At last, exhausted, the slave crumpled down to the carpet. She was half unconscious and neither insults nor blows could pull her out of her immobility. So they took off her gag and bonds and laid her on a sofa to enable her to come to.
'Well, slave, do you still want to disobey me or do you want another little walk like the one you've just had?'
An expression of intense terror flashed in Myriam's pretty eyes.
'Oh, no, Mistress, please not that, not that! I'm ready to satisfy you in everything but don't torture me any more I beg you!'
That's fine. A while ago I had ordered you to open your month as a spittoon for me. Are you ready to obey that order now?
At once, the girl opened her scarlet mouth. With sadistic joy Eva Crimpton bent down and spat into the offered mouth. Dorothea von Berner and Bridget followed suit.
'You see,' Eva mocked, 'you were made to submit to all my whims without discussing them, even the moat degrading ones. I'll forgive you for your disobedience but you will have to keep on your discipline panties till to- night. And now, I shall take you to my room so that I can dress you up as I fancy. Then you will begin your apprenticeship for becoming my maid of all work. Follow me!
With a horsewhip in her hand, she went out of the room, followed by Myriam.
A few hours later the same girl, strictly corseted, wearing boots up to mid-thigh, and with a discipline-bit in her mouth, was looking after the plump mistress like the most submissive of slaves. Once more, the magical force of the whip bad produced its effect. There were now two slaves in Kelingson castle.
In the course of the same day, Bridget, who had a day off, was to receive a few girl-friends for tea. The maid had received permission to organise her reception in a small hunting-lodge at the bottom of the park and to use Mabel's services, whom Miss von Berner had put at her disposal.
The poor slave was still doing penance, kneeling in the toilets, when Bridget came to fetch her. She had to accompany the maid in her room, helping her to change her dress and underclothes. To honour her guests Bridget had made herself beautiful. She was wearing a sky-blue dress with a white her hair and made up her face she checked how her slave was dressed and made her put on a black satin skirt stopping at knee-level, a lace bonnet and a maid's apron.
'To-day,' she said, 'you're my maid. You're going to follow me to the lodge where you will bring tea, port wine and cakes, which I've prepared. And when my friends come, don't forget to kneel down in front of them and to clean with your tongue the dust off their shoes. Then you will take their coats off them and you'll tell them: 'Ladies, I am Miss Bridget's slave and, under the orders of my mistress, I have the honour to put myself at your disposal to serve you and obey all your orders. If I don't satisfy you as you wish, I beg you to punish me very severely and thank you for it. Understood?'
'Yes, Your Ladyship.'
'To-day, I Won't let you call me 'Your Ladyship'. You will call me 'Mistress', do you hear?'
'Yes, Mistress.'
'Good. Follow me!'
A few minutes later, Bridget, comfortably reclining on a sofa in the hunting-lodge, was waiting for her guests while chiding her slave, kneeling in front of her.
The girl-friends she was expecting were four: first, there was May Colaon, a pretty twenty-year-old blonde with an arch expression, who was employed by the neighbouring castle-owners as a maid; then there was Roberta Grey, a robust young woman, very vulgar, who lived in London as a prostitute and whom Bridget had known a long time for they had been born in the same village. Then there was Gladys Smith, a thirty-five-year-old woman who used to be a maid but now lived with her lover, a bad character of the village. She was accompanied by her daughter, a fourteen-year-old girl, bold-looking and who had a very bad reputation in the village.
It is easy to understand what a humiliation it was for the former heiress who had become a slave, to be obliged to stoop in front of those vulgar women with whom, a few months earlier, she would not hare shaken hands.
The four guests arrived together and, laughing, went into the room where Bridget was expecting them. Bridget had already told them about everything and they knew what to expect, and it can be easily appreciated how pleased and thrilled they were at the idea of a young woman from the aristocracy serving them.
Lashed by a violent blow from the horsewhip, high society acting as their maid and slave. Mabel had to prostrate herself in front of the women and repeat word for word the humiliating sentence she had learnt.
'Lick these ladies' feet, bitch!' Bridget ordered.
First, the slave knelt down in front of May and put her lips on the blond girl's elegant varnished shoes. The girl looked at her despisingly.
'Better than that!' she ordered suddenly. 'Don't you see that there is still some dust left! You fool? And under the soles? Can't you clean my shoes better than that?'
Under the quips and laughs of the girls, Mabel completed the cleaning with her tongue. Then she knelt down in front of Roberta, the prostitute, and licked her black buckskin shoes. Then came Gladys Smith's turn. Exhausted and with her tongue all coated with dust, Mabel was about to stand up when Gladys seized her rudely by the hair.
'Well, is that all?' she exclaimed, furious. 'And my daughter, aren't you going to salute her? Even though she's only fourteen, you owe her respect, you slave!'
Mabel, in despair, knelt down in front of the sniggering flapper and licked her dirty shoes!'
'Slap her face, Molly,' Bridget said, 'slap her hard to punish her for her lack of courtesy towards you!'
The child did not have to hear the invitation twice — her little hand shot out with violence and slapped Mabel's cheeks six times.
May was laughing her head off.
'It's wonderful to have a slave!' she cried. 'I'd lore to teach my employer to serve me like this! What a vengeance that would be!'
'And you know,' Bridget added, 'she is perfectly tamed, you can ask her to do, anything you like. Why, even if you spat in her face, she'd be grateful.'
'Well, let's try and see!' the blond said.
She bent down and spat twice on Mabel's face, and her saliva, mixed with lipstick, ran down the slave's cheeks.
'Now, what do you say?' she asked, provocatively.
'Thank you, madam,' Mabel whispered, almost sobbing.
Roberta was examining the slave.
'She's funnily dressed, isn't she?' she remarked.
'She's dressed the way a slave should be to serve her mistresses,' Bridget answered. 'Stand up, bitch, and draw up your skirt to show these ladies how well you're strapped and corseted!'
In front of the laughing women the girl had to stand and lift up her skirt shoulder high. Her thin waist appeared, terribly squeezed in a black leather corset, and her big rumps sheathed narrowly in pink silk panties, with a pretty varnished leather strap between her thighs.
'I would like to see her bottom naked,' little Molly asked.
'She will certainly show it to us in a while, when she's deserved a whipping,' Bridget said. 'For the moment, she's going to serve tea.'
Three of the women sat down on the sofa and the other two on armchairs. The slave bad to wait upon them on her knees, stimulated by the slaps on the face which showered upon her from all quarters. After tea, the women smoked cigarettes and Mabel stretched down on the carpet to be a carpet to them. Ten feminine feet trod her body and face, bruising them atrociously, the girls talked and laughed, with vulgarity. Without giving a thought to the slave's sufferings, which horrified their unfortunate victim.
'She can also be used as a seat,' Bridget said after a while. 'Come on, bitch, lie down on your stomach on the sofa!'
Mabel having obeyed, the maid invited her friends to sit on the slave. Molly sat on the legs, Gladys on the stomach, Roberta on the breasts and May on the face.
Horribly stifling and bruised, overwhelmed by that quadruple weight, Mabel thought her last hour had come.
