Mare's Tales
by: Beverly Taff

Chapter 31

 

The lesbian sect laid their trap carefully as they studied my friends and me. Patience was the name of their game.

My 'to-ing and fro-ing' gradually attracted their notice and they eventually made the connection between my travels and the appearance of the sperm donations worldwide. It was during one of my trips to America that they pounced.

Fortunately I had already delivered the sperm so they failed in that aspect of their mission but they had inadvertently achieved their main aim without realising it.

I was returning along a remote road in the hills of Wyoming back to Vancouver, B.C. After delivering my precious package to Denver, Colorado. Suddenly I was forced off the road by two powerful four-by-fours. As I struggled out of my car to remonstrate with the crazy fools, I had an inkling of what was afoot. A woman appeared at the top of the ditch that I had been forced into. It was obviously no ordinary accident because she was armed.

My mind raced ahead as I realised their intent and I made some attempt at hiding my purse with my money. Whilst pretending to try and hide my money I managed to hide my zapper up my cunny until a better place could be found. As my attackers approached I feigned dizziness and fumbled with my papers and handbag. I mumbled that I only had credit cards but to my surprise they showed no interest in money. They cuffed me and rummaged through my papers.

Two of the girls, (for they were all girls), held me against a pick-up whilst the others searched and rummaged through my papers. They found my clumsily hidden purse in the dash and smirked at my apparent naiveté as they collected all my possessions. Fortunately I never carried any evidence or documentation about the sperm so they had no way of connecting me directly to the source. All they had was my identity, my credit cards, papers for the hire-car and my luggage.

I was then dragged away from the scene as the pick-up winch was used to drag my car back onto the road. As I watched, two girls, who appeared to be the bosses, talked earnestly as they glanced at me occasionally. They then stalked over.

"Where’s your buddy?" The taller one demanded.

"I'm alone. Isn’t that obvious."

"She’s right." Yelled a voice from down in the ditch. "There's no evidence of anybody else. We've tailed her for the last ten miles."

The tall one cursed and bundled me violently towards the pick-up. She was only the leader of the ambush team and she had assumed her target was a man. The unexpected appearance of a woman was a bit of a letdown. She had obviously been anticipating the thrill of a fight. As I struggled awkwardly into the pickup, she aimed a kick at my stomach and I screamed as I dropped to the ground.

"Stop that now!" Ordered the smaller of the two boss girls. "She's no bloody good to us injured."

"Well she's obviously not the bloody one is she?" Cursed the tall one.

"No." Agreed the smaller one. "She's the bait for the trap. She also knows who the source is and how to get to him."

I realised now what was afoot. When they had forced me off the road they had been searching for a man. The woman at the top of the ditch had only been keeping cursory eye on me as her companions searched for the expected fleeing man. That is why I had gained enough time to slip my zapper deep up my cunny. I only hoped that the kick in my stomach had not damaged or dislodged it. As I sat holding my burning belly I tried to study my attackers.

They were fully equipped for a military operation with black overalls and lots of commando style equipment and guns. I, on the other hand, was dressed in my knee length pencil skirt, heels, tights and body blouse. My jacket was still in the car. There was absolutely no hope of my escaping for I was in no condition to go running through the hills of Wyoming One of the other girls helped me into the pick-up. The others clambered in whilst one got my own hire-car going again to follow us to the nearest town.

My kidnappers studied me briefly. They realised that they had caught something to do with the sperm business but they had no idea what a prize they really had. I decided to play dumb.

"So what the hell are you and what have you to do with the sperm thing?" Demanded the tall leader menacingly.

"What the hell d'you think I am?" I spat back.

Another girl back-swiped me with her gun butt and blood spurted from my teeth.

"The smaller leader cursed again and slapped her colleague across the face."

"Fuck it Margo. I've told you all once. She's no bloody good to us dead! Clean up the bloody mess."

My blouse was splattered with my blood and I cried as my tormentor reluctantly forced a tissue into my bleeding mouth

"Shurr-up bitch!" She cursed again.

The small leader reached into her combat jacket and produced a field dressing.

"Use this stupid. I'll need to question her. She'll be no bloody good with a smashed fuckin’ jaw. She's valuable cargo and we've got to get her back to base."

The brutish dyke who had hit me snarled and applied the field dressing over the tissue. The violence however, had stopped and for that I was grateful. My comfort was not to last for they blindfolded me and set off

The girls openly discussed my appearance and made crude jokes about what they would like to do to me in bed. I shuddered nervously and shifted my bruised bum as the pick-up turned off the road and bounced along a dirt track.

"Well if this is what we're looking for, I'll go and fuck my self." Screeched one of the girls as she squeezed my breast and traced her finger along the inside of my thigh.

"Our's not to reason why. We're just ordered to get her to the airfield and deliver her intact." Snapped the tall leader.

The small leader interrupted their coarse laughter and forced her hands between my soft thighs.

"C'mon kid. Don’t be shy. We're all girls together."

I struggled desperately to keep my thighs closed but the two dykes simply undid the zip of my skirt and forced my legs apart.

 

I was now hopelessly vulnerable and terrified of their reactions when they discovered my sex. They unpopped my body blouse and shucked the tails up around my waist as I squealed and squirmed helplessly with my hands still cuffed behind my back. They then dragged the tails of my body blouse over my shoulders and re-popped then together again over my shoulder. I was now doubly helpless with my arms trapped; my hands still cuffed and my lower body almost naked except for my tights and pants. I was totally at the mercy of the dykes.

With a practised skill the tall leader forced her finger into the gusset of my tights and ripped them from crotch to waistband. I let out another scream of fright and the brutish dyke snarled,

"For Chris’ sakes someone, gag her before I drive this bloody car off the road. She's like a blasted banshee."

One of my escorts produced a roll of tape and plastered the field dressing against my mouth. My piteous squeals were immediately muffled and I wriggled helplessly as the tall one investigated my panties. I drummed my feet uselessly on the floor and wriggled my hips violently but it was to no avail. I was now firmly trussed like a helpless chicken as the leaders set about removing my panties.

The stuck something sharp into the cheek of my bum and I lurched up off the seat with surprise. My muffled squeak of pain was drowned by the raucous laughter as the leaders whipped off my torn tights and panties with practised ease. I desperately tried to squeeze my thighs tight together but my escorts simply sniggered and yanked my tender thighs apart. A puzzled frown spread across the smaller leaders face as she peered into my crotch.

"Hello! What the hell have we got here? It's not a normal pussy; look."

The taller one followed her gaze and roughly poked at my cunny lips.

My cock was tucked tight up inside my pussy, but it still presented a peculiar bulge where it folded back. It resembled an overlarge clitty and the two leaders bored in for a closer look.

"Jee’ze! Look at the size of that clitty."

The smaller one chuckled and poked it. She let out a gasp as my cock slipped out slightly to present a grotesquely enlarged clitty or something altogether different.

"Fuck!" She cursed as she poked my cock a little harder.

I squirmed helplessly as I felt my whole cock slowly sliding out of my cunny. It flopped down onto the cold leather seat and I squeaked with fright and terror as the two of them stared at it, stunned. They looked up into my terror stricken eyes and chuckled.

"Well wad-ya-know. A trannie. Jee’ze! She’s a good one though, just look at those hips and thighs." Gasped the taller one.

My two escorts yanked my thighs further apart as they joined the leaders in peering at my crotch. A greedy sigh escaped their lips as they moved their hands further around my thighs to get a more telling purchase. I gave another muffled squeal as the two leaders exchanged glances.

"She's a convincing one though. Lots of women would give their eye teeth for tits and a body like that." Exclaimed the smaller one as she squeezed my breasts.

"Are these real as well?" She demanded

 

I stared mesmerised with fear and nodded stiffly as her knowing fingers pinched my nipples through the flimsy material of my blouse.

"You bet she’s convincing!" Gloated the taller one "Christ! Even I could fancy her and I hate cocks."

I squirmed uncomfortably then squealed as the two guards casually gripped my cock. Fortunately, my zapper was still buried deep inside my -as yet undiscovered pussy. It was still switched off so my cock would not respond to their caresses.

It lay limply in their hands simply refusing to get hard. This perplexed them a bit and the smaller leader scolded them.

"That's not the bloody way to get it hard. Here I'll show you. Caress her balls."

She reached under my cock and groped eagerly for my scrotum. She gave a puzzled grunt as her hands failed to find the expected velvety wrinkled bag.

"Lift her up a minute. There's something fucking wrong here."

I was roughly levered up as my guards shoved their knees under my bum and my thighs were parted and raised up. I squirmed some more as her inquisitive fingers finally found the damp sensitive lips of my cunny. She gasped slightly as her fingers froze then they stiffened a bit before probing gently up into the soft wet recess. Once she had established exactly what was under my crotch she suddenly withdrew her fingers and instructed my guards to put my pants on again.

She ripped the sticking plaster off my face and stared into my tear stained eyes. My panties wouldn’t stretch over the lump and I shifted uncomfortably as the lacy scalloping cut into my cock where it protruded ludely from the panty leg. I tried to cross my legs and cover up my insulted organ but that simply made the elasticated lace cut deeper.

The smaller leader frowned and she studied me curiously.

"What in the hell sort of bitch are you?"

"Never mind what the hell I am." I cursed. "What in the hell gives you the right to kidnap me?"

"Oh rest assured buddy, we’ve got our reasons. What I want to know is who and what the hell are you and why you’re so bloody important to our organisation?"

"Fuck off!" I swore angrily.

She slapped my swollen mouth and I grunted with pain. I felt I had an edge though. It was the first certain intimation that my kidnappers had no real idea who I was or how valuable I was. To them I had simply been a target - a contract job-. I shuddered as I envisioned what was in store for me but I was determined not to be cowed by these bloody criminals.

"Put my clothes back on." I demanded.

"Oh don't worry buddy. You're quite safe with us. We're all girls together but fuck knows what you are. Once we hand you over to Debbie and her cohorts, our job is done."

With these words, the four by four rounded a bend and arrived at a large field. A white plane was parked under some trees and several people were stood under its wings. It was a small transport plane and the truck raced directly up to it.

 

 

 

My kidnappers hurriedly dressed me before letting me out of the truck. They had simply tucked my cock into my panties and I bulged obscenely under my torn pencil skirt. I felt very self-conscious as I was hustled towards the plane.

As I studied my kidnappers I noticed that everyone was female and I began to get an inkling of what was afoot. Still handcuffed, I was helped up into the plane and forced to sit in a single seat as my protagonists settled down around me. As the engines howled, I studied my tormentors again and finally got my first clear indications of their intentions.

The cabin was divided into different sections and we were in rear one. As the plane took off it lurched and the door in the dividing partition opened. I spied a woman sitting in some executive style seats with a child beside her. I immediately recognised Debbie, my old lover from Las Vegas and I realised the pretty little girl was her - and my- daughter. Neither of them noticed me at first for they were facing away from me, but as the door continued banging annoyingly the woman twisted in her seat and pressed a button on her seat. She finally recognised me and frowned. My appearance had reminded her of all the hassle after conceiving her child. She pressed some other buttons and the next moment I was lifted rudely from my seat and thrown through the door to land awkwardly on my butt at her feet.

I twisted to remonstrate but the door was already closing behind me and I found myself alone with Debbie and her daughter. I turned to face her again and my eyes fell on to her daughter. It was the first time I had got a good look and I was astonished at her similarity to me. Debbie stared at me sullenly and shrugged her shoulders wearily as she nodded towards her daughter and spoke.

"Yes. She's yours. It's pretty obvious isn’t it? Uncanny even"

I peered around, glad to find the cabin empty but for the three of us. A shiver ran up my spine as I recognised the frightening resemblance to me. Debbie was right; uncanny was the only word to describe it. Even my daughter had now stopped playing with her doll and was studying my face. The resemblance was so striking that even a child of her tender years had noticed it. I bit my lip nervously.

"Who else knows?" I asked.

"Oh don’t worry lover!" Snapped Debbie bitterly. "Your bloody secret's still fairly safe. None of those who captured you have seen the child so they won't have made the connection and nobody back at the centre has seen you. For the time being, you’re safe."

"Can I pick her up?"

"If you want."

"You'll have to free my hands."

She motioned to me to stand up and turn around then she freed the catch. I rubbed my wrists gratefully. It was no use trying to escape. We were in an aeroplane with guards all around me. Resignedly I plopped down on a chair to face her. The child crawled up onto my knee and continued studying my face. It was obvious she was intrigued by our uncanny resemblance.

"What's her name?" I asked.

"Trixie. It's a reminder of the bloody cruel trick you pulled on me. You could at least have let me know you were her father."

 

"How?" I shrugged hopelessly. "You were surrounded by all the bloody intelligence and security forces that Uncle Sam could muster."

"Not for the last year I haven't."

"Well it's not been all that easy for me." I snapped sarcastically. "I've been like a bloody hunted animal on the run. Just imagine what would happen if I was discovered?"

"I don't have to IMAGINE what it would be like." She snarled. "I've been living that bloody nightmare since Trixie was conceived. I've had every part of my body and life examined and dissected like a bloody laboratory specimen. Before you finally started this fucking sperm donor thing I was virtually a prisoner of the F.B.I. And C.I.A. They were convinced I was holding something back."

"O.K! O.K!" I conceded. "I'm sorry for the hassle and everything but at least the heat's been taken off you now. Anyway, how did you make the connection to me?"

"Oh, a very slow process." She answered in a flat brittle voice. "Bit's of the jigsaw kept falling into place. The final clue was her incredible similarity to you. It takes a mother to spot theses little things." She finished sarcastically.

"So how long have you known for certain?" I persisted.

"A few months now. I pretended there was some connection between me and your friends so the organisation would have something to go on but only I know for sure."

"Well there are a few others." I added softly.

She ignored me as she continued angrily.

"What I still don't know is how the hell you managed it. You haven’t got any balls and you never came inside me properly I know that for bloody sure. That thing of yours doesn’t work properly I know that cos it never came properly. But it is you. I know it is. Isn’t it?"

I mumbled an affirmative.

"How the fuck did you manage it?" She cursed. "Christ! I never even dreamt it was you until Trixie began to grow up. I must have been blind and bloody stupid.

If I’d only trusted my dates and periods I would have realised it was bloody you. Damn you! Beverly. How did you bloody manage it?"

I sat holding Trixie on my lap as she touched my face with her soft pink paws

"You shouldn’t swear in front of her." I admonished her.

"Never bloody mind that." Debbie persisted. "Tell me how the hell you did it."

I shrugged. It was useless to deny that I was Tricia’s father. I just didn’t know how far to go. I decided to play for time and profess ignorance.

"I don't know Debbie Somehow or other some of my blood or something must have gotten inside you. My cock was as sore as hell after all that business and it was bleeding slightly. Maybe some of my blood got into you, I don't know."

"This gets more and more bloody ridiculous." Scoffed Debbie.

"Well I don't bloody know, do I?"

"D'you expect me to believe that? I’m not bloody stupid you know, it’ll go badly for you when we get back."

 

"Back where?" I demanded.
"You'll see. We'll get it out of you then."

A malicious little smile flickered across her lips and I shuddered with fear. I had no way of knowing what organisation she belonged to. For the moment I would have to try and brazen it out. Debbie studied my fixed expression and closed mouth then shrugged philosophically.

"Very well then. I'll leave it to them."

"Who are 'them'?" I demanded angrily.

"You'll find out."

I decided to try another tack. There might still be some chance of getting Debbie on my side, after all; we had been 'lovers' once, albeit with me in very subservient position. The banshee drone of the engines broke the silence as they encroached upon my thoughts. I debated my options. They were few and meagre and I glared at Debbie sullenly. She held all the trump cards and she knew it. There was little option but to try and get her on my side.

"Listen Debs, will you protect me if I come clean?"

Debbie smirked. "Frightened are you?"

"Oh bugger you then!" I cursed.

A brief shadow crossed her face. I couldn’t decide whether it was fear or anger but I had no doubt that she was not in complete control of the circumstances. A brief ray of hope filtered through the dark clouds of my desperate fear. Perhaps there was a chance of escape or damage limitation. I had to determine what Debbie’s problem was'.

I resumed staring sullenly at the floor as I stroked Trixie's hair. The leaden silence settled again and Debbie shifted in her chair. There was something going on but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. The oppressive silence seemed to grow and I eventually tired of nursing my daughter. She was growing heavy on my lap and I gently set her down with a kiss to her forehead.

She clambered up onto her mothers lap and curled up to fall asleep. The sight of Debbie and Trixie, like Madonna and child looked for the entire world like something that Michelangelo might have hewn from Carrara marble. As I lay back and enjoyed the sight the alarm bells started to tinkle in my brain.

'Of course you stupid bitch', I thought to myself 'it's a bloody trap. Someone's using them to find out about me'.

I stared angrily at the bait and cursed myself silently again.

'If Debbie and Trixie were 'bait', then how much danger where they themselves in?' I decided to do a bit more probing.

"Who’s in charge of your organisation?" I asked softly.

"I am." She snapped defensively.

"Oh come on Debbie." I argued patiently. "You wouldn’t be so secretive about Trixie and me being seen together if you were the queen bee."

Debbie studied me glumly before replying.

"More like the queen ant."

 

I realised she was about to open up so I kept my counsel and let the silence reign. The plane had reached its correct altitude and the engines had settled to a dull monotonous harmony. It invaded my brain like some primordial grub as I sat trying to concentrate. I knew it was doing the same to Debbie. A frown crossed her forehead as she tried to gather her thoughts and she shook her head slowly. Finally she stared nervously at me and wagged her head.

"I used to be the queen bee and my every wish was attended to, but since all those others became pregnant I’ve become more like a queen ant."

"I don't follow you."

"You know, soldier ants controlling the colony and all that. I'm simply the egg machine now and even that's lost its value to them."

My recollections of the differences between bees and ants finally made sense of her words. In a beehive, the queen was the egg machine and guiding force. When a hive swarmed, the queen bee decided on which new site to colonise after searches by workers prior to the swarm. With ants it appeared differently.

If ants marched the large soldier ants dictated where the column was going and how the queen was to be protected. There was a distinct difference in the relationships that both queens had with their subjects. Debbie was by no means in control and in fact was virtually worthless to the sect now. Her only use was in someway trapping the source of the sperm. If she failed in this there was little else she would be good for. She could be in considerable danger for she knew too much.

I had little knowledge about the sect and no way of knowing how they treated their members. I did know however, that fallen leaders rarely lasted long after their descent. From Debbie's glum demeanour I realised that she knew this was true for her. This gave me hope. If I could give Debbie some hope of achieving success then I might be able to get her on my side. I decided to risk it.

"Your losing it aren’t you?" I asked softly.

"What d'you mean?" She demanded.

"If you don’t get something from me, or a lever on the sperm, you'll lose status won’t you?"

"It's not going to happen though. Is it?" She snapped. "Your source of sperm will simply abandon you won't he?"

"Not necessarily." I cautioned. "I still have some control in that department."

"What?" She scoffed. "He’s your lover or something."

"If he was, I’d be pregnant wouldn’t I?"

"Well what's your pull with the sperm donor?"

"Before I say anymore, I want a promise that you'll stick by me if things get bad."

Debbie studied me silently as she bit her lip.

"What d'you mean? 'If things get bad'. "

"Well with this sect of yours. If they start treating me badly."

"If I say so, they won’t harm you."

"That's not enough. I want your sworn promise and guarantee."

 

 

"I can't give it." She sobbed. "Without some progress on the sperm thing, they won’t count me for anything."

I sucked my cheeks as I debated my chances. If Debbie had some sperm to give the sect then she would be the almighty queen again. If she had nothing then my chances of survival and rescue were completely unquantifiable. God alone knew what would happen to me. The former option was more attractive to me. I might even adopt the status of ‘drone’ and achieve some status. With status would come the prospect of escape? Then I remembered the fate of the ‘drones’ at the end of the season. They were thrown out of the hive to freeze to death in the cold autumnal nights. Nevertheless I had no other options. The final decider was that by enlightening Debbie, it gave me time to escape or contact my friends. I took a deep silent breath.

"Well Debs, I suppose you're going to find out eventually so now is as good a time as any."

She stopped weeping and looked at me questioningly.

"Go on."

"Well your first misapprehension is that I don't have balls."

"What d'you mean?"

"Just that! I do have balls; and they work. I do make semen; and that works as well."

"What!" She gasped. "You mean you’re a ma- No you can't be. You had those kids; what are their names, you know- there were four of them."

"Yes." I pressed on. "I've had four kids and I've also fathered kids. Thousands by now with the sperm thing."

"But that's not possible. You- you- you’d have to have both sets of things."

"I do."

"Oh come on. Don't bullshit. Did you think I was born yesterday?"

I was beginning to lose my patience with Debbie.

"Listen Stupid!" I snapped. "How the fuck did I get you pregnant and why the hell does Trixie look like my spitting image."

Debbie sat silent for a few seconds as the slow dawning spread through her brain. I carried on because I was in too much of a hurry to find out other things.

"I make semen in my balls which are deep up inside me. I don't make as much as a normal man but what I do make is bloody dangerous stuff. Especially now-a-days."

Debbie's face lit up.

"Go on. This gets more interesting."

"Will you promise now to protect me from any bloody lunatics in the sect."

"Yes." She replied without really concentrating. "But I'll need some sperm."

"Well the semen ejaculates from my urethra and that exits at the base of my cock, just inside the top of my cunny. Look’ I’ll show you. Is there somewhere private?"

"Here’s private enough isn’t it?"

"Not in front of Trixie. Have some respect for the kid. Where's the john."

I used the American word and she pointed to the relevant door.

 

"Right, wait here for a moment then you can come in."

"No tricks mind." She cautioned. "The guards can be here in a trice."

I entered the loo and carefully undressed my torn clothing. My zapper was still firmly lodged deep in my cunny and I gently drew it down. In the privacy of the loo I swiftly programmed an erection followed by a delayed orgasm. After re-inserting the zapper I then put my head round the door and invited Debbie to join me.

A slow smile of intrigue spread across her face and she joined me in the secret privacy of the loo. I squatted on the loo seat with my knees up and my legs apart as I instructed her to carefully watch the tiny opening underneath my cock. Slowly, I massaged it to its massive proportions. It reared past my belly button and started twitching eagerly as I continued rubbing it.

I continued the masquerade for her benefit but it was actually the microchip and the zapper doing the work. Nevertheless I still enjoyed a splendid orgasm and gave a soft moan as my sperm ejaculated from my urethra against my labia lips.

Debbie let out a gasp of astonishment as she carefully fingered the sticky fluid. I

Gave her a little jar from my handbag and she lovingly scraped the fluid off her finger into the jar. She looked up and smiled as she giggled.

"Why Beverly Hart! You two timing, two sided, two sexed little whore! So you really can swing both ways in every sense of the word."

"You betcha! Kid." I chuckled.

I was still sitting on the lavatory seat with my knees up around my tits as she knelt facing my pussy and gently probed my curious sexual equipment.

"-Not only swing both ways Deb’s but I can make myself and other girls pregnant-." I added.

She stared up at me shaking her head in wonderment then she resumed investigating my sex. After a few more silent moments she looked up suddenly.

"I want another baby!"

"What! Here; and now?"

"No. I can wait until we get back to base. Put your clothes on."

She left the lavatory and I got dressed again. It was a fortunate interlude for it enabled me to re-set my zapper to ‘dormant’ mode then re-insert it into my cunny. I then tucked my limpid cock up into my cunny and slipped my panties over the tiny bulge that was my 'mons'. I then fished some pins from my bag and pinned my skirt together. When I re-emerged from the loo I looked for the entire world like the demure lady I had trained myself to become.

Trixie was where we’d left her, asleep on her seat. Debbie was affectionately fingering and twirling the little bottle of precious sperm in her hands. I sat down facing her and smiled.

"You'd better not drop that." I said.

Her hands tightened around the bottle then she smirked as she placed it in her bra.

"That's not the best place for it. You should keep it as cold as possible, liquid nitrogen is the best method."

"I'll use it tonight. There won't be any delay."

 

"Are you in your fertile cycle?" I queried.

"Damn it! I’m not. We can sort all that out later."

"Well that sperm won’t survive more than a few days unless you freeze it in liquid nitrogen."

"That’s not the problem just now. I can always get some again. You'd better stay here a moment and dump this stuff down the can. I’ve got a few words to say to the kidnap team. Go and wait in there."

She handed me back the jar of sperm and motioned to another door. I found a bedroom and another loo so I swiftly dumped the sample. Then I lay on the bed whilst I heard muffled voices and the occasional shout. There were a few sharp remarks and I realised that Debbie was arguing with the kidnapping team. I tried listening at the door and caught occasional snatches of conversation between the unsynchronised drones of the engines.

My suspicions had been right. It appeared that she was more of a 'queen ant’ than a high priestess or queen bee. The kidnap team were more like temple guards or soldier ants and not worker bees or temple acolytes. Their arguments became more subdued and I realised that Debbie was gaining the whip hand. Her voice was becoming more domineering and she was calling the shots. She was gradually reasserting herself as the queen bee. This would make me the drone.

The biological analogy made me shudder. Drones suffered a pretty cruel fate by human standards. They either died during the nuptial flight when their genitalia were ripped from their abdomens or they starved to death outside the hive in winter. I crept away and pondered Debbie’s tactics.

I double checked my zapper and ensured that the 'tracer signal' was working. I had a distinct feeling I was going to need it. Never was I more thankful for Margaret’s special surgery all those long years ago. It enabled my zapper to be lodged a full six to twelve inches up my cunny and nothing short of a full vaginal inspection would discover it. I could even swallow up to six inches of normal cock without the zapper being located. With a comforting wriggle of my hips I settled on the bed and waited.

Eventually the muffled talking stopped and Debbie put her head around the door. The plane was approaching its destination and she ordered me to resume my seat. I sat beside the still sleepy Trixie and helped her with her belt. Debbie sat opposite me and secured herself as she studied me again.

"Now to get back to the facts. I want you to describe in detail what you are. I'm not going to tell anybody. Your secret is my trump card but it's going to be a devil of hand to play."

I briefly described my bilateral hermaphrodism and the genetic complications associated with it. I did not however describe the genetic mutations that would turn all my ‘male’ offspring into bilateral hermaphrodites like myself on reaching puberty. This time bomb was still a few years away and there was no reason for Debbie’s cult to know about it. I hoped to be free and clear long before then.

Debbie’s attention started to wander. She was not scientifically minded and I decided not to bore her. I wondered if the scientific members of the cult would accept the plan my friends and I had mapped out. Femi-men might appeal to a lesbian cult. I decided to hold fire though. This cult seemed a little too fanatical and it was impossible to predict the responses. I mused that they would probably be more interested in power through control of the sperm.

 

 

 

 

For my survival, it was going to more important that I manage to escape or that I manage to warn Margaret and Miss Lane to take extra steps to protect my children, particularly Bernadette and probably Nicholas. I was not sure if the cult knew about Bernadette. After all, Debbie had not known that she was with me when the comet appeared so there was no link with a possible second source of sperm. Additionally Debbie did not know that Bernadette was a virtual replication of my self.

She was not a clone but she certainly had an identical sexual arrangement to me. All this knowledge was to be to my advantage in the cat and mouse game that was to follow. It was to be pretty dangerous game.

The biggest problem was that my sperm had to be modified after ejaculation by the addition of genetically engineered viruses. This could prove a problem if Debbie demanded to be made pregnant before I could escape. If this sect got hold of any of my untreated sperm then they could produce male men. It was crucial therefore that the cult did not get any sperm samples during my imprisonment.

I resolved that if I escaped from them, the first thing I would do was develop an inoculation to change my sperm genetically before I produced it. This had been the avenue of research we had been investigating in anticipation of just such a scenario as this. To this end, my zapper was now doubly important as a tracer and blocker of any more orgasms.

I also realised that Debbie was quite naive about all this. Once the scientific members of the cult learned about my sperm then Debbie's value would be nil. There would be a short violent power struggle and Debbie would be easily ousted by the more ruthless members of the sect, probably one of the powers already behind the throne. I knew this was the first place to look. I did not mention any of this to Debbie and I concentrated on entertaining Trixie as the plane landed.

It was dark when we landed and obviously a remote landing field. There were no city lights so the field was probably a small private affair; probably owned by the cult. My suspicions were proved correct. Debbie left the plane with Trixie and I was left to be re-cuffed and then led away. After a brief car ride we arrived at a large campus style place and I was locked in a sort of cell - cum - bedroom.

It was furnished lavishly and provided all the modern comforts but any possible means of escape was blocked. I explored my cell for any sign of surveillance and eventually found several suspicious objects. A small alarm clock was one obvious hidden camera and a tiny stud in a divided wall mirror turned out to be another. I ignored them for the present as I carried on studying the room. I knew that this was normal behaviour and any watchers would be expecting me to do this. The real skill lay in them not realising if I had discovered their devices. For the time being, I simply let them watch me. There was no way I was going to let them find out about my zapper.

Eventually I located ten hidden cameras, each no bigger than a pencil stub. The cleverest ones were the toilet devices. One was cleverly hidden in the badge on the toilet cistern and pointing directly at my butt when I peed. Another formed part of the decorative hinge that viewed the whole cubicle.

As I lay on the bed, the door opened and the brutish dyke who'd hit me delivered my luggage. It had obviously been meticulously searched. She said nothing and left again.

 

 

I started unpacking and quickly covered up all the cameras I had found. Knowing the risks I then extracted my zapper and hid it quickly before they responded.

Response wasn’t long coming. The brutish dyke reappeared and set about hitting me as another guard removed all my casually scattered clothes and folded them into the drawers. They had confirmed my suspicions. I was under constant surveillance.

Suddenly another person appeared and ordered the dyke to lay off. The two guards left and the new visitor explained the rules.

"If you wanna’ get on around here kid, don’ cover up the cameras. You’re smart enough to spot them so don't spoil it for yourself by trying to cover them. You ain’ gonna’ escape. We'll be watchin’ yuh roun’ the clock."
"If you want anything from me lady, you'd better get that dammed dyke bitch off my back." I spat. "What's her grudge anyway?"

"This an' that kid. Jus’ don antagonise her. O.K! There'll be some food along shortly."

She left and I flung myself angrily on the bed again. It was frustrating having to wait for things to happen. I switched the television on and flipped through the channels. There was nothing much on but I left it on as a background noise to alleviate the boredom and loneliness.

Eventually, the door opened again and a very pretty little maid appeared with a tray of food. As she bent over to place it on the coffee table I couldn’t help slyly peeping up her skirt. The view was delectable and I squeezed my thighs together under the counterpane. Nothing happened down in my loins though and I was thankful for my trusty zapper.

The maid’s frilly dress had been a simple ploy and my every reaction was being monitored. I laughed inwardly at the battle of wits being played out. The maid rustled her petticoats and gently parted her thighs as she deliberately bent right over to pour the coffee. The seams of her tights swept right up into her frothy knickers and I swallowed nervously as the soft dark sheen of her tights screamed out to be stroked. She glanced provocatively over her shoulder with the spoon in her hand.

"How many sugars Miss?"

"Three please and lots of milk." I managed to whisper hoarsely.

She finally finished fiddling with the meal and turned to face me.

"Will that be all Miss?"

Her demeanour and mannerisms screamed SEX! But I was not going to be tempted; Indeed, I could not be tempted. As long as my zapper functioned and prevented me from responding then I was as useless as a eunuch in a harem.

"Yes thank you." I smiled politely

The maid left; a little miffed that her efforts had not been rewarded and I settled down to eat. I had not eaten since breakfast and the food disappeared quickly. After a quick shower and a change into clean silky nighty, I was soon fast asleep in the bed.

I had no idea of the time when I awoke but the sensations of soft rounded buttocks encased in satiny nylon and slithering against my own silky nightwear soon had me alive to the new day. They had crept into my bed during the night in anticipation of a morning glory erection that might be usable.

 

I savoured the closeness and their attention to my organ but there was no reaction despite my responsive behaviour. They finally left disappointed as the pretty maid returned with my breakfast. Her actions were little better than the previous night and elicited no response from me. She shrugged again and left as I picked at my food.

For the next week or so, just about every temptation and ploy was used but neither my cock nor my cunny responded to any of their ministrations. Eventually, a scientist from the observation team entered my cell to have a long chat. She tried to establish what my sexual preferences were and discover what turned me on. I simply stated that fear and imprisonment was a huge turn-off and that I could never get horny whilst being locked up in fear of my life.

"Why should you fear for your life?" She queried.

"Why am I locked up?" I countered.

"We think that you are somehow connected to Debbie and Trixie."

"So!" I snapped. "You lock me up and treat me like some sort of bait or prize in anticipation of securing some sperm or something so that you can blackmail the world. Come off it." I continued icily. "Once you've got the sperm I’m for the chop and no mistake."

I hugged myself secretly inside. At least Debbie had not divulged my connection with Trixie. She had realised her future lay in some sort of alliance with me.

"Oh we're not that ruthless. All we want is some sperm."

"Well you're not going to get any. Keeping me banged up is the last thing you should try."

"Ah but we suspect that you might be the source of the sperm."

Miraculously I managed not to react to this stunning news.

"Oh that’s priceless! Pray go on."

"You'll eventually respond or weaken one way or the other and we'll be there waiting."

"Well that's a bloody hopeless strategy at best you'll have to keep me here like a bloody stallion at stud, at worst you'll have to kill me like a golden goose for a single egg or you'll have to try and barter me for the real source of the sperm. That's a pretty sure way of suppressing any poor bastard’s libido. It’ll be like the poor bloody princess in the Arabian nights. As long as I can keep you guessing, I stay alive.

The scientist shrugged her shoulders and asked another question, which demonstrated how blind they could be.

"Are you homo-sexual?"

"Brilliant!" I squawked "and what, pray, is the similar sex that I prefer? You stupid cow! You know perfectly well that I've got both a cock and a cunny so you tell me which sex I am."

Angrily she slapped my face and cursed. She knew she had failed. I taunted her as she groped for another tactic.

"Are you going to bring a man here to make me pregnant?"

"Shurr'up!" She snarled. "We'll get to the bottom of this. That child Trixie is definitely connected to you somehow. The likeness is too uncanny."

I turned my back and started combing my hair in the mirror. I caught her lusting after my body and taunted her some more.

 

" Fancying a bit yourself are you?"

A flash of pure malice lit her steely grey eyes and she spun angrily on her heel as she marched out. That evening, the pretty maid returned with my meal. I ate it and started feeling woozy. I had been expecting this next step. The meal had been drugged.

I awoke to find myself lying in a bed in a different room. As I lay slowly recovering my senses I wondered how long I had been zonked out. My crotch was sore but I had expected that. What ever they had done whilst I was unconscious it was sure to concern my genitals. I tried to sit up but wobbled groggily and layback feeling dizzy. The dose they had used must have been enough to zonk a horse.

I heard a click and a door opened. A nurse appeared and pulled back some curtains. The light streamed in and hurt my eyes.

"Ouch! That's bloody cruel." I grumbled.

"You'll soon get used to it. The doctors are coming in a minute. They'll check if everything is O.K. See you later."

The nurse smiled and vanished.

I tried to sit up again and toppled clumsily backwards as I lost my balance again. I was puzzled because I was not feeling dizzy. Carefully I sat up again and found I needed extra effort to get upright. I wobbled again but steadied myself with my hands. My bottom wouldn’t settle properly on the mattress and I seemed to be stuck up in the air somehow. Cautiously I struggled to stand and heard a dull clink from under my cunny as the sheets dragged with me off the bed. Puzzled I looked down to find the sheets somehow tangled up in my crotch. I freed them and felt a most peculiar arrangement attached to my crotch.

I bent double and felt a strange little ringbolt fixed firmly into my crotch. Hanging from the ringbolt was a second ring about two inches diameter and a quarter on an inch thick. It was this second ring that was clinking for the ringbolt was set firmly into my crotch. I probed with my fingers and determined that the ringbolt was set hard into my crotch and somehow embedded into my pelvic bone. Worried I walked cautiously to a mirror and bent over to try and get a better view. I was glad that it didn’t impede my walking but the arrangement certainly worried me.

I was not sure whether to be angry or amused by this new little trick they had played on me. I knew that the sect was heavily into piercing and bondage, but this arrangement was a whole new league.

I tried to sit down again on the bed but the ringbolt simply dug into the mattress so that I couldn’t settle the cheeks of my bum and get comfortable. I simply rocked and wobbled on the bolt. I realised that I must have been out for a good few days or even weeks for there was little post-operative pain. Cautiously I lay back and drew my knees up as I inspected the arrangement again with a vanity mirror.

Gently I squeezed my cock and got no response. The u-bolt was attached towards the back of my crotch between my cunny and my arse so I realised gratefully that they had not gone near or discovered my microchip. The chip was well hidden and my zapper was still ‘controlling’ me even from my old room. My cock resolutely refused to react.

I felt a call of nature and made my way to the bathroom. After checking my bodily functions I realised that the u-bolt had been exactly designed and fitted to allow all functions to operate normally. In this I was at least grateful to my unknown surgeon.

 

There was one little snag though. When I 'presented' my cunny for entrance from the rear. The ringbolt extended down about two or three inches and stuck out like a docked spaniels tail when I bent over.

As I bent over and studied the little bolt sticking from my crotch the door opened and a woman I had never seen before entered. I straightened up and tried to cross my thighs for modesty. It was not very successful for the bolt and ring prevented a completely modest crossing of my legs. The woman smiled as she studied my derriere. The ringbolt and ring simply separated my glutinous folds and forced the bottoms of my bum cheeks apart. She placed a breakfast tray on the table and turned to me again.

"How do you like your new body jewellery then?"

I turned to face her and the little ring tinkled as I strode towards my clothes on the chair.

"What the hell is this for?" I squeaked angrily as I fingered the new fittings.

"Oh it's simply to help keep you under better control." She chuckled. "All we have to do now is secure a chain to your bum-ring and we have you under complete control all the time. I surgically bolted the ringbolt through the underside of your pelvis and thus rigidly attached it to your body. The tinkling of the slave ring will simply be a constant audible reminder of your bonded status. Here; try sitting in this chair."

Cautiously I tried to follow her instructions but there was no way I could sit properly on the seat. The ringbolt simply crunched against the seat and prevented my soft buttocks from settling properly onto the chair. I wobbled drunkenly for a few embarrassing seconds before giving up. There was no way I could sit on an ordinary hard chair. She smirked as she studied my antics.

"That will be a mark of your status. You will only be able to sit on 'slave chairs'. Look this one is an example. Sit on it."

She motioned to the other chair by the breakfast table. I studied the chair before sitting in it. There was a hole bored in the hard wooden seat that was obviously designed to receive my slave ring. Cautiously I lowered my bum into the seat and slotted my ringbolt and slave ring through the hole. My buttocks settled comfortably onto the chair and I was seated properly for breakfast.

"Go on. Eat it."

Gratefully I started on the food as the woman moved over towards the bed.

I watched her cautiously for a moment but she seemed too more interested in my knickers so I let her carry on.

"These won’t be any good to you from now on. You'll have to have some with a slot in the crotch or poppers to fit around the slave ring."

"If you say so." I mumbled between mouthfuls of food.

"Oh I do say so."

She gloated maliciously as she slipped behind the chair and pulled a metal lever cunningly hidden in the back of the chair. A tapered bolt moved under the chair and I felt a firm tug in my crotch as the taper slipped through my ring and firmly anchored my bum to the chair. There was a metallic click and I was pinned firmly to the seat by my crotch.

 

 

 

 

I let out a squeak of fright and tried to stand up. With my bum firmly anchored to the chair I could gain no purchase with my feet and they simply scrabbled uselessly along the floor. No matter which way I tried to reposition my feet they simply lost purchase when I tried to straighten my knees. It was hopeless. I tried to reach under the chair but the high arms and deep sides prevented me reaching the bolt whilst my ringbolt prevented me from twisting around and reaching under the back. I was absolutely helpless

"You may as well finish your breakfast Beverly. You can get dressed when I return with some suitable clothes."

With these words, she gently squeezed my tits to emphasize my complete helplessness and then she left. I finished my meal and awaited events. I could go nowhere and no amount of struggling enabled me to reach the catch under the seat.

Eventually the door opened and my old acquaintance the maid entered. She smiled at my predicament as she gathered my dishes together. This done she slipped down below the back of my chair. I squirmed nervously as she disappeared from view and then I felt her fiddling with the seat under my butt. Suddenly, her knowing fingers removed a small piece of the seat exactly under my cunny and only an inch or two from the ringbolt hole. She then stood in front of me and produced a vibrator from under her maids uniform. She held it under my nose and I immediately realised where she had been keeping it. It was warm and sticky with her love dew.

"Would you like this dear?" She smiled.

"Have I any choice?"

"Not really," she gloated, "You only get a choice if you get hard and screw me. I've been desperate for a proper dick for some time."

"Really?" I shrugged. "I thought you were all lesbians here?"

"Oh not completely." She grinned. "Some of us are A.C., D.C."

I shrugged my shoulders and ignored her advances. She responded in kind and shrugged her shoulders as she spoke.

"Very well then. The vibrator it is."

She returned to the back of the chair and felt the gadget slowly being twisted and pushed up through the hole in the chair into my cunny. I squealed then tried wriggling and twitching my cunny lips but this only served to ease its invasive assault. So firmly was I attached to the chair that no matter how much I wriggled and squealed I simply couldn’t escape it’s trembling invasion. Then I heard a click and the vibrator became locked solid inside me. She had secured it to the seat so the vibrations were simultaneously transmitted into my cunny and through the chair seat to my bum. I simply had to sit there and endure the cunning device as it throbbed and wriggled in my cunny.

She watched expectantly for several minutes before a puzzled frown crossed her brow. I reached for another cup of coffee and nonchalantly drank it as she became more and more perplexed.

"Doesn’t anything turn you on darling Bev?"

"As I said the other day; before this little business. (I nodded down to the ringbolt in my groin.) I can't get horny if I'm in fear of my life."

"But we don’t want to kill you or harm you, we only want some of that sperm we know you make."

 

This was the first time they had admitted that they definitely knew I made live sperm. I shuddered inwardly but kept my composure. I did not know how long they had known but their admitting they knew indicated a change of tactics.

"And after you've got the sperm?" I let the question hang.

She was silent. The ‘after’ was the big question as far as I was concerned. They were still puzzled as to why I had resolutely resisted all their advances. I silently offered up a desperately thankful prayer for the zapper and all its tricks.

The maid gathered up the dishes and left. The vibrator was still whirring away in my cunny and now beginning to tickle and irritate. I wriggled violently but only succeeded in toppling the chair sideways. After struggling for what seemed an age I managed to get on my hands and knees with the chair ‘mounting’ me like a dog on a bitch. Through all this the vibrator still whirred away; a blind mechanical brute gnawing away at my now sore cunny lips. I was beginning to get afraid. A smear of blood oozed down the chair seat and I started to shout for help. There was danger of damage being done.

My calls were answered eventually. The door creaked open and I peered over my shoulder to see Debbie enter with a pile of clothes in her arms. She stood smiling at my predicament as I whimpered and wriggled.

"For Gods sake! Stop the bloody thing. It's cutting me, look."

I nodded towards the little smear of blood on the floor between my scuffed knees. Debbie’s eyes fell on it and her expression changed instantly. She bent down and switched the vibrator off then carefully removed it. She muttered a curse as she grabbed a tissue and wiped the blood off it.

"You shouldn’t have toppled the chair over. The whole weight of it was pressing the thing against your cunny lips. If you'd simply sat back and enjoyed it you’d have been O.K." She scolded.

"I can't bloody enjoy it. Not here, not like this anyway."

"Well it's over now. I've come to dress you."

She released the tapered bolt and hoisted me gently to my feet. My bum felt numb and I rubbed it softly to try and regain circulation. The blood from my wounds smeared my fingers and I cursed.

"You’d better go and shower then we'll treat the cuts."

I glared at Debbie and retreated into the shower. There I investigated my sore cunny. My pussy lips were sore and chaffed but not seriously damaged. The blood had mingled with cunny juice and this had made the bleeding appear worse than it really was. After some careful treatment the bleeding stopped and I stepped gingerly out of the shower. Debbie smiled and pointed to the neatly folded clothes on the bed.

"Get on the bed and I'll put some ointment on your cunny."

Reluctantly I lay back and parted my legs. Debbie giggled as she gripped my cock between her forefinger and thumb and lifted it up.

"It looks like a chicken with its neck wrung."

"Heard it before." I sneered in a bored tone. "Just get on with it."

Debbie’s smile vanished and she rubbed the ointment into my crotch vigorously.

"Ouch! Watch it! That hurts." I squealed.

"Serve you right."

 

"Oh. And why's that?" I demanded. "I've done nothing wrong."

Her actions calmed down and she gently stroked my cunny lips as she studied me.

"Do you ever get turned on?" She asked, puzzled.

"If the time and place is right and the conditions less threatening. Yes."

"Well I can honestly say we're not going to hurt you."

"Oh yeah!" I snapped. "What about my cunny and this bloody bolt thing?"

"You'll learn more about that this morning. You’d better put these clothes on. We're going to see the committee."

This was a development I had been anticipating and I had been preparing my arguments accordingly. I stood up and started to dress with Debbie’s able assistance.

The bolt and ring in my crotch precluded any hope of ordinary knickers or tights but my unknown tailor had anticipated this.

Firstly I fastened a suspender belt around my waist and slid a pair of fine denier stockings up my legs. These I savoured momentarily as the soft clingy silk gently caressed my grateful thighs. Had I not been ‘zapped’ I would have been sporting a monstrous erection and they would have got their ‘pound of flesh'.

Next a soft silky body-shaper was slipped over my shoulders and breasts. Normally I stepped into these with the crotch already 'popped closed'; a hangover from my childhood days as a boy when I stepped into my pants. Now however, I had to thread the ‘ forked tail’ of the shaper around the bolt and snap it shut under my cunny. As we were both bending and fiddling with the poppers, Debbie quickly slipped a chain under my crotch and clipped it onto the ring. It hung like a tail from my crotch and reached the floor with only a couple of links to spare.

I frowned as I studied it. It was obviously some sort of security device and I wouldn’t be going far without it. I reached under my crotch but was unable to fathom out how it was secured. I thought back to the cunny ring and the tiny key that Debbie had used to unlock it. This was probably of the same standard of craftsmanship.

The chain felt as smooth as silk and I could find no crack or opening where it might have unlocked. I was securely attached to my 'tail'. Debbie simply smirked and held out a full-length satin dress. I slipped it over my shoulders and twitched nervously as Debbie fastened the buttons and bows down my back. The buttons stopped at the waist and a wiggled my bum experimentally. A cool draught confirmed that the rear of the dress was split all the way up to my waist. She then held out a pair of heels and I just managed to teeter towards the slave chair. As I swept my dress under me to avoid creases I realised that my u-bolt was completely clear to slot into the gap in the chair. The crease of my bum would be clearly visible unless I took special precautions to smooth the dress correctly. Eventually I got myself ‘decent’ and Debbie started to comb my hair.

As I savoured her gentle hands brushing my flowing hair I sensed the cold hard seat under my exposed thighs. The incongruence of sitting in a 'slave-chair’ whilst having my hair combed and pampered caused my to ponder my fate. The sense of vulnerability affected by my state of dress was obviously part of a ploy to make me more amenable.

 

With my hair now shining from her attentions I was taken to the door. She opened it and took the loose end of my chain in her hand. Gently she tugged it and I stopped immediately. My pelvis tilted forward a bit and I almost lost my balance.

"Ooh! Steady Debs, I nearly lost it then."

"Back up a bit then."

I turned around to find her bending down and inserting my chain into a bracket in the floor.

"Back up you stupid thing!" Ordered Debbie.

"What are you doing?" I complained as I stepped back carefully.

There was a sharp metallic click and she stood up satisfied.

"There we are Bev. It's a bit like the under-street rails on the cable cars in San Francisco. You are now attached to a rail under the floor. You can only go where there is a slot in the floor. You won't be dragged along like the cable cars but the rails will guide your every step. Come along."

I stepped forward cautiously and felt the chain tugging at my crotch. With the high heels there wasn’t much spare chain and as I teetered along the chain gently tugged at my crotch with each short mincing step. Eventually I found a style that most suited the device but it entailed swaying my hips with each step. This caused the dress to swing sideways and flash my bum with each stride. Debbie paused to study my progress and her eyes widened appreciatively.

"That's lovely Bev, just perfect. You'll find switch points at each junction and they are programmed to direct you. Today we are going to the committee rooms."

My clicking heels and swaying teetering gait made the chain and ring tinkle and clink as I progressed down the corridor. The noise acted as a harbinger of my arrival and several heads turned appreciatively as they monitored my advance. Debbie smiled at each of them as we passed.

We came to the first ‘junction’ in the floor guide and I hesitated. Debbie simply smiled and nodded her head, noncommittally I thought.

I took the right turn but the chain pulled up short and yanked me to a sudden stop. The sudden unforgiving jolt pulled my groin so violently that I stumbled and fell. As my feet slipped out from under me the chain yanked up tight and my bum hit the floor. The ringbolt crunched into the floor and the resultant jarring shock sent excruciating shock waves up my spine. I screamed with agony before passing out. The force of my impact stunned Debbie and she rushed forward to try and help me up.

I came to with ripples of nerve-jangling pain tearing through my hips and spine and it was a further ten minutes before I could move. In fact they thought I was paralysed and had hastened a doctor to my side. My kidnappers had realised that there were still some bugs in their new experimental security system. I had been walking quite slowly and had fetched up far too suddenly for safety. The resultant tug had forced me down as well as stopping me. It was obvious that the junctions would have to be modified. Alternatively a 'shock-absorbing’ fixture would have to be incorporated in the track roller or in my chain.

As I lay recovering on the corridor floor I heard them discussing this and I wondered who else was destined to be constrained like me. My mind was working overtime despite the pain.

 

 

Eventually the doctor determined that there was no permanent damage but they changed my shoes to ameliorate the pain in my back and the doctor prescribed some painkillers. I was still destined to stand before the committee however.

Carefully I got to my feet and stepped gratefully into the soft shoes. At each junction Debbie carefully guided my chain into the correct slot and we eventually arrived at the committee rooms. I was finally to meet my captors proper.

I limped painfully into the chamber and sat in the seat indicated. Once seated, I studied my mentors. They were everything I expected them to be. A typical cross section of inadequates and power hungry types that could be expected to gravitate into the sad existence of cults. The only face I recognised was the surgeon who’d operated on me for my u-bolt.

After several questions I realised that they didn’t know very much and they weren’t very intelligent. They got no further in their attempts to discover why I wasn’t responding to their efforts. They couldn’t establish why I wasn’t having erections or ejaculating sperm. After some lamentable ideas and propositions it was obvious that they were on the verge of giving up and getting rid of me. I had not yet been contacted by my friends outside despite my assumption that my zapper tracer signal was still active. I was desperate to get back to my old cell and recover my zapper. I had to know if it was still transmitting.

I had to destabilise the organisation to try and expose or create some weak links. I decided to try a little ploy and let the committee know that I was still capable of producing sperm and it was capable of impregnating any woman. This would lower the status of Debbie in their eyes and therefore make her more vulnerable to the whims and wishes of the real power brokers.

I had been surprised to note that Debbie wasn’t even sitting on the committee. She had sat through the questioning and then left as the committee debated my fate. If I told the committee about my condition Debbie would not even be aware of the change in the status quo. It might take a few days for her to realise her drop in status. Knowing how selfish and naive Debbie could be, she would probably come looking to me for some sort of support or comfort.

My simplest ploy would be to get Debbie pregnant but I could not dare risk using my sperm just yet. My biggest problem was recovering my zapper from my old cell. Fortunately, I had hidden it near the door out of the immediate view of any known security cameras. I had to find my old cell and contact my friends outside.

The solutions to both problems occurred at the same time a few weeks later. I was now allowed to wander along certain corridors as and where my chain would permit. I frequently came across teams of repair girls as they extended the under-floor rails and modified the switch points with shock absorbers after my nasty experience. They always had time for a smile and a chat for they knew my status and were curious about my sexuality. I was a fair target for their teasing as I teetered along in my high heels with my swaying hips, flashing frilly lingerie and vulnerable wobbling bum.

"Nice plumbers cleavage Bev." Was a common remark from the repair girls?

Sometimes also, I felt a curious hand trying to investigate my rear but a squeak of protest nearly always brought help. There was always help close at hand and it appeared that the new rule was 'anybody could look, but they must not touch’.

Occasionally though, I suffered a more serious attempt as a more determined member of the cult managed to ‘trap’ me in some remote part of the campus. They invariably had a go at ‘scoring’ in a naïve effort to obtain the ‘holy grail’ that the whole cult was aiming for; namely my sperm.

As the weeks went on the repairs were completed and I had the run of most of the campus. The repair girls had moved on and the attempts on my body were getting rarer. I realised why one sunny morning when I suddenly met some other girls who had been similarly 'crotch-bolted' like me. I was teetering down the corridor when I met them head on and I paused, expecting them to step aside. They giggled self-consciously and discreetly lifted their skirts to reveal their similar condition.

"You'll have to back up Bev. There are four of us in a row."

I peered round them to note that they were not only slotted into the rails but also linked together like a train. I smiled at them and asked them where they were going.

"To the refectory for lunch, are you coming?" Answered the first girl.

It was obvious that they were submissive 'lip-stick’ lesbians who enjoyed submissive forms of sex and bondage. Despite our differences however, I still felt a sort of camaraderie because of our similar conditions. As a consequence I started spending most of my 'free time' with them. Eventually I was regarded as one of the submissive crowd and the cult came to regard me as part of this group. It suited my purposes. Sometimes I even linked up to them and shared their strange deviancy in my efforts to become 'invisible'.

Most corridors and common rooms enjoyed only rudimentary surveillance and I gradually established where the blind spots existed. By carefully watching the behaviour of the others in the cult I could establish where and when they were un-inhibited. During these weeks many of the ‘bondage’ friends tried to turn me on but my zapper performed magnificently and I became laughingly referred to as 'The Ice Maiden'.

As new faces gradually joined the cult so the occasional new face joined the bondage bunch. It was one of these new faces that eventually identified herself as a rescuer sent by Margaret and my friends.

 

 

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© 2001 by Beverly Taff. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.