‘Prisoner thirty nine, you have accepted a place on the government’s new Short, Sharp Shock disciplinary programme in preference to a longer custodial sentence in an ordinary prison. Could you please confirm for me that this is the case?’
‘Er, yes, it is,’ she mumbled, startled by how convincingly Richard adopted this pitiless, judicial tone.
‘Good. You will be with us for a weekend, and I think you must realise that it isn’t going to be a luxury mini-break. Hmm?’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘Yes, yes, I realise that,’ said Emma.
‘When you speak to me, or any other member of staff, you will be respectful and call us ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ at all times. If you forget, you’ll incur punishment, is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now then, first things first. Blake, get the uniform out of the boot. Prisoner, remove your clothes.’
‘What? Here?’ She looked around wildly. Nobody was around, or likely to be, it was true, but – ‘What if a train comes past?’
‘What if it does?’ said Richard laconically, while Blake snorted over by the car. ‘You’ve broken two rules already, my girl. Failure to use the correct honorific, and failing to obey a direct order in a timely fashion. If I were you, I’d start making up for that right now.’
I can say ‘Colditz’ and all this will be over. I can go back to the station and … No.
Emma looked up at the night sky, clouded and vast. A dream was coming true. She bit back a smile and took off her jacket.
She bent her head, avoiding the eyes of Richard and Blake, who watched her every move with grim satisfaction.
Off came the jumper, off came the jeans, the denim rucking around her pale legs. She looked back at the railway line as she stepped out of them.
Nobody was there.
The night air played, lewd and cold, about her bare skin and she shivered and hugged herself.
‘Underwear too,’ clarified Richard.
She gasped and gave him a quick pleading glance, which he rebuffed, folding his arms.
She unhooked her bra and put it on the ground with the rest of her clothes. The cold made her nipples stiffen with a pang until they felt unbearably tight.
‘Underwear is a privilege,’ said Richard as she peeled down her knickers. ‘You haven’t earned it.’
Now that she was fully naked, Blake stepped forward with some white material over his arm.
‘You’d better put it on her,’ advised Richard.
The low rumble of an approaching train made Emma jump in alarm and hold out her arms to Blake.
He put the thing on her. It was a kind of shift made of a heavy canvas-like material that felt coarse and aggravated her nipples. It fastened all the way down the back with large hooks and eyes, leaving a long split of bare flesh in the middle where the metal clasps met. The area around her bottom was cut away, rendering it permanently bare.
Blake was clipping the hooks and eyes together when the train thundered past. The way they were standing meant that nobody could have seen anything but a woman in an odd white dress, but Emma still wailed and tried to cover her bottom with her hands.
Blake pushed them roughly away and slapped her bottom hard.
‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s forbidden for you to cover it.’
‘That’s right,’ said Richard. ‘While you’re with us, your bottom will be bare at all times. In fact, it’ll be a number of other things too, including red and sore, but bare in the basic necessity. Now, we have those two rule breaches to deal with. Bend over the bonnet of the car, pl
ease.’
The temptation to plead was almost overwhelming, but Emma knew that it would only end up the worse for her, so she trotted obediently to the vehicle and bent, palms down, over the sleek, silvery surface.
‘Two lessons,’ said Richard, stepping up behind her. ‘Respect and unquestioning obedience. Learn them well.’