Midnight Hunting

"You should have gone with Daniel, Joshua," he said softly. "You could have had whatever you wanted. Instead, you made a foolish, selfish decision. You acted fearfully instead of responsibly. Now you'll face the consequences."

He removed the gag from Josh's mouth. Josh sputtered.

"I don't get it," he said plaintively. "What's going on?"

Avis laughed lightly. "Come on, Joshua," he said. "You must have had some notion of what we were doing. I didn't take you for an idiot."

"I just want out," Josh pleaded. "Please, I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner. Just let us go and I'll never think about any of this again."

"Unfortunately, we can't take that risk," said Mr Avis. "You've already proven yourself to be deeply untrustworthy. We're going to have to take care of you."

"Oh god," Josh sobbed.

"Don't worry," said Mr Avis, "we're not going to kill you. You'll live a long and productive life. You might even learn to find it fulfilling."

He straightened up and looked at Claire.

"You've brought us a fine final specimen, however," he said. "Your career was short, Joshua, but it was a good one."

He went to Claire and, almost absently, felt up her bare ass. She squirmed painfully against the crotch rope. He nodded to Taft. "We might as well start now," he said. "Clamp her, and send the truck over when it's done with the others."

He left the room. Mr Taft set down his briefcase, stood briefly in front of Claire, and then roughly tore off her bra. He passed it to Mr Durmonde, who carefully stowed it in a plastic bag.

From his briefcase Mr Taft produced two small clamps. Unable to see, Claire didn't know what was coming; when he clamped the first one to her bare breast, her scream tore through the gag. She struggled uselessly as he felt her other breast, squeezing the nipple before attaching the second clamp.

Josh could only watch helplessly.

"These will keep you good company," said Taft. He turned to go, and then - almost absently - tightened the rope that bound her to the ceiling, forcing her to strain on the very point of her toes.

They left, turning out the light. The room went pitch black.

"MORNINGFORD MANOR"

It was perhaps half an hour before the door re-opened, though it felt like eons. Three men Josh didn't know came into the room. They released Josh from the chair, and cut down Claire, using the crotch rope to drag her blindly out of the room.

Outside a windowless black van was waiting. Josh tried desperately to tell where he was. It looked like some abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere, which was not encouraging.

The back door of the van opened, and Josh and Claire were hauled inside. There were four girls already in the van, each gagged, blindfolded, and bound spread-eagled to the wall. One of them, Josh realized, was Zoe, naked now except for her white stockings. Each of them had cruel clamps on their bare breasts, matching Claire's.

Claire was bound into position with the others. Josh was shoved to his knees at the back of the van, his wrists still bound, and left there. The men closed the doors and climbed into the front of the van.

The vehicle started moving.

Josh spent the long trip in exuberant terror. In front of him five semi-naked girls squirmed, whimpered, and sobbed; he kept looking at Claire, helpless and nearly senseless, straining uselessly, trying to imagine what he could have done differently. Run away, hidden in back alleys? They'd have found him eventually. Gone along with the plan, abandoned Claire to her fate? He couldn't imagine it.

Should have told her to run, he thought grimly. Should have gone along with Danny and let her go home. Should have left her alone. Should never have brought her.

The van stopped. The van door opened.

Josh was dragged out first. His surroundings were totally unfamiliar - the middle of some forest, which suggested they'd travelled north a long ways. Before him, in a clearing shrouded by old-growth trees, was a sprawling and stately manor. Smoke rose, placidly, from a chimney.

A garage door had opened. The five girls were hauled out of the van and roped together at the neck, led like cattle, blind and stumbling, into the building. Josh was brought along with them.

Beyond the garage door was a spacious room, cold and concrete and windowless. The ceiling was lined with hooks and dangling chains. Josh watched, helplessly, as the girls were stripped of their few remaining clothes. Their wrists were locked behind them, and they were strung up to the ceiling, forced to bend painfully forward while their arms were hauled up behind them.

One of the men went to Zoe and, in one rough motion, pulled the clamps off her breasts. She screamed and thrashed helplessly, her breasts red and raw where the clamps had been attached. The other men methodically removed the clamps from the remaining girls, provoking a similar response in each. Josh was dragged to a wooden chair in the corner, bound to it, and abandoned. The lights went off. The room was plunged into total darkness.

Again Josh waited. It had still been night when they arrived; he had no sense of the passage of time now, but he suspected that morning must be approaching. He was exhausted, but sheer terror kept him from sleep.

When the door finally opened the intrusion of light was blinding. Josh had no sense of where he was being taken for several minutes.

When his eyes finally adjusted, he had a hard time comprehending what he was seeing. He appeared to have been brought to some kind of office. The floors were hardwood; early morning light shone through a large bay window; a fire crackled in a luxurious fireplace. A lean, almost gaunt man sat in an armchair behind a vast mahogany desk, toying with a cigarette in one hand.

There was a girl beside him. It took Josh a moment to realize that the girl was Trish. She was naked except for heels, what looked like a leather dog collar around her neck, and a fairly humiliating pair of cotton bunny ears on her head. There was a ballgag in her mouth. She was holding a tray with a pot of coffee and a cup in front of her.

The man behind the desk nodded as Josh was brought in and consulted a document in front of him.

"Joshua Havers," he said. "Welcome. We don't have much use for boys here, but don't worry, you will serve an important purpose."

"I -" said Josh.

The man raised a finger. "Let me introduce myself," he said. "My name is Richard Bleakenham, but you may call me Sir. It's very important, Mr Havers, that you listen to what I am about to say, because my instructions will make life much easier for you. Firstly, you will speak to me only when instructed. Is that clear?"

"Okay," Josh said in a nervous squeak.

"'Yes, sir' would be a more appropriate response," said Mr Bleakenham.

There was a moment of silence. "Yes, sir," said Josh.

"Wonderful," said Mr Bleakenham. "Now we're going to bring the girls in. Listen carefully to what I say to them, because most of it will apply to you as well. Proceed, gentlemen."

Josh was shoved to one side. The door opened and the five naked girls were paraded in and arranged in a line, hands bound behind them. With a flourish, each girl had their blindfold removed, and were able to see their surroundings for the first time. They blinked in uncertain terror.

"Good morning, girls," said Mr Bleakenham. "Welcome to Morningford Manor. My name is Mr Bleakenham, but all of you will refer to me as Sir. While you are at Morningford, you will follow the instructions of your superiors - meaning everyone, but especially me. Any failures of conduct will be punished. Gentlemen, would you please demonstrate to these ladies what sort of punishment they can expect?"

One of the men produced a small black rod from his pocket. He stood in front of Zoe, at one end of the line, who looked up at him with an expression of raw fear. He touched the rod to her bare pussy and depressed a button. She screamed and recoiled as an electric shock coursed through her.

The man proceeded to the next girl, who recoiled and was siezed from behind by one of the other men. She pleaded incoherently through her gag as the same punishment was administered to her.

Mr Bleakenham raised a finger and consulted the document in front of him.

"Ms Park here has committed an offence," he said, "in attempting to evade punishment. Gentlemen, please demonstrate to her and her friends the consequences of such an action."

The man forced the poor girl's legs apart with one gloved hand, sliding the rod between her legs until the tip of it entered her pussy. She sobbed helplessly, every muscle in her body straining, as he held it there for a moment, then depressed the button. She screamed and thrashed for a long moment.

The rod was removed. "I hope the rest of you will accept this lesson with more grace," said Mr Bleakenham.

Josh watched as the rod touched Claire's pussy, saw the tension in her face as she struggled to remain still in anticipation of pain. Her choking scream was quieter than the others.

"Good," said Mr Bleakenham when the last girl had been shocked. "Now that we understand each other, I'll explain your responsibilities here at Morningford. The first stage of your training will be in a group setting, under -" he consulted his papers - "Mr Pelt, also to be known as Sir to you. Those whose performance is satisfactory will progress to subsequent levels of training. Those who resist will experience escalating levels of pain, until they learn the importance of obedience. Let me hear you all say 'Yes, sir.'"

"Ymf, sr," came five muffled voices through five gags.

Mr Bleakenham waved his hand. "Show them to their rooms," he said.

He turned his attention to his papers as the girls were escorted out, absently pouring himself a cup of coffee from the tray Trish was holding. Josh noticed that her bare back and ass were covered in faint red welts. Her body was perfectly straight and stiff, except for a slight trembling in her shoulders.

"Now, Mr Havers," said Bleakenham at last. "There will be no group session for you. Instead, you'll be assigned to Mr Forthright. Rest assured that your stay here, should you cooperate, will be much more pleasant than that of those lovely young girls. Your work will begin this afternoon; I suggest you spend your free time resting and recovering your strength, as the coming weeks will be quite busy for you."

Josh said nothing. Bleakenham looked up and raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir," said Josh quickly.

"Good." Bleakenham looked down and waved his hand. Josh was escorted from the room.

His room turned out to be quite nice - small, but with a well-made bed, a nightstand, and a window with a view of the woods. The man escorting him left, shutting the door without a word. Josh heard the click of a lock.

He went to the window. It didn't open, he noticed, and the glass was about four inches thick.

The door opened. Josh turned. A naked girl, with heels, a collar, and bunny ears to match Trish, scurried into the room. She was carrying a tray with a covered platter and a cup. Josh didn't recognize her.

"Um, hi," said Josh.

She gave him a frightened glance, set the tray down on the nightstand, and scurried out. The door shut and the lock sounded again.

Josh lifted the cover. On the tray were three slabs of bacon, two pieces of toast, a fried egg, and a tasteful collection of fruit. The cup was full of bitter black coffee.

Josh hadn't realized how hungry he was. He ate ravenously. Then, remembering Mr Beakenham's words, he lay down and tried to sleep.

That turned out to be useless. His mind was racing with terrified anticipation of what was to come, riddled with uncertainty, messy with half-baked and hopeless plans of escape. He wondered what was happening to Claire. He wondered if she hated him, and then realized that she probably had no idea what his involvement had been.

He wondered what Danny Trips was thinking. When will he notice I'm missing? Josh wondered. Will he go to the police? Will they trace me here?

There was no clock in the room, but by the movement of the sun Josh figured it was about 9 AM when the door re-opened. A paunchy man in a casual blazer entered, flanked by two guards, and regarded Josh with pursed lips. He was holding a riding crop. Josh didn't like the look of that.

"Good morning," he said. "I am Mr Forthright. You are Joshua Havers."

"Um, hello," said Josh.

"You're nervous," said Mr Forthright. "Understandable. Still, I expect proper behaviour from you at all times. Refer to me as Sir, and answer only with 'Yes, Sir' or 'No, Sir' unless I specifically request more information. Understood, Mr Havers?"

"Yes, sir," said Josh, his throat bone-dry.

"Good," said Mr Forthright. "Now stand up and remove all of your clothes, please."

Trembling, Josh obeyed. After a moment he stood, totally naked and profoundly uncomfortable, in front of Mr Forthright. The man looked him up and down dispassionately.

"Good enough for now," he said. "Dress him up, boys."

The two bodyguards approached Josh, and before he knew what was happening, they'd siezed his arms and pulled them behind his back. His wrists were cuffed together; a ballgag was stuffed into his mouth; a collar was wrapped around his neck, and a leash attached, the end of which Mr Forthright took.

"Widen your stance for me, Mr Havers," said Forthright.

Sweaty with fear, Josh obeyed. In a single abrupt motion, Mr Forthright lashed upward with the riding crop, striking him firmly in the balls. Josh squealed and recoiled.

"That is for your failure to call me 'Sir' previously," said Forthright. "You can expect similar treatment for repeated failures. Let's go."

He tugged the leash. Josh stumbled after him.

They traveled through various lush hallways of the manor, proceeding downward, finally descending into a cool and dimly-lit basement. Mr Forthright paused in front of a door. "What I'm about to show you is for your own edification," he said. "You're probably cursing your present circumstances. But you're about to see what your situation *could* have been. It will, I hope, inspire gratitude."

He opened the door and led Josh through.

The space beyond was significantly larger than Josh had expected. It certainly exceeded the width and depth of the manor, and judging by the various doors scattered around the room, it extended even further, if not deeper. Josh realized that the manor was built on a warren of underground rooms.

This room was particularly striking. The room was lined with metal cages, stacked three high, in rows of at least a dozen, with passageways between to allow foot traffic. The cages were just large enough to permit a human being to crouch inside. And, indeed, many of the cages *were* occupied by human beings: row upon row of naked girls, trembling, unable to stand or even to move.

"This is where we keep our girls," said Forthright, leading Josh through the room. "I hope you appreciate the contrast with your own quarters. If that fact alone isn't inspirational to you, consider this: you will have the opportunity to advance to a more dignified position, while these girls have only the prospect of further degradation. I'm afraid you'll find the first part of your stay here unpleasant - trust me when I say it will get better. These girls have no such reassurance."

Josh was scanning the cages for Claire. He saw her, at last, curled up in a cage above Zoe, her face streaked with tears. She didn't look at him, and he didn't dare call out to her.

"Now," said Forthright, prodding Josh's chest with his crop, "let's see what we can do about you."

He brought Josh back upstairs, and out to the manor's expansive yard, stopping beside a pile of large concrete bricks. Josh's wrists were freed.

"Now," said Forthright, swishing his crop, "move those bricks to that pile over there."

"RE-EDUCATION"

One day Josh looked in the mirror, flexed, and was shocked to realize how good he looked.

He'd come a long way from moving bricks around in the yard. With the benefit of retrospect he'd come to appreciate what Mr Forthright had been doing that day: demonstrating to him that his tasks were arbitrary, not intended for mechanical benefit, but to make him a better member of Morningford.

At the time, though, the whole thing had been profoundly unpleasant. Josh had lugged bricks until his entire body ached, and Mr Forthright was not a merciful taskmaster. Josh endured countless lashes of the riding crop, with a particular focus on his genitals, which had left them raw and stinging. At last, as afternoon approached and Josh's body was an aching mass of welts, Forthright had told him to stop.

"It's time for lunch," he said.

Josh was brought to a lovely spot in the garden, where a table and chair rested under a willow. Forthright sat in the chair; Josh sat on the ground. Forthright rang a bell, and a moment later a statuesque blonde girl appeared, naked and collared as usual, carrying a tray of food. She set it on the table and then knelt in the grass at Forthright's feet. He made a gesture that she must have understood, because she fumbled briefly with his pants, withdrew his cock, and started to lick it.

Forthright took a bite of boiled egg, and then tossed it to the ground in front of Josh. Josh ate it eagerly.

"You see the hierarchy, I hope," that Forthright through a mouthful of sausage. "I eat off a plate. You eat off the ground. She," he put his hand in the girl's hair, "eats out of my cock."

He poured a glass of water and held it out. "Come on," he said, "have a drink. Hydrate."

That night Josh slept, aching and afraid.

Later, after nearly a week of pointless manual labour, Mr Forthright paused at the door to Josh's room.

"You've done well," he said. "I'd like to congratulate you, and to offer you a reward."

Josh waited silently. He knew better than to speak up.

"Go on," said Forthright, waving at the door.

Josh opened the door. Kneeling on the floor at the foot of his bed was a naked girl with thick red hair and a crop of freckles. Her wrists were bound to the posts, and her ankles were roped to her thighs, propping her on her knees. She looked desperately at Josh as he entered.

Forthright stood beside her and put his hand on her hair. "What's your name, little girl?" he said.

"Amy, Sir," she whimpered.

"Amy has been with us for nearly a month," said Forthright, addressing Josh. "Come here."

Josh approached nervously, unsure what was going to happen. Forthright gestured at the kneeling girl.

"Fuck her face," he said.

Josh stared at Amy. She stared back at him, helplessly.

Mr Forthright smiled.

"Do it quickly, Joshua," he said, "or your evening will pass much differently."

Josh approached the bed, slowly, Amy watching him with frightened eyes. He was almost ashamed of how quickly his cock was swelling. He paused in front of her, the tip of his member brushing her face. She closed her eyes and, timidly, opened her mouth.

"Proceed," said Mr Forthright.

Josh slid his cock into her mouth.

"Ulp," she said, as he began to slowly slide in and out. Forthright watched the process intently. After a moment he said: "Come, Joshua, you can do better than that. Harder. Don't you want to feel the back of her throat?"

"Ulp ulp ulp," Amy gasped as Josh accelerated, faster and faster as Forthright calmly urged him on, until he was slamming his cock down her throat as fast as he could. Tears poured down her face, but she kept her mouth open and her pretty brown eyes on Josh's face. He couldn't look away. He was ashamed of what he was doing, but it felt *incredible*. He'd spent the past week too terrified to jack off; all of his repressed sexual energy was surging back to the fore.

"Choke her out," Forthright advised.