She became vaguely aware of lying on a bed, and movement. The movement, she began to realize, was due to her being in some sort of traveling mobile home, which was currently traveling. The vehicle hit a bump in the road, and she heard the muffled sound of a woman complaining. This was followed by some laughter, then the drone of the wheels on the road took over once again.
She glanced around the room; tiny. Almost claustrophobic in its compactness. In fact, the bed she was lying on appeared to take the bulk of the room. She could see that a blanket was thrown over her; moving her left hand carefully and lifting an edge, she saw that underneath she wore shorts and a T-shirt, socks. Nothing alarming.
And yet she was alarmed. She couldn't remember her name, and she was certain she had never seen this - this mobile home? - before. Closing her eyes, she tried to recall her name, facts, anything to identify herself, to introduce herself to the stranger that she was now. Nothing. She began to panic and sat up, hearing a slight clinking noise as she did. Throwing back the blanket revealed that the right foot had a leather cuff that was attached to the post of the bed. She struggled to undo it. It was locked. She sat, uncertain of what was going on, swaying slightly as the mobile home traveled on, taking her she did not know where, removing her from equal uncertainty.
More observation revealed sliding doors to the right of her, in the wall; presumably a closet. A tiny cabinet shoved against the wall; space enough to edge by to the bed or open a cabinet drawer just enough to get something out. That was all the room there was.
That, and her growing fear of why she was here, and who was she? began to cause her more panic, and she struggled, until finally she lay down again, feeling drowsy for some reason, and eventually slept.
* * * * *
"Did you check on the girl?" asked Anthony. He was driving the Winnebago, hunkered in the seat, one earphone on and tuned to country music, the other cocked upwards so he could hear what his woman was saying.
His woman was Asian, beautiful and elegant, wearing a slim red silk gown with a slit up one leg. She would have frowned if she had known he was thinking of her as "his woman." Behind her sat two blonde females, obviously twins, watching a small TV and doing their nails. Across from them sat two elderly Asian women, known as Mama San and Auntie K. No one knew what the K stood for. No one bothered to ask. They knew that Auntie K was Mama San's sister, and that Mama San was somehow related to the beautiful Asian woman, though whether mother or aunt, no one knew on that, either. But with Mama San, nobody felt comfortable asking questions, either. She was tiny and wrinkled and old and ferocious. Even Anthony felt nervous around her. There was a cruelty to the woman that made him mind his manners around her. As for Anthony, he sometimes wondered how a black man ended up with such an odd group, but as the only male, he was content to puff out his chest at times.
He was also a massive man, well-built, dedicated to the weights which were nestled solidly in the back in the room that he shared with Anna of the red silk gown.
Anthony was their bouncer, their protector, but Anna was the mistress, the leader, with Mama San and Auntie K as her reinforcements.
It was the girl in the little room that worried Anthony. Anna had returned to their camp two days ago, grim and silent, answering no questions. All she would say was that the girl could no longer speak, had lost her memory, and that no one was to question Anna's decision on what to do with her. It worried Anthony. He had a suspicion that Anna was anxious; he knew enough Japanese to understand that an overheard argument between Mama San and Anna meant that even Mama San was upset, and that scared Anthony. Anything that worried Mama San scared Anthony. He was basically a gentle man, adored women, and had his own fetishes and kinks that Anna satisfied. He was content to drive them about to their little private parties, a little on the outskirts of legal, but not really dangerous.
This, however, smacked of dangerous.
The girl had been asleep in the back seat of the Camry that was now being towed by the Winnebago. Anna had gotten Anthony to lift the girl and place her on the bed. Anthony thought the girl was drugged. She had slept for almost two days, only groggily moving about to go to the bathroom, and even seemed unaware of that. Mama San and Auntie K had had to help her.
The girl was pretty, Anthony thought. Young. Maybe early 20's. Red hair to the shoulders, green eyes, pale white skin without freckles. Peaches and cream, his mama used to call it.
Still, he was worried. He glanced in the mirror at Auntie K. She was snoring. Mama San jabbed her in the side. Auntie K snorted, moved, and went back to sleep. It was peaceful.
Except for the girl in the back.
* * * * *
In two days, the Winnebago was parked at a campground near Savannah, Georgia, close to a beach. The twins were attracting some attention with their blonde good looks and playful manner. Anthony was reading Zane Grey, sipping a beer, and sitting in the shade. Anthony fancied himself a cowboy, in his dreams. A western knight protecting the maidens of his ranch. He kept an eye on the twins, who went by the names of Bambi and Bunni. He wasn't sure what their real names were. It didn't matter. They were part of his family. It appeared that the girl was too, now.
The girl was being called Shawn. Whether that was her name or not, he didn't know. He didn't ask. This had been the first morning she had appeared to eat breakfast with them. She seemed confused and upset. He felt sorry for her. He had tried to give her another bowl of cereal, but Mama San had snapped at him not to waste food on somebody who wasn't earning their keep. Anthony's cowboy generosity told him to sneak the girl a little food later in the day.
Everyone had been sent outside to the beach, except for Anna, Mama San, and the girl. Auntie K had gone shopping. Anthony had just seen her drive up, bustling inside with two bags. He wondered what was going on.
* * * * *
It was just as well he wasn't inside to watch. His chivalrous instincts would have caught him Mama San's wrath. She was already angry with the girl, who was being stubborn.
Shawn, as she was being called, was fairly small. Petite, short, tiny waist, slender legs. Mama San was pleased. The girl was not. She made to stand nude before Anna and Mama San. Shawn did not like this. She was fairly certain this was not her habit to stand nude. She had grabbed for her clothes twice, until Mama San had gotten them and cut them up with a pair of scissors.
"You not wear clothes till I say!" snapped Mama San, shaking the scissors at Shawn. Anna watched, arms crossed. "We need to do something about the hair," she said.
Mama San nodded.
They had begun by cutting Shawn's hair until it was a chic bob, angling down towards her chin, with bangs. Next, they dyed her hair black. With the pale skin, she immediately took on a more Gothic look, which caused both Anna and Mama San to nod in satisfaction. Anna left the room and returned with a set of contacts, the type one could wear for days without removing. They were purple and caused no change to her vision, which was fine, but again the effects were immediate: a pale-skinned petite woman with black hair and violet eyes, bangs that now looked seductive as they swept across the tops of her eyes. They looked at the crotch, then at each other.
"Now we need to shave her," said Anna, just as they heard the car door close. Auntie K had arrived.
Auntie K's bags were tossed to one corner of the room. Shawn had not been pleased about having her hair dyed, but she shook her head "no" vigorously about having her crotch shaved. This almost seemed to please Mama San, who nodded at Auntie K.
Each took one of Shawn's arms; Anna pulled a small table out, propped up the leaves, placed a blanket on it. They forced the young woman onto the table on her back, Auntie K holding the slender wrists over the girl's head. Anna pulled out brackets, grasped one ankle, and pulled it out. She began lashing it to the bracket while Mama San tied the other leg. Shawn heaved, tugging at her wrists, lifting her hips and struggling to close her legs. She was shaking her head no from side to side. They ignored her. Mama San placed cuffs around the wrists and pulled them over the girl's head cruelly, back and then down, tying it to a rung under the table. She smiled at the girl coldly. "You not move now," she said, "or I cut pussy and you bleed bad."
Shawn shivered, jerking a little when she felt Mama San's wrinkled hand touch her clit. The old woman pinched it tightly, pulling it up. Shawn's head went back a little, and she lifted her hips. "She gonna make a nice slut before we done," said Mama San.
The two old women began shaving the girl's crotch, pulling at the lips, the clit, then working a wax onto the whole area to make certain it was smooth. They powdered it. It felt cool to the girl, but she trembled. She knew she had never shaved there before. And the hands touching her, and her legs tied open - she didn't like that she couldn't close her legs. She felt her inner thighs growing sore as she tried to clamp them shut, and the bonds held.
Anna sat to one side, doing her nails, while the women worked. Shawn's body was completely smooth of hair except for her brows and head before they were done. The touching had unnerved her. Mama San seemed to delight in this. At times she would pinch the girl and tell her to be still.
When they were done, Shawn thought they might let her go. But Auntie K got the bags and showed them to the other two women. Anna nodded. "You did well."
A leg was freed, but before she could kick, Auntie K held it firmly for one so old in appearance, while Mama San began to roll a length of hose up the girl's smooth leg. The leg was retied and the next leg clothed in hose. Thigh-high, white, silky, lacey edges. Shawn closed her eyes when she felt the old woman's hand smoothing up and down the length of the hose. "This nice, nice and slutty."
They brought out a pair of boots that came above Shawn's knees, and each in turn was placed on a leg so that the hose peeked over the top, lace above leather, innocence above sin. Now the arms were freed, yet held, and a short jacket placed on her, and then she was tied again. The jacket was leather, black, matching the boots. It smelled good yet frightened Shawn. It was left open, made to hang that way, coming just below the shoulder blades, barely covering her breasts. A collar placed around her neck with a D ring at the front; short black gloves made from black leather that was soft were placed on her hands. She clenched them into fists, trying the cuffs again.
Mama San was not pleased. She snapped her fingers at Auntie K, who scurried away and returned with a small cedar box. She opened it and held it out to Mama San.
"You try get away! You not stay still! You be punished," snapped Mama San fiercely. She showed Shawn a clover clamp, opening it and shutting it, smiling evilly the whole time. She threaded a chain through the girl's ring collar, hooked each end to a clamp. She pinched the girl's nipples with her fingernails, making Shawn arch her back in pain. "Good," said Mama San. The clamp was placed on the nipple with a snap. It was meant to hurt, and it did. The other nipple was tortured by the old fingernails, then it, too, was placed in the clover clamp's cruel embrace. The chain was short enough that each time the girl moved her head back even a little, it tugged painfully at the clamps. She did just this without meaning to when she felt something cold between her legs. She lifted her head again, watching. Mama San had a bowl of something, and a brush. She was dabbing it on the girl's crotch.
Mama San held up the bowl and grinned. She had few teeth. "This ginger. My own secret recipe!" she cackled. Auntie K chuckled and wheezed. She patted Shawn's stomach lightly while Mama San pulled out one lip, then the other, daubing the spicy liquid onto the girl, rubbing it in. It burned. Shawn took a deep breath and her head went back again when she felt the brush go just inside her, felt the juice trickle in, felt the burning.
"We train you," said Mama San. "We train you to be good slut."
"Nobody know her now," said Auntie K. She rarely spoke. Mama San hissed angrily at her, nodding at the girl, but Shawn did not seem aware of what had been said. She was pulling at the wrist cuffs. Her arms overhead and bent backwards made it hard to breathe. Her stomach was sucked in. She felt so open and vulnerable.
