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From: np98rb@mail.telepac.pt (Christine & David Stevenson)
Subject: Under Control part twenty-six of twenty eight
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Under Control - part twenty-six of twenty eight
by mailto: VictorBruno@mschristine.com

this story remains copyright Victor Bruno, release to publish
granted to Christine Stevenson.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Karen had been right. The afternoon stints were worse. It was
much hotter for one thing. Frankly he was amazed how some of the
girls kept going as they did. Sheer terror drove them on, of
course. 

In the afternoon Paul was teamed with another girl . . . a girl
as buxom and blonde as Delia herself. Paul was much enamoured of
the shape of her and, on odd occasions, got a strange sort of
pleasure-satisfaction out of toiling alongside this lush
creature. But even more satisfying was the fact that the blonde
was much tougher and stronger than Karen. If anything, on
occasions, she seemed to be doing the lion's share rather than
the other way round. 

Thus they escaped Delia's eagle eye though, during the course of
the afternoon, Paul heard three other couples being flayed over
the framework. He didn't take the time to look so was unaware
that young Karen was getting it again.

In the last hour of the second session, Delia fancied a little
exercise so she changed her tactics. She descended from the dais
and strolled among the teams. Ever and anon, her tawse would
crack out like a pistol shot as she laid it here and there at
random. Both Paul and his companion were the recipient of two or
three such strokes - but it scarcely seemed that either deserved
them.

The relief at returning at last to the slave farm was immense.
They showered again, drank greedily and were fed. Then it was
back into the cells, securely chained. Even those hard bleak
places seemed a delightful haven of rest. Like the rest of them
in his cell, Paul sprawled in exhaustion and was soon fast
asleep.

He was awakened by the sound of the door being unlocked. One of
the girls was taken out to receive an extra punishment. Paul felt
sympathy yet also relief that it was not he who was to suffer.
Half an hour later the girl came back her eyes red with tears.
She had, he gathered, received a fifteen-stroke caning.

The day ahead seemed all too near already.

                                   * * *

After three more days, Paul had acclimatised himself considerably
to the slogging toil. Though it was still grinding, back-breaking
work, it did not seem quite so bad as on the first day.

Nevertheless, on the fourth day, largely because of the weakness
of his partner, Paul had to pay another visit to the dais to get
another murderous belting from Delia.

"If I catch you slacking again," she warned, "you'll get the cane
as well."

Paul could only pray that luck would be with him and he would get
strong partners in the succeeding days. But, unfortunately for
Paul, prayer was not enough. On the sixth day Delia pounced
again. Once more the pine needles in his belly, once more the
searing leather contorting him. Worst of all, Delia's dire words
when she had finished with him.

"You'll be down in the Punishment Room this evening," she said,
her blue eyes glinting.

                                   * * *

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 


This story is being released as an illustrated web book, for
details of Victor Bruno Books available please contact

VictorBruno@MsChristine.com
http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html

Also published as text simultaneously on......

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