pink. Tammy stared aghast at the hard frozen, frosted bundle
that had been a warm, scented woman only minutes before. The look of
terror was frozen into
her wide eyes, and destined to remain so until she was defrosted and
re-animated!
The Inspector released the clips and slid the frozen blonde out on her
rail for Tammy to inspect in detail.
“Liquid nitrogen,” she informed her. “She's frozen down to about minus
196 degrees Centigrade; except for her brain that is That's protected by
an ion field in the cabinet. If anyone drops her when she's frozen like
this, she'll shatter into a thousand pieces.” To prove a point the
Inspector donned a pair of thick gloves then gripped a large chunk of
the blonde’s hair and snapped it off. It broke like an icicle. Now she
dropped it onto the floor where it shattered into millions of tiny,
sparkling pieces.
“But how can her brain stay alive without her breathing?" asked Tammy.
“Oh! there's enough oxygen stored in it to last her several days at
de-animated levels, but for long storage she'll be immersed in liquid
oxygen. It's easier to see them anyway once they're immersed, it stops
the plexiglass frosting up on the inside. Anyway, Blondie will find that
a bit warmer; the oxygen dip keeps her at minus 183 degrees.”
Tammy doubted that Blondie would appreciate the subtle difference, and
found that she couldn't take her eyes from the glittering, frost
encrusted form. Even her hair was solidly fixed and sparkling like the
distant pin-pricks of celestial bodies in a dark sky. The Inspector
rapped her knuckles on the blonde’s frozen breasts, then rocked the
blonde’s supporting rail dangerously as if she were going to topple
her and allow the hideously punished girl to smash on the floor. She
thought better of it, and instead chose to pick up a heavy metal,
surgical instrument and rapped it strongly all over her body. The room
filled with a ringing sound like that of steel striking stone.
“Solid as a rock. That'll teach the bitch to call me a fat cow!” She
gripped the solid turret of a frozen nipple. “I've a good mind to snap
it off,” she said angrily, then turned and picked up what looked like
the head-set for a personal, mobile music centre and clipped them to the
temples of the blonde’s head. Turning back to Tammy she explained.
“Whilst she’s de-animated, we can still program her brain. Impulses from
the head set can still arrange the thought centres although she’s
frozen, which brings us to the SS classification. Know what it means, sweet!
Tammy remained silent and unable to shake her head. “It’s okay, you can
speak,” the Inspector advised her.
“No, I don’t know what it means,” she said. Then stopped as she was
about to continue when the Inspector put a finger to her lips and warned
her about random talk.
“SS simply means super screw. She'll be re-programmed to offer herself
to any male in sight. And I mean offer herself! She'll literally jump
down onto her knees, stick her naked arse in the air and beg for men to
shaft her any which way they please. She'll wiggle it. wave it up and
down, play with herself; in fact do anything that may get the man
interested. If she does get lucky she'll work herself on him like a
demented jack-rabbit.” The Inspector stopped as she contemplated the
vicious mouthed
blonde after conversion, then continued with Tammy's instruction.
“The beauty of this system is, it doesn't affect any other brain area
other than the one controlling sex drive. Blondie here will be her
normal self with all the memories of the past, including insulting me,
even when she's throwing herself at the men and making a completely
degrading spectacle of herself. But she won't be able to do a thing
about it. She'll be compelled by forces she can't control to carry out
her programming.”
Tammy was stunned by the terrible fate to befall the girl she had seen
so pathetically Ringer'd only hours before on the street.
The Inspector slid the frozen turkey back into her personal deep freezer
and slammed the door shut. She bent forward and
switched the programming selector to SS before calling the porters back
“Fat cow eh! Let's see how she fancies being a permanent bitch on heat,”
the Inspector muttered.
“Long term storage.” she instructed the reappearing porters. “Eighteen
months duration and then send her to SAC-94 on completion with a
recommendation that she's sent to a male prison as recreation equipment
after re-training.”
The Porter's eyebrows went up as he heard the duration and looked down
at the SS setting.
“She annoyed you, Ma’am?” he asked.
“Yes, you could say that,” replied the Inspector with a satisfied smile.
She approached Tammy as they left and stroked her
buttocks with something akin to affection, talking, as she ran her hands over more of
the captive girl.
“I suppose you're wondering what that was all about? Well, the normal
duration for that re-adjustment is three months, but I want that bitch
to be reduced to a grovelling cock slave. In that prison there will be
upwards of three hundred men. I imagine she'll spend all her waking
hours with her fanny waving in the air. I'll probably drop in and see
her in about three years and see if she still thinks I'm a fat cow.
Maybe if she’s repentant I'll have her re-programmed.
“Incidentally, she’s fully aware of her surroundings at all times. The
freezer unit is specially designed to allow her brain to carry on
sensory functioning throughout, and her inner ears stay frost-free and
active. She was listening when I was talking; she'll know how long she’s
staying as frozen turkey.”
Tammy cringed as she thought of the girl's terror when the Inspector had
rocked her stand. It must have been horrific to contemplate herself
smashing like that as she hit the floor.
The Inspector walked round and looked down at Tammy's upturned face.
“I know you're just bursting to say something, and I like you,” she
said, reaching under to fondle Tammy's pendulous breast “Just this once
I'll bend the rules and let you speak my dear, then it’s off to the TP
unit, that’s the Transport Pod unit, for fitting into a pod.
Tammy burst forth with her speech almost before the Inspector had
finished, and the Inspector listened patiently as she told her story of
woe. Tammy finally finished and looked up fully expecting to be released
instantly.
The Inspector just smiled and slowly shook her head.
“Young lady, I've heard stories like that virtually every day since I've
been here. Even if it’s true it makes no difference now. You've ceased
to exist as Tammy Sullivan, you're bar coded and implanted. The state
will never allow you to go free after doing
that to you. It would cost them trillions in damages. Best you stay
quiet and say nothing; get on with your training and get the hell out of
that SAC unit. Kick up a fuss and they'll send you to RU, the
Restructuring Unit. After that you won't be a threat to them any more.
Without limbs and with voice box removed you'll be nothing but a silent
screwing bag.
Tammy was in tears by now and the Inspector moved over and gently
stroked her captive form to sooth her.
“Now! Now! you sweet little thing, don't cry; it won't do any good. Let
me see if I can classify you as something you'd like. Let me see, we
need more of most categories; more SS’, SO’s GP's; which of those
sounds attractive to you?”
Tammy stopped her crying and asked what they all meant. It was hopeless
to expect that she might be released, so she may as well take advantage
of the Inspector's offer of leniency.
“Well SS you already know about, but I don't think you'll want that. GP
is general purpose, which means you'll be trained to take a man in all
openings and service him correctly. You have to do GP basic anyway, but
if you're not finally classified GP no one can force you to do it after
training. No, I think SO may be
the one for you, although it's a bit of a gamble.” She stopped and looked
at Tammy's questioning face.
“Oh! sorry SO is Special Order; you'll be selected by someone and
trained in specialist techniques, The gamble is if someone selects you
for Whip-Girl training. Very painful that one! You will spend the rest
of your days as a whipping toy for some rich bastard. On the other hand
you could be selected by some doddering old fart simply to adorn his
hallway as an ornament; easy to do but very, very boring after years in the
 same spot every day.”
The Inspector pursed her lips and studied her captive with a thoughtful
look.
“Hmmm! Yes, I might just be able to swing something for you as a favour,
you lovely little thing, but it has its price. I get to use
you when I like if I can get my contact to buy you and have you trained.”
Tammy looked shocked at the thought of this huge Dyke having the use of
her body, and the Inspector sensing that she needed time to consider the
alternatives, left her alone to think whilst she went to talk to her
contact.
Tammy thought long and hard. The shock of watching the blonde reduced to
a re-programmed iced lollipop was still fearfully prominent in her mind.
In fact, she had a feeling that a thwarted Dyke Inspector might easily
be tempted to jot FT/SS next to her name if she refused to cooperate.
The other option seemed even more distasteful. The thought of having any
male who fancied her shoving steaming poles of hot flesh into any hole
they chose was repulsive.
The Inspector returned and from her look Tammy knew she'd arranged for
her contact to put in a bid for her as soon as she finished basic training.
“SO it is then, and I'm putting a notation that you've already been
provisionally selected for advanced bondage training.” Tammy cringed at
the word, but then reflecting on her present impossible contortion on
the Ringer-frame, she came to the conclusion that it could only get
better. A forlorn hope destined very shortly to be proved incorrect.
The Inspector beamed at her as she accepted the offer, and moving
forward, refitted the brank in Tammy's mouth. Speech was no longer
needed, the choice had been made. She tightened the brank adjusters and
expanded the internal brank to the level demanded by the Judge. Until
Tammy was refitted into a transport pod the Judge's orders remained in
force. In fact he'd just reinforced those orders and indeed updated them
as the Inspector had broached the idea of him buying this new input in a
partnership deal with herself.
Moving forward the Inspector tightened all the adjusters past the normal
full stretch position to the notches provided for exceptionally violent
miscreants, and Tammy groaned with the
strain as was forcibly contorted into a shape that was orthopaedically
impossible. Her thighs had eventually reached the straight-line
splayed configuration, and her heels were
nudging the back of her head. She looked questioningly, ; beseechingly
at the Inspector.
“Sorry sweetie, a request from my contact, your future owner,” she
advised, patting Tammy's contorted buttocks, but refraining from telling
Tammy that the Judge would be watching her being . transported to the
pod section and savouring her incredible : contortion, inflicted at his
bidding. 
“He wants you to start off on the right footing, and I must admit ; you
look very nice like that; so vulnerable and helpless; all nicely opened
up and available. Shame! You can't move a muscle, can you, you sweet
adorable thing? I can see you trying to close your little legs and hide
those lovely warm tunnels. Oh! I know; you'd love to be able to
struggle or shout and tell me to stop wouldn't
you; but I'm not going to let you, I'm going to keep you all nice and
tight.”
She was crooning over the helpless Tammy like a mother talking to a
small baby, at the same time her fat podgy hands were sliding all over
the trussed girl's body sending shivers of revulsion through the
captive's straining form.
“You know I'm going to play with you and you'd just love to scream for help wouldn't you? Lucky 
me, there's no way you can with that
brank.” She gave the expander another half turn for good measure, then
packed a wad of cotton wool around the brank and into Tammy's
horrendously stretched mouth. All the time she was crooning away as she
removed the last vestige of any type of resistance from her intended toy.
“It must be so embarrassing; so frustrating and humiliating to ss be
trussed up like that, and you not even being an NPG. I'm sure f that
you're telling the truth, and that only yesterday you were _ = a smart
young lady with no thoughts of where you'd be in a few hours. The
thought of what we're going to do to you must be appalling, and yet so
delightful for me.” She ceased her gushing
dialogue for a while and simply stood fondling herself as she surveyed
Tammy's still silent form. She disappeared from Tammy's vision, but the
captive woman could feel the gaze of the Inspector on her horrendously
displayed nether regions. The dyke re-appeared looking even more flushed
than ever.
“I get so horny just looking at you and thinking of all that impotent
rage trussed into a little tight bundle. I love the idea that I can do
anything I like with you now, and then just jot down FT on your papers
and freeze you into a turkey without you ever having the chance to tell
anyone. It’s such a pity I don't have a re-animation unit here, I'd keep
you like this for ever; take you out of your cube, defrost you and
have my play. Then I'd simply freeze you up again when I'm finished. You
would never have to come off that frame again because you'd no longer be
a women to me, just a nicely shaped ‘girl-thing; like one of those
blowup dolls the men used to use hundreds of years ago.”
The Inspector was enjoying the look of fear in Tammy's upturned face. It
was a well founded look of fear; for Tammy had just realised that she
was helpless and in the hands of a women with more than a few screws
loose. The Inspector didn’t even see her as a woman any more, she had
actually become a lifeless, blowup sex toy in her deranged mind. She
was frighteningly aware of her impossibly presented status without being
told, and right now she was praying that the loony fat cow didn't get
hold of a re-animation unit before she was safely out of her hands.
Nervously, she anticipated a new traumatic and unavoidable event as the
woman’s fingers ventured ever closer to her tightly clenched bottom hole.
Tammy strained in futile effort to try and avoid the impending violation
of her most private opening, and the Inspector frowned as she perceived
a slight movement in the severely arched body. Then, with an exclamation
of glee, the Inspector spotted an extra notch on the Ringer-frame,
probably never used before, and almost completely concealed by dust and
paint. She heaved at the adjusters and with a creak the frame tightened
still further. A muffled sound of utter defeat and anguish escaped
Tammy's wadded mouth. The Inspector patted
her hugely distorted and bulging rump, then thrust her finger .
forcefully into Tammy's rear passage. She yanked her finger ; sideways
to try and produce a violent reaction, but none came. ‘
The Inspector was pleased. Her agonisingly trussed plaything couldn't
even quiver; the only reaction to her painful abuse was
a high pitched keening noise from Tammy's flaring nostrils. Now : this
innocent, little society bitch ne taking whether she liked it or not.
“There now, isn’t that better now you can't move at all?” crooned
the cow as she smacked Tammy's upturned buttocks hard and ; twisted the
offered nipples painfully.
Tammy was reduced to the same level of movement as the i: recently
departed Blondie, and the sound she was capable of
producing wouldn't be heard more thana yard away; certainly . not
through the door.
For several minutes she was used by the sadistic Inspector as an
artificial arousal aid, and subjected to probing digital 
insertions in both her massively displayed lower body openings, in ‘
addition to a thorough breast mauling. Even the painful pulling : and
gross elongation of her clitoris failed to generate any ‘
discernible movement in Tammy's tormented body. Only her eyes were
capable of any signs of dissent, and the Inspector did her best to
produce as many pleading looks as possible to feed her own sadistic
pleasure. She seemed to revel in giving her helpless prisoner a thorough
spanking. Being originally of poor origins, it gave the Inspector
immense pleasure to spank this secured and previously privileged
debutante like a spoiled child. Burning, stinging slaps rained down on
Tammy's re-sculpted rear end, the enormous spreading of her legs causing
her nates to stick up as if designed to be abused. Tammy's eyes
swivelled frantically as she sought to convey her begging pleas for
mercy to her tormentor; but the Inspector was out of sight between her
spread legs and savouring the juddering, clenching image of Tammy's
scarlet buttocks as she continued her enjoyable chastisement of this
naughty girl.
Tammy endured the assault with snorting keening blasts of breath from
her nostrils; there was little else she could do until the Inspector
finally decided to stop. Even then, she was entirely unprepared for the
next task the Inspector demanded of her, and with her buttocks on fire
she watched fearfully as the Inspector moved over to the door.
Locking the door, the Inspector placed her uniformed figure directly in
front of her face, and with slow deliberate movements began to remove
her trousers and panties. Tammy watched in terrified silence, still
unsure as to what would happen next. She wasn't kept waiting long for an
answer.
The huge Dyke moved forward and removed the brank and wadding, but left
the restraining cage to hold Tammy's head in place. Putting the brank to
one side, she straddled the captive’s upturned face and lowered a huge,
wet, bulbous fanny onto the trussed girl's face. Tammy protested as
loudly as her cramped jaw would allow, and pressing her lips tightly
together, she made it painfully obvious that she had no intention of
muffing out the Inspector,
“Frozen turkey time! came the mocking sing song warning. Tammy shuddered
at the thought of being frozen solid for years in this painfully
contorted position. This dyke, if thwarted, would probably have her
stored on an indefinite basis. Eventually she would be forgotten when the
bitch found another toy and left her to gather dust in her own private,
frost encrusted hell.
Tammy's tongue flashed into the cleft and began to vigorously manipulate
the long, flaccid nodule of her tormentor’s clitoris.
Luckily, the fat dyke was already on the boil, and within seconds she
was humping and moaning, straining Tammy's neck as she used her upturned
face as a rubbing post for her wet, sticky pussy. The orgasm was
imminent, and Tammy worked her tongue furiously to bring a speedy end to
her suffocating envelopment between those wobbling, fat thighs. The huge
woman arched and shuddered, sending great waves of juddering motion to
the fatty folds on her legs; and then it was all over.
The Inspector pulled away and donned her discarded clothes; then
red-faced and still panting from her recent exertions she returned to Tammy and re-branked her, 
before issuing a warning
“You tell anyone when you're unbranked and I'll have you down as a FT/SS
before you know what's happened to you.” Tammy indicated with her eyes
that she fully understood the threat.
“There's a good little girl,” she said, delivering a final, stinging
slap to Tammy's glowing bottom. “As a treat for being good I'll just
leave you all nice and tight like that so you can enjoy some of the men
playing with you on the way to the Pod unit.” Tammy nearly cried as she
saw any hope of release from this torsioned torment dashed in a few words.
Eventually, almost wistfully, the Inspector called the porters and
saying her goodbyes to her future playmate, she watched as Tammy was
wheeled out still retained at the super-distortion level. Her parting
call of see you in a year’s time was sufficient to inform Tammy that her
training would not be a short term thing. In a way she was glad. The
taste of that woman's crotch was still bitter in her mouth.
She felt sheer desperation as she realised that she'd now been mounted
on this dreadful Ringer-frame since the moment she lost her freedom
outside the door of their friends house. Mentally, she cursed the long
dead politician who had designed such a humiliating device for the
demise of womankind, and died inwardly as she realised that the Pod
Section she was allocated to was on the other side of town. Along with a
dozen other Ringer'd girls, she was to be transported on the back of an
open hover-truck through the crowded streets. Blondie joined them in her
supercooled cubicle hell. She was to be dropped off at the long stay
storage facility, but perhaps one day they would meet again.
As she was loaded, Tammy noticed that her own body was the most
contorted and hugely displayed item in the consignment.
It didn’t bode well for her forthcoming enforced training as arranged by
her future owner.
The truck rolled forward and started the journey with its cargo of
misery. As it happened it stopped at the very same robot lights that
they had stopped at the night before and, as Tammy watched a
sophisticated, well dressed Aphrodite of the upper classes contemplate
her trussed form from the sidewalk with an air of superiority, Tammy
found herself unconsciously giving exactly the same look as that blonde
had when she looked up to the hover-car window. And, as she returned the
woman's stare, she tried to convey her thoughts.
‘Look long and hard you snotty bitch, because you could just as easily
be up here. One day you'll make a mistake and then it will be too late’.
Tammy would have smiled if she could, the image of that snooty woman
fully Ringer'd was something to warm the cockles of her
heart. Perhaps I'll see you again she thought as the truck moved off.
It would be three months before she saw the woman again, although she
barely recognised the Ringer'd snotty bitch when she did; nor would she
be surprised when the woman's uncooperative manner earned her an FT/SO
rating.
As the truck rumbled onward, Tammy sensed that she was being continually
watched but was unable to turn her head and find out. She couldn't see
the Judge's car following behind, nor did she know that he'd organised
for her frame to be loaded at the back so that he could have an
uninterrupted view of his future purchase on her way to the Pod Unit.


CHAPTER FIVE
THE JOURNEY TO SAC-94

The journey to Pod Unit 33 was reasonably uneventful, that is if you
didn’t count being parked in a cafe car park for half an hour whilst the
driver had lunch.
Groups of people gathered around the truck to discuss the Ringer'd
occupants. Tammy's exceptionally severe restraint ensured that she got
the lion’s share of attention. It was so humiliating to just have to
hang there, opened up like the pages of a pornographic novel and lent
out for viewing and discussion by other women. It was as if she was a
piece of meat in a butcher's shop. They went to the other side of the
truck and she could hear them discussing the intimate details of her
body openings; some even making laughing suggestions as to what could be
inserted in them apart from the obvious male organ. One remarked that
she looked remarkably tight and unused for a semi-professional NPG, and
Tammy felt a spark of hope. They might decide to investigate this
anomaly further. Her hopes were instantly dashed as another ventured the
suggestion that she was a blow-job specialist. The way her mouth was
stretched open right now would seem to them to bear out this theory.
“Do you think she can move at all like that?” One of them asked as they
came back round to her front.
“Let's see,” ventured the other, and walking up to Tammy, she reached up
and slapped her hanging breasts from side to side then dug her nails
into the helpless woman's nipple. Not even a
ripple was discernible in Tammy's body as she screamed open mouthed
through the brank. Her eyes glared venom at the vicious bitch, who
simply laughed and renewed her assault on Tammy's defenceless boobs and
drew another wailing scream from the torsioned woman.
“How do you like that slut?” she asked, gripping both nipples and
pulling Tammy's breasts into painfully elongated orbs. “Not much you can
do about it, is there?” she taunted, returning to her earlier, slapping
misuse of the helplessly presented boobs.
The truck driver heard the screams and returned, sending the women
scuttling away with threats of calling the UPS and having them
classified as NPGs. He watched them go, noting the number of the car
they climbed into, then turning to Tammy he inspected her breasts for
damage.
“I'll report that lot to the UPS,” he informed her. Maybe they'll be
joining you shortly.” Grinning, he swung himself into the truck.
Blondie was dropped off, and through the open doors of the long storage
unit, Tammy could see literally thousands of frozen
turkey cubicles, all occupied with by same rock solid, deep frosted
women. Prostitutes and wrongly convicted society women alike, they
endured endlessly in their classless, depersonalised, frozen plight. If
the truth be known, there were probably more upper class women than
genuine prostitutes in de-animation.
Their continued protests at wrongful arrest resulted in freezing if only
to shut them up and remove the annoyance. An unofficial mark on their
documents, known by all state staff, would label them trouble makers.
Such a mark guarantied that their reanimation would only come if there
was a shortage of material;
a condition that hadn't arisen for hundreds of years now.
For some reason, the sight of such mass subjugation impressed upon Tammy
more than anything else, the level to which womanhood had been reduced.
None of them were safe from the state machine except perhaps a select
few with friends in high places; if they were lucky and weren't
swallowed by the state machine before help arrived.
The truck pulled away as Blondie was transported into her new home, and
within an hour they were turning into the gates of the Pod Unit.
Unloading was quick and efficient. A specially designed jet-fork lifted
the Ringer’d forms in pairs and whisked them into the cool, sweet air of
the building. At least this was something. The air in
The Ringer'd forms were laid out in a row on the floor, and for several
minutes they were alone. Suddenly the door swung open and a fearsome
looking woman approached them.
The woman was about thirty five and dressed in an all black uniform of
the State Guard. Highly polished knee boots clad her legs, and a high
peaked cap nestled on neat but short cropped hair. She looked a mean,
no-nonsense bitch, this one. A less impressive assistant appeared and
joined her as she walked along the line of new inputs, stopping as she
reached Tammy.
“This one upset someone?” she enquired, studying Tammy’s back-breaking
contortion and gently prodding Tammy's spread buttocks with her swagger
stick.
“No Captain, she’s a special order for a client.” Captain Brigette
Sommes looked annoyed.
“What the hell are clients doing interfering before training’s over? Who
is it anyway, do we know him?”
The assistant held out her pad and pointed to Tammy’s induction and
judgement sheet.
“Ah! I see, McKinley's grabbed her, has he.” Brigette looked down at
Tammy and for a second she was sure she detected something like
compassion for her plight.
“How long has she been Ringer’d?” she asked. The assistant quickly
calculated back to the time of arrest.
“Twenty hours now, Captain.” The Captain looked shocked as she turned
back to Tammy's distorted shape. “And tensioned like that?”
“Since the court, Captain.” “Process her first and get her off that
thing now!”
The assistant called in two station officers and Tammy was lifted over
to a leather covered bench. The ratchet clamps and adjusters sprang
free, and with a horrible groan filtering past the brank, Tammy began to
unfold like the petals of a flower.
“Vibro massage her,” the Captain called across. Tammy lay unmoving and
in agony as her brank was removed and the cramps of her long stay on the
Ringer-frame began to wrack her body. a
Suddenly, soothing vibrations were easing her pain as several hand held
massagers began to work over the surface of her body. She lay still,
luxuriating in the pleasant vibes, and watched as the Captain checked
the other Ringer'd forms on the floor.
She stopped at one NPG and made a sound of exclamation.
“Oh! So that's what happened to you, Sergeant. The Ringer’d woman on the
floor was originally a guard from a SAC unit the Captain had worked in
years before. The Sergeant had been dismissed after displaying her
natural liking for cruelty to the inmates, a cruelty that had resulted
in serious damage to some of the NPGs. Jobless and in disgrace, she had
drifted into prostitution as a means to earn her living.
It was only a matter of time before the UPS zapped her and Ringer’d her
for judgement. Now she was about to return to a SAC unit, but in a
rather different situation.
“Mark this one up for a recommendation for SO/CP training, Corporal,”
she instructed a nearby station crew member, exercising her senior
officer's right to alter an NPG’s program at any time. “Let's see how
she fares on the other end of a whip!”
One by one the Ringer’d women were released, fitted with another device
and walked away to another area. The Captain strolled over to Tammy, and
again there was that fleeting look of concern and compassion, but it was
quickly replaced by her normally stern look.
“Feeling better, 266?" That was obviously Tammy's new training centre
number. “I'll tell you now,” she continued. “I don't like this sort of
thing on a gratuitous basis. If you step out of line you'll get worse
than that from me. Do as you’re told and I'll make sure your short time
here is as painless as possible.”
Tammy nodded in acknowledgment of her warning and smiled a thank you for
her rapid release. For a second the faintest of smiles flickered on the
woman’s lips.
The Captain waved the assistant away and ordered the processing of the
other women. Soon they were alone in the room.
“You know you've been selected by Judge McKinley and the fat Inspector
don’t you?” Tammy had guessed the Judge was involved, so she nodded.
“You happy about that?” enquired the Captain. “You can speak,” she said,
realising that Tammy wanted to say more than could be conveyed in a nod.
“Thad no choice really,” Tammy confided. “It was that or end up doing
frozen turkey as an SS. I don’t think the Inspector would have liked it
if I'd refused.”
The Captain nodded knowingly.
“You surely would, I can assure you of that. Upset that overweight dyke
and you'd have had SS, SO, GP and a few others on your training sheet.”
Tammy felt relieved that she’d not argued. The Captain was looking at
her with a riveting stare, then after glancing around to make sure they
were alone, she started to speak in low tones.
“She's not the only woman in the service who prefers girls to men,”
revealed the Captain, reaching out to cup Tammy’s youthful, firm breast.
Tammy almost reacted by bringing up her freed hands and brushing her
away. But something stopped her. Maybe it was fear of retribution, or
was it something else? Brigette Sommes looked at her searchingly as she
continued to gently fondle Tammy's boob and run her leather gloved
finger over a rapidly hardening nipple. Her touch was completely
different to that of the mauling Inspector; it was soft, sensuous; -
pleasing!
“How does the prospect of being mine appeal to you?” Tammy looked over
her trim figure encased in that tight fitting uniform and was shocked to
realise that her pussy was heating up at the thought of being used by
this woman. It certainly seemed more agreeable than being trained to
accept the brutish demands of countless unknown men, and the thought of
falling into the hands of that sadistic Inspector sent shudders through
her body.
“I think I'd like that,” Tammy answered in a husky voice. “Good, I'll
arrange it. Now listen, no-one must know about this. I have friends in
very high places who will make sure you're officially transferred to the
custody of some obscure VIP when you've done training. The Judge and the
Inspector will give up when they know they've been out-bid. But if they
find out beforehand, your term at SAC will be hell. If they can’t have
you, they'll make sure you're completely ruined for anyone else.”
Tammy nodded that she understood.
“I'm leaving your training as they specified. If I interfere now they'll
suspect. Besides, the bondage training will be very useful when I take
custody of you. I've got some very interesting ideas for you,” She
chucked Tammy under the chin.
Tammy had mixed emotions at that statement, some fear, and some wildly
exciting. Then she thought of the wretched blonde and the obvious power
this Captain had. It occurred to her that just maybe she could help the
poor woman in some way.
“The Inspector sent a woman who was with me to the FT unit because she
upset her. It wasn't really her fault and it was cruel to do that to her
for what she did. Can you help her?
The Captain checked a list of new inputs and noted the shipment diverted
to the storage unit.
“Hmm! I'll see what I can do, but I doubt if I can get her stay
shortened. I should be able to get her transferred to my custody after
re-training; is she a good looker?" There was a curious twinkle in the
Captain's eye.
“Staggering,” was Tammy's assessment. The Captain looked pleased.
“Okay, I'll make sure she's sent over after her stay in FT. You can have
her for a toy.” She smiled as Tammy looked surprised.
“Oh! Yes! I make sure my toys have their fun too. And anyway, she'll be
no good for anything else after that length of re-training. Within a
month of release she'll be so slack and worn out they'll probably send
her for use as breeding stock in the middle east. It’s better for her
that she throws herself at a nice little thing like you than dozens of
hulking men.”
Tammy blushed as she felt an undeniable pleasure at the thought of
having a full grown woman at her beck and call; to do with as she
wished. It was then that she realised just how attractive she herself
was to the Captain. The Captain seemed
to read her thoughts and smiled again, before reaching for some equipment.
“Right, time to put your Walker on and get you podded for transport.”
The Walker was far less strenuous than a Ringer-frame, but nonetheless,
controlled Tammy completely. Its design allowed station personnel to
handle inputs without the need to truss them up. This was a necessity
during the podding process.
Tammy stood still as a strange tube affair with several attendant
attachments was placed vertically up her back. The device was secured to
her by a broad belt around the waist and a strange collar which had a
flat plate and two cuffs running across the back of it. Each section
both above and below the waist was adjustable, and after attachment to
her waist, the upper tube was adjusted to bring the collar to her
correct neck level. The collar snapped shut.
The lower tube, terminating in a discouraging, smooth tubed hook, was
then adjusted upward.
“Arch your back and stick your backside out,” instructed the Captain.
Tammy did as she was told and felt the cool smoothness
of the lower hook invading her rear passage. It wasn't a forceful
intrusion, more a careful easing in, allowing time for her sphincter
muscle to accept the intrusion and dilate at a natural rate. The
Captain's gentleness impressed her; and yet, she had the feeling that
she could also be strong and dominating in her approach if the mood took
her. Tammy quivered with an unaccountable feeling of excitement at the
thought. It would give her something to look forward to during the long
months of training she was about to endure. For some reason, the thought
of being owned by a strict yet benevolent woman was exciting.
The tube continued inward for some six inches before the curve of the
hook nestled tightly into her buttock crease. She was instructed to
clasp her hands behind the neck, and having done so, found that her
wrists were laying neatly into the rigidly mounted cuffs on the collar.
Two more snaps of mating steel and she was as helpless as a baby.
The Captain now picked up the end of the three foot tube swinging from a
ball pivot on the back of the waist band, and Tammy could see that it
had a rubber hand grip on the end, now in the Captain's hand. A firm
push from the stiff control rod and Tammy moved forward as the Captain
walked behind.
Tammy found that the Walker was not an unpleasant experience. It
controlled her, displayed her, and yet was fairly comfortable. The
tube and its deep insert into her lower body ensured that she stayed
slightly arched with breasts thrust forward, but this was a minor
contortion after the frame. Another fact in its favour was the shapely
Captain who had complete control over her. It was a nice feeling to know
she was in her power, and her puzzlement at earlier feelings grew. Why
should she be enjoying the fact that she was now no more than a dog on a
lead?
Urged by the pushing control rod, they moved forward through the
automatic doors at the end of the room, and Tammy found herself
confronted by about twenty, long tubular containers roughly two foot in
diameter. She looked at them, puzzled, and the Captain, sensing this,
explained.
“They're transport pods. You'll be in one soon and on your way to
SAC-94. These are already occupied.” She pushed Tammy’s control rod,
then on second thoughts pulled her to a stop.
“No point in rushing. If I take you in last you won't have to stay in
the pod so long. I'll give you a tour instead.” Tammy was thankful for
her consideration and her feeling that she would be reasonably well
treated when owned by this woman was strengthened.
“As I was saying, these are already full. Normally they'd be shipped
out, but because we're responsible for shipping and distribution we've
been lumbered with the job of carrying out the judgement and sending
them off. The powers-that-be decided it would be cheaper than if we sent
them away for processing, then brought them back for distribution in
their new configuration.”
Tammy listened, but was obviously not sure what the point of all this
was, so the Captain enlightened her.
“You remember the assault on SAC-86 a couple of months ago?” Tammy
nodded as she remembered the newspaper article about a group of commando
type resistance women who had attempted to rescue all the occupants of
SAC-86. They'd been captured and then vanished from the public eye. The
Captain waited as she saw the dawning realisation on Tammy’s face.
“They're all in there?” she asked. The Captain nodded.
“All except one who was the first to be processed. Come on, I'll show
you.” She led her to a side door and into another room. There Tammy
stood open mouthed as she saw the fate of the self styled Colonel of the
resistance group.
In the centre of the room was a huge de-animation booth containing two
people. One was the Colonel, the other the most repulsive, hugely fat
oaf of a man she'd ever seen. His face was cruel and stubbled with
several days growth of beard. Stained and rotting yellow teeth showed in
his partly open mouth. The oaf had a leering, smile frozen on his face
as he looked down at the Colonel; which was not surprising. 2
The lady was naked and chained in the classic slave girl pose. Kneeling,
legs wide apart and sitting on her heels. She was fully ringed in
nipples and nose, and the chains from those rings were firmly clasped in
the man’s hand. Her clitoris had also been ringed, but instead of a
chain, it had a weight hanging from it.
The shattering thing was that she was almost between the standing man’s
astride legs, and his obviously erect penis was buried deep in her
mouth. For a fat man, the penis was colossal.
Tammy had always thought that fat men had small willies, this animal was
obviously the exception.
The look of revulsion on the woman Colonel's face was apparent, and now
frozen for all to see. Her mouth was stretched tautly around the root of
his shaft, and it took no imagination to realise that the head of this
rod was deep into her throat. His grotesque testicle sack was pressed
against her chin and her nose was almost buried in the overhang of his
belly.
Tammy felt pity for the woman, who was clearly a very beautiful woman.
To be so horribly displayed with this animal was an insult to her great
beauty. Captain Sommes stayed silent as the
full magnitude of the court's judgement sank into Tammy's consciousness.
“We ship her out today. The judgement was for them all to be displayed
like this in their home towns as warnings to others. Judge McKinley's
idea after they were unbranked to give evidence. They all called him
names ranging from dirty old man to a wizened old fart. The Colonel here
called him a cock-sucking
capitalist; I suspect she's rather regretting putting that thought in
his head now.”
The Captain didn't know that to add to her trauma, the Judge had
privately visited Colonel Blakely after the hearing and informed her
that he was from her home town. As a treat for her, he would make a
point of driving past her own cock-sucking act every day on his way to
and from the court. He'd promised to time his drive through the square
where she was to exhibited to coincide with the striking of 8 am and 5
pm on the nearby town
clock. That way she would always know when he was passing and enjoying
the spectacle of his revenge for her insult. She was also appraised of
the fact, that if he died before the end of her sentence, he had
arranged for himself to replace the prisoner.
The frozen Colonel must know that she would almost certainly spend the
latter three quarters of her sentence sucking the cock of her most hated
enemy.
Tammy continued to stare as the Captain rambled on.
“By the way, the man is a life sentence murderer. He was given the
choice of serving till his death in a penal colony, or this. He was
delighted to spend the next hundred years with his cock in the Colonel's
mouth; hence the smile. I suppose you could say
it’s just another from of penal punishment,” she said smiling at the pun.
“The reason they were podded was to give us time to locate the ugliest,
most repulsive males serving prison sentences. That was the ruling by
the Judge. We've found them now and the rest
of the resistance girls will be done by tomorrow and placed on site by
the day after.
“But how do you get them to perform these acts while you freeze them?”
asked a puzzled Tammy. She couldn't envisage anything persuading the
Colonel to pose for this obscene spectacle.
“That's easy. We just zap them with a Tasser pistol and arrange them.
The Colonel was just propped in position until she was frozen and then
we took the props away; the male prisoner didn't need any assistance, he
did it all on his own.
We waited until the first signs of neural recovery in the Colonel, then
froze them. As you can see, the facial muscles are first to recover, so
we managed to get that wonderful look on her face. I think it really
completes the image the Judge was after.”
Tammy stared long at the deep frozen statue of obscenity and wept
inwardly for the Colonel. It must have been a horrific experience to be
paralysed and fully aware of what they were
doing to her; especially as she would see that huge, erect penis
approaching her face before it was forced down her throat.
The woman would know that all her friends and relatives would be seeing
her horribly submissive display for the rest of their lives; whilst she
remained as she was, preserved in all her beauty for the next hundred
years. It would be so humiliating for such a proud, forceful woman to be
shown as a submissive male toy in this most degrading way.
“Pity,” the Captain murmured. “Such a waste. I had a lot of fun with her
for a few days. She wasn't keen, she’s very anti lesbian, but when
you're Ringer'd you don't have a lot of choice do you.?” Tammy shook her
head in agreement. She could imagine the firebrand Colonel fighting her
frame as the Captain used her, then being reduced to helpless fury as
her frame was notched to the severe setting and her brank expanded to
mouth tearing levels. She wouldn't have even been able to twitch when
the Captain resumed her abuse.
“I left her all night with a couple of huge vibrators stuck in her. She
was rather annoyed and decidedly hot when I came in the next day.
There's something so rewarding about being able to use such a strongly
resisting woman like her, and then to get her going even when she's
fighting against it. Much more fun than having a submissive type on a
Ringer-frame.”
“Couldn't you have arranged something for her?” Tammy asked, tactfully
changing the subject. The Captain shook her head.
“No, it was too public what they did. An example has to be made. I'd say
that any future resistance fighters will think twice after seeing her
fate. The Colonel's lucky in a way. The girl who shot the guard is
marked down for an even worse position. Down on all fours and shafted
from both ends by two of the most gruesome men I've ever seen, one up
the ass and the other having a blow-job. She'll be in The Bull Ring in
Bir-Metro; your home town I believe. The Judge liked one of the other
women and chose to have her at the National Exhibition Centre as a
permanent exhibit. Real fancy arrangement that one. She'll be kneeling
and shafted by a guy lying down, who she’s straddling, one in front
getting a blow job, and then one each side with her holding their cocks,
which I might add, are, stuck in her ears.
“Another one is to be shafted front and back. The men will be fastened
arched backward and then she'll be mounted between them, one cock in her
pussy and one in her ass, so she'll be suspended on two meaty shafts.
Off course, she'll be mounted on a Ringer-frame and stressed like you
were. The Corporal of the group got off lightly because she wasn't
actually at the scene, she broke an ankle before they left shore. She'll
be Ringer’d and spread, stuffed with the biggest dildos available in all
openings and suspended by her nipple rings. Not that painful once she's
frozen!”
Captain Sommes turned back to the cubicle and released the catches. With
a hiss, the door swung open. She reached forward
with her gloved hand and affectionately stroked the hard surface of the
deep frozen Colonel.
“Sorry, Colonel Blakely, perhaps in ten or fifteen years I'll figure a
way to get your sentence commuted, and then I'll have you for myself.
Until then, keep sucking,” she said with a chuckle. She swung the door
shut and sealed it, both of them knowing that the Colonel had heard
every word.
Tammy was moved on, and as they passed the silent Pods, she felt
compassion for the occupants, stored and helpless, and already aware of
the fate awaiting them. She could see that one pod was marked
‘Exhibition’ and the another ‘Double Act’. ie Captain halted her just
before they reached the door ¢ end.
‘Til just warn you before I hand you over to the pod crew. This Walker
is not as innocent as it looks. The button on the grip is for
controlling you if you get out of hand or don't do as your told; one
press and it sends a powerful shock through you from asshole to neck.
You won't want to try it twice I can assure you.”
Tammy felt the ominous cylindrical electrode nestling deep in her tight
bottom take on an altogether more sinister: significance. The Captain smiled.
“And there was you thinking we'd gone soft putting you into this gadget.
Remember, when we walk through that door you're New Input 266. Don’t
look to me for help because I'll be just as hard on you as any of the
others.” Tammy assured her that she understood and they proceeded toward
the doors. Suddenly she was pulled to a halt, and she turned to face her
captor.
The Captain smiled and reaching up, took her left nipple between two
fingers. Tammy felt her nodule harden as the Captain rolled it gently in
her leather gloved grip.
“Be good, and don't get yourself frozen for being naughty. I'll be
waiting, and I intend to have a lot of fun with you,” she said in a
sultry and highly suggestive voice. Again Tammy felt the hot ooze of
arousal between her legs as she contemplated being bound and helpless in
this woman's power.
The smiling face suddenly changed and became stern and business-like.
Without further comment she prodded Tammy forward through the doors and
into the podding area.
The Captain handed her control rod to a waiting crew member, they had
finished all the others and were now ready for Tammy. She was prodded
forward towards a large, vertical scanner and stood directly between the
sensor plates.
A pale beam began to traverse her form from head to foot, its passage
felt by a slight warming on her skin, then the scanner screen indicated
that the scan was successful and Tammy waited patiently as the woman
pressed a button marked ‘continue process’.
Beyond the wall, a machine hummed into life and the woman informed her
that her pod was being tailored to fit her body. The crew-member knew
that she was a first time input and took the time to explain what was
going on. Tammy now understood that these women sympathised with many of
the inputs coming
through, but were governed by their job. One mistake and they too could
end up as statistics! This didn’t stop them from being reasonable in their
handling.
The SAC station was to be another matter entirely. The all female crew
had been chosen for their total lack of compassion and devotion to duty.
They didn't see their captives as fellow women, more as objects to be
programmed and shaped into government decreed standards.
Tammy watched as her pod was brought in and opened. The foam padding
inside was now moulded to the exact shape of her body, taking into
account the fact that the Walker stayed on during transit. How long the
transit was to be she didn’t know, but she guessed several hours.
The SAC units were out at sea, many in the old days had been redundant
off-shore gas platforms, but now they were custom built for the job and
were much larger units altogether. The old rigs had housed some 100
inmates, whereas these new SACs had up to one thousand trainees at any
given time. This meant that the rapport built up in the old units
between warders and trainees was no longer there. The new SACs were
totally depersonalising as each trainee became a number.
Tammy was led forward and assisted as they laid her into the lower
mould. She could see the Captain watching from afar, but resisted any
sign of familiarity.
The Corporal leaned down and made sure she was snugged correctly into
position, talking as she checked.
“You may be podded for a day or so if they're busy over there, so take a
drink of this high energy sustainer before I close up.” Tammy sucked the
straw on the offered container and was amazed at the incredible taste
and texture of the liquid. She was starving hungry, and yet that one
suck was enough to remove her hunger pangs and give her the feeling of
having just eaten a large meal. Her thirst also vanished completely.
The lid swung closed, and Tammy found that she was being slightly
squeezed by a resilient and yet firmly contouring
interior. She heard the snapping of many fastenings closing, and knew
she was podded until someone out there decided
was to be unpacked
It was a sobering and frightening thought that the next time the lid
opened, she would be incarcerated within the inescapable surrounds of a
SAC unit. Inescapable and also impregnable, as the female terrorists had
found out to their cost. Tammy couldn't help wishing that she was still
strutting around on her
lead with the comforting thought that the strong, competent Captain was
holding her control rod.
Her container began to roll, and her with it. Tammy Sullivan had now
ceased to exist. In her place was the rolling object stencilled with the
legend NI-266.


CHAPTER SIX
SAC-94

The trip to SAC-94 was, for the incarcerated Tammy, a journey several
days long. In fact, her pod was resting in the dispatch bay of the pod
unit a little over fourteen hours after leaving the podding room. The
trip over to SAC-94 was a traumatic series of rolling, bumping, jarring
movements only made bearable by the thick padding of her moulded body
enclosure. She was aware of the method used for transporting pods out to
the SAC units and had often stood on the sea shore watching heavily
laden jet transports zoom overhead. She'd always thought they looked
like huge wasps with a clutch of eggs stored below their thorax. The
thought that she was now one of those eggs with nothing but air and
thousands of feet between her and mother earth was enough to make her tremble
with fear.
In a way, the Judge and his cohort the Inspector, had done Tammy a
favour. Their interference in the normal training schedule meant that it
was imperative she was unpacked as quickly as possible and prepared for
tuition. It was only ten minutes after her Pod had come to rest on the
floor of the SAC94 receiving bay that she was on the move again. The
pod rolled for an eternity as she was moved to the unpacking bay some
two hundred yards away.
The movement was rapid. More rapid than one would expect when being
rolled by a person, but then she couldn't know that her pod was being
pushed by two half circle forks on the front of a jet-fork.
“Who the hell authorised this?” exclaimed the tough looking Major as she
read Tammy's induction notes. “Do they think we're bloody miracle
workers here?”
Major Cunningham was angry, and with good reason. McKinley, in his
impatience to get his hands on Tammy, had ordered that she be trained in
basic GP and SO/Bondage techniques at the same time
“How the devil are we supposed to train her in body language and muscle
control when she’s trussed up like a chicken?” The Major gestured
angrily to two wardresses and indicated she wanted the Pod opened.
Standing back she watched to see the enclosure that was so special as to
warrant such an order.
The lid swung open and Tammy blinked as blinding light shafted into her
dark haven.
“Get her out and let’s see what we've got here,” Brenda ordered. Tammy
was assisted out as she stiffly tried to climb from the rocking pod
without the use of her arms. Soon she stood fully
upright and was given a warning prod as someone took hold of her control
rod.
“Stand to attention, you sloppy individual,” roared the Major. “When you
see an officer you jump to it, 266, or I'll have you regretting it.”
The Major's standard greeting for first timer’s seemed to have the
desired effect. She found it was kinder on the women to let them know
where they stood right from the start. Apart from that it saved the
training time that would be wasted whilst they endured some punishment
or other for lax behaviour.
Tammy shivered with fear and did her best to stand upright and still.
The Major flicked her swagger stick into her armpit with practised ease,
then with hands clasped behind her back, she began to walk around Tammy
and inspect her from all sides. There were grunts of approval as she
surveyed the smooth, curving lines of Tammy’s naked body.
“Not bad, not bad at all,” she conceded. “Best we've had here for some
time.” She finished her inspection and returned to Tammy's front,
locking eyes with the fearful woman.
“Right 266, you're now in SAC-94, and in here I'm God! From now on you
do everything you're told at the run. No hesitation, no argument; you
just do what ever you're instructed to do. Understand?”
Tammy nodded, not d eyed Major's wrath
“You answer Yes Ma'am!” “Y-Yes Ma'am,” Tammy stammered out.
“Good, we have progress,” the Major's tone seemed to soften slightly as
if she'd accepted that Tammy was going to be cooperative. That made her
job so much easier. The forms required and electronic data updates
accompanying each FT/ Punishment programming was a real headache.
“Your prospective new owner has decreed that you be trained in two
disciplines simultaneously,” she continued. Personally, I have my doubts
that it can be done, but we'll try. For you it's going to mean a very
tough and strenuous time. You are going to have to attempt everything
the other GP trainees are doing without having the full use of your arms
and legs. Do you understand?” 
“Yes Ma'am,” answered Tammy, a little more confidently now as she once
again got the feeling that this officer was trying to ease the trauma of
her conversion from free thinking woman to a sex toy.
Major Cunningham turned back to the wardens and gave them their
instructions.
“From this moment on, 266 remains secured in one way or another. I don’t
ever want to see her with free hands, and remember, because this one’s a
special I'll be watching her closely. Do you understand?” The wardens
nodded.
“Don't billet her with the GPs, put her straight into a SO/BD dormitory;
that way we can give her 24-hour BD training and fit the GP basic into
daylight hours.” Brenda paused for a moment as if checking she hadn't
forgotten anything, then ordered the other containers opened.
Soon, thirty Walker displayed women of varying ages and shapes stood
listening to the Major's introductory speech. Some, the miscreant LPGs,
looked bored whilst the New Input NPGs listened with trembling attention.
“Right! Now you'll all be taken and allocated a sleeping cubicle,
released from the Walkers and giving your barber's kit. I want to see
you all back up here, without hair or pubes, in twenty minutes. She
nodded to a waiting wardress. “Take them away, sergeant!”
Tammy moved to turn into file with the rest, but the Major's Swagger
stick prodded her back.
“Not you, 266. How do you suppose you're going to shave wearing a Walker?”
It was only then that the full impact of the Major's earlier
instructions to her subordinates struck home. She really was going to be
secured at all times; her arms as working units would cease to exist
until the day she was issued with a competency certificate.
Alone, she watched the others marched out, and then as instructed by the
wardresses, spread her legs wide.
First to fall before the buzzing, sonic shears was her pubic down,
followed closely by the flowing locks of her hair.
A tear ran down Tammy’s cheek as lock after lock slid over her shoulders
and dropped to the floor. Major Cunningham stood and watched with a face
devoid of any expression other than total disinterest. She'd watched
this degrading procedure so many times before, it now failed to have any
impact as one of her own kind was so ruthlessly depersonalised.
Within minutes Tammy stood revealed for all to see. Even her eyebrows
had fallen victim to the sonic shears. All that she was allowed to keep
were her eyelashes.
The Major glanced at her watch then addressed the assembled enlisted women.
“It's late now, so sooner than start her on GP today, take her straight
to SO/BD and install her in a cage. She can start fresh in the morning.
Oh! and don’t forget to arrange for cage feeding and toilet facilities,
She's not going to have time for normal messing routines, and she won't
be able to do it herself anyway.
Tammy felt a prod in her back and found herself being directed towards
the door, but before they reached it, the door swung open and allowed a
trotting column of completely hairless women to jog in. The new influx
was back from GP. Tammy envied them their freedom, for although they
were also clasping hands behind their necks, it was by their own effort
and not because of clamped wrists as was her own case. The control rods
on the Walkers had been removed, but the wrist clamps remained.
Although open, they were available for instant use if they were needed.
Apparently, the reduced Walker back brace was the uniform of an SAC
inmate. It was a uniform that ensured swift re-assertion of control over
any wayward prisoner.
The column of jogging females spread across the room and turned until
they were all facing forward in line abreast. An apt term in this case,
because the women continued to run on the spot and provided an
interesting spectacle of freely joggling boobs. The sergeant stalked
stiffly in and gave the command to halt.
GPs GPs Halt! 32:GP’s ready for inspection Ma’am.” she said, saluting 
smartly.
Tammy saw no more as she was urged through the door.


CHAPTER SEVEN
SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS

They travelled long corridors and sped down in various lifts, and Tammy
was awed by the size of the place. Her awe was compounded by the sight
of jogging, naked females with hands clasped behind head wherever they
went. Some wore weights attached to nipples or clitoris, others were
gagged. They were under punishment for one reason or another she was
informed by the talkative wardress holding her control bar.
Tammy cringed inwardly as another pair of jouncing breasts jogged by;
the pain on the face of the owner was obvious as two brass weights
jerked and bounced on her tender nipples.
“May I speak?” queried Tammy.
“Yes, you can speak to the wardresses unless you're under punishment and
have been instructed not to. If you do it then you end up like that girl
over there, gagged for a week.” Tammy stared at the awesomely packed and
stretched mouth and shuddered. The wardress grinned.
“You're going to have to get used to that. As a special SO/BD trainee
you'll always be gagged.” Her grin widened at the look of horror
spreading across her captive’s face.
“You'd better ask any questions now because in ten minutes time it will
be too late for you, sweetie.” Suddenly Tammy's fear welled over the
top, and she jerked at the control rod and tried
to twist clear of the wardress.
Savagely she was jerked upright and held quivering in the Walker as a
searing bolt of pain raced from her tender bottom to
the collar around her neck. The wardress held the button for 15 or 20
seconds before removing her thumb.
“Still want to struggle?” she asked. Tammy shook her head. The Captain
had warned her, and she was right. Once was enough from that innocent
looking Walker.
“Don't worry, everyone tries it once, there's no FT/punishment for the
odd occasion; that is, if there ever is another occasion, the wardress
smirked.
“Some of the staff use the button for their own enjoyment, they like to
see the GPs squirm but I only use it if you get out of line. You'll be
pleased to know that I've been temporarily posted to the BD section to
oversee your training; Major Cunningham's orders. To tell you the truth,
I'm looking forward to it. I've always fancied having fun with bondaged
women, but in GP we don't get the chance.”
Tammy looked her over, and with a feeling of resignation to her fate,
decided that she could do worse. The wardress was fairly young and
reasonably well shaped. Nothing special, but acceptable; if you had no
choice!
They arrived at BD, and Tammy guessed that by now they were deep below
the ocean; probably down in the huge support foot resting on the seabed.
Her assumption was proved correct when she looked out of a round window
and saw the rolling dunes of the sea-floor disappearing into a dark
horizon of water. They eventually arrived at her allocated dormitory,
and upon entering, Tammy was confronted with rows of flat cages which she estimated to
measure two foot high by six foot square; occupied by strange board-like
devices festooned with various restraint equipment.
The wardress checked a computer screen then pushed Tammy forward.
“Cage number 341 is yours for the next few months”, she informed a
nervous Tammy. “I'll just get you snugged up for the night and then you
can have a nice rest. The others won't be in
for a couple of hours yet, not until they've finished the days training.”
Tammy stood by and watched as they reached her allocated cage, and the
wardress opened the door and slid out her bed.
Bed! That was a joke. It was solid, glass-reinforced plastic with a
weird hole about where her neck would be. She stood still as the
wardress swung her round and began to remove the Walker, with a stern
warning that even with it off she had no chance of escape. The dormitory
was continually scanned by cameras and twenty wardresses would come
rushing at the first signs of any resistance. Tammy resigned herself to
whatever was going to
happen. Captain Sommes had warned her not to invoke FT/ Punishment.
The Walker fell free, and the wardress hung it on a hook provided at the
side of the cage, then turned and ordered Tammy to get
on the bed. Obediently, she climbed up and lay back ready to be prepared.
The wardress took each ankle in turn and secured them widely apart using
the built-in, sliding ankle clamps. Now she ordered Tammy to reach up on
either side of her head and place her wrists in similar clamps at the
top of the bed.
Tammy did so and was surprised as the clamps snapped shut of their own
accord. The wardress explained.
“Normally you bed yourself to this stage after we take the Walker off.
We have a tea break at that time and the SO/BDs put themselves to bed.
After the break we come back in to adjust, add toileting fittings and
carry out any special instructions. Okay? You understand that?”
Tammy indicated that she did and watched as the wardress pressed a
button at the side of the bed. The clamps moved outward and upward with
a hum, and Tammy found herself being stretched into a stringent star of
offered femininity. Reaching a preset tension, the clamps stopped
automatically.
“Like that did you?” enquired the wardress. Tammy didn’t answer; she
wasn't sure yet.
The wardress moved around to her head and Tammy felt a narrow sliding
panel supporting her head sliding up toward the end of the bed leaving
her head hanging over a void.
“Let your head drop,” instructed the wardress. Tammy did as she was told
and found herself looking at the underside of the bed as her head went
through the gap. Now she could see that with the sliding of the panel,
the weird hole had become two half circles. Underneath the sliding
section was a huge, hollow plug gag set horizontally and fixed about
three inches off the slider.
The sliding section began to move back, and Tammy realised that her neck
would soon be enclosed and her head secured below the level of the bed.
It also became apparent that with the board back in position and her
head now occupying the space, there was only one place for that gag to go.
“Open wide,” chirped the w: ss. Tammy opened and felt the monstrous
device jacking her jaw wide as it moved ponderously into her gaping
mouth. There was a click, and the slider was locked into position.
From now on everything occurring above that bed was irrelevant to Tammy.
She'd been neatly separated from her body and any
ordeal it was forced to endure. A secondary function of the slider | :
had been to gag her most efficiently. Tammy looked around the limited
field of her vision as she sensed the wardress readying something above.
From this position she could see that the gag continued from the other
side of the mounting in a flexible tube vanishing from her sight.
Obviously, this gag was also for feeding.
Suddenly, Tammy tensed and felt the slim finger of a catheter sliding
into her tiny wee hole. The Major's words came back in a flash. Arrange
for cage feeding and toilet arrangements. Oh! Well, at least she didn’t
have to put her hand up if she wanted
to go for a pee. Another thought entered her mind at about the same time
as something cold and huge was pressed up against the tight rose-bud of
her ass.
Tammy tried to resist, but the slick, greased head of the anal waste and
cleansing unit shouldered her sphincter muscle aside with effortless
ease. It wasn't so bad after all. The tube felt as if it was covered
with some sort of resilient rubber, and after the initial insertion
shock, it nestled quite comfortably inside her. The strain on her
stretched anal ring was somewhat uncomfortable. but that would pass as
soon as her sphincter gave up the natural urge to close.
The tube continued to slide in until some sort of flange was pressed
tightly against the mouth of her opening. Now, three rubber covered
claw-like fingers expanded outwards inside her channel and gripped the
sphincter neck between flange and claw. The tube was in to stay.
Tammy couldn't know what was coming next, but was soon appraised of her
final fitting as a massive, vibrating dildo drilled its way into her
love nest and burrowed deep into her body with shattering waves of
oscillating energy. A small snap clip located on its outer end clamped
down on her clitoris and ensured that it remained in place.
Already feeling the rising heat of arousal, Tammy gasped with
unsuppressed pleasure as she felt the wardress give her breasts a sly
fondling, shielded from the cameras by her body. The hand was removed,
then the sound of receding footsteps told her that she was in the final
configuration for sleep in the BD dormitory. She tested her restraints
but could find no relief. Even before she tried, Tammy knew it was
hopeless. Everything in this place had been thoroughly tested on the
thousands of luckless women who had gone before. She tried to imagine
what her headless, helpless body looked like from above and felt her
crotch ooze with warmth as the image of a delightfully stretched offering
formed in her mind. 
Two long hours elapsed as Tammy drifted in a semi-aroused state,
engineered by the never ending buzz in her lower body. She had tried to
relieve the ache of need with self arousing thoughts of the beautiful
Captain, or her never to be seen again husband, but the huge spread of
her body prevented her from applying any physical effort to bring those
thoughts to a successful conclusion. It was most frustrating.
Suddenly, the dormitory was alive with sound as dozens of SO/ BDs
clattered in, chattering and discussing their various ordeals during
the day's training. Privates scurried about removing Walkers before
leaving the girls to apply their own self-bondage for the night
A group gathered around Tammy's cage and she could hear them discussing
her.
“That's the new NPG. She's been scheduled for GP and SO/BD at the same
time.” A sound of wonderment swept the crowd.
“Do you reckon she'll get through it?” a voice asked.
There seemed to be a mixed opinion on that; probably an equal split of
yeas and nays. Tammy heard whispered tones and then several loud giggles
followed by an expectant silence. Something was going on and she had a
distinct feeling that it was herself that was going to be the centre of
the plot.
The door of her cage creaked open and two women appeared looking under
the bed at her face.
Sergeant Wilmslow looked down at her monitor in the control room and saw
two women vanishing into the cage of the new
arrival. She grinned before turning to the other NCO in the room.
“Look's like 266 is getting her welcoming initiation,” she said,
pointing to the screen. The others crowded around to watch as the camera
zoomed Tammy's fettered form into close-up.
Tammy felt exceptionally vulnerable as she saw the mischievous looks
on those faces. Whatever they were going to do, there was nothing she
could do to stop them.
“Party time, sweet lips,” teased one of them, and then vanished from her
vision.
Seconds later the first of many caressing touches stroked across her
body. Tammy responded with a groan. She was already hot and it didn’t
need much to bring her to the boil.
But these girls were experts. After all, they'd just completed the GP
course before being sent here for additional BD training. They were the
pick of the bunch.
They toyed with Tammy, using their intimate knowledge and newly learned
skills to excite her to bubbling levels of arousal, but never giving
enough to cause her to boil over. Her breasts were teased and fondled,
inner thighs stroked and pussy lips kissed; just enough to drive her
crazy with desire but no more.
It went on for nearly half an hour. The control room crew were always
lenient on these occasions and usually allowed them to continue without
interruption. Anyway, it gave them something to watch during their
unofficial, extended tea break.
Tammy could take no more. With or without the caressing hands she was
rising to the point of explosion, and the girls sensed that it was time.
They bent their mouths to her craving nipples and began to trace
electrifying lines of pleasure around these hardened turrets of passion
with warm, silky tongues. The fettered woman arched against her
restraints and gave vent to a huge groan of pleasure as her bubbling
sexual arousal began to explode.
Her eruption was of earth-shaking proportions, she bucked and squirmed
so violently that her tormentors barely managed to maintain their
sensuous oral grip on her nipples, but they continued as Tammy's fingers
curled backward and feet pointed downward in helpless paroxysms of
pleasure. She strained and writhed at her clamps, but the clamps held
firm as her raging lust erupted and surged through her body in rippling
waves of orgasmic delight. 7
Then came the calm, and Tammy slumped back to the bed, spent and weak as
she lay in her fulfilled world of warmth and
tranquillity. A voice made her strain her eyes sideways to see the
smiling face of one of her tormentors.
“A gift from Captain Sommes,” the girl said and winked before disappearing.
Suddenly Tammy didn't feel so alone and deserted. She had a guardian
angel watching over her. Even here the Captain's tentacles of power and
connections were at work. She would make sure that Tammy survived her
training unless Tammy herself was to do something really stupid and end
as a frozen turkey in some long stay storage unit.
Major Cunningham turned from the internal vid-screen on her desk and
flicked a button on her vid-phone.
“Captain Sommes, Pod Unit East-13, please.” She waited as the
vid-phone glowed into life, then smiled as Captain Sommes appeared.
“Hi! Brigette. Just thought I'd let you know 266 has just been initiated
by the girls and she's settling in nicely. I'll keep an eye on her for
you, don’t worry.”
Captain Sommes face showed relief.
“Thanks Brenda, I owe you one. Anything you need, let me know.” Major
Cunningham smiled thoughtfully.
“You could lend me 266 occasionally when she’s yours.” she suggested
slyly, guessing that the Captain had slightly more than a compassionate
interest in this young woman. Brigette’s face told her all she wanted to
know. Obviously, she was planning to divert 266 from the Judge and his
fat cohort, and Brenda felt that this was not altogether an undesirable
thing. Such a well shaped input would be wasted on that cruel pair. They
would ruin her with their sadistic cruelty, when a more subtle approach
could produce a gem of obedient, pleasure slave. Brigette interrupted
her thoughts as she answered.
“No problem, you can come around week-ends and we'll use her together;
in fact, you could bring your own pet round and we'll have a real party.
A relieved Brigette Sommes flicked the vid-phone off as the incoming
call faded. Dear old Brenda now had a vested interest in 266's unscathed
discharge from SAC-94. And above all, she was a very discreet and close
friend. She felt a hot rush between her legs as she realised that 266
was guaranteed to have only the finest bondage training from now on. She
would emerge as one of the most pliable and durable playthings ever to
come out of SAC-94. Which reminded her, she must remember to ask Brenda
to ensure that 266 was properly prepared for some of the tortuous and
extremely stringent positions she had planned once Tammy was hers to
play with. She was sure her colleague would make certain 266 could
attain such positions once the requirements were described in detail.
And if not, a steady program of increasingly severe contortions and
tension would ensure that she eventually did.
Poor 266! She was going to be the first SO/BD to be programmed
by vid-phone. Bound by remote control, so to speak!
Tammy dozed in a world of fulfilment, totally unaware of the fact that
at this very moment her present state of flexibility was not even a
quarter of what she would be capable of in three, strenuous months time,
or that the two inmate-agents of the Captain were instructed to take
every opportunity to tease and arouse her fettered form.


CHAPTER EIGHT
THE TRAINING STARTS

Tammy awoke to the clamour of ringing bells. At first she was
frightened, until she realised that her neighbouring dormitory inmates
were awakening with the normal groans and grunts, albeit somewhat
stifled by the same arrangement as her own. It was quickly apparent that
none of the more experienced trainees were in any panic at the sound of
bells. In fact, there seemed to be a general air of annoyance in the
sounds of the awakening women. ;
She relaxed as best she could and, to her surprise, became aware of the
fact that she'd had an untroubled night's sleep. Generally she had
drifted in and out of pleasant dreams as the vibrator buzzed steadily
on. It was still going now, probably powered by one of those new fusion
motors; Jeez! she thought, those things run for five or six years
before they need refuelling. It was a mind boggling revelation.
Suddenly the tube in her mouth began to vibrate gently in pulsing
bursts, at first she didn’t understand, then as the first trickle of
high energy supplement trickled over her tongue, she understood that it
was a warning that she was about to be fed. The warm, syrupy liquid
began to flow more copiously, and Tammy found that the metered flow was
carefully adjusted to be easily swallowed.
Within minutes she'd had enough, and using her tongue to try and stem
the flow, she found that it suddenly stopped. The slight pressure caused
by her tongue against the tube was enough for
the feeder machine to know she'd been satisfied. Tammy was becoming more
impressed by the minute. A neat gadget, she thought.
The thought died as a gush of warm liquid flowed into her back passage,
and with the growing feeling of unrest in her abdomen, she understood
that she’d been enema’d. A slight pulsing suction was now inducing her
to give up her wastes. Tammy held on for a second as she experienced the
embarrassing thoughts of being emptied in public by a machine, but the
faint hum of nearby machines made her aware that she was not alone in
her toilet arrangements. All the inmates were being cleaned out and
prepared for the day but, unlike Tammy, they would have the chance to
eat normally at tables between training, whilst she was to remain
fettered at all times.
She relaxed her defensive resistance, and the machines methodically
removed her waste, both liquid and solid in a far more discreet manner
than would normally be used by a free person.
Warm washes of luxuriously smooth liquids completed the job as she was
flushed out and internally made sparkling clean. On the whole it was a
novel and not unpleasant experience which she felt would soon lose its
embarrassing nature.
The door swung open and Tammy saw a multitude of moving ankles in boots
as the wardresses moved in to begin the task of releasing the cage
occupants. She was left till last, and in fact the last of the other
dormitory inmates was just going out of the door fully fitted with her
Walker as Tammy was finally allowed to bring her head back through the
slider
She was a bit stiff, but not as bad as she thought she'd be. Her
head had in fact been supported by her unwilling grasp on the invading
gag-feeder, which had allowed her neck muscles to relax during sleep.
The fact that she'd been stretched also made her slightly stiff, but
after a few seconds she was amazed to find that it had a chiropractic
effect and loosened up her joints.
The Walker was refitted, including cuffing her wrists back behind her
neck. A large ball-type lock-on gag was wedged into her mouth and
fastened securely in place; then, with control rod attached, she was
taken up to the training area in GP. Immediately, she was treated as a
novelty. All the other trainees had heard about this NPG who was to
attempt two courses at the same time, and even at this early stage,
Tammy stuck out like a sore thumb. She was the only one to be strutting
around with
her arms stretched up and behind her. Even in a crowd, she could be
picked out with ease.
In the pre-class excitement she was bombarded with questions, and it was
frustrating to be reduced to either a nod or a shake of the head. There
was so much she wanted to ask these other
inmates, but apparently she would never get the chance, her gag was a
permanent feature in her training.
Suddenly the hubbub died and there was a rush for the desks and then
they all sat gingerly as they became accustomed to sitting down with
their bottoms full of Walker prods. The new trainees soon found that as
they leaned back there was another surprise in store. A specially
designed clamp in the seat snapped shut on the frame of the Walker and
ensured that they stayed seated until released. What they didn't know
was that as well as the clamp, there was also a transceiver that would
allow the teacher to select a desk number on his control console and
awaken any non-attentive pupil by energising the electro-prod secreted
in the miscreant's tight little anus. Attention was guaranteed after that!
Their instructor had arrived, and for the new pupils it was
something of a surprise to see the first male since their incarceration.
The instructor placed his briefcase on the desk and scanned the room,
his eyes pausing on the prominent silhouette of Tammy with her fettered
arms sticking way above the rest of the class.
He studied her for a minute then he proceeded to lay out his day’s notes.
Tammy looked around her at the classroom. Apart from the fact that it
was filled with naked women clamped into their seats, it was pretty much
like any other classroom. Only one object remained a mystery, and that
was a large, glass cabinet over in one corner which appeared to have
some sort of pole rising from the centre of the floor. For some reason,
she had a feeling that finding out what it was for might not be a
pleasant experience. She continued her inspection, eventually centring
her attention on the desk in which she sat. The chair was slightly
strange in that it had a missing section at the front that allowed her
pussy to push down into the gap with her own weight. The desk, however,
apart from the normal flat top, resembled some sort of control station.
The short face towards her lap was festooned with switches and control
dials of one sort or another, and lurking in several pockets were some
type of tools and gadgets. There was a rapping sound and all eyes were
drawn forward to the stern looking figure at the instructor's desk. For
a second, Tammy was stunned by the huge drawing that had appeared on the
classroom vid-screen. Staring straight at her was a technicolour image
of a vagina measuring perhaps six feet in height on that large teaching
screen. -
“The vagina ladies! Also known variously as, the pussy, fanny, love
nest. and in some less scholarly circles as the cunt. I trust you all
have one; anyone who hasn't may leave now!”
A ripple of laughter spread nervously around the room, but it was
strained and was soon replaced by silence. The instructor seemed a bit
peeved that his opening joke had gone down like a lead brick.
“Yes! well, as I was saying, the vagina; the sexual organ of
womanhood, and the downfall of man.” Another ripple of laughter. this
time a little more confident.
“You probably all think you know everything there is to know about using
this organ in the pursuit of pleasure; and you may well be right if
we're talking about your pleasure. But we're not! You are here to learn
how to use this hole in your body to impart
pleasure into men, or other women. That is your sole reason for being
here now. Here you will learn techniques that will allow you to give
value for money in your chosen trade. As a licensed LPG, you can be
re-tested at anytime and your licence revoked if you fail to please; -
so listen and remember everything you learn here.”
He paused and looked them over, searching for any signs that his lecture
was being taken light-heartedly. All the faces were solemn and attentive.
“Okay! So now we start. I think that the first thing is to show you all
just how ineffective you are. In front of you in the desk receptacle
numbered one you will find a test-tool. I want you all now to take it
out and insert the tool into your vagina and connect the retaining clip
to your clitoris. Anyone here not know where the clitoris is?” There
were no replies.
All around the classroom there was the sound of activity and Tammy,
unable to do anything, turned and looked at her neighbour. She saw the
dark skinned Afro girl pull the tool out and stare in astonishment at
the revealed device.
It was a monster vibrator, or so it seemed, and with it came a
connecting lead which drew out of the back of the receptacle.
Various sounds of dissent came from several of the inmates, probably
dodgy-collars like herself. There was no way they were going to stick
this thing in their pussies unless it was inserted by someone else
whilst they were incapable of resistance
The genuine NPG collars did as they were instructed; they'd already had
far worse things wandering around inside their hot little pussies, and
there was no way they were going to earn punishment for refusing such a
simple act. Grunts groans and gasps echoed around the room as dry
pussies were coaxed into accepting the prodigious length and girth of
these devices Tammy could now see the purpose of the cut-out in the
chair. With the entire class clamped down, it was the only way the
dildos could have been inserted without releasing them all first.
The hubbub died down, and it would seem that only three had refused to
insert the devices into their pussies. The instructor eyed them in turn.
“I warn you ladies, to refuse will not be so pleasant.”
The abstainers remained adamant. With a shrug the instructor checked the
desk number of the nearest dissident and typed a number into his
console. The result was immediate and spectacular. The girl shrieked and
screamed for no apparent reason, then began to jerk and convulse like a
maniac in her chair; but the clamp on her Walker held her firmly in
place. For several minutes she continued her frenzied performance and
then, as the instructor pressed a button, collapsed sobbing and beaten
in her chair. Crying bitterly, she pushed the monster into her crotch
and snapped the clip onto her clitoris.
By now it was apparent to all that the instructor had remote control
over every single Walker anal prod in the room. He began to check the
next refusal’s desk number, but smiled and relaxed as the two women
frantically began to stuff their pussies. They
finished the task and sat dejected and beaten as the instructor checked
his screens.
Aha! There was still one pussy unadorned according to his sensor
monitors. He checked the desk number and began to type it in.
“MMMMMMphh! MMMMph! MMMMMrrrrrrrtrt””
The sudden sounds made him look up as he was about to enter the last
digit and he saw a young, beautiful, gagged woman trying to attract his
attention; her wrists still clamped u: behind her neck. ;
“Ah! Yes 266, of course, you'll need help won't you. Allow me to be of
assistance,” he said rising and walking towards her. Tammy suddenly
wasn't sure which would be the worst; the electro shock treatment, or
having this strange man publicly push a massive dildo into her
vulnerable love tube. There was little choice.
The instructor pulled out the dildo and knelt down between her legs.
Tammy felt two fingers prise her apart and worm into her warm interior.
She flushed and a giggle went round the class. All eyes were on her as
the man routed in her defenceless opening. He was having a field day.
The fingers were virtually raping her as he smiled into her eyes,
challenging her to try and stop him. The fingers finally spread, and
Tammy felt the first touch of the dildo's head between his spreading d .
As it was he'd done her a favour. Her love tube was by now slick and wet
with the first juices of arousal, and the dildo slid easily inward. She
flinched as the clip snapped on to her sensitive clitoris, then stoically
endured as his hand remained to maul and squeeze her denuded love-lips.
Tammy's flush turned to a beetroot red. Thirty or more women were
quietly watching her being blatantly abused, and she could only sit and
allow it to happen. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek, and the
girls, sensing her shame and humiliation, turned away and studied the
vid-screen at the front of the classroom.
The abuse continued for several minutes, his activities now expanding to
encompass her breasts, both jutting blatantly forward as a result of her
arm restraint, but she could do nothing. Any show of anger or disgust
could only end with her jiggling and dancing on an electrified anal prod
as the instructor took his revenge.
“Well done 266!” he said as he finally rose and returned to his desk.
“But you should be more receptive, not sit there like a frozen cabbage.
Remember, you're supposed to be enjoying it! That's what your clients
will be paying for. But never mind, a good first time effort. You'll
learn better in the next few months.”
“Now ladies, we come to muscle control. But first I'll get you warmed up
and receptive.” He pressed a button on the desk, and simultaneously,
every buried dildo in the room buzzed into action drawing an assorted
range of gasps, groans and giggles.
It was a low level stimulation, not designed to bring about mind bending orgasmic explosions, but merely to keep the fettered
women simmering gently in a glow of early arousal. It had been found
over the years that classes so stimulated achieved far higher pass rates
than those who were expected to perform from a cold start. Something
similar to the way in which the large bovines of ancient history would
give up milk more easily if exposed to soft music.
One of the previously reticent women attempted to remove the vibrating
fiend from her love tunnel, only to find that the clitoral clip was a
one way device. It could be closed manually, but only opened when the
instructor operated a remote release. The buzzing fiend was going to
remain in her warm shaft until someone else allowed her to take it out.
The instructor spent several minutes consulting his notes in order to
allow his class to warm up. A sea of pink, flushed faces and slightly
heavier breathing from all told him they were ready to go on as he
cleared his throat in preparation for the lesson.
“Muscle control is the secret of successful manipulation of the male
member! Men can do their thing without you moving but if you can learn
the skills of internal muscle contractions, and learn to control them in
a flowing wave, you'll make your clients extremely satisfied and keen to
come back again!”
He turned a dial on the desk and the image of the huge pussy on the
screen changed to a series of bar graph designs, each bearing the
legends identical to desk numbers of the class inmates. -
“Okay, now we are going to try and see just how much pressure you can
exert, and the dildos will relay each woman's efforts onto the screen
here. Now tense the inner thigh and buttock muscles.”
The graphs on the vid-screen jumped and surged, finally settling at each
inmate's personal level of effort. The graphs were both numbered and
colour coded. 1 3 was red, 3 6 orange, and 6 10 green. The was an
eleventh division, but it was coded with words. ‘Exceptional’.
The instructor studied the screen, noting that, as expected, most were
in the red sector, a few in the lower orange, and one actually had
reached the upper orange and was bordering on green. 266 looked like
being a very good pupil, especially considering she was secured and
unable to use limbs to assist in producing leverage in any way.
He noted that three of the graphs had barely moved. The same three who
had originally refused to cooperate.
“Some of you girls seem to need a little encouragement.” he observed,
looking meaningfully at the offending women and reaching out to his
controls. Two of the graphs suddenly jumped to acceptable first time
levels, but a third remained obstinately inactive.
“Go stuff yourself you, perverted bastard,” shouted the owner of
the static pussy. “You can do what you like! I'm not going to perform
for you!”
All the graphs slumped back to zero as the whole class waited for the
instructors reply to this challenge of his authority. His hand went out
to the controls and the woman tensed in preparation for the searing pain
in her bottom. But the instructor suddenly smiled and instead pressed
another button. It was time to crush this little rebellion before others
decided to take up the challenge. The woman would pay dearly for her
show of defiance, and all for nothing. By the end of the day she would
willingly perform, of that he was absolutely sure.
Three, huge uniformed wardresses appeared and, seeing the girl indicated
by the instructor, they moved forward and released her struggling body
from the chair. She fought and cursed, but was soon gagged into silence
and her hands re-clamped to the Walker’s neck yoke. Now she was
frog-marched to the glass cubicle. -
The wardresses pushed her inside and, operating some controls, caused
the pole in the floor to slide downward. Now they positioned the woman
centrally over the device and shackled
her feet wide apart to floor mounted clamps. The controls were used
again, and even before the struggling woman knew what was happening, the
pole had slid silently out of the floor and was nudging her crotch.
She squirmed and tried to evade the advancing shaft, but was held in
position by the three wardresses. The whole class saw her eyes widen and
body stiffen as the monstrous diameter of
the intruding pole stretched her love nest wide and bored into her
interior.
The advance continued until everyone watching was sure that at least two
feet of steel were inside the fettered woman. In fact, it was only about
nine inches, but that was more than sufficient to have her raised on her
toes as the end of the device pre: against the internal end of her love
tube.
The wardresses indicated to the instructor that all was ready, and he
operated one of his many controls.
The scream of fear from the woman in the booth even penetrated her
immense gag as the shaft began its devilish task. The noise was loud and
the movement violent as the shaft began to jerk up and down ferociously.
The effect on the poor woman was to make her jump and jiggle
continuously as her tender orifice was brutally ravaged, seconds later
her muffled wails of despair increased to a new, even higher level. The
jerking rod had another secret. At timed intervals it would send painful
bolts of electrical energy pulsing through her violated pussy.
The instructor allowed the class to absorb the woman's terrible plight
in full before ordering the booth door closed. Instantly, the room
became silent, but the tormented woman continued her marionette-like
movements beyond the glass wall. The booth was sound proofed. The
terrible sounds of punishment would not interfere with the lesson, nor
could any gagged pleas affect the instructor's decision to leave her
there all day as a reminder any others of the folly of disobedience.
“Right ladies, shall we continue?” All the graphs leapt obediently into
action, and with slightly higher readings, he noted with a grin.
The instructor told them all to maintain the grip for a few minutes, and
sat back to savour the thought that over thirty, tight, hot fannies were
gripping those vibrating monsters within a few yards of his desk. It was
a sobering and enjoyable thought.
The morning progressed, and with careful tuition and a more willing
personal effort, most inmates had managed to reach a high orange rating
by the time the lunch bells sounded. Tammy was the prize pupil having
achieved several incursions into the low green area. It was a startling
performance and gave a good indication of the future levels this young
woman would achieve.
The clamps clacked open, and one by one the girls removed the throbbing
monsters from their crutches and replaced them in their receptacles as
they rose to leave. They were instructed to resume the same lesson as
soon as they returned, and to be ready by the time the instructor made
an appearance.
Tammy tried to rise but found her clamp still active. She was to remain
seated for some reason. The instructor waved at her questioning face,
smiled and left her all alone. Tammy sat wondering what was to come
next. She wasn't hungry, the special high energy supplement was more
than sufficient to take her through the day, and it was with some
trepidation that she realised why she'd been fed in this way. Her
instruction was going to be a genuine twenty-four hour affair.
The door swung open and, as she watched, the Major appeared with several
assistants all carrying equipment. Tammy couldn't decipher what her next
lesson was to be, but it looked severe judging by the heavy rubber
garments and strong tensioning tackle appearing beside her. _
The Major just studied her from a distance, noting with interest the
rating she had attained, which was still showing on the vidscreen. ‘
“Doing quite well I see 266. That's what I like to see, a pupil trying
her best.” Tammy sat quietly, flushing slightly at the compliment, but
still embarrassed that the readings were displaying a highly personal
act for all to see. The wardresses began to release her from the desk,
and having done so stripped the Walker from her body. The gag remained
as a mouth stretching reminder that she was never going to have complete
freedom until the day she left this place, if even then. Captain Sommes
was unlikely to allow all her training to go to waste, and almost
certainly would want to use it to the full when she first took delivery
of her new toy.
It was nice to be able to bring her arms down, and as the wardresses
moved forward to begin her next ordeal, Major Cunningham waved them back.
“You'd better stretch and get the kinks out now young lady, because in a
few minutes you won't be able to,” she advised.
Tammy took her advice and did a few aerobic exercises to smooth out her
knotted muscles. She could feel the Major watching and sensed something
more than a passing interest. Turning away, the Major checked something
on her electronic clip board and began to direct the wardresses in the
assembly of various fittings they would need. This took more than ten
minutes which Tammy used wisely in easing the tension in her body. |
“Right! First the rubber top and hood, then the Walker back on.”
Tammy stood unresisting as a thick, heavy rubber device was fitted over
her upper body. The arms took some ten minutes to be fully inserted due
to the awesome restriction of the rubber. Then the lace-up back was
drawn in, crushing her torso into an hour-glass shape that left her
rounded hips bulging out of the bottom in a flare of extraordinary
proportions.
The built-in helmet was pulled over her head and laced shut. Only her
eyes showed and two tiny holes for her nostrils
found that the constriction of this device had pressed the
gagging ball even deeper into her mouth. Now, with the covering of
rubber as well, sound production was a thing of the past.
Her arms were folded behind her back and strapped to the garment high up
on her shoulder blades, then two flaps at the back of the device were
drawn over her fettered arms and laced tightly into place.
There was no movement. Her arms were welded to her back and totally
useless as limbs until the garment was removed.
The wardresses indicated for her to sit down and awkwardly Tammy sat
sideways on a desk seat.
They took her feet and proceeded to slide them into boots, also of some
type of reinforced rubber, but moulded at the foot to form a normal
shoe. Normal in that it fully enclosed her foot. From there the
similarity disappeared as the toes of these boots ended in a ballerina’s
toe with a strong ring set into the end.
It was obvious they were not designed for walking, the ring, and the
fact that they had no heels guarantied that such a feat would be
impossible. 
Before she could react Tammy found herself picked up and transported to
the front of the classroom by two wardresses. Here she was placed
sitting on the floor as the wardresses busied themselves connecting a
steel cable to the ring in the toe of the left boot. Her gaze followed
the cable and came to rest on a hoist mounted in the ceiling of the
room. Movement on her right boot brought her attention back down. She
saw that her right boot was now firmly connected to a ring-bolt in the
floor.
As she pondered this arrangement, the wardresses fitted a second cable
to a ring in the top of her helmet, which until now she hadn't been
aware of. Following this additional cable she saw that it went to a
similar winch situated about three feet up a wall
A feeling that this was going to be an extraordinary event entered
Tammy's mind, but she had little-time to consider her final
configuration as the ceiling hoist began to wind in the slack.
Alarm showed on Tammy's face as she was slowly but surely lifted away
from the floor by her left leg. She tried to struggle but her right leg
was rapidly losing any freedom to flex as the ring bolt held it firmly
attached to the floor. The winch slowed, and moving at a creep speed it
steadily inched her higher, finally drawing her legs into a huge splits.
At last it stopped, and the Major stepped forward to inspect the bar
taut legs now stretching vertically from ceiling to floor in a perfectly
straight line.
Tammy's upper body was twisted down from the rigid pole of her lower
limbs, but even as she felt that the sideways strain was becoming
unbearable, the cable connected to her helmet began to pull her torso
upwards to the horizontal.
The winch stopped. Tammy was now a perfect human '‘T’, albeit in a
sideways inclination. The Major checked her over and compared notes with
those received from Captain Sommes this morning. The configuration was
correct. It wasn't exactly the device Brigette had designed, or the same
inclination, this was a far more complex arrangement, but it was
sufficient to train
266 in the art of a perfect sideways splits and future planned events! -
She watched thoughtfully as Tammy’s vaginal insert was replaced, and its
lead plugged into an auxiliary socket near the instructors desk. As she
contemplated the girl's plight an idea for Tammy's night entertainment
came into mind. She turned and addressed one of the wardresses.
“Before you fetch 266 after school, take 187 down to the dormitory and
leave her there. Inform me when you've got both of them down there and
make sure you have two sets of this rig ready.” The wardress nodded and
went about the final tensioning of Tammy into a finely tuned, vibrating
‘T’ of womanhood. The Major smirked to herself. Her own pet, dear 187,
may as well get to know Tammy; it looked as if they were going to be
spending a lot of time together after Tammy's training was complete!
Tammy was left alone in the silence of an empty classroom. She had no
idea what form her training would now take. The strain on her legs was
enormous and she groaned in effort as she attempted to break her bonds.
It was useless. Not even a ripple showed to give any indication that she
had loosened her restraints. The only effect was to produce a slight
tremor in her legs, similar to that of a twanging bowstring. She relaxed
as best she could and gave the Major credit for the most diabolical
device she could ever have imagined.
The class returned, lunch was over, and it was time to recommence the
training of vagina control. Speechless with awe, they filed past the
vibrating edifice of Tammy’s bondage exhibit. Without exception, they
were all stunned into silence by the sight of this beautiful woman in
such an exacting form of
bondage. each harbouring thoughts of fear that GP courses may also
contain something like this.
By the time the teacher returned they were all re-clamped at their desks
and inserted with the sensor probes. No-one had the slightest intention
of becoming noticed by their disobedience lest they were singled out for
a matching display at the other side of the desk.
The instructor switched his class to warm-up mode and then walked across
to Tammy's strained and hugely displayed form. At first he just walked
around her studying the enormity of her plight, then moving closer he
indulged in a little self enjoyment as he traced his fingers up and down
the taut, quivering flesh of her inner thighs. Tammy responded with
muffled gasps of exquisite pleasure, as the super-sensitivity of her
taut skin relayed devastating messages of arousal to her plugged pussy.
The instructor ran his fingers across her mound, noting as he did so,
the massive contraction of her pussy which almost drew the inserted
dildo in out of sight. He pursed his lips as he thought then, as if
reaching a decision, moved back to the desk.
“Right then! We did some basic exercises this morning on muscle control,
and I think now we'll study the level to which I
hope you will all rise.” He reached out and selected the control
for the auxiliary socket, and without hesitation, wound the dial
to full power.
The effect was dramatic. The tautly stretched ‘T the desk emitted a
muffled how! of helpless torment. Even from his position at the desk the
instructor could hear the subterranean rattle of the powerful dildo
vibrator through the cloaking surround of Tammy's lower body. The
monster was going berserk inside her love channel, and there was only
one outcome to such an undeniable assault.
Tammy's eyes desperately searched the classroom seeking any form of
help; but none came. Thirty or more faces stared back in fascinated
arousal as they watched one of their own being torn apart by her own
awakening forces of self destruction.
Their attention was drawn away as the instructor rose, and with his
pointer indicated the graph belonging to Tammy's vibrator. It was past
the green and well into the ‘Exceptional’ range. As they looked it was
rising in jerky steps towards the end of even that impossible level.
Tammy's pussy was performing almost maniacal contractions as the level
of stimulation rose to unbearable heights. She was crushing the
vibrator-sensor to
death in her efforts to relieve the burgeoning explosive energy in her
fettered form!
The day progressed, and whilst the rest of the class learned to control
their muscle control by less demanding method Tammy was left to quiver
and pulse in never ending ecstasy and torment. It was probably due to
her exotic display that this class attained the highest pass record of
any class since the opening of SAC-94. The inspiration she'd supplied,
both salutary and arousingly, was undoubtedly instrumental in allowing
her classmates to fully enjoy the sensation of controlled muscle
movements in their lower bodies.
The day drew to a close, and once again Tammy was left to Major Cunningham's special crew for 
her transport to whatever else awaited her.
The crew arrived, but before dismantling Tammy's display, they released
the woman from the booth. She was a broken woman. Any future displays of
disobedience had been erased forever.
Tammy watched as she was carried out, then contemplated her own
uncertain future with some excitement. What on earth
could surpass ‘the body shattering arousal of her present predicament?
She wasn't to be disappointed. Once released she was transported, still in 
bondage, to the dormitory below.


CHAPTER NINE
A NIGHT TO REMEMBER

On arrival, Tammy was placed on the floor and, as she rolled over, she
saw another woman lying nearby. attired in exactly the same equipment as
herself. 187, she presumed, studying the other closely. Like herself,
she was young, supple and beautiful; and more highly trained judging by
her number which showed that the woman must have been here one or two
weeks by now. Numbers started from the beginning of each month and could
reach over 1,000 by the end of each period. She herself was the 266th to
be processed this month.
The other woman locked eyes with Tammy, and she sensed no animosity,
more the interest of a fellow sufferer. And yet she must know that her
mistress intended to secure them both in a duet of mutual helplessness.
Just what that duet would entail, neither could have imagined in their
wildest dreams. Tammy looked around her and noticed that like the
classroom there was both a floor mounted ring-bolt, and a single
dangling hoist wire. The first nagging trepidations began to form in her
mind as she
pieced together the information at hand: two women. single /
fixings, same arrangement?
There was no time for further thought as her left leg and 187's Tight
leg were snapped onto the lifting ring. Another snap and the remaining
legs were connected to the ring bolt in the floor.
‘The winch whirred and simultaneously both women were “hoisted by a
single leg, but not to the same bar taut twanging _tautness of the
classroom. There was still enough slack to allow movement with the
slightly bent, floor anchored legs. As Tammy visually checked this, she
also noticed that instead of their
ringed toes being connected directly to the ring-bolt, they were in fact
connected by about two feet of Dural chain and a powerful looking spring.
Dural aluminium, she knew, was lighter than aluminium and yet stronger
than steel. There would be no escape from this attachment!
Hands connected the head rings to opposite walls and as opposing winches
hummed into action, Tammy found herself being pulled horizontal and
slightly away from the other suspended girl. The winched stopped with
them something like
twelve inches apart, and tapering to a join at the suspension hook above.
There was movement in her crotch and she could feel the intruding anal
prod being removed from the Walker. Presumably this would leave a hole
in its frame directly in line with her nervously clenching rectal ring.
But what would be replacing it?
Her wait was short, and, as it turned out, two objects would be
replacing the prod; one refilling the recently vacated rear hole, and
another her widely opened pussy.
Tammy had managed to get a glimpse of the new inserts as they were
handed up to her tormentor. Both were shiny dural steel,
about twelve to fourteen inches long and had round flat flanges at mid
point of their length. 
The flanges of the two shafts bottomed out against her pubic lips and
rectal ring, and only then did Tammy understand the
significance of the double ended devices. The other ends were going into
187!
The winch above whirred softly, and as they were drawn taut, their
bodies slowly met along the entire length of their splayed limbs,
burying the twin shafts completely into the mated women’s helpless
orifices. From ankle to ankle, they were in contact, including their
bottom cheeks and thrusting pubic mounds. It was a staggering image of
their predicament that formed in Tammy's mind. But even that would pale
as the full extent of the devious Major's idea came to light.
Hugely strong rubber bands that had been located around the hoist wire
and the lower fixing point were now worked up and down the paired legs,
until finally both bands rested tightly around the joined thighs of the
suspended women.
Major Cunningham dismissed the wardresses and stood surveying her
creation. Brigette would be pleased, she thought. The two tautly
sculptured and joined women now formed a
crucifix of staggeringly erotic proportions, suspended like a star in
mid air. ;
Taking out a pocket vid-recorder, the Major walked around the quivering
feline cross, recording every detail of their display from all angles.
She pocketed the camera and moved to a set of controls nearby.
“Fun time ladies, hope you enjoy your night together.” She pressed a
button and both of the wall mounted winches started
together, winding in three inches and then releasing in a never ending
cycle.
The crucified women instantly began to moan and squirm. They | were
being strained apart some six inches and then, as the winch released,
snapped back together by the powerful elastic round their thighs and the
powerful spring dragging strained legs back into a straight line. But
that was of small consequence. The real trauma came from the fact that
their separation was drawing both of them off the deeply inserted steel
shafts located in their spread orifices, only to be plunged powerfully
back onto them as the rubber drew them together. They were helplessly
raping each other whilst suspended and stretched in mid air.
Brenda was busy with her camera again, ignoring the almost instant rise
to orgasmic torment engineered by the massive, masochistic awareness of
their plight. She was too busy filming the incredible spectacle of their
clover-leaf arrangement of buttock mounds as it expanded and then
smacked together with muscle joggling ferocity. It was a truly
astounding sight. First the glimpse of steel lengthening into a rod,
then Wham! it was
gone; engulfed by two rigidly sculpted rear ends. This was truly
poetry in motion, she thought, move another angle.
This was premier film action. The girls’ love lips were already dripping
with the juices of arousal, and with each enforced, smacking ki: they
were sending glistening drops of liquid through the air. The sight of
both stretched and invaded pussies gliding back and forth on the steel
was riveting entertainment.
With a returning sense of her position as Unit Commander, Major
Cunningham suppressed her natural urge to continue watching and slipped
the camera away. She had to go, the other dormitory inmates would be
here soon, and it wouldn't do for them to find her drooling over this
mind boggling exhibition.
With something akin to swooning horror, both tortuously vibrating women
heard the Major's footsteps retreating. Oh! God, they were to be left in
this horrendous display.
Almost before the Major's footsteps had died away, there came a new
noise; the noise of all the returning dormitory inmates. School was
over for the day, and their bound and gagged exercises were completed,
whereas the ordeal of 266 and 187 was only just beginning. 
The door burst open amidst the din of many chattering voices, then
suddenly it began to abate as more poured in and were stunned into
silence by the new dormitory decoration.
The rhythmically pulsing stretching star of womanhood was soon
surrounded by silent, staring faces. For more than a minute no-one
spoke. The only sound was the whirring of winches and the smack of
meeting flesh, punctuated by the muffled moans of never ending arousal
and torment.
“Jesus! what the hell do those GPs get up to?” voiced one of the girls
at last. “Do SO/BDs have to do this?”
Another girl moved in closer and studied the eyes showing through a
helmet, then walking around the animated exhibit studied the other
component of the star.
“No, I don't think so,” she said at last. “This is something special for
the new girl, 266 isn’t it? I think the other one is the girl who was
taken away by Major Cunningham a couple of weeks ago as a personal pet.”
The group milled around, all wanting ‘to see every angle of the aerial
orgasm that the two girls had become.
“I can’t see any of us getting any sleep with that thing performing in
here,” remarked one girl, referring unintentionally to the mated women
as a singular object.
“I'm going to be a horny as a toad even without being able to see them,
and the sounds are going to cook my pussy by morning.”
“Aw! Shut up you sex mad tart,” joked another. Think of it from their
point of view. I doubt if they think it’s all that amusing stretched
like that and screwing each other to death.”
“I am thinking of it from their point of view; that’s why I'm so
horny,” she said, rubbing her crotch with obvious arousal. “I tell
you, that set-up would have a nun in orgasm within ten minutes.”
“About two minutes I'd say,” retorted a tall girl at the rear. The other girl
spun round to see who had answered.
“Sorry 213, I forgot you were a nun before the UPS zapped you.” The
ex-nun had been having an illicit love affair and had been caught one
night as she slipped out of the monastery to meet her lover.
“It's okay, and I wasn't joking, I've just had a super little orgasm
at the back here while you were all watching them, and I'm not even one
of the twanging parts of that rig.”
The crowd laughed, then one of the more inventive had an idea.
“Hey, look girls, they've left their clitty’s unclamped. How about us modifying the
arrangement a bit?”
The crowd seemed in agreement and, as the helplessly pumping starred
pair watched, their new, self-appointed antagonist fetched some more
equipment from the dormitory bondage
locker. Her choice was two nipple clamps and a length of strong latex cord.
As the crowd watched with murmurs of understanding. She clipped both
presented clitoral nodules, a task of some difficulty due to the
movement, but finally managing to capture both women's arousal triggers
in a grip of steel. Next she connected the two clips with the latex.
Result! Two endlessly stretching and contracting nodules; and groans of
despair from the entrammelled women of the star.
Within seconds, the orgasmic eruptions of both women had become one
endless sea of devastatingly erotic, rippling movement, and more than
one of the watching crowd turned away in embarrassment as they were
unable to control their own explosions. The mere sight of that pulsing
display was sufficient to send searing bolts of feeling through the
crotch of every woman present. For both masochistic and sadistic
persuasions there was an indescribable element of arousal in that
oscillating spectacle of tormented arousal.
Major Cunningham returned to her office and sat at the desk. Her face
was flushed, and now that she was guarantied some privacy, she indulged
in a bout of pussy rubbing. Then, thinking of her co-conspirator, she
swung round to the desk and retrieved the vid-cartridge from her pocket.
“That should give Brigette the hots,” she muttered to herself as she
slipped the cartridge into the tele-vid transmission unit and played it
into Captain Sommes' private receiver.
The vid-cartridge had only been ejected about thirty seconds when the
vid-phone glowed into life. A highly excited Brigette appeared on the
screen.
“Wow! Brenda, where did you get that idea? It's incredible, fantastic;
Mind-blowing!”
The Major smiled. These youngsters thought they knew all there was to
know about designing bondage scenes, but she could still show them a
thing or two. It didn't occur to her that she was in fact only five
years older.
“Oh! just something I threw together,” she answered, trying her best to
be nonchalant. “It was your description of that display idea that
inspired me. From there it was easy to see the full potential of the
display. Think it will look nice in the hallway at your place over the
weekends?”
“Yes sure, but how long can you keep them like that?” Brenda thought
about that.
“Not sure really, I'll be able to tell you better in the morning after ---!”
“The morning? You're going to leave them like that overnight?”
Brigette’s face was a treasure as she tried to grasp the mind bending
orgasmic arousal the two women would have to endure,
“Why not? It’s the only way to find out, and that 266 has shown
exceptional progress on her first day. I reckon they should be able to
manage a whole weekend after extra training.”
“You know you've really selected a winner for a pet with that one. To
tell you the truth, I'm as jealous as hell. But let's see how
they're doing; I'll patch through the internal vid so you can watch.”
For an hour the two senior officers watched their proteges and discussed
technical details that would improve their pets’ performance, noting
with interest the modification carried out by the dormitory inmates, all
of whom were now secured to their beds and fully immobilised for the night.
It was evident from the amount of writhing movement in those bedded
forms than none was going to have a restful night. Not a single
spreadeagled form was still. All were wriggling and squirming as the
sounds of the rhythmically pulsing star in their midst drove each and
every one to devastating levels of impossible, unrelievable sexual
arousal; each in turn aroused by opposing thoughts; some imagining
that they were responsible for the girls’ incredible plight, others that
they had become one of those doomed human components of the star.
It was debatable who was worse off; the girls on the star suffering
almost permanent orgasm, or the stretched figures on the beds who were
unable to reach that elusive, magical moment without the use of their
limbs. 
The watching officers finally decided it was time to go and, with some
reluctance, they broke the connection supplying them with moment by
moment vision of that star of torment. Neither of them expected to sleep
well that night with the knowledge of what was going on in that
dormitory, but they would try. 266 and 187 had no choice. Sleep they
would not, writhe, squirm and orgasm they would!
Morning dawned and, as the others were released, the star continued to
pulse and moan until the wardresses got around to them. Lowered and
unfettered, they lay exhausted on the floor. With the branks out and the
wardresses busy packing the
equipment away, they were for the first time in a position to talk.
Tammy spoke first.
“Hi I'm Tammy,” she said, smiling at her overnight partner.
“The name's Vera,” offered the other. “That was a hell of a way to meet.
don't you think?” Tammy nodded her agreement before asking the other
woman if she knew anything about their final fate. The answer was
encouraging. 
“Yes, I've been told what the score is. We're both lucky in a way. Major
Cunningham and Captain Sommes are friends and we are going to be their
playthings. They're strict, and you can expect plenty more like last
night, and some even more demanding experiences, but the main thing is
they're okay. They'll look after us, which is more than some of these
other girls can expect.”
“How did they take you; were you an NPG?” The other woman shook her head.
“No, I was a LPG area inspector, until some of the girls got together
and set me up. They took the Ringer frame off one of the NPGs on West
Street, dressed me in her forged LPG uniform and fitted me into the
frame. After that it was a waste of time
protesting. No-one would believe me and they threatened to have me sent
to an FT unit if I kept it up.”
Tammy wondered if any woman was safe any more. The whole corrupt system
was moving towards a state that existed simply by using women for sport.
Although she didn’t know it, this was not very far from the truth.
With the appearance of the frozen exhibits of the ex-women freedom
fighters in many town squares, the remaining subversives found
themselves on the defensive. With the will to fight being crushed by the
enormity of their possible demise, they were easy meat for the vigilante
squads who were now hunting any slightly bolshy woman for dispatch to
the SACs on the pretence that they were subversives.
It was a trend that was to re-shape society's perception of females in a
most permanent way. Soon there would only be Ladies the protected
variety like the SAC officers, and then there would be females. Females
would be at risk of Ringering for almost any reason, or in some cases
simply because someone with power wanted that particular woman for
themselves!
The two, tired women were able to talk for several minutes, and as a
result, it was soon agreed that although the night had been strenuous
and traumatic, both had experienced highs that until now had only been
dreamt about. They couldn’t know that a jubilant Major and her patched
in co-conspirator were listening to their conversation with some glee. .
“Look's like we've got a winning team here,” Brenda remarked. Brigette
agreed. This pair of women were going to supply many hours of erotic
spectacle for the two officers to enjoy once they were securely fastened
together in one form or another.
Apparently, the unseen forces controlling their activities had decreed
that these exhausted women were to have an easy day. As a result they
were fed, gagged, fitted to Walkers and taken to the piercing
department. Both were highly reluctant about the prospects of being
ringed, but then there was little they could do
without earning a dose of correction current straight up their perfect
bums.
Apart from the actual thought of being ringed sex slaves, the actual
fitting was painless and swift. A pain-nuller gun soon reduced each
tender object to be pierced to numbed flesh. Nipples, clitoris and nose
were adorned with new dural metal rings within minutes of their entering
the room. Another attachment was, however, slightly more unnerving
and definitely unexpected.
Each girl was fitted with a stainless eyelet in the tip of her tongue.
Without connection to anything it was barely noticeable and would soon
become a fitment carried unconsciously until it was put to use. The
disturbing thoughts of what such a connection could be used for were
soon dismissed from mind as each girl was afforded a brief sight of
their ringed breasts in a nearby mirror.
Both immediately felt guilty sensations of arousal as they contemplated
their even more controllable bodies, and the visible signs of a final
reduction to owned chattels.
The medic sprayed neuro-skin on all the new punctures to ensure a quick
and germ free healing. By morning it would be as if the rings had been
in for years, and neither woman had any illusions as to there non-use
being prolonged.
Now they were put to rest. It was essential that they caught up on lost
sleep from the night before; but the Major's idea of rest and sleep was
quite different from the normally accepted mode.
Taken back to the dormitory, the Walker'd women saw a new and even more
ominous device had appeared. It resembled a large, open ended tube
mounted horizontally on a machine that was obviously designed to rotate it.
It looked as if the planned scenario was to be somewhat less static then
their last arrangement together.
Gags were removed and Vera was fitted with another mouth filling
device. It was immediately recognisable as a double ended
dildo gag, and Tammy had no illusions as to who was going on the other end.
She was not disappointed. Pushing her forward, the wardress positioned
her directly in front of 187 and proceeded to insert the gag by pressing
each woman's head together. Soon they were secured in a permanent face
to face configuration with lips joined in an enforced kiss.
Wrists were released, only to be re-shackled immediately after being
placed around the neck of the other woman. They were reshackled to the
other woman's Walker. Result! Two women in a kissing, cuddling embrace.
Four ankles now joined the upper body in mutual metal restraint, and a
further band of flexi-dural was soon threaded through metal loops on the
two Walker's to draw waists, and of course pussies into close contact.
The mated pair were lifted by strong hands and fed lengthways into the
waiting maw of the internally padded tube. Compressed air hissed, and
before either shackled woman knew what was
happening, the walls of the tube began to encroach on their already
limited space.
Within seconds they were supported centrally in the tube and pressed
tightly against each other. The positioning ensured that enough of their
heads were showing to allow breathing, but the swelling inflated padding
was sufficiently far advanced up their necks as to ensure that their
heads were comfortably supported.
Even before the drive motor of the machine started, both women knew what
was going to happen. They were, however, pleasantly
surprised at the speed of rotation which was far lower than had been
expected.
With the cylinder and its mated occupants smoothly rotating, the
wardresses left them to rest. And rest they did.
The cylinder was only completing one revolution every few minutes, so
that with gentle progression each woman found herself in a top or bottom
position, thus eliminating any stress
caused by being held for a long period whilst bearing the weight of her
partner.
It was extremely pleasant, and with the added softness of another woman
in close contact, both were soon feeling the warm glow of sexual arousal. -
Tammy squirmed and worked her mound against the other woman, who
immediately responded in kind. Their copious juices of arousal mixed and
lubricated the smooth skin of their labial lips producing the most
exquisite sliding feelings.
The pressure of demanding lust was building and refused to be denied.
Each of the luscious bodies were writhing and squirming against each
other, both women determined to extract the lion’s share of erotic
stimulus from the other's soft pliable form. Deliciously squeezed and
flattened breasts throbbed with tingling
arousal, and nipple found engorged nipple in a mating of mutual,
sensuous probing.
Enmeshed thighs rippled with straining effort, and hips ground endlessly
together in a column of wanton lust. Neither could control the blazing
furnace of feeling consuming their encapsulated forms as they exploded
into mutual fulfilment that went on and on as they wriggled and writhed
against each other.
Exhaustion was nature's only recourse to bring this shattering orgy of
self indulgence to a close.
Tired to the point of collapse from the previous night, both soon
drifted into a cozy, lustful slumber. Even the arrival and bustle of the
returning dormitory inmates several hours later failed to disturb their
blissful sleep.
Once again the whole dormitory suffered a restless night as they
contemplated the revolving tube of mated femininity in their midst.


CHAPTER TEN
TAMMY GETS A SNEAK PREVIEW

Twenty-four hours passed before the thoroughly rested and now subverted
girls were released. The morning awakening had brought renewed
conviction of their mutual enjoyment. Each felt that they could have
stayed for ever within the soft, exciting embrace of the other. The
enforced kissing was no longer an unavoidable, alien affair but instead
was now an active, lip flexing, conscious effort to convey feelings of
love and affection to the other. Each woman was furious that she was
unable to show her emotions by trusting her tongue into the others
mouth; and both women were actively squirming against each other and
promoting more powerful feelings in each other's body. The feeling was
mutual, both Tammy the confirmed heterosexual, and Vera the tough,
no-nonsense, ex area inspector were now established lovers of female
contact.
The wardresses arrived and they were duly released and separated, and
187 was led away to some other ordeal of training arranged by Major
Cunningham. As she was prodded down the dormitory, Vera looked back over
her shoulder with a longing look. Then she was gone and Tammy was left
to consider her own future as she was fed and re-shackled to her own
wrist manacles.
Major Cunningham appeared, and both Tammy and the wardresses were taken
aback by the fact that she was wearing a smart, two piece suit with a
skirt. No-one had ever seen her before without the regulation officer’s
trousered uniform. Tammy
had a distinct feeling that this change of apparel had something to do
with her next assignment.
The Major spoke briefly to the enlisted women and then disappeared
without approaching her at all, and Tammy wasn't sure what had been
said. She was soon to find out.
Major Cunningham had ordered that she be put on light duty and to be
delivered to her office for clerical work. Both Tammy and the wardresses
felt that this was a suspicious order, but obeyed without question.
Tammy was duly delivered, and left to a seated Major behind her huge
desk. Brenda rose and came over to Tammy as she stood slightly
apprehensive, then remembering Vera's words that they would be looked
after, she relaxed while a close inspection of her new adornments was
carried out. The piercing had healed beautifully, and even when Major
Cunningham moved her
nipple rings she was surprised to find that there was no soreness at all. 
Her gag was removed and the eyelet in her tongue given a
lengthy survey. The Major seemed satisfied and led her round the desk.
Now the Walker was removed, and reaching below the knee hole of the
desk, the Major produced a small trolley which ran smoothly on four
hover-castors. She indicated that Tammy should kneel on the device and
stood watching as her command was carried out.
Naked and inviting, Tammy knelt patiently as the Major pulled several
items of restraint from a desk drawer and commenced to shackle her into
a slave girl's kneeling pose. In addition to the normal wrist and ankle
restraints, Tammy was also secured to
the trolley, ensuring that she stayed properly positioned for whatever
was to come.
Not sure what was to happen, she sat silently as the Major pushed her
trolleyed form back under the desk with her shorn head facing out
towards the Major's chair. The back of the cavity which formed the front
of the desk was closed, so this was the only way in.
Brenda seated herself and drew the chair in until it was necessary to
spread her legs and put her feet on Tammy's mounting trolley at either
side of her kneeling form. Grasping her head, the Major firmly but
gently pulled it forward, lifting her skirt, so as to feed Tammy's head
beneath its folds.
Tammy was startled to find that the Major was wearing no
knickers. Her naked pussy was only inches from the kneeling woman's face!
Even more startling was the fact that the Major had various items of her
mons pierced and fitted with shiny, metal devices. The devices weren't
rings, but instead, tiny snap hooks; one hanging from a clitoris which
was obviously aroused, and one from each side of the lush, firm lips of
her love tunnel.
A hand appeared in her limited field of vision and, grasping both
Tammy's head and one of the side mounted clips, the Major ordered her to
stick out her tongue.
With her recently acquired instinct to do exactly as she was told,
Tammy complied. Before she was aware of the Majors intentions, the snap
hook was connected to the eyelet in her tongue. She tried to draw back
but instantly regretted the manoeuvre as the much more powerful
fastening of her captors fleshy, firm love lips dragged her tongue
painfully out.
Snap! The clip from the other mound of her mons joined its partner in
her eyelet, and Tammy found that she was secured with her tongue resting
centrally in the hot moist cleft of her tormentor. The third connector
soon joined her nose ring to the Major's clitoris.
For the second time since her capture Tammy found her face buried in a
woman's crotch!
This time she found it was an altogether different experience. The
Major's thighs were smooth and firm, and she smelled fragrant and
inviting. Even the musky smell of arousal was sweet and not at all like
the sour smell she had been forced to endure from the gross Inspector.
The Major eased both her chair and the trolley of her captive forward
into the desk cavity, then arranged her skirt to cover the head and
shoulders of the subjugated and secured woman between her legs; then
Tammy heard her voice from above the desk.
“I've got a lot of boring paperwork to do today 266, so if you want me
to stay in a good mood you had better keep me happy. Nothing too
elaborate, just a nice, steady titillation if you please. And a word of
warning, if you stop or make a noise I'll have you on a Ringer frame
for two or three days at maximum settings.”
Tammy eased her tongue forward and felt the two clips tug gently at her
captors love lips as she burrowed inward. The thighs tensed alongside
her face, then relaxed as she settled down to a steady rhythm of
sensuous tongue movements inside the Major's warm, silky channel.
It soon became obvious from the sounds of scribbling and rustling paper
that the Major had forgotten about her live presence under the desk.
She was no more than a pleasant feeling between her legs as she worked.
Staff came and went, orders were given, vid-calls made; and all the
time Tammy worked quietly away in her little den. She had become a
living vibrator to be secretly enjoyed.
It was her first real taste of her future employment, and she liked the
taste. The Major was succulent and pleasant; a real woman; warm,
alive, firm and inviting; and above all her mistress owner for the
foreseeable future until Captain Sommes claimed her prize. It felt good
to be tethered to this powerful, influential woman in such a way.
Occasionally, when the Major was thinking about something she would
reach down and unconsciously pat or stroke the smooth shaved head
between her legs and squeeze Tammy's face with her warm exciting thighs:
much the same as an aroused woman would adjust a deeply buried dildo
vibrator.
Lunch break came, and Tammy felt the Major reach down and carefully
unclip her from that well lubricated pussy.
She expected to be rolled out of her tiny hideaway and released, but the
Major had other ideas. Instead she left her as she was, with a caution
that she'd be back after lunch to resume the work.
Tammy waited patiently and was eventually rewarded by her return. But
her re-connection to the Major's pouting pussy was to be in a different
mode.
Only one clip was used this time, the single clip to her clitoris,
whilst the nose ring was connected to a thin chain dangling from the
underside of the desk. Tammy was forced to keep her head facing upwards
and still with her tongue pointing directly towards the clitoral anchor.
Tammy found that with this arrangement she could keep the Major happy
by simply moving the tethered nodule gently up and down or withdrawing
her tongue.
Hours later she was becoming bored but was afraid to stop the gentle
wiggling of her tongue. However, when as a sergeant entered the office,
she brazenly decided to have some fun.
Tammy wiggled her tongue violently from side to side and juggled Major
Cunningham's clitoris in a vigorous, fluttering movement. She laughed
silently as she heard the Major's sharp intake of breath and broken
sentence. She could imagine the questioning look on the sergeant's face
as she wondered what had caused the sudden interruption. Tammy was
completely
hidden from view, and the Major was surely not going to tell of her
presence. -
The Major began again, and Tammy went into action once more, this time
drawing her tongue fully in and closing her lips around the stretched
nodule. She sucked the root of the Major's fun trigger with powerful
sucks and continued to flip the end from side to side inside her mouth.
The Major's thighs clamped tight against her face as she tried to stop
the marauding tongue, but this tensing only engineered a stronger
feeling in her boiling pussy.
With a creditable show of self control, Brenda managed to complete her
audience with the sergeant without too many
groans or strangled, gasping sentences, and the sergeant duly left
without ever discovering the cause of her superior’s strange behaviour.
With the closing of the door behind the departing sergeant, Tammy felt
her trolley being pulled out as the Major moved back; compelling her
to follow the leading clitoris as it yanked her tongue after her
retreating form. With the trolley part way out, her nose chain pulled
her head back and forced her tongue to be dragged painfully out by the
more distant clitoris.
“You little vixen,” raged the Major, and moved her hips slightly
backward to further increase the tension on Tammy's tongue. I've a good
mind to have you Ringer’d right now for that little stunt. If I didn’t
have so much work to do, I would. Now get back under there and behave
yourself.”
The trolley moved back in, but not before Tammy had managed to strain
her eyes upwards and see a twinkle in her eye.
Tammy settled down to a steady and satisfying stimulation for the Major,
now more convinced than ever that she was going to enjoy her stay here;
and later be handed over to someone who
would know just how to keep her mischievous spirit under control
The day came to an end and the staff went home. Now the Major ordered
Tammy to perform the stunt she'd tried earlier, then turning to the
vid-phone, she contacted Captain Sommes.
“I've e tried that little idea you had, and I must say it’s got a lot of
merit,” she informed Brigette, at the same time feeling her human
stimulator winding up to full speed.
“Oh! good, I'll look forward to that then. By the way, where is 266
now?” The Major gasped slightly before answering.
“Still under the desk, she hasn't finished the test yet!”
Somewhat enviously, Brigette watched as Brenda's face grew steadily redder and
her breathing deeper; then, as if she had
gone insane, the Major began to groan and beat her hands on the desk as
the busy tongue below pushed her over the brink.
It was a strange sight for Brigette. To all intents and purposes the office was
empty; only a demented Brenda was in evidence.
Only she could know that delightfully restrained 266 was busy in her
little cubby-hole below the vid-phone’s vision.
Again the feeling of envy made itself felt, but she pushed it down with
the thought that a few concessions to her friend now would result in a
far better programmed 266 at the end of her training. Besides, she
didn't begrudge her friend a little fun. It wasn’t as if it was a man
thrusting his throbbing shaft into something she now considered to be
her very own property!
Brigette watched as Brenda's orgasm swelled to a grand finale and then
ebbed slowly away. A husky command brought the busy, unseen tongue below
her desk to a stop, although with it still fettered to her nodule of
pleasure, it merely required a command to send it wriggling delightfully
into motion whenever the Major chose. Like its owner, the tongue was a
warm and
silky, leashed pet. 266 waited patiently with her clitoral titillator
obediently chained to its task.
As punishment for her earlier transgressions, the Major reWalker'd her
trainee, then leashed the errant tongue in order to lead her back to her
dormitory. It was a novel and somewhat embarrassing experience for Tammy
being led in this way. Tammy and 187 were in fact the first inmates to
ever be fitted
with tongue eyelets, it was therefore something of a novelty for others
to see.
The novelty soon wore off, mainly because Tammy from that day on found
herself regularly parked somewhere, connected solely by her tongue to a
parking point which prevented any unauthorised wandering. It was the
ultimate in persuaders for keeping a girl contained.


CHAPTER ELEVEN
LEARNING THE TRADE

That night was fairly uneventful. 187 had disappeared for now, and Tammy
was secured in the same fashion as all other inmates. Nothing special,
just the general, stretched display of sleeping womanhood. Her next few
weeks were to see her returning to the classroom for GP training. It was
relatively mundane after the excesses of full BD training and her new
owner's demanding instructions. But having said that, it was always
Tammy who would have to work the hardest to achieve results in the GP
classroom due to the fact that she was always
restrained, whereas her class mates had full use of their bodies to
achieve the same results.
A typical example was the hip movement training. Lined up facing a wall,
each girl had upon instruction mounted herself on the row of offered
phalluses affixed to the wall, each had adjusted the object of her
impalement to a height she found comfortable; unlike Tammy who had to
try and explain to the instructor which way to move the thing with her
hands secured behind her neck and a mouth full of gag.
The instructor didn't seem to mind the delay, but then it did give him
even more excuse to play with her body.
The exercise consisted of using solely hip movement, coupled with the
newly learned skill of muscle control to bring about an ejaculation from
the sensor-endowed phalluses. These devices were programmed to react in
a similar way to a man and would produce an actual ejaculation if
manipulated correctly.
The trick was to do this with one's feet secured to the floor, ensuring
that lifting and lowering of toes could not influence the
outcome. The phalluses could only be coerced into reacting by use of the
hips.
It was truly a heart-warming sight to see thirty or more naked rumps
gyrating and twisting as the girls struggled to get those phallic
intruders to cooperate. It was not often one got the chance to see so
many women deliberately raping themselves. Tammy, on the other hand,
provided a spectacle of staggering eroticism as she struggled in her
bondage.
Strangely, most of the women only succeeded in triggering their own
orgasm whilst the phallus remained maddeningly inactive.
None of the women noticed the smirk on the face of the instructor as he
watched the penis raising sight of this row of women in a constant state
of orgasmic writhing. He only switched the phalluses to an active mode
after they had moaned and squirmed their way through most of the morning.
Another event in the training program to be somewhat more traumatic for
Tammy than the other GPs, was the lesson which was designed to
familiarise the girls with the various types and shapes of vibrators and
dildos they would be expected to accommodate in their various holes
during the course of a normal day's work.
This was usually done by allowing the women to impale themselves on the
presented phallic object of a large wheel device. The wheel contained
something like a dozen different shapes and sizes, and after the
foremost dildo had been fully accepted in both holes and worked for some
five or ten minutes, it would step around to bring another type into line.
The women were expected to simply bend forward and reverse onto each new
device, and in this way it was easy to align and ease the monstrous
shafts into the deep recesses of their bodies. The same luxury was not
afforded the luckless 266.
Tammy was encased in a heavy duty latex cocoon and then folded into a
tight bundle. Immediately, the reason for the hole in the rear of her
cocoon was apparent. In this configuration her
buttocks and denuded pussy protruded, neatly offered for her next lesson.
The trussed woman was now installed on a machine with sliders that held
her bare and vulnerable rear end directly above one of
the many phalluses on the wheel. Tammy was going to do her thing
vertically.
The instructor flipped a switch, and all the other performing girls
stopped their antics to watch as her trussed form powered downward.
There was a sharp, involuntary intake of breath from the watchers as
Tammy plunged onto the first huge dildo, and her keening gasp of shock
reverberated around the classroom. Twenty times she was impaled and
withdrawn before the machine moved her position and proceeded to plunder
her rear and infinitely less elastic orifice. The keening, muffled sound
of protest grew considerably in volume.
Now she was halted and the wheel below stepped round one
notch to present a larger and infinitely more interestingly shaped dildo
to the descending, offered pussy.
Tammy strained and struggled, but to no avail. Her performance was
destined to run its full course, and she would eventually be conversant
with a whole plethora of interesting and some damned painful internal
body decorations.
Straight, huge dildos surged back and forth, then curly devices and some
curved like bows. Several even rotated as they plundered her charms.
Then there was the awesome expanding type. easy to accept as they
drilled their small diameters into her love nest; but not so easy coming
out when expanded to more than double the entry size.
Perhaps the worst of all were the relatively normal sized phalluses,
equipped with base plates for clitoral stimulation and mons
compression. These shattering inserts could not be denied. As a result,
Tammy gave the whole class a demonstration of copious fluid discharge
and mind-numbing orgasmic gyrations as she slid remorselessly up and
down on those devilish, phallic intruders. She could only peer
helplessly through the eye slots of her hood as the class finished their
exercises and stopped to watch her own mechanised rape.


CHAPTER TWELVE
TAKING A STROL

And so the training continued, until by the end of the third month,
Tammy was fully trained and had passed all tests with flying colours.
She could have been released as a fully trained SO/BD, but her rapid
assent to trained status had caught Captain Sommes off guard. She had
yet to put her plan into action and have the custody of 266 allocated to
herself before McKinley and his cohort discovered what had happened.
So Tammy remained in the capable and appreciative hands of Major
Cunningham for the final days of her incarceration in SAC-94,
Meanwhile, the outside world had changed dramatically in the intervening
months since her night at the fancy dress party. Women pets were
regularly paraded in public by their owners without any comment from
possible women's action groups. In fact, the participants of most
women's action groups were now themselves pets! The ugly unwanted
variety were either frozen forever, or producing babies in some far off
land.
So it came to pass that Major Cunningham needed to visit the mainland,
and with the blessing of Captain Sommes, she took 266 to experience her
first exposure to the changed world in her new role as a pet.
At first, Tammy was mortified by the thought of being paraded in public,
naked and controlled by a Walker. But the fear soon passed when she
found 187 would provide the other half of the matched pair. They would
see many other pets on their travels!
The Major had her pets, both personal and loaned, attired in her finest
walking out rigs, designed to be fitted in addition to the Walker, and
guarantied to emphasise the controlled and trained nature of her leashed
pets.
Thigh boots of an open style were first. Basically they were black
patent leather stilettos with a system of straps reaching up the thighs.
The result was that both women's legs were encased in a ladder of tight
straps that cinched and accentuated their long limbs. Next came the
waspy cinchers, also patent leather and designed as an integral part of
the Walker and replacing the normal waist band restraint. Once cinched,
both women were reduced to incredible, hour glass figures. The Walker
also had one other fundamental difference. The normal behind-neck wrist
clamps were instead situated high up between the shoulder blades.
Tammy and her partner soon found that this was a considerably more
strained position when, after being fitted with shiny shoulder length
latex gloves, their hands were forced up and wrists secured behind them.
Another band lower down soon crushed their folded elbows together and
pulled them tightly into the small of the back.
A bust halter was added, shaping and sculpturing the already magnificent
orbs into projected turrets of inviting femininity. A similar hip halter
ensured that buttocks were presented in an even more provocative manner,
and the split crotch strap squeezed their love lips out into pouting
mouths, with rings through the peeking tongue of their clitoral nodules.
Brenda paused and studied her pets, then ordered more equipment.
“Better. have my little doggies muzzled. for the first time out.
Wouldn't do to have them bite someone,” she mused, drawing enjoyment
from the mortified looks on both girl's faces.
Patent leather shaped helmets completed the restraint side of things
and, after some forceful lacing, they became moulded like a second skin
to the girls’ features. The internal plug gags were pressed deep into
their mouths before the tightening leather

finally sealed their lips within a crushing embrace. Because of the
depersonalising effect of this final equipment, each helmet had a small
plate on top which displayed the number of the
woman inside; a further reminder that they were just items of stock.
The use of the strange handle on the outside of the plug gag now became
apparent as Brenda turned the thing and expanded the internal plugs
tightly into their mouths. Both girls shook their heads in silent
frustration as the massively expanded gags bulged their cheeks and
filled ever corner of their oral cavities.
But the Major wasn't quite finished. Pink ribbon with tiny cow bells
soon adorned nose, nipple and clitoral rings and produced delicate,
tinkling noises whenever the women moved.
266 and 187 were walked around testing their outfits, allowing Major
Cunningham to assess her creations.
It felt good to wear shoes again; even the skyscraper stilettos chosen
for their costume. And as an added bonus, the Major had been
compassionate. She had allowed Tammy to hide her identity by fitting her
with the full face helmet which only showed her eyes and made sure that
neither McKinley or the Inspector, if encountered, could accidentally
recognise their expected future prize. It also had the effect of tightly
sealing 266's lips and removing any thoughts or attempts to gain release
by telling her story to a passer-by.
Tammy and Vera halted in front of a mirror and were stunned at the
thought that this was how the public would see them. Their bodies had
been sculpted into cartoon caricatures and blatantly presented in such a
way as to leave no doubt as to their status as owned sex pets; toys of
the woman who held their rod leashes. They were given no further time
for reflection on their plight as Brenda gripped the control rods and,
after connecting them to a special duel control handle, walked them
helplessly out for their public debut like a pair of muzzled hounds.
It was a sobering thought that no matter how much they pleaded and tried
to resist, the result would be the same. Within a very
short time they would be walking down crowded streets full of people,
and indeed free women who would be the most critical of their loss of
status. Men would leer and lust after their helpless bodies and discuss
intimate details of their sculptured anatomies. Even the inmates of
SAC-94 stopped to stare and snigger as they passed, comments of does
puppy want a bone did little to reassure the prancing, leashed pets that
they could expect any less a humiliating reception once they were in
public.
Within the hour that nightmare scenario had become fact as both pets
found themselves stepping out of the shuttle hover and into the stare of
hundreds of eyes. It was a crushing experience, but a sharp command from
Major Cunningham had them obediently walking forward into the heart of
the town.
People stopped to stare and point, mothers pointed them out to young
sons with promises that they could have one when they grew up. A teacher
with a class of small children used them as an example of what happened
to naughty little girls. Men took photo's to cherish at later dates. It
was horrible.
On more than one occasion, Tammy caught sight of the reflection of the
Major behind them in a shop window, and noted the look of pride as she
showed off her tethered possessions. The woman was really enjoying
displaying her pedigree pets, for that is what 266 and 187 were. They
had been free women, not NPGs.
But 187 was to suffer even more humiliation as the very same NPGs who
had abducted her and mounted her on that Ringer frame recognised her
leashed form.
Having made sure that Vera knew she was recognised, and that she in turn
had recognised them, they stayed out of the Major's sight across the
street and kept pace with the tethered, ex area inspector of LPGs. a ;
Major Cunningham was completely unaware of 187's humiliation at being
seen like this by the same women who had engineered her downfall; the
same women over whom she had at one time virtually held the power of
life or living death. At a stroke of her pen, she could have consigned
anyone of them to
a SAC unit. But now, Vera could only continue to strut along at the end
of her leash and provide the watching, gleeful NPGs with some excellent
spectator sport. Any reaction to her humiliation would be interpreted as
disobedience by the Major and earn her a painful reminder of the
Walker's power. This would only serve to increase the watching NPGs’
enjoyment as she was publicly punished. They would really enjoy watching
her rigid and quivering as the anal prod taught her obedience.
Finally they tired of the game and departed with jeering catcalls.
Shortly afterwards, mistress and pets arrived at the Major's destination
and the pets were parked.
Tammy and 187 stood dutifully outside a Hyperstore as the Major went
shopping, secured to a pet park outside with several other Walker'd
women, who although beautiful, were plainly displayed when compared with
the Major's pets. It was obvious that they were the playthings of men.
With the odd exception, these males had no imagination! So long as these
poor, fettered women were available for screwing at any time they only
needed to wear a serviceable rig that would ensure control.
Tammy's mind wandered to articles she had seen in history books, at the
time when humans had dogs for pets. She likened herself and her partner
to exotically prepared Poodles, and the other poor unfortunates to sheep
dogs, Alsatians and other working dogs. In fact, the very same rings
being used to park them may have at one time in the past tethered such
animals. Tammy wondered if that other great canine institution of the
past had survived. Crufts was the name that came to mind. With the
thought came images of women performing the same
degrading rituals of petting and preening before being displayed to be
judged.
Would they also be trotted round a ring and then handled all over by
some ancient old judge? And if so, would she one day be displayed with a
supreme champion rosette affixed to her body?
Her thoughts returned to the present, and she wished the Major had taken
them into the store sooner than leave them tethered
out here. But this just wasn’t possible. Pets were no longer allowed
inside stores after some badly trained types had disgraced themselves by
wetting on the floor. In fact, it wasn't really the
pets’ fault, but usually their owners who had kept them from toilet
facilities too long.
They waited patiently, unable to do little more than look into each
others eyes. The Major had left them with their nipple rings joined as a
final humiliating gesture. Luckily she'd left the other snap link at her
office or they would have also been joined by their clitorises. At least
this fastening allowed some space between them with only their nipples
in contact. It avoided the
spectacle of two virtually naked women pressed tight against each other.
Suddenly, Tammy she saw something that made her want to crawl under a
stone. James, her sometime husband, and a young lady were walking
straight towards them. Desperately, she looked for somewhere to hide and
tugged at her tether as she tried to escape. But to no avail. She was
secured and helpless in the path of their approach. She couldn’t even
turn without dragging Vera painfully around by her nipples, and even if
she did, she couldn't hide her face because the mirror glass of the shop
front relayed an image to anyone passing.
The couple walked past with barely a glance, and Tammy was about to
heave a sigh of relief that James hadn't seen her like this. But,
suddenly, he halted and came back, peering intently at her eye slots,
ignoring 187 who watched silently.
“Tammy? Is that you, Tammy?” He searched the eyes for signs of
recognition, but Tammy stayed frozen with fear lest he should discover
the depths to which she had been reduced. Better he always remembered
her as Tammy the free woman, not the denuded, trussed, helmeted pet she
had become.
She shook her head to indicate that she didn’t know him, but James
persisted until his lady friend became annoyed.
“Come on James, don't be silly. Tammy would never allow herself to
become a pet-slut like that. I mean look at her; ringed, bound,
fastened toa pet park. It can't be Tammy, she was like me; she'd never
be broken and turned into a pet, especially a woman's pet. Look, she's
got little pink bows and bells on her tits. Only a woman would decorate
her pet like that. She's just a gay whore!”
The woman vanished from Tammy's sight, and fearfully she could feel her
control rod, separated from 187’s in their present configuration, being
handled by the woman. A split second later she was arched into a
quivering bow as the powerful pulse of the Walker seared though her
body. It lasted only a few seconds, but then as she relaxed she was
instantly jerked into rigid profile again as the woman repeated her
torment.
Now Tammy felt a hand groping for her crotch, and knowing that to show
disapproval would only bring more torment, she stood still as the woman
plundered her pussy.
“See James, what did I tell you. The slut will let anyone play with
her,” she said, emphasising the point by moving her hands up to Tammy's
breasts and mauling them painfully. Her lips moved
close to the captive woman’s ear and Tammy seethed with anger as she
whispered softly.
“Bye Tammy, he's mine now and there's nothing you can do
about it. Make any attempts to let him know and I'll hold that button
down for ten minutes!”
The bitch! She knew all the time and she was going to leave her as a
tethered, silenced pet. With a tear in her eye, Tammy watched as the
woman left her and took hold of James’ arm, tugging him irritably as if
to lead him away.
James gave up and after a long, lingering look, allowed the woman to
pull him away. Tammy heaved a sigh of relief and at
the same time felt a huge loathing for the woman her husband had
selected to replace her.
The Major's voice sounded close by and Tammy started slightly. She had
obviously seen and overheard the entire episode.
“That your ex-husband, 266?” Tammy nodded tearfully. “Not bad! Shame you
had to lose him to a mouthy bitch like that.” Tammy nodded.
“She hurt you, didn’t she, calling you names like that?” Again Tammy
nodded as a thoughtful look stole across Brenda’s face.
“How do you fancy the bitch as one of your pets?” Tammy was astounded.
The Major was reacting as if someone had kicked her
dog. But the thought conjured up by the offer was certainly attractive.
She didn't have to indicate to the Major that she approved. That
look of revenge directed at the departing woman's back was sufficient.
“I'll get together with the Captain. We can find your old address from
city records and from your husband we'll back-track until she’s found.
She'll be Ringer'd within a week, then I'll let you decide what you want
her trained as.
Tammy didn’t need to wait. The letters SS appeared in her mind as if
emblazoned on the woman's back. It would be so nice to see that high and
mighty bitch grovelling with her pussy stuck up in the air. And if she
had thought Tammy's status was the lowest of the low, how would she feel
as the plaything of a pet-slave? She strained at her back brace and
tried to convey a message of a more stringent bondage arrangement to the
Major. After a moment or two the Major understood.
“You want her Ringer’d to maximum setting? Tammy shook her head and then
indicated upward
“Punishment setting?”
The head nodded emphatically and drew a knowing smile from Major
Cunningham.
“Consider it done, my pet, you've earned it over the past few months.
I'll have her classified subversive and she can by-pass
the courts and come directly to SAC-94 under the latest emergency act.”
The Major slid a furtive hand to Tammy's crotch and playfully stroked
her smooth, shaven pubis as an appreciative gesture for
the many hours of pleasure this borrowed pet had given her.
Tammy blushed and then wriggled provocatively for the benefit of her
captor.
“I'll make sure you're there when she arrives, and I'll even let you have her for an
hour or two while she's still Ringer'd, the Major murmured in her ear.
Tammy's mind went back to the ordeal she'd suffered with the Inspector,
and as she watched the woman's wriggling rump vanish from sight she felt
a surge of pleasure at the thought that very soon she would be giving
that very same backside the spanking of a lifetime.
Pet-slave or not, Tammy suddenly realised that if she pleased her
owners, she could share in their privileged position and the power that
went with it, even if it did mean living as a bound, gagged object of
enjoyment for another woman and being walked and exhibited like an
obedient, pet puppy.
As the pair were released from their nipple connections and prodded into
motion, the Major couldn't help but notice that something had changed in
the leashed, bound 266. Her stride and bearing were proud; helmeted head
held high, breasts projected arrogantly forward and naked buttocks
gyrating provocatively. The Captain’s new pet was positively strutting.
Tammy felt she was an aristocrat in the pet world and everyone was going
to know it. Eventually, she would be the owner of Blondie and, even
sooner, James’ bimbo, and she could do with them as she wished. Perhaps
lend them to her friend 187 on
occasion, or have them frozen into some degrading double act if they
disobeyed!
It would be so enjoyable to truss package and plug that snooty bimbo
then send her to her friend to be used as a gay whore!
Which reminded her, she must remember to ask Major Cunningham to add BD
to the bimbo's training schedule. In the meantime, she would use her
intimate and new found knowledge to devise the most diabolically
humiliating walking out rig for the woman who had dared to take her
husband.
Hell hath no fury, as they say!
