Chapter 14: Future Project Opportunities

Tanya Charles had made a point of asking to see Maggie Forbush at the earliest opportunity. Their conversation at first hadn't been too rewarding. "No," Maggie had said. "I don't believe there are any plans to extend the trial of the inhibitors."

"Oh," said Tanya, determined not to be deflected and trusting in the information she had. "Well, if things change I just wanted you to know we're in a position to undertake mass-production now with the consequent savings in costs and improved availability. And we've taken on board the technical feedback from your people. I could arrange another demonstrator, if you like."

Maggie went silent for a moment, obviously considering the offer. "It's kind of you Tanya," she responded, "but I really can't do anything at the present. I'll call you if anything changes."

As it was Maggie's call came less than an hour later.

"Tanya," she said, "about our last discussion. I might need your help after all."

Tanya allowed herself a smug smirk at the other end of the phone.

"The Minister is just back from Cabinet. There's a commitment to go ahead with the detention service project before the end of the year. And apparently the party is making a manifesto pledge to provide funding for its use domestically, grants for those that need them and so forth. It seems the PM's got very keen on all this. Thinks it's a real vote catcher, apparently. Anyway, you'd better let me have a note on the latest costs and availability."

"Of course, Maggie, I'm happy to help." Tanya put down the phone with a considerable feeling of satisfaction. It sounded as though she would be able to get this contract without the need for an open tender.

"Hello boys," Celia welcomed two of the office interns to the small meeting room. "I'm so pleased Deborah felt able to make you available for work in my section."

The two young men looked at one another nervously. They were already finding their first jobs more of a challenge than they had ever imagined. It was their first venture into the workplace. They'd had a sheltered upbringing. The single-sex private school that they'd attended had meant they'd avoided the worst of the teasing and torments that their contemporaries experience at State schools. Now they were having to adapt quickly to the real world.

"We're pleased to be here, Mistress," the taller, pale skinned, acne pocked one of the two said.

"You don't call me, Mistress; least ways not while we're at work." Celia's predatory grin was enough to drain what little colour there was from the lads face. "It's Ma'am in the office. What's your name?"

"Gordon, Ma'am," the young man stammered.

"And you?" Celia to the other.

"Desmond, Ma'am," his colleague replied.

Celia looked at the two young men. Recalling the ideas that the exhibition at the Tate Gallery had given her, she was sure this project was going to be fun.

"We've got a treat for you, Leonard," the guard smirked as she opened the door of his cell and unlocked the chain that linked his collar to the wall. "First though you need a little silencer." She waved the red rubber ball and its strap that was often applied whenever he left his cell.

James stood passively as she fitted the gag. He'd tried resisting just once. He had soon discovered that the guards were well trained in self-defence. He'd ended up on the floor with a knee in his back, bruised and sore and with the gag in place just the same.

This one of the guards was quite a bit shorter than he was. As she stood behind him she had to reach up to fasten the straps of the gag. As she pulled he fell back against her, feeling the cool fabric of her shirt and the softness of her breasts against his naked back. "Bloody well stand still, Leonard," she snapped, tugging his wrists behind him and cuffing them together.

The fleeting touch against the guard was enough to fuel James's sexual responses. He felt his cock stiffening, in spite of the inadvisability of the reaction.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," the guard responded, seeing his erection pushing his cock against his loose coverall trousers as she turned him around to clip her own leash to his collar. "Come along with me."

She led him along the corridor to the door from the hut and out into the yard. It was early in the evening. Most of the others were locked down, ready for the night. The yard was quiet. There was another hut close to the wire that James hadn't been in before. The guard led him inside. "Over there," she said gesturing to a low leather padded frame.

James recognised the punishment horse at once but couldn't for the life of him think what he had done to earn a beating. His quizzical "Hurnghh?" grunted through his gag brought only irritation from the guard.

"Don't worry about it, just do as you're told. Bend over the fucking horse!" She pulled him across to it and jerked his leash to drag his head down over the back of the horse. Reaching under his chin she clipped the ring on his collar to a link on the horse, holding him in place.

James heard a noise from the far side of the hut. The guard stood up and turned around, her backside only inches from his face, the pale khaki of her uniform fabric stretched so tightly as to clearly reveal to James the line of the panties she wore beneath.

"Oh, you're here," he heard the guard say.

"Sure," another woman's voice responded. As she walked up to where the guard was standing James could see her legs. A short black kilt, white socks and trainers told him that this was one of the New Opportunity girls. "Here's your money," she said. "We'll be an hour or so."

"Have fun!" the guard said, giving James a playful pat on his backside. "And don't let him off the horse. He's docile enough but I don't want to come back here and find you've lost him."

James responded with a grunt of alarm. The New Opportunity girl responded by crouching down so that her face was level with his. James stared straight into her blue eyes, a disarmingly innocent looking face, freckles on her nose, her blonde hair drawn into bunches. "Don't worry," she said, stroking the back of his neck in a way that James found anything but reassuring, "you're not going to be beaten."

There was the sound of the hut's doors opening again and giggling girls. "Bring her over here," the girl standing by James called. "And don't make so much row, we're not supposed to be here."

"Sorry, Jen!" a voice form behind James replied. "We have the initiate."

James tried to turn his head to see as best as he could what was going on. Two other girls in the same black kilt and white sweater as Jen had a third girl standing between them. She too wore the New Opportunity uniform but had been blindfolded and was standing with her hands behind her back.

"Very good," said Jen. "Bring her forward."

There was a shuffling sound behind James.

"Caroline Wallace, are you prepared to be initiated?"

An uncertain voice responded. James assumed it was the blindfolded girl. "Yes."

"Very well. On this your nineteenth birthday you have gained the right to become one of us. But to join us you have to demonstrate your commitment to the aims of New Opportunity."

The nervous voice responded, "I understand."

"First position!" Jen exclaimed.

James felt someone grip him by the hair on the back of his head, lifting him as the blindfolded girl was brought in front of him. He could see that her hands had been tied loosely behind her back with a length of cloth or a scarf. Jen lifted the girl's skirt and pushed her backward so that her naked backside pressed against James's face. The skirt was dropped back down, draping itself over James's head as the girl wiggled her arse, pressing his face deeper into the cleft between her buttocks. Barely able to breathe, James tried to struggle against the chain that held him to the horse and the grip on the back of his head that pressed him forward against the girl's backside. The effect was only to encourage the girl who pressed back against him with more enthusiasm. "Ten, nine, eight..." One of the others began a countdown until on the count of zero, the girl stepped away to a cheer, letting James breathe once again.

"Second position!" Jen went on.

Now the girl was turned around so that her crotch was placed level with James's face. The hand gripping the back of his hair guided his face forward until his nose was buried in her vulva, depriving him of air once more as he tried to gasp for breath around the ball of the gag that stuffed his mouth. The girl wriggled in pleasure as James struggle in response to his shortness of breath. "This is fun," she cried. "Ooooh, that's so nice. Another tug on his hair repositioned him. As the girl pressed back against his face, her pubic hair rubbed against him and the scent of her moistening cunt filled his nostrils. The girl stayed pressed against him for quite a while but another countdown announced the end of that part of the initiation. "Take his gag off," Jen ordered and the strap around James's head was unbuckled and the bal; pulled from his mouth.

James got as far as uttering the words, "Please, don't..." before the girl was pushed back against him. Behind he felt his trousers being pulled down around his knees. A whack with a crop or a cane and a barked, "Use your tongue, dork!" told him what was expected next.

James worked hard. The occasional encouraging blow to his buttocks drove his efforts and the blindfolded girl pushed back at him with more enthusiasm her labia, becoming wetter by the minute. She stared to whimper, a cry at the back of her throat that seemed to get higher by the moment. The other girls, laughing, went through the count down and, at zero pulled her away. "Ooo, that's cruel," the initiate said.

"Well, you wouldn't want to miss the best bit, would you?" The voice from behind James was accompanied by more raucous laughter, as Jen took hold of dildo and slid it between the girl's lips and up into her cunt. Pulling it out again she presented it to James.

"Kiss and suck," she said, pushing it into James's mouth.

As James sucked on the hard rubber phallus, the two girls that had brought in the initiate came forward and started to strap a leather harness about the girl's hips. The struggle she gave in response seemed to show that she wasn't prepared for this part of the ceremony. With the harness in place the girl was brought forward until her belly was once more close to James's face. James caught a glimpse of a hand as the dildo in his mouth was clipped to the girl's harness and then came the choking sensation as the girl pushed it was pushed against him, ramming the dildo against the back of his throat.

"The final position," intoned Jen.

"Arse, arse, arse," the others chanted as the initiate was pulled away and James's mouth was freed. It was evident what was about to happen.

James tried to object. "No, please he begged, I never ... Ooolp" The initiate's dildo pressed home against his anus, slipping the rubber prick deep inside him. As he struggled the girl responded from the pressure of the dildo's harness against her crotch.

"He's an arse virgin too!" exclaimed one of the girls.

"Just as well the guard didn't know, she'd have stung us for more," Jen answered.

The initiate was squealing with delight at the sensation of the dildo pressing against her and James's anguished response to penetration. The other two were chanting, "Arse, arse, arse" over and over again urging her on. James felt the dildo pushing inside him, an extraordinary filling sensation at once humiliating, arousing and disturbing. He felt the girl quiver as she approached her orgasm; his own cock stiff in spite of the unwanted nature of her sexual attentions.

"Enough!" announced Jen, suddenly.

As James felt the dildo slide clear of his arse, leaving him empty, he gave a whimpering grunt.

Jen announced, "By executing the three positions, you have demonstrated your commitment to the values of New Opportunity. Free the initiate!"

The girls giggled as the new girl was released from her blindfold and her bonds. "Oh no!" she exclaimed. "It really is one of the detainees! I thought it was one of the house boys."

"Well," said Jen, as a fully fledged member of the inner circle of New Opportunity you get your pendant." She held out a glass and silver pendant to the girl. James had seen some of the New Opportunity girls wearing them; he'd wondered what they were. "Fill it!"

"Fill it?" James thought.

A moment later the girl crouched beside him and gripped his cock tightly. "Come on, jerk," she goaded, "after all that fun you can fill my pendant."

She started pulling and squeezing at his cock, anxious to milk him for the sperm that would fill her initiation pendant. Obviously inexperienced at masturbating males, her grip was overly tight, pulling like she was jerking on the teats of a cow, painfully crushing him until he was desperate to come but barley able to get close because of the experiences he had had in the Fetter Lane house. The longer it took, the more urgent the girl's tugs and twists became but finally James managed to come, spurting a few drops that the girl greedily wiped into the glass phial of her pendant to the chorused cheers of the others.

"We thought you'd never manage it!" Jen laughed, "But you're one of us now. You've earned your pendant."

Without a word to James, the four girls left, leaving him shackled to the bench, his bruised cock, dripping cum to the floor between his legs. It was some time before Whittaker came to reclaim him. She sighed with disapproval as she unfastened him from the frame. She shook her head. "Look at the state of you," she said. "Still you've earned me a few quid, so why should I worry?"

James followed her on his leash back to his cell. He felt safer there, once she locked the door.

Norm crouched down behind the wall. He must be ten miles from town by now. He still wasn't sure how he had managed to get away, how he'd gathered the strength to break out of the improvised cage that Angie had made him build for himself. Cow! Locking the belt on him had been the last straw. He had known that if he hadn't broken away then he would never had got away.

He'd found a little money in the flat. It had paid for a meal and an overcoat but now it was gone. He didn't even have his ident card, though it would have been worse than useless anyway.

He had walked all night and hidden during the day. With no papers he hadn't dare risk an encounter with police. At least here, out of town, there weren't the regular patrols. He'd have a better chance; maybe he'd find a way of contacting a dissident group or just some others like him, men that couldn't take it anymore. It shouldn't be difficult. If he believed the way the news warned about the constant risk of anti-social activity, the countryside must be swarming with them.

His back was aching, the muscles sore from his escape. He would never have believed that he had the strength to break out of the cage. The wound in his crotch had stopped bleeding at least. It was ironic really; the cloth that he'd wound around himself as a bandage numbed any sense of feeling as effectively as the chastity belt had. He should have been more careful but he'd been determined to cut himself out of the belt.

He pulled the coat around him and tore a hunk of bread from the loaf that he'd stolen just before dawn. It was almost dark again. Soon it would be time to get moving once more. He looked up. The wall he was hiding behind was in corner of a farmyard. It looked deserted. There was a derelict corrugated iron barn behind him. Rotting hay bales were piled in one corner.