Pam-Ann (2 page)

He spun her with one hand and
smacked her bottom with the other.

“Ow! What the hell are you
doing?” Pam demanded, indignation momentarily overcoming anxiety.
“That’s sexual harassment
and
assault. I could have you on
charges.”

Todd’s steel grip closed on her
arm again. “It’s no use behaving like a Freewoman now,” he said,
dragging her after him along the corridor. “Those days are over for
you. You made your choice when you stowed away. There’s no going
back.”

“A stowaway? God, you think….
No, that’s not how it is at all! I was on a plane and….”

He pushed her against the cold
wall hard enough to flatten her breasts and smacked her three times
where the tight material of her skirt clung to her buttocks.

“Ow, that hurts!” Pam yelped.
“Will you quit hitting me! I’ll be making a formal complaint about
you for this. You have no right to treat me this way.”

“Oh, I’ve got the right,” he
assured her, pulling her along again. “What are you complaining
about? It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” He opened the door,
revealing another bare corridor along which he led her until they
reached two steep stairways, one leading up and the other down. Her
brain a fog of confusion and bewilderment, Pam did not resist his
tug on her arm and began descending the stairs. In three steps she
discovered her high heels were not made for its narrow treads. She
slipped and began to topple. Todd’s long, powerful arm clamped
around her waist and pulling her tightly against him, he carried
her easily to the bottom. Sudden warmth spread over her skin where
their bodies touched. She pushed hard until he let her go and took
her arm once more, a puzzled expression on his face.

Pam took her shoes off before
going down more stairs that brought them to another door. As the
man unlatched it, the throbbing hum she had been hearing since her
frightening and inexplicable arrival grew louder and the vibration
she had felt was much more noticeable. Todd opened the door and a
wave of heat washed over her, as if she had stepped off an airliner
at some tropical destination.

She stopped dead in the doorway.
A short passage led to another staircase. At its foot was a scene
from hell.

The room looked huge. The noise
filling it was tremendous, no longer a muted hum but a rolling,
rumbling roar, punctuated by clanking and hissing and thumping
sounds like nothing Pam had heard before. In its centre was a
massive, dome-shaped structure from which pipes of all sizes seemed
to sprout randomly and make their way via floor and ceiling to
another slightly smaller dome next to it and another, smaller
again, next to that. Ranged alongside them was a row of six immense
pistons from which steam spurted with every rapid, regular stroke
they gave and swirled in clouds beneath the light of dozens of dim
electric bulbs. Men stripped to the waist moved amongst them,
checking and adjusting and lubricating the machinery. Beside the
biggest dome were several figures, half in shadow and
half-illuminated by a bright orange glow that came and went with no
pattern or purpose that Pam could make out.

Todd opened a door on the right,
pulled her in after him and closed it, shutting out much of the din
assaulting Pam’s already befuddled senses. A man sitting behind a
desk and poking a penknife into the bowl of a pipe rose to his
feet.

“Everything okay, Chief?” Todd
asked him.

“Fine, Lieutenant. I’ve checked
things out.” He pointed a thumb at the big glass window that looked
out into the hellish room. “There seemed to be a bit more vibration
than usual a few minutes ago but everything’s normal now.”

“Yes, she felt really sluggish
for a while but it didn’t last. We’ve cleared the crosswinds and
we’re back on course, but we’re miles south of where we should be.
The Commodore sent me to make sure everything’s running
smoothly.”

“He already talked to me on the
speaking tube. There wasn’t any need to send you too.”

Todd, or Drake as he was
obviously known to the man, shrugged. “You know the Old Man. He
always likes to double check. And it’s never a bad idea to take
extra care.”

“Guess not.” The Chief looked at
Pam. “Another one already? Hell, that’s one coming and now one
going back. We’re making it too easy for them.”

“I don’t suppose the Company
agrees. That’s why they keep security so lax. It’s cheaper than
buying them, I guess.” He pulled Pam closer to the desk and she
stared daggers at the man behind it as his gaze appraised her from
head to foot. It came to rest on the swells of her breasts outlined
by her tight uniform jacket.

“Pam-Ann?” he said, mistaking
the purpose of the winged badge on her lapel as well as misreading
it. “I knew a Sue-Ann once but I never heard that one before. You
sure caught a beauty this time, Rafael.”

“Yeah, but she seems to be
having second thoughts. She’s done nothing but lie to me and
complain since I found her.” Drake laughed. “When I smacked her ass
she said she’s going to report me.”

The Chief grinned at Pam. “Too
bad. You sure pissed on your plate of beans, missy. Should have
been dead sure before you decided you were one of That Kind. We’re
eight hours out now. You’re in all the way and there’s no going
back.”

“I have no idea what you’re
talking about,” Pam said, his words only adding to her
bewilderment. “I… I don’t know how I got here. I certainly didn’t
stow away.”

“Then you’ll have a ticket.”

“She doesn’t.” Drake waved the
paper he had found in the bag. “But she had the sense to bring her
passport. She’s Ann Estemay, though for some reason she says she
isn’t. I thought I’d let her sample your hospitality and see what
her griping has got her.”

“Give her something else to
gripe about, more like.” The Chief grinned at her again and waved
his pipe. “Get your clothes off then, Ann. Let’s have a look at you
before you join my girls. And you better have a good strong back
’cause you’re gonna need it.”

“Wha… what did you say?”

“He said strip,” the brute who
called himself Drake said. “I already reminded you once you aren’t
a Freewoman any more. Do you think you’re allowed to go around
wearing clothes?”

Pam made a grab for the door
handle but Drake’s hand against the door stopped her opening
it.

“Looks like she’ll need help,
Chief.”

She dropped her shoes when his
iron grip on the back of her neck forced her forwards until her
right cheek was hard against the desktop, from where she caught a
sideways glimpse of the Chief moving around behind her.

“No, you can’t,” Pam cried.
“You’ve no right to be mauling me. Let me go, damn you!” She felt
the hem of her jacket lifted and hands loosening the button at the
back of her skirt’s waistband. “I said no,” she almost screamed.
“
Oh, God, let me go
!” When her attempt to
prise the hand from her neck failed she tried levering herself up
from the desk but it proved equally futile. She flailed her arms
uselessly as the Chief fumbled with her skirt. It was too tight for
her to kick out effectively.

“What the hell’s this?” He
yanked at the skirt’s waist. “Well, I never saw anything fasten
like that before.” His distraction was brief. He dragged Pam’s
skirt down over her hips and let it fall. She lashed out a foot but
it tangled in the material pooled around her ankles. “What the…? I
never saw that before either.”

Pam wriggled frantically as his
fingers hooked in the waistband of her pantyhose and pulled them
down to join her skirt, leaving nothing but her skimpy pale-blue
panties to cover her most intimate place. Her protests grew louder
and more frantic and terror gripped her as powerfully as the hand
at her neck. They were going to…. No, she would not even think the
word! But it did not make the fear twisting her gut any easier to
bear. Her head spun and only her long habit of control helped her
stave off her rising panic.

“Loan me your rod, Chief,” Drake
said and Pam felt a sudden jerk at her hips followed by the sound
of elastic snapping and cotton tearing as he ripped off her briefs.
Her vision misty with unshed tears, she only half-saw the Chief
reach across his desk, and what he picked up was only a blur. A
second later a fiery streak of pain scorched the soft skin of her
buttocks.

“Oow! Agh! Oh, God, you hit me!
How dare you? I’ll….”

Drake dealt her another swift,
stinging stroke, jerked her upright and turned her to face him.
“I’ve had enough of you.” His dark-brown eyes stared deep into
Pam’s blue ones. “That’s two strokes. I don’t suppose a spoiled
brat like you has felt the rod before. Well, I’ll strap you down
properly and give you a dozen more if you don’t start behaving
yourself. Unless that’s what you’re angling for. Is that it? Can’t
you wait? Are you trying to get me to thrash you?”

Pam gave an emphatic shake of
her head.

“Okay, then get the rest of your
clothes off. I’ve more important duties than dealing with
stowaways.” He let her go and Pam backed quickly away, only to take
a hasty step forward as the smarting tracks across her bottom met
the wall. Drake raised the long stick, as thick as her forefinger,
and pressed it against the bare, soft skin on the fronts of her
thighs. She saw his jaw lift along with an impatient eyebrow,
sucked in a deep breath and began unbuttoning her jacket.
Frightened and horribly embarrassed, she let it and her white
blouse join her pantyhose on the floor. The Chief had her skirt and
was toying with its
zipper.

“Hey, that’s real clever! The
teeth mesh into each other when you pull it up and separate again
when you pull it down. Must be a one off. I never saw anything like
it.” His enquiring look at Pam changed to blatant appraisal as he
saw her standing in nothing but her bra. In the act of unfastening
it she stopped and dropped both hands to cover the trimmed,
light-brown triangle of her pubic hair, as the heat of
embarrassment on her cheeks flamed higher.

“No one told you to stop,” Drake
said, and tapped the stick on her thighs hard enough to sting.

“You son of a….” She cut herself
short as he raised the rod. “Oh, don’t!” Pam freed the last hook on
the bra. With a gulp she slid the garment free of her breasts.
Afraid he would hit her again if she tried to hide her nakedness
she forced her hands to her sides, fingers clenched tight.

“Stand straight,” Drake said,
and she squared her shoulders and cringed inwardly as the posture
thrust her breasts out. She flickered a glance at each man and then
stared fixedly at the floor as her heart pounded, and she waited in
dread for their assaults to begin.

“Nice tits,” the Chief observed.
“I like them bigger but her nipples are cute. She’s got a fine set
of muscles too by the look of things. Not overdeveloped but enough
to give her a helluva figure. Turn around, Ann, let’s see your
ass.”

Bitterly humiliated, Pam turned.
Her bottom buzzed painfully from the rod’s impacts. She had no wish
to provoke any more.

The Chief chuckled throatily.
“Now that’s an ass, Rafael. Firm as a Georgia peach and just as
juicy, I’ll bet. What do you say?”

“I expect it’ll be popular with
the passengers once we introduce her. But she had better have
learned to do as she’s told by then.” He tapped the rod on Pam’s
smarting bottom. “Turn around. What do you say? Are you going to
behave yourself?”

Angry at the way they were
discussing her, but still horribly afraid, she faced them, fought
the need to cover herself with her arms and, unable to hide her
resentment, answered with a surly ‘Yes’.

“Say ‘Sir’,” Drake said. “Put
your hands on your head.”

Pam saw his gaze drop to her
breasts as the movement lifted the two firm mounds and made their
rosy points tilt further upwards. He slid the rod over her skin
from her belly to indent the round underside of her left tit.

“Well?”

Her head was still spinning and
her heart thumping madly. Pam took several seconds to understand.
“Yes, Sir,” she said at last, hating him for forcing the respectful
word from her when all she felt was contempt. Yet she feared
him.

“She seems unusual for one of
That Kind,” the Chief said. “More often than not they’re panting
hot and begging for it by now. You don’t think she’s crazy, do
you?”

Pam stared at him as another of
her fears resurfaced. Was he right? What other explanation was
there? It had to be a hallucination. She had been on an airplane
above the Atlantic. She had to be there still. Then she remembered
the blackness.

“Not crazy. Just regretting her
impulsiveness, I’d say,” Drake replied.

“Oh, please!” Pam blurted.
“Please, if only you’d listen for a minute I can explain.”

The pressure of the rod against
her breast increased, lifting it higher.

“You’ve done enough explaining,”
Drake said. “You can start doing some obeying instead. I’ll leave
her to you, Alex. I’ll come back in an hour.”

The Chief grinned. “Think she’ll
last that long? Half of them are crying and begging to go home in
the first ten minutes.” He gave Pam a crooked smile. “But she’s a
strong one, I think. She might see it through.”

It dawned on Pam they were not
going to sexually assault her, but she had heard enough to fear
whatever it was they intended almost as much. She felt no relief
when Drake laid the rod on the desk and opened the door.

“Come on then, Ann,” the Chief
said, taking her arm in a grip as tight as Drake’s. “I’ll introduce
you to my Zulu girls. They’re the finest in the
Empire Star
Line
. In fact, I’d lay money they’re the finest in the
world.”

The din of massive machinery
assailed Pam again as he led her down the steps to the enormous
room with its dim lights and swirling clouds of steam. It hammered
her brain as well as her eardrums, denying her any chance of
coherent thought. Once again only her practised self-control kept
her fear and confusion at bay and stopped her collapsing into a
gibbering wreck. She looked back on impulse. Drake stood watching
her from the head of the steps. He met her eye, and her awareness
of her nudity intensified. Horribly, humiliatingly vulnerable and
utterly helpless, she looked away and tried to steel herself for
whatever awaited her.