Ausitania :

"So what brings you to Libovice Mr.Morgan?" The question was almost rhetorical. The policewoman knew only too well what brought male tourists to Libovice. Cheap alcohol, available young women, or both. Chief Inspector Arianne Voric had already been through the contents of his wallet before handing it back to him with the comment that his passport was being held whilst further enquiries were made. He looked into her grey green eyes. She was a slim, attractive redhead dressed in a uniform of black leather, like something out of his wildest fantasy. She was older than him, probably mid forties. If this was the Ausitania of Donald Harrington's tabloid nightmares he had to admit, he was all for it.

He had decided that his best option was to maintain the fiction that he was merely a tourist. Before he was able to blurt out this lie however Arianne had fixed him with a steely stare that said she was not going to be that gullible. He looked deep into her eyes once more, about to compound the lie.

"I do assure you Mr. Morgan that should you attempt to mislead me the consequences for you will not be good...and not necessarily limited to an immediate deportation."

Alex felt a distinct twitching between his legs as her remarks hit home. He had visited quite a few professional dominatrix, but this woman was the real deal. He pondered on what might happen if he flirted with her consequences.

"Look I am just a British journalist looking for a story about people having a good time." Her expression told him that she wasn't going to swallow this line. She walked back and forth across the office, each step underlined by the click of a stiletto boot heel on the hardwood floor. Turning towards him she played the killer line.

"And exactly how does that fit in with photographing police officers going about their legal duties? Come now Mr.Morgan you have already committed an offence that will bring you a fourteen day custodial sentence, why do you wish to make your situation worse?"

A male orderly brought in a tray of coffee. "Do you take sugar Mr. Morgan. I suppose black would help you to sober up."

Thrown by this sudden change in tactics Alex agreed. "Yes, black will be fine."

As he sipped at the hot, dark liquid Arianne Voric put her theory to him.

"I did a quick bit of research on your newspaper. Judging from their previous coverage it seems that they don't very much like the recent turn of events in Ausitania. So I think it highly unlikely that you were intending to write an article extolling the virtues of our society."

Alex, seeing the lie of the land decided that his best bet would be to come clean. It seemed as if they already knew sufficient to convict him.

"Alright I admit that my original idea was to write an expose. But my own view is that you have something good going on here. I am actually in complete agreement with the controls that your government is putting on male power."

Arianne smiled. She had developed a natural radar for this over the years. Now she was pretty certain that she had sitting before her a true male submissive and she saw a way to turn their situation to mutual advantage.

"I think that now I believe you." she said quietly.

The deal was soon cut. In exchange for dropping all charges Alex agreed to serve Arianne as an unpaid houseboy for the fourteen days that would have been his sentence. She laid out the terms of his service clearly.

"You will work in a domestic capacity carrying out whatever tasks I choose for you. Any failure to adhere to the standards I require will result in you being punished by me in whatever way I see fit. No sexual gratification of any kind is permitted to males in custody and you will wear a standard issue male chastity lock for your period of service. Is that agreed?"

Alex nodded his assent. " I will of course retain your passport for the duration of your stay. It will be returned to you on the eighteenth, then you may return to England. Oh, and one other thing. During that time you will write an article for your newspaper stating that the abuses being alleged in Ausitania are pure fiction."

The ancient stone farmhouse that Arianne Voric resided in was in an idyllic setting. Looking across the river valley it was possible to make out the ripening vines in State Vineyard No.5. Alex Morgan's first day was occupied with tasks of a domestic nature. The weather was still warm and Alex worked completely naked, apart from the heavy leather collar and the stainless steel chastity lock that prevented anything other than a very small erection. After that it became so painful that, despite his sexual frustration, his cock retreated back into its little prison. He was down on his hands and knees polishing the kitchen floor when he first heard the low throb of the car's engine followed by the sound of it's door being closed.

The kitchen floor was the last on the long list of jobs and, as he looked at the pristine pale grey tiles he guessed that Arianne would find a reason to punish him in some way for a deficiency of some kind, real or imagined. His body tensed with a growing, tingling excitement as he heard her key turn in the lock followed by the staccato tapping of her heels on the hall floor. He assumed his position in the centre of the floor, the cold of the tiles fresh against his cheek. The steps came closer, approaching the kitchen. Now she stood in the doorway, her slim body framed against the late afternoon light slanting in from the front door. It was a stance he adored, her long legs elongated even more by the heels of her laced knee boots, black leather gleaming as she approached.

The look on her face could have been mistaken for a scowl. But it was more than that. Her grey green eyes sparkled with a divine mischief. Arianne slipped off her jacket, revealing the intense white of her blouse that contrasted starkly with the tight black leather that encased he body from the waist downwards. Finely tailored leather trousers made to measure that followed every curve of her finely muscles buttocks and thighs before disappearing beneath the laced boots. She walked slowly across the room, almost brushing his naked body as she did so. Picking up a tumbler she turned on the kitchen tap and filled it.

Before entering the house she had clearly walked through some mud., the line of dark smudges now extending diagonally across the kitchen floor that Alex had just finished buffing. She turned from the sink, retracing her steps, compounding the soiling of the floor with another set of dirty boot prints. Without speaking she extended a gloved index finger towards the muddy tracks, pointing accusingly at them.

"Clean them up boy!" Alex moved quickly to begin the task once more. As he cleaned each muddy smudge he moved closer to where Arianne stood sipping her water. The final one was just in front of her boot. As he cleaned it from the tile she moved her boot forward, swaying the elegant almond toed laced boot from side to side just below his face.

"Clean it!" He moved his cloth towards the boot. "Not like that, with your tongue."

He felt the coolness of the leather beneath his lips and the grittiness of the dirt on his tongue as he obediently followed her orders. She said softly "Good boy".

They sat for a while as Arianne explained that she had enjoyed a good day at work.

"Two of my officers brought a man they arrested last night down to the vineyard. He was made to watch a punishment whipping in the courtyard, which I carried out myself. It was most gratifying watching this reprobate dissolve as he came to realise what his behaviour had brought him to."

Arianne cast her mind back to that afternoon. Anton Janacek had watched the whipping of the prisoner just before he had been given the news that he was being taken back to Prochody to be interviewed about an historical rape accusation. He went berserk. Arianne had watched with deep satisfaction as the three woman restraint team went in. They were good. The special training in techniques of overpowering violent men meant that all their blows landed in exactly the right places, their heavy leather covered truncheons doing their work quickly and efficiently. Janacek, a thick set, heavily muscled man was dropped to his knees by the first strike. After that there was only one outcome. Whichever way he turned one of the women was presented with an easy target. The blows fell hard and fast across his neck and shoulders. The thuds of their impacts were covered by his cries of agony. His wrists were quickly locked behind his back in rigid restraint cuffs, the features of his florid face distorted as a laced combat boot drove it against the stone floor.

"Use a body cage." said Arianne. The cages, banned everywhere outside China where judicial torture techniques seemed to have been raised to an artform had recently been re-introduced by the Ausitanian authorities, a move which Arianne Voric had strongly supported. Without doubt it was a very cruel device but one whose use was entirely consistent with the firm line being taken against violent criminals. It looked like a large rectangular lobster pot made of heavy gauge galvanised steel wire. A man's body fitted inside one with his legs folded up behind him. It was especially good for dealing with volatile suspects. Steel handles at each end made it especially easy to transport. Two of his assailants forced him inside and locked down the latches.

Arianne signed the requisite paperwork before handing it to Veronika Novotny.

"I'm going home now." she addressed the two women as they headed for the prison van. "I had a new domestic servant starting today, I need to make sure that his work is up to standard."

Veronika and Liza chatted on the journey back to Prochody. "You know that she cherry picks the prisoners, helps herself to the best ones. Well I suppose it saves her the expense of employing domestics. "

Liza laughed. "Yes I had heard. I think she has something going with that British journalist who was arrested yesterday."

On arrival at Prochody jail they were greeted by a guard accompanied by two male orderlies who removed the body cage and carried it inside. They placed it on a wheeled trolley taking it past the holding cells and down to the newly fitted out subterranean interrogation centre, depositing it roughly on the floor. Liza and Veronika circled the cage, only the regular clicking of their boot heels on the granite breaking the silence. The truncheons had done their work brutally and efficiently, Janacek's back and shoulders deeply bruised from their repeated impact. Areas of dark blue bruising now beginning to discolour the flesh. Liza placed her boot heel against the cage and applied some pressure, carefully selecting the most heavily bruised part of his back for her attention. A groan came from Janacek as the tip of her boot dug into his flesh, the dungeon resounding to his anguished cry.

"I think that I am going to enjoy this."

Once they had him removed from the body cage Veronika fitted Janacek into a device known as "The Kneeler". Another product of the Chinese grey market that dealt in the widely banned torture equipment it consisted of a simple pair of stainless steel ankle fetters connected to a short length of steel chain. This was fitted to a circular clamp hinged in two parts. Once secured around the victim's testicles the key was removed locking it firmly in place around the wearer's scrotum. The length of chain was insufficient to permit the wearer to adopt any position other that kneeling or squatting. Within a very short space of time this applied terrible pressure to the calfs and thighs, leading to acute discomfort and often muscle cramps. Any movement on the part of the wearer tightened the steel chain and pulled his scrotum painfully away from the body.

Veronika and Liza thought that it might be a very good way to pass an enjoyable hour savouring the delicious agony of a prisoner locked into such a devilish device. Many a macho type had, after a brief spell in the kneeler, ended up sobbing at the booted feet of his captor as she informed him that she was about to take to her warm, comfortable bed whilst he looked forward only to a night of agonising torture squatting on the cold floor.

Janacek cursed as he was locked into the kneeler, his wrists cuffed behind his back. He was left marooned in the centre of the dungeon while the two women retired to the office for coffee.

Veronika explained "Leaving them like that serves to increase their isolation. It begins the spiral of despair. You see some respond better to pain, others to psychological torment. It's the combination of the two that cracks them. We will leave him there for an hour and then begin to work on him in earnest.

Meanwhile Arianne Voric was deep in conversation with Alex Morgan. She was surprised to discover just how much he knew about Ausitanian politics. When she mentioned Monika Novotny he looked surprised that Arianne actually knew the Olympic triathlon gold medallist, now the Minister of Justice.

"More than just know her, she is a good friend. I can arrange for you to meet her if you want. I am sure that she will be able to give you some good pointers for the piece that you write for your newspaper."

Alex felt a frisson of excitement run through him. Not only was he going to spend a full fortnight as a submissive to this stunningly attractive redhead but he was actually going to get a one on one interview with the woman who was currently one of the hottest properties on the world stage.

His situation certainly contrasted with that of Anton Janacek. His two captors, having finished their coffee, made their way back down to the dungeon. In his desperation to provide himself with some relief from the torment of the kneeler he had fallen over onto his side and now lay helpless on the stone floor. His tortured scrotum, held by the steel clamp was a mass of painful flesh discoloured by the restriction of the blood flow. His plight reminded Veronika of an insect caught in a trap and unable to escape.

She handed the steel key to Liza. "Release him from the kneeler. we will strap him down onto the bench ready to begin the interrogation process."

Once out of the kneeler Veronika took another key and unlocked the handcuffs. The freed prisoner now changed in an instant from being completely subdued to a raging bull of a man. He turn towards the two women, advancing menacingly towards them. It was Liza who got in the first blow. Once he came within range her arm came up with a startling ferocity, describing an arc through the air that landed a perfectly placed karate chop on the side of his neck. Following through with her left her fist hit him hard in the throat. As he went down her boot caught him square in the crotch. The big man slumped ignominiously to the floor where he lay groaning. The two women stood over his prostrate body, Liza, gloved hands on her hips like a big game hunter.

Alex Morgan by contrast could not have been more contented. Kneeling at the booted feet of Arianne Voric as she sat relaxing with a glass of chilled Ausitanian white wine he held one of her boots in both hands. He kissed the toes and took the long pointed heel into his mouth, replicating the sex act as Arianne watched his worship. He licked the soles of her boots clean. All this made Arianne feel quite horny and eventually she announced that she was going to take a shower and have an early night. If Alex harboured any hopes that he was to become more intimate with this beautiful woman they were soon dashed. She led him into her bedroom but once inside his spirits fell. Her bed was raised half a metre from the floor and the space beneath was a cramped prison cell, the bed itself supported by the steel bars that formed the place where he was to spend his night just centimetres from the gorgeous redheaded dominatrix. It was difficult to say whose torture was worse, his or Janacek's.

To be continued...