Pam-Ann

Description

Alongside our world is another, a world where women may be kept as slaves, whipped for the slightest misbehaviour or just for the amusement of their owners. Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean is a portal where it may be possible to cross from one world to the other, swapping lives with someone on the other side.

Pam made the crossing, although not intentionally. She found herself on an airship, caught as a stowaway and condemned to work semi-naked as a slave for the amusement of the passengers, and whatever they wanted to do to her.

Published: 10 / 2012
No. words: 82300
Style: BDSM/Bondage – Content: Moderate – Classed as: Consensual – Sex Slavery / Training, Male Dom – M/F

Pam stared at the face beneath the narrow-peaked cap.  “Captain Todd.  Oh, thank God!  I thought I was all alone here.  What’s happened to us?”

To her astonishment he laughed again.  “Nothing’s happened to me, girl, but I guarantee you’ve got yourself into a heap of trouble.  Let’s see where you’ve been hiding.”  A grip like a steel band closed around Pam’s upper arm and drew her to the other door.

“Wait, what’s going on?  Do you…?  Have you…?  Oh, what’s happened to us?  What’s happened to the plane?  That… that thing, what was it?”

“It’s too late to be changing your mind now,” he said, opening the door.  “You should have thought about the consequences before you snuck on board.”  Pulling her after him he looked around the metal-walled room beyond the door.  Old-fashioned trunks and suitcases were piled together under rope nets.  A corner of one of the nets was loose from its fastening hook and turned back.  Todd drew her towards it.

“Didn’t you realise you could have been injured or killed if the baggage had shifted?” he asked, keeping his grip on her as he stooped to drag a blanket out from a narrow gap between piled suitcases.  He gestured at it and the folded overcoat and canvas bag lying on top.  “And that’s hopelessly inadequate.  You might have died of cold if you’d stayed here much longer.  But I guess that’s why you decided to come out when you did.  What’s your name?”

Pam’s bewilderment increased.  “You know my name.  Are you okay, Captain Todd?  Has the shock affected you?”  Or had it affected her much more than she thought?  Was this all a hallucination, a dream?

“I’m okay, girl.  Everything is routine as far as I’m concerned, which is more than you’ll be able to say before it’s over.  And my name isn’t Todd.  It’s Lieutenant Drake, but of course you will call me ‘Sir’.  Now tell me your name.”

Pam blinked hard but the face she was staring at remained that of Todd.  “But it’s me, Pam.  Pamela Weston.  Don’t you know me?  We were on the plane together a few minutes ago.  You must know me.  You must!”  Desperation joined the fear twisting her gut.  Had he gone mad or was it her?  Heart pounding she looked around the blank metallic walls of the room.  “Oh, God, this can’t be happening!”

Todd, who said he was Drake, shook her.  “Stop your nonsense or I’ll smack you.  Stand there while I have a look through your bag.”

It’s not my bag, Pam wanted to say, but she had to concentrate all of her energy on slowing her breathing and suppressing her rising panic.  She watched him rifle through the bag and withdraw a folded sheet of paper.

“It’s a good thing you brought your passport or it would have gone even harder for you,” he said, after unfolding the document.

Her passport was back on the plane.  Looking at the paper upside down she could see it looked official, headed by the words ‘United States Of America’ printed in old-fashioned lettering in red and black ink.

Todd, who denied that he was Todd, met her gaze, his expression stony.  “So Pamela Weston is really Ann Estemay of Dayton, Ohio, born June sixteenth nineteen sixty-one and described as….”  He broke off to look her up and down, then read from the document.  “Five feet seven inches, blue eyes, light-brown hair, small mole beneath the jaw line, right side.  I’d say that’s a pretty fair description, wouldn’t you, Ann?”

Disbelieving, Pam realised that except for the name it was.  “No.  No!  My name is Pamela Weston.  I’m not….”

He spun her with one hand and smacked her bottom with the other.

“Ow!  What the hell are you doing?” Pam demanded, indignation momentarily overcoming anxiety.  “That’s sexual harassment and assault.  I could have you on charges.”

Todd’s steel grip closed on her arm again.  “It’s no use behaving like a Freewoman now,” he said, dragging her after him along the corridor.  “Those days are over for you.  You made your choice when you stowed away.  There’s no going back.”

“A stowaway?  God, you think….  No, that’s now how it is at all!  I was on a plane and….”

He pushed her against the cold wall hard enough to flatten her breasts and smacked her three times where the tight material of her skirt clung to her buttocks.

“Ow, that hurts!” Pam yelped.  “Will you quit hitting me!  I’ll be making a formal complaint about you for this.  You have no right to treat me this way.”

“Oh, I’ve got the right,” he assured her, pulling her along again.  “What are you complaining about?  It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”  He opened the door, revealing another bare corridor along which he led her until they reached two steep stairways, one leading up and the other down.  Her brain a fog of confusion and bewilderment, Pam did not resist his tug on her arm and began descending the stairs.  In three steps she discovered her high heels were not made for its narrow treads.  She slipped and began to topple.  Todd’s long, powerful arm clamped around her waist and pulling her tightly against him, he carried her easily to the bottom.  Sudden warmth spread over her skin where their bodies touched.  She pushed hard until he let her go and took her arm once more, a puzzled expression on his face.

Pam took her shoes off before going down more stairs that brought them to another door.  As the man unlatched it, the throbbing hum she had been hearing since her frightening and inexplicable arrival grew louder and the vibration she had felt was much more noticeable.  Todd opened the door and a wave of heat washed over her, as if she had stepped off an airliner at some tropical destination.

She stopped dead in the doorway.  A short passage led to another staircase.  At its foot was a scene from hell.

The room looked huge.  The noise filling it was tremendous, no longer a muted hum but a rolling, rumbling roar, punctuated by clanking and hissing and thumping sounds like nothing Pam had heard before.  In its centre was a massive, dome-shaped structure from which pipes of all sizes seemed to sprout randomly and make their way via floor and ceiling to another slightly smaller dome next to it and another, smaller again, next to that.  Ranged alongside them was a row of six immense pistons from which steam spurted with every rapid, regular stroke they gave and swirled in clouds beneath the light of dozens of dim electric bulbs.  Men stripped to the waist moved amongst them, checking and adjusting and lubricating the machinery.  Beside the biggest dome were several figures, half in shadow and half-illuminated by a bright orange glow that came and went with no pattern or purpose that Pam could make out.

Todd opened a door on the right, pulled her in after him and closed it, shutting out much of the din assaulting Pam’s already befuddled senses.  A man sitting behind a desk and poking a penknife into the bowl of a pipe rose to his feet.

“Everything okay, Chief?” Todd asked him.

“Fine, Lieutenant.  I’ve checked things out.”  He pointed a thumb at the big glass window that looked out into the hellish room.  “There seemed to be a bit more vibration than usual a few minutes ago but everything’s normal now.”

“Yes, she felt really sluggish for a while but it didn’t last.  We’ve cleared the crosswinds and we’re back on course, but we’re miles south of where we should be.  The Commodore sent me to make sure everything’s running smoothly.”

“He already talked to me on the speaking tube.  There wasn’t any need to send you too.”

Todd, or Drake as he was obviously known to the man, shrugged.  “You know the Old Man.  He always likes to double check.  And it’s never a bad idea to take extra care.”

“Guess not.”  The Chief looked at Pam.  “Another one already?  Hell, that’s one coming and now one going back.  We’re making it too easy for them.”

“I don’t suppose the Company agrees.  That’s why they keep security so lax.  It’s cheaper than buying them, I guess.”  He pulled Pam closer to the desk and she stared daggers at the man behind it as his gaze appraised her from head to foot.  It came to rest on the swells of her breasts outlined by her tight uniform jacket.

“Pam-Ann?” he said, mistaking the purpose of the winged badge on her lapel as well as misreading it.  “I knew a Sue-Ann once but I never heard that one before.  You sure caught a beauty this time, Rafael.”

“Yeah, but she seems to be having second thoughts.  She’s done nothing but lie to me and complain since I found her.”  Drake laughed.  “When I smacked her ass she said she’s going to report me.”

The Chief grinned at Pam.  “Too bad.  You sure pissed on your plate of beans, missy.  Should have been dead sure before you decided you were one of That Kind.  We’re eight hours out now.  You’re in all the way and there’s no going back.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Pam said, his words only adding to her bewilderment.  “I… I don’t know how I got here.  I certainly didn’t stow away.”

“Then you’ll have a ticket.”

“She doesn’t.”  Drake waved the paper he had found in the bag.  “But she had the sense to bring her passport.  She’s Ann Estemay, though for some reason she says she isn’t.  I thought I’d let her sample your hospitality and see what her griping has got her.”

“Give her something else to gripe about, more like.”  The Chief grinned at her again and waved his pipe.  “Get your clothes off then, Ann.  Let’s have a look at you before you join my girls.  And you better have a good strong back ’cause you’re gonna need it.”

“Wha… what did you say?”

“He said strip,” the brute who called himself Drake said.  “I already reminded you once you aren’t a Freewoman any more.  Do you think you’re allowed to go around wearing clothes?”

Pam made a grab for the door handle but Drake’s hand against the door stopped her opening it.

“Looks like she’ll need help, Chief.”

She dropped her shoes when his iron grip on the back of her neck forced her forwards until her right cheek was hard against the desktop, from where she caught a sideways glimpse of the Chief moving around behind her.

“No, you can’t,” Pam cried.  “You’ve no right to be mauling me.  Let me go, damn you!”  She felt the hem of her jacket lifted and hands loosening the button at the back of her skirt’s waistband.  “I said no,” she almost screamed.  “Oh, God, let me go!”  When her attempt to prise the hand from her neck failed she tried levering herself up from the desk but it proved equally futile.  She flailed her arms uselessly as the Chief fumbled with her skirt.  It was too tight for her to kick out effectively.

“What the hell’s this?”  He yanked at the skirt’s waist.  “Well, I never saw anything fasten like that before.”  His distraction was brief.  He dragged Pam’s skirt down over her hips and let it fall.  She lashed out a foot but it tangled in the material pooled around her ankles.  “What the…?  I never saw that before either.”

Pam wriggled frantically as his fingers hooked in the waistband of her pantyhose and pulled them down to join her skirt, leaving nothing but her skimpy pale-blue panties to cover her most intimate place.  Her protests grew louder and more frantic and terror gripped her as powerfully as the hand at her neck. They were going to….  No, she would not even think the word!  But it did not make the fear twisting her gut any easier to bear.  Her head spun and only her long habit of control helped her stave off her rising panic.

“Loan me your rod, Chief,” Drake said and Pam felt a sudden jerk at her hips followed by the sound of elastic snapping and cotton tearing as he ripped off her briefs.  Her vision misty with unshed tears, she only half-saw the Chief reach across his desk, and what he picked up was only a blur.  A second later a fiery streak of pain scorched the soft skin of her buttocks.

“Oow!  Agh!  Oh, God, you hit me!  How dare you?  I’ll….”

Drake dealt her another swift, stinging stroke, jerked her upright and turned her to face him.  “I’ve had enough of you.”  His dark-brown eyes stared deep into Pam’s blue ones.  “That’s two strokes.  I don’t suppose a spoiled brat like you has felt the rod before.  Well, I’ll strap you down properly and give you a dozen more if you don’t start behaving yourself.  Unless that’s what you’re angling for.  Is that it?  Can’t you wait?  Are you trying to get me to thrash you?”

Pam gave an emphatic shake of her head.

“Okay, then get the rest of your clothes off.  I’ve more important duties than dealing with stowaways.”  He let her go and Pam backed quickly away, only to take a hasty step forward as the smarting tracks across her bottom met the wall.  Drake raised the long stick, as thick as her forefinger, and pressed it against the bare, soft skin on the fronts of her thighs.  She saw his jaw lift along with an impatient eyebrow, sucked in a deep breath and began unbuttoning her jacket.  Frightened and horribly embarrassed, she let it and her white blouse join her pantyhose on the floor.  The Chief had her skirt and was toying with its zipper.

“Hey, that’s real clever!  The teeth mesh into each other when you pull it up and separate again when you pull it down.  Must be a one off.  I never saw anything like it.”  His enquiring look at Pam changed to blatant appraisal as he saw her standing in nothing but her bra.  In the act of unfastening it she stopped and dropped both hands to cover the trimmed, light-brown triangle of her pubic hair, as the heat of embarrassment on her cheeks flamed higher.

“No one told you to stop,” Drake said, and tapped the stick on her thighs hard enough to sting.

“You son of a….”  She cut herself short as he raised the rod.  “Oh, don’t!”  Pam freed the last hook on the bra.  With a gulp she slid the garment free of her breasts.  Afraid he would hit her again if she tried to hide her nakedness she forced her hands to her sides, fingers clenched tight.

“Stand straight,” Drake said, and she squared her shoulders and cringed inwardly as the posture thrust her breasts out.  She flickered a glance at each man and then stared fixedly at the floor as her heart pounded, and she waited in dread for their assaults to begin.

“Nice tits,” the Chief observed.  “I like them bigger but her nipples are cute.  She’s got a fine set of muscles too by the look of things.  Not overdeveloped but enough to give her a helluva figure.  Turn around, Ann, let’s see your ass.”

Bitterly humiliated, Pam turned.  Her bottom buzzed painfully from the rod’s impacts.  She had no wish to provoke any more.

The Chief chuckled throatily.  “Now that’s an ass, Rafael.  Firm as a Georgia peach and just as juicy, I’ll bet.  What do you say?”

“I expect it’ll be popular with the passengers once we introduce her.  But she had better have learned to do as she’s told by then.”  He tapped the rod on Pam’s smarting bottom.  “Turn around.  What do you say?  Are you going to behave yourself?”

Angry at the way they were discussing her, but still horribly afraid, she faced them, fought the need to cover herself with her arms and, unable to hide her resentment, answered with a surly ‘Yes’.

“Say ‘Sir’,” Drake said.  “Put your hands on your head.”

Pam saw his gaze drop to her breasts as the movement lifted the two firm mounds and made their rosy points tilt further upwards.  He slid the rod over her skin from her belly to indent the round underside of her left tit.

“Well?”

Her head was still spinning and her heart thumping madly.  Pam took several seconds to understand.  “Yes, Sir,” she said at last, hating him for forcing the respectful word from her when all she felt was contempt.  Yet she feared him.

“She seems unusual for one of That Kind,” the Chief said.  “More often than not they’re panting hot and begging for it by now.  You don’t think she’s crazy, do you?”

Pam stared at him as another of her fears resurfaced.  Was he right?  What other explanation was there?  It had to be a hallucination.  She had been on an airplane above the Atlantic.  She had to be there still.  Then she remembered the blackness.

“Not crazy.  Just regretting her impulsiveness, I’d say,” Drake replied.

“Oh, please!” Pam blurted.  “Please, if only you’d listen for a minute I can explain.”

The pressure of the rod against her breast increased, lifting it higher.

“You’ve done enough explaining,” Drake said.  “You can start doing some obeying instead.  I’ll leave her to you, Alex.  I’ll come back in an hour.”

The Chief grinned.  “Think she’ll last that long?  Half of them are crying and begging to go home in the first ten minutes.”  He gave Pam a crooked smile.  “But she’s a strong one, I think.  She might see it through.”

It dawned on Pam they were not going to sexually assault her, but she had heard enough to fear whatever it was they intended almost as much.  She felt no relief when Drake laid the rod on the desk and opened the door.

“Come on then, Ann,” the Chief said, taking her arm in a grip as tight as Drake’s.  “I’ll introduce you to my Zulu girls.”