Sisters in Slavery Read online

  For some time, both girls surrendered to the hopelessness of their situation and the tiny cabin filled with the sound of muffled sobs as the tears flowed, but eventually Maxine, the older of the two, forced herself to overcome her terror and began to twist and tug at the ropes binding her limbs, seeking for any weakness or slack that might enable her to wriggle free.

  She closed her mind to what might come after that first step, knowing that if she allowed herself to weigh the odds against them being able to break down the cabin door, evade recapture by the six dominants and then take over control of the junk, she would give up there and then. And if she did that, she and Melissa were finished!

  Melissa caught on fast, copying Maxine’s efforts and straining against her bonds, but could not quite get her clawing fingers to the knots. Very close, maddeningly close, but not quite close enough.

  Time sped past as the sisters arched, struggled, and panted, but the knots remained out of reach in spite of their efforts. Ever more frustrated by her inability to loosen the stubborn ropes, Maxine hit on a different tactic and with convulsive twists of her body, managed to turn over so that her back was to her sister.

  Melissa frowned as Maxine grunted urgently, but then, as she realised the significance of her twin’s action and the meaning of her twiddling fingers, she began to rock from side to side, until she too, was able to roll herself over. Inch by inch, Maxine wriggled backwards until her stretched fingers made contact with the tight rope linking Melissa’s wrists and ankles. Fumbling blindly behind her back, working by touch alone, Maxine located the knot and began to tug at the slippery nylon, her fingers clumsy with anxiety. Almost at once, to her astonishment and delight, she felt the knot begin to loosen and redoubled her efforts, working as fast as she could in sudden fear that the crewmen might return and catch her before she could finish.

  Melissa’s legs sprang out straight as the knot unravelled and she gave an inarticulate cry of joy and renewed hope. It was true that her wrists and ankles were still bound, but if Maxine could undo just one more knot, they might yet succeed in cheating Dawnelle and Shimatsu.

  Behind her, the cabin door crashed open and as Maxine gave a deep groan of bitter disappointment, Melissa knew that their small success had come too late. Framed in the doorway, Siteki’s massive figure towered over them, his thin lips drawn back from his teeth in a mirthless grin. “Very good, slaves,” he chuckled mockingly, “my congratulations on a most spirited performance. Mr. Shimatsu and I thoroughly enjoyed watching you on closed circuit television from the saloon.”

  The revelation that their efforts had all been for nothing, that they had never had the slightest chance of escaping and that they had only been allowed to build up their hopes in order to have them dashed, was too much to bear and both girls wept inconsolably, their shoulders heaving with sobs.

  Siteki stared down at them and his face grew hard and merciless. “You are slaves,” he told them coldly, “and slaves you will remain. You were allowed to think that you might escape because it amused us. But the time for amusement is over. In six hours, we will arrive at Mr. Shimatsu’s island and your training will begin. Training that I will personally supervise and you will find out that I take my duties most seriously. As slaves, you will learn instant obedience, total submission and the meaning of discipline and when you fully understand those three, you will be taught how to please your Masters as a full and willing slave.”

  His words and the tone of his voice left the sisters no room for doubt and their sobs intensified as he pulled Melissa to one side of the cabin and used the hogtie rope that Maxine had undone with such effort, to bind her wrists to a steel ring bolted to the wooden bulkhead.

  Drained of any will to resist, Maxine lay passively as he then untied her hogtie rope, dragged her to the opposite bulkhead and lashed her wrists to a second ring, securing her some eight feet away from her sister.

  “Rest,” he ordered, “in six hours your training begins.” He strode from the cabin, leaving the two distraught blondes even more hopelessly bound than before.

  Wide blue eyes stared numbly at identical misery opposite, then fell away, neither girl able to stand the abject defeat in the other’s face and their heads bowed as each surrendered to total despair. Neither attempted to fight their bonds, knowing it was useless.

  Slowly, their sobbing died away, their tears dried on their faces, replaced by grudging acceptance as the mental stress, and physical exertion of the previous hours took their inevitable toll.

  The steady throbbing of the engines and the gentle movement of the junk as it ploughed onwards became almost hypnotic and incredibly, despite their fears and the discomfort of their bondage, both girls slipped into an exhausted sleep.

  A change in the engine’s beat brought Melissa swimming up from the black pit of unconsciousness and for a brief moment, she could not understand why she was not in her own familiar bed, safe at home. The dull aching of her gagged jaws and the sight of her naked sister told her that she had not dreamed the awful events of the previous day and as memory flooded back, she gave a shrill scream of anguish. Her squeal shocked Maxine awake and as her eyes opened, she trembled wildly, instantly noting the reduction of the engine’s speed and understanding very well what it indicated. They had reached Shimatsu’s island!

  Feet thudded across the deck above them and the junk gave a gentle lurch as it came alongside, the engines dying to silence.

  Maxine stared at her sister, and then fixed her gaze on the door through which their captors would appear. For five minutes, nothing happened and she began to wonder if they had been forgotten, but then feet clattered towards them and the Captain and his two crewmen hurried into the cabin.

  Without a word they untied Maxine and Melissa from the rings and hauled them to their feet, one holding each girl tightly by the elbows as the third released their ankles.

  After being immobilised for so long, their legs were quite numb, but as circulation began to return, both girls groaned with the exquisite agony of pins and needles. The moment they could walk, they were pushed forward and taken from the cabin up to the deck, their eyes immediately blinded by the fierce sunlight.

  Squinting against the harsh light, they saw Shimatsu, Dawnelle and Siteki waiting and, behind them, a steep, rocky cliff fringed by a narrow golden beach at its base and topped by dense green trees.

  Propelled over to the waiting trio and forced to their knees before them, Maxine and Melissa winced and squealed as hands knotted in their hair dragged their heads back, compelling them to stare up at the blue sky and bending their bodies into a strained curve.

  Siteki glowered down at them and prodded none too gently at Maxine’s thighs with his shoe. “Spread your legs,” he snapped, “slaves are never permitted to close their thighs.”

  Her crewman reinforced the order with a sharp tug at her hair and with a choking sob, Maxine obeyed, forcing her knees apart until the soft pink lips of her sex gaped shamefully wide.

  From the corner of her eye, Melissa witnessed her sister’s shame, but then her own hair was pulled and she had no alternative but to spread herself in the same humiliating fashion.

  Siteki grunted, “Barely adequate, but you will improve. Take careful note of this position, slaves, it is how you will display your submission whenever you are in the presence of your Masters.”

  “And Mistresses,” Dawnelle interjected and Siteki turned to give her a long, hard look before turning back.

  “Yes. And so-called Mistresses,” he spat out the last word and Dawnelle’s lips compressed with fury.

  “What do you mean by that?” she cried angrily. “I am a Mistress and I’ve had slave girls of my own!”

  “And where are these slaves now? While you are here?”

  “Well-Well I don’t have one at the moment,” Dawnelle admitted, “I got bored with dominating my last one, so I let her go.”

  Siteki nodded his close-cropped head. “How convenient,” he said sarcastically, “and how l
ike a Westerner to let a slave go.”

  Dawnelle reddened and would have continued the argument, but Shimatsu interrupted. “My dear,” he said smoothly, “I am sure that Ito meant no insult to your abilities as a Mistress. It is merely convenient that you should have nothing to distract you while you are here. Is that not so, my friend?” and he looked meaningly at the muscular Siteki, who nodded briefly.

  “Then we have work to do,” Shimatsu continued, “there are slaves to train and I think that it would be interesting to see how a combination of both Eastern and Western skills would work. If you agree, Dawnelle, I would like you to work with Ito to train these two.”

  Mollified by his words, the redhead swallowed her dislike of Siteki and forced a smile, “As you wish, Izeki. I am sure there is much he can teach me.”

  “Good. Then it is settled.” He turned to the junk’s Captain, “Take Miss O’Keefe up to the house and get her settled in. We will take the second Jeep and bring the slaves.”

  As Dawnelle walked down the gangplank, climbed into the open Jeep and was driven away up a steep, winding path up the cliffs, Maxine and Melissa were pulled to their feet and marched over to a second Jeep where, to their dismay, long ropes were knotted about their throats and attached to the vehicle’s towing ring.

  While that was being done, Shimatsu motioned Siteki to his side, “Patience, my friend,” he began, “I share your feelings about Dawnelle. She has no respect for our Eastern traditions and ways, but that is to be expected. Europeans have allowed their women to believe themselves equal to men and she thinks her beauty and her intelligence offer her protection from her natural role. She is blind to the fact that here, on this island, she is already our captive. Simply a lovely slave who does not yet know that she is a slave! So bide your time, my friend, ignore her arrogance as I have ignored her insufferable use of my first name and when I have used her skills to repair the damage caused to my financial dealings by her stupidity, you will have your revenge. She will be yours, Ito. I give her to you, to use as you will, in return for the many years of loyal service you have given to me.”

  Siteki stared at his employer, and then bowed low. “You honour me, sir,” he replied, “and I am deeply grateful. I will do as you ask until you tell me she has completed her task.”

  Shimatsu chuckled, “And then, my friend...?”

  Siteki’s lips curved in a wolfish grin, “Then, sir, she will find that I have more to teach her than she has ever dreamed of in her worst nightmare. She thinks herself to be a Mistress, but I shall make her a slave and she will serve me better than any slave has ever served a Master! I swear it on my ancestors and my honour!” The vow was the most serious and binding that Siteki could have given and Shimatsu nodded gravely.

  Though she did not know it, Dawnelle O’Keefe’s freedom could now be counted in hours. And the clock was ticking...

  Tethered by the neck, Maxine and Melissa waited in the hot sun as Shimatsu and Siteki strode towards them and dismissed the two crewmen. Shimatsu settled himself in the passenger seat of the Jeep, but Siteki reached into the back and produced a thin, whippy, bamboo crop. Swift as a snake, he seized Maxine and bent her double, holding her with one huge hand as the crop hissed across her stretched buttocks, branding her flesh with three flaring lines of blistering heat as she screamed in pain.

  When he released her, she fell to her belly in the dirt, writhing and squealing again as a fourth cruel cut blazed across her bottom.

  “Display position,” he snapped, “unless you want more.” Maxine struggled to her knees, her eyes wide with terror as she arched her spine, thrust out her dirt stained breasts and belly and spread her thighs in absolute and immediate submission.

  The merciless punishment unnerved Melissa completely and she backed away, but the rope tightened about her throat and brought her to a halt as Maxine fell to the ground.

  The moment Siteki ordered, “Display position,” she realised the error she and her sister had made and threw herself down, presenting her naked body. It was the hardest thing she had ever had to do and she trembled wildly as Siteki walked slowly towards her, the terrible crop dangling from his hand.

  “You learn quickly, slave,” he told her, “but not quickly enough!” His hand closed on her bound wrists, levering her arms upwards and bending her forwards to give his crop unimpeded access to her bottom. He cropped her four times, each hard stroke wringing a scream from her and painting a cruelly smarting line across her buttocks.

  “Resume the position,” he said calmly and watched as Melissa made herself ignore the searing heat of her punishment and display herself as he commanded.

  Only when he was quite certain that the lesson had been learned and that neither slave had the foolhardy courage to dare to move a single muscle, did he stroll back to the Jeep and climb into the driver’s seat.

  “Up, slaves,” he shouted and as they shot to their feet, he started the engine and drove slowly away.

  There was no option and as the ropes tugged at their necks, Maxine and Melissa broke into an awkward, clumsy walk, their bound wrists bumping against their tender bottoms as they were towed away from the junk and up the steep, dusty hill.

  Chapter Four

  It was not a long walk, but the sun was hot and the Jeep’s wheels threw up a constant plume of fine dust, so by the time Siteki drove into the large, paved courtyard of Shimatsu’s house, both girls were covered from head to foot in a sticky coating of yellow powder.

  Siteki resolved the problem in the most direct manner possible, unreeling a hosepipe and turning its powerful jet on the two slaves, playing it up and down their naked bodies while they gasped and twisted and spluttered. There was no way they could evade the chilly stream and had to endure as best they could, their heads lowered as streams of water poured down their shivering bodies and cascaded in sparkling rivulets from their breasts to pool around their bare feet.

  When, finally, he turned the water off, his bedraggled, half-drowned victims looked nothing like the smart businesswoman and stylish young partygoer they had been such a scant few hours before. Deprived of freedom, stripped of their clothing, denied control over their own bodies, whipped and, finally, subjected to a hose-down that was as impersonal and efficient as a car wash, Maxine and Melissa’s woebegone expressions told Siteki that his callous treatment of them had achieved the desired effect. In the dejected slump of their shoulders as they stood passively awaiting his commands, he recognised their acceptance, however temporary, of their subordination to his dominance.

  He had seen it before, in other newly captured slaves, and was aware that the paralysis of will and spirit which gripped their minds and bodies, was a short-lived phenomenon. Given time, rest and food, the two slaves would recover and attempt to fight their slavery but while their submissive state lasted, they would be virtually unable to make any effective resistance to demands made upon them. Moreover, Siteki meant to ensure that by the time the two blondes did regain control over their senses, it would be far too late for them to have second thoughts!

  “I’ll take them down and prepare them,” he said and began to untie the ropes tethering the slaves to the Jeep.

  Shimatsu nodded, “Dawnelle and I will join you in a few minutes and we will bring Soo Lin with us. She may be a useful role model for those two,” and he walked off towards the house.

  Siteki took the two tethers in his right hand and gave a firm tug and as she felt the rope tighten at her throat, Maxine walked obediently forward, as if in a daze. Melissa knew she should try to hold back, but her brain seemed to be numbed and she could not summon up the determination needed to defy Siteki. What was the point, her mind protested, when defiance would only earn her further punishment and she would be forced to obey in any case? After the briefest of struggles, Melissa gave in and followed her sister into the house and down to a cool, brick-lined passageway.

  Siteki pushed open a heavy wooden door and led his unresisting captives into a large, windowless cell, its far wa
ll and floor studded with iron rings, while from the high ceiling, several ropes and chains looped down to strong cleats bolted to left and right.

  “Display position,” he ordered firmly and both slaves went meekly to their knees, heads arching back to present their bodies, neither moving a muscle as he took the rope tether from their throats.

  As he stood coiling the ropes, Dawnelle came into the room and Melissa shuddered as she saw that the redhead carried her spiteful crop in her left hand.

  Shimatsu followed immediately, a wooden box under his arm, but before Melissa could even begin to guess what it contained, she was distracted by the entry of a third person. A tiny Japanese girl, almost as slender as a boy, with a pretty, heart-shaped face, large, dark eyes and a swathe of straight, jet-black hair falling to her waist. Utterly and starkly naked! Or so Melissa thought, until the girl sank gracefully to her knees to display her body. Melissa’s eyes registered the polished steel rings confining her wrists and elbows behind her back, the matching rings at her ankles and knees and the collar clamped about her slim throat, not to mention the much smaller, but even more shocking rings that hung, glittering, from her nipples and labia!

  The realisation that the girl was a slave and, far more horrifying, pierced, sent Melissa surging to her feet, shaking her head in vehement denial and screaming in terror as she visualised herself with steel rings transfixing her breasts and belly!

  Siteki leapt forward and his brawny arms engulfed Melissa, her kicking legs only causing him to tighten his iron grip as he called, “Quick! Cuff her, she’s a real wildcat.”

  Melissa gasped for breath as Siteki crushed her to his massive chest and she whimpered in misery as cold, hard steel closed around each of her ankles and Shimatsu clicked the snap-lock to confine her ankles.

  Siteki changed his grip, his fingers squeezing her upper arms together and as Shimatsu fitted a second pair of cuffs above her elbows and linked them with a snap-lock, Melissa’s arms became a single, strained column.