Chapter 66

I looked down at Julia, I knew that she loved me and served me happily. "I am going to punish you slave Julia. I am going to give you a terrible punishment that will last for years, you will beg to your God to be released from this punishment each and every day." Sasha had now come to me and gently touched my arm, giving me her support, though I could see from her expression that she wondered what torment I had in mind for my chief body slave, my number two girl.

"I am raising Umber to be my chief body slave, she will have all of the rights and privileges of that position. You, Julia, are no longer one of my body slaves, and you will give your collar to Umber as a mark of her rank. Your collar will be changed too."

Sasha gasped, the other slaves looked astounded, going pale with shock. This was a major upset to their ordered and controlled lives.

I look down at Julia, she looked up at me impassively. She had told me that she would accept punishment and she was, without question, accepting her total downfall from the second most powerful slave to the lowest girl.

"Now here is the punishment," this time there were audible gasps from everyone. Wasn't the loss of her position enough for me? "You will be my conscience, you will stop me from being unreasonable with my girls, you will be the one to face me when I'm angry and unreasoning. You will be above all my slaves, including my body slaves, second only to Karolina. You will look after all of my girls and see that they are cared for properly, you will be the one to agree punishments for offences, you will be their judge and jury."

This time the collective gasp was much louder, Julia was being raised above the body slaves, that was unheard of, only the favourite was above the body slaves.

"Karen!" I called. She came running to me, surprised at my call.

"Karen, I want you to design a new collar for Julia, it must have sixteen ounces of twenty two carat gold and a marquis cut diamond just a little smaller than Karolina's, it is to be a symbol of her high rank and status." I looked round at my Ladies, my girls, my slaves. These were my family and I had needed someone to control me; temper my anger. Julia had put her life on the line for a new girl she had met only the day before; she had prevented me from making a horrendous mistake. She deserved this position and its rank and status.

"Now I need to sit and rest." I said and slowly started towards my chair.

When I was seated Aline came to me carrying a drink, she was trembling as she tried to place it on the table. Finally she managed to place my drink within reaching distance and without spilling too much.

"Aline," I said quietly, "come sit on my lap and let's talk."

Carefully she sat down, straight backed, knees parted and her hands clasped behind her neck. She was obviously in a position she'd learnt at the end of a cane.

"Please put your arms down and relax, my precious girl," I said softly.

Slowly, reluctantly, she did as I'd ordered.

"Now you can close your legs," I said.

Aline gasped in shock, "Is my Master displeased with this girl?" she asked in fright.

"All of my girls please me, even the very new ones. You just have to learn to adjust to my way of doing things and how I want my Ladies to behave." I answered.

"Who are your Ladies?" she asked looking round.

"Well, one of them is sitting on my lap, the others are around somewhere, doing things for me and for each other. I call you girls my Ladies, for you are all precious to me. I have grown to love all of them; I'm sure that I'll learn to love you too." I said.

"But I'm a slave!" she said in surprise. "Why would you want to love me?"

Lifting my hand to her cheek I turned her to look me in the eye, "Because I see good in you, because I see that you are a valuable person, a person who can become a warm and loving woman, someone who just needs a little training and support to function as a freewoman."

"But why would you free me? I think I'm a valuable slave, I was sold for over a hundred thousand US dollars." She seemed pleased with her monetary value.

"And I could have made maybe twenty million US dollars from people wanting to make you scream, from people wanting to watch you die screaming," said a voice behind us.

Aline turned and looked over my shoulder. "MADAM!" she cried and tried to jump off my lap. I held her tight.

"Stay where you are my girl, can't a man hold and grope his slaves now-a-days?" I growled. Reluctantly Aline settled back onto my lap.

Cher stepped into view, Sasha and Cecy accompanied her. Girls set chairs down for the three and then left.

A little painfully I reached forward to shake Cher's hand but she pushed me back into my chair and leant over for a kiss instead. The kiss was a lot more pleasant than shaking hands would have been.

"I cannot apologise enough for the troubles you had yesterday Baron..." Cher started.

"Please," I smiled at her, I knew I was tempting fate but I didn't want someone who I wanted as a friend calling me 'Baron', "call me Paul."

All three smiled and, together, said, "Yes Sir," then burst out laughing.

"Paul," Cher continued, "the driver was fairly new to me. He was English, ex-SAS and with a very good reputation amongst my guards for his unarmed combat skills. He was always polite and attentive. His people skills were very good which is why he was chosen for the job yesterday."

"Where was he born?" I asked.

Cher looked through a small set of documents, "London, Whitechapel. That's in the East End isn't it?"

I nodded.

"Still he was lucky to get away from there into a quiet country town," said Cher.

With a growing feeling of dread I asked, "Which town?"

"Ambleside," said Cher, not realising the impact of her words. "That's in the north of England, isn't it?" she looked up expectantly.

"It's in Cumbria," said Sasha hollowly.

The colour drained from Cher's face. "That's where the Morrison's are from too."

"And Gerald Huntley," I added.

"Do you have a laptop with an internet connection I can..." Cher was interrupted by Julia placing an opened laptop on the table beside her. Cher turned to the computer and started typing.

"Huntley met Angelica Morrison at one of my public shows. He was punishing his daughter for something, shaved all of her hair off and made her fellate him all the time. Angelica likes little girls, her own daughter was too old for her, so she persuaded Huntley to lend her Chantelle, his daughter, while they made Michael and Louise perform for them." Cher looked up at me, "If you've crossed any one of them you're in big trouble. They're worse than vicious, spiteful children if they don't get their way. That family have provided me with more than a hundred victims for my shows. Nearly all were young, some with drug problems, most had already been on the game and had STDs. They had all refused him or his family something, usually sexual favours. And none of their family mind which gender they fuck, nor what age they are. I've had a six year old boy and a seventy year old woman sent to me, both said that they'd said 'no' to one of the Huntley / Morrison family."

I explained my history with Sir Gerald Huntley and why I sold her Sydney. Half way through my story Cher laughed.

"So you're 'The Bastard'! For months now Huntley has been in a foul mood. He's always going on about 'the Bastard' and how he'll sort out 'That Bastard' once and for all." She rocked with laughter, "He doesn't seem to be doing a very good job of sorting you out, does he?"

"Well, he's caused me a number of problems and the deaths of four of my dearest ladies." I answered.

Cher was immediately contrite, leaning forward she put her hand on mine, "Oh Paul, I didn't know. Please accept my most sincere apologies."

Cher turned her attention to the laptop again and soon turned the screen toward me, "This is the only photo I know I have of Huntley and Angelica."

The photo was obviously old, Sir Gerald was a much younger man, a girl knelt to the side of Sir Gerald with her head in his lap; his erection disappearing into her mouth showed that this was Chantelle. Her arms and legs were prepubescent thin, her breasts non-existent, and her head completely hairless. We couldn't see her face properly as her hand was in the way.

Angelica was sat beside her soon to be husband, she'd turned her head and was watching her children fucking beside her while she masturbated; all in all, good old family fun for the Huntley / Morrisons.

"Well," I said, "we now have another fact at our disposal. Sir Gerald has a daughter, Chantelle, and he's kept her hidden from the public eye. I've been hunting information about children from his first marriage, and indeed information about his first wife."

Cher turned the laptop back again, working the keys for a few minutes without speaking. Finally she turned it back. This photo showed a young woman held in a glass or plastic mould. There appeared to be a smallish gap between her skin and the mould up to her neck, there the mould widened into a long tube which rose well above her head. The woman was naked and a slim tube dropped down the mould and disappeared into her nose. Cher was standing beside her, naked too except for a pair of boots which came to her upper thighs, long, long black hair tumbled down to her waist.

"It's called a drowning suit," Cher explained. "I put a person, usually a female, into it and it's locked tight, water tight." She paused as though to allow us to make the connection as to how this drowned a person.

"The tube in her nose is feeding her a saline solution, when she pisses..."

I could see the horror of this now, it wouldn't be a fast death. The victim would feel the first batch of urine fill the feet of the suit. Then the second and third would fill the legs, by then hunger would be setting in, though the nasal tube would keep the victim hydrated, actually over hydrated. More urine would raise the level progressively up her body. Then there was another problem, with children wearing nappies it's called nappy rash. It's caused by the bacteria in the urine producing ammonia. Nappy rash is a chemical burn. It can burn the whole skin off. And the woman would have been soaked in her own urine for days before it reached her neck. And then it would reach her mouth and she would drink it. But by now it would be very, very alkaline. She would burn inside as well as out. She may vomit and then have the unenviable choice of drinking her stomach's contents again or drowning in vomit. By this time she would be in agony with most of the skin on her legs and lower abdomen burned away. Whether she died from the shock of her burns, or drowning is debatable. I just knew it would be a terrible way to die.

"And then what?" asked Sasha.

I looked at her, "Sasha my darling, you really don't want to know."

"Oh," she said. Then a few moments later, "OH!" she turned pale.

I turned to Cher, from the photo I could see why she got that nickname, "who sold her to you?" I asked, knowing already the answer she was going to give me.

Cher nodded, "Huntley," she answered grimly. "He sold me his oldest daughter too. She was twelve then. You don't want to see any of the pictures." She looked sorrowful, "My line of business is not known for nice people, but it was Huntley that made me question the reasons why each person is now brought to me. His girl, I never knew her name, died in the same way that Simone was due to die, a human sized liquidiser."

Cher looked down but I could see that a tear had appeared.

"Was it quick?" I asked.

Cher just shook her head. "I sell pain and terror, human misery and suffering. Usually inflicted by my guests onto the toys I own."

She stood up and looked down at me, "I so wanted to be your friend," she said with a choke in her voice.

"And why can't you be?" I asked.

"But these pictures, what I am, what I've done..."

"What you've done is give Simone, or Aline as I call her, a chance at life. Do you know anyone else who would have done that?" I interrupted.

She smiled, "Not really," she replied.

"Anyway," I said, "I still want to see you in those boots."

The three women laughed.

"You mean fuck her while she's wearing those boots don't you?" interjected Cecy.

They laughed again, this time at me.

Aline knelt in front of me, naked as a slave should be, holding a collar on her up-turned palms. Bernie, Sheryl, JJ, Jamie and Gerald were watching, as were all of my girls.

"Please Master, collar your slave," she asked.

I took the collar from her and buckled it round her neck, tightly so she would always know she wore my collar.

She smiled when I stepped back. Umber stepped forward and in her first act as my chief body slave she led Aline away. I'm not really sure what they did but I assumed that Aline would be shown where to eat and sleep, wash and apply her makeup. She'd be told about the things I liked and those I didn't. How to please me and what displeased me. She'd talk with all of the girls and they'd tell each other their stories.

"What would you do if she hadn't asked for the collar?" asked Sheryl.

"Well, normally the girl would be free." I thought for a moment. "Aline though is slightly different. She's upset the favourite of a rich and powerful man. While I own her she's safe, but Cher wants to sort out the favourite first and maybe slap the owner down a little too. Until then, I'm afraid that Aline must stay my slave."

"But the other girls, surely they want to be freed?" Sheryl pressed.

I didn't laugh; this was a puzzle to me too. Why did they continue to ask for a collar again and again? Even the girls who I had freed now worked with or for me; some as closely as a slave anyway. "Well, I've tried freeing them but each time they've asked for their collar again."

"Can I talk to them about it?" Sheryl asked.

"Of course you can." I turned to Julia, "Julia, precious, please make sure that all of my girls know that they are free to answer any of Sheryl's questions without fear of punishment for what they say."

"Yes my Master," said Julia as she looked adoringly into my eyes. Ummm ... I think I preferred the 'I love you Master' look rather than this adoration.

Turning back to Sheryl, I continued, "If you do manage to find out why, tell me, won't you?"

She nodded; she was looking at Julia strangely. I think that Julia is going to be Sheryl's first interviewee.

I went outside and sat in my lounger, thinking about the things I'd learnt about Sir Gerald and his family. He was a very ruthless man. I think that I knew that before, nobody gets to be a chief constable in any police service without having a whole pile of steel in his backbone. But Huntley was something else, he'd sold his wife and eldest daughter to their deaths in most gruesome ways. I knew he'd watched his wife die, I assumed that he'd witnessed his daughter's death too. He punished his youngest daughter publicly, humiliating her by shaving her head and making her suck him all the time. What else would this man try to do, I wondered. He'd already tried to kill me and had murdered Joasia and June. I have no doubt that he'd organised the deaths of Varinka and Susan. And now a townie of his murdered, what was in his eyes, my only defence. The fact that he was so very wrong was about the only thing that prevented him from killing me.

I dropped my hand down and felt a small head, I peeked over the arm of my lounger, Umber, I hadn't heard her arrive. I stroked her head and she pressed her cheek into my hand. My girls did this to show me affection while maintaining their subservience. I wondered again why they stayed with me. I was very, very glad that they did, I just wondered why.

Sasha came and sat in my lap, "Thinking about Sir Gerald?" she asked.

I nodded, "Yeah," I sighed. Then I spotted that her blouse wasn't tucked into her skirt so my hand sneaked up inside to cup a warm breast. Sasha settled against me, seemingly comforted by my attentions.

We sat together, quiet but comforted by each other's presence, each alone with our thoughts.