The Bondmaid Adventures
Books 5 & 6
From: “Bondmaids in the City”
Taken from the Carnival,
April and Niki are passed on to a crooked dealer in stolen bondmaids…
After an hour rattling along what seemed to be a country
road April heard the bustle of a city gradually envelop them once more. Presumably this was Flauntwell. Finally the cart turned off into an echoing
enclosed space. It drew up and April
heard one of their captors call out: ‘Hallo, Charlie. We’ve got the goods.’
A new voice replied: ‘Bring ‘em through here, then, so I can have a proper look…’
The sacking was pulled back, their
ankles were untied, and they were pulled off the cart onto their feet and led
across a stretch of cobblestones and through a doorway.
‘Hook them up there,’ said the new
April felt herself stood in a corner
and a hook from some ceiling-hung chain passed through the loop of her rope
collar at the back of her neck and pulled tight, drawing her painfully
upright. She felt Niki being similarly
secured by her side. Then their
blindfolds were pulled off.
They were in what looked like a small
neat workshop with pebble-glass windows.
There was a sturdy strap-hung workbench, a hand-operated printing press,
a large magnifying glass on an adjustable stand and rows of shelves crammed
with boxes, pots and bottles. A couple
of inner of doors led off to other rooms.
The hulking forms of the two thugs who
had held them captive were standing before them. As always hood masks concealed their
faces. Beside them was a smaller man
with a black cloth mask covering the upper half of his face, through the
eyeholes of which shone sharp blue eyes.
‘There we are, Charlie,’ the first
thug said proudly. ‘A pair of prime maids.
Real hot cunnies.’
‘Worth a pretty penny on the block,’
his companion added.
‘All right lads,’ Charlie said. ‘Let me look them over first…’
He assessed April and Niki with
practiced hands and eyes. Their breasts
were lifted and pussies probed. He
examined their brands carefully, muttering as he did so: ‘Yes, I can do
something with these…’ Then he squeezed and pinched the muscles of their
buttocks, thighs and calves to test their strength. They might have been horses being appraised
for sale. In Nethervale
the process was much the same.
‘I’ll give you seven and six each for
them,’ Charlie said at last.
April shivered. It was quite a lot of money by local
standards, but still it was the price of their bodies and all rights to them.
‘They’ll fetch ten bob on the block
easy, maybe more!’ the first thug protested.
‘Seven and six,’ Charlie repeated
firmly. ‘Which I’ll wager is seven and
six more than they cost you. Who’s got
to provide the paperwork to make them legal?
Who has to fix their brands? I’ve
got to turn a profit. Take it or leave
After much grumbling the pair agreed
and coins changed hands. Without a
backward glance the thugs went outside.
In a minute April heard the cart drive off.
Meanwhile their new owner took a lash
from a hook and held it up for them to see.
‘I don’t want to mark you but I will if I have to. Now, are you going to give me any trouble?’
They shook their heads.
He untied their gags and then selected
a small brown bottle from a shelf. Unscrewing the lid that held the rubber bulb
of an eyedropper he drew up some of the yellowish fluid from the bottle.
‘Open your mouths and put your tongues
out,’ he commanded.
They obeyed. Carefully he applied three drops of fluid to
their waiting tongues.
April felt the fluid burning on her
tongue, making her eyes water, and she gulped down saliva as she
swallowed. For a moment her throat
burned as well, then it seemed to go icy cold, making her gasp. The intake of breath seemed to chill her
lungs. Slowly the cold became a
spreading unnatural numbness below the base of her tongue. In a panic she tried to voice her alarm but
no words came, only a rasp of breath. By
her side Niki was making feeble incoherent croaks. It was as if their vocal chords had been
Charlie held out the bottle for them
to see. The label read: JYMPSON’S FINEST
BONDMAID MUTING MIXTURE. And in smaller
writing: Apply three drops twice a day.
‘This is the latest thing,’ he
said. ‘Everyone’s using it. Keeps girls quiet without gags. Worth every penny I say.’
April and Niki looked at each other
with frightened eyes. They had become
used to gags but this was something new and an even more intimate restriction
on their freedom. Niki opened her mouth
and strained to shape words but all that came out were ragged rasps. She shook her head miserably as her eyes
filled with tears of frustration.
Charlie chucked at their efforts. ‘You better get used to it. I should think nine out of ten bondmaids in Flauntwell are being fed the stuff by now.’
April stopped fighting to speak and
hung her head mutely. It seemed that Jympson’s had finally established control over the last
orifice of their bodies. They had Jympson’s grease up their bottoms to ease anal intercourse,
Jympson’s depilating cream on their pussies to keep
them smooth and hairless and now Jympson’s drops in
their mouths to rob them of speech and render them true dumb animals. But then in Nethervale
bondmaids always had been regarded as little better than female animals that
could talk. Now even that ability was
being denied them.
Briskly Charlie went about his work
with the sureness of long practice. As
he did so he chatted to them in a not unkindly way, as one might talk to pets,
without expecting any answer but knowing he had their undivided attention.
‘Let’s get you into proper harness,’
he said, selecting two sets of worn but serviceable leather collars and cuffs
from a box. He cut the ropes from their
wrists and replaced them with locking cuffs.
Unhooking them one at a time from the ceiling chains he replaced the
loops about their necks with real collars, clicking his tongue in disapproval
as he did so. ‘Cheap hemp! Look at the marks its left… those two are idiots… that could lower your
block price.’ He applied some soothing
cream to the chaff marks.
Leaving Niki hooked up he took April
over to the bench, bent her forward across it and fastened her in place,
immobilising her hips with broad straps across her waist and about the tops of
her thighs, which were held spread and pulled tight against the side of the
bench. Her breasts flattened against the
rough wood of the bench top.
Charlie pushed a thick rubber bit
between her teeth. ‘The muting drops
don’t stop you biting and we don’t want you damaging yourself, so we?’
He took a tray down from a shelf. By twisting her head round April glimpsed its
contents as it was set down beside her.
There was an array of small bottles, lint pads, several fine brushes and
a glittering selection of fine needles and rasps of different sizes.
Charlie seated himself on a high stool
between April’s legs, swung the pivoting magnifying glass over her haunches and
minutely examined her scar brand.
‘Yes… should be no trouble there…’ he
muttered. He opened one of the bottles
and dipped a needle-tipped tool into it.
‘This’ll hurt a bit…’
April screeched and whimpered,
straining against her straps, her eyes filling with tears. It felt like he was burning her brand with
acid. But there was no escape. All she could do was endure.
For fifteen minutes he worked on her
with his tools and fluids and she shuddered and moaned as she felt her soft
flesh pricked, abraded, stained and remodelled. Stimulated by the pain and her posture her
sex engorged and grew moist, aching to be used. It was an instinctive reaction by now and
she was quite helpless to stop it.
When Charlie was done he stood between
her splayed legs and fingered her sopping cleft. ‘You’re a needy slut and no mistake. I think I’ll do well out of you…’
He unbuttoned his flies and slid his
hard shaft into her. There was no
preamble or foreplay. None were
needed. She was ready for penetration
and he was her de-facto master using her for his pleasure. That was what a bondmaid expected.
April gasped and groaned as he used
her, the lingering stinging throb in her altered brand melting away. The feel of a cock inside her was natural and
calming, the normal sequel to punishment, almost like a reward. It was virtually the only kind a bondmaid
knew. She felt a sudden wash of
helpless gratitude to her master, even though he had been the cause of her
suffering. Bondmaids were so pitifully
easy to please…
When he was done Charlie pulled out
and buttoned up, checked his handiwork was still sound, then freed April from
the bench and hooked her up on the ceiling chain again. Unhooking Niki he strapped her down across
the bench in April’s place.
April watched while Charlie worked on
Niki’s brand, making her whimper in pain in the process. She hated to see her lover in distress and
yet she could not look away. Slavish
suffering was darkly fascinating, and watching Niki’s lovely body bound and
helpless being so meticulously tormented filled April with desperate desire.
She was also able to see what Charlie
was doing to their brands. The tail of
the “R” was bleached out in some way and blended into a new tinted scar loop
that curved back into the upright to form a “B”. The skin within the circle was then lightly
roughened to hide the change.
If there were a description of them as
stolen property circulating in Flauntwell, then it
would inevitably mention their brands.
Now they had been changed, like stolen cars having false number plates
When Charlie was done he found Niki
was as aroused as April had been and took his pleasure in the same way. Niki’s protests turned to little grunts of
helpless joy. April watched his cock
pumping in and out of her lover’s sex with jealous longing.
Once he had spent for the second time,
Charlie freed Niki from the bench and secured Niki beside April once more. Taking a pair of custom-made leather and
metal chastity belts from a hook he locked them about their waists. Perforated metal cups with narrow tooth-edged
slots closed over their pussy mounds.
These linked to metal rings that encircled their anal mouths, held in
place by the straps that ran up between their buttocks to the belts. They could still pass their wastes but no
longer touch themselves or rub their sexes against anything.
‘No spending for you two until the
auction,’ he told them. ‘I want to see
you dripping to please. The more eager
you are in the pens the better price you’ll fetch on the block.’
Unhooking them he led them through one
of the side doors to a small room with a high barred window, in which stood
half a dozen bondmaid cages. Three were
empty and three had curtains drawn across them.
From behind them April heard the sudden stir of bodies shifting within the
confined spaces. Evidently they were not
the only bondmaids Charlie was handling.
How big was the black-market in bondmaid flesh she wondered?
The doors of the empty cages were
small and low, forcing a girl to enter or leave on her hands and knees. They had barred roofs but solid wooden boards
partitioned the cages from each other.
Each cell was floored with a straw-stuffed palliasse. A water bottle hung on the bars and there was
a bucket for wastes with the luxury of a sheaf of cut newspaper sheets hung by
Charlie pushed April and Niki into
adjacent cages and locked the doors.
‘Cuffs,’ he said and they pushed their cuffed hands against the bars for
him to unlock them. ‘I’ll bring you some
feed later.’ He pulled the curtains
across the front of the cells and April heard him leave the room. Now all she could see was the ceiling.
April pressed against the partition
that divided her from Niki. On the other
side she heard Niki do the same. She
tried to say: ‘I love you…’ but all that came out were feeble squeaks and
distorted throaty grunts. She heard Niki
struggling to reply, but the results were so futile and depressing they soon
gave up trying to form words. April
tried to combine all she felt and would like to say in one plaintive whimper
and Niki responded in kind.
They had been reduced to communicating
at the level of animal sounds, which was the most that was usually required or
permitted of bondmaids anyway.
Presumably if a master wanted them to be able to speak he only had to
wait for the drug to wear off. But it
was different to simply being gagged.
Their very bodies had been altered from within.
At least we’re still together, she
thought, but I wish we could touch.
After a while she thought she heard Niki crying softly.
From: “The Bondmaid’s Return”
By good luck and the
kindness of their Master and Mistress, April and Niki have returned from Nethervale to their own version of England. But they have not escaped sexual slavery, and
they are captured by the same wild band of quad-bikers who first drove them
into the other world. They join a caged
collection of naked girls the men call “bunnies…”
A couple of hours later Pyramus and Moonshine appeared
through the trees. April saw they both
now had short coiled whips and cattle prods slung from their belts.
‘Time for your exercise, bunnies,’
Pyramus said, rasping the prongs of his rods across the mesh sides of the
hutch. ‘If you’re good you can feed
The double gates of the porch only
allowed one girl at a time to crawl out, which was obviously the idea. As they did so the bikers locked the yoke
bars back onto their collars, cuffed their wrists and clipped leash chains to
their throat rings. The leashes were
clipped to the rear collar rings of the girl in front and so they were formed
up into a coffle.
When they were all linked together
they were led through the trees to a second small clearing. Here a stout post had been hammered into the
ground leaving its top at about head height.
A bicycle wheel mounted on a vertical axel capped the post. From the rim of this dangled fourteen lengths
of chain. Pyramus and Moonshine arranged
the girls in a ring about the post, clipping the collar of the last girl in
line to that of the first. Then they
clipped the chains from the wheel to the rings in the backs of their
collars. Now they were tethered in a
ring both to each other and the post, with a little slack chain between each of
Pyramus unhitched his whip and cracked
it mid-air over the heads. They all
flinched and a few whimpered in fear.
‘Now you start running,’ he told
them. ‘And lift those knees. I want to see those tits bouncing. You keep going until I tell you to stop.’
With a jerk and jingle of chains they
started off circling the post. There
were a few stumbles as the girls tried to find the right pace. They had to match the steps of the girl ahead
of them and keep a steady distance from the post. April found that it was best to keep the
chain linking her yoke to the rotating bike wheel as taut as possible and let
that keep her in position. Then she
only had to watch the rolling, bouncing bottom of the girl in front of her,
with its bobbing rabbit-tail crown.
And so they went round and round. Pyramus and Moonshine stood on opposite sides
of the circle. Any girl seen slacking
received a flick of the whip across her bottom.
Knees were lifted like show-ponies
prancing proudly. These high steps did
indeed set their breasts jiggling and bouncing. They were being taught how to perform and
display themselves like animals.
After fifteen minutes of this their
chests were heaving and they were lathered in sweat. Pyramus allowed them to take a break. Moonshine went round the circle with a water
bottle and they drank from it gratefully.
He grinned and flicked nipples swollen with effort that had dewdrops of
sweat hanging from their tips.
‘We want you to make an entrance
tomorrow so now you’re going to practice moving like proper bunnies,’ Pyramus
From a bag he’d brought with him he
produced fourteen sets of broad padded cuffs linked by short chains. He went round the circle of girls using these
to hobble their ankles. April found the
chains held her feet no more than a handbreadth apart.
Meanwhile Moonshine followed him
round, hinging their yoke arms forward, bringing their cuffed wrists about as
close together as their feet. This held
their arms crooked in front of them with their bunny paws bent forward over the
‘Now, bunnies,’ Pyramus said, cracking
his whip again to get their attention.
‘Let’s see you start hopping! Go
slow to start and keep in step.’
And so they began a second and far
more ungainly circuit of the post.
Breasts tossed and heaved and cottontails bobbed wildly as they hopped
along. The neck chains jerked against
anybody failing to keep in time with the hopping of the group. With their arms locked and ankles hobbled
they had been degradingly reduced to a parody of rabbit movement. Their fake ears only added to the spectacle,
wagging about as their heads rose and fell.
The men’s whips cracked across their
backs as they were driven on. As she
blinked the sweat from her eyes April heard pain and shame mingled in the sobs
and snivels of the other girls as they bounded round and round. They knew that they were being turned into
animals by their keepers for the amusement of others, and they knew also knew
there was nothing they could do to stop it.
Twenty minutes later, aching and exhausted from bouncing,
they were unfastened from the post. In a
coffle they were made to rabbit hop through the trees to the biker’s camouflage
As they approached April could smell
cooking and suddenly she realised how hungry she was. Within the fence she saw a very large
double-handled covered stainless-steel cooking pot resting on an upturned
crate. Beside it a long low metal feed
trough had been set out on the grass in the middle of the enclosure.
Their hobbles were removed and Wall
and Lion put them through the shower.
The girls squealed as the men soaped their groins with rough hands and
then flushed them clean. April squealed
and squirmed with the rest, though secretly she was grateful they were taking
the effort to keep them clean. Then
their yoke arms were rotated back behind them until the girls were gasping at
the twisting of their shoulders and their cuffs were pulled together.
The girls were arranged about the feed
trough seven on each side. Moonshine opened up the pot and began pouring
and scraping out a thick meat and vegetable stew into the trough.
To April and Niki this process was
quite normal. It was a simple means to
feed a number of girls at the same time.
But the others looked on it with horror and revulsion. Of course it was degrading to be fed like
this but then they were slave girls and part of their masters’ pleasure came
from humiliating them.
Megan turned her head aside in
disgust, screwing up her eyes. Pyramus
jabbed his cattle prod into her bottom making her yelp.
‘You eat, like a hungry bunny or
April glanced sideways at Niki. They dipped their heads and began eating as
neatly as was possible without hands. It
was good stew.
‘That’s right, you do it like they
do,’ Pyramus said. ‘They know how to be
With their faces pictures of acute
misery, the other girls reluctantly dipped their heads into the trough. The bikers walked round the trough looking
down at them and grinning.
‘Good,’ Pyramus said. ‘You keep those tails up until that trough is
April tried to recall the original
shame she had felt being made to eat like this and savoured the sick thrill it
gave her. It was not simply eating like
an animal with the use of her hands, it was having to do so with legs spread
and bottom stuck out and up for balance.
A girl could not do that without showing off her pussy cleft and anus to
her master. With bunny ears and tails
they must look even more degraded. She was
also conscious of her naked breasts hanging under her swaying and exposed like
udders. Glancing about she saw from the
red cheeks of the other girls and the barely suppressed tears that they were
acutely aware of their unwilling display.
Eve was kneeling almost opposite April
on the other side of the trough. Her
glossy rounded breasts were rubbing against the sides as she bent over and her
mouth and cheeks were smeared with stew.
April saw her chase a lump of potato with tongue and teeth and finally
gulp it down with an expression of triumph.
Then she saw April looking at her and smiled and blushed in
When the trough had literally been
licked clean to Pyramus’ satisfaction, he grinned down at their dirty,
woebegone faces and said: ‘Now, as you’ve been such good bunnies you can have
some strawberries and cream for dessert.
But you’ll have to bob for them.
Moonshine had a bowl of fat red
strawberries in thick cream ready. He
went along the line of them and pushed one each into the mouths of their
The girls whimpered and moaned as they
felt the soft fruits dripping with cream being pushed into their most intimate
orifices, but the threat of the whips and electric prods kept them in
place. Soon all their lovelips gaped with strawberry tongues peeping out from
between them and trickles of cream ran over pubic fuzz and down their inner
‘Now you bunnies on this side keep
your heads down while your sister bunnies are going to come round and take the
berries from your pussy holes. And I
want to see you eat them all up and lick the bowls clean. Move!’
Heads hanging in shame and misery, the
girls opposite shuffled round the trough and took up positions one behind each
of them. April found Eve behind
Pyramus’ whip cracked. ‘Do it!’
April felt Eve’s tongue hesitantly
probing her cleft. She would have tried
to squeeze the fruit out for her but that would only have pulped it.
‘I want to see those tongues going in
April felt Eve nuzzle into her, tongue
curling and lapping. It really was the
nicest sensation, but she hung her head and snivelled for effect. The bikers stood over the double row of girls
grinning at their misery.
April felt the strawberry pop out of
her. She twisted round to see Eve, red
faced with shame and wonder at what she had just done and her nose smudged with
cream, chewing and gulping it down.
Moonshine jabbed Eve with his
prod. ‘Now lick her clean,’ he
commanded. Biting her lip, Eve put her
tongue to April’s red and white vulva and began to lick.
When the last strawberry had been
extracted and pussy cleaned the girls reversed positions. April made sure she was behind Eve as she
bent down and offered up the fruit in her loins. She had a nicely rounded bottom, even if it
was trembling slightly, and a fine pouting vulva. With sobs and whimpers of shame seven tongues
were slipped into seven clefts. April
sucked out the warm strawberry from its fleshy nest easily enough but made a
show of reluctance as she licked Eve clean.
The girl had added a nice flavour of her own to the strawberry and cream
that was oozing out of her.
Suddenly there was a retching
sound. April saw Kat spitting out the
strawberry she had just sucked out of the cream-rimmed pussy of Dawn who was
bending over in front of her.
‘It’s filthy, I can’t!’ Kat sobbed.
Pyramus strode over and stabbed Kat
with his cattle prod. ‘It doesn’t matter
if you think it’s filthy, bunny, you eat it down!’
Kat shrieked and fell on her side,
kicking and writhing in pain as he jabbed her breasts and buttocks and up into
her pale pubic pouch with its slim wisp of dark hair. Only when she was reduced to a trembling heap
did he relent.
Moonshine put another cream-dipped
strawberry into Dawn’s vagina.
Pyramus pulled Kat back onto her knees
by the hair. Her eyes were red and
cheeks tear-streaked. He pushed her face
into Dawn’s groin, rubbing Kat’s nose up and down her bottom cleft.
‘Get your tongue up her cunt and suck
it out,’ he commanded.
Sobbing and shivering Kat obeyed.
The others who had still not yet
extracted their strawberries from the warm pussies before them redoubled their
efforts. One by one they sucked them out
and gulped them down, then they fell to licking clean the dainty bowls of pubic
flesh. Only when there was no trace of
cream left on the hair or lips of any vulva were they allowed to sit back on
their heels. They looked up at Pyramus
with renewed fear and terrified respect.
‘You’d better get used to the taste of
pussy,’ Pyramus warned them. ‘There’ll
be plenty more of that before this week’s over.’