Chapter Four

“Wake up, baby doll!” Patrick said as he shook her the following morning. “Look at you. Anyone would think you hadn’t had enough sleep.” Jessie looked at him through her fringe and through half-open eyes.

“You are a bad dream,” she muttered. “If I close my eyes, you’ll disappear.” He laughed.

“Afraid not,” he said. He took hold of the bedclothes and dragged them off her. “Oh, aren’t you sweet in the morning, all rumpled and naked.” She grabbed pillows and attempted to cover herself with them, and he let her get away with it while he unwrapped the bandage from her ankle. Then he tugged the pillows off her and scooped her up into his arms.

“Into the shower with you,” he said. “Rumpled and naked is cute, but you might want to change the look before we head over for the taping of the show.” That woke her up, even more than the uncomfortable sensation of once more being naked in his strong arms.
”I’m going to the show?” she asked, her voice still croaky with sleep.

“Yes,” he said. “Cinderella, you ARE going to the ball.”
”When you say I’m going to the show…” she began. He dumped her into the shower stall and slid the door closed between them.

“Shower!’ he ordered. He hung around while she washed quickly, soaping up and rinsing off in record time because she didn’t want to cross him too much. He seemed very easy-going, but this was King Dazzler after all. After the Governor, he was the most powerful man in the Institute. It’d be wise to show him some respect. He handed her a towel when she came out.

“So, great night or great night?” Patrick asked, sitting on the closed toilet seat. She flushed from her hair line down to her breasts. She was not going to discuss that if she could help it. He kept teasing. “Tell me, how did you like sweaty, slippery, everything shaking from your toes to the top of your head sex?” She noted the direct quote from the night before and decided that it would take extreme torture to make her admit to him that she’d experienced just that with the mystery lover.

“You haven’t had a report already?” she avoided the question. He grinned.

“No,” he said. “I haven’t seen any of the dazzlers this morning. Russ is usually up bright and early, but I haven’t seen him run past yet. We have a late briefing on Tuesday, so they must all be sleeping in.”
”Russ?” she asked. He nodded, his grin fading to a wicked smile that played at the corner of his lips.

“The exerciser,” he said. “He runs before he takes the exercise gang out. Amazingly fit man. His powers of endurance are phenomenal.”

“The one who looks like a surfer?” she asked, her voice shaky. That was who had been with her the night before? The one who’d made her stand in the display position?

“That’s him,” Patrick said. “Now, I’ve got one of Jake’s shirts for you. Technically I should keep you in the shortie, but I’ve decided to be magnanimous today. Perhaps you can work out a way to thank me later.” She ignored that and reached for the thick, dark blue shirt he was holding out. It felt heavenly on her, and it reached almost to her knees. She felt almost fully dressed.

“Can you walk okay?” he asked. She tested herself with a few short steps. It was still tender, but a lot better than it had been.

“I think so,” she said.

“Good,” he said. “I’ll wrap your ankle up again for you in a minute. I’ve made you some toast you can eat on the way. Clean your teeth first, there’s a good girl. Sex is good for you, but it’s not the best breath freshener.”

“You’d know,” she added without thinking, and wasn’t totally surprised when his big hand smacked lightly across her backside. “Sorry,” she mumbled. So much for showing him some respect.

“So you should be,” he said, but she could hear the laughter in his voice.

She glanced at the screens on the living room wall as they left, and saw that screen after screen focused on the cells. Then she looked closer, horrified. In almost every cell, a woman was lying on her bed naked, her knees drawn up to her chest, her genitals clearly on display through the glass wall that was all that separated her cell from the corridor.

“How long do they have to hold that position?” Jessie asked through a suddenly tight throat. She could all too easily imagine herself having to do that.

“Not long,” Patrick said. “There are two doctors working their way along, and the dazzlers make sure that no woman has to stay presented like that for more than five minutes at a time.” Five minutes? Five minutes lying like that, everything spread open, for anyone walking down the corridor to see?

“Did Sienna Mallow have to do that?” she asked. Patrick nodded.

“Sienna’s morning examinations were all filmed,” he said. “In glorious, colourful detail. She had the most recognisable pussy in the country for the duration of that series.” Jessie’s throat tightened even more.

In one cell, a nude woman was seated on a toilet, hands behind her neck, a dazzler standing only a few steps away. In yet another, the back of a white-coated man was framed by the bent legs of one of the prisoners. When he straightened up, tugging a rubber glove off his hand, Jessie saw that it was the extremely unpleasant doctor the Governor had referred to as Frank.

“You said ‘morning examination’?” she queried, recovering her voice.

“The prisoners are checked over every morning,” Patrick explained. “To make sure that they haven’t been injured by their activities from the day before, or by their nocturnal visitors. Every extra has to have blood checks before we let them near the women, but we always like to confirm that they haven’t bruised them or left them hurting.”

”And if they have?” she asked.

“We have all sorts of magic treatments,” Patrick said. “Frank had a hand in developing some of them himself. He’s a scientist as well as a doctor. Very bright man.”
”He uses baby talk,” Jessie said sullenly. Patrick laughed.

“Diddums,” he said. “Did Fwank embawwass poor widdle Jessie?” She risked a glare at him. Fortunately, it just made him laugh more. Then he aimed the console at the screen and clicked the button that transmitted sound from the cell the doctor was walking into.

“This is Norton,” Patrick said. “She‘s a university lecturer who made a lot of money selling exam papers to students over several years. They were almost always the wrong papers, though, and since the students didn’t want to admit they’d paid for papers, she got away with it for a long time. One of them turned her in this year. She’s thirty-eight years old, a natural blonde with a bit of grey coming through, and she makes a funny little squeaking noise when she orgasms.” Jessie did not want to know how he knew that. To avoid having to look at him, she looked at the screen.

“Ahhh, Nipples Norton!” the doctor was saying. “How are those titties this morning? Come on, up you get, let me get a good look at those big nippies. Kneel up on the bed and stick them out for me. Show them off.” He put an open tub of something down on the edge of the bed.

The woman’s hair was cut almost brutally short, and she had a sharp, striking face that was more handsome than pretty. Her breasts were larger than average and were sagging a little under their own weight. And her nipples were huge, and almost red in colour.

“There they are,” the doctor chuckled heartily. “No-one’s going to miss those nipples, Norton. I call her ‘Nipples Norton’,” he said to the dazzler who had walked in behind him.

“I can see why,” the dazzler said.

“You had an extra with you last night, didn’t you, Nipples?” the doctor consulted his chart. “I’m guessing that he gave these boobies a lot of attention.” He lifted one of her breasts as he spoke, and began squeezing it gently, bending down to inspect its tip at close quarters.

“Yes, he did,” the woman said. Her face was flushed, the pale pink colour travelling down her neck.

“Lots of licking and sucking?” the doctor asked. She nodded her head. He looked up into her face.

“Speak, Nipples,” he said. “When you nod, it shakes your titties about, but I can’t hear you. Now, was there lots of licking and sucking?”

”Yes,” she said. “And he used his teeth, too.”
”He nibbled on your nipples? Dear dear,” the doctor didn’t sound at all sympathetic. He turned his attention to her other breast, inspecting it thoroughly. He turned to the dazzler. “Cream C for those, applied lavishly every hour,” he said. “Make sure it’s rubbed right in. As usual, it’ll tingle, so she should have her hands tied so she can’t be tempted to rub it off. And don’t let her wear anything for twenty-four hours.” He turned back to the prisoner.

“Back in presentation position, Nipples,” he said. “Let’s have a look at all of your privates.” Obediently, she shifted herself back into position, on her back, knees drawn up and apart. The doctor moved away, leaving her exposed and open, picked up the chair and came back, sitting down between her splayed thighs.

“Outer labia look fine,” he said, manipulating them. “And inner labia as well, but the clitoris…don’t jump, Nipples. I have to touch to make sure everything’s alright. The clitoris looks as if it’s seen some rough action. More tongue work from your visitor?”
”Yes,” the woman said.

“Cream B on the clitty,” he said to the dazzler. “Applied every four hours. It’ll tingle even more than the other cream, so it’s just as well her hands are going to be tied. Now let’s check out the hidden treasures.” He pulled rubber gloves onto his hands with the ease of practise, then leaned in, his forearms on her inner thighs as he opened her up with the fingers of one chubby hand. He reached over to one side and dipped the fingers of the other hand into the tub he’d carried in with him and then proceeded to slide those fingers into her. Jessie looked away, her nether regions tightening in sympathy, in memory of the pelvic exam the doctor had performed on her less than two days before.

“Tender?” the doctor was asking.
”Yes,” the woman replied, her voice thin. “Very.”
”More Cream B,” the doctor said. “And make sure that it’s applied thoroughly, to every nook and cranny in here. She’ll have to get into this position every time to make sure whoever is applying it can get right in. Every four hours for that, too. You’re going to have a lot of attention today, Nipples.” He withdrew his fingers, stood up and looked down at her, still splayed open.

“Done a wee wee this morning?” he asked.
”Yes,” she said, her voice tight.
”And when was your last bowel movement? And don’t lie this time, Nipples. You know what happened last time.”
”He scheduled an enema for her for three days running,” Patrick said. “Only a warm water one, but it’s still not pleasant. And since the toilet is right there, where everyone can see it, we generally tend to know whether they’re telling the truth.” Jessie swallowed hard. Somehow, having to perform toilet functions in full view seemed almost as big an invasion of privacy as having to lie in that gynaecologic stretch on the bed.

“Before breakfast yesterday,” the woman said. The doctor nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Roll on over anyway, and I’ll have a feel up there to make sure everything’s as it should be. That’s it, wiggle those big botty cheeks for me. I swear you always give them an extra wiggle just for Doctor Frank. And open up those legs now, wide as they’ll go. No point in being coy now. We’ve seen it all, and we’re going to see it all again, aren’t we? Yes we are.” He stopped his nonsensical talk only long enough to pull on another rubber glove. Then he put his other hand on the woman’s backside. And squeezed. The woman squirmed. The doctor turned to the dazzler and winked.
”I forgot that Nipples’ big bottom is ticklish,” he said. “Here we go. Coochy coochy coo.” He tickled under her buttocks and up between them, while the woman helplessly swung her hips from side to side and giggled foolishly. “And tickly tickly, under there too,” he said, pudgy fingers delving between her legs as well. He chuckled as the nude woman shifted position, trying to escape his fingers.

”Ah well, I have so many other naughty, naked girlies to get to,” he gave up with obvious regret. Another dip of his fingers into the tub of lubricant. “Now push down hard, as if you’re going to the toilet. Have you noticed how, when they do that, they open up all of their labia as well?” he asked the dazzler as he prodded a finger inside the woman’s clenching buttocks.

“I have,” the dazzler said. “It all flares out.”
”It does,” the doctor agreed. “Just in case there were any secret little places we hadn’t already seen.”

“Unlikely,” Patrick commented. He hit the sound button, to Jessie’s relief. “His bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired,” he conceded. “And he’s overly fond of enemas. As you can see.” The doctor had obviously decided that Norton was getting one this morning after all, and as Jessie watched, she lowered her top half down, leaving her backside up in the air, legs still apart. The dazzler, rubber glove in place, was approaching her with a clear plastic bag hung on a metal stand, a narrow hose running out of it.

“Enough, I think,” Patrick said. “I’ve administered scores of those myself, and I have to say that it’s not my favourite part of the job. Let’s go spank some butt on national television.”

………………………

They walked slowly to the studio, and he carried her over the track because of her lack of shoes. He was being astonishingly considerate, and she was finding it very unsettling. The studio was nothing like she would have expected. For a start, it was just a huge metal shed from the outside. Inside, the set was bright and garish, with lots of lights, lots of wires and lots of technical people. The audience hadn’t been brought in yet, so she could see row after row of chairs angled up towards the back to ensure everyone had a good view of the stage. There were also two massive screens off to the sides, for close-ups. Jessie shuddered involuntarily.

“Cold?” Patrick asked. She looked down at the man’s shirt that was all she wore and thought about trying for more clothes. Her honest nature intervened.

“No,” she said. He smiled.

“Come backstage,” he invited. “We need to get ready.”
”We?” she asked, instantly worried. His smile turned to a grin.

“Not you,” he relented. “The Cat and me.” She followed him down a corridor and through a room with the word “wardrobe” on the door. It was big, plain and messy, with racks of clothes, bright lights and mirrors running along one wall.

“Ah, the King has arrived!” said a little, chubby woman with mid-length black hair dragged ruthlessly back into a ponytail. She was close to middle-age, but seemed to have a secret source of energy that kept her revved up. She was almost buzzing with it. “Costume or makeup first, Patrick?”
”Costume,” he said. “Mim, this is Jessie. Jessie, Mim is the real boss of the show.”
”Of course I am,” Mim agreed. “Now let’s see, should it be white leather, white leather or white leather today?”

“You decide,” Patrick said, tugging his dark blue t-shirt over his head. Jessie looked away, only to find herself viewing his bare chest in the mirrors instead. “It’s okay, I’m not modest,” he assured her with a laugh, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans and pushing them down, taking his shoes with them as he stepped out of them. He certainly wasn’t modest. He wasn’t wearing anything under those jeans. Jessie blinked. The juxtaposition of that deceptively angelic face on that powerful, naked body was unsettling.

“Both very modest, my boys,” Mim commented. “Here, put this on, Patrick. You’re embarrassing your young lady.”
”I’m not his young lady,” Jessie hastened to add, prompting another short laugh from Patrick as he bent down and began tugging white leather trousers up his legs. The trousers were tight, which meant he had to drag them up slowly, which in turn meant that most of his fantastic body remained uncovered for some time. Jessie, having walked around him to avoid a full-frontal view, found herself confronted with the sight of his very tight, very attractive butt. At that point, she shut her eyes.

“Morning Mim,” another deep voice said. “Flashing again, Patrick?”
”It’s a vocation,” Patrick said. “Daniel, this is Jessie. Open your eyes, baby doll.” Jessie opened her eyes to see The Cat lounging comfortably, one hip propped against the ledge that ran in front of the mirrors.

“We’ve met,” he said. “Jessie isn’t our victim today, is she?”
”No,” Jessie answered quickly. He smiled, one eyebrow going up.

“No, that’s Amanda Friedrichs,” Patrick said, having finally tugged his white trousers up, stood up, tucked himself into them, and zipped them up. Still shirtless, he sat down and picked up a piece of paper. “A stockbroker convicted of insider trading,” he said. “Lucky to avoid a long term in jail, our Amanda. She not only passed on information inappropriately in such a way as to maximise the earnings of herself and her friends, she also made sure that none of the ‘little people’ she was supposed to be advising got the news even when they were entitled to it – to cover her tracks.”

“Nice type,” The Cat said. “I’ve met her.”
”Blonde?” Patrick asked.
”By choice,” the other man said. “Brunette by nature. Tall for a woman.”
”And stacked, yeah, I think I know the one. If it’s the one I’m thinking, I saw her when she was being processed,” Patrick said. “Should be fun.”

“So why are we being graced with Jessie’s presence?” the dark-haired man asked. His own presence was worrying Jessie. He was too big, too male, and too overpoweringly handsome. And the last time she’d crossed paths with him, she’d been nude and he’d said he was going to make her his personal project. He was looking at her now, green eyes guileless. She wasn’t buying it.

”Jake won’t be back until later today, or maybe even tomorrow,” Patrick explained. “And since he asked me to keep a close eye on her, I thought it best to bring her with me.”

“Makes sense to me,” The Cat replied. “Why don’t you sit down, Jessie?”

“I’m fine here thanks Ca…” she didn’t know what to call him. She didn’t want to go with ‘sir’, and to call him ‘Cat’ seemed silly.

“Make it Daniel while we’re here,” he smiled, flashing those famous teeth. “Of course, if you end up in the Institute, you’ll get out of that habit real fast.”

“Leave her alone,” Mim bustled past. “And either plonk yourself in a makeup chair or get your clothes off, Daniel.”

”Yes Ma’am,” he said. To Jessie’s intense discomfort, he also began to undress, bending to remove his shoes, then taking off his t-shirt. He smiled when Jessie covered her eyes with her hands.

“It doesn’t bother him,” Mim said, patting Jessie’s shoulder.

“It bothers me,” Jessie said, but she lowered her hands anyway, right on cue as Daniel lowered his jeans. “Oh!” she said, and covered her eyes again, prompting laughter from all three of them. She’d caught enough of a glimpse to see that the bulge that showed in the photographs of him in his tight leather pants owed nothing to artifice. It was all him. And he wasn’t wearing underwear either.

He took less time to drag his leather pants on than Patrick had, and his were his usual black. He then sat down to tug his boots on.

“They better?” Mim asked. The boots were very impressive, black with silver buckles on the side.

“Much better,” he approved, standing up. “Why in hell they ordered those other ones with heels I’ll never know.” These ones were almost flat.

“So you can tower over everyone,” Patrick said.
”I’m six five. How much height do I have to have in order to tower?” Daniel complained. “What do you think, Jessie? Am I imposing enough?” He stepped closer and she looked up and up, trying to avoid the expanse of smooth, golden chest..
”I’ve seen mountains that were less imposing,” she said without thinking. He laughed again. Then, to her relief, he turned away to pick up the black leather vest that finished his costume.

Mim brushed and styled their hair, then moved onto the makeup, which for both of them mostly consisted of eyeliner, black around Daniel’s green eyes and dark brown around Patrick’s blue ones. Mim also highlighted their lips, painting a slightly darker colour onto both of them, blotting it, then painting another coat on.

“Oh, I’m just so kissable now,” Patrick said. “Lay one on me, Jessie.”

“Is that an order?” she asked.
”Sure is,” he said. Suppressing a sigh, she stood up and limped over to him, bending to touch her lips to his in the briefest of kisses. He cupped the back of her head with his hand and pulled her back for a longer, more leisurely, but still chaste kiss. He grinned when he let her go.
”I want one too,” Daniel said. Jessie stiffened. She knew it was cowardly, but he was The Cat, for heavens sake. Of the two men, he was the mystery, the scary one. And she wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was wary of him. The jokes and laughter didn’t change that.

“I’ll kiss you, darling,” Mim said, plonking a loud smack on his full lips. She shrieked as he caught her round the waist and pulled her onto his lap for another.

“Stop it! Stop it! You’ll ruin the makeup!” Mim struggled until he let her go. “Both of you stand up. Good. Now turn around. Patrick, pull your pants up a bit higher at the back. Daniel, bend your knees so I can reach.” She tweaked at the vest where it ran across the broad stretch of his back. “Perfect. Go get ‘em, boys.” With that, she patted both of them on their leather-encased butts and bustled away again.

“You can watch from down here,” Patrick said, catching Jessie’s hand and tugging her with them as they strode out of the room and down the corridor. She had to hurry to keep up, and she was pleased her ankle was feeling a lot better as she did. She could hear the sounds of the audience now. The two men stopped just short of the entrance to the set, where they could see out, but couldn’t be seen. The rows of seats were now full, the audience settling in, and a floor manager looked up from the side and signalled to show that he’d seen them. He made another signal to the warm-up person who was already on stage.

“Here we go,” Patrick said.
”Ladies and gentlemen,” the warm-up man announced. “Welcome King Dazzler and The Cat!” Daniel leaned down and kissed Jessie firmly on the lips as he brushed past her.
”For luck,” he grinned at her stunned expression, then followed Patrick onto the stage. The audience roared as the two men picked up their face mikes and hooked them over their right ears.

Jessie watched, still shocked by that kiss. It couldn’t have been him, could it? But if it wasn’t, why had she felt that shock of familiarity when his lips touched hers? Oh God, she couldn’t have spent the night with The Cat, could she?

”Thanks Larry,” Patrick said, and she looked up. “So how are we all today? Ready for the scholastic challenge? That is what you’re here for, isn’t it? No?” There was laughter from the crowd. Daniel had dropped down off the stage and was loping up the stairs, avoiding some of the hands that were reaching out to touch him, shaking some of the others. “Watch out,” Patrick said. “The Cat is on the prowl, and he’s in a dangerous mood this morning.” Two-thirds of the way up to the back, Daniel stopped and crouched down beside a slightly overweight blonde woman who was probably old enough to be his mother.
”Have you been a good girl lately?” he growled, prompting shrieks of laughter from everyone, including her.

“No,” she assured him, a smile splitting her face. “I’ve been very bad, Mr Cat.”

“I could tell, just by looking at you,” he said. “Well, you know what I do to bad girls, don’t you?” She couldn’t quite swallow her delighted squeal.

“Yes,” she said. He stood up, her eyes following his face all the way up as he stood tall, and then she stood up too as he caught her hands and tugged her out of her seat. She was hardly to her feet before he’d bent and tipped her over his shoulder.

“Cat, PUT THAT WOMAN DOWN!” Patrick demanded.

“No,” Daniel responded adamantly.
”Now, Cat!” Patrick insisted. Daniel shook his head, patting the woman on her upturned backside with one big hand.
”I found her,” he said. “She’s mine. My birdy.” He continued strolling down the stairs amid the deafening laughter of the audience, for all the world as if he didn’t have a sizable woman over his shoulder.

“Sheeesh!” Patrick appealed to the audience. “What do you do? Honestly Madam, you should have known better. You don’t encourage cats. Particularly large, badly behaved tom cats. Of course we all know what happens to large, badly behaved tom cats, don’t we?” Daniel kept walking, almost to the stage now. The woman he was carrying was still laughing.

“They get neutered,” Patrick finished.

Daniel froze and the laughter became even louder. Slowly, he let the woman slip from his shoulder to the floor. Then:
”Bye!” he said, turning away from her and racing back up the stairs while the audience roared.

“They don’t rehearse it,” Mim said from behind Jessie. “Usually Daniel goes into the audience, but sometimes it’s Patrick. Most of the time they don’t even discuss it. They put on a good show before the real show, don’t they?” It was certainly entertaining the audience. Daniel had slunk back down the stairs, making a show of watching Patrick warily. When he reached the seat the woman had returned to, he bent down, winked at her and kissed her cheek, grinning as she giggled. That was all captured by the cameraman who had sidled up behind him and angled in from the side.

“Sir,” Patrick was saying, having also jumped down from the stage. “Can you tell me what you’re looking to get out of today’s show?”
”Lots of tits, arse and pussy,” the man, middle-aged and beefy, replied.

“Ah, yet another rocket scientist and intellectual genius, I see,” Patrick responded. Everyone laughed, including the man himself. “Cat, we have such humanitarian audiences, don’t we?”

“We do,” Daniel agreed, just as a young woman hurled herself up the stairs and into his arms. She boosted herself up, but wouldn’t have made it if he hadn’t caught her thighs and hauled her the rest of the way, her legs clamped around his hips, her arms around his neck.

“And shy and retiring ones, too,” he said, over the roar of hilarity that erupted. “Tell me, sweetheart, have you always been so quiet and restrained, or is this a recent problem of yours?” The young woman was plastering kisses all over his face. Mim groaned.

“He’s going to have lipstick all over him,” she prophesied.

“Miss, I really suggest that you put The Cat back where you found him,” Patrick said. “You don’t know where he’s been, and believe me, you don’t want to know.” Two other women edged their way along the seats and threw themselves at Daniel. He’d let go of the one who was hanging on to him now, using his bare, muscular arms not so much to fend the newcomers off as to guide where they landed against him. Then three more came running down the stairs behind him, and he dropped to his knees on the steps, the first woman still wrapped around him.

“He has to do that,” Mim said, shaking her head. “They kiss his face, but they grab for his crotch and his backside. He folds up like that to protect himself.” Guards were approaching from several directions.

“The Cat appears to have been buried,” Patrick said. “Dear me. Will we bother to save him?”
”Yes!” the crowd roared. Patrick sighed.

“I do have another eighteen dazzlers,” he pointed out. “He is expendable, after all.”
”No!” the crowd bellowed. He sighed again.
”Oh alright,” he said, signalling to the guards, who were already peeling women off. Daniel straightened up and shook himself.

“How many times do I have to tell you, King?” he looked at Patrick. “If I am drowning in a sea of women, there is no need to rescue me!” As the laughter rang out again, he strode back to the stage, touching some hands, avoiding others, and climbed back up.

“One minute to go,” the floor manager called out, and Patrick nodded, climbing back up onto the stage.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the warning will now be rolling over the screen for our viewers at home, but for your benefit, let me say it here, loud and clear. This program does not endorse violence against women, and no-one involved in this show receives any extreme or lasting hurt. The victims on the show are prisoners, sent to the Shame Institute by judges who’ve determined that their crime justifies public humiliation and mild corporal punishment, with the emphasis on mild. No, we don’t cause pain. We don’t like pain. But yes, we do like nudity and embarrassment and discomfort, don’t we? Because the name of the game is?” The audience yelled out “Shame!”

“You got it,” Patrick said, and turned to face the camera.

“Hot out there,” Daniel said quietly, and Jessie jumped. He’d approached from the side and switched his microphone off.

“Bend down,” Mim ordered, and he obliged. She wiped the lipstick off his face with the moistened cloths she’d brought with her, and she handed him a towel to wipe the sweat off his neck, shoulders and arms.
”Thanks,” he smiled. He turned his attention to Jessie, who was staring at him. “What?” he asked. With Mim nearby, she wasn’t going to ask him whether he’d spent the night in bed with her. A thin line of blood on his arm distracted her.

“You’ve been scratched,” she said, instinctively reaching out to touch it, to soothe it. At the school she worked at, she’d have patched it up and then kissed it better. Of course at school, the people she dealt with were little and cute and harmless, not huge, handsome and dangerous.
”Just a flesh wound,” he joked, but his green eyes settled on her for a while longer. And they warmed. He wiped the scratch with the towel, then looked behind him. “And here’s today’s lucky centre of attention,” he said.

Patrick had finished the opening spiel of the program, and now there was a picture of Amanda Friedrichs on the monitors and on the big screens. The picture showed a tall, immaculately presented woman with perfect make-up, expensive clothes and a ‘divine right to rule’ expression on her face. There was no doubt that this woman came from money, had money and knew how to spend it. Her blonde hair was elegantly styled, and there was a superior ‘don’t you wish you were me?’ look in her eyes.

Jessie looked behind her and caught her breath. The woman who was standing in the corridor, between two guards and out of sight of the audience, bore very little resemblance to the picture. Her hair was hanging over her shoulders, brushed but not styled, and not long enough to cover any of her. She was naked, one arm across her breasts, the other hand clamped over her pubic hair. She didn’t appear to have any makeup on, and she looked furious and frightened.

“Oh no,” Jessie said. She didn’t want to be this close to the woman’s suffering. What she really wanted was to put a stop to it, and she hated knowing that she couldn’t.
”It’s alright,” Mim said, her hand on Jessie’s shoulder. Daniel had stepped off to the side so that the woman couldn’t see him. Her heart going out to the victim of the day, Jessie slipped away from Mim and walked down the corridor, braving the challenging look on the faces of the guards.

“What do you want?” Amanda Friedrichs demanded, the fear on her face replaced by bravado.

“I just wanted to give you some support,” Jessie said. “Although I can’t think of anything to say to make it easier.”
”Are you with the show?” the blonde woman demanded.

“No,” Jessie shook her head.
”Well what good are you then?” the woman said, and turned away from her. Jessie was shocked. A large hand rested on her shoulder.

“Come away, Jessie,” Daniel said. “You can’t help her. Even if you could, she doesn’t deserve it.” Amanda’s eyes had widened at the sound of his voice, and she looked up at him.

”You’re The Cat, aren’t you?” she asked. “You can get me out of this. I can give you money, whatever you want, just get me out of this. My clients, my friends, my parents’ friends will be watching this. I can’t do this. This is going to ruin me.”
”You should have thought of that before you committed the crime,” Daniel said levelly.

“You could get me out of this, couldn’t you?” she asked again, her voice raising.

“I could,” he agreed. “But I won’t. I’ll see you later, Friedrichs. All of you.” With that, he drew Jessie away, out of the corridor and down to the left.
”She’s a piece of work,” he said softly. “Whether or not she deserves this show is a matter for debate, but she’s certainly not worth a minute of your time. Stay away from her.”

“But this is wrong,” she insisted. He shrugged.

“Maybe, maybe not, but there’s nothing you can do about it, little girl.” Again, there was that instant of familiarity as he said the last two words, but not enough of it to make her sure of her ground.

Mim put her arm around Jessie’s shoulders as Daniel stepped off to the side again..
”I used to feel bad for them too,” she said. “But most of them are just like her, dear. If someone had given them a few good smacks when they were growing up, my boys wouldn’t be giving them some today.” As she finished, the music started and the guards brought Amanda Friedrichs forward, theirs hands on her shoulders and back giving her no choice.

“Welcome to the most uncomfortable experience of your life, Friedrichs,” Patrick said sweetly. “Thank you, gentlemen. Friedrichs – display position.” Her arms folded across her, the blonde woman was almost doubled over, trying to turn away from the crowd which was cheering, hooting and whistling.

“Dear heaven, it’s like being at a gladiatorial games,” Jessie said, revolted.
”Not quite,” Daniel said from behind her. “I’m the only big cat here, and no-one is killed or hurt.”
”Just humiliated beyond belief,” she said.
”That’s the general idea,” he agreed.

“Friedrichs, you really don’t want me to have to repeat that order now, do you?” Patrick asked, walking closer to her. He stepped behind her and smiled, raising his eyebrows approvingly and making explicit gestures with his hands to indicate to the audience that she had a shapely backside. He moved closer, half a head higher than the tall woman, and put his hand on her bare shoulder. He lowered his voice, as if he were whispering, but since it was into the microphone, everyone could hear.

“Has anyone explained to you what will happen if you don’t follow orders?” The woman nodded.
”Well then,” he whispered. And then he bellowed, startling Friedrichs, Jessie and the audience. “Display position!”

The woman slowly, reluctantly, straightened up, her hands leaving her body and travelling behind her neck, to link there. The audience noise rose in approval, climbing higher still as Patrick moved her feet apart. The guards exited the stage and left the two of them there, the tall, slim, white-leather-clad man with the sweet, boyish face, and the naked woman, hands behind her neck, big breasts outthrust, nipples hard, pale body completely on display from head to toe.

“Amanda Maria Friedrichs,” Patrick read off the autocue. “Was found guilty of insider trading. Well, we can see that she certainly has some good tips, can’t we?” Jessie cringed as the audience laughed. “I’ll bet you wish you had some options to trade now, don’t you, Friedrichs?” he went on. A recorded voice took over, intoning the details of the charge, the judge who’d presided over her case, and the reasons for her judgement. Footage was shown of one of her victims talking about how she’d lost every cent because of the deliberately misleading advice Amanda Friedrichs had given her.

“I trusted her,” the elderly woman said, breaking down. “And now I’ve lost everything. She’s an evil woman.” While the audience was still booing over this, a short film was shown of the prisoner standing, rich, sophisticated and shocked in the dock. It faded into footage of her arriving at the Institute, her breasts bouncing wildly under the thin t-shirt as she jogged from the vehicle, then the t-shirt riding up high as her hands were pulled above her head and fixed to the overhead bar. The last image shown was of the guards ripping the t-shirt away from her in the Holding Room. Through all of this, the woman stood, face set, eyes cold, nude body trembling.

Patrick had walked away while the footage was playing. Now he returned, with an armless chair.

“How many do you think she deserves?” he asked the audience. Jessie was still looking away, but she couldn’t tune out the noise. Someone yelled “a hundred!” and it was topped by “two hundred!” and “a thousand!”

“Mother Theresa, you’ve got to stop coming back day after day,” Patrick joked. “Hmmm. Difficult choice. What do you think, Cat?” Daniel stepped up onto the stage and turned his microphone back on.
”Leave some pale skin for me, King,” he said. “No more than thirty.”

“The Cat has spoken,” Patrick said. “Thirty it is. Friedrichs, get that butt over here. Cameras, come in tight.”

“I can’t watch this,” Jessie murmured, turning to the corridor.

“You can’t leave now,” Mim whispered. “The boom mikes are turned up to amplify the sound of the spanks. There’ll be an echo if you walk. Just keep looking away, Jessie.” But of course she couldn’t. The sounds were too much for her, and when she looked back, the blonde woman was over Patrick’s lap, her bottom high, one of the big screens showing the view from the side, her breasts dangling down, her hands still behind her neck. The other screen alternated between a view from behind, where, despite her tightened buttocks, some of her most private parts could be seen, and the view from the front, of her flushed face and hanging breasts.

The spanking itself began, and even Jessie could see that Patrick wasn’t hitting hard. He was making sure that the spanks sounded loud, but they were designed to sting rather than hurt. The audience counted them, all the way from one to thirty. And as they reached thirty, Daniel stalked purposefully out to centre stage.

“Mine,” he growled. Patrick looked up.
”Yours,” he agreed. “I could almost feel sorry for you, Friedrichs.” He looked straight into Camera One, which zoomed in for a close-up. “Almost,” he said, and smiled.

The fight had gone out of the woman, although she still had that hard look in her eyes. Once helped into an upright position, she stood still while Daniel fastened a wide leather collar around her neck, then unfolded the leash that was attached to it and led her to the bench that was circling out on the moving base of the stage. Patrick had been a lot taller than her, but Daniel dwarfed her. Friedrichs, at five foot ten, looked small.

“Just what every cat needs,” Daniel said into his microphone. “A pet bitch to play with.” Predictably the crowd loved that.

“And a blonde bitch at that,” Patrick added as he stepped back. Daniel wordlessly looked down at Friedrichs’ brown pubic hair and then raised his eyebrows at the camera that was tight on his face. Another roar of laughter.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jessie watched as he guided the woman down onto her back on the bench, hooking the leash over a hook on the side. He positioned her arms down, strapping them in place and leaving her breasts bare again, the weight of them causing them to sag to each side of her body. He moved upstage, closer to the audience, and caught her ankles in his hands.

“And up we go,” he said, drawing her legs up. “Good girl,” he approved when she didn’t struggle.

They often did at this point, when they realised that it really was going to happen: they really were going to be completely, gynaecologically exposed to an audience of several million people, including, in all probability, everyone they knew. Friedrichs stared straight up at the studio lights above her head, straight into the camera that was aimed at her face. To the left of that camera was a monitor screen showing the feed that was going out, so she could witness her own exposure. Daniel drew the moment out as he straightened her legs in a ninety-degree angle to the rest of her body. In this position, her pink buttocks and most of her vulva were in view, and as Friedrichs became aware of that, she began, belatedly, to struggle. Daniel held her ankles with no apparent effort, and when the hooks were lowered from the ceiling, he wrapped one Velcro strap around each ankle and stood back.

“Open sesame,” he said. “Let’s see inside a trader.” As the pun filtered through, laughter and groans rolled across the audience as the hooks drew the woman’s legs apart and up higher, leaving her lying on her back, completely open and exposed, the pale underside of her buttocks presented, along with everything else.

“Five or ten?” Daniel asked.
”Ten!” the audience roared.

“A hundred!” called the same sensitive soul as before. Daniel rolled his eyes.
”Shame, people,” he reminded them. “Shame, not pain.” And again, Jessie turned away as he raised his arm and began the last part of the spanking.

Friedrichs was left in position for the last part of the show, as again, the photograph of her in her business suit was slid into place in a split screen. The other half of the split screen was occupied by the view of her as she currently was. The contrast was extreme and, to Jessie’s mind, obscene. As it always did, a cartoon stamp appeared on the screen, and a big red “SHAMED” was stamped across the image of Friedrichs’ upturned buttocks. Daniel stayed standing beside the woman, and Patrick approached to stand on the other side of her, their black and white leather outfits contrasting not only with each other, but also with the bare skin and shockingly exposed body of their victim.

“Tomorrow, we have a lawyer who deliberately misrepresented facts and sold her clients down the river for a big, juicy pay-off,” Daniel read off the auto-cue.
”Tune in to see what Wendy Michaelson looks like without her briefs,” Patrick added, and the music signalling the end of the show started.

Another show wrapped and ready to go out that night in adult viewing hours. As the credits rolled, Patrick bent and almost idly played with Friedrichs’ big nipples, stroking them while she wriggled on the bench, still clipped in place by the leash. The instant the floor managed signalled the end of the taping however, he stopped, and bent to undo the clip and her arms. Daniel undid the Velcro ankle straps, and they each took one of her arms and helped her to stand up.

“Okay?” Daniel asked. Mortified, still shaking, her arms instinctively covering herself from the two men and the audience, Friedrichs stared blankly at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Daniel said. Patrick raised a hand, and the two guards walked on stage to take her off, leading her past where Jessie and Mim stood at the side. The woman wasn’t crying, Jessie noticed, surprised. But she was pale and she looked as if she might be sick any minute.

“Thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen,” Patrick said to the audience. “The Cat and I will be moving around among you for the next ten minutes if you have any questions or want to talk to us.” With that, the fifteen minute daily show was ended and the two hosts stepped down off the stage and into a maelstrom of autograph hunters.

……………….

“That was horrible,” Jessie said, safe back in the wardrobe room with Mim. She’d sat quietly for several minutes before she spoke.

“Yes, it was,” Mim agreed. “But when you know a bit more about the stories of the women, you don’t stay quite as sympathetic.”
”Two wrongs don’t make a right,” Jessie said stubbornly. She looked at Mim. “I’m a prisoner here too, did you know that? The Governor is seeing if it’s possible to clear my name at present, but if it isn’t, I’ll be in the Institute. I’ll probably even star in a morning show of my own.”

“I can’t see that happening,” Mim shook her head. “The boys like you.” She tried to sound reassuring, but Jessie knew that every woman in the Institute starred in at a televised “Shame Game”.

“Can I help you with tidying up?” Jessie asked. The woman was nice, even if she was deluded about Patrick and Daniel.

“Bless you, you can pick the boys’ clothes up, if you will,” she said. “They leave them lying on the floor, particularly Patrick. Daniel at least takes his shoes off first.” Jessie picked up Daniel’s clothes, sorted them and folded them on a chair. Then she did the same with Patrick’s, extricating his shoes from the legs of his jeans. As she turned to put his things down on a second chair, her ankle gave under her and she winced.

“Are you okay?” Mim fussed over to her. “Is it your ankle?” Jessie nodded. The fact that Mim wasn’t surprised told her that the dresser/make-up person knew quite a lot about her already.

“It just gives sometimes,” she explained, hobbling to a chair.

“Sit down,” Daniel said from behind her, taking her knees out from under her, swinging her up off the floor and onto the chair. The man made no noise at all in approaching, she realised. He earned his nickname in many different ways.

“Let me see your ankle,” he said, dropping to his knees to take her right foot in his hands. “It was in plaster?” he asked. She nodded. “You should be doing some exercises to strengthen it, particularly the muscles around it,” he said. “I’ll come back to Jake’s place with you and go through some with you.”

“Another brilliant performance,” Patrick announced as he walked in. “Ah, what have you done, Jessie?” His tone changed as he asked.

“My ankle just gave while I was standing up,” she said. “Ouch!” That was because Daniel had moved her foot around a bit.
”Daniel can give you some exercises,” Patrick said.
”There’s an echo in here,” Daniel remarked. “I just said the same thing.”

”Out of that leather,” Mim said. “It’s going to be sweaty and smelly enough as it is. Come on. Get it off.”

“So much for the respect and adulation we get out there,” Patrick lamented, unbuttoning his vest and peeling it off. His skin was glistening with sweat as he undid the pants.

“Remember to take the boots off first,” Jessie suggested, wanting any excuse to look away from The Cat, who was still on his knees in front of her, handling her ankle like he knew what he was doing. Patrick laughed.
”Mim has been talking to you,” he said, but he sat down and undid the boots.

“Just sit there,” Daniel said, putting her foot down gently. “Don’t try to stand up.” He stood up himself as he was speaking, and shouldered his way out of the black vest, handing it to Mim, who took it as if it were a noxious object. His back to Jessie, he unbuckled the boots and stepped out of them, then unzipped his pants and peeled them down. When he straightened up, naked, Jessie was looking directly at the best butt she had ever seen, clad or unclad, and that included models and actors. Then she realised that she was staring – and worse still, that Patrick was grinning at her.

”Your butt has another fan, Daniel,” he said. Daniel spun around, giving Jessie an even more interesting view.

“Oh for heavens sake, put some clothes on!” she said, her annoyance overriding her intention to be cautious and respectful with them. Daniel laughed.

“I’ll have a shower first,” he said. “Mim, can you give me some of that stuff to take the eye makeup off?”

“Just bend down here,” she insisted. He did so, completely unselfconscious about the fact that he was nude in front of three people, two of them female, and Mim thoroughly cleaned the eyeliner and lipstick off him.

“Go have that shower,” she said, and he saluted and walked off.

“I need the makeup removed too,” Patrick said. “I’ll get no respect at all today if I walk around with eyeliner and lipstick on.” Mim walked over to where he sat, his pants unzipped but still on.

Daniel was as good as his word, walking back to the residence with Jessie afterwards. Halfway back, Patrick veered off.
”If you’re going to keep an eye on Jessie, I’ll go run the late briefing,” he said. Daniel nodded as he replied.

“I’m supposed to be sentencing one of the new women this morning,” he said. “God, what is her name? Something Italian. Parata, Perina, something like that.”
”Any particular punishment?” Patrick asked. Daniel shook his head.

“Up to you,” he said. “She refused an extra last night. A guy who’d come from the business she managed. Even for fifty points, she wasn’t prepared to let him get his hands on her.”
”An outright refusal?” Patrick asked, eyebrows up. Daniel nodded.

“Dear me,” Patrick smiled. “She is going to have a very uncomfortable day. Be good, Jessie. And don’t worry, baby doll. I’m leaving you in good hands. Again.” Merriment in his eyes, he held her gaze while comprehension flooded into her face.

“Bastard,” Daniel said affectionately as Patrick stalked off. “I don’t know why he bothered blindfolding you.”
”It was you,” she said quietly. It was no longer a question.

“Yes, it was me,” he said. “And if Jake ever finds out, both Patrick and I are going to be in deep trouble, so you hold our lives in your hands, Jessie.” She looked down at her feet, concentrating on them, on keeping the weight off her injured ankle.

“Are you going to look at me again?” he asked, amusement in his voice.
”I wasn’t planning to,” she admitted. He laughed softly, an echo of that soft, wicked laugh she remembered from the night before.

“Why not?” he teased. He stopped walking, put one finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. Her grey eyes focused on a point beside his right ear.
”It’s obvious why not,” she said.

“Not to me,” he replied. That brought her gaze to meet his for an instant, but the dazzling green eyes were too much for her. She’d spent the night with this man? She, innocent little Jessie Porter, had spent the night in the arms of this man?

“You used my body,” she said simply.
”I did,” he replied, just as simply. “But I stopped and gave you a choice, if you remember.”
”It wasn’t a choice,” she said, meeting his gaze again, her little chin arrowing up. She tried to lift that chin off his finger, but it didn’t work.

“Why wasn’t it a choice?” he asked.
”Because you made…because…oh, dammit, let me go!” She tried again to pull away.

“No,” Daniel said. “But we’ll continue this conversation inside. Come here.” He bent and picked her up as he spoke.

“Once again, you didn’t give me a choice,” she couldn’t resist scoring a point. He laughed.

When he pushed the front door open and walked in to the Governor’s residence, he didn’t even pause in the living room. He walked straight through to the bedroom and put her down on the bed. Jessie wriggled away from him immediately. This was too much. It was bringing back all sorts of sensory memories she didn’t want to have to deal with when he was this close to her. She could clearly recollect the feeling of that long body of his pressed naked against hers. She shivered.

“Relax,” he said. “I’m not going to jump you, I promise.” She did relax a little, but catching sight of the ropes Patrick had tied her hands with, still looped around the top of the bed, did not help. “So,” Daniel went on, reaching up to untie them and pocket them. “Tell me why you don’t think I gave you a choice.” Jessie made a growling noise and threw herself back onto the pillows; only realising once she had done it that she was in an even more vulnerable position. She covered her eyes with her hands so she didn’t have to look at him, magnificent and huge and standing right beside her.

“Jessie?” he insisted, that humour in his tone again, infuriating her. He sat down and tugged her hands away. She gave up.

“You kiss like a dream,” she said, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “And you know so much about arousing a woman that it’s not fair. You don’t just go for the obvious places; you know lots of others as well. And when you DO go for the obvious places, you do things that just rob a woman of the ability to think, let alone the capacity to say no. You stir everything up and you heat everything up and you get everything all uncomfortable and edgy and hot and stirred and…and THEN you have the nerve to ask whether I want to go on or stop!” He’d started grinning halfway through that speech and was still doing so when she finished.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she suspected he was apologising for the grin more than anything else. “You are so honest, it’s a delight. So, still being honest: did you enjoy it?” She would have covered her face again, but he caught her wrists and held them lightly.

“That’s not fair either,” she complained, trying to tug her hands loose. “And neither is the question. Yes, of course I enjoyed it. You know I did. You made sure I did. But did I enjoy having the right to choose who I shared my body with taken away from me? No. I didn’t.” He let go of her wrists and nodded.

“Still honest,” he approved. “Jessie Porter, there is no way you’re going into the Institute. Jake should be back today, and I’m confident that he will have found a way to release you, but even if he hasn’t, I give you my word that you won’t be going into the Institute.”
”You have that power?” she was stunned, both at what he said and at the fact that he was saying it. He nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “Now, let’s have a look at that ankle.”