Chapter 23

For several hours the coach ran along what had once been a smoothly made main road but was now riddled with potholes, the African countryside passing in front of Elizabeth's interested eyes, before it slowed and turned off down a even rougher unsurfaced dirt track. Held tightly to their wooden seats, the women in the rear section of the vehicle found themselves being bounced around while the men-folk, ensconced in the far more luxurious forward section, enjoyed a considerably smoother ride. Eventually after a further hour or so of travel, the coach slowed to a halt at the outside of a checkpoint. Looking away to both sides, Elizabeth could see a high chain fence topped with barbed wire that stretched away to the horizon. As the gate was finally opened and the bus driven in, Elizabeth spotted a handful of armed guards all of who were watching intently, their sub-machine guns cradled in their arms. "Well that you should look, women," the guard at the door called out to them, "These men make sure that you are not bothered by unwelcome and uninvited visitors during your 'holiday'." Pausing to to give vent to a small laugh, he then went on, "And they also make sure that you don't, accidentally, go wandering off!"

Passing through a second gate, arranged as a pair with the first so that one set was always closed, the coach again picked up speed - though speed was a relative word here with about twenty miles per hour all that could be managed over the rough surface. Protected from poachers by the high fence and guards, there were an increased number of sightings of herds of wild animals, mostly small buck but sometimes the large, more tourist oriented beasts such as elephant and giraffe. As the coach rounded one particular corner, the women found themselves staring at the body of an unfortunate hippopotamus whose carcass was slowly being devoured by a pride of five lions while vultures and wild dogs keep a watching brief on the proceedings as they waited their turn. Across from Elizabeth, one of the women voiced the opinion that this was a dangerous place. "Yes," agreed their muscular guard at the rear, "it is not wise for you to wander too far from the camp for it is not just the human guards you must fear..."

All this talk of guards and such was beginning to get to Elizabeth and she wondered just what sort of place her husband had brought her to for her honeymoon. She didn't have much longer to wait for, after a further half hour or so the coach crested a rise and, laid out in a valley below, was what appeared to be a modern holiday complex. Even at this distance, Elizabeth could make out the smart bungalows which she assumed were where they would stay and, dotted around, were the larger building which housed the restaurants, bars and indoor sports facilities. Tennis courts abounded and the blue of several swimming pools beckoned to her. Away on the far side of the complex, bright green grass contrasted with the brown that surrounded it and hinted at a well kept golf course just waiting to be thrashed around. Maybe this wasn't going to be quite to bad after all, Elizabeth thought... before she went on to tell herself not to be so bloody stupid - if Andrew's father had fixed all this up for her, it was bound to be nasty...

Finally the coach halted and the door hissed open. Rising from his seat, the safari suited guard first removed the gags from Elizabeth and her neighbour before returning to his post and releasing the mechanism that held the seat belts locked together. With a collective gasp of thankfulness, the women shook the belts off and stood before shuffling towards the exit.

Out in the hot African day, Elizabeth shaded her eyes from the sun as she watched the men gaily clambering down from the front section. It was clear that they had all enjoying themselves and that they had been well plied with alcohol. From the way they chatted to each other, they'd also managed to get aquatinted with each other which was far more than their other halves had achieved. Striding purposely towards her and the other females came Richard, the tour guide, he of the booming voice and overbearing humour. "Right, you bitches, get yourselves in a line, fast as you can now, chop-chop!"

Unable to believe that she was being talked to like this by a representative of the camp, Elizabeth nevertheless found herself obeying his instruction along with all the other women though there was a little muttering going on in the background. Once he was satisfied with the efforts of the girls, Richard looked over toward the men. "Okay," he called out to then, "Use the collars and attached them to your women like I showed you on the way here."

Elizabeth could see the stunned looks on the faces of about half the women there but these instructions came as no surprise to her as she was gradually beginning to see a pattern about this place; it clearly didn't bother the woman who'd sat next to her on the coach either as she stood stoically waiting for her man to reach her. Against a backdrop of questions and appeals, each of the men placed a leather collar around the neck of their wives or girlfriends or mistresses or employees or whatever... and then stood back. Glancing around her, Elizabeth swiftly noticed that the collars were in three different colours and each sported a small metal box attached to the outside at the back.

Walking along the line of women, hands clasped behind his back as if he were a Sargent-Major in the army, Richard began to address his troops. "You'll immediately notice that some of your collars are red, some are yellow and some are green. This colour selection isn't arbitrary and it may change during the course of your stay here. The collar that you have started with was selected by your Master for you and it is they, and only they, who can decide to change the colour that you display. As you move around the camp, you will come upon some people with blue collars, they are employees of the establishment and they are to be thus given due consideration and respect. But before we go any further, we need to get you all into the spirit of this camp so, please, all of you bitches disrobe!"

"What?" gasped a tubby redhead near the far end of the row from Elizabeth. "Arthur, have you brought me to a nudist colony?"

"There's one with every group," sighed Richard before breaking into a beaming smile, "which is very lucky for me as I can now demonstrate what those little boxes stuck to your collars do. Mr. Braithwaite, if you please? Try a number two." the guide finished nodding towards one of the men stood with the others.

Mr Braithwaite, husband to the redhead, raised his hand that appeared to Elizabeth to contain a small box about the size of a cigarette packet and, with his other hand he adjusted a control before stabbing down with his finger. Down the line, the redhead squealed, more in shock than in real pain. "Thank you for the demonstration. Now, bitches, but in case you missed the significance of that, each of your men-folk has a control box attuned to your collar and each collar can deliver an electrical shock to your neck. The intensity of the jolt runs from one to twenty - that was a number two. Be warned that a shock of twenty is guaranteed to knock you senseless and the numbers just below it can be extremely painful. Now, I repeat, remove your clothing."

Needing no further persuasion, the females all began to remove their garments, none faster than the redheaded Mrs Braithwaite. Before long, each woman was naked with a small pile of clothing neatly stacked before them. Elizabeth noted that there was a range of reactions now that went between her friend from the bus who was stood there as if this were a perfectly natural thing to the girl immediately to Elizabeth's right who was blushing furiously while trying to cover her breasts and groin with her hands. As for Elizabeth herself, thanks to her training from Master Sam, she didn't feel uncomfortable but nor was she flaunting herself - but what was giving her concern was that, with the eyes of the men boring into her, she was feeling just a tad humiliated and this, in turn, had begun to make her damp and she certainly didn't want anyone to notice that!

"Now that's over, let me explain the relevance of the colour of your collars," Richard's voice once more broke into Elizabeth's thoughts. "Red indicates that you are reserved for use only by your master..."

"Beg pardon, Richard," broke in the very embarrassed woman stood next to Elizabeth, "but what do you mean, 'for use by'?"