Silkbound into Slavery 

Part Four   

    Sarah was broken. Her will to resist, even her will to survive had deserted her. She inhabited a world of discomfort that she could barely have thought possible a few days ago. Her body, bowed back into a stringent suspended hogtie, ached at every joint. Her head, forced back and tied to her wrists, hurt beyond belief and she genuinely thought that if she ever got out of this, she would never again be able to lower her head from its cranked back position. Her head was securely wrapped in seven layers of clinging silk scarf and she was further gagged with a leather head harness and attached ball gag that restricted her breathing severely. She had long ago stopped trying to scream through the wadded silk panties and rubber ball that filled her mouth. If that had been the extent of her torture, it would have been bad enough, but her nipples, severely clamped, felt as though they were literally on fire.   
    Stephanie finally completed her packing for the upcoming cruise and walked back down into the loading bay from her bedroom. Sarah was still swinging backwards and forwards from the hook in the centre of the loading bay. Pathetic whimpers came from Sarah's silkbound head, confirming to Stephanie that her punishment of Sarah was having its desired effect. Sarah's incarceration in the packing crate for the next two weeks would complete the breaking process, and enable her to sell Sarah as a docile, broken slave that her new owner could then mould to his own requirements. It was a brutal but highly effective method of training that allowed Stephanie to extract the highest prices for her slaves. It also thrilled her to see the results of her efforts and she gained a sadistic delight in Sarah's discomfort.   
    As Stephanie sat down to admire her handiwor, her mobile phone warbled its ring tone. Flipping the cover she answered: "This is Miss Smith."
    "Hello Princess, it's Cratchett here. We're outside your loading bay with the crate. Can you let us in please?"   
    Why, of course I can Mr Cratchett, good of you to be on time for once. I had started to become mildly bored with my current entertainment, your cargo will make a welcome diversion"   
    Stephanie flipped the phone shut and walked over to the loading bay doors where she pressed the green button to one side of the vehicle sized door. The metal shutters rolled slowly upwards to reveal a medium sized white panel van. It drove carefully into the loading bay and Stephanie operated the red button to close the door behind it. The van drew to a halt and a man who was clearly Mr Cratchett opened the driver's door and jumped down onto the smooth concrete of the loading bay.   
    The description of 'ratty' could not have been written for a more appropriate individual. Cratchett was short, thin and looked about 50. He had a wizened, weather beaten face and it was clear that he had been in more than a few fights in his time. His nose was distinctly crooked and his hooded eyes were a deep lifeless brown. A layer of thin, straggly greasy brown hair completed the look of someone who did not take a lot of care of themselves, and didn't care who noticed. Stephanie shuddered as Cratchett walked forward. His appearance and demeanour was one of the shortcomings of their relationship, but he did provide a first class service and Stephanie considered that that made up for it.   
    "Jesus Princess," he exclaimed as he noticed Sarah swinging from the hook behind Stephanie. "She must have really pissed you off. I thought the crate was supposed to break her - it looks as though you are trying to beat me to it. Or do you get off on doing this sort of thing", he said slyly, giving Stephanie a knowing look.   
    Stephanie reddened at the rather too accurate interpretation of her actions. "Mr Cratchett, " she said, trying to put on a superior and somewhat arrogant voice. "Our relationship is purely a business one. Let's keep it that way if you don't mind and let's get on with unloading the transit case."   
    Cratchett smiled and knew he had scored a direct hit. His observations of the ice cool English woman over the past few years had led him to believe that the slaving aspect of her business was almost an excuse to sexually molest young women. Now he knew he was right, and it gave him an edge that he might find useful in the future.   
    "Ok, however you want it Princess.  Kevin!," he shouted at the younger man in the passenger seat. "Shift your idle butt and get the crate unloaded." The younger man, a spitting image of Cratchett but 30 years younger was clearly his son. Kevin leapt down at his father's bidding and went around the back of the van to start unloading. Kevin was about 20  and a chip of the old block. Already sporting a broken nose like his father, he had close cut brown hair and an earring in each ear. Stephanie suspected that he had spent more time playing truant from school than actually attending one.  
    "If you get her new accommodation prepared Mr Cratchett, I will release her from her current predicament," said Stephanie.   
    "Sarah,", she said into Sarah's silk covered ears. 
    "I am awfully sorry but we have to bring this entertainment to a premature halt. It is time for you to get acquainted with your new accomodation and I am sure that you are eager to see how cramped the living conditions are."   
    "Before I untie you there are a couple of preparations that we need to make. I am going to insert a catheter into each of your arms so that we can introduce nutrients to you during the journey - after all we wouldn't want an investment such as yourself to expire before reaching your final destination, would we? One of the catheters will ensure you are provided with enough nutrients to keep you in good shape, whilst the other one will administer a special stimulant concoction of mine that I can guarantee will keep you awake, alert and mindful of your predicament. After all, there is not much point in crating you up if you are going to sleep through the experience is there?"   
    As Stephanie began to untie the rope that held Sarah's head back in its horizontal position and started to unbuckle the head harness, Cratchett and his son pushed a large wooden crate around from the back of the panel van. About head hight and approximately five foot square, it was mounted on a wheeled pallet and looked just like a normal shipping crate. It was not until they pressed a button on the side that it became clear this was something special. The wheels slowly dissappeared up into the floor of the crate and all four sides of the wooden crate folded downwards on hidden hydraulic rams, stopping as they reached the floor and providing a ramp up to the centre of the crate from the floor.   
    As Stephanie unbuckled the leather head harness that held the ball deep in Sarah's mouth, she glanced over to see Cratchett and his young assistant unlatching the steel bolts that surrounded the black foam covered centre of the crate. When all the bolts had been released he two men pulled on one side of the crate and the two halves started to separate.   
    As the hard rubber ball came free from Sarah's silk plugged mouth, she let out the loudest wail of pain she could under the difficult circumstances. It was surprisingly loud given that Sarah's plugged mouth still held Stephanie's soiled silk panties and was tightly bound with a further two rollled silk scarves. It took Stephanie momentarily by surprise and she caught Cratchett's look of amusement out of the corner of her eye. Stephanie reacted in an instant and slapped Sarah hard on the side of her silk shrouded face.
    "How dare you make such a pathetic noise when I've not given you permission. I'll tell you when you can make a noise, in fact I'll tell you when you can breathe!"  
With which she grasped Sarah's silk bound nose between finger and thumb and squeezed tight, cutting off the little air supply Sarah had left.   Sarah immediately started to struggle, as her body wriggled helplessly from the metal hook. Stephanie felt a warm surge of power and satisfaction as her captive danced around on her hook, powerless to help herself. Stephanie reluctantly let go of Sarah's nose after about 20 seconds. "Just remember slut, your life is in my hands. Piss me off too much and I might just be minded to end it.".   
    Cratchett's son's eyes opened wide in disbelief and a new respect crossed Cratchett senior's face. Stephanie realised that she had regained her credibility with the two removal men.   
    Turning to a tray of mediacal instruments on a side table Stephanie prepared two canulars for insertion into Sarah's forearms. As an ex nurse this was a straightforward procedure and she swiftly selected a vein between Sarah's bound wrists and the rope drawing her elbows close together. Sarah winced and moaned quietly as the needle was inserted and Stephanie taped the canular into position. She had clearly learnt her lesson about gag talk. Stephanie repeated the operation on the other arm and then proceeded to release Sarah from her suspended hog tie. She knew full well that the pain of the blood flowing back into Sarah's nipples after being clamped for so long would be unbearable. She also knew that Sarah would not be able to prevent herself from screaming, so she left the silk hoods in place as she undid the clamps on her inflamed nipples. The merest touch as she did so had Sarah convulsing in agony and wailing through the gags. If Stephanie was honest with herself she loved the sounds that Sarah made in pain, and as she operated the remote control to lower Sarah to the floor she felt a hot flush come over her.
    Fortunately, apart from a few sidelong glances, Cratchett and his son were busy preparing the crate for its future occupant, so Stephanie took a hook blade and used it to slice the ropes that held Sarah's body into it's agonising hog tie. Sarah collapsed onto the cold concrete floor and gave out an agonised scream through the gags as her nipples came into contact with the cold concrete. She flipped herself instantly onto her back and then lay still, breathing deeply through the seven layers of silk that shrouded and bound her face. Stephanie took a rolled up scarf from the tray and quickly bound Sarah's legs together at the ankle. Her captive was in no fit state to go anywhere, but Stephanie had not lasted so long in this dangerous business by taking chances.   
    Sarah knew that she was badly mauled, and the pain of the blood flowing back into her nipples was almost unbearable, but she was not yet beaten. The pain was intense, and at the beginning of her hogtied hell she almost lost it, but a powerul thirst for revenge over this cruel woman kept her on just the right side of insanity.  "I'll last long enough to pay her back for all she's done to me", she kept on saying to herself, as the discomfort grew worse. It slowly became a mantra that she repeated over and over again to blot out the worst of her punishment. She would survive and she would repay Stephanie, with interest. Quite when was another matter.   
    Cratchett and son had by now prepared the crate for its occupant and had set out the box of white elastic crepe bandages that they would be using to secure their captive. "Ready when you are Princess", called out Cratchett senior. "Do you want help to bring her over?"   
    "Yes please Mr Cratchett, come over and pick her up would you please."   
    The two Cratchett's sauntered over to where Stephanie stood over her captive. Sarah was now unbound, apart from the scarf binding her ankles and the violet scarf that enveloped her head which hid from view the other six scarves and a gagged mouth full of Stephanie's panties. Her deep breathing as she fought against the pain caused the violet silk to suck in and out as Sarah's breathing was restricted. Stephanie noted with amusement the bulge in front of both men's jeans as they got their first real look at her naked and sweat stained captive. It was abundantly clear to her that both men were in this for more than the money, and she wondered idly what unspeakable horrors they visited on her captives once she had passed the transport responsibility to them.   
    Cratchett took hold of Sarah's bound wrists and Kevin picked up her scarf bound ankles. They then easily lifted her off the concrete floor and carried her over to the crate, which had now revealed the chrome and leather chair contraption that filled the centre of the space. As they started to untie Sarah's remaining bonds, Stephanie explained to the still gagged and hooded captive.   
    "We are about to secure you to the chair that will be your home for the next three weeks Sarah. It is of course not a chair in the sense that you would recognise, but more a collection of rigid tubes against which we can bind your limbs and completely immobilise you. You will be secured to the chair with elastic crepe bandages. These have the wonderful property of allowing your limbs to be tightly secured while the elastic spreads the pressure, allowing your circulation to be uninterrupted. As a result, no pressure points will develop. I have used them very successfully in the lunatic asylum I used to work in many years ago - they have a remarkably calming effect on the patients after the first few days, once they have become too exhausted to panic!"   Sarah felt herself being lifted off the floor and placed against the cold chrome supports of the chair. Bandages started to snake their way around her legs and arms, starting at the waist and ankles and winding upwards towards her torso. The effect was not immediately unpleasant, although she could feel the pressure as her limbs became one with the supporting structure.   
    Cratchett and Kevin had clearly done this many times before and Stepanie stood back and watched a pair of true professionals at work. After a lifetime of furniture removal, Cratchett was extremely skilled in securing unwieldy objects, and his securing of Sarah was both swift and effective. Within a few minutes Sarah's arms, legs and torso were welded to the frame of the chair. Placing a towel around her neck to provide some padding Cratchett Senior carefully completed the wrapping by securing Sarah's neck back against the central chrome support that ran vertically up the back of the chair.   
    "Marvellous work Mr Cratchett, as always", exclaimed Stephanie, genuinely impresed with the work. "Sarah my dear, in a minute I am going to remove my rainbow hood and regag you for the next three weeks, but first it is time to hook you up to your life support system."   
    Stephanie took several IV bags from the nearby table and installed them on the hooks provided above each arm of the chair. She then connected the hanging giving tubes to the canulars embedded in Sarah's forearms, which had been left uncovered during the wrapping proces.. "You will notice that there is no seat to the chair Sarah. Beneath the seat is a small chemical toilet that will acommodate the limited waste you will be generating over the next few weeks. But I am afraid that I am not going to make life that easy for you. You will be plugged securely. The plug I am preparing now is hollow and will be fitted into your rectum. It is electronically controlled and will open to allow the waste out at predetermined times during your voyage. This may be every couple of hours or it may be every day or so, the timing is entirely random so you will have to hold in any waste until the valve opens again. You will soon become obsessed with this and I fear it may become more than a little uncomfortable."   
    Stephane greased the hollow plug and then bent down underneath the chair to insert it in Sarah.She screwed the plug into position inside Sarah and then used a small key to rotate a valve on the bottom of the plug. This caused a flange to expand inside of Sarah, locking the plug in place until it was released with the key.   
    "The next plug is a large dildo", said Stephanie. It too is electronically controlled and will start and stop at prearranged times during your voyage. If I have timed it right, it will, on each occasion, bring you to the point of orgasm, before stopping completely. I should add that I don't normally get these things wrong. It will prove very frustrating for you I am sure. Together with your anal plug you will be quite fixated on your bottom end I can assure you".   
    Stephanie greased the large dildo and forced that too deep into Sarah, using the same key and flange system to secure it in position. She took the trailing wires from each device and attached them to power sockets on the side of the crate.She then hung the key on a hook on the inside of the crate where it would be at hand for use by her new master at the other end of Sarah's voyage.   
    "Unfortunately for you, whilst you are bound in such a way that the pressure is spread, and therefore should be only moderately uncomfortable, I need to ensure that absolutely no noise can pass your lips for the next two weeks. I am afraid that this will be really quite uncomfortable."   Stephanie started to undo the rainbow hooding, removing each of the seven silk scarves that were bound over Sarah's head like a hood. Stephanie untied each one in turn until Sarah's face emerged from the bright red scarf that had been applied first. Kevin, who was something of an apprentice to his more experienced father, looked on in amazement as scarf after scarf was removed. His jaw dropped as the final scarf was removed with a flourish and he saw the tightly bound cleave scarves holding Stephanie's sodden silk panties deep in Sarah's extended mouth.   
    Sarah blinked in the harsh bright light of the loading bay as her eyes saw light for the first time in many hours. She looked in turn at the curious faces in front of her. Stephanie, her face immaculately made up and framed with a crisp pink edged Hermes Bride de Bains headscarf tied under her chin, contrasted horribly with the ravaged visage of Cratchett senior, his lifeless sunken brown eyes boring into her as he savoured the moment.    
    What on earth was in store for her now, she wondered.   

End of Part Four