A Girl Called 51 Page 2

  36 screamed in pain. ‘One…’ she managed when her sobs had subsided sufficiently.

  The cruel man worked at his own pace, only pausing to let 36 recover sufficiently to issue the count. It was so regular that Erica found herself tensing in anticipation and sobbing with the girl as each blow landed. It was impossibly inhumane and Erica could not understand how or why the girl could put up with it.

  After the sob-wracked girl announced ‘six’ Erica could hold back no more. He’d made his point. It was time to stop.

  ‘If you’re trying to impress me you failed,’ Erica said to him, and that made him stop. Walking round to the side of the bed again, that evil whip dangling from his grip, his dark eyes looked down on her from the holes in the mask. She was afraid; worried in case he used the whip on her.

  ‘That was a foolish comment, 51,’ he growled. He still watched her as he spoke over his shoulder to the sobbing girl. ‘What will it mean, 36? Speak.’

  ‘Six more, Master,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Louder.’

  ‘Six more, Master.’

  ‘That’s right. I thought this would have taught you a little, 51, but you seem particularly stubborn. You have to realise that in this house you only speak when permitted to do so, or when a Master asks you a question and that any infractions, disobedience or rebellion will be severely punished. Your will has no place here and it will be broken. So your little outburst has earned 36 six more.’

  ‘No, please, I’m sorry,’ she pleaded.

  ‘Unless you want to take her place?’ he offered, cocking his head to one side as he stared down at her.

  Erica looked beyond him to the sobbing girl, who slowly, unseen, shook her head. Erica stayed silent.

  ‘I didn’t think so,’ he said at last, turning and resuming his position.

  By the time 36 had uttered ‘twelve’ she was openly crying. The man walked to Erica again. ‘Come here, 36,’ he said.

  As the girl arrived at his side he instructed her to turn. Erica’s gaze fell on angry red lines cut into the girl’s back and buttocks.

  ‘This is what disobedience brings, 51,’ the man continued in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘The choice is yours. Obey and all will be well. Disobey and…’ He left the sentence hanging in the air for a few moments before adding, ‘We don’t mind either way. We enjoy obedience, but we enjoy punishing too. So it’s your choice. Have you anything to say, 36? Speak.’

  ‘Thank you, Master,’ she said immediately.

  ‘For what, 36?’

  ‘For whipping me, Master.’

  ‘Good. Now, you may untie 51 and assist with her shower. For the purpose of instruction the pair of you may talk. It can be anything you want apart from personal details. Remember, we’ll be listening. Any names, any background information, anything that could identify either of you will make the punishment you’ve just witnessed seem tame by comparison. If you want to talk about escaping, go ahead. That always amuses us.’ He smiled at her before calling, ‘Open the door.’

  As the heavy portal swung silently open he turned and strode out. The girl made no attempt to escape through it; she just waited until it had closed again before breaking down into uncontrollable sobs.

  ‘Can you untie me?’ Erica asked her gently. ‘Come on, please. I can help you.’

  The girl sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes with her hands, then moved to Erica to unfasten the chains from the leather wrist cuffs. When they were free she sat up to unfasten her own ankles, then pulled the girl towards her, letting her cry out her pain and misery into her shoulder, feeling the tears run down her skin. She had so many questions, but had to let the girl recover herself first. She made ‘shhh’ noises and told her everything would be okay. It was a ridiculous thing to say, since it was clear that all would not be okay, but gradually the girl’s heaving sobs subsided and she was able to talk again.

  ‘All right?’ Erica asked.

  The girl nodded.

  ‘Who was he?’

  ‘One of the Masters,’ 36 told her.

  ‘One of…? You mean there’s more like him?’

  ‘Oh yes, lots.’

  ‘Are they all as cruel?’

  ‘Some aren’t. But some are worse.’

  ‘Is that possible?’

  ‘Oh yes, believe me, it’s possible.’

  Erica sensed laughter behind the camera’s lens.

  The girl faced her, speaking seriously. ‘Please make sure you don’t mention any names or where you lived or anything like that. It’s forbidden and I can’t take another whipping like that.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Erica assured her. ‘Can you tell me how long I’ll be kept here?’

  ‘I don’t know. Till they decide they’ve finished with you, I guess.’

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘I’m not sure. We never see any newspapers or television or anything. You lose track of time.’

  ‘Roughly,’ Erica pressed.

  ‘About two years, I suppose.’

  Erica was flabbergasted. ‘Two years? How can anybody keep someone hostage for two years? Surely people were looking for you?’

  ‘Don’t talk about that. We could slip up and mention our pasts.’

  ‘What do they want? A ransom?’

  ‘Oh no. There’s no ransom. We’re not hostages like that. We’re here for their use.’

  ‘Their use?’ Erica felt uneasy.

  ‘Yes, they all—’

  A voice from the loudspeaker cut her off. ‘That will be explained to her later,’ it said. ‘Change the subject.’

  ‘What about our families?’ Erica glanced nervously at the camera before adding, ‘I mean, they’ll have the police looking for us.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I read a book once, The Story of O. Have you read it?’

  ‘Yes,’ the girl replied. ‘But she went to the chateau because she loved her man. We’re here because they keep us here.’

  ‘You’re talking white slavery!’

  ‘Call it what you like.’

  ‘I can’t believe this,’ Erica said, shaking her head. ‘I’ll wake up soon, surely I will.’

  ‘Just do what they say and you’ll be okay,’ the girl advised. ‘It’s pointless fighting them.’

  ‘Just give in? Like that? That’s like giving up on life.’

  ‘Yes,’ the girl said blandly.

  ‘What about clothes and food and so on?’ Erica asked, conscious of her nakedness and hunger.

  ‘All provided for us. Most of the time it’s stuff like this, but sometimes there are more elaborate costumes. Sometimes they want us in uniforms.’

  ‘What kind of uniforms?’

  ‘The usual stuff. Nurses, harem girls, policewomen, teachers…’

  ‘So we’re like prostitutes?’ Erica felt her anger rise.

  ‘No, they get paid and get to go home after work.’

  ‘What about a bathroom and the toilet?’

  ‘Through there.’ The girl waved an arm in the direction of the second door. ‘All our rooms have one.’

  ‘We get our own rooms?’

  ‘Yes, this is yours. When they let you out you’ll see your name on the door.’

  ‘My name, or my number?’

  ‘They’re the same thing now.’

  ‘Just how big is this place?’

  ‘Massive. All of us have individual rooms, and then there are rooms for the Masters to stay in – much bigger than these, with double baths and jacuzzis and so on. There’s the club and the restaurant and the gym and—’

  ‘Do you know where it is?’ Erica wanted to know.

  ‘No, and they’re very careful to make sure we don’t find out.’

 
‘Has anyone ever escaped?’

  ‘They tell us nobody has,’ 36 told her, an edge of doubt in her voice.

  ‘If that’s the case there should be 51 girls here.’

  ‘No, some have been sold.’

  Erica did a double take. ‘Sold?’

  ‘Yes, wealthy men can make offers to buy us.’

  ‘This can’t be happening,’ she said incredulously, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Tell me this can’t be happening.’

  ‘But it is. There’s nothing—’

  The speaker boomed out again. ‘Enough! Silence now.’ The girl Erica only knew as 36 glanced up at the camera and stopped talking.

  ‘I need the toilet,’ Erica whispered.

  ‘51,’ the speaker said sternly, ‘since you are new we’ll make allowances, but not for very much longer. Silence means silence. You’ve already witnessed the penalty for disobedience.’

  36 put her finger to Erica’s lips, stopping any protest. She stood, beckoning with her hand to the second door. She pressed a small pushbutton that was set in the wall by its side, causing the door to swing open with the same mechanical precision as the main door. Inside, under the glare of bright white lighting, was a sumptuous bathroom, fitted in white and including a large bath, toilet, bidet, washbasin and separate shower cubicle. 36 beckoned her through.

  ‘36, return to your quarters,’ the speaker instructed. ‘51, enter the bathroom.’

  Erica watched as the girl moved to the bedroom door and waited for it to open. Nothing happened.

  ‘51, enter the bathroom,’ the voice repeated. ‘Enter the bathroom now!’

  Erica sighed. There was no point in being too defiant yet. Her time would come. She took two steps forward into the bathroom. A few moments later she heard a click behind her. When she turned the door had shut, and there was no handle to open it again.

  ‘How do I get out?’ she called to the voice she was sure would be listening.

  ‘No questions.’

  She sighed heavily and lifted the toilet lid, watching herself in the mirror as she sat. She looked a mess, her hair limp and ragged, her makeup streaked. On the shelf under the mirror was a large array of cosmetics, a hairdryer, an electric toothbrush… everything she could need. Several brands were ones she used. Over the bath and in the shower cubicle stood a few bottles of shampoo, conditioner, bath oils and body gels. As her eyes continued to wander she glanced up, and another camera lens looked coldly down on her.

  ‘God, isn’t there any privacy here?’ she demanded.

  ‘You were warned, 51. Now you have earned a punishment.’

  ‘Fuck you,’ she muttered back.

  She decided to take a shower. After all, there was nothing else to do. She tugged at the leather cuffs and their locks, but since they would not move she carried on into the shower wearing them. The water was warm and luxurious and after she’d washed her hair and cleaned off the remains of her makeup she started to feel human again. Two enormous fluffy bath towels completed the job, one to dry her and the other to wrap round her body while she sat to dry her hair. The temperature in the room was just right, but she decided to wear the towel to annoy the eyes behind the camera.

  When she was dry she stood and faced the door. It opened inward, so there was no point in pushing and there was nothing to get a grip on to pull. She stared up at the camera impatiently. She wanted to give them a mouthful of abuse again, but with the memories of the other girl’s whipping fresh in her mind she decided not to push too hard.

  So she waited. And waited. And when nothing happened she sat on the toilet again.

  ‘Take off the towel,’ a woman’s voice said eventually.

  Erica did not move. She did not even look up at the camera, deciding instead to remove an imaginary piece of something from the corner of her eye.

  ‘We can wait longer than you can,’ said the voice.

  Erica sighed heavily. She was not going to win this particular fight, so she stood and dropped the towel on the floor in an untidy heap. Immediately the door clicked and swung open, and when she moved back in her room she was surprised to see two people there. One was the girl known as 36, who sat on the furthest away of the three matching chairs that surrounded the small table to one side of the room. She did not look up as Erica walked in. The other occupant was a stern-looking heavyset man dressed in light slacks, a sweatshirt and the inevitable black mask, which did nothing to conceal the fact he’d lost most of his hair.

  As Erica entered he beckoned her over to sit at the table opposite 36. The table in front of them was set for two, with bread rolls, a tureen of soup, cold meats and salad. A bottle of white wine rested in a pedestal-mounted ice bucket to the table’s left.

  ‘Eat,’ the man’s gruff voice told her. ‘You may talk. Same rules, no personal details.’

  This time the girls had no chance to do anything other than eat and make idle conversation while the man stood nearby to watch. Despite his presence the two girls talked about things that interested them, punctuated only by an occasional nervous glance at the man to make sure they weren’t straying into forbidden topics. Erica told 36 that she liked to dance and was keen on tennis and badminton. 36 said she too liked badminton and perhaps they could play a match in the gym when she was settled in. Erica also learned the other girl was learning to speak French in the language room, responding to Erica’s questions by telling her that they were encouraged to develop languages and social skills, and that all facilities were available within The Complex.

  By the end of the meal, lubricated by the wine, both girls were starting to get along well, chatting freely and even sharing a few jokes while the stern man stood expressionless, his arms folded across his chest. They finished eating and took their time sipping the last of the wine.

  Suddenly the man interrupted. ‘Silence now. 51,’ he barked.

  ‘Me?’ Erica said.

  ‘Stand,’ he said. ‘Move over to the end of the bed. 36, follow her.’

  Erica started to feel uneasy as he grasped her hand and roughly pulled her until she faced the bed. She struggled, expecting the worst.

  ‘36, hold her other arm,’ he growled.

  Despite the fact the two females had been so friendly moments before, 36 did as she was told immediately, holding Erica’s left wrist with both her hands, giving the man the freedom to fix one of the chains to the wrist cuff, pulling it tight enough that her knees touched the bed as she stood. Moving behind her he secured her right arm into position at the other side of the bed. Taking new chains from the drawer unit he knelt down by her right foot, which she tried to keep from his grasp, but he was far too strong. Fitting the chain to the clip on the cuff, he pulled until she had to move it towards the leg of the bed. Finally he treated the left ankle in a similar way, leaving Erica standing, legs parted, helpless.

  ‘Please, no,’ she begged the man.

  ‘You were told to be silent, 51. You were told that defiance would be punished. Normally when you are whipped you’ll be gagged, but today I want to hear you scream.’

  Erica looked anxiously over her shoulder as he selected a whip from the drawer. It could have been the same one that had been used on the other girl; she had no idea.

  ‘Do you like 36?’ he asked her. ‘Speak.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘36, do you like 51?’

  ‘Yes, Master.’

  He offered the handle of the whip to the other girl. ‘Whip her then. Hard.’

  ‘Yes, Master.’

  ‘I’ll tell you when to stop. If I consider it’s not hard enough I will take over and when I’ve finished, you will take her place. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, Master.’

  Erica turned to look at her new friend, who carefully avoided eye contact as she raised the whip, her wrist chains jangli
ng as she brought it swiftly down.

  The first cut was the worst pain Erica had ever experienced. She screamed out, begging for it to stop. 36 took no notice, raising the whip again and crashing its tail across Erica’s rump. After four strokes Erica was sobbing, but nothing changed. No mercy was shown.

  After two more she sagged forward onto the bed, but the target was still there and 36 still whipped it. Tears flowed down Erica’s cheeks, dripping onto the bed-sheets below.

  ‘Cease,’ she heard the man say at last.

  But it was only a temporary halt. Erica heard the drawer open again and a few moments later he was kneeling on the bed, attaching ropes to the rings in her collar. Pulling tight he attached one, then the other to something under the sides of the bed so her face was trapped, forced down against the mattress.

  ‘Continue,’ he told 36.

  Almost immediately the whip cut across her again, hitting the upper parts of the backs of her thighs as she screamed into the bed. After two more strokes he called for a halt again, moving so she could see his eyes as he bent to talk.

  ‘Do you still like 36?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. She’s not doing this. You are.’

  ‘Still defiant, are we?’ He smiled. ‘It’s going to be fun breaking you.’

  ‘No, please, I wasn’t being defiant—’

  ‘Silence!’ He paused for a few moments. ‘Make no mistake, 51, it is 36 whipping you. I admit she’s following orders, as you will before you know it. But there is a difference, and I’ll prove it to you.’

  Then he was gone. A few seconds later the whip lashed out again, snaking up the length of her back, a worse bite than any before. His face appeared in her blurred vision once more.

  ‘Can you tell the difference?’ He grinned. Erica nodded. ‘Would you like to get your own back?’ he asked. ‘Would you like to whip 36?’

  Erica shook her head. She could not do that. She just could not.

  ‘Another day, then,’ he mused. ‘We’ll save it for another day. But you will do it.’ He rose and faced the other girl. ‘36, come here. Unzip me.’

  He moved close to Erica’s face, filling her vision with his torso as the other girl’s hand opened his zip and withdrew a massive erection.