Lost Property (15 page)

Angie stood looking down at the city in a daze. She didn’t know where to begin, it was the most utterly cynical political manoeuvre she had ever heard of.

“Incidentally,” he went on before she could reply, “I thought the Silvers were very unlucky to lose the other week. The N’Benga stable just got lucky at the end.”

“What?! After the pony racing there was only ever one team in it! Those pillars nearly spoiled what should have been a well fought out finale. Okay, they were good to watch, but they nearly spoiled the sport…!” She stopped suddenly and realised she had taken the bait. She was a highly paid, respectable professional and she loved the games in the arenas, loved watching the slaves compete and suffer so erotically. It was sport to her and she had to admit she didn’t care where the slaves came from.

Mostyn was looking at her with wry amusement.

“I think you see my point. In return for getting what it wants, society will get what it needs, which is the underclass divided, ruled and held where it is. And the government that can supply what society wants will be elected – another lesson from ancient Rome.”

“Bread and circuses!”

“Precisely!”

“But where does Proteus fit in?”

“Have you not guessed? It’s training the first batch of state-supplied gladiators.”

Angie turned to face Mostyn, aghast as the final implications sank in. “But…but Kath’s there! I’ve got to get her out!”

“Quite impossible I’m afraid, and probably too late in any case. She was a delicious creature, I actually miss her, but one has to make sacrifices and I’ve made alternative arrangements as I’m sure you have.” He walked back to his desk and resumed his seat.

“How do you mean too late?” Angie asked, hating herself for the quaver in her voice.

“The trainer knows his business,” Mostyn replied, “and she is very submissive. I don’t think she’ll want to leave. That’s the point of Proteus really; to turn outwardly ordinary working girls into submissives so extreme they will stay loyal to their stable even if every door in the place is flung open.”

“Hang on! She’s not part of any underclass, why are you trying to train girls like her?”

“We envisage a stable in nearly every major city, they will need a lot of slaves! So we thought, why not push the envelope; see how far up the social scale we can spread the net.”

Angie whistled in disbelief. This was far bigger than anything they had imagined. But she could see the logic behind it, the tribal loyalties that had surrounded football clubs was gone, the streets were lawless, girl gangs were proliferating and bored youths robbed and fought with impunity, although more draconian sentencing was coming in. The wealthier parts of society were so cosseted that they would grasp at anything that gave them risk, danger, sex, excitement. And if it could all be provided for them vicariously, safely on their screens, then they would most certainly vote for it, especially if the streets were safe to be walked on at night. Not that anyone would of course, not if there was a good show at an arena on the TV. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Kath becoming part of it, but the journalist in her knew she was sitting on the scoop of the decade.

“Listen Mister Mostyn,” she said, marching back to his desk and leaning on the front of it. “You need news management here. You need to get the public used to the idea, tease them, trail by leaks on the net. Start the debates in the pubs and clubs, then when the whole thing is really ready to get up and running, your public will be right alongside you!”

“Ah! It’s not so much ‘I’ve got to get Kath out of there,’ it’s more ‘I’ve got to get my story out of there’.” Mostyn smiled triumphantly.

Angie had the grace to blush. But this was much bigger than they had thought and poor Kath had just got caught in the wheels. But at least she was where she would enjoy herself and perhaps she could hire the girl and enjoy her again sometime. In the meantime she could serve her original purpose very nicely indeed.

“Yes, I admit it. This is a real scoop and you need our help!”

“You know, part of the reason we delayed starting Proteus was because we couldn’t find any family or close friends for Kath, and of course I know why now. I was suspicious but in the end I thought she was so suitable, I just had to let her go. So what do you suggest?”

“ What better way to get the public on-side than by serialising the diaries of a slave as she is trained for a life in the arenas. It’ll be pure sex and submission and we’ll spin it if necessary – but I doubt if it will be - so she’s loving every minute of it. People will lap it up and flock to the games to try and identify the mystery slave!”

“And meanwhile The Journal makes a killing.”

“True. But we’re the only ones who can help you to take advantage of the opportunity that’s dropped into both our laps.”

Mostyn steepled his fingers reflectively for a moment. “Leave me your number and I’ll call you tomorrow. I’ll have to consult before I authorise any leaks. How had you envisaged Kath making contact?”

“Just by phone. We hadn’t envisaged Proteus involving the girls being kept naked!”

“Okay. I’ll get back to you no later than tomorrow.”

Brian re-read the e mail carefully and then took a mouthful of coffee from the mug that Caroline had placed on his desk.

“Problem, Sir?” she asked.

“Not really. It’ll just take a bit of thinking about. Bring the lads in here and get a floor plan of the house from the filing cabinet over there. We’ll need to make sure one of our little rats can find its way through the maze!”

Caroline raised an eyebrow but made no comment.

Ten minutes later, roused from their common room after a long day spent drilling their charges the trainers gathered in the estate office.

“We’re about to move onto the next phase of their training, but we’ve got to add a bit of a wrinkle to accommodate the big bosses in Whitehall. Mike, I need that brunette of yours to escape.”

There was immediate agitation that Brian allowed to run for a second before quashing.

“Only so far as the locker room. They want her to make phone contact with the outside world.”

“Why?! We’ve been told absolute secrecy is essential!” Mike protested.

“Yes, but apparently that little slut is a reporter who was planted here by her paper. The bosses want her to start filing stories…” He held up his hand to stall the storm of protest. “Don’t worry! She’s not going to finger anyone. They’ll keep a tight rein on the stories so that no one will know where this is or who anybody is. The angle will be the diary and blog of a slave girl. It’s to get Joe Public close to a slave girl so he can relate to her and take an interest as the first state arena gets set up. Makes sense.”

There were still some mutterings but he showed them the e mail and assured them that anything the brunette sent would be heavily edited back at head office.

“Now, as it happens, this sort of fits in with the next stage of training. They haven’t had it for over a month, apart from wanking themselves half to death of course!”

The CCTVs in the office had afforded the men many hours of entertainment as they had watched the girls administer hand relief. Some money had changed hands on bets as to which could masturbate the most frequently and for the longest time. Steve had won by betting on both counts on the – now not so tubby – little blonde girl who had been whipped on the very first day. She had turned out to be voracious and to have remarkable powers of endurance.

“I want them used by you from now on. You too, Caroline and Helga – any of them you fancy, have them service you during the days. But it has to be random use. Don’t let a pattern emerge – make it absolutely plain to them that they must serve as and when they are required to. Their wishes do not enter into it.”

There was a nodding of heads in agreement.

“The only thing we need to be careful of is on those nights when Mike pays our little traitor a visit. I don’t want her bumping into anyone – she needs to get to the locker room undisturbed. Now let’s see which doors we need to leave unlocked and which we leave her keys to. It mustn’t be too easy for her – but I don’t want her wandering about lost all night. Mike, I’ll tell you how I think we’ll play it in a minute.”

When Kath had the energy to stay awake for more than a few seconds after she was put to bed each night and had masturbated away the lusts that being naked with all the other girls had awoken during the day. And the ever-present bulges in the guards’ jeans didn’t help either, she had to admit that she was enjoying the life. She was fitter and stronger than she had ever been. The last time she had been weighed and measured, she had seen herself in a full length mirror and hardly recognised herself. Her hair was thicker, longer and more lustrous than it had ever been. Her waist was tight and smooth, her hips curvaceous without a trace of boxiness, her thighs were smooth skinned and tighter than they had ever been. Had she been allowed clothes, for once in her life she would have leapt at the chance of wearing a bikini. And as for her breasts! She had cupped them and stroked them proudly as they stood more proudly and more rounded than she had ever seen them. The black haired girl, who she now knew was called Caroline, had smiled at her and given her a lascivious wink before returning her to her cell.

One night, soon after, she was woken by a rattling at the door of her cell, and peering sleepily towards it she saw Mike fumbling with the lock. Eventually he unfastened it and entered, closing the padlock behind him. He was a silhouette against the dim light that was on permanently in the corridor but as he came to stand over her she caught the rich smell of spirits on his breath. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off then sat heavily on the side of her bed, kicked off his shoes and then stood again to drop his pants and trousers.

Kath watched him with a strange mixture of emotions. Night after night she had lain here and felt herself pour out her juices at the thought of being taken by one of the men. But now that it was happening, she realised that it had been a long time since she had been taken by a man. And Mike was definitely all man. As he stood up she could see his physique in sharp relief and also the jutting pole of his erection. Despite the abruptness of how this was inevitably going to happen, Kath felt herself heat and melt at the sight. But at the same time she felt a pang of longing for her Mistress. The last man who had fucked her had been a slave to one of Angie’s domme friends, an overweight man with a thick thatch of body hair. It had only been the pleasure she saw in Angie’s face as she watched Kath open herself to someone she felt no attraction towards at all that had enabled her to moisten enough to accept his thick cock into her. And Angie had gone on laughing and joking with her friends while the man had rutted away at her. It had been that careless disposal of her body that had propelled her to orgasm under the man. And that of course had led to more amusement among the dominants.

But her thoughts were interrupted by Mike pulling aside the quilt roughly and climbing into bed with her. There was precious little room as Mike was a big man, and that meant that Kath came into contact with the whole of a man’s body virtually all at once. She felt its rough hairiness and the hard muscles of his arms and thighs, and there was the iron hardness of his cock digging into her side.

“Pretty little whore, you are!” he said, slurring a little. “Need to fuck you good!”

Kath’s breath came out as a tremulous sigh as she turned towards him, her back against the bricks of the cell wall and her hands began to trace the muscular contours of his body, inevitably finding their way to his groin. For his part he groped in the semi dark for her breasts, closing his massive hands in her flesh and mauling it harshly. It was just what she liked and she thrust them harder at him to encourage him. He chuckled and moved one hand down her body, cupping her vulva in it, his fingers spreading out across her bottom, his palm beginning to exert pressure on her clitoris. He began to rub at it at the same time as he slipped his other hand away from her breast and put it around her shoulders, drawing her to him. She went willingly, thrilled that at last her nudity had achieved some response. She wriggled to lie underneath him and caught her breath as he shifted his grip on her crotch and his thick fingers entered her while his thumb rubbed even more harshly at her clitoris. His erection dug into her stomach. His mouth descended over hers, redolent of whisky, demanding, hard, his tongue thrusting into her open mouth. Then with a suddenness that made her groan, he took his fingers out of her and shifted to lie between her wide-spread legs. She reached down and gripped his shaft, almost scaring herself as she tried to clasp her fingers round its thickness, but in a sudden hurry to feel it inside her, she lodged it at her entrance, he thrust, and in one smooth movement he was inside her and then further inside her and she groaned into his mouth as he thrust again and she felt him hit her cervix.

It was so good to have a man again.

She reached her arms around him to try and encompass his size. She wrapped her legs around him to open herself even more, his weight bore her down and squeezed the breath from her as he thrust for his release, then suddenly he was pounding into her, making the bed springs squeak as he drove her downwards, again and again. From deep inside her a tide of ecstasy flowered and flooded her whole body as her vagina was stimulated beyond anything it had experienced for so long. And still he thrust, now his face was beside hers and she bared her teeth into the dark as she fought for her own climax, slapping up against him as he ground down into her. Then she came, arching up off the bed, even lifting him with her as her pleasure exploded inside her. Beside her she heard Mike roar as he spent himself into her and then he slumped down on top of her, breathing heavily.

Slowly Kath recovered her own breathing and realised that she was pinned under a very heavily asleep man. She wriggled sideways as best she could and eventually managed to prop herself up against the curving wall. She looked down at him and smiled fondly at the memory of how it had felt to have him inside her, then realised that there was virtually no room for her to sleep. It was fairly warm so the thought of stripping the quilt off and wrapping it around her while she slept on the floor seemed the only alternative and she had just managed to crawl over him and was standing beside the bed when she noticed his clothes. His trousers were in a heap and on the belt, shining dully in the low light was a key ring.

Her heart stopped for a second and then pounded. But her first thought was to get to her phone, speak to Angie, resolve all the questions, put her mind at rest, the notion of escape never entered her head. She carefully manoeuvred the ring off the belt and dropping the quilt she went over to the door. At the second attempt she found the padlock key and tip-toed out, making sure that Mike was breathing deeply and steadily. The door out of the cell corridor was the next on the ring and she was in the passage that led to the bathrooms and where they ate, doors opening off it just led to the other girls’ cells. Desperately she tried to remember the route they had taken the first day they had been brought there. The locker room was through the medical room and that was beyond the kitchen. The only light now was what came through the windows but with her eyes acclimatising, she crept forwards. One door after another opened and she found herself in the kitchen. The door out was locked but she found the key eventually and was finally in the passage that led to the medical room. It was all she could do not to run. At last she could talk to Angie, find out the truth and then tell the world the truth about Proteus. The dampness trickling down her thighs embarrassed her as she remembered how eagerly she had received her jailer. But it was wrong, she told herself, she was being held against her will.

The door to the locker room opened, the bag with the keys was hanging on a hook – they must have been so confident! she thought as she hunted through it trying key after key until she found hers. Then there was a frantic fumble in the dark among her clothes – they felt strange to her, like someone else’s – and then there was the comforting plastic rectangle. She turned it on and was almost blinded by the screen light, hastily she used the locker door to shield it until it was ready and then with trembling fingers she found Angie’s number and called it, hoping that she would have the phone by her bed, but if not, she could leave a voice mail. Anything!

“Hello?” A sleepy voice answered after four rings.

“Oh thank God!” Kath found her voice breaking with emotion at the sound of Angie’s voice.

Angie waited until the storms of emotion had abated somewhat.

“No, you silly little goose, I didn’t sell you! Yes, I’m sure they told you that. Maybe some of them were, but not you! Now just calm down and tell me what’s going on. Do you know where you are?”

She started to record off her mobile as Kath began to whisper her story.

“Okay, babe,” she said at last when Kath’s report was fully up to date – although she was sure that one of the guards would have fucked her by now, funny that she didn’t mention that. “You’ve done brilliantly. This is dynamite! Leave it with me, we’ll try and find you, I promise. In the meantime, stay safe and contact me again when you can.”

She broke the connection after she had given the girl enough endearments to calm her down, then she stood up, stretched and yawned. There was still time to get some sleep. Mostyn had done well and Kath had come in pretty well dead on time. In the morning she would play it all back and begin to edit and re-write it, a lot more sex was required for public consumption. It wasn’t as if Kath was ever going to read it, after all. Back in the bedroom, she slipped under the quilt and gently slid her arm over the sleeping blonde next to her.

“Please can I have some food?”

The voice was soft and lacked the defiant edge it had had for the past few days. Peter Lang grinned in the gloom outside the cell. He dipped the spoon into the broth and held it out to the slot cut in the door. There was a long silence and he could envisage the conflict raging within the slut as she debated whether to cave in after three days. But suddenly her mouth was there, opening hopefully and he began to feed her.

From here on in, it would be easy.