At last, though, the victim’s frantic yowls subsided and Lady Brank seemed to lose all awareness of her misery, if not consciousness itself.  Her body, contorted as it was by her bondage, grew quiet and she hung limply against the post, eyes closed.  An occasional involuntary shudder shook her but she showed no signs of actual suffering.

"Colonel," Roger said with some alarm, "have you ever seen a girl act this way before?"

The Colonel frowned and shook his head.  "Not ever.  Why, I suppose she has gone into a trance of some sort, some state of mind in which she is able to ignore her physical condition and think of other things, that is, if she isn’t totally unconscious."  He paused and then added, "Of course, this spoils the fun of watching her go through the torment."

Roger nodded glumly.  "Well, let’s call a couple of guards to take her down and secure her here for a few hours.  It will be interesting to see how this experience has affected her."

And so it was that the Colonel rang a bell and then shouted into the call-pipe, "Annette, will you and Laura come to cell Seven?  Our newest guest needs to be released from her present position and tucked into her cot for about two hours."

The guard answered promptly, and within moments she and the guard called Laura had shown up to do their work.  "Gad, Sir," Laura exclaimed, "you have put this girl into a demanding position!  I’m impressed, surely I am.  But she looks so calm now.  That’s a very odd thing to happen, as I’ve never seen it before.  Usually, of course, the girl would still be babbling and trying to get more comfortable."

Annette added, "It may take us a while to figure out how to undo all this fine binding, Sirs.  Have you any instructions on how she should be tucked in?"

"I suppose a spreadeagle, face up, will do as well as anything," Colonel Fettering responded.  "She shouldn’t be able to touch herself anywhere, but otherwise I want no additional torments for her.  Oh, and you might carefully sponge the itching crème off her breasts, since I think it was perhaps the crème that sent her into this state." 

The guards saluted and then turned to their task.  Roger and the Colonel exited the cell and informed the guards that they would be on the terrace.  "Let us know when you’ve finished," Roger asked, "because we’ll want to see her after she has had time to recover."

Passing along the hallway between other cells on the way to the elevator, Roger remarked that he looked forward to persuading Lady Brank that servitude and bondage would serve to provide the real pleasures she needed in life.  "A woman may forget that for a while," he said, "but sooner or later the feminine desire for submission can be awakened -- and then what a splendid time we will have with her!"

"I agree completely," the Colonel said with smug satisfaction.  "It may be, in fact, that her current state is a sign that she has surrendered to this fact already."  He paused and then added, "And if this is true, then she will cooperate to the fullest in whatever demands we make of her.  Gracious, what a delicious prospect!"

As they rounded a corner in the corridor, Roger’s eyes widened in amazement.  Ahead of them, marching before another guard was a luscious blonde in quite novel bondage.  Her arms were twisted up behind her, each wrist close to the opposite shoulder, and an ultra-tight corselet squeezed her waist into 18-inch waspishness.  But what Roger found so intriguing was the iron hoop that hung on stiff rods from her waist and enclosed her legs just above her ankles.  It was perhaps ten inches in diameter, supported by three rods from the front and rear sides of her corselet.

Obviously, any attempt to take a step longer than what the hoop would allow meant a sharp blow to both the front of one shin and the rear of the other.  Roger looked at the Colonel with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, that’s a hobble-hoop’’’ Colonel explained.  "Marvelous invention for teaching a girl to stick with a very limited pace.  Why, once she’s worn it for two weeks at a time, she will find it almost impossible to take more than an eight-inch step with either foot.  Although I personally like ankle cuffs and a chain between them, this kind of training has the same consequences.  It also saves some time and expense, as well as reminding the girl that she is indeed a slave."

He paused a moment and then suggested, "What would you say to a drink out on the terrace?  I think we need something invigorating after all our work with Lady Brank."  Roger agreed at once, curious to learn more about Fettering Castle.

The Colonel led him to a stairway and up quite a distance to a door that opened onto a broad stone-paved balcony that overlooked the castle grounds.  Once outside, they discovered that the sun was warmer than they had expected.

"Gad, it’s almost hot," Roger exclaimed.  "No need to worry," he was assured, "I have just the apparatus to keep us cool.  Do you see those posts and that mechanical contraption in front of the table there?  We can sit down and wait for our cooling mechanism to be put into action." 

Several feet from the table stood two pairs of six-foot poles, each pair about a yard apart.  These intriguing pairs stood perhaps twenty feet from each other.  Between them was a most peculiar mechanical construction.  It consisted to a large, cogged wheel, more than two feet in diameter, standing vertically beside a post that held its axle.  At the lower end of the wheel, more gears were in evidence, planetary gears that would transmit the wheel’s rotations at a right angle to another axle.  Additional gears led eventually to an overhead axle that ended in a large fan fixed above the table.  Closer inspection of the main wheel revealed two swivel-joints set on the same side of the large wheel, one outside the other, about twelve inches from the wheel’s center.

"Curious apparatus, eh?" the Colonel asked with a self-satisfied grin.  "You’ll see in a moment how it works."  He turned toward the doorway back into the castle and shouted, "Valerie, will you bring the two piston-girls to us?"  A moment later, the guard’s "Yessir" was heard.

"I think you’ll like this," the Colonel told Roger.  "I have a couple of gorgeous young girls who act as though they don’t like what will be required of them, but in fact they love it.  You’ll see."

In a moment, the guard Valerie came through the door, leaving two handsome slavegirls by leashes attached to their nose-rings.  Each was corseted and hobbled, and had her wrists cuffed behind her, but lacked a gag of any kind.  They were sleekly muscular, exhibiting strength as well as ample feminine charm. "Colonel," she said, "here are Tingle and Tango. I’ll let them introduce themselves first, and then I think they will serve you very well."  To her two charges she said, "Take your positions, please."

Without hesitance, the girl called Tingle shuffled to stand between one pair of the poles.  She was a full-breasted brunette, of about average height.  "Masters, she said meekly, "I am your slave Tingle.  I have been in the Colonel’s service for two years now, and this afternoon I will be one of your piston-girls."  The guard clipped Tango’s leash to a ring set in one of the other pair of poles and then moved to prepare Tingle.  After her wrist cuffs had been freed, the girl obediently raised her arms so that her upper arms were level with the floor and her elbows touched the poles.  Then she held each forearm vertically against its pole.  Straps soon bound each of her arms in this position.  Next, the girl’s hobble was removed and her feet were drawn wide so that her ankles could be strapped at the base of each pole.

With deft expertise, Tango was soon fixed in the same position.  Valerie slapped her thigh with her crop and the wasp-waisted blonde said, "Masters, I am Tango, in service here for not quite two years.  Like Tingle, I am proud to serve you.  Please use me sternly."

Roger frowned, wondering how this arrangement could have anything to do with the fan that was supposed to cool them.

Val disappeared for a moment and then returned with two long rods, each about ten feet long and each with a thick, hard-rubber phallus fixed vertically at one end and a clamp at the other end.  At first, she fitted the free end of each pole to the swivel-joints on the side of the wheel, one rod pointing toward each of the girls she had just stationed there.  Then, of course, each of the dildo-mounted ends of the rods was forced up into one of the girls’ bodies, wringing grunts from them that expressed both discomfort and pleasure.  A strap from the rear of the rod to the rear of each girl’s corset held it firmly in place, tight between her thighs.

At last Roger could figure out why the Colonel had mentioned "piston-girls"!  One of them would have to thrust her hips forward, making the wheel turn, while the other had to pull her hips back an equal distance.  With a twenty-inch space to be moved with each turn of the wheel, the girls would have to maintain as vigorous back-and-forth motion to keep the wheel -- and thus the fan -- moving a the proper speed.  The guard Val used her crop on Tingle’s bare buns to get them started.

Both Roger and the Colonel chuckled with pleasure as they observed the piston-girls at work.  The distance each one had to move her hips with every turn of the wheel was sufficient to keep their dildos busy inside them and soon they could hear rough nasal snorts and moans of arousal from them.  Kept at the job for enough time, each was sure to reach a healthy climax from time to time.

Once certain that the piston-girls would continue their work, Val left to bring a glass of Scotch to each of the men.  Before they had taken more than a few sips, Tingle groaned loudly, bent her head back, and did what she could to twist her hips from side to side.  Colonel Fettering commented, "I suppose it’s been a while since she’s been over the top like this, so I’m not surprised that she’s cum so soon.  No doubt Tango will follow her example shortly."

He was correct, of course.  A moment later, Tango also groaned her pleasure, shaking her head back and forth, and attempted to speed up the rhythm of the pair’s alternate thrusts.  Tingle apparently agreed with this purpose, for the fan’s speed increased and the two men enjoyed a considerably stronger current of air.  Grinning, Roger clapped his appreciation, but the girls showed no recognition of their achievement.  Both were intent on prolonging the joy that was exploding between their legs and could think of nothing else.  Their cries of excitement were loud and lustful.

"We should observe about three orgasms per girl by the time we finish our drinks," the Colonel noted.  Sure enough, Tango underwent a second climax in a matter of just a few minutes.  She twisted her body from side to side as much as she could, making her spectacular breasts sway wildly and shrilled, "Yes, yes, oooh -- YESsss !"  If she could have done any more with her hips, she certainly would have.

Inspired by her companion’s howl of pleasure, Tingle followed suit almost immediately, giving the two men another delightful exhibition of the raw ecstasy that made the pair so happy to serve as piston-girls.  And before their chortling audience, each underwent a third carnal climax that seemed to be more powerful and long-lasting than their previous experiences. 

Seeing the men finish their drinks, Val snapped her crop across Tingle’s shuddering breasts, leaving both girls to hang limply in their bonds and gasp at the incredible pleasures they had in fact inflicted upon themselves.  "Amazing," Roger said with relish.  "No wonder they enjoy their work so much!"

Finishing their drinks, the men stood.  "Thank you, Valerie," the Colonel said.  "I suggest that you return these lovelies to their cells so that they can dream of the next time we will need their services."  The guard nodded and began to free the two hard-breathing girls.

"I should imagine Lady Brank will have recovered a bit by now," Colonel Fettering chuckled.  "Let’s go and see what state she is in now."

After taking the elevator down to the dungeon area, the two men found the cell in which Lady Brank had been placed.   Beside the door stood a guard that Roger did not recognize.  She was a well-developed redhead with a serious expression on her face.  "This is Pamela," the Colonel told Roger.  "She is one of our newer guards.  Pam, please tell Roger about your background."

The woman, well into her thirties, bowed her head briefly and then said, "I’ve been here just two months, Sir.  Previous to that, I had spent a good deal of time in psychotherapy and finally discovered that my deepest need is to control others.  That’s what makes this job so satisfying, and I am finding that restraining and disciplining the slavegirls here suits me perfectly."

Pamela paused and then said, "Colonel, I think I know what the Lady Brank experienced in her cell while you were, uh, treating her.  She is so completely ambivalent about whether to be dominant or submissive that she could not deal with the inner conflict.  Thus, she fainted."

"Have you a prescription for her treatment, Pam?" the Colonel asked.  "Yes, Sir, I do," the guard responded.  "While rinsing off the itching-crème from her breasts, Annette and I discovered some curious dimples on either side of each breast.  Well, we both recognized immediately what they signified.  Colonel Fettering, this woman has been ringed before!"

"Astounding!" the Colonel answered.  "And what have you done about it?"

"We found," Pamela told him, "that these were the entrances to her breast-ring tunnels.  An experiment with a probe showed that each tunnel was still open, inside the outer concealment, probably due to the permanent scar tissue inside.  I would recommend, Sir, that these tunnels be used again, and later some sexual stimulation.  I believe that the experience would tilt her toward her submissive side, and that she will become much more interesting after she has given up her dominant tendencies."

"By all means, then," the Colonel answered, "let’s do it!"

"Let me take you inside now.  We had to give her a whiff of knockout gas to prevent her struggles, and she is still unconscious.  Annette has gotten a pair of rings -- really D-rings since each tunnel is nearly three inches in length -- and we can insert them now if you wish."  She opened the cell door and allowed Roger and the Colonel to precede her into the room.  Sure enough, Lady Brank lay unconscious in the loose spreadeagle in which she was imprisoned.

The Colonel said with an eager tone, "By all means, ladies, go ahead and fit our new guest with the apparatus she has lacked for so long.  And later we will see whether a teaser-dildo won’t help her to appreciate her new situation."

The two guards went to work immediately, and before long each of their victim’s breasts had been fitted with two heavy silver D-rings.  Soon a soft moan came from the spreadeagled woman’s throat.  She turned her body slightly, discovered that her chains prevented any more movement, and grunted.  Then she opened her eyes.  "My God," she murmured, "it’s real."  She raised her head, looked down at her breasts, and whispered, "The rings, the rings!  It’s been so long. . . and they feel so right!"  She twisted her shoulders back and forth, making her breasts sway, and gave a brief "Mmmmm" of pleasure.

A moment later, she looked up at her captors.  "Ahh, Masters, you have discovered my secret.  Yes, I used to enjoy these rings in my breasts -- they are quite stimulating, really -- and I believe now that I am ready to return to servitude.  It will be such a relief to have no more decisions to make, no more worry about whether my girls are sufficiently secured and under control."  She twisted her shoulders again, sighing at the sensation this produced.

"A gratifying conclusion, my dear," the Colonel smiled.  I can assure you that we will do everything possible to satisfy your newly-awakened desires."  He turned to Roger.  "Have you any suggestions for how we should handle her in the beginning?  After all, you were her assistant when she was making such decisions."

Roger pursed his lips.  "I remember that she was always interested in keeping her girls aroused, even though she rarely allowed them to climax.  A teaser-dildo will certainly be in order, then, along with severe arm-bondage and a breast-leash.  High-heeled boots were also her preference for girls when they were not being used as ponies, and she would not allow anything longer than a ten-inch hobble."  He nodded his head sharply.  "And, of course, she kept her girls strictly gagged most of the time."

"But I’d like to hear her comments and complaints occasionally," the Colonel protested.  "Maybe we can do without a gag until we think we’ve heard most of what she has to say."  Roger replied, "Surely, Colonel.  We can listen to her howl and yelp all we want.  She’ll know the gag is always a possibility!"

Lady Brank said firmly, "But I must inform you, Masters, that there will be days when I regret having given in to your plans.  I will be rebellious, angry, as disobedient as possible."  After seeing the men’s looks of suspicion, she added, "And then will be when you must be very strict and harsh.  I will scream my defiance if I’m not gagged, and you will deal out whatever discipline you deem necessary.  All I ask that the pain be not too severe.  I know that a certain amount of it will be needed, but I cannot abide the sense that you are inflicting pain simply for the sake of pain.  That is torture, not discipline, and I’m sure you don’t enjoy that, any more than I used to.  I must be taught that obedience is mandatory, by whatever means you choose, but do not enjoy pain itself."

Colonel Fettering nodded his head.  "Exactly our belief, Madam.  You will be in constant bondage, forced to engage in many acts that are laborious, humiliating, and entirely appropriate for a slavegirl, but we will not cause pain simply because we want to."

The woman took a deep breath, looked down again at her newly-ringed breasts, and whispered, "I am truly exhausted now, Masters, after all I’ve been through.  If it pleases you, let my new career in bondage begin tomorrow morning rather than right away.  I must readjust my thinking before I am truly prepared to accept servitude as a way of life.  I’m sure you understand."

Roger snorted.  "Shall we offer favors first, Colonel?  I should think that some additional restraint will help rather than hinder her reformation."  The Colonel nodded thoughtfully.

"Some fetters at her ankles will be appropriate, as will some heavier arm-bondage."  He turned to the guard Pamela and said, "Will you see that Lady Brank is outfitted as we have suggested?  And you might consider a new name for her, now that ‘Lady’ is no longer her rank."

"I’ll be more than happy to see that the new slave appreciates her situation," Pamela replied.  "Ankles close together and arms wrist-to-elbow should be enough for this evening."  Then she added, "What about ‘Blaze’ as a name for the new slavegirl?  We can dye a white stripe across the top of her dark hair, from forehead to nape, to symbolize her new condition."

"’Blaze’ it is!" the Colonel barked with delight.  "She will think soon enough that she is suffering the fire of submission!  Go to it, and be stern."  Pamela nodded and went to the cabinet where she could obtain the proper equipment."

Roger and Colonel Fettering turned to the cell door.  "Blaze, darling, you will find us at work on you tomorrow morning after your toilette and whatever you are given for breakfast.  Until then, dream lusciously of all the new restraints and torments will yours for the days and years that lie ahead."  The slavegirl Blaze murmured, "Thank you, Masters.  I shall obey."

The End