Submission

Submission
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ISBN:  9781780800790
Author:  Ray Gordon
Word Count:  95,194
Format:  eBook

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Sexual RevengeSexual Revenge
Sexual ServiceSexual Service
Sinful DeceitSinful Deceit

Her arms aching, Emily could do nothing to fight Fowler off as he released her and paraded her before the table. She remained still as he roped her ankles to the table legs and bent her over. Pulling her arms across the table he tied her wrists to two metal rings...

In a time in the not too distant future, feared Correction Centres have been established by the male dictatorship to control any militant females with corporal punishment, bondage and sexual submission. The most loathed of the government's officials are the sadistic Fowler and the equally sadistic Swain, his lesbian associate.

But when the head of the resistance movement, Hannah Kelley, captures Fowler, the pendulum swings for a while, only for Fowler to escape and take Hannah as his captive - so now she is completely at his mercy.

'I want Hannah Kelley!' Evans stormed, banging his fist on the table.
   'And you'll have her,' Fowler promised. 'We've caught one of her best women, Emily Johnson. She knows everything there is to know about Kelley and the EFW, where her base is, the names of her members, her movements - everything. I'm going to the centre to see Johnson later this morning and I promise you that the EFW, along with Hannah Kelley, will very soon be history.'
  'This mustn't get out, Ron. No cock-ups. If the people knew about your so-called Correction Centres, there'd be an uprising, and one that we couldn't stop. Rumours are already rife about your methods. The last thing I want is the truth coming out about...'
   'My methods are efficient and effective.'
   'That's as maybe, but people won't stand for sexual abuse. Sexual torture. The eyes of the world are upon us.'
   'There is no sexual torture.'
   'Isn't there? I'm not stupid, Ron. I know what's going on in your centres, and so do a lot of other people.'
   'They think they know. Anyway, as you said, they're just rumours, and they'll come to an end as soon as I get my hands on Kelley.'
   'I don't want unnecessary trouble. Apart from the resistance groups we're doing very well. Unemployment is virtually nil, most women are happy to play the role of housewife, we no longer have to put up with squabbling politicians, taxes are... I want Kelley stopped, Ron! I want her stopped now!'
   'She will be, I promise you - she will be. If you'd let me deal with her before she'd gone into hiding eight months ago, this problem would never have arisen.'
   'Taking people out, as you put it to me at the time, isn't the way to do things. I don't want to lose face among the people. Without them, I'm nothing, don't you see that?'
   'I could have got rid of Kelley calmly and quietly. No one would have known anything about it.'
   'She disappears from the face of the earth and no one asks any questions, is that what you're saying?'
   'As I suggested at the time, we could have got a lookalike and put her on TV to finish these bloody resistance groups once and for all.'
   'It would have been too risky. Times have changed, Ron. The world won't tolerate well-known people like Hannah Kelley disappearing without a trace. And as for a lookalike, how long do you think you could get away with it? A month, a year? The only way to deal with the EFW is to capture Kelley. Without her, and her top women, the group will fall apart. Morale will decline and the other groups will fade into oblivion. Subtlety, Ron, that's the answer. Not torture, murder, it's no good. Look at the bomb you planted in the Underground. Hannah Kelley and the EFW were blamed for that and they lost a lot of their credibility over it. Now go and see this Emily Johnson and don't come back to me until you know where Kelley's headquarters are.'
   Opening the heavy door, Swain grinned at Emily. 'Smith is here to prepare you for Mr Fowler,' she leered. 'Where is Hannah Kelley? Tell me now, and you'll save yourself from...'
   'Go to hell!'
   'Do your stuff, Smith. Mr Fowler will be here in an hour or so. You know what he wants - what he likes.'
   Banging the door shut, Swain left Emily alone with Smith, a greying man in his mid-sixties wearing a wicked grin. Moving towards her, he dumped a black case at her feet. 'You're a fine young specimen,' he declared, opening the case. 'It'll be a shame to let Fowler get hold of you.'
   'You could help me,' Emily whimpered as he pulled an electronic depilator from the bag. Switching the device on, he moved it over the triangle of soft hair below her smooth stomach.
   'No, no. In this world, it's look after number one. Dozens of young women in your position have asked me to help them. Where would I be if I'd let them all go free? Dead, that's where! I'll tell you one thing, though,' he added with a slight smile as he watched the black curls fall to the floor. 'Should you decide to tell Mr Fowler whatever it is he wants to know, it won't do you any good. He's an evil man. He wants your body, and he'll have it. Whether you cough up the information or not, he'll have his way with you. If you'd told that lesbian, Swain, what she wanted to know, you might have been slightly better off. She took a fancy to you. You'd have been better off in her hands than in Mr Fowler's, believe me!'
   Removing the last vestiges of pubic foliage from Emily's soft cunt lips, Smith looked up and smiled. 'There, just like a schoolgirl! Just the way Fowler likes it. He appreciates the female form, you see. He likes to see what women have got between their legs. It's permanent, by the way. As I've told dozens of others I've prepared for Fowler, and as I will tell the dozens to come, no doubt, your little curls will never grow again. You women are stupid - fools to yourselves. Why not stay at home and clean and cook for the men instead of putting yourselves through this? Why this insistence on working, earning money and pursuing a career? Men earn good money now. Why not submit, give up this futile struggle and live life to the full?'
   'Because we don't want to live under Evans's rule! We don't want a dictator, a bastard like Evans telling us what we can and can't do, that we can't work! It's our right to work!'
   'It's not Evans, it's Mr Fowler. Evans is all right, really. He had some kind of vision of getting the country back on its feet. He's a good man, at heart. He doesn't know exactly what Mr Fowler gets up to. If he did, he'd have him removed. Mind you, without Fowler, Evans would lose control. Mr Fowler seems to be the driving force behind him.'
   Emily lowered her head and gazed between her legs at the silky-smooth skin of her young vaginal lips. Grinning at her tears, Smith stood up and lifted her chin. 'I've not finished yet,' he whispered. 'You see, before Mr Fowler defiles the girls, I take my pleasure with them. He doesn't know, of course. Some have told him, but he doesn't believe them for several reasons. Firstly, he thinks I'm too old. Secondly, he believes me to be totally loyal. And besides, I'm his stepfather. Evil as he is, he has to take care of me. He wouldn't want to see his mother upset, you see.'
   'You filthy pervert!' Emily screamed as Smith unzipped his trousers to display his hard penis.
   'Keep calm and enjoy it. Some women really love it, they say I'm big, they say that they've never had anyone so good.'
   'Bastard! You're not big, you're just a sick, ugly old man!'
   As Smith's thick penis slipped between her naked pussy lips and disappeared deep into her tight vagina, Emily gasped. He was big, too big, filling, stretching, and, to her horror, she did find herself enjoying it. The chains around her wrists brought her new sensations, lewd sensations she'd never known existed, let alone thought she would enjoy. Torn between fear and pleasure, she closed her eyes and uttered words of satisfaction as he clung to her young slender body, mouthed her hard nipples and massaged her tightening sheath with his hardness, bringing her ever closer to her inevitable climax.
   Grunting, thrusting into her chained body, Smith shuddered and pumped out his sperm as Emily trembled in the beginnings of her own orgasm. Her clitoris pulsating, her muscles spasming, gripping the hardness within her used vagina, she breathed her gratification as her clitoris burst with sensation and sexual pulsations consumed her entire body.
   Gasping for breath, she fell limp, hanging from her chains like a rag doll. 'That was incredible!' she panted as Smith withdrew his thick penis from her sheath. 'Let me go and we can...'
   'I knew you'd like it. You're the sort who enjoys a real man,' he declared, standing back to exhibit the sheen of her juices on his huge member. 'I only wish I could let you go and have you all to myself - save you from Mr Fowler.'
   'You can, please, you have to save me! We could run together.'
   'No, we can't. He's looking forward to you. The first member of the EFW group to be captured, he's looking forward to you very much. I'll let you into a secret, though. Make out that you enjoy whatever he does to you, and it'll be better for you. Show pain, and he'll inflict more pain, show pleasure and he'll bring you more pleasure. Put all you've got into it, make the appropriate noises, writhe and all that, and it'll be better for you. Remember that.'
   Pulling two metal clamps from his bag, he fixed them to her nipples and smiled. 'Fowler likes this sort of thing,' he laughed, taking two chains from the bag and connecting them to clamps. 'He's a strange one,' he continued as he hung two heavy weights from the chains. 'Perverted isn't strong enough a word for him. I think sick describes him better.'
   Emily winced as he released the weights and stood back to admire his handiwork. Her nipples stretched, her rounded breasts now taut cones of flesh, she wondered fearfully about her future, her destiny. 'Enjoy yourself,' Smith proffered sarcastically as he picked up his bag and left the room. 'And watch out for Mr Fowler's strange fetish for young girls' tight bottoms!'

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