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Julia In Captivity - Book 1 (Victor Bruno)

Julia In Captivity - Book 1 by Victor Bruno

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Julia and co suffering slavegirl Melissa have been crated up and shipped to Quentin Osman’s isolated Scottish home where they come under the terrible reign of Quentin, his vindictive sadistic wife Glenda, his man-servant Havers and the housekeeper Rosalie. They are all very happy to have two beautiful, nubile, submissive slavegirls to play with! Julia is given the birch by Glenda Osman for her ‘infidelities’ whilst she was Quentin’s mistress, while Melissa is busy servicing Havers and Quentin in the most degrading way possible! Humiliation is heaped on the hapless pair, culminating in a ‘High Society’ game when they get to wear clothes for the first time in months and are made to act out a parody of their former lives, taking tea, playing Bridge - and paying the forfeit for losing to their hosts!

There seems no end to the suffering of the poor girls, or to the imagination of those who hold them in servitude!

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 3 / 2019

No. words: 36800

Style: Fem Dom - F/F, Male Dom - M/F, Sex Slavery / Training

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle

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As with all things connected with Madame Vesta’s organisation, the transportation of Julia and Melissa from the yacht ‘S. S. Paradise’ to Quentin Osman’s Scottish retreat, Cragness, went smoothly.
The two young women, under sedation and safely crated, were flown first to the Malaysian Peninsula and then, by stages, westwards. Finally they arrived in Eire. From there it was a simple matter to have the crate, and the one containing equipment accompanying it, taken across the border to Northern Ireland. As the beginning of the long journey had been, the final stage of the journey was by private helicopter.
The machine touched down in the gathering dusk of a late Autumn evening in the grounds of Cragness. It was met by Quentin’s new Major Domo, Havers, who arranged for the two crates to be taken on fork-lift trucks into the vast, gloomy-looking, stone-built Manor house. There they would await the arrival of the Master, and the new Mistress, of Cragness ... Quentin and Glenda Osman.

Havers, a man of around forty summers, made in the hard-faced American mould, had been busy for some months at Cragness preparing for the arrival of this rather special ‘cargo’.
He knew what it was, of course, having been fully briefed by Quentin Osman. Havers could be fully trusted to keep his mouth shut, and do exactly as he was told, for Quentin had enough evidence about his earlier crimes to ensure he got a term of imprisonment for life. If not the Chair.
For his part, Havers certainly had no intention of doing anything else but going along with Quentin’s plans. He very much liked the sound of them. To be the gaoler of two ripe young beauties (with some perks promised) was a job many a man would have given a small fortune for. And, by the look of some of the equipment Havers had already had orders to install, those two beauties were in for a pretty tough time. So much the better. Havers had frequently fantasised about having kidnapped some girl ... and then having fun. A girl like Miss Blandish. Well, now it was all happening. For real. He was part of it. So naturally, although he was aware of the hold Quentin Osman had over him, he was most grateful to the man.
This, he reckoned, would be a job he would be in no hurry at all to leave. Nor would Rosalie, who was his equivalent on the distaff side. She was an attractive looking woman of around thirty who had been engaged to act as a kind of lady’s maid-cum-housekeeper for Glenda Osman. And, for a variety of reasons, Glenda’s hold over Rosalie was just as strong as that of Quentin’s over Havers.
The two members of the ‘staff’ at Cragness had got on well from the moment they had been introduced and both were equally pleased by the future prospects which Quentin had outlined, to them. To both of them, it seemed that their luck was in at last.
During the preparatory period, when the two had been alone at the manor-house, Havers had made a pass at Rosalie. This was natural for she was both shapely and sexy looking. However, Rosalie simply explained that she played the game the other way.
“How else do you think I got involved with Glenda Osman?” she asked. “She’s as butch as they make them. “
Havers had understood at once and accepted the fact. He would have to wait a little longer yet. Then, when Quentin gave the word, he would be able to enjoy some of his ‘perks’.

The two of them, Havers and Rosalie, stood looking at the two huge packing cases which had been set down in the high-ceilinged hall.
“It’s incredible to think there are two women in there,” said Havers. He licked pale lips. Though it was quite cool, there was a little sheen of sweat on the brow of Havers’ bullet head. He was beginning to get very excited.
“Isn’t it, though,” smiled Rosalie, standing hands on hips. “Amazing they’re still alive really. Must have been travelling for ages.”
“Marvellous things, modern drugs,” propounded Havers. “The boss told me he’s got several other quite miraculous ones. To keep the girls going ... when, by the laws of Nature, they should have dropped out long before.”
“Can’t be very pleasant for them,” said Rosalie wrinkling her brow. “Imagine it. Not being able to pass out even when someone’s doing something really frightful to you.”
“Yes ... imagine that,” smiled Havers, licking his lips again. It was obvious he liked the idea of a girl not being able to faint. Rosalie’s Spanish-dark eyes were glinting too.
“I wonder what they look like,” mused the woman.
“A couple of crackers, by all accounts,” said Havers. “But we’ll soon know. Had a wire from the boss an hour or so ago.”
“They’re both arriving here tomorrow.”
“Good ... good ...” smiled Rosalie. “And that means I’d better start getting a few things ready.”
“Me too,” nodded Havers.
With a final, lingering look at the two crates, the couple left the echoing hall.


Julia and Melissa, both naked, knelt side by side in the submissive slave posture which had become second nature to them. Each girl had her back ramrod straight, her hands clasped on top of her head, her thighs parted. Two pairs of lustrous eyes flickered nervously from side to side - Julia’s a deep blue-green, Melissa’s dark brown - as they began to take in their new surroundings. As if they had just woken from an ordinary sleep, those eyes filled with dawning dread as they gazed upon the familiar figure of their owner, Quentin Osman.
“Welcome to Cragness,” smiled Quentin. He was a fat, oily man of middle age, with close-cropped hair and typically rugged American features. “I won’t ask you if you had a pleasant journey here, for I am aware you knew nothing about it.”
Alongside Quentin stood his new aide, Havers. He was a bullet-headed man with coarse, criminal features. Always inclined to perspire, his balding head was positively glistening with sweat as he gazed lasciviously at the two lovely young women who, having been removed from the packing case, had been brought miraculously to life by means of an injection. It was rather like having unpacked two walking-talking dolls, thought Havers, and then put them into motion. He also thought a lot of other things as he looked at the lush female charms so uninhibitedly displayed. Havers’ mind, in fact, positively raced. It was almost impossible to grasp that these girls were actually slaves. Who could be ordered about, punished, made to do what you wanted. At least, Quentin could do all that. Havers ran his tongue over his pale lips - a nervous habit - and ran his sweaty palms down the side of his trousers. Well, the boss had promised him some ‘perks’, hadn’t he? Now he was wondering, already, how long he would have to wait. And which one would he have first? Either would do admirably! My God ... yes ... they certainly would! Havers gazed at the gently quivering breasts (a little nervous trembling, no doubt!) and saw the smooth, depilated Mounds of Venus with their proffered sex lips.
“I think the first thing for you to do is take a shower and pretty up,” said Quentin, rubbing his hands. “You’ll find a couple through there.” He pointed to one of the four doors which led off the room - an ordinary-looking, comfortably furnished drawing room. “So, run along, girls! And incidentally, I’ll think you’ll find your new quarters a considerable improvement to those on board the ‘Paradise’.”
Julia and Melissa rose immediately and followed each other from the room. Havers’ eyes fastened on the bouncing flesh of two seductively swinging bottoms, saw the flash of long white thighs in motion. Then the two had disappeared through the door.
“What do you think of ’em, Havers?” enquired Quentin with a grin.
His aide seemed to have some difficulty in answering at first. He nodded his head enthusiastically. “G-Great ...” he said hoarsely. “Real classy dames, Quentin. You certainly can pick them, Quentin.”
Yes, thought Havers, ‘classy’ was the word for those two. The sort of women who had always previously been out of his reach. Society women, moneyed, confidently arrogant. He could never afford such women. They looked at him as he was dirt ... and he had had to be content with scrubbers and low-class tarts. The sort of women who didn’t mind when a man was not only a criminal but looked like one.
“I guess that’s true,” said Quentin smugly. “And now, Havers, I’ll just repeat what I’ve said several times before. Repeat it for the last time. Get out of line - just once - and you’re finished ...”
Havers was nodding his head with vigorous understanding.
“... there’ll be no second chances. But play it right and you can have a good time ...”
More vigorous nodding from Havers!
“... while I and my wife are here, you have to ask permission to have either of them. Permission may or may not be granted. Nor will you administer any punishment without a direct order. Apart from the odd slap or two, or course ...”
Havers licked his lips. Those two bottoms were made for slapping!
“When I am not in residence,” continued Quentin, “You and Rosalie will have free run of either of the women. You will find them most co-operative, I’m sure, but you will let me know if they are not. As to any punishments in my absence, they will be administered at your discretion but will be restricted. No more than twenty-four strokes of paddle or strap in a twenty-four hour period, or twelve with the cane. Got it?”
“Sure, boss!” Havers felt almost sick with excitement. It was incredible that he was going to be permitted to thrash such lovely creatures and ... and ... then ... have them do whatever he wanted! Havers heard the pounding of the blood in his head. My God, life was going to be a real bowl of cherries!
“The same rules apply to Rosalie, of course,” said Quentin. “She knows that, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, boss ... I’ve made sure of that.” Havers was fawning, almost cringing, in his tone. He would have gone to any lengths for a man who was offering him so much. Quentin, needless to say, was aware of that. Havers was a most useful tool - rather than an ally and would enable Quentin and Glenda to come and go from Cragness as and when they wished. The freedom of Julia and Melissa might be restricted, but there was no reason why that of their owners should be!
“Well, that’s it then,” said Quentin’ “Any questions?”
“Will they ... be staying down here all the time?” asked Havers. He was referring to the spacious cellar quarters of Cragness which had been specially converted to accommodate Julia and Melissa.
“Yes. To begin with, anyway,” replied Quentin. “Later we may have them upstairs from time to time. For kitchen duties. Or to act as maids. Or maybe for other things. It will help Rosalie and you out. And there’s no risk of them getting away. Even if they dare try.”
“Don’t you think they’ll even try then?”
Quentin shook his head. “No,” he said flatly. He seemed very sure and Havers wondered why. “By the way, Havers,” added Quentin, “I must congratulate you on doing a first class job down here. Everything seems to be to my specification. It only remains to install the equipment that Madame Vesta let me bring with me. The contents of the other packing case.”
“Some of the things in that are rather special, aren’t they?”
“You’re right. Very special. The healing lamps and ointments particularly. Puts them back in trim - and fit for more - in no time. Couldn’t really do without such aids. Without them, one good hiding would put them out of action for a good week or more. As it is, they can be thrashed every day, if need be.”
“It’s amazing,” murmured Havers. “I shan’t believe it until I see it.” It must, he reflected, have been exceedingly unpleasant for those young ladies to heal so quickly ... so that they were ready to suffer all over again!
At that moment, the door opened and Julia and Melissa came back into the room. With softly bouncing breasts they resumed their former posture ... and Havers notice immediately an improvement in their appearance. Their hair had been brushed and combed ... make-up had removed the ravages of travel ... smooth female flesh was powdered and exotically scented.
Quentin strolled across and, almost casually it seemed, fondled one of Julia’s breasts.
“Better than aboard the ‘Paradise’, eh, Julia?” he enquired.
“Y-Yes, Master,” answered the girl at once.
“You agree, Melissa?” asked Quentin, going over and also fondling her breasts. Havers noted that neither girl recoiled in the slightest; indeed they seemed to thrust out their breasts even more provocatively to receive their owner’s touch.
“Yes, Master,” replied Melissa equally promptly.
Quentin nodded. “Well let me tell you both something at the outset. If either of you ever Makes the slightest attempt to escape from here ... even an attempt, you understand ... both of you will be sent back to the Paradise for an indefinite period. And, believe me, I shall have some very special instructions for Madame Vesta!”
The look of terror which crossed over those lovely features shocked Havers. What Quentin had threatened was obviously quite unbearable to think about. He saw now why the man was so convinced that neither girl would so much as try and get away from Cragness. That ‘Paradise’ must have been something else, thought Havers. Otherwise, could such women be made so slavishly submissive? And in such mortal dread of ever returning?
“Have I made myself quite clear?” asked Quentin.
“Yes, Master,” they answered in unison.
“Here are one or two other things I must point out to you,” went on Quentin in a suavely confident way. He was indeed very much the ‘Master’ now that he was in his own domain. “Your living quarters and general conditions are far more comfortable than those on the ‘Paradise.’ You will actually sleep on beds - even if without covering - rather than on planks. Nor will there be any collar and chain to keep you there. Indeed, you may sleep on the same bed if you prefer it that way. Also, you are free to roam where you will within these quarters.” Quentin paused and smiled. “You see what a kind owner, I am?” he asked ... but did not wait for a reply. “There is one point though. A closed-circuit television system has been installed. Look around the various rooms and you will find a great number of miniature cameras in position. Also, there are microphones everywhere. As a result, every sound and movement you make can be seen on the TV screens in the house above. Your mistress ... or I ... can look in upon you whenever we so desire. Either in reality or by simply turning a knob. In a way, I suppose, it will rather be like being goldfish in a bowl.”
The expressions on the two faces remained blank. Both Julia and Melissa had become expert at controlling their features whatever kind of news they were receiving.
“Now I’ll show you round ...” Quentin signed to them ... and Julia and Melissa rose to their feet. They followed meekly after their Master, whilst Havers brought up the rear. His eyes were glued to Melissa’s lush bottom. He was simply aching to get his hands on that succulent flesh!
“This is your bedroom,” announced Quentin, like any courteous host showing guests round.
The room, decorated in pink and white, was simply but comfortably furnished with two silk-sheeted beds, dressing tables, chairs, stools and the like. There seemed everything a woman could want to beautify herself. There were even wardrobes. Quentin opened one. It was filled with clothes ... at which the two girls gazed in wonder. It was literally months since either had had the slightest vestige of covering on her body!
“Not to be worn unless you are given direct orders,” said Quentin with a smile. “Understood?” He closed the door.
“Yes, Master,” came the meek answer in unison.
What must it feel like, wondered Havers, to be a woman who could not clothe herself unless so ordered to do.
Quentin walked across the room and opened another door.
“This is what I have called the Playroom,” he said. “You can, perhaps, guess the sort of thing it will be used for.”
The two girls looked ... and guessed correctly!
There was a large, circular bed in the centre. Strewn about were colourful bolsters and piles of cushions. Also, two water beds. Apart from these, there were easy chairs, stools and tables. Not to mention a huge cocktail cabinet. The walls were draped with heavy curtains and Quentin pulled a cord on one wall and the curtain slid back to reveal a full-length mirror. The ceiling, too, was one whole mirror.
“It’s fun to see yourself ... as others see you,” said Quentin pontifically. “At least, I think so ...”
The little party moved on. It is in this room that I shall enjoy these two beauties, thought Havers hotly. It still seemed scarcely possible that it could be true. He felt rather like a child who had been given a bag of sweets and was happy - but equally terrified that someone would take them away from him.
The door led them back into the living room and Quentin walked across to the door on the far side.
“I don’t think you will enjoy looking at this room quite so much,” he said with a smirk. “It has been designed for naughty young ladies ...”
Havers saw, and sensed, the tension in the two naked figures directly ahead of him. Not surprising, in view of what they could see!
In the centre of the room were two leather-covered blocks. Curving blocks. Punishment blocks! At the head of each was a pillory device in which a victim’s neck and wrists could be placed. One was labelled ‘Julia’, the other ‘Melissa’.
Quentin made a little gesture, spreading his hands.
“Do try them out,” he said. He made it sound like a suggestion, but both girls were aware that it was an order. At once, both moved forward, each to her named block, knelt at its end, placing her belly on the curving hump, and neck and wrists into the wooden half circles which awaited them. And now Quentin picked up two small boxes which looked rather like pocket-computers.
“I always thought Madam Vesta’s devices, though effective, were rather crude,” he said. “Here we have modernised them. Thanks to my ingenuity ... and the skill of my aide here.” Quentin smiled at Havers, then pressed one of numerous buttons on the control boxes. The upper parts of each pillory came sliding down, effectively pinioning the neck and wrists of both girls.
“You can take a look at yourselves,” said Quentin, pressing another button.
Curtains over the wall in front of the blocks drew back. Two faces, two pairs of despairing eyes, gazed out. The humiliation upon humiliation was building up again. Though they had left the ‘Paradise,’ though their surroundings were quite different, nothing had really changed.
Both were suddenly and hideously aware of it.
“From their rear, too,” smiled Quentin, pressing more buttons. Curtains at the opposite end of the room drew back to reveal another mirror. This, cleverly angled, gave the girls a back view of themselves reflected in the front mirror.
Havers’ heart was thumping; he felt rather dizzy. Could this all be really happening? This was where those girls were actually going to get punished. Strapped! Caned! On those lovely, curving buttock cheeks! Incredible!
Havers could not take his eyes of the soft, white flesh so invitingly presented.
“Additional bonds are available,” he heard Quentin saying.
More buttons were pushed and, instantly, a number of broad bands of thin, flexible steel came out of the sides of the blocks. One went over the waist of each girl, pinioning her down tight. Then two more went round the lower part of each thigh ... pulling the knees about two feet apart as it did so ... and clamping them securely to the end of the block.
Both girls were even more immodestly displayed.
“And,” said Quentin, “if we wish, we can tighten up ...”
Flick ... flick ... went the buttons.
The hump at the end of each block rose slightly and the knees of each girl were pulled forward ... thus tautening the flesh over the nates and pulling wide the cleft between those nates.
Havers mouth was slack; he was almost dribbling and he was showing the whites of his eyes.
“A most suitable posture for punishment,” said Quentin, giving his aide a wink. “Or for ... well whatever you fancy, really!”
Havers gulped. He was getting hotter and hotter and his whole body felt wet with sweat. Would he ever get used to such things? Like Quentin seemed to be? The man was taking it all so calmly. As if it was the most natural thing in the world to treat two lovely young woman in such a degradingly indecent way.
Quentin began pressing buttons in reverse order and gradually the bonds fell away. The pillory was the last to be raised and then the curtains were closed again.
“Up you get, girls,” ordered Quentin almost jovially.
Obediently, together, they rose from off the black leather surfaces a look of relief in their eyes. Both were aware that, if he had been in the mood, there was no reason on earth why Quentin could not have thrashed them then and there!
Back once more in the central drawing room, Julia and Melissa knelt submissively. Both girls were still a little bemused after a long spell under sedation but were gradually beginning to take in their new situation. At least they were off the dreaded ‘Paradise’. That was something. Even if they were owned by, and were at the mercy of, a brutish pig of a man.
No More Madame Vesta ...
No more Miss Judith ...
No more Ahmed; no more Jason ...
Their relief at escaping those monsters was intense. Yet, of course, Quentin remained. As did his wife Glenda. As yet a virtually unknown quantity. Surely she could not match Madame Vesta for cruelty!
No ... no ...
Then there was the aide of Quentin. Another pig by the look of him. Sweating and balding. Lusting. It made them sick to think of what they were going to have to do to please him.
Yet ... yet ... they were off the ‘Paradise’!
“Havers, have you got that parcel? The one Miss Judith gave me just before I left?”
“Yes, Boss.”
It said, ‘not to be opened on voyage’. Well, the voyage is over now. Let’s have it.”
Havers came forward with a square parcel wrapped up in brown paper and Quentin looked at the two kneeling figures.
“It’s a present to you both, from Miss Judith,” he said. “Isn’t that kind of her?”

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