by Raul Roget
Chapter 10: Sister Meets
The welcoming committee turned into a mob scene. All but one of the ranch residents, including all six slaves, turned out to meet Master George’s daughter. It was a bit unusual for the full crew to turn out, but the story had gone around rapidly of her mistreatment of Master Major and the three slaves. Master Allen had announced the details of how and why she was coming, adding a bit of spice.
Three video cameras and at least two of the security cameras were directed toward the spot in the parking area where the first act of this drama was going to play out. Slave Petra was placed in charge of restraints and had assembled a display on the lawn that was more than ample.
Master Allen had called his friend Major and given him all the details. He had made three other calls, one to his lawyer and the other to the county sheriff, telling both exactly what was going on and how he planned to handle it. Neither saw any serious problem with what he had planned, but the sheriff reminded him in passing that it had to be willing on her part. Master responded by describing the camera setup he would be using.
The third call was to George’s son, Bill. He reached him on his cell phone as he was already getting on the road. He told Bill what would be waiting for him when he got to the ranch, and suggested several things to do to his sister before they arrived. Bill told him that he had his sister blindfolded, gagged and her wrists and ankles tied with rope.
“OK, I want you to release her completely as soon as you turn in at the gate. Tell her she is going to be taped from the moment she steps out of the car. She will have to read aloud and sign a statement that she is voluntarily taking special training. If she shows the slightest sign of reluctance she gets tied up again and goes right back in the car and straight to the Sheriff’s office.
“The Sheriff tells me she can be charged with Grand Theft for the check as well as the misappropriation rap, which adds up to 35 years. She won’t be eligible for parole until the 15 for Grand Theft is over.”
“Have her put on fresh makeup and lipstick and make sure she covers any marks from her gag strap. When you come into the yard, I want her looking out, with the window rolled down and showing some normal curiosity. She doesn’t have to fake a smile, just some interest. I don’t want her cringing as if someone was going to hit her with a baseball bat.”
Master had to do some firm convincing, as Bill was threatening to strangle her on the spot 'not to avoid paying for her training but because he was so pissed off at her.'
The phone call paid off because sister Helen was cooperating to the max when Bill’s Cadillac drove into the yard a half hour later. Bill had no sooner shut the motor off when another car came out of the dust cloud and drove in, parking on the other side of Bill’s car. The hat was familiar and Master Allen chuckled. It was Master Major, just in time for the festivities.
Helen got out of the car and a second later Bill appeared, tower ing over her by a good foot. Master strode to meet them, welcomingthem and Major in the same breath. Master looked closely at Helen and satisfied himself that her face showed no sign of her recent bondage. He showed them most of the cameras and explained to her that in order to take the special training his ranch offered she would have to read for the cameras and then sign several papers connected to her training.
He grinned to himself as he watched her eyes while he was explaining things. She managed to keep from even flickering her hatred for what was coming to her, but there was just enough set to her jaw to make her attentive look a lie. He decided she was a good actor who would need close watching.
Bill apparently had scared her badly. Master was sure that Bill had rubbed in the fresh charge that could add another 15 years to her jail time. Helen had a burning suspicion that this place would be a much bigger hell hole than jail but she didn’t expect it to last that long. She figured she’d be in an out in a month. She’d be in for a surprise.
She walked to the dais, directed by Master Allen’s light but firm grip on her arm. Bill was a step behind her, hovering, and Major brought up the rear, ignoring Helen as he greeted the others, nodding to the slaves in recognition. Without seeming to look he moved into position flanking Helen as Master Allen stood on her other side. Bill backed up a step, but she glanced around and knew he was right behind her.
When everyone was in position Master Allen turned to Helen. “Would you please read aloud and then sign this document, which is the reason you are here.”
Helen took the paper, glanced at the spectators and in a clear voice read, “I, Helen Regis, willingly and knowingly agree to participate in the special training program offered by the New Mexico Queen Ranch for a period to be determined by my successfully completing the course of training. I absolve the Ranch and all its employees from damages for any injuries or trauma I might sustain while resident on said Ranch, and participating in said training.” She recited the date and time, then laid the paper on the podium and took the pen offered by Master and signed it with her usual flourish.
More papers were laid before her. She glanced at them and signed them without reading more than a few words, anxious to get the embarrassing program over with. She... almost... said, “Let’s get on with it,” but some inner alarm bell stopped her. She focused on what she had read aloud. Much too late she realized that she had missed the fact that there was no set date for her release from the program. The phrase, “for a period to be determined,” would come back to haunt her and mock her. She wondered where Major had come from. She connected it with the check he had written, which she had cashed, but failed to see what he would do. She was in awe of both Master Allen and Master Major because they both resembled her father in the calm manner in which they dominated those around them.
She had been devastated when her father died and she came to the ranch to discover that he was keeping three young women as slaves. She was snotty nosed to them, treating them as grossly inferior, something that she considered to be normal, but from some of Bill’s angry words it was anything but normal, and now she was going to have to pay for it. She was still smarting that Bill had threatened to kill her. She wondered if she could use that to lever her way out of this mess, but she knew it would be her word against his and she was the one facing jail time if she screwed this up. She had been greedy as a child, always taking the larger portion, and she had never outgrown it. Master Allen had his work cut out for him.
Finished, she gave Bill an icy look that should have bowled him over, but he ignored her. The brother and sister didn’t speak a word as he got in his car and drove out the gate. The women were the first to notice that she had brought no luggage, and no purse. She literally had only the clothes on her back and that situation was about to change radically.
The two Masters left the signed papers on the podium and walked toward her. The rest of the staff had been waiting for this moment. Master Allen pointed, somewhat dramatically at Helen. “Strip. Bare.”
To everyone’s amazement she was unbuttoning her dress before the second order. Seconds later her entire pile of clothing was lying on the ground. Her befuddled mind once again nearly spoke aloud, but nobody heard the “Yes, Daddy” that she cut off before it reached her vocal cords. She thought, she was sure, she had said it aloud. She realized she was losing touch with reality when she found herself squeezing violently to keep her bladder from flooding down her thighs.
She jumped when a willow switch slashed her naked hip. She turned, eyes terrified, to see the three slaves (martha, christeen and dahlia) standing, waiting for an opening to slash her again. She heard a footstep and turned to see a very angry Master Major bearing down on her, with a matching switch in his hand.
He demanded, “Would you like to treat these slaves like dirt again?”
Her growing fear caused her to stutter. “N N No, p p p pll ease.”
The switch in his hand bent completely around her waist, as he hit her with the full force of his arm. “No, what?”
Helen was certain she was losing control of her bladder. “NNNo, Sir.”
The slash was in the exact same track, with equal force. Helen squalled. “No, what?” he demanded.
“About time,” he growled. He pointed to the three slaves. “You address them 'if you have permission to talk' as Mistress.”
Through the mind fog that enveloped her she understood she was being taught something important, so she clung to it, knowing she had no permission to answer, even to acknowledge the order.
Slave petra arrived with a double handful of restraints. In a matter of minutes their prisoner was gagged and sporting an ugly 10-pound steel collar, with matching overlarge wrist, waist and ankle restraints. Petra looked over at slave martha and joked, “You ought to make her walk out to the gate and back in this rig.”
Slave martha smiled. “Maybe Master will drag her behind the horse like he did with you, petra.” Helen looked up, horrified, visualizing being dragged on the ground from the highway. Martha was not about to disabuse her of the idea, enjoying the fear in her eyes.
Helen could stand it no longer. She was deathly afraid of asking, but her bladder was not to be denied. She whimpered, and pointed frantically toward her lower belly.
“Do you have to piss?”
Helen nodded violently in answer to Major’s question.
“Well, why in hell didn’t you say so? Gawdamn women, always having to 'pee.’ Go ahead, squat.”
She didn’t believe him. Civilized people used toilets, in private. She got a good look at his face and believed him. She squatted, splashing in the road like a water hose, with every eye on her. As Major described it later to Master Allen, “So help me, she got done and looked all around for toilet paper.”
Three of the four slaves had their hands in the loop of helen’s leash. Slave petra led the way, backing down the stairs in the dungeon to catch helen if she tripped over her hobble chain. They got her to the bottom of the stairs before the action started. The slaves never did figure out what, if anything triggered it but helen suddenly made a roundhouse swing, knocking dahlia to the floor. The other three struggled to contain her as she screamed and fought.
Major was right behind them and grabbed a stun prod off the wall and jammed it in helen’s ribs and held the button down for long seconds. She stiffened and collapsed in a limp heap.
“Put her in the first cell.”
Slave petra swore and announced, “I’ll fix that bitch.” She returned with a black wooden cube and walked into the cell.
She opened the box down the center and showed it to Master Major. He grinned and nodded, commenting, “She’d better not dislike tight places.”
The cube had come from George’s ranch so it was fitting that it be used on helen. The box was full of stiff black foam. On the two open sides there were matching shallow depressions in the shape of a human head. A tube was fixed so that it would extend into the mouth of any hapless victim that was encased in it. Martha removed the woman’s gag. They laid helen’s head on one half, inserting the tube well into her mouth and then closed the other half, requiring most of petra’s weight to latch it closed.
Slave petra was left behind to guard her when she recovered from the zapping she had received. She was curious as to how helen would react to the cube.
She didn’t have long to wait. When helen recovered consciousness she automatically pulled her hand up to her face, now covered by the wooden box. Instantly, with a clash of chains she raised the other hand, both hands frantically searching for a latch, a catch or some way of escaping from the compressed foam. Most of the noise was cancelled by the foam, but with her ear close to the tube petra could hear constant screaming. She tapped the intercom. “Master, she’s got a severe case of claustrophobia. Shall I let her loose?”
The speaker crackled. “Take off the cube.”
Slave petra opened the cell, unlocked the cube and put it out of sight, after locking the cell again. Helen had apparently fainted, so it was several minutes before she came to. She looked with bleary eyes at the slave. Remarkably, she got up on her knees, bowed before petra and said, softly, “Thank you Mistress.”
The slave looked at her hard and shook her head. She was having trouble keeping up with the wild swings of this personality. Helen continued to kneel.
At last, petra made a statement. “You are claustrophobic?
“May I speak, Mistress?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“I am severely claustrophobic. Even this cell,” she looked around her, “I would be suffering an attack if the bars were not open. I don’t know what you put on my head that felt like a wooden box, but it scared me shitless. As long as you have that to threaten me, I’ll be as tame as a kitten and I will do anything you ask. I would cut my throat before I’d go willingly into that box again.” She shuddered violently, rattling her chains. “You have no idea what it feels like to wake up... that... tight... tiny.” Her body went rigid as a tiny blip of an orgasm escaped her control.
The two Masters had turned on the monitor and microphone and watched an listened as petra talked to helen. At her admission, Major looked at Allen and grinned, “There’s more to that slut than meets the eye. I think we need to talk to her.” Allen nodded and smiled, as they headed for the dungeon.
Normally Master Allen conducted interrogations in the dungeon with the subject strapped to a rolling metal table, a convenient method of moving her close to the various torture instruments. This time his plan of action was different. Slave petra moved to one side, awaiting any orders from the two Masters. Major pulled up a chair and sat down facing the kneeling prisoner. Allen in turn walked over and drew the cube from its hiding place and placed it directly in front of helen. He sat, with it between his spread legs. Helen focused on it, unable to tear her eyes from it. Even concentrating she couldn’t fail to notice the bulge in Master’s crotch, just behind and above the box.
He coughed, lightly. Then he looked intently at Helen.