Fresh Meat

Angie sat on the edge of her bed, looking out of the window and wondering what her family and Freya might be doing at that moment. It was a Thursday afternoon. By her reckoning, she had been missing for nearly two weeks. It felt like longer, given her confinement. She imagined that Freya was sitting in a French lesson next to an empty seat and that her Mum was picking up Nate from daycare and having to divert his signed questions about Angie’s whereabouts.

Drizzle slid down the window as if to match the subdued nature of Angie’s thoughts. She didn’t feel like she was doing enough to get home, but the previous evening’s encounter with Victoria seemed like a partial success. It all depended on whether her captor respected their agreement. Angie noted that Victoria's track record on keeping her word was pretty good. She also didn’t seem to lie, preferring instead to omit the truth, if that was any better.

Behind her, the lock clicked. Angie glanced at the clock; it wasn’t near dinner time. In fact, Mary had not long retrieved the crockery from lunch. She turned in trepidation.

Victoria stood at the threshold, almost unrecognisable. Her face was made up in dark tones, and her hair pulled back giving her a sinister, severe look. She wore a white blouse open enough to see the top curve of her bosom, and her torso was clad in a pinstripe corset, accentuating her figure wonderfully. She wore leather trousers and towered atop a set of spike heels with an open toe.

Angie’s breath quickened. Were she not the woman’s prisoner, she might be tempted to prostrate herself in worship. As it was, she couldn’t help but stand to watch, her attention rapt as The Woman, certainly worthy of capital letters, clicked into the room, miraculously balancing in her extreme footwear. She carried a black leather bundle, which she deposited on the bed.

“Strip.” There was no doubt in Angie’s mind that it was an order; the look on Victoria’s eyes and her tone said as much. Unsure whether pain or pleasure awaited, hesitation might only cause one to become the other; Angie's clothes were quickly in a pool at her feet. A demanding finger tipped in a dangerous shade of red curled, beckoning the girl to the other side of the bed.

Angie hurried to obey. She trembled out of anticipation rather than cold and had to use one of the full-length bed posts for support.

“Hold your arms out in front,” Victoria demanded, still giving no hint of what was to follow. Feeling her heart pound in her chest, Angie didn’t even think to quibble but obediently raised her arms. Victoria lifted the largest leather bundle and threaded Angie’s arms into the sleeves. A leather harness comprising a collar and sturdy straps passing between and under Angie’s breasts secured the looser leather sleeves and shoulders into a single garment. As Victoria moved behind and started buckling the straps at the back, Angie realised that her sleeves had straps of their own sewn into the ends, and there were no cuffs; they were just closed.

Angie flushed as she realised that Victoria was securing her in a straight jacket, one which left her breasts and midriff exposed, but a straight jacket all the same. Still unsure about her captor’s intentions but willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, she didn’t resist as Victoria drew her arms around and secured them in a self-embrace. A single strap at the front wrapped around Angie’s crossed forearms prevented her from raising them and curtailed any hope of escape.

Victoria reached for a smaller strap-festooned bundle. This appeared to be a gag or muzzle. Without being asked, Angie parted her lips and allowed the ball to slip between her teeth as Victoria covered her lower face with a wide patch of leather that neatly folded under her chin. It was fortunate that Angie had gotten into the habit of styling her hair into twin braids as they were sympathetic to the straps which now surrounded her head, effectively silencing her and forcing her to bite down on the ball.

Angie’s senses were alight, hyper-aware of everything Victoria did. The older woman clipped a leash to the big ring at the front of Angie’s collar and tugged her in the direction she wanted her to go. Instead of going towards the door, she pulled her bound charge towards the bathroom and, inside that, the shower. She picked up the douche hose and waved it in front of Angie’s muzzled lips, causing her eyes to go wide.

What followed was tortuous and humiliating for Angie, although she assumed that was all intended. Victoria wrapped the leash around a sturdy hook mounted high on the wall, no doubt deliberately fitted for just such a purpose. Careful about the temperature and flow rate, Victoria used the narrow pipe attachment to squirt some water into Angie’s rear. She then forced her captive to hold it before laboriously untying the leash and leading her over to the toilet to expel.

This torment was repeated half a dozen times, each with a little more water held for a little longer. By the last round, Angie was hopping from foot to foot and moaning and whining into her gag. She felt both empty and vastly relieved when Victoria finally dried her off with a fluffy towel and tugged the leash to move her on.

Back in the bedroom, Victoria stopped, looped the leash around a bed post and investigated the ‘kink’ cupboard. She bound Angie’s ankles with cuffs linked by a short chain, hobbling her and preventing any attempt for her to make a run for it. Then she pulled out the little clips with bells. Angie looked at them with curiosity but then with fear as Victoria approached one of her sensitive nipples with the jaws held open.

Angie shook her head and made muffled pleading sounds, but her merciless tormentor allowed the clip to close over its target slowly. She wailed at the initial pain, but it soon reduced to a constant awareness that her nipple had been clamped. With that knowledge, the clamp on the second nipple was harder to take, but she did.

Victoria released the leash and drew Angie to see herself in the mirror. Victoria’s reflection was wearing a look of intense satisfaction as she gently tickled the girl's breasts, causing her to shudder and the little bells to ring. Though her concentration was impaired by the clamps constantly making her aware of their presence, Angie realised that Victoria had turned her into a sex object, a toy for her own gratification. The sight was simultaneously arousing and troubling. Angie was quite aware that Victoria had already lured her into captivity with sex and wondered what her aim was in this show of dominance and eroticism. Did she want something more from her?

Angie’s paranoid musings were swept aside as Victoria led her from the room on the end of the leash. She took her time tugging the hobbled girl towards the playroom. Angie was mortified being led around in public, as it were, exposed and subjugated. She caught a glimpse of Mary folding sheets in a walk-in cupboard. As their eyes met, both had the same reaction: eyes opened wide, faces scarlet with embarrassment. Neither made a sound, and soon enough, Victoria had tugged her around the corner like a donkey at the end of a rope.

---

Janik nodded respectfully to his employer at the top of the steps down to her subterranean playroom. Although Victoria was almost as inscrutable as he, the big man had learned to read her moods and reactions and could tell that she was extremely satisfied and flushed with fading sexual satisfaction.

Having heeded Victoria’s call on the intercom to escort their newest captive back to her suite, Janik was eager to find out whether he could use the situation to his own advantage. Of course, he kept all of that buried deep and hidden from his face. He forced himself to descend the steps into the basement at a casual pace.

He entered and closed the doors behind him silently; the hinges were well-greased. Victoria often ordered him to clean up her subterranean playpen after her sexual escapades with her pets, but Janik didn’t mind that because it had fringe benefits. He looked around the debris of her carnal excess: a discarded leather bolero straight jacket, a harness with an attached prosthetic penis, some plastic beads on a string and a butt plug, all still glistening with either bodily fluids or lubricant, probably a mixture of both.

In the centre was Victoria’s favourite piece of furniture, the whipping bench, and securely strapped to it, the new girl, panting and covered in a sheen of her own perspiration. Janik couldn’t believe his luck. Victoria had delivered the girl to him on a silver platter, she was even still muzzled.

Janik cursed silently to himself that he hadn’t bought any protection. The girl was probably clean, but getting her accidentally pregnant might be inconvenient. Luckily, he could see that Victoria had been using her other hole. Being new, the girl should still be tight back there, he realised. His pulse quickened as he imagined what it would feel like to be inside her velvet interior, the girl's muscles gripping his cock in an attempt to repel him.

The girl must have been dozing in some post-coital haze because she didn’t notice Janik’s approach or realise his presence until he slapped her hard on an already flushed and lined buttock. She gave a muffled cry and looked around, an action made more awkward by her near-complete bondage. Her eyes widened in shock and surprise at his sudden appearance.

Janik couldn’t keep a smile of anticipation from his lips. He stroked the trembling girl’s skin, seeing the familiar fear in her eyes, the fear all Victoria’s pets showed when he came for them. “You’re just as much mine as hers.” His voice had deepened as his arousal began to build. The girl started to shake her head urgently; muted begging came from behind the muzzle.

“See, she’s left you all ready for me,” he added, still in his native tongue. He slowly unzipped his trousers, knowing that the girl could hear the ominous sound and imagine what would happen next. She turned away and began making as much noise as she could, with her mouth filled and covered as it was, perhaps in an attempt to call Victoria back. Little did she know about how soundproof the room was so that just such a racket couldn’t be heard from outside.

As Janik moved behind the girl, her body writhed and convulsed against the leather straps in a fruitless attempt to escape him. He placed his manhood, hard and gently pulsing with his heartbeat, against the struggling girl's greased rear entrance. As he heard the sobbing begin, that was his cue to take her. He entered her without warning or permission. The girl cried out, but he was deaf to her babbling clamour.

He would make her his.

---

Mary precariously balanced the dinner tray as she let herself into Angie’s suite. The occupant was nowhere to be seen, which was strange given it was dinner time, and Angie knew that. Mary set the tray down and looked around. A discarded leather item lay on the floor near the door. It had straps and buckles and an integral ball. She wondered if it was the muzzle Angie had been wearing when they had seen each other earlier that afternoon.

Although Mary had previously had her suspicions about what Victoria had been using the girl for, it wasn’t real until she saw it with her own eyes, and what an eyeful Angie had been! She shook her head at the memory. Poor girl.

The shower was running, but otherwise, there were no sounds of activity coming from the bathroom, not even a change in the sound of the water as if someone were moving under it. A feeling of foreboding filled Mary. Tentatively, not wanting to violate Angie’s privacy more than seeing her half-naked already had, she approached the bathroom.

“Angie, your dinner’s ready,” Mary called. There was no response. She entered to find the place filled with steam. “You wouldn’t want it to get cold, would you?” Her voice betrayed her nervousness. She tried to wave steam out of the way with her hand but to no avail. Eventually she found the wet room. The shower was running full blast, but no one was standing in it.

Finally, Mary spotted the girl, naked and huddled, sitting clutching her knees under the powerful jets, looking off into the distance despite being pelted by the jets. “Angie!” Mary called, but there was no response from the girl. It was like she was catatonic. The startled maid reached in and turned the water off, but the girl continued to stare at nothing.

Panicked, Mary knelt in front of the girl. She was breathing; her skin was red and strangely marked with regular lines. A discarded nail brush lay to one side. Joining the dots, Mary realised that Angie had been obsessively scrubbing her skin before she had reached her state of stupor. “Oh, what’s happened, girl?” She asked, half to herself.

Mary grabbed one of the big bath towels the bathroom was stocked with and used it to half wrap, and half lift the soaking girl. Angie wasn’t completely limp but was very shaky on her feet. Unable to prevent her uniform from getting wet, Mary half carried the girl back into the main room and sat her on the bed.

“Can you hear me, Angie? What’s happened?” Angie continued to stare in a way that was beginning to really scare her. Mary set about drying the naked girl. Her hair was still in the duel braids that she liked to wear, but they were in complete disarray. Mary took them out before trying to dry and brush the girl’s hair.

With Angie as dry as she was going to be, Mary found one of the terry cloth robes and wrapped the girl in it. She moved her face close and cupped the staring girl’s cheek gently. “Did Mrs McCarthy do this to you?”

It was as if a switch had been flicked. Angie suddenly came to life and jerked as if she had just realised there was a face right in front of her own, but not to whom it belonged. She recoiled in fear, her breath coming out in gasps until she realised it was Mary. She looked at her, recognition finally showing on her face. “Janik,” she breathed. “It was Janik.”

With that, Angie appeared to be fighting sleep, her head nodding, eyes heavy. Mary helped her into a lying position, and she was asleep literally as soon as her damp head hit the pillow.

Mary looked down at the traumatised girl. What had that man done to her? As she thought of Janik, her imagination began to work, but she pulled back, not wanting to think about the possibilities. She hesitated, unsure what to do.

Angie seemed safe enough in bed for the moment, and Mary’s final task of the day had been to deliver her dinner. Resolute, Mary stood. She took the dinner back and found something more snack like Angie could eat when she woke. Then she changed out of her uniform, found a good book and returned to Angie’s suite to watch over her as she slept.

---

Mary ended up staying the night, first sitting in the chair, then on the bed, when Angie became more animated in her sleep. The girl tossed and turned and moaned, she even spoke, but the words were completely unintelligible.

Eventually, around 2 a.m. Angie woke violently after an intense dream. She woke so fast she was completely disorientated. Although she couldn’t remember the dream, the panic and the fear was still with her. She sat bolt up right and cried out, not realising where she was, sweating, her breath coming out in gasps, her body shaking.

Mary had been watching her become more active in the few minutes prior and had set her book aside, unsure whether the girl would subside or wake. She put her arms around the girl and held her tight.

“I got you, girl. It’s OK, Mary’s here.” She tried to sound more steady and calm than she felt. It certainly took a few seconds of Angie looking blankly at her in terror before recognition occurred and her struggles subsided. Mary continued to hold and stroke the shaking girl and eventually passed her a metal hip flask. “Here, take a sip of that.”

Mary watched as the girl tipped back a mouthful of the brandy she kept for ‘medicinal purposes’ and then her sudden realisation that her throat was burning. Her nostrils flared and her eyes opened wide, but at least it seemed to bring her back to reality. Panting heavily, Angie handed the flask back in a shaking hand.

“How do you feel?” Mary asked, setting the brandy aside.

“Battered. Shaky.” Angie managed. Her gazed turned inwards, perhaps to remember how she got there, and then her mind recoiled, and she closed her eyes and flinched.

Seeing the girl's pain, Mary held her tighter and wondered at Angie’s state of mind. Dare she push further? But in the end, she had to know. “Can you tell me what happened?” She asked eventually, as gently as she could.

Angie opened her eyes, and her thousand-yard stare briefly returned before she began to relay events.

“I managed to get Victoria to promise that she would give me at least as much pleasure as pain; I assumed she wanted to prove that to me when you saw me before.”

“Did she hurt you?” Mary asked, worried.

Angie shrugged, “Yes, but she knows how to make that feel good.” Mary was confused about how such a thing was possible but didn’t want to interrupt the girl. “We had a really intense session, I guess she had finished with me. She called on the intercom for someone to come and take me back to my room. I didn't really think about who she called, I was just so tired.” Angie started to well up as the memories became more difficult. “I was half asleep after what Victoria did to me, and then he-he-he was just right there, touching me. And-and then he-he,” Angie couldn’t go any further and burst into tears.

Mary held the distraught girl as she cried out deep wracking sobs of shame and anguish. She almost wanted to well up herself at what she assumed had been done to this girl, whom she would have considered a friend if their situation wasn’t quite so weird. What kind of friend was she if she couldn’t even help her get out of this place. Of course, one of the problems with that was that Angie wouldn’t let her help.

“He raped you?” Mary asked quietly when Angie showed some signs of subsiding. The girl could only nod and try to wipe away the tears. She then relayed details of Janik’s previous attack on her.

“You need to tell Mrs McCarthy,” Mary demanded.

“No!” Angie’s reaction was immediate.

“Why ever not, girl? She’d get rid of him in no time. What are you waiting for?”

Angie turned to her, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. “Who’s she going to tell? The police? She kidnapped me! I’m her prisoner! She called him and left me to him. What if she wanted to let him have seconds when she was done with me?”

Mary frowned. “What makes you think it’s like that?”

“Victoria left me all trussed up ready for him and he said I was just as much his as hers.”

“That doesn’t mean that’s what she had in mind,” Mary argued, trying to be the voice of reason.

“I think if he wasn’t meant to do it, he would have made some threat to make sure I didn’t tell Victoria.” Angie shook her head despondently. “I don’t want to go to her and have her tell me that she knew and that’s what she expected. I don’t think I could take that right now. She’s my lioness: strong, driven, ruthless. I’m just not sure if I’m part of her pride or fresh meat of the kill.”

Mary realised that Angie had a point. Not knowing what to do or say to make things better, she settled for hugging the shaking girl. “What are we going to do?” She asked eventually.

“We?” Angie’s voice was heated. “I’m not dragging you into this. I got myself into this mess, it’s my fault I’m here.” She seemed to reminisce for a moment. “If I hadn’t given in to temptation in the first place, I’d be home and safe.” The girl seemed about to well up again, but she held it back.

“Angie, please," Mary pleaded. "I can’t just leave you to his mercy. I couldn't live with myself.” She thought about just trying to walk away, but after only knowing the girl for a few weeks, she couldn’t do it, despite the hold Mrs McCarthy had over her.

Thankfully, Angie gave a weak smile. “Maybe you can help me think of something but I’m not having you lift a finger. If I have to stay here, I need to figure something out before I end up alone with him again.”

Relieved, Mary thought for a moment. “Well, he didn’t beat you, so no incriminating evidence, and he hasn’t done anything in this room. I wonder if it’s bugged?”

Angie raised an eyebrow. “You think he doesn’t want Victoria to find out because she’d be angry that he was playing with one of her ‘toys’? Your suggesting she cares enough to make that a problem.”

“You said yourself, she must have spent a lot of time and energy to get you. Damaging you after that would make her angry; if nothing else, it’d be a waste of her efforts.” Mary suddenly felt depressed. “Oh god, I can’t believe we're talking about you as if you’re property.”

“To Victoria, I am.” Angie conceded. Mary could see the girl was depressed and exhausted.

“Maybe what you need for thinking this out is some decent rest. I’ll stay with you the rest of the night, but can I get you some cocoa or something?”

Angie nodded, deep in thought. Perhaps something Mary had said had triggered an idea in her. She certainly hoped so. It was easy for Mary to nip down to the kitchen. Cook left the cocoa out for just such midnight needs. On her return, Angie was still sitting upright, thinking, but she accepted the hot drink politely, seeming more like her normal self.

After that, she slept with Mary sitting fully clothed on the bed next to her.

---

Angie sat cross-legged on a pillow and tried to clear her mind. Mary had not long left with the remains of the breakfast tray having been up all night watching her sleep. Angie felt a twinge of guilt at putting her out, but was nonetheless grateful at not having to face her current predicament completely alone, even if all Mary could provide was moral support.

After several weeks daily practice, meditation had become a lot easier, but memories of the previous afternoon intruded and Angie struggled to find her equilibrium. It was made worse by the realisation that Janik could arrive at any time, ostensibly to 'prepare her' for another session. Although it was hard, she managed to clear the mental space she needed and started thinking the problem through.

Angie first wondered if Janik actually didn’t want Victoria to know what he had done, but not desperately; like it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she did find out. Perhaps he doesn’t care if she told Victoria because he knew she would be annoyed, but not overly burdened by the fact, or he expected Victoria wouldn’t believe Angie's claims. That led to the troubling question of whether it would matter to Victoria, and why Janik would think that it wouldn’t.

Suddenly Angie realised that Janik must have helped Victoria groom her, every step of the way. He had been the one to deliver the food each time and he no doubt assisted in her transit to wherever she was now. That would mean he was fully aware of the aim to acquire a human plaything for Victoria, if indeed that was what she intended. Had he privately intended her to be a plaything for him too? Angie quivered at the implications.

It seemed unlikely that Victoria consciously intended to share her with Janik. After all, their relationship seemed to be very much employer and employee, why would she? That suggested Janik’s attacks were opportunistic, but given her current incarceration and the frequency of Victoria’s business trips, the number of opportunities were likely to be high unless something changed.

With her personal safety and well-being were at stake, Angie wondered how she could change the status quo. She needed Victoria to know, but if Janik expected Angie’s word to be worthless, it was likely Victoria wouldn’t believe her if she just told her.

Then Angie realised that she didn’t have to tell Victoria, merely alert her to the fact that Janik was abusing her behind her back. Could she incriminate him? She suddenly realised that, like Kelly, Janik was a bully, and what did all bullies fear? Exposure.

Perhaps from a pragmatic point of view, if she could show Victoria that Janik was damaging the plaything she had spent so much time and effort to obtain, maybe she would take steps to stop him, whether she cared for Angie on an emotional level or not.

Angie’s mind continued to whirl between possibilities as plans began to take shape.