Chapter Ten

 

 

Thirty sweaty, satisfying, distracting minutes later, Jessie had just sunk down onto him, her arms and legs still straddling him, when there was another knock on the door. 

“The police?” she suggested, sitting up. 
”If it is, their timing sucks.  I was just about to retaliate, and you were going to pay big,” Daniel said, shifting to sit on the side of the bed, Jessie still held in his arms. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she mocked.  “You haven’t got your breath back yet, tough guy.  I’ll go,” she added, climbing off him and reaching for her clothes, not bothering with underwear.  The knock sounded again, a bit louder.  She threw her clothes on and hurried out, leaving Daniel trying to work out where she’d thrown his jeans when she’d all but ripped them off him.  He listened as she opened the door.

“It’s okay,” she called.  “It’s Angela and Patrick.”
”Already?” he abandoned his search for his jeans and wrapped a sheet around his hips instead. 

 

They came in laughing, arms around each other.  Angela’s eyes lit up even more when she saw what Daniel wasn’t wearing. 

“Oops,” she said.  “We interrupted.” 

“I thought we might have when I noticed Jessie wasn’t wearing a bra,” Patrick said.  Jessie crossed her arms over her chest and went to go back into the bedroom, but Daniel caught her.

“Don’t worry about it,” he grinned, as Patrick laughed.  Angela thumped Patrick on the shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to notice,” she said. 

“Very un-gentlemanly of me,” he agreed. “Sorry, baby doll.”  Jessie had real heat in her eyes when she turned on him this time.


”Be very careful,” Daniel warned, holding her trapped against him.  “She’s had a bad night, and she’s all primed to attack.  She’s hardly even worked the edge of her temper off so far.” 

“What happened?” Angela asked immediately.  Jessie shook her head.

“You first,” she said.  “Why are you home so early?”
”Because Patrick had managed to insult everyone already,” Angela grinned. 

“This I have to hear,” Jessie said, tugging on Daniel’s hand.  “I’m make coffee afterwards.  Sit down, everyone.” 

 

Angela went to curl up on the floor, but Patrick caught her before she could.
”Not in that dress,” he said.  She was wearing a magnificent black and silver evening gown that fit closely everywhere it should and had a scalloped neckline that bared her shoulders and some of her cleavage.  Against her ivory skin, the material looked midnight black, with starlight from the spangles scattered through it.  Jessie thought she’d never seen Angela look so lovely. 

“Alright,” Angela sighed.  “Although it’s served its purpose.” She sank down onto the sofa, Patrick beside her.  Daniel pulled Jessie onto his lap this time, occupying one of the chairs.  She covered up part of his almost bare torso, and she leaned back comfortably against his still sweaty skin. 

“So…?” she prompted.  Angela looked at Patrick.
”You start,” she said.  He smiled.

 

“We walked in, and it was like one of those scenes in Westerns – you know, where the villain comes in and the piano playing and the card playing and the drinking stops?  I swear everyone in the ballroom looked at us.”
”And if they didn’t look then, they looked within the next minute or so,” Angela added.

“Who’s telling this?” Patrick protested.  “But she’s right. We did cut rather a swathe through that crowd.”
”He was drawing most of the attention,” Angela said.  Patrick put his hand over her mouth.

“I was drawing some of the attention,” he conceded.  “But Miss Starlight here was drawing her share.  We walked over to one of the waiters.”  He shook his head. “’Bottomless’,” he snorted.  Angela laughed from behind his hand as he went on.  She tried to shake his hand off, but he wouldn’t shift it, so she started licking it, hoping to gross him out.  It didn’t work.  He just kept talking.   “Most of them looked about twelve, but I guess they must have been legal.  They were wearing leather g-strings.” He looked at Daniel.  “Not one of them would have made it to the first stage of the selection process for dazzlers.” 

 

“Get on with it,” Jessie said.  Patrick laughed and shifted his hand from Angela’s mouth, wiping his palm on her arm. 

“Save that tongue action for later, woman,” he advised.  “Anyway, we went to get a drink, and within seconds, the first barracuda had arrived.”
”Ostensibly to talk to me,” Angela said.  “It was Dorothy Winterman, the Grande Dame of the club.  She came up going ‘Andie, darling!  How nice to see you again.’ And looked straight past me to Patrick.  And waited expectantly.”

“And Angie scored her first points of the night,” Patrick grinned.  “By replying. ‘I’m sorry.  Do I know you?’  The woman turned puce, but she recovered.  She introduced herself, and then held her hand out to me and said ‘And of course, I know who YOU are.’” 

Angela laughed.

“And Patrick replied.  ‘Of course you do’ and turned away.”  Jessie’s jaw dropped. 

“I don’t know which one of you is the bigger bitch!” she said.

 

“Oh honey, you ain’t heard the best yet,” Patrick grinned.  “A second woman came up, dragging yet another one with her, came straight up to me, ignoring Angie, and said: ‘It’s always been my aim to kiss you or The Cat, right on the mouth.’ or words to that effect.”
”Dear God,” Daniel said, looking pained.  Patrick nodded.

“Exactly,” he said.  Angela held up her hand.

“Let me,” she said, trying to talk through her laugh.  “And Patrick replied.  ‘Gee, and I thought aims were supposed to be challenging, not unattainable.’ and turned to me and kissed me instead.” 

 

“So did you just travel from person to person, insulting them?” Daniel laughed. 

“Just about,” Patrick said.  “Although mostly, they came to us.  I wasn’t horrible to all of them.  I even kissed one of them.”
”Emily Warcroft,” Angela said to Jessie.  “Remember her?  I told you about the one who contacted me when I got out of the Institute.” Jessie nodded.  “She came up to me and held my hands and told me it was good to see me looking so happy.  Patrick was getting ready to savage her, but I hugged her so he could see she was alright.” 

“Just in time,” he said.  “She was wearing a very unfortunate dress, and I was about to comment on the fact that its colour matched the regrowth in her hair.”
”You used that on somebody else,” Angela said. 
”One of the benefits of being tall,” Patrick said.  “Is that you can see the tops of people’s heads a lot clearer than they realise.” 

 

“He got worse still,” Angela said.  “Once he’d warmed up.  Shelley McClintock breezed up to us, this man in tow, and said to me ‘Andie, where DID you find this DIVINE man?’  Right in front of her date!” 

“And you said?” Jessie prompted.

“I said ‘in the Shame Institute, Shelly.  They have a wonderful pool to choose from. You might like to try it.’” 

“Good one,” Daniel grinned. 

“And Patrick added ‘In fact, haven’t we seen you there already?’ and Shelley bristled at the same time as trying to make eyes at him, and said ‘No, of course not!’.” 

 

Patrick continued the tale.
”I added ‘Gee, you must have a double.  There was a woman who looked just like you.  Same matronly figure.  Are you SURE it wasn’t you?  Assume the display position for me.’”

“And she almost did it!” Angela choked up.  “She stopped herself just in time, damn it.”
”I’m glad she did,” Patrick looked revolted.  “She’d have been out of that dress if she’d lifted her arms.”

 

“Didn’t anyone try to take you on?” Jessie asked.  “Surely they didn’t just stand around while you two made cutting comments?”

“Well, the three sisters sidled up at one stage,” Angela said.  “The three I used to hang out with?”  Jessie nodded, her smile fading.  They’d hurt Angela badly by completely cutting off all ties with her when she was charged. 

“The three sisters?” Daniel asked.

“Don’t bother,” Patrick said.  “Three bottle blondes, one of them with the sort of tan that looks like leather, one with collagen in her lips and one with huge…” he held a hand out in front of his chest, then rethought what he was going to say.  “Let’s just say she’d be very popular in the BB Game,” he finished.

“Gotcha,” Daniel said, settling an arm under Jessie’s breasts.  She smacked his forearm, and he laughed, but didn’t move it. 

 

“The three of them just surrounded Angie,” Patrick went on.  “Actually got between us.  And one of them was going on about how good she looked – which she does.  Another one asked her what she was doing with her life – that’s actually what she said, she gushed ‘and what are you doing with your life now, Andie?  Have you picked up the pieces?’ I couldn’t believe anyone actually talked like that.” 

“They went on and on,” Angela added.  “They said how devastated they’d been when I was charged, how horrified they’d been to know I was going to the Institute, how they’d just felt terrible for me when I’d appeared on television, how they’d all watched the show and just shuddered for me, all of that.” 

“Bitches,” Daniel commented pithily.  Patrick nodded.

“Bitches,” he agreed.  “And all the time, they’re sending little looks my way, and the one with the big…and one of them was taking deep breaths and pointing her cleavage at me.” 

“Impressive cleavage, I have to admit,” Angela said.
”The Grand Canyon is small by comparison,” Patrick said.

 

“Enough about the cleavage.  What did you say?” Jessie asked.

“I told them I was a successful author, that I had a new career, a new name, a new man, a new hairdo, and new friends,” Angela smiled.  “And Patrick edged through them, put his arms around me, and kissed me until they gave up and left.” 

“Sometimes actions speak louder than words,” he said with a smile.  Then his smile turned a little sour.  “There was one character a bit later that I’d have liked to use some action on.”
”Darren Lindcraft-Brown,” Angela explained.  “The one I’d just started dating when it all hit the fan.”  Jessie nodded.

“The heir to something or other?” she said. “The useless one?”
”Well put,” Angela said.  “Would you believe, he walked right up to me, said hello, and then told me he’d enjoyed watching me on ‘The Shame Game’?  And then he looked at Patrick and said ‘You do a good job there, man.’  Chinless fool.  I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”

“And you didn’t hit him?” Daniel asked Patrick.

“Tempted, very tempted,” Patrick said.  “But no.  I asked him whether he’d taped the show, and he said he had.  So I suggested he enjoy watching it, because that was as close as he was ever going to get to her.” 

“And then I accidentally tipped some wine on his trousers,” Angela smiled.  “Half a glass, in fact.” 

“Well done,” Jessie approved.  “Very well done.  But trousers?  I thought this was supposed to be a Bacchinalia festival?  I thought you two were going to stand out in your evening clothes.’
”There wasn’t a toga in sight,” Patrick said.  “That’s not how to run a Bacchinalia festival, I can tell you.  Togas for the men and nothing but bunches of grapes for the women.  That’s what they should have had.”

“How would the bunches of grapes stay on?” Jessie asked, diverted, despite herself.

“String around your neck and around your waist,” Daniel suggested, drawing the lines on her.

“That would get heavy and cut into me,” she pointed out practically.
”Not once I’d eaten all the grapes and just left the stalks,” he smiled.

 

“Anyway,” Patrick continued.  “Despite all of the nastiness and bitchery we were dispersing, people kept coming to us, and at one stage we had about eight or ten of them talking to us, and this older woman finally asked the question.”
”The question?” Jessie raised her eyebrows.

“Not in so many words, but basically how a nice boy like me had ended up with such a bad influence as Andie Nugent,” he said. 

“A nice boy?” Jessie repeated, incredulous.  “You?”  Patrick grinned. 

“And he smiled all round, playing the crowd, and delivered a speech,” Angela said proudly.  “Can you remember it word for word?”

 

“Close enough,” Patrick said.  “Let’s see if I can recite it.  Okay: One of the things I notice in the job I do is that people who are successful, who are born rich, or are lucky enough to make money easily, are just as prone to making mistakes and getting caught as anyone else.  Almost all of the women I see are guilty of greed, ignorance and a callous disregard of other people’s feelings.  A lot of the women here tonight remind me of them, actually.  Most of them don’t learn a thing through their experience at the Shame Institute.  But every now and then, very, very rarely, you come across someone who really shouldn’t be there, someone who’s tripped and fallen, without meaning to do any harm to anyone.  Even more rarely, one of those people has the drive and the ability and the guts to drag themselves back up later and get their life back on track.  And when that someone is as beautiful and intelligent and loving and forgiving as Angie, then I’d have to be a fool to let her go, wouldn’t I?” 

 

“Ohhhh,” Jessie said, her throat tightening with emotion.  Angela kissed Patrick’s cheek.  He smiled at her, his blue eyes full of affection and more. 

“There didn’t seem to be anything to add to that, so we left,” Angela said.  “So…what happened here tonight?” 

 

“I’ll make us some coffee,” Daniel said.  “Hop up, Jess.” 
”You can’t just stand up with me on your lap, oh great one?” she teased.  She should have known better.  Next instant, she was dumped on her feet, and he was walking away, grinning. She responded by standing on the edge of the sheet.  He dived for it as he felt it tug, but not fast enough to prevent Angela from getting another very good view of his bare backside. 

“Well, that just sealed the night for me,” she sighed.  “One of the best nights on record.” 

“So pleased I could be of assistance,” Daniel said, dragging the sheet out from under Jessie’s foot and wrapping it more securely.  He narrowed his eyes threateningly at her as she smiled triumphantly in his direction.   “Patrick, tease Jessie about the fact that she’s not wearing a bra for a while, will you?” 

 

“With pleasure,” his brother said.  “You didn’t get to try the webbras, did you Jessie?”  Jessie, who’d almost made a dash for the bedroom and her underwear as soon as Daniel had spoken, decided to stand her ground.

“Were those the transparent things the women wore when they were exercising?” she asked, curious.  He nodded, mischief in his eyes, and reached out for her, too fast for her to avoid his hands on her hips, pulling her closer to him.

“Let me go,” she wriggled, at the same time as Angela poked him in the side. 

“Just demonstrating something,” he said, resisting both of them.  “The webbras are made of a special polymer that moulds to the body once it heats up.  It fits under here.” Again despite Jessie’s wriggles, he ran a fingertip under one of her breasts.  “And it has a number of strips that provide support.”  His hand turned, cupping her breast for an instant.

 

“Patrick!” Jessie struggled, batting at his hand, which he’d already shifted.

“Stop it, Patrick,” Angela warned.

“In a minute,” he said.  “Anyway, the women are fitted with them each time they exercise, and a dazzler trims the webbra so that it provides maximum support from underneath, without covering the nipples or stopping that delightful jiggling action.  Yes, that’s the one, Jessie.  Thank you for demonstrating.”  His rich laughter rang out as she finally gave in to the urge to bring her arms over her chest and hurry to the bedroom. 

 

“They’re surprisingly comfortable,” Angela said when Jessie was back, glaring at Patrick, who just grinned in return.  “The webbras, I mean.  I don’t know why real underwear isn’t made out of that stuff.”
”Jake’s working on it,” Daniel said. “It was developed by an industrial chemist who works at the Institute.”  There was something odd about the way he said that.

“The Institute has an industrial chemist working there?” Jessie queried. 

“He doubles as the head dazzler,” Patrick said. 

“You’re an industrial chemist,” she said.  Angela didn’t look surprised, so it was obvious she knew already.
”He trained in France,” she said. 

“And I only ever worked in Europe,” he said.  “Same as Daniel.  Both of us would probably need to do update and refresher courses to work in this country.  And it’s been a few years since we’ve done anything but work for Jake.” 

 

“You speak French?” Jessie asked.  Daniel laughed from the kitchen.

“No,” he teased.  “We studied for our degrees in English while living in France.”  She glared in his general direction.

“Neither of you has a trace of an accent,” she said.
”We moved here when I was six,” Patrick said.  “And only went back when we were grown.  Maman always said we talk French with an accent.”
”And you can hear it in Patrick’s speech on certain words,” Angela said.  “But it’s very rare.” 

“So you made the webbra,” Jessie said.  “You could be rich.”

 

“I am rich,” he reminded her with a smile.  “And I came up with the idea, but someone else actually made it.  I’m good at fitting them, though.  Want me to demonstrate?” 
”You did,” Angela said.  “Twice, while I was in the Institute.” 
”Oops,” he said.  “Changing the subject now.  There are lots of uses for the stuff that’s developed in the Institute. Some of the creams Frank develops have a lot of potential, too.”
”Nothing that man does is good,” Jessie argued.  She walked over to the kitchen to help with the coffee.  It was tempting to wait until Daniel had his hands full and then de-sheet him again, but she didn’t want the coffee spilled.  “I suppose you met the horrible doctor, Angie?”  Angela looked pained.

 

“I certainly did,” she said.  “I agree with you, Jessie.  That man is one of the best arguments for retrospective abortion I’ve ever come across.”  Patrick shook his head as he took one of the coffee cups from Jessie.  He deliberately let his gaze linger just an instant too long on the front of her t-shirt, to the point where she was about to waste the second cup of coffee for the night and to hell with the carpet.  Then he winked at her, and she decided to forgive him. He was only doing what Daniel had asked him to do, so it made sense that Daniel should be punished instead.  She had all sorts of ideas for that. 

 

“Frank is a genius in some ways,” Daniel said.  “And don’t they say that genius often walks a fine line with insanity?”
”I think he stumbled over that line some time ago,” Jessie said.  “Jake shouldn’t let him continue working there.”
”Jake doesn’t like him, but he recognises what an asset he is when it comes to shaming the prisoners,” Patrick said.  “He didn’t let him appear on the Sienna Mallow series.  To protect him, because if doctors in the community saw how he behaved, he’d probably be disbarred.”

“No probably about it,” Jessie said vehemently.  “Him and his stupid nicknames.”  Daniel patted her bottom just as she sat down on his lap, and she sent him a look.  Something else he was going to pay for later.  He grinned, recognising that look. 

 

“He called me ‘the burning bush’,” Angela said.  Patrick choked on his coffee and Daniel only just managed not to laugh.

“That’s one of his more original ones,” he said, while Patrick wiped his streaming eyes.  “Normally his nicknames are just silly or insulting things, like ‘saggy’ or ‘bouncy’ or…” he tried to think of another one that wasn’t obscene, and failed. 
”You’re forgetting ‘clitty clitty bang bang’,” Patrick said, having recovered from the coffee.

“Actually, I was choosing not to share that one,” Daniel said.  “For fear of reprisals.”
”Too late,” Jessie assured him sweetly.

“And after I rescued you and all,” he said.
”I was doing just fine on my own,” she pointed out, but she smiled at him anyway.  She turned back to Angela and Patrick.


”Brad Clarence visited me tonight,” she said.  “The Chairman of the School Board,” she added for Patrick’s benefit.  “Daniel was in the bathroom when he arrived, and he stayed there and listened.”

“What did Clarence want?” Angela asked.

“Me,” Jessie said simply. “On a platter.  For a year.  In exchange, he’d give me my job back.”
”What?” Patrick demanded, his face dead serious for once.  “He offered you your job in exchange for a year of sex?”
”Nothing quite so simple,” Daniel said.  “He wanted sex slavery.  He gave her eight pages of instructions – they’re over there in a plastic bag, in case we need to use them as evidence.  You wouldn’t believe some of the things he had written on those pages.  Just for a sample, one of the instructions was that every night when he arrived here, she was to be waiting in the hallway, naked, on her hands and knees, with her lips pressed to the carpet.  And she was to kiss his shoes as he approached.”  The look on his face suggested that it would be better for Brad Clarence if he were never to cross his path again.

 

“Tell me you beat him senseless,” Angela said.  Jessie shook her head.

“No, but he pinned him against the wall by his neck and threw him down the stairs,” she said.

“I meant you,” Angela said to her.  “Why didn’t you hit him with something?”
”I asked her to keep him talking,” Daniel explained.  “I wanted to hear what he was going to say.”   He looked over at Patrick.  “What?”
”He’s not getting away with that,” Patrick said, his blue eyes hard and cold as ice. “He is not getting away with doing that to our Jessie.” 

“We’re intending to use it in the court case,” Jessie said, feeling warm nevertheless.  She could look after herself, but it was nice to feel protected like this.  Patrick shook his head.

“Not enough,” he said.  “He will pay for that.” 

 

 

And later, hours later, after they’d left, Daniel assured her that when Patrick got that look in his eye, it boded very badly for whoever he was thinking about.  Jessie, pleased by that, was even more pleased to discover that the feather duster she had in her cleaning cupboard caused almost as much damage to Daniel’s composure as his brushes had. 

 

“Tell your big brother to taunt me about the fact I’m not wearing a bra, will you?” she teased, trailing the feathers down his sides as he lay naked on the bed, laughing, his wrists tied to the headboard with scarves again.  “And pat me on the backside to remind me of a stupid nickname as well?” the feather duster danced over his genitals.  She sighed, marvelling once more at the beauty of his body as he writhed around under her.  “Well, Mr Cat,” she said, with a swirl of the duster up his belly and under his arms.  “Two can play at this game.”
”Oh, you want to play with The Cat now?” Daniel asked, eyes dancing.  He squirmed as she tickled the feathers down his groin again.  Jessie laughed softly.

“Yes, I feel brave enough to play with The Cat when he’s restrained like this,” she said.  Then her eyes widened in shock as he twisted his wrists and brought them down, smiling wickedly, teeth bared. 

“Jessie, Jessie, Jessie,” he said, plucking the duster out of her hand and rolling, pinning her under him.  “You can’t keep a cat tied up.  Now, little mouse, about these feathers…” 

 

The squealing and laughter went on for some time after that. 

 

……….……….

 

In the early hours of the morning, Daniel was woken by Jessie’s wrigglings and murmurs of distress, and he kissed her awake, his hands stroking her body, his voice soothing her out of the nightmare.

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked, snuggling her closer against him, their bodies warm and tangled. 

“Brad Clarence,” she said, still trying to clear her head.  “In the Institute.  He was making me dance for him.  I saw this woman in there having to dance for this man, Daniel, and he was looking at her just like Brad looked at me today, I mean yesterday, and he was touching my nipples and it…”

”Ssssh,” he said, trying to ban that image from his mind, too.  The thought of that disgusting man looking at Jessie, touching Jessie, made him feel ill.  “It didn’t happen, and it’s not going to happen.  It was just a dream.”
”It wasn’t for Angie,” she whispered.  “Three times she had to go through that.  I look at her with Patrick now, and she’s so happy, but can you imagine what it must have been like?”

“Far too well now,” he said, his deep voice vibrating against her as he spoke.  “But there’s nothing we can do about it, honey.”  She nuzzled into his shoulder, tickling him with her hair, but he didn’t move. 

 

She was so still that he thought she’d gone back to sleep.  He shifted her weight a little, then put his hand on her bottom and pulled her closer still to him. 
”Mmmm,” she murmured, wriggling against him.  “I’ve been meaning to ask about that photo of you and Patrick.”
”The infamous embrace?” he asked, a smile in his voice.

“Yes,” she said.  “Why were you hugging each other?” She wriggled a bit more, loving the feel of his bare body against hers.
”We have to have a reason?”

“No, but I’ve never seen you hug each other.” 

“You’re right.  We don’t do it often.  Patrick was hugging me because he was very pleased about something I’d just told him.”

”And what was that?” she asked sleepily.  He smiled against her hair.
”I told him I’m going to marry you,” he admitted.  Jessie stopped her soft wriggling.  She lifted her head from his shoulder and pushed herself up, her arms on his chest.

“You did?” she asked.  He nodded.  She could just see him in the darkness. 
”Were you planning to tell me?” she asked.

“I was planning to ask you,” he amended.

“When?” she asked.  She saw his teeth as he smiled.

“How about now?” he asked. 
”Here?” she said.  “Lying naked in bed?”  He nodded again.
”Seems perfect to me,” he said.  “Will you marry me, Jessie?”  All thoughts of nightmares faded and dissolved into nothing.  As did all thoughts of the fact that they’d known each other for less than a month, and that she’d been terrified of him the first few times she met him.

“Yes,” she said softly, simply. 

 

He slid down the bed, holding her where she was, until their faces were level, and he kissed her and kissed her, until they were both almost senseless with it.  He rolled her onto her back and lifted her further up onto the pillows, then lowered his head to nuzzle her breasts. 

“Daniel,” she protested, the feel of his mouth on her deeply arousing. 
”Yes?” he looked up.  He licked her nipple.

“Nothing,” she said, her hands on his head.  He laughed and went back to what he was doing. 

 

“I love your body,” he said.  “Every little bit of it.”  He kissed several bits as he spoke, and kept sliding down her body, her hands still on his hair. 

“Daniel, come back up here.”
”Soon,” he promised.  “Well, maybe not too soon.”  The early morning air cool on her body, she felt him open her thighs and hold them wide apart as he bent to her, and as she gasped and arched up into his mouth, she remembered the first time he’d done this.  It had been dark then, too.   And then his tongue snaked into her, sending a ripple of sensation through a line of nerve endings, and she forgot to think at all.

 

Later, much, much later, he settled her on his chest again, his arm around her, and rubbed his face on her hair.

“When will you marry me?” he asked.  “Is tomorrow too soon?”  She laughed, her body vibrating against his.

“Yes,” she said. 

“So when?” Daniel asked.  She was silent for a bit too long.  “Jessie?” he asked, putting his hand under her chin and tilting her face up.  Even in the dark, he could see her eyes.

“I’m thinking,” she said.  “Weighing things up.”
”Weighing what things?” he demanded.  “We want to get married, so let’s get married.”

“It’s not as easy as that,” she insisted.  He sighed.  “No, it isn’t, Daniel. I don’t want to kiss my husband goodbye every morning, knowing that he’s going off to spend the day with naked women!”  There was a brief silence before he laughed. 
”Well, when you put it like that,” he admitted.

“None of the dazzlers are married, are they?” she asked.  He shook his head.  “Or in serious relationships?”
”Apart from Patrick and me?” he said.  “I’m not sure, but I’d be surprised if they are.  The work doesn’t lend itself to that.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed.  “Knowing that when your man is working late, he’s probably having sex with the prisoners does not inspire a great deal of trust, I would think.”  Daniel sighed.

“You know I don’t do that,” he said. 
”Yes, I know,” she said, rubbing her cheek on his chest.  “But I also know that every morning, you lead a naked woman across a stage, tie her down to a bench, spread her legs and spank her backside.  And you use those brushes on naked women, Daniel.  When I was a little girl, I used to think about who I might marry – a fireman, or a policeman, or maybe a doctor.  This sort of employment did not feature, Daniel.” 

 

“So you won’t marry me until I have a new job?” he asked.  It was her turn to sigh.

“I want to,” she said.  “I really want to.  But no, I won’t.”
”And when I do give up this job?” he persisted.  “You’ll marry me then?”
”On the spot,” she assured him. 

“Then we’ll just have to make sure that our strategy works, won’t we?” he said, pulling her closer.  In the dark, his green eyes were determined.  If he’d been motivated to achieve it before, he was totally committed now.

 

……..………..

 

When Brad Clarence got the call, he was immediately suspicious – hopeful, but very suspicious.  He even checked the number the woman had given him to make sure that it really was the right number for the Shame Institute, and then he called it to confirm what he’d been told.  The phone was answered on the second ring, and a man with a strong European accent answered.

“Allo.  Shame Institute.  ‘Ow can I ‘elp you?

“Yes, hello, this is, ahem. This is Bradley Clarence.  I was contacted half an hour ago about taking part in a private shaming of someone who appears to have been inappropriately exonerated of a crime,” he said. 

“Your name again?” the man asked.  Clarence sighed.

“Mr Bradley Clarence,” he said clearly and slowly. 

“Please ‘old for a minute while I check our records,” the man said.  There was a short pause.  Then:  “Oh yes, Mr Clareence.  I see that you have been asked to ‘elp us with Jessica Porter.  Do you not want to do thees?”

“Yes, I want to do thees…I mean, this,” Clarence spluttered.  “I just called to confirm that it was all above board.”
”Above board?” the man repeated. “I am sorry, what does that mean?”
”It means that…oh, never mind,” Clarence said, and hung up. 

 

He smiled.  Finally, the chance was coming, and this time, there was nothing Jessica Porter or her huge boyfriend could do about it, even if he was one of the head people at the Shame Institute.  Obviously, justice was even bigger than he was, and justice, sweet lady that she was, had caught up with Jessica Porter.  And now he, Brad Clarence, was going to have the opportunity to play his part. 

 

The place he drove to was a long way out in the country, but that didn’t surprise him.  They’d made it clear that this was going to be happening away from the Institute and away from civilisation.  Jessica wasn’t going to be there at this meeting.  In fact, she didn’t know anything about it.  He smiled to himself, then thumped his steering wheel in glee.  This was going to be so good.  Almost as good as it would have been to smash his fist into that pretty Cat boy’s face.  His fist clenched again at the thought.  He’d convinced himself that it was only his own admirable restraint that had prevented him from fighting The Cat in Jessica’s house that day.  And beating him, of course.

 

He had to stop twice to consult his directions, but eventually he found the cabin.  His tyres crunched on the gravel as he pulled up, and when he got out, he looked around, noting with approval the lack of neighbours.  It was chilly up here in the mountains.  He imagined it would grow quite cold at night.  Poor Jessica was going to be feeling it all over.  He smiled again, imagining goosebumps all over her body.  He’d keep her nude, chained to the bedpost, lying on the floor.  She’d plead with him for clothes.  She’d plead with him for a lot of things. 

 

The front door of the cabin opened, and a woman came out.  Clarence turned to watch her approach.  She was well worth watching, tall, slim, with long black hair that framed a perfectly made-up face and a tight leather outfit that revealed a very nice figure indeed.  The closer she came, the more cleavage she appeared to have, and he was looking closely and appreciatively by the time she reached him, hand out.  Even her hands were covered in tight black leather, he noted.

“Mr Clarence?” she asked.  He nodded. “I am so pleased to meet you.  Thank you so much for coming all the way out here.”
”Not at all,” he said, shaking her hand awkwardly.  He did wish women wouldn’t shake hands.  It wasn’t appropriate, particularly when they had such strong, firm grips as this woman.

“I’m Amanda,” the woman said.  “Won’t you come in?”  He followed her across the drive and into the cabin.  It smelled of the wood it was made of, and of the fireplace inside.  It was furnished simply, with straight-backed chairs around a basic dining table, a leather sofa and two rocking chairs.  One of them was occupied by a grey-haired, older man, who stood up as they came in.  Clarence couldn’t help but notice the man’s stoop, and straightened his own shoulders automatically.  He didn’t want to end up bent over like that.  The man was feeling the cold, too.  He wore a saggy green cardigan, long thick grey pants, and gloves.  Probably suffering from arthritis, Clarence decided.

 

“Mr Clarence,” the man said.  “Welcome.  I’m sure Amanda has thanked you already, but please, let me add my thanks to that.  I am Gerald Winters, and I am, for want of a better term, in charge of all covert aspects of the Shame Institute.  Please, do sit down.”  The man’s handshake was weak, Clarence noted, making him wonder if he was ill.  Certainly, there seemed to be a lot of lines on his face, and his eyes were faded, almost blurry behind his thick glasses.  He also spoke slowly, as though he were measuring every word.

“I wasn’t aware that the Shame Institute had covert aspects,” Clarence said, sitting down.
”That is because we do our job so well,” Amanda said, sitting on the other rocking chair and crossing her long legs seductively.  Clarence followed the movement instinctively. 

“Now, now, Amanda,” Winters said.  “If we had done our job properly, Miss Porter would not have slipped through the net, and we would not be having to ask so much of Mr Clarence here.  May I call you Bradley?”
”Brad,” Clarence said. 

 

“Brad it is,” Winters said.  “Please, do call me Gerald.  Now, Brad, I understand that Amanda has explained that it appears that strings were pulled inappropriately to have Miss Jessica Porter released from the Institute.” 

“She did explain that,” Clarence said, glancing at Amanda.  He hadn’t imagined that she would be so beautiful.  On the phone she had sounded business-like and formal, not like a gorgeous dominatrix, which is what she looked like now.  He liked the leather and skin look. 

“And she also explained that we are hoping to prevail upon your good nature to provide an alternative form of punishment for Miss Porter.”  Clarence nodded.  “Did she make it clear that this could last for up to two months?” Gerald asked, leaning forward.  His cardigan was buttoned up tightly across his chest, and again Clarence wondered if he were ill.  The more he looked at him, the older he thought he was.  He didn’t like being around ill people.  They made him feel ill as well.  Esther, his mousy little secretary, had had a sniffle the week before, and he’d made her swap jobs with one of the pool typists until she was over it. 

 

“She said one to two months,” he replied, flicking a glance at Amanda, who smiled at him, her dark red lipstick shiny.  “And that you needed me to outline the sorts of treatment I would mete out to Miss Porter.”
”Exactly right,” Gerald said.  “Forgive me for covering old ground.  Amanda is a treasure, but I occasionally forget what I’ve asked her to say, and I tend to want to cross all of the t’s myself.”
”I understand,” Clarence approved.  “I’m an accountant.”  Gerald slapped his own knees.

“Well of course you understand,” he said.  “And it wouldn’t be a problem for you to take two months off?”
”Not at all,” Clarence assured him.  For this, he’d take a year off.  This was an opportunity of a lifetime.  “But…I need to be perfectly clear on this.  Miss Porter will have no choice but to obey me?”
”No choice whatsoever,” Gerald said.  “She will have to obey you in everything.  Either that, or she will spend five to eight years in prison.  I don’t think she’ll like that alternative, do you?”
”No,” Clarence smiled. 

 

“So,” Amanda said, drawing his eyes back to her and her cleavage.  “Can you outline for us what you plan to do to Jessica Porter?”
”Certainly,” he said.  “How much detail do you want?”
”We’ve already established that you and I are men who like detail,” Gerald said.  “So please, as much as you like.” 

 

“Well, I would obviously intend to make it clear to her that she is a slave,” he said.  Gerald nodded.

“And how would you do that?” he asked.

“By depriving her of all manner of things.  The right to choose when she eats, sleeps, goes to the bathroom.  And of clothes, of course.”
”All of them?” Amanda asked.

“Yes,” he said.  “Given how isolated this cabin is, I would deprive her of all of her clothes at all times.”

“It does tend to get cold here,” Amanda said.  Clarence smiled nastily.

“Then she’ll have to work to keep warm, won’t she?”  He noted a quick gleam in Gerald’s faded eyes and guessed that the older man appreciated what he’d just said.  He decided to keep going in the same vein.

 

“When she first arrived, I would make her remove each item of clothing, one at a time, and to take it to a lockable cupboard or box.  Then, I would carefully inspect her without that item of clothing, running my hands all over her.”  Oh, he could imagine it.  He could imagine lifting each of those full breasts, weighing them in his hands, squeezing them, running his fingers over her hard nipples while she took panicky breaths and tried to keep still, unable to tell him to stop, unable to cover herself, unable to get away.  “And then I would make her lock the cupboard or box and bring me the key.  And that’s the last she’d see of them until the time was up.”  He smiled at Gerald, who was looking straight into his eyes. 

 

“Initially, I would be very harsh with her, and would only allow her to move around on all fours, and I would make a point of commenting on her dangling breasts and her exposed parts, and fondling them roughly,” he said.

“You would be an excellent addition to the Shame Institute itself, Brad,” Amanda said.

“Thank you,” he smiled, warming to his theme. “And I would spank her regularly, at least twice a day, and keep her hands tied so she couldn’t cover herself at any time.  Thanks to an…um interest of mine, I have some knowledge of ropes and knots, so there’s no fear that she would work her way free.”
”How would she crawl around on all fours with her hands tied?” Amanda asked.  Gerald made a tsking noise.

“Don’t bother Brad with technicalities, Amanda,” he reproved.  She nodded apologetically.  “No doubt you would expect her to have sex with you,” he prompted.

 

“Definitely,” Brad smiled at him.  “Several times a day, in different positions.  And I’d expect her to perform certain oral duties on me as well.  Mostly she’d do that on her knees, but sometimes I’d lie down and make her straddle me, with her nether regions right in front of my face.  I wouldn’t do anything to her of course, nothing to give her any pleasure, but she’d know, all the time she was working on me, that I was looking right at her privates.”
”Delightful,” Gerald said.  “Anything else?”
”I would make her masturbate before she was allowed to eat,” he said, inspired by the images in his head.  “And she would only ever be able to eat from a bowl on the floor, with her backside up in the air and her legs wide apart.”  Gerald nodded.

“Nice touch,” he said.  “That dehumanising element is always very useful in shaming people.  So, basically, you would just turn her into a sex slave and incorporate some mild corporal punishment and bondage?”

 

“No,” Clarence said, feeling as if Gerald was disappointed in him.  “No, I would take her on forced walks around the countryside, naked, of course, with her hands tied behind her back.  And yes, she would be walking upright,” he added for Amanda’s benefit. “But bare-footed.  And I would take her over rough areas. There are lots of pine trees around here, so I’d take her places with pine needles and pine cones and make her walk over them.” 

“An element of pain as well,” Gerald summarised.  Clarence nodded. 
”And if there’s a stream or a river around here, I’d make her get wet, too, and then walk her back slowly.”
”She might become ill,” Amanda said. 

“Unlikely,” Gerald dismissed.  “She’s a healthy specimen.  A head cold or chest cold would be the worst she’d get, and she clearly deserves more than that.”

“She has a lot of chest,” Clarence attempted a joke.  Gerald lifted one eyebrow. 

“Miss Porter has a rather voluptuous upper body,” Clarence tried again.
”I’ve noticed,” Gerald said.  In order to cover the ‘Oh HAVE you, now?’ vibes he was receiving from the woman beside him, he kept talking.  “Over time, having her breasts dangling as she crawled, or bouncing as she walked, could cause her some discomfort and possibly some sagging.  What would you do about this?”
”Nothing,” Clarence shrugged, sensing that it was a trick question.  “She deserves more than a little discomfort, and so what if she sags?  It’ll be a reminder to her of her crime and punishment.”
”Catchy title for a book, that,” Gerald said, his old eyes amused.  “Tell me, would you use all of her orifices?”

“Yes,” Clarence smiled, his lips pursed.  “I certainly would.  And when I wasn’t using them personally, I would make her keep objects in them.”
”Objects?” Amanda queried.

“I purchased a number of items a few weeks ago, in expectation of something that did not occur,” he said.  “Some vibrating objects, some of them remote controlled, and some other items of differing sizes.  One or two are quite large.” 
”Isn’t it nice to come across someone who’s so well prepared, Amanda?” Gerald asked.

“Indeed it is,” she agreed. “I’ve rarely come across someone who’s so ready.” 

 

“Naturally, I would make her do all of the housework,” Clarence continued, warm with the praise.   “I read a story once about a man who tied a woman up so her legs were wide apart and her hands were rendered useless, and he tied a cloth to her rear quarters.  She had to dip the cloth into a bucket and scrub the whole floor by gyrating her hips.  And then she had to crawl outside and sit down hard on the cloth to squash the water out of it, which of course squished the water up inside her as well.”
”How wonderfully humiliating,” Gerald said.  “And humiliation is, of course, an important part of this process.  Can we rely upon you to come up with new and different ways of humiliating Porter?”
”Oh yes,” Clarence said.  “You can definitely rely on me.  I have this other idea that involves using clamps on her nipples, with a lead attached to them, and I’ll tug her around by that.” 

 

“Would you display her to other people?” Amanda asked conversationally.  She uncrossed those killer legs again, the sheen of black stockings catching the light from the fire.
”Is that allowed?” he instinctively turned to Gerald.

“Around here, certainly,” Gerald said.  “Everyone here is very supportive of our endeavours.”
”Then yes, I would display her at every chance I had,” Clarence said, imagining the possibilities, Jessica pleading with him not to make her go walking nude down the main street of the little hick town he’d driven through.  And him dragging her there, her hands tied behind her back, her breasts taut from the lead and the nipple clamps.  He shifted in his seat. 

 

“Well, I think we have enough,” Gerald slapped his knees again.

“More than enough,” Amanda said.  “But we do have to look after the medical aspects, Gerald.”
”Of course we do,” he said, shaking his head at himself.  “I’m so forgetful at times.  Brad, in the Institute, we always make a point of doing blood tests on the people who help to shame the prisoners, just to make sure they’re not carrying anything contagious.”

“Yes, I had those,” Clarence agreed.  Gerald nodded.

“But for these longer operations, we like to do a bit more. In short, we need to have a look at you and make sure that you’re up to the physical rigours of the task.”
”I am,” Clarence assured him.  Briefly, he remembered the day Jessica Porter had got away from him when he’d tried to kiss her.  He dismissed it.  Here, she wouldn’t be able to.  And she would pay for that day a hundred times over, he vowed.  She’d be begging him to kiss her by the time he was through with her. 

 

“Yes, you look like a strong man,” Gerald blatantly lied.  “But it’s part of the process, I’m sure you understand, so we need you to go into the next room and slip your clothes off.”
”I beg your pardon?” To say Clarence was startled was to understate the matter.

“Just slip your clothes off,” Gerald said. 

“I don’t see how that is necessary,” he sputtered.  Gerald stilled, his smile fading, and he just looked at him for a while and then shook his head.

“Ah well.  Amanda, there is another person on the list, isn’t there?  Brad, I’ll have to ask you to keep all of this confidential, of course.  Thank you so much for coming up.”  Clarence, realising he was being dismissed, looked to Amanda, and back to Gerald.

 

“No,” he said, sensing two delicious months of dominating a naked Jessica Porter slipping away from him.  “No, it’s not a problem.”
”You’re sure now?” Gerald asked, obviously concerned.  “We don’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way.”
”No, I just misunderstood,” he said.  It was his turn to lie.  Gerald nodded. 
”Good,” he said.  “Well, into the next room with you.  Amanda will be in there in a minute.”  Clarence, in the process of standing up, almost sat down again.  Then he swallowed, stood up and nodded. 

“Fine,” he said, walking past the fireplace into the next room. 

 

It was completely bare, except for a large, framed picture on one wall, a picture of Jessica Porter, in fact, and Clarence caught his breath when he saw it.  It showed her facing the camera, topless, looking scared, and was cropped low on her cleavage.  It wasn’t quite low enough to show her nipples, but it was more than enough impetus for him to start removing his clothing quickly.  It must have been one of the photographs they’d taken when she was admitted to the Institute, one of those that didn’t make it to the website.  Well, he’d have lots of photographs of her by the end of those two months, he resolved.  Photographs of every inch of her, no matter how she pleaded and begged to be allowed to cover up and preserve some shreds of modesty.  He might even send some in to the amateur pages of his favourite magazines. 

 

He smiled as he undid his pants.  He walked over to the picture as soon as he was naked, and gave in to the temptation to look down into the frame.  There was no glass on the picture, and he was hoping that the frame was obscuring her nipples, but no such luck.  Ah well, never mind. He’d be seeing them in person soon, and pinching them and nibbling on them and playing with them.  He turned away from the picture.  He’d just as soon not have an erection when Amanda came into the room.

 

“All ready?” Amanda asked, right on cue, opening the door.  He blanched, bringing his hands forward over his groin.

“Yes,” he said.

“Good,” she smiled. “Now, just face that wall, the one with the picture of Porter on it, and stand nice and straight for me so I can check your posture.  Just put your arms at your sides.  There now.  Oh, aren’t you a nice-looking man?”  Clarence, who’d been blushing just a little, straightened his shoulders at that, and tried to suck his belly in. 

“Now facing me,” she said.  “Mmmm.  Shoulders back, Brad.  And then turn again.  Oh, good posture.  I like a man with an erect bearing.”  For a minute he thought she might be mocking his half-erect penis, but he decided he must have been mistaken.  She asked him to turn again, and then back to face the wall. 

 

“Very good.  Now, if you could put your hands behind your head and just shift your feet a little further apart.  Good.  I want to work through some flexibility issues, so just swing your hips from side to side.  That’s it, good.  Now, just move them forward and back a little.  A little harder.” Amanda smiled.  “Think of Porter, and what you’re going to be doing to her with those hips.  Yes, that’s it.  Harder still.”  His penis was growing hard as he moved. 

“I’m sorry about this,” he apologised, embarrassed again.

“Oh please, don’t apologise,” Amanda said.  “It’s so nice to see a man whose equipment functions so well.”  She glanced back at the room she’d come from.  From that look and that statement, Clarence realised that Amanda must be involved with Gerald, and that he wasn’t capable of satisfying her.  It gave him a thrill of superiority to know that a beauty like Amanda was fancying him.  She didn’t have the soft face and big breasts of Jessica Porter, but still. 

 

“Just a bit more on flexibility,” she said.  “Turn around, bend over and just swing your hips from side to side again.  No, don’t shift your feet together, leave them nice and wide.  That’s good.  You know, I often find that men are very slow to learn, but you’re amazingly quick, Brad.” 
”I’ve always been a quick learner,” he commented, looking at the floor as he waggled his bare backside at the wall, feeling it wobble as he moved. 

“Obviously,” she said. “Now, face the wall again, put your hands on your head, and just jump up and down, high as you can, ten times.”  He felt distinctly ridiculous doing this, but he focused on that picture of Jessica Porter and thought about how much more ridiculous she was going to feel.  He resolved on the spot to make her jump around a lot.  He’d get those big boobs of hers bouncing.  He was hard as a rock now, and the jumping up and down was becoming painful.

 

“I’m sorry, that must be uncomfortable,” Amanda said.  “So why don’t you just stand still and hold it, yes, hold your penis in your hand, and rub it a little.  Show me how hard it can get.”
”This is it,” he said, indicating his erection with his spare hand.

“It is?” she asked. “Oh yes, of course it is.  Well, I suppose you can let it go then, can’t you?”  It was odd, but he didn’t even feel embarrassed with her now.  She was just so matter of fact, so…he searched for the word in his head, so professional about it all. 

“Now, I just need to have a look at your musculature,” she said.  “There may be times when you’ll have to carry Porter around, particularly if you’re planning any tight bondage.”  He nodded.  He had a brief memory of that big brute he’d come across in her house, the man from the television show.  He wouldn’t have any trouble picking Jessica Porter up and carrying her around.  But for the next two months, he wouldn’t get the chance.  The only one who was going to be touching her was one Brad Clarence. 

 

“Stand up straight, put your arms out from your shoulders and flex those biceps, Brad.  Oh, very nice.  And just bring your arms forward and tighten your pectorals.  Good, and side on with the same move.  Move over, Mr Universe!”  Brad smiled, knowing she was exaggerating, but preening nevertheless.  He knew he wasn’t in the best of shape, but obviously Amanda didn’t find anything wrong with him.

 

“Now, I just want to test you for reflexes and balance,” she said.  “So I need to tie this blindfold around your head.  Do you mind?”
”Not at all, Amanda,” he assured her, the urbane man about town by now, perfectly comfortable being naked in the presence of this sophisticated woman.  He stood still as she approached him, slightly disconcerted to realise that she was taller than him, but not dwelling on it.  The blindfold completely blacked out all light. 
”Who turned out the lights out?” he quipped, chuckling.  Amanda laughed with him. 

“Now, can you touch your nose with your right index finger?  Very good.  And now with your left index finger?  Excellent.  Now, I need you to put both arms behind your back, cross your wrists over, and link your fingers together.  Can you do that?  My, you are flexible.”  It was stretching his shoulders, but he wasn’t going to admit it. 

 

He felt her hands grasp his wrists, the first time she’d touched him, and he was surprised at how strong her hands felt in the leather gloves.  And how large.  And then he felt a metallic embrace around his wrists instead.

“Amanda?” he asked, alarmed. 
”Yes, Brad?” she replied, and her voice seemed to be coming from the wrong place.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Handcuffing you,” she said calmly, as if it were a normal part of the proceedings.  “And now, we’re hobbling you.”  We? 

“Gerald, is that you?” he asked.  “What are you doing?” He tried to move away, but strong, definitely male hands, yanked his ankles back together, and something metal clicked around them, too.  He tried again to move away, and found that his ankles were being held together by something that felt like a short line of chain. 

 

“Is this a test of my balance?” he tried again. 
”Not quite,” Gerald said.  Then, in a display of strength that Clarence wouldn’t have thought him capable of, the man tipped him over his shoulder and lifted him.  All of a sudden he began to wonder just how old Gerald really was.

“I demand to know what is going on!” he said firmly, trying to wriggle off the very broad shoulder he was pinned against.  Another hand smacked sharply on his upturned buttocks. 
”Settle down, Bradley,” Amanda said.  He was jolted uncomfortably as Gerald carried him through the cabin, out past the fireplace – he felt the heat of it as they went past, and then out into the cool air. 

“Are we outside?” he asked.  “Why are we outside?  I’m naked, for heaven’s sake!”  He was dumped unceremoniously on the ground, on his butt.  He immediately struggled to stand up, but found that it wasn’t an easy thing to manage with his hands tied behind him and his ankles hobbled.


”What’s going on?” he asked  “Gerald?  Amanda?”  Perhaps it was a test?  Perhaps they were seeing how he’d handle an emergency.  He took a deep breath, then another, forcing himself to calm down.  Well, he could handle emergencies.  He heard them walking away, their shoes crunching on the gravel, and he shifted a bit. That gravel was sharp on his bare backside.  Their footsteps came back, crunching again, and he heard his car doors opening. 

“What are you doing?” he asked again.  “I’m calm, if that’s what you’re testing me for, but I would like to know what’s happening.”  There was the sound of a powerful car engine – not his, starting up from somewhere round the back of the cabin, he thought, and then the crisp roll of tyres over the gravel.  Footsteps approached him again, and someone bent down to him.

 

“You’re right, Brad,” Gerald’s voice said in his ear.  “We’re testing you.  We’re testing you for your ingenuity and your survival skills.  If you pass this test, the two months with Jessica Porter will be all yours, and you’ll be able to live out every one of your fantasies about her.  Think about that beautiful, lush body of hers.  I’ve seen it, Brad.  I saw it when she was brought into the Institute.  She has the loveliest breasts you can imagine, full and high and pale-skinned, with pink nipples that go rock hard when she’s embarrassed.  Her bush is silky soft and just a bit lighter than the hair on her head, and her butt is plump and round and…” There was a clearing of someone’s throat – Amanda’s obviously, off to the side, and Gerald stopped talking.  He patted Brad on the head.

 

“Think about that,” he said. “It’ll help you to get through this.  Now, Amanda is going to drive your car all the way down this track, away from the town you drove through.  It’ll take you at least an hour to get there.  When you do get there…listen carefully Brad, stop protesting and listen.  When you get there, your car keys will be under the front driver’s side tyre.  You’ll have to sit on the ground to get them, but then you’ll be able to unlock the car door.  We’ll take the battery out, so the keyless entry won’t work.  Inside the car, under the passenger seat, you’ll find the keys to the handcuffs and hobbles, and you’ll be able to free yourself.  You won’t find your clothes, unfortunately, because we’re taking them with us, but you’ll be in your car anyway.  As long as you don’t get stopped by the police, you’ll be fine, so drive very carefully, Brad, won’t you? It might be difficult to explain, otherwise.” 

 

“Gerald, I don’t think that I…”
”Don’t think, Brad,” Gerald advised.  “Just get moving, because it does get cold around here.  You might find it a mite uncomfortable if you’re naked in the great outdoors for too long.  It’ll be hard enough to pick up those car keys and use them without having numb fingers.”
”But the blindfold,” Clarence was panicking now.  
”Will come off if you rub it against something,” Gerald said.  “A tree, a door handle, whatever.  You’re an inventive man, Brad.  You demonstrated that when you ran through all of those things you’re going to do to Porter.  You’ll work it out.”
”What sort of safety measures do you have in place?” Clarence asked.  He was lucky he didn’t see the smile on ‘Gerald’s’ face at that question. 

“Enough to protect anyone who matters,” he was told.  “Better get started, Brad.  Night comes earlier out here in the country.  Good luck, man.  You can look forward to hearing from us soon.” 

 

The footsteps sounded again, one set in one direction, the other in the opposite direction, and then two car engines started up, one of them his own.  He chewed his lip and struggled to stand up, shifting his legs and rolling to one side, the gravel digging into him as he levered for balance.  He rolled over onto his knees, butt waving about as it had in the room inside, and just managed to get one foot flat on the ground as he heard the cars driving away.  Damn them.  Damn them and their stupid tests.  He staggered to his feet and turned around, trying to sense where the cabin was.  He didn’t want to wander off into the trees and get lost, after all.   

 

He got lucky first time, bumping into the cabin, and he spent a frustrating few minutes working his way along it trying to find the front door, only to find that they’d shut it.  He had to turn around and edge himself up on his toes to reach the handle, but he managed it, and stumbled inside with a sense of achievement.  Now for the blindfold. 

 

It took a long time, but with the aid of the knob at the back of one of the rocking chairs he eventually dragged the blindfold up over one eye, and then the rest of the way off.  He had never appreciated sight more.  The fire had been put out, but he moved closer to it anyway, craving the warmth.  Already, even inside, his skin was cool.  He knew he had to get going fast.  A quick look at the hobbles had confirmed what he’d already suspected, that there was no way he was getting those off without the key.  And the key was a long way down the road, in his car.  Damn them.  He went towards the door, in the little shuffling steps that were all the hobbles would allow, but at the last minute decided to have another look at his inspiration for all of this effort. 

 

He made his way into the other room, realising that it was going to be the bedroom, the room in which he was going to have Jessica Porter any way he wanted.  And she was going to pay for every cold, uncomfortable moment he experienced today, he resolved.  He looked up at the wall, wanting to see that scared face again and all of that creamy cleavage again.  And froze.  The picture was gone.  Behind it, was a round hole in the wall, just big enough for…  Dear God.  They wouldn’t have filmed him, would they?

 

He looked at the spot he’d stood at before, turning around, jumping up and down, flexing his muscles, for heaven’s sake.  He shook his head to clear the image.  It was a test.  It had to be a test.  It was too dreadful to contemplate any alternative.  He’d checked with the Shame Institute hadn’t he?  He knew it was legitimate.  Taking a deep breath, he made his way out of the room and back through the other room to the front door.  He had a quick look around the small cabin.  Here, he would make his dreams come true.  Here, Jessica Porter would learn what it was to be his slave in every sense of the word.  With that sustaining thought, and a smile on his face, he turned and headed off on the long, slow, exposed walk towards his car and the keys.

 

Two miles away, ‘Amanda’ pulled Brad Clarence’s car off to the side of the track and got out.  “Gerald’ was already leaning against the side of a dark blue Jaguar.  He grinned as she approached, shaking her head and running her fingers through her own short hair, in which traces of red were starting to show at the roots. 

“Take that wig off,” she ordered, reaching for it.  “And the glasses.”
”Forget the glasses, those cloudy contact lenses were killing me,” Patrick said.  “I had to take them out before I drove down here.  I could hardly see.  And my shoulders were cramping up from staying stooped over like that.”
”Poor darling,” Angela said, going up on tiptoes to kiss him.  “Let’s get that makeup off you.  I want my smooth-cheeked lady-killer back.”
”You don’t like me as an old man?” Patrick asked, the makeup cracking as he grinned again.  Amanda dragged the wig off him and ruffled up his golden curls. 

“I loved you as an old man,” she assured him.  “You were amazing.”

”So were you,” he laughed.  “Clarence just about fell into your cleavage.  Look at it.  It’s so impressive.  I wouldn’t mind diving in myself.”
”It’s amazing what a push-up bra can do,” she agreed, looking down. “This leather is not comfortable, Patrick.”
”Tell me about it,” he said, putting the glasses in his shirt pocket.  “I wear it every morning, remember?”

“And get paid for it,” she reminded him.  His hands clamped on her leather-clad butt and pulled her hard against him.

“I’ll pay you, sugar,” he said suggestively.  “How much do you want?”  She laughed and kissed him back when he lowered his face to hers.  She protested a little as he tugged the leather up and played with her panty-hose covered backside, but only a little. 

 

“That was such a rush,” she said, sliding her own hands under the hideous green cardigan, under the practical shirt, to feel the smooth, strong, warm body underneath.

“Want another?” he asked. 

“Watcha got in mind?” she asked, her smiling mouth inches from his own.  He smiled back, blue eyes bright again.

“Ever done it on a Jaguar?” he asked. 

“Not yet,” she said, game for anything when he looked like that.  “Do you think we have time?”  Patrick laughed. 
”Brad is going to be a long while yet,” he said, lifting her and seating her on the long bonnet of his car.  “We’ve got all the time in the world.”  She yelped.

 

“That’s cold!” she protested.
”And it’s going to get just a bit colder yet,” he said, tugging her pantyhose down.  Mmmm.  I do like what you’ve got on under these.” 

“Absolutely nothing,” she said.
”My favourite,” he agreed.  “Too cold, babe?”  She shook her head and held her arms out to him as he dragged the pantyhose and her shoes off. 

“I’m counting on you to warm me up,” she said. 

 

……………

 

Almost two hours later, covered in goosebumps and sweat, Brad Clarence came into view, taking tiny little steps that caused his genitals, shrunken with cold, to jiggle about, along with his big, pale belly and his wobbly backside.  He’d had a long walk, and had been conscious with every step just how ridiculous he must look.  Under his breath the whole way, he’d been praying that no-one would come along the track and see him like this.  He gasped with relief when he saw his car, and put on speed, catching himself just before he fell.  The grazes on his knees and thighs bore testament to the number of times he’d already fallen over, and the winces he was giving as he put his feet down demonstrated that his soft feet had taken a bit of a beating as well. 

 

“Driver’s side tyre,” he was saying to himself.  “Driver’s side tyre.”  He backed up to that side of the car, jumping as his skin came into contact with the cold metal, and slid down to the ground, reaching around frantically until his fingers touched the keys.  An old hand by now at standing up in his restraints, he did that efficiently, but his numb fingers caused him to drop the keys twice before he managed to get them into the lock and turn them.  Then, he had to work his way around to the other side of the car, open the door, and awkwardly lean in backwards, pelvis thrust high and waving around outside of the car as he felt around with his hands behind his back, for the keys that were under the seat. 

 

A frustrating twenty minutes later, having actually screamed in annoyance several times, he finally heard the click of the key in the cuffs, and was able to bring his aching shoulders forward.  It only took a stretch over his protruding belly to reach the leg hobbles, and he was free. 

“There. I passed your stupid test,” he said to no-one.  He stood up and looked around.  No-one in sight.  He was pleased beyond measure that he hadn’t been seen by anyone on that humiliating, endless trek down to the car, and even more pleased that his efforts to free himself from the cuffs had gone unwitnessed.  He’d almost had to tie himself in knots, and all of that nude wriggling about on the dirt had been neither dignified nor comfortable.


But now he was free – or at least free to climb naked into his car, turn the engine and the blessed heat on, and set off home, wondering as he went how long it would be before he got the call to signify that Jessica Porter’s travails at his hands were about to begin.  He could hardly wait. 

 

………..……….

 

“How long should we wait?” Angela asked, nestled in Patrick’s arms and lying across his chest in the front seat of his car, parked in a clearing in the bush to the side of the track.  They’d had to drive a little further up the track to get to the entrance, but it had been perfect.  They’d had a clear view of Brad Clarence’s gyrations, had even made bets on how long it would take him.  Patrick had lost.  He’d thought it would take at least another ten minutes. 

“’’Alf an ‘our or so,” Patrick said, with the accent he’d used when Clarence had called the Shame Institute.  “Why?  You in a ‘urry to get somewhere, leetle girl?”  She smiled and shook her head against his shoulder. 

“Just wondering if we had time for you to pay up on that bet,” she said.  He laughed softly. 

 

“It’s a little cramped in here,” he pointed out.  “Particularly for someone of my height.”  She shook her head again.
”Excuses, excuses,” she said.  She edged her hand down between them, playing with the fly of the jeans he now wore.  The cardigan was in a bag on the floor now, along with the old man’s shirt, replaced by a t-shirt and a leather jacket. 

“I couldn’t believe it when you told him to play with himself until he was hard when he already was,” Patrick laughed.  “You bitch.  I almost laughed out loud, which would definitely have given away the fact that I was hiding behind the wall.  I don’t think even he would have been gullible enough to believe us if he’d seen me holding the camera.”
”And he didn’t even realise I’d insulted him,” she agreed, eyes dancing.  “What a prize he is.” 
”And such an attractive man, too,” Patrick said. 

“You don’t have to be gorgeous to be likable,” Angela pointed out.  He nodded, his chin against her hair.

“I know,” he said.  “A lot of good-looking people are rotten to the core, but man, he is a piece of work.”

 

“What are you going to do with that screen picture of Jessie?” she asked.  He shrugged.

“Give it to Daniel, maybe,” he said.  “I deleted the original photographs off the system. Jake had already cleared most of them, and there were only those few in the cache.” 
”There are lots of me on the system,” she said.  “But it’s okay.  I can live with it.”
”You don’t have to,” he said, shifting her in his arms so he could lean down and touch his lips to hers.  “They’re not there any more either.”
”You deleted them?” she asked.  He nodded, grinning.

“I love you,” she said, without even thinking about it.  His grin turned to a smile, a soft, genuinely pleased smile. 

“I love you too,” he said.  It was the first time they’d both said it and meant it.  He kissed her, their mouths fitting together with the ease of practice. 

“But I don’t ever want to hear you talking about Jessie’s body like that again,” she said.  He laughed. 
”I had to make it real for him,” he said. 

“I was more concerned that you were making it real for yourself,” she replied.  “Calling on a number of very inappropriate memories, I’m sure.”
”They’re fading as we speak,” he promised. 

 

“I can’t believe some of the things he wanted to do to her,” she said. 
”I wanted to throttle the bastard,” Patrick agreed, eyes darkening.  “Sweet, pretty, clever little Jessie.  Why would he want to do so many dreadful things to her?”

“She rejected him,” Angela said.  “I’m betting that’s not an experience you’ve ever had, lover.  It upsets some men, particularly ones who think they’re better than everyone else.”  There was a silence while Patrick decided whether he really wanted to ask what he was thinking.  Angela looked up at him and guessed.

”Yes, two of the extras for me were men I’d rejected,” she said.  “One of them was an ex-boss who’d told me he’d sack me if I didn’t sleep with him. I’d told him to go to hell and got myself another job.  The other one was the ex-husband of a friend.  He’d propositioned me the whole time they were married, but I wasn’t interested.  He used to hit her.  He was a horrible man.”  Patrick looked away, looked out the window.

“I’m so sorry, Angie,” he said quietly.  She let herself feel the bile of bitterness in her throat one last time, let herself remember what it was like to have to bare herself, give herself to those men, and to the other one, the colleague who’d claimed she’d stolen his stories.  And then she looked up at Patrick, and let it go. 

 

“It’s alright now,” she said.  She reached up and stroked his cheek, feeling just the hint of beard growth coming through.  “It really is.” 

“I hate to think about it,” he said, still looking out the window.

“Then don’t,” she said.  “I’m not going to any more.”  He moved at that, looking back at her. 
”No?” he asked.  She smiled.

“No,” she said.  “Enough with the past.  It’s time to move on.” 

“With me?” he asked, and there was a lot more behind that simple question than the words he used.  Angela’s smile broadened.

“We’re partners in crime now,” she said.  “We have no choice.  We’re stuck together.”  He bent his head and kissed her, a lush, full-blown expression of his passion, his tenderness and his love for her. 

“Mmmm, you do that so well,” she said when he let her up for air.  She tilted her head back against his shoulder again and sighed. 

 

“Happy?” he asked. 

“Very,” she said.  “I wonder how long our friend Brad will wait for the call before he realises he’s been had?” 

“Who knows,” Patrick said.  “And we have all of that film as protection if he ever decides to try to do anything about it.”
”It’s so nice to see you using your powers for good,” she said, kissing him again.  At that, he

slipped an arm under her legs and lifted her back onto the passenger seat.

“What?” she asked.  “Are we going?”

“Not yet,” he said, leaning across her to press the recline button.  She sank slowly backwards, a smile easing onto her lips as she guessed his intent.  His long fingers hooked under the stretchy dress she now wore, tugging it up higher and higher, revealing quite a lot of Angela. Then he eased those fingers into her panties and drew them down, waiting while she lifted her hips to let him get them out from under her.  He tossed them over his head, and they landed over the steering wheel.

 

“I decided to pay up on that bet after all,” he said, leaning lower to kiss her upper thighs, pressing his face into her soft, white skin.

”But you said there wasn’t room,” she said, lifting her hips again and catching her breath as he moved higher.  He shifted his weight, and turned his head to smile up at her. 

“I’ll make room, Princess,” he said, easing her legs apart and working his way up, tortuously and expertly.  

 

……………………..

 

 

Daniel put his head in his hands and laughed until tears ran down his face when they told him. 

“Oh God,” he said, one hand on his stomach.  “Stop it.  I’m going to be sick if I don’t stop laughing.”
”You are sick!” Jessie said.  “You’re all sick!  Angie, how could you do that?”  They had all slipped into the habit of calling her ‘Angie’ now, and she’d accepted it.   

“Don’t you dare go all ethical on us, Jessie,” her friend said.  “He deserved it, and you know it.”
”Yes, but…”
”If you even think about saying ‘two wrongs don’t make a right’, I will treat you to your own personal experience of the ‘Shame Game’ experience, young lady,” Patrick said firmly, blue eyes alight with laughter.  “On my own, of course, because The Cat appears to be curling up and dying.”
”I am,” Daniel assured him, still catching his breath.  “Oh God, I don’t believe you did that.  How far did he have to walk like that?”
”About two miles,” Angela said.  “And it was cold.  Terribly cold.  Poor dear.”  She smiled sweetly as she said it.

 

“He got home alright?” Jessie asked, keeping a careful eye on Patrick. She knew he was joking about spanking her.  Well, she was almost positive he was.  You never knew with Patrick. 
”We made sure he had enough gas in his tank so he didn’t have to stop to fill up.  And I haven’t heard about any men being arrested for driving around in the nude,” Angela said.  “I do hope he had an undercover garage.  Otherwise his neighbours would have been treated to quite a sight.”

“Ewww,” Jessie said.

“Exactly,” Angela agreed. “You should see the film.”
”No!” Jessie responded automatically.

 

“I want to see the film,” Daniel said.  “Man, I haven’t laughed that much since the last time Jessie tied me down and tickled me with the feather duster.” 
”Tried to tie you down,” Jessie said bitterly.  “He escaped,” she explained to Angela.  “And retaliated in kind.”

“You need handcuffs,” Angela said. 

“No she doesn’t,” Daniel disagreed.

“Yes she does,” Angela smiled sweetly. “I’ll buy her some.” 

“Remind me that I really did spank your bare butt on national television once,” Daniel responded.  Angela narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You’ll pay for that,” she said.  He grinned. 

“Believe her,” Patrick said.  “The woman has a memory like an elephant.  What are you doing, Jessie?”

 

“I’m planning to hug Angie,” Jessie said.  “No, not because of what Daniel just said, but to say thank you.  The two of you went to such a lot of trouble, and even if I…I’m sorry Patrick, even if I really believe that two wrongs don’t make a right, I do appreciate it, and I love you both.”  Angela stood up and hugged her. 

“Our pleasure,” she said.  “Some parts of it were a real pleasure.”  Her eyes met Patrick’s over Jessie’s shoulder. 

“Do I get a hug too?” he asked.

“You do,” Jessie said, turning from Angela to lean down to him.  He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, lifting her off her feet and onto his lap. 

“Nothing I like better than a soft woman to hug,” he said, holding her tight as she wrapped her arms around his neck.  He put resolutely out of his mind all of the things Clarence had said he wanted to do to her. 

“Me too,” Daniel complained.  “So give her back.” 
”In a minute,” Patrick said.  “Unfinished business, first.  Where do you think you’re going, Jessie?  No, I don’t think so.” He’d let her stand up, but caught her wrist and tugged her back down, tipping her face forward over his lap.  “There’s just a small matter of you saying something I specifically instructed you not to say.  How many should she get, Cat?”

 

“You don’t scare me, you know,” Jessie said, struggling to get up.  Patrick patted her bottom.

“Brave words for someone in your position, sweetheart,” he teased.  “These shorts are quite thin, aren’t they?”
”Let her up,” Angela said, advancing on him.  In turn, Daniel caught her around the waist and pulled her to him.  Jessie, never one to give in without a fight, was engaged in dragging the leg of Patrick’s jeans up, and was pulling at the hairs on his legs. 
”Ow!” he laughed, reaching down to grab her wrists.  He pulled them up, pinning them in the small of her back. 

 

“Make him let me go, Daniel!” she ordered.

“Bossy little thing, isn’t she?” Patrick commented.
”You have no idea,” Daniel replied. 

“Handcuffs,” Jessie said threateningly.  Daniel laughed.

“Make it ten, King,” he said.

“Not if you want to sleep in my bed tonight,” Angela said.  Patrick, his hand poised over Jessie’s backside, looked at her.

“You don’t mean that, Angie,” he said. 
”Yes I do,” she assured him. 

“Awwwww,” he complained, looking down at Jessie, then back up at Angela.  He sighed, and met his brother’s amused eyes.  “You’ll have to do your own disciplining, Daniel.” 

“Dear me,” Daniel responded, grinning at Jessie, who was glaring up at him.  “How ever will I cope?”

 

……………….

 

 

Late that night, sitting in his favourite chair in a darkened room, Brad Clarence turned his favourite television program on.  He was tired and sore from his exertions, but he wasn’t going to miss ‘The Shame Game’.  Particularly now he was virtually on staff with the Institute himself.  Not that he was being paid, well, not in a monetary sense, anyway.  He probably should have asked for payment, he decided.  They needed him, after all, and after that exhaustive testing process, he certainly deserved payment.

 

But still.  Jessica Porter was going to be his.  He could almost feel that warm, soft body in his hands, could almost see it when he shut his eyes.  Right now, she was probably in bed, giving herself to the man he could see on the screen in front of him, the tall dark-haired man known as ‘The Cat’.  Well, that would stop very soon.  And she would pay for it.  Clarence smiled wearily, and forced his eyes to stay open. 


The woman tonight was a blonde, although her bush was dark.  Heaven knew why she hadn’t just shaved it off.  That was something he intended to do to Jessica.  And every two days or so, he’d do it again, he’d make her lie on a table with her legs wide apart while he ran the razor over her, and his fingers over her.  He put his hand comfortably on his growing penis.  Good times ahead for little Brad as well as big Brad, he mused happily.

 

“…and she certainly does have some assets, doesn’t she?” the other man, the blonde one was saying.  Clarence laughed, as much at the look on the woman’s face as at the joke.  Yes, she did have assets, big, bouncy breasts that were pointing right at the camera as she stood there, hands behind her neck, face red.

“And speaking of ass,” King Dazzler continued.  “Time to spank some.  Bring it over here, Smith.”  As he spoke, the camera moved in tight on his face.  “This is the part I really enjoy,” he said, with the hint of a smile. 

 

Clarence frowned suddenly, disconcerted by a quick sense of unease.  There was something, just something about that face and that smile that suddenly seemed very familiar, and now that he thought about it, even the voice seemed to strike a chord.  He tried to dismiss it.  Certainly there could be no connection between the tall, strong, vibrant-looking man on the screen in front of him and the frail, stooped Gerald he had met today.  Could there?  What was it?  Was it the jaw, the shape of the nose?  Gerald, for all of his grey hair and poor dress sense, had been a good-looking old man, but he’d had lines on his face, nothing at all like the smooth, taut skin of the man on his television.

 

Things, other worrying, niggling little things popped into Clarence’s head.  Makeup, he thought to himself.  Makeup could give lines, and a wig could turn a young man into an old man.  Then, there was the sensation of being carried out of the cabin by Gerald.  If he hadn’t seen the older man, Clarence would have certainly assumed that he was being lifted by a much younger man, a fit, athletic man.  Finally, there was the memory of something he’d read recently, that King Dazzler and The Cat were actually brothers.  So they’d be probably be close.  They’d probably do just about anything for each other. 

 

Clarence fought the rising panic in his stomach.  There was no need to work himself up like this, not when everything was just coming together.  This was just his cautious brain, playing tricks on him, telling him to be careful.  Well yes, he would be careful.  Tomorrow, he was going to ring the Institute and he was going to talk to the man in charge.  The resolution made him feel marginally better. 

 

But there was denying that the edge had gone off his pleasure in watching the shaming of the woman on the television screen.