Chapter 2
GILLIAN FERGUSON
“No,” thundered another voice I recognised. Bastard Jacob was back on top of my list. “She’s bidding with my money and I don’t authorise that bid,” he shouted to the auctioneer. There was a scuffle at the back and Jacob hurried away dragging Jilly with him. The auctioneer waited until they had left.
“Kneel,” said a voice from behind me. I knelt, keeping my arms in the air.
“Will anyone start the bidding with £50?”
Fifty quid? That auctioneer was now on the list. That’s just insulting.
Someone bid £50 and my auction was underway. My price rose to £25,000 fairly quickly but tailed off there. The auctioneer looked round. “Any more bids?” he asked.
“Thirty thousand,” announced a new bidder from the middle. I got a good look at him. Forty-ish, farmer type, flat cap. He looked confident. I didn’t like him.
“Why’re you bidding for that you burke?” This other guy was fairly close to flat cap. Another farmer type, but this one was old and wizened. Seventyish was my estimate. Small, slender and wiry. He looked like a typical hill farmer. One who works hard every day of his life and drops dead while working, with no warning whatsoever. He implied he would sell me on quickly, but I was already above his budget. Would I get a chance if he bought me? I couldn’t work it out. Things were happening so fast.
Flat cap stared at him with hate in his eyes. These two were enemies. Can I play on that? I lowered my arms and immediately received a shock, a small reminder shock, on my arse. My arms raised themselves.
“Are you really that stupid?” Flat cap said to hill farmer. Look at her details. It would be a negligible cost to add tits and arse and amend her face and that’d pay for itself many times over in a year’s time. Use that time to train her to within an inch of her life and you’re done.”
I wondered why the auctioneer was letting this argument go on. These two must be known around here. They must have money as well. Or, one of them has the money. An auctioneer wouldn’t stop an auction for anything less. At least one of these bastards was important to the auctioneer.
Hilly sneered. “Fast profits are far safer. What’ll happen if she dies? Or if she doesn’t train up? That’s possible you know. Or don’t you know that?”
“Fuck off you old git.” Flat cap turned his eyes back to the front.
What a witty rejoinder. I could do better than that. I reckoned I could work this one. Not the other one though.
“Thirty five thousand,” said Hilly before the auctioneer could restart the auction.
“Forty,” answered flat cap immediately. This was a grudge match. I’ve heard of them. It’s possible for bidders to get so wrapped up in the auction grudge they forget budgets and everything except outbidding the other. What did this mean for me? I didn’t know. It was happening too fast for me to think.
“Forty five.” An immediate response from Hilly.
“Fifty.” The auctioneer didn’t interfere. If they were going to leave him out of it while they bid themselves into a frenzy, then, so be it.
“Fifty five.”
“Sixty.” As soon as flat cap said that he seemed to shudder and realise what he had done.
“Sixty five.” Hilly smirked at flat cap, who turned puce. There was a pause.
‘Oh shite,’ I thought when the bidding stopped.
The auctioneer eventually filled it. “We have a bid of sixty five thousand,” he announced. “Are there any more bids?” He looked at flat cap who stared back but said nothing. Then he looked round the crowd.
He was just about to sell me when flat cap shouted, “Seventy thousand,” in a tone that said, no more. He looked round at Hilly, who smirked back at him as if to say, ‘I made you bid seventy thou. Now what’re you going to do?’
I started to congratulate myself. If flat cap could lose his mind so easily, then I stood a good chance of getting out of this.
AUCTIONEER
I had a problem. There was a reserve price of £75,000 on this one, but I had auctioneer’s privilege. I could sell her at £70 thou and normally I would. But Mr. Coleman looks as if he’s about to burst. I bet old Connors deliberately did that. Normally I’d sell, but Mr. Coleman is a great friend of this auction, but so is Mrs. Potts, the seller. Mr. Connor is not.
I came to a decision.
“No sale. Reserve price not reached.” Mr. Coleman looked greatly relieved and Connors looked annoyed. I’d made the right decision. I’d refund Mrs. Potts her fees as well, but privately. That should take the sting out of her anger and hopefully, she’ll continue to use us.
GILLIAN FERGUSON
That pleased the crowd all right. Those two must have been at it before. But I couldn’t work out whether or not that was in my favour. What would Modesty say? She’d say, ‘Start again from where you are now,’—that’s what she’d say. I thought all that as I was bundled out and reshackled by the goons. They gave me no chance and, believe me, I’d have taken even the smallest chance. I’d have preferred to die there and then than go on with this. But Modesty said I had to go on and find another advantage, so I tried to think positive. That was very difficult, but I did try.
Eventually, after a few hours chained to a post in what had to be a holding area, the bint Veronica took charge of me again.
She was guiding me to somewhere, presumably some sort of transport, when a voice I never wanted to hear again called out “Excuse me, Mrs. Potts.”
The bint told me to stop and we stood and waited for Jacob the cunt to approach.
“I do apologise for disturbing you Mrs. Potts, but, if you don’t mind, I’d like a word with you about your property here.” He meant me. I told you he was a cunt.
She smiled at him. “No problem at all Mr. York. What can I do for you?”
“Please correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve been told you are unhappy with the auction of your property this morning. I did hear it didn’t reach your reserve price, but it was within auctioneer’s discretion and he chose not to sell. The bid then was at seventy thousand pounds. If that’s true, can I assume your reserve was at seventy five thousand?”
Oh for fuck’s sake I wished they’d get on with it. I was very tired. I’d been up all night and the bint had had the goons add on extra chains for her protection. They were digging in and they were getting very heavy.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Well, in that case, I’d like to make you an offer of the full seventy five thousand for her.” He looked like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
‘Tell him to fuck off,’ I mentally screamed at her.
She paused, then smiled. “I have to tell you that the auctioneer refunded my auction fees. So, I’ll sell her at seventy thousand.”
He beamed. “Thank you indeed Mrs. Potts. You are very honest. Will you want to hold on to her while I have my manager pay your fee?”
‘Of course you do you stupid twat. He’s twisted. Can’t you see that?’ I may have been a little incoherent just then.
“Of course not Mr. York. You’re well known as a man of your word. Here’s my card. Please have your manager transfer my fee on Monday. There’s no need to get the poor man to work on a weekend.”
“You are most gracious Mrs Potts.” He said this as he beckoned a couple of goons over.
“Please transfer this cargo to my transport,” he instructed them. They actually touched their forelocks in their desire to follow his orders.
I didn’t like this. ‘Keep your spirits up girl,’ I told myself. ‘There’s bound to be something I can exploit. I just have to wait for it to happen. Then, I’ll kill the bastard.’
They came to see me the next afternoon. All dressed up for a Sunday’s afternoon’s convivial conversation. Jacob York and Abbey Cornish came into the stable where I was shackled inside a horse’s stall. I suppose I was honoured the fucking horse wasn’t in there with me. At least I’d been fed and watered and had a bucket for other necessary functions. The stable girls seemed to be well used to non-horses in their charge. Not one of them came anywhere near me except where absolutely necessary. They didn’t talk.
“Here she is Abbey,” said the civilized bastard. “All ready for you. Will you be able to take her today?”
“Yes. I did come prepared,” the bint answered. So that’s how it was. The bint was going to train me. Good luck with that, cunt.
Then there was the sound of a galloping horse and the dulcet tones of another voice I recognised reached our ears. My host turned around saying, “Hello Jilly. I didn’t know you were coming today.”
“Just thought I’d stop by after the gallop, don’t you know.” Her voice tailed off when she saw me. “Jacob. You bought her?”
He smiled at her. “Yes, I bought her. And at thirty thousand less than your starting bid.”
“Oh poo,” Jilly answered. “What’s thirty thou?” She said this as she approached me, whip in hand. This was going to hurt.
Jacob stopped her though. “Not now Jilly. Abbey here is going to train her for me. She’s taking her away tonight and I don’t want Abbey to have to deal with wounds from this establishment.”
I always thought the phrase ‘looking down your nose’ was just a figure of speech, but Jilly tilted her head back and literally looked down her nose at Abbey. I remembered that scene. Perhaps I could use it later.
“Oh yes?” said Jilly, with a voice straight from the haughtiness shop. “I don’t approve.”
“Well, I do and that’s that.” I was getting used to Jacob’s mannerisms and thought he was starting to sound annoyed.
‘Good,’ I thought. Maybe I can add just a little bit to the tension around here. I stared at Jilly with a smirk on my face. Jilly’s lips pursed when she saw me. Silently she turned and strode off to the main house. I, naturally, hadn’t been allowed in there.
ABBEY CORNISH
That smirk confirmed my opinion of her. She was going to be my most difficult charge, probably ever. I was determined to do the job properly and effectively.
We all returned to the drawing room and conversed about this and that for the rest of the afternoon until I left. I was glad Miss Norfolk would be out of my way. That girl had let the livestock get under her skin. She wanted to ‘punish’ Gillian whenever she saw her. That made me impressed with Gillian’s idea, and particularly her targeting. She would definitely get a chance to get away if Miss Norfolk was in charge, or even generally around. Miss Norfolk must never be left alone with Gillian.
Jilly and Gillian? I never thought of it before, but their names are so similar. Some of Gillian’s thinking must be rubbing off on me because, once I thought that, I immediately realized there could be scenarios where a mix up between the names could occur. Normally, that’s all it would be, a mix up. But with Gillian actively looking to exploit any situation, there was a possibility of a serious security breech occurring. Those thoughts reinforced my intuition that Miss Norfolk and Gillian should never be left alone together. Perhaps changing Gillian’s name to her pedigree name sooner rather than later would be useful? I made a note to bring that possibility up with Jacob on Tuesday, when he visited to see my arrangements for himself.
Chapter 3
ABBEY CORNISH
Jacob arrived on time Tuesday morning with Miss Norfolk in tow. It was a good job I had already briefed the girls about her. I wondered if I could insist on her absence while Gillian was in my charge. I decided to wing that one for now. And I certainly wouldn’t mention it if Miss Norfolk herself was present.
I bid them enter and the usual happenings with coats and scarves occurred in the hallway. On entering the house proper, I said, “Do you want to visit the stables now, or would you prefer some refreshments first?
I said that to Jacob, but Miss Norfolk answered, “Oh now please. I’m anxious to meet that little mare again.”
I smiled my professional smile and led them down to my basement stables. It was a large windowless room, the length of the house. The stalls were around the North and East walls. I was happy that all my stalls were occupied at present. It’s always good for the customer to know others were happy with my services.
JACOB YORK
I was most impressed with Abbey’s stables. My immediate impression was one of light. The concrete floor was painted while the ceiling was mirrored. The inside of each stall, as far as I could see, was also mirrored. And so was the bare walls. That was surprising, I hadn’t seen that before.
Every animal there, twelve in total, immediately stood to attention when we entered. One of them was being trained in her cunnilingus skills and she also immediately stood, leaving a trail of drool dripping off the mannequin as well as her mouth.
Her stalls were full. The two girls, presumably trainees or there for work experience, were talking softly to each other but stopped at our entrance and checked the animals for deviations. Not one of the animals was talking or even making a sound when we entered. In fact, they never made a sound the whole time we were there.
Three of the animals were on cleaning duty. Their mops clattered to the ground when they stood to attention with their eyes to the ground. Abbey ignored them, as she did all the animals. With just this entrance she showed her skills in animal conditioning. They were not there to be noticed and pampered. They were there to obey and Abbey thoroughly enforced that rule.
My impressions of the place were interrupted when Jilly started to stride forward. She did seem determined and I understood why when I saw where she was going. This was getting to be annoying.
Jilly stood at the end stall’s gate and stared at Gillian. “What are you now then, Gillian?” She spat out the name ‘Gillian’. Gillian, who, like all the rest, had stood to attention, looking at the ground, on our entry, didn’t speak. “Answer me cunt, or I’ll come in there and thrash you.” Jilly’s anger was working itself up again. Her speech reeked of triumphalism, which I objected to. I wondered how she didn’t understand my feelings after all this time. Or, perhaps, she didn’t care about them. Perhaps the fact that Gillian’s left leg was chained to the wall emboldened her. I did wonder what she would do if Gillian was free to retaliate.
I had to speak out. “Stop this Jilly,” I said. Hopefully she would recognise the tone I used. She did not.
“Oh come on. We can’t let this insubordination go on, can we? I asked a question and she didn’t answer. That’s a thrashing offense if ever I saw one. Why are you letting this trainer anywhere near your property?”
“Jilly, let me tell you what I observed when we entered. I heard the two girls chatting quietly while they worked, but I heard absolutely nothing from the animals. Not a thing. That’s not normal in my experience. And I saw all the animals stand to attention when we entered. What does that tell you Jilly? It tells me this is a competent and well run establishment. And look around you. Have you ever seen a cleaner place, or a more orderly one?”
I needed to get the focus away from Jilly, so I turned to Abbey with a question that was bothering me. “Abbey. Gillian also obeyed your rules the instant we entered. It’s just been a couple of days and I thought she would be putting up much more resistance.”
“That’s because she is, Jacob. She was inducted into my house rules yesterday and she’s chosen to obey them of her own accord. This isn’t training. This is resistance. She seems to have decided that getting shocked for no reason is not a profitable way for her to resist. And I agree with her. Now, to answer Miss Norfolk’s question,” she turned to Jilly, “one of my house rules is absolutely no talking unless spoken to. Even then, the animals have to receive the specific order ‘speak now’.”
“Oh come on,” Jilly replied with heat. “I’m not going to say that any time I want anything. That’s stupid. Tell her to change it Jacob,” she snarled.
ABBEY CORNISH
Jacob’s eyes narrowed. I was afraid Miss Norfolk was in trouble so I was surprised when Jacob addressed me. “Abbey. As a favour to me, would you please take in another acquisition? I understand you are full, but it would be a great boon to me.”
I was startled and paused before answering. “Do you mean…”
“Yes. I want you to train Jilly here as well. Can you do that for me?”
Again I paused, trying to think out all the implications. But he was one of the leaders, so… “Yes, of course. That’s no problem. Thank you for thinking of me.”
Miss Norfolk was, naturally, dumbfounded. It had taken her a while to process this turn of events, but she eventually worked it out.
GILLIAN FERGUSON
‘Oh shite,’ I thought, as I saw Jacob the cunt destroy my best chance. Then I had second thoughts, ‘Perhaps he’s just teaching her a lesson?’ I really wanted that to be true.
It wasn’t.
Jilly the bitch screamed at him and started to hit him. She proved herself to be far too stupid to breathe unaided when she dropped the crop she was holding in order to hit him with her fists. Try to hit him, I mean.
I saw Abbey the cunt speak to Steph the cunt but I didn’t hear anything, she must have mouthed the words. Steph the cunt ran to fetch Abbey the cunt one of those electric whips. It took seconds. Meanwhile Jacob the cunt was slowly backing away from his assailant. It was clear he was the one in control as Jilly the cunt was too far out of it to think clearly. She never got near him.
Then Jilly the cunt screamed and collapsed.
I enjoyed seeing that.
Everything calmed down for a second or two, during which time Abbey the cunt ordered Steph the cunt and Clara the cunt to set up the emergency stall. The girls ran off to obey, taking the long way round in order to stay well away from their new charge.
By now the new charge, who was still a cunt, had recovered somewhat and was screaming again, this time at Abbey the cunt, who flicked the whip at her again. It must have been on a reduced setting this time because Jilly the cunt just jumped and shook a bit. I tried to work out how she was adjusting the setting, but I couldn’t. Abbey the cunt’s expression didn’t change. It kept the professional, focused, no nonsense demeanour it had when concentrating.
“Take your clothes off,” she demanded.
“Fuck off bitch,” was the reply. She was shocked again. She jumped and screamed. Another shock came, another jump, then another shock. Jilly the cunt was totally outclassed but couldn’t believe it.
“Take your clothes off,” was repeated at her with every shock. Jilly the cunt turned and ran to the door while Abbey the cunt walked after her.
The door was locked.
Jilly the cunt turned and charged Abbey the cunt who was, naturally, expecting that. Jilly the cunt received a higher shock before she had managed two paces and fell to the ground screaming. The ‘Take your clothes off’ refrain started again now. Jilly the cunt couldn’t deal with it and, sobbing, retreated backwards on her bum. She couldn’t go far and eventually was trapped in a corner.
The shocks and the order kept on coming until, eventually, she started to remove her clothes. But that wasn’t good enough. Another shock came, this time with a different order. “Faster.” That new order was repeated and reinforced with, what seemed to me to be greater and greater shocks (I was frustrated that I couldn’t work out how she was adjusting the shock strength) until Jilly the cunt was naked, curled up on the floor, trying to cover herself with her arms.
Another shock hit her. It was a heavy one that jerked her out of the foetal position and caused her to bang her head against the wall. “And the jewellery.” Jilly the cunt immediately stripped herself of her bangles and rings. Expensive stuff too, if I’m any judge—of Jilly, not the jewellery. I can’t tell fake from real—of jewellery, not the Jilly. She received another shock. “And the earrings,” she was told. They came off immediately and were hurled onto the concrete floor.
Another shock hit her with a new order. “Up,” said Abbey the cunt. This order had to be repeated and reinforced with each repetition a number of times before it got through to Jilly the cunt. I started to feel sorry for her, but that didn’t last long. I mustn’t start thinking like that. She’s a cunt and she always will be one. The pathetic bint had cost me my way out. She may now be further down my list, but she wasn’t off it.
Once Jilly the cunt was standing, Abbey the cunt directed her back to the far wall by orders and shocks. Jilly the cunt had no chance and she was quickly herded into the back of the emergency stall, which the girls had quickly erected. It was a close thing but they managed it. Those girls were competent and worked as a team. I remembered that. If I got out here I’d have to kill them quickly.
“Put the cuff on your left ankle,” was the new order to Jilly the cunt. Now Abbey the cunt simply shocked Jilly the cunt with each repetition of the order until obedience happened. There was never any doubt. If they were normal whips, getting yourself marked and scarred for life would maybe be worth it. But not with these things. They must somehow activate the nerves directly.
She stood, cuffed to the wall, staring as Abbey the cunt held out her hand and cunt Clara placed a collar in it. She tossed the collar to Jilly the cunt, who ignored it. “Pick it up and put it on,” was the next order.
“Fuck off.”
She was shocked and the shock and order routine was repeated until compliance was achieved.
I didn’t bother telling her they could only be unlocked by a switch she couldn’t reach. Let her find that one out for herself.
Then Abbey the cunt closed the stall door and returned to Jacob the cunt. The door wasn’t locked. There was no need.
“Impressive,” said Jacob the cunt when the job was done. I especially appreciated the way your girls did their jobs without hesitation. You run a good ship here.”
Abbey the cunt smiled her appreciation, but Jilly the cunt’s screams and demands restarted before she could speak. Jacob the cunt said, “How long will it take before you have Jilly trained to silence like the others?”
Abbey the cunt smiled. “No time at all. Watch this.” She walked back to the stall and pressed a button on the outside wall. Immediately there was a scream from Jilly the cunt as she was shocked by the collar. I could have told her all about those collars, but there were two reasons I didn’t.
Abbey the cunt turned to Jacob the cunt saying, “It’s sound activated. Any animal here will be shocked if she speaks, or makes a sound. It’s very sensitive as well. That keeps them quiet so we can get on with our work.”
“Well,” she continued, “Shall we have those refreshments now? It’s their bedtime anyway and I don’t want to disturb their routine.”
“Just one thing though,” she added.
Speaking to the girls she said, “Set up the breeding bench now, so we can start immediately in the morning, then lock up for the night” The girls nodded and quickly set it up.
“Is that what I think it is?” queried Jacob.
She smiled. “Oh yes,” was the reply.
While the girls went about their tasks, Jacob the cunt asked, “I see you don’t use shackles. But have some sort of cuffs instead. Is there any particular reason why?”
“Yes there is. The traditional shackle works, but it’s too basic for my requirements. It’s heavy and has sharp edges. They cause far too many small injuries to the animals. That happened to Gillian, although, in her case, I don’t know if it she was deliberately trying to scar herself in order to frustrate me, or her new owner. That doesn’t matter now. We’ve attended to Gillian’s wounds, they weren’t serious because we got to them in time. I’ve used the cuffs you saw for a while now. They’re very secure, but are soft and flexible and will not cause any damage to an animal. I insist that any damage to an animal is deliberate, to an acceptable programme agreed between myself and the owner.
They both watched the two girls quickly and efficiently set up the breeding bench then tidy up for the night. Equipment was put away and each woman in her stall was adjusted for the night. We all had to attach our collars to the chain in the wall behind us and those chains were adjusted automatically. Some women, the favourites, got to lie down, naked, on the concrete floor while others, me, for instance, had the neck chain shortened (automatically from the stall’s control panel) so there was some play but not enough to lie down, or even kneel. I was glad to see Jilly the cunt also couldn’t lie down for the night. Our buckets were slid to the back wall, within reach, even for those of us with restricted reach.
They left after the girls.
The doors closed with the sort of high security finality that echoed around the room. Obviously, they were designed to be psychologically impressive to the inmates, but, that didn’t mean they were secure at all. My problem was I couldn’t work out how to get out of the chain attached to my collar. I had watched the girls closely, and, even they had to use the control panel on the outside of the stall instead of the app they normally used. My chain, even at it’s furthest reach, wasn’t long enough for me to reach my control panel.
I was prepared for lights out now, so, when we were plunged into darkness, I wasn’t taken by surprise. Jilly the cunt was, and uttered a sound, something like a groan, followed by a scream as the shocker circuitry responded. That shut the bitch up.
There was no stray light around for our eyes to latch onto after a period of dark adjustment. This was an underground room complete with blackout doors. We were unable to see until Abbey the cunt blinded us painfully when the lights were switched on again the next morning. Those of us who were chained standing were at an advantage in the morning. We didn’t have to scramble to stand to attention while the sudden, painful light shafted its way through our eyeballs.
In the dark, I reached for where I remembered my bucket was, found it and did my business. We were punished if we did that during working hours, so I had held mine in. There was no paper for cleaning afterwards as we were all hosed down first thing in the morning.
I was about to start my exercises when I had an idea. It just appeared in my head from nowhere. I took it as a sign my subconscious was working on my—our—problem and, without thinking, I implemented it at once. I picked up my bucket and sloshed the contents around to free the solids from sticking to the plastic and mix them up a bit with the urine. Holding the bucket the best way I could and using my memory for target acquisition, I swung it upwards and the contents went on their merry way, hopefully over the wall between us. I nearly laughed aloud when a squawk from Jilly the cunt next door told me my aim was good. The squawk was followed by a scream when the shock tickled her poor upper-class-cunt-body. That had to do for then, as I had nothing else to get the bitch with.
The software allowed for a verbal reaction from the shock, but Jilly the cunt was back on the rampage and couldn’t stop. She screamed abuse at me and received the appropriate shocks and she screamed again. Then the abuse at me returned, and the whole cycle repeated a few times, until she finally got the message. I couldn’t be certain, but I thought I heard her bucket skitter across the floor during the time she was thrashing around. I hoped I was right, because I was also a sitting, sorry, a standing duck.
I got on with my exercises then with the happy knowledge that Jilly would have to clean out her stall in the morning so it was gleaming.