Chapter 22: Ready For My Close Up Mr Demille

In her Prep Centre cell, Rachel was in a pretty sorry state. The guards and anyone else that felt like it had taken the opportunity presented by the "available" sign on her cell door. Someone had started chalking five bar gate counts on the wall by the door. It had reached twenty eight. As I got to her room, the Prep Centre's receptionist was emerging with a smile, clutching a strap-on dildo and a harness. "Hi, Larry," she said, "back again?" as she ticked off another stroke on the wall. Twenty nine.

I nodded.

"Your writer has been giving everyone a good time," she said, hefting the strap-on with a smirk. "Makes a change for us support staff to get a chance to play."

I edged past her into Rachel's cell. As I got in the receptionist called after me. "Oh, Larry, I've left my tit clamps on her. Be a love and drop them off at the desk when you've done, could you?"

Rachel was sprawled on the floor in one corner of the room. She was in a terrible state and it had only been two days since I turned the guards loose on her. If she had looked shocked before, she was almost catatonic now. They'd replaced her standard collar with a broad one that forced her head upwards. Her mouth was distended by the wire frame gag that held it open. Her eyes were staring unblinking from dark hollows in her face. I couldn't work out at first what she was wearing but finally realised it was the tattered remnants of the sweater and skirt that she had on when I'd last seen her, torn by the mistreatment that she had suffered over the last two days. Her tits were purple, and sore, the steel claws of the tit clamps, pinched into her nipples. Her hair was lank and greasy, sticky with I wasn't sure what; her face puffy from where her mouth had been used repeatedly. They'd strapped her wrists to the tops of her arms and her ankles to the tops of her thighs, leaving her breasts, arse and cunt available for any intrusion. From the bruises on her legs, especially on the inside of her thighs, it was clear that she'd had a lot of attention. Seeing me, she gave a whimper of recognition.

I bent down and unfastened the ratchet on her gag. Even with the wire frame removed her mouth stayed open as though her jaws were locked wide. I took the nipple clamps off. She gave a sharp, animal-like, cry in the back of her throat as the blood started to rush back and feeling returned in a wave of pain. Minutes went by before she regained the use of the muscles that allowed her to talk.

"Th, th, thank you," she stammered, hardly able to form the words, "I'm sorry. Please stop this. I'm sorry."

"I stopped it before and look what happened. Why should I stop it again?"

"I, I, I know. I can't bear this any more though. Over and over again. So many times. Please. I'll do anything."

"You say you will, Rachel, of course you say you will. And right now you believe, it too. But I'm not sure I can risk it. It took a long time to lose that headache." She looked scared at the prospect that I would not relent. "We'll give it one more try though." Her expression changed to one of relief. "You'll work on the script. There are some revisions." She nodded animatedly. "You'll be kept shackled, though." More nods of agreement. "There'll be no more rapes. IF you behave. But if you don't you'll be beaten and you'll be back in here with the 'available' sign on the door. Do you understand?"

She nodded. I still wasn't convinced. I should have let Rick do a proper orientation job on her. I aimed to mention it to him later. He could have a go as soon as we finished the first script. I left Rachel, giving instructions to the guards to clean her up and put her back to work on the script. They were disappointed of course but later I heard they were laying odds on how soon she'd be back on the available list. I gave the receptionist her tit clamps back. She grinned and asked if I fancied playing with them later. Somehow I wasn't in the mood.

I was on my way over to see Rick when I bumped into Harry as he strolled down the corridor with a cheery smile on his face. "Uhhuh," I said sensing that he'd had a good time the night before. "So you did get to date that waitress."

"Is it that obvious?" he asked.

I nodded. "I hope she's still footloose and fancy free. Tell me she isn't languishing down stairs somewhere."

"Don't worry Larry, I took your advice. Absolutely no business whatsoever and some extremely agreeable and very conventional sex, right up to the point..."

"Oh, Harry!" I said, "that wasn't the idea."

"No, listen," Harry responded. "Let me finish. Right up to the point where she said, 'I hope you don't think I'm kinky, but have you ever tied a girl up?' It took all my self control to give her a less than honest answer."

I guffawed in response. "Oh well," I said, "at least you tried."

"No, don't knock it, Larry. It was good, straightforward, uncomplicated fun and we both ended up grinning like idiots and covered in sweat. I had a great time. I think I might do it again."

"With the waitress?"

"Oh, I sort of have to really," he said. "If only because of her name."

I looked blank.

"It's Sally," he said. "You know, 'When Harry Met..."

"I've heard it," I said and left him, still grinning, to search out Rick.

I found him in his office. I was clutching the version of the script that I already had. "How are we going to set this up then?" I asked as we sat together. "You've seen the script. We need to get the girls looking presentable and showing themselves off to best advantage."

"Well, I've made a start," said Rick. I've put a small team together to help. You've not really seen much of the Prep Centre staff yet have you?"

I shook my head.

Rick continued. "The Prep Centre isn't just about basic slave conditioning. I also try to get the merchandise into a condition so it can get a better price when it gets up to Brian's Sales Centre. We need to help the girls to look good and they need to be healthy too. They get quite a lot of physical mistreatment as part of their training but there's nothing worse than a scrawny, bruised body on the auction block."

"Well, I've only seen the guards. I hadn't realised there were any other staff."

"Not staff as such," Rick smiled. "More sort of slaves. Well, not 'sort of' really."

"Silly of me," I said. "Freddie wouldn't want to pay for that sort of thing would he?"

"Uh-huh," said Rick shaking his head. "Very careful with his pennies, our Mr Clegg. Come and look in here, I've got the team together." He opened the door of his office, walked across the corridor and unlocked the door to one of the Prep centre cells. As the door opened six girls, all dressed in identical, white, button-through, short sleeved, dresses, got to their feet, turned towards us and bowed their heads.

I looked around the cell. It was quite an improvement on the conditions that the merchandise had to put up with. There were two couches, a couple of arm chairs, two low tables. In one corner of the room there was a television. A pile of DVD's stood beside it. On one of the tables was a heap of magazines.

"My training team," said Rick. "Carry on girls." They went back to what they had been doing before our arrival. One was busy working on the make up of another, a third was trying to create for a girl with long dark hair a particularly elaborate hairstyle modelled on a photograph in one of the magazines. Another sat cross legged on the floor in front of the TV watching a group of girls working out in a fitness video. "Now let's see," Rick went on, pointing out each of the girls in turn. "These two are our beauticians. This one is a qualified hair stylist; her guinea pig here is a choreographer. That one is a physical training instructor — she'd been a personal trainer in her local gym, now she's making sure our merchandise is fit for purpose. And that one," he pointed to the last of the girls sat reading on the couch, "that one was a medical student. Now she provides nursing services for the group. They have an easier life as long as they do what we ask of them. They're excused rape — though I don't mind if they want to get it on with any of the team willingly — and you can see their work cell is quite comfortable. We give them the stuff they need to keep up to date on their field of work. Plus their overnight accommodation is better too; sheets on the beds, lighter weight restraints, stuff like that. OK?"