Chapter 5

Hack Kaiser was a worried man as the Beast Master led him through two sets of high, electrified, gates topped with razor-wire. The sign above the first set of ultra-secure gates read, "Black Bear Products' Bear Park — Conservation Program". The facility looked like an old army barracks with row upon row of huts. Hack realized that most of the "huts" he could see were, in fact, lines of roofed cages. In each cage he could see there was a bear. A few people, naked or in rags, were at work outside the cages and two or three, in white coats, seemed to be treating sick animals. The smell was rank and the noise disturbing. Hack thought he was going to throw up. He'd never liked animals, not even small cuddly ones. The Bear Park's inhabitants looked mean and vicious to him.

The Beast Master and Hack were met by a thin young woman, pony-tailed, jack-booted and dressed in the same outfit as her boss. The inscription on her tee shirt read, "Beast Mistress - 5". She too carried a plaited whip.

"Here's a replacement for that idle son-of-a-bitch Elmer. Name's 'Hack'. Don't ask me why.

Judge gave him seven days. I've told him the rules and given him two more."

"Why's he wearing a dress?" asked Beast Mistress Five.

"Likes to feel the breeze around his balls," said the Beast Master. "You got him, Zelda?"

"Yep," drawled Zelda. "I got him."

The Beast Master grinned at her and strode away towards the hut that housed the office of Black Bear Products Limited.

"That true, Hack?" she said and lifted the hem of his skirt with her whip to verify he was without underwear.

Hack stood a head and shoulders above the slender, small-breasted, woman but made no move to prevent this further indignity.

"No, mistress," Hack spluttered. "The policewoman on duty when I was arrested thought it funny."

"That'd be Asa Lincoln, right?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Okay. Our bears are the young ones in row five. Your main job is to keep them healthy by keeping the cages clean. I see bear-shit, you get an extra day. I'll show you how to handle bruin without losing an arm, like that stupid sod Elmer. You can doss down in the hay loft above the fodder store for now. Better than the U-em's dormitory. You eat in the cookhouse at eight, twelve and six. That clear?"

"Yes, mistress."

"You married, Hack?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Where's your good lady?"

"Like me, she was sentenced to community service with my daughter, mistress."

"Where? Not here. The barracks? The saloon? The Country Club? What did Jensen say?"

"The Country Club." Hack paused. "What do you mean the barracks and the saloon?"

Zelda's whip cracked under Hack's shriveled scrotum. He yelped and jumped.

"'Mistress'—you forgot to say 'mistress'—didn't you, Hack?"

"Yes, mistress," said Hack. Tears of pain and humiliation ran down his unshaven cheeks.

"You got another day Hack. Don't you worry about your women. The Country Club looks after its whores really well. Feeds them. Keeps them clean. If they give the VIPs what those horny high-rollers want your girls are on easy street. Happy?"

"Yes, mistress," Hack lied.

"Good. You knock off when I say so. If I say 'jump' you say 'how high?', if I say 'fuck' you'd better have a stiffy. Understand?"

Miserably Hack nodded. He followed Beast Mistress Zelda as she led him towards the loft above the fodder store and the start of his community service.

"This is your room," said the ash-blonde woman in the pink kimono. "There is an en suite bathroom behind that door and a pleasant view of the pine forest through the bars on your sealed window. Even if you look carefully you can't see the electrified security fence nor the anti-personnel mine-field. Do not leave this building. Please, forget any ideas of escape."

"Who are you?" demanded Fiona. She was still shaken and trembling from the shock treatment handed out by the manageress of the Black Bear Country Club.

"Take it easy," cautioned Juliette supporting her mother as Fiona tottered to the huge four poster bed in the center of the room."I think she's on our side."

"That's right. I'm a fellow convict serving a term of community service. I have been told to help you settle in to the Black Bear Country Club. Call me Tracy. So, welcome to the members' only 'comfort wing'."

"What the hell is a'comfort wing'?" snapped Fiona.

"Essentially," said Tracy, "it's a knocking-shop for the wealthy members of the club."

"A brothel?"

"Exactly."

"So we are to be sex slaves?"

"That's about it."

"This is crazy," said Fiona. "The whole thing is crazy! We were raped by the policemen who we flagged down for assistance. We were abused by the policewoman who was on duty in the sherif's office. We have been subjected to a ridiculous travesty of a 'trial'—I'm no lawyer but Judge Jensen's court and its proceedings was a mockery—sentenced to an elastic period of slave-labor in what turns out to be a glorified bawdy-house run by a sadistic mad woman! It's crazy!"

"You've got it right, Mrs Kaiser. It's a mad-house. But you should understand the lunatics are in charge of the asylum and there's nothing you can do about it. Black Bear Mountain Inc and its subsidiaries owns and controls the whole precinct right up to the Canadian border. It's a state within the state. The company runs the police, the court, the administration of justice and every other damn thing that goes on here. No one gets out." Tracy shrugged. "Sounds like you had a rough time. Want to tell me about it?"

Fiona and Juliette unburdened themselves to the kimono clad blonde. Tracy was a good, sympathetic, listener and by the time the newcomers to the comfort wing of the country club had finished their tale of woe the three were on first name terms. Fiona pressed Tracy to tell her story but the young woman said it would keep. They had plenty of time for story telling, Tracy said. She had been sentenced to seven days community service three months earlier and still had a week to serve. The "community service" sentence system was just a sick joke of the Black Bear Mountain Inc hierarchy, she said.

"In fact there's them and us—masters and slaves. They call us 'U-ems'—some damned joke of Thiler's, I heard."

Tracy was particularly interested to hear that Hack Kaiser had bought the cabin by the Eldorado mine from Adolf Thiler.

"Thiler is one of the Black Bear Mountain Inc directors. If he's a friend of yours you may be in luck. Perhaps they made a mistake giving you the treatment," said Tracy."Have you met him?"

"Once," said Fiona. "He and his wife came to dinner at the conclusion of some financial matter my husband had assisted them with. I wouldn't call him a friend. In fact he got a bit drunk and, when Hack was called away to answer an urgent telephone call, Thiler made a strong pass at me. He had one hand inside my bra and another between my legs when he heard Hack coming back. I was glad when the pair of them left."

"Me too," said Juliette. "His wife, Irma, was all over me like a rash. Touching here and patting there. I don't know why Dad invited them. Still, that's business, I guess."

Tracy looked thoughtful. "Maybe," she said. "Anyway, mad Magda has decreed that you two are to remain together as a mother-daughter team until further notice. I guess you know what that means?"

Fiona put her arm around Juliette's shoulders. "Don't worry. We survived Al and Max yesterday," she said. "We can manage, kiddo." At the same time she felt a guilty thrill of anticipation—a response she tried hard to repress.

Juliette smiled nervously and nodded.

"You are to bathe and rest," Tracy said. "There are robes for you in the wardrobe. The dining room is on the ground floor. I'll take you to lunch at noon."

"What happens after that?" Juliette asked.

"The dresser will fix you up with an outfit for tonight," said Tracy.

"Tonight?" queried Fiona.

"You two are fresh meat. There's a queue for your services. Someone with influence has reserved you both for tonight," said Tracy. "See you before twelve." And she slipped out of the room.

Hack couldn't eat any lunch. A mix of terror and revulsion robbed him of any appetite. His fellow workers, filthy and naked, frightened him almost as much as the bears. They were short, dark-haired men, who spoke what Hack thought was a Spanish dialect. He was glad to escape to the relative privacy of the fodder store and hay loft during the hour long break.