William Thornbury’s grief at the loss of his so beautiful wife from
breast cancer knew no bounds. His
daughter, Frances, had also felt the loss of her mother but she tried her best
to console the father she loved so much.
On a practical plane, he understood
very well that he needed to snap out of his malaise and get on with his life;
but on an emotional level and despite the best efforts of his so wonderful
daughter, he found it exceedingly difficult to face the world.
Frances was in every respect, a wonderful
young lady: intelligent, top of her class at school and now at university where
she was studying physical education; beautiful, in a delightful, homely way;
and with a body that was so close to being perfect in every respect that when
she was seen in her bikini, everyone stopped and looked – and then looked
When she realised just how badly her
father had been affected by the death of her mother, she pulled the pin on her
studies and came home to be with him in his grief.
Of course their servants, headed by
the butler, Charles Bradbury and his wife Amelia who was their cook, also tried
their best to make life as easy as possible for their employer but while he appreciated
the efforts of both his daughter and his staff he just couldn’t snap out of his
William was a billionaire many times
over. His wealth had been partly
inherited from a series of ancestors who had carefully nurtured the estate down
through the generations and he himself had added another ten percent to its
total value. He owned vast estates both
in the country and the cities of England as well as overseas; but he also was
the sole proprietor of a number of large enterprises including an international
airline, a five-star hotel chain and a very profitable cruise line, to name
just a few of them.
He did not however preside over this
enormous enterprise from the top floor of a London tower building, preferring a
small secretariat attached to his study in the house.
It was situated in a beautiful part of
Hertfordshire in the centre of an enormous estate which, unlike so many
belonging to the old aristocracy and landed gentry, was still in its original
grant from some long distant king.
His office suite was headed up by his
PA, Peter Scott, who had a degree in business administration but was also
possessed of an uncanny insight that was of enormous benefit to William in
making decisions as to the future of this company or that. There was also a typist as well as a gofer,
this last a young man by the name of Jerry Plant, who although only twenty-five
years old, was already an expert in achieving the impossible and was an
indispensable part of William’s small staff.
All of these men and women combined
with Frances to get William through this so terrible part of his life. You may be wondering that a man who was so
accomplished as a businessman and member of the landed gentry of England, could
be so horribly affected by the death of his wife. The thing was, theirs was a marriage truly
made in heaven and it had lasted almost forty years without even a bump. Her cancer had been sudden and virulent and
it had taken only months and she was gone from them.
But then he had met Angelique.
Angelique Montessa was not her real
name of course. But her agent had
persuaded her that Gladys Barnes was no name for an up-and-coming actress and
so Angelique Montessa was born.
She had been born in the slums of
London but was determined to succeed.
She had the benefit of good looks and a near-perfect body. She was also very intelligent and attended
elocution and acting lessons and did very well at them and by the time she was
twenty-one, she had attracted the eye of casting directors and had already had
extremely good, if not starring roles in a number of films.
She knew of William Thornbury, of
course. This young woman had set her
aims high from the time of her youth on the streets of inner London and so she
had made every effort to court the aristocracy and landed gentry of England.
She had of course read of the death of
William’s wife and so investigated him even more deeply than usual and was
thrilled to discover the extent of his wealth.
And so she engineered herself into his path.
For all his grief, he had not become a
recluse. That would have been impossible
given that he knew well that he still had to run his enormous business
enterprise and that meant trips to London not to mention overseas at times.
Angelique kept a close watch on his
movements and managed to secure an invitation to a function she knew he would
be attending. And now she showed the
true mastery she possessed as an actress.
She didn’t gush when introduced to him, but played the role of a perfect
And for the first time since Mary’s
death, he actually perked up a little, to the shock of his PA who then took a
second and third look at this beautiful young woman. His first instincts were spot-on. He distrusted her from the first moment he
saw her and from that moment on, continued to do so – to no avail.
William was smitten. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight for the
rest of the reception and invited her down to The Folly, his huge estate in
Hertfordshire, where, again playing the consummate actress, she successfully courted
them all, excepting only Peter Scott who, wise and perspicacious as he was,
pretended to as lively a delight in her as did everybody else.
The weekend extended, and extended,
and extended again. She was particularly
assiduous in courting Frances who, although possessed of a fine intelligence
and shrewdness, was taken in like everybody else.
I’m sure you can guess the outcome of
this ‘chance’ meeting between William and the young seductress? Yes of course you can. In six months they were engaged and three
months later, married.
Angelique began to fulfil the role of
second wife and stepmother very carefully.
She made sure that Frances understood that she was there if the young
woman wished to talk but would not otherwise intrude. And it was the same with the servants. She never attempted to instantly become the
‘lady of the house’, never issuing orders but always as charming with them as
she was with everybody else.
Of course she was well aware that
marriage automatically voids previous wills.
But she never once discussed this subject or indeed anything at all to
do with William’s enormous wealth with him.
As will now be obvious she was indeed an extraordinarily intelligent
young woman. She had set her sights on
his wealth but she wasn’t going to jeopardise her ambitions by premature or precipitant
actions or words.
Naturally, she also played the role of
sexual partner to William once he had decided that he was not being disloyal to
Mary by taking his new wife to his bed.
Having been born on the streets of
inner London, she was very well aware of the power her body would have over men
and she very carefully used it to inflame William while at the same time acting
as the demure young wife to an older man.
But as his conscience slowly receded in
the knowledge that Mary was gone and that this incredibly beautiful young woman
was now his wife, he invited her to his bed and there she showed him treats and
experiences he hadn’t even dreamed existed.
Of course he was smitten all over
again and now doted on her to the exclusion of all else, even neglecting his
former almost religious duty of overseeing the management of his various
Peter Scott watched all this with
growing alarm but he hid it well, at least to his employer. Angelique was a different question
however. She was as crafty as a fox and
knew almost instantly that Peter had seen through her. She didn’t show it by even the smallest of
signs and continued to treat him as a most valuable associate of her husband.
This state of affairs went on for the
next year and during that time she still had no idea where she stood in the
event of her husband’s demise. And so
she planned accordingly. It stood to
reason that Frances would be the principal beneficiary of his will. She surmised that he might well provide for
her rather well, but that wasn’t good enough for her. She wanted it all no matter what.
Planning his death was easy. There are so many poisons around that are
nondetectable but she was even more careful than that. She surreptitiously investigated his health
down to the last ache and pain, discovering that he did have some heart
problems. Not necessarily serious but
requiring daily medication. She stored
that fact in her arsenal for the future.
But she also had to consider the
position of Frances. Her husband could
be disposed of quite easily but the daughter was another matter but in any case
she had another reason to want to keep her alive.
What nobody in the world knew was that
she was secretly gay and had been struck with an instant infatuation (you
couldn’t call it love for she didn’t love anybody) for Frances the moment she
met her. Of course, she didn’t let on by
thought, deed or word of that desire, treating her stepdaughter in exactly the
right way she considered a stepmother ought to.
And once again everybody was fooled.
At least everybody except Peter Scott, that is.
Frances therefore had to live. And so she came up with a diabolical plan
that would allow the girl her life, but reduce her almost to a mindless zombie.
First of all, the poison that was going to slowly kill her husband
without his doctor being aware of it.
She researched this very carefully, using a second tablet that she kept
hidden in a very secret part of her handbag.
And she never used it whilst in the house.
Once she had decided on the drug she
would use on him, she turned her attention to Frances. This was even easier and from then on she
began ‘treating’ both her husband and her stepdaughter to achieve heart failure
on the part of the former and signs of madness in the latter.
Once again, she was eminently
successful and William gradually weakened to the point he didn’t even want to
get up in the morning while at the same time, the once vivacious and eminently
cheerful Frances became depressed and moody and was prone to fits of rage.
And so when William died, Angelique
upped the dose to his daughter, sending her right off the planet and resulting
in Frances being transferred to a psychiatric clinic she had researched and
contacted with a view to admitting the girl for inpatient treatment. And this she had carefully discussed with the
chief therapist who, her researches had discovered, was into rather kinky
activities with female patients. This
was exactly what she was looking for.
Frances didn’t even make her father’s
funeral for by this time she was now an inpatient in the very secret basement
wards of the clinic.
The funeral over and Angelique
continuing to play the mourning widow, the family solicitor came to read the
will which of course, as Angelique had surmised, left Frances as the principal
beneficiary but with Angelique provided with life tenancy of The Folly unless
and until she remarried, and with a substantial fortune on which to live.
But with Frances now certified insane
by two tame doctors at the clinic, this left Angelique as trustee for the whole
For the moment, she made no changes to
the staff at The Folly – except for one.
She sent for Peter Scott a few days after the funeral and informed him
that as he had been the personal assistant to her husband, there was obviously
no role for him now that William had died.
She was pleasant and indicated that he would receive a bonus of two
months pay and thanked him for his past service to her husband.
Neither of them was fooled but Peter
resolved to do everything in his power to unmask the perfidy of this evil woman
whom he blamed both for his former employer’s demise and the so-called madness
of his daughter. He didn’t even know
where to start but decided to call on a friend of his in the fraud squad at
They parted on good terms because
Peter wanted to keep open a line of communication just in case.
But now Angelique proceeded to put in
place her real aims for The Folly and its new de jure chatelaine, now incarcerated in the nearby clinic.
Angelique had visited this so-called medical institution a couple of
times, ostensibly to check it out as a place of ‘treatment’ for her
stepdaughter, but really to suss out the chief therapist whom her contact had
identified as being a specialist in rather extreme ‘treatments’.
She had then invited him to meet her
outside the clinic but later realised this wasn’t necessary as the whole ethos
of this place was to deal with unwanted members of the upper classes of
England. It was under the protection of
the establishment and it is said, that even the government sent certain women
here for a ‘treatment’.
They met in a small coffee shop that
had private booths but they still spoke in near whispers. She quickly recognised that this man was
perfect for what she had in mind for Frances.
“I think, Mr Jones, that we are of
like minds as regards the treatment of certain young women. So far as young Miss Thornbury is concerned,
rigorous mind-bending coupled with extreme hard exercise to result in a perfect
body but with a mind that is conditioned to obedience and certainly no will of
He smiled and Angelique shuddered at
the expression, very glad it wasn’t her who would be suffering under this man’s
ministrations. “Oh yes, Mrs Thornbury, I
know exactly what you mean and we have the facilities in our secret basement to
provide exactly the treatment you desire for this slut.
“Electric shocks to the temples and to
the genital organs will be a daily part of her treatment. So will the cane to her buttocks, the whip to
her breasts (which we call udders when addressing them) and the cane to her
vagina and anus also figure largely in it.”
“I wonder if it would be possible for
me to visit and observe some or all of these treatments, Mr Jones?”
“Of course, Mrs Thornbury. With clients such as you who obviously
appreciate the value of our work with such sluts as this one, we very much
welcome them to come and observe as this underlines to the ‘patient’ that she
has no chance at all of escaping our tender mercies and that it will go on
until they finally succumb and their minds are now broken to your will.”
“Excellent! That is exactly what I was hoping for. I take it you do not permit clothing for them
during the treatment, is that right?”
“Of course. The total removal of their clothing is seen
as one of the essential elements in the treatment of these sluts. Shame and pain are potent weapons in the
breaking down of a recalcitrant mind and turning it into a totally subservient
“And will the treatment last?”
“That depends on the individual, on
the continuation of the treatment once at home and a number of other factors. In your case it might be appropriate for one
of our young therapists to accompany her home and to oversee her life. This should ensure that she remains your
slave for as long as you wish…”
“Slave… What a thought. I suppose though, that is really what she
will be, isn’t it?”
“Many families have girls with real
problems and for that matter, boys as well.
We treat both but my specialty is the females and, if I say so myself, I
believe I am rather good at converting fractious girls into compliant
females. The depth of the treatment
determines whether they may be allowed to mix socially or be contained in a
special part of the house. I believe you
wish this girl to be given the full treatment?”
“Indeed I do. She will be confined to my suite and will
serve as a lowly housemaid during the day but at night I have other plans for
her, which I suspect you may well be aware of?”
Again he smiled and again she
shuddered. “Oh yes, I was aware of this
from the beginning of our discussions.
You may be assured she will be conditioned to providing you with the
very best service you could expect from any woman in your bed.”
“Very well, then I will bring her to
you tomorrow morning and will be interested to watch as you begin her
transition from a wealthy young heiress to a naked slut servant and sex-slave…”
“I will look forward to receiving her
tomorrow and thank you for the coffee.”
Although Peter had distrusted her motives, he couldn’t challenge her
removal of the young mistress to the clinic.
She had explained to all the staff that Frances’s behaviour had
deteriorated so much that proper medical treatment was now necessary.
No one disagreed with her but all
mourned the fact that their wonderful young mistress had so changed as to now
require this treatment. She took her
there herself in the Daimler and upon arrival asked for Mr Jones who arrived in
short order and taking hold of Frances’s arm, invited Angelique to follow them
No-one at reception turned a hair at
this and now Angelique realised that one part of this place was really devoted
to the treatment of recalcitrant upper-class young men and women and that the rest
of the psychiatric clinic was just a cover.
She also realised that for it to continue unchallenged, it must have the
support and approbation of people very high up in the establishment of England.
They moved from a decor of soft
pastels and thick carpet together with fine furniture, through to bare concrete
floors, walls and ceilings, steel doors and no windows. Here she saw naked young men and women being
dragged along the corridors and into and out of various rooms. So did Frances and she now realised what it
was her stepmother was bringing her to.
She fought against John Jones’ grip on
her arm but it was fruitless. He was a
very tall, very muscular and obviously very strong man of just forty-two years
and in the prime of his life. He was
used to dealing with violent young women and he turned on Frances now, slapping
her face hard with his free hand from right to left and left to right and then
right to left again, pushing his own face right into hers and informing her
that she had better behave or suffer the consequences.
She backed down quickly, realising
that this man was far, far stronger than she was and that she was helpless in
his hands. He pushed her into a bare
room, again concrete floor, walls and ceiling and steel door. He slammed and locked the steel door behind
him and put the key in his pocket. And
then, while Angelique looked on, smiling in approval, he fairly ripped
Frances’s clothing from her body, smirking as more and more of it was revealed
to him and copping a feel of her so perfect breasts, buttocks and even her
sexual organs as each became exposed.
Her clothing became mere rags and
while she screamed and fought against his superior strength, she knew it was a
losing battle and in time she was totally naked, her face blushing furiously
and her whole body shaking in the shame of being stripped in front of her
stepmother by this horrible man.
Now that she was stark naked, Jones
stepped back and crossed his muscular arms across his chest and staring in
pleasure at the vision of loveliness that now cringed in shame, her legs
crossed one over the other to hide her sex and her arms across her
breasts. She glanced at her stepmother
and was shocked to see the lust now patently obvious on her face and suddenly
she realised that this woman had murdered her father and now confined her to
this terrible place probably to train her to become her sex-slave.
But she didn’t have that much time to
contemplate this terrible thought for Jones now screamed at her: “Stand up
straight, slut. Legs apart! Wider!
Much wider! Hands up behind your
head! Elbows back! Stand up straight! Don’t look at me. Fix your eyes on a point on the wall and
don’t move them away.”
She was crying now, under the
battering of these orders and demands but she obeyed them because she now
observed that he had a cane in his hands.
She had no idea where he had picked this up from but he was now swishing
it through the air and she had no doubts that it was intended for her body.
Angelique watched all this with a raw
and potent joy flooding through her mind and body. Oh yes!
This was perfect. And just look
at that body. She would like just a tiny
bit more muscle and a fining down of that admittedly very thin layer of fat
until it was an athlete’s dream and the muscles nicely apparent but Mr Jones
had assured her that this was eminently possible and achievable and now that
she had watched his methods, she had no doubt of his abilities. What she was now looking forward to was the
first of the mind-bending tortures this wonderful man was going to perpetrate
on that magnificent body in the interests of taming her and converting her into
the perfect sex-slave.
Once he had achieved his ends in
frightening the girl into mindless obedience, he turned to Angelique and
invited her to come and watch the next process.
“We don’t allow body hair on any of our slave-trainees, Mrs
Thornbury. Accordingly we will now take
her to the hot tank and there dip her continuously until all her bodily hairs
are permanently removed.”
Angelique gasped and then a slow smile
formed all over her face. “Perfect,” she
said gloatingly. “Let’s do it.”
Jones unlocked the door and leaving
the rags of her former clothing where they were, dragged her out along the
corridor past other naked female and male slaves (for that is what they were
now referred to and to all intents and purposes that’s what they now were) also
being dragged this way or that and all showing fear and in some cases terror at
where they were going.
The hot tank room was at the end of
the corridor and like every other room on that level, was stark concrete. The tank itself was round, a metre in
diameter and two metres deep and over it stood a gantry that allowed the victim
to be secured into the harness, raised up, and then the gantry swung back so
that the slave was perched right over the steaming liquid in the tank. This they did to Frances now, securing her in
the harness and then operating the electric winch so that she was drawn up off
the floor, another button pressed to move the gantry right over the tank and
then she was dropped down rapidly into the ultra-hot fluid.
She screamed as her feet and then her
legs and body disappeared down into the red fluid until her mouth was almost
immersed at which her descent stopped, she was left there for about thirty
seconds screaming blue murder at the heat and the intense itching from the
liquid and then she was brought up as fast as she had formerly descended. She was left hanging there in the harness for
about a minute and then dropped back down into it again.
This was repeated for an hour and by
the end of it all signs of hair on her legs, her vulva and her armpits were