Emma Henderson woke up long before dawn. She’d had a troubled dream.
She lay in bed and looked around at the room. It was sparsely
furnished, containing no more than the bed she lay in. But at least it
was reasonably warm and she had been allowed to take a blanket out of
the store two days ago. A week had passed since her last really Bad
Thought and life was becoming tolerable - almost - now that she was
starting her third month of The Experiment.
And then her mind went back to her childhood home, to the pink
wallpaper, the fluffy teddy bear by her side, the pretty curtains and
the lovely view over the gardens, so colourful with all the Spring
That was a mistake on Emma‘s part. Dissatisfaction equals a Bad
Thought! And Bad Thoughts are always punished. Retribution is instant
where Bad Thoughts are concerned, as Emma had been reminded of late,
very painfully and very often.
She suppressed the obscenity that had been on her lips. But she had
thought it, and that would do her no good!
The nails started to press into her bare skin. As a child Emma had read
of Indian mystics who can sleep in comfort on beds of nails but had
never anticipated that she might one day have a chance to try it
herself. Usually the nails were flush with the bed’s metal surface. But
a Bad Thought would cause them to rise, gradually piercing her skin, so
that she had no choice but to get up and stand on the metal floor. And
she knew her troubles weren’t over yet.
How long would it be before she could go back to bed? It was still
dark. She was tired after a long and arduous day. Was it worth it? All
this discomfort - pain, even?
Another Bad Thought! Silly girl! A surge of current made her jump. Her
long golden hair almost stood on end, although she should be used to
this by now! Poor Emma had lost track of the voltage her body had been
slammed with these last weeks! It felt like enough to light up a small
city! She screamed with the pain and shock. The current continued and
she jumped up and down in a vain endeavour to obtain at least a split
Just as the twitching, jerking Emma was about to pass out, the sliding
door opened. She was being instructed to go out into the night and the
cold! As if to emphasise her expulsion from the room, the current
surged again, flooding her with fresh pain. Desperate to get away from
the voltage coursing through her, she ran to the doorway, each footstep
giving her a fresh shock until she was outside. She danced in agony for
minutes after getting out of that electrified room, even though the
power had been switched off the second she stepped out into the night.
The door closed smoothly behind her, clicking shut with implacable
finality. She would be out here for at least six hours. Emma nursed her
soles tenderly but tried to feel resigned and philosophical as she
rubbed them. Being resigned and philosophical was the most she could
manage by way of a Good Thought in her present distressed state, with
the pain gradually ebbing away. It was the only way to avoid more
“Think Good Thoughts,” she told herself. “ Only Good Thoughts will
Thank goodness it was Summer - just about! The nights were still warm
enough for her to shiver no more than slightly, although this wouldn’t
last long and she was in for a hard time if she couldn’t control her
nocturnal Bad Thoughts.
In a few hours the sun would be up to warm her. She was tanned these
days - richly bronzed all over and if she only had a mirror, the sight
would certainly have pleased her, although being gratified at her
appearance was Vanity. And Vanity equalled a Bad Thought, so it was as
well that this temptation had been removed.
Emma felt the gooseflesh form as her body reacted to the night chill.
She had worn no clothes since being ordered to forfeit them three weeks
into her time here.
Laboratory! That really was a joke! If it was a lab, then she was the
Bad Thought, Emma!
Another seismic jolt of volts! The whole of this establishment was
metal floored inside and out. Metal was everywhere and always ready to
shock a disobedient or Bad Thinking Emma. Wherever she was, the sensor
would pick up her Bad Thoughts and punish her.
She stood on tiptoe and ran furiously on the spot to escape the shocks,
but was soon exhausted and sank to the ground where she lay, her body
twitching in agonised convulsions until she mercifully lost
consciousness. When she came round a few minutes later, the current had
been switched off. If only they would find some fresh way of punishing
Emma could take pain by now. She welcomed pain in the sense that it was
a spur to banishing her shameful Bad Thoughts, but she craved relief
from this particular type of agony. A session on the Spanking Machine
would be nice -relatively speaking! Even the Rack would make a change -
or a session in the Freezer.
Emma knew she needed to be punished. She wanted to be punished. That
was partly why she was here. Bad Thoughts had to be purged from her
mind for ever and she still wanted this more than she had ever wanted
anything. But this electric aversion therapy was really getting to her.
A quick, stabbing, surge of power reminded her that a fresh Bad Thought
had been thunk!
A change might be as good as a rest, but she knew by now that rest was
not on the agenda. And she HAD signed the consent forms. She was a
grown up woman who had been told exactly what to expect. What they were
doing to her was all very, very legal. What a fool she was!
It had all seemed such a wonderful idealistic scheme. Idealistic and
well paid. It was still well paid. At the end of three years she would
receive a handsome and inflation-proof income for life. In addition she
would be provided with three luxury homes, all in locations of her
choice. And she would still only be twenty two. Emma was incredibly
lucky to have been chosen for this great work. This was a Good Thought
- she hoped - and might earn her a few more privileges - even the
return of her clothes one day, hopefully before the weather got too
She dutifully reminded herself that she didn’t mind being naked all day
long! In any case she’d made a very good living out of her bare flesh
before coming here.
In fact it went further than her not minding it! She loved it! She
really truly loved it! Because anything the Professor wanted must be a
Good Thing! She loved all Good Things.
But the next two years and nine months would all be spent here alone in
this laboratory, confined in an experimental environment. Enough food
and drink had been left for her to last for the three years, provided
she ate and drank no more each day than the ration.
Life had been incredibly hard at first and she had only kept to the
diet by reminding herself how unpleasant it would be to starve to death
if the food ran out with weeks or even months still to go.
During her first week, some of her Bad Thoughts had been so utterly bad
that the door to the food store did not open for two whole days. When
it did finally open and she had tried to take out more than her daily
allocation to make up for the two day starvation, she had received her
first shock. Even today’s hardened Emma still found it hard to take the
shocks, but that first dose of voltage had made her jump several feet
into the air - or so it had seemed!
Thanks to her diet and the daily exercise regime Emma had shed many
pounds in her first weeks and was now very presentable, a slim and
enticing young woman - unlike the puffy faced and flabby girl who had
been brought here to begin the Experiment.
Emma didn’t consider herself to be a bad girl as girls go these days.
She swore a lot, punctuating her sentences with “cunts” and “fucks”
like her role models in the media, and so did all her friends. She
smoked - and not just tobacco! She frequently drank far more than she
ought and had consumed her first drink at the age of fifteen, having
fooled the bar person by plastering her sweet face with an impasto of
make up. But all girls behaved like that.
At University she had an affair with a young man, several years older
than she, followed by an abortion. But she was doing no more than
exercise A Woman’s Right to Choose What She Did With Her Own Body. And
this was the Twenty First Century. It was a shock when her parents
disowned her, though.
After a few months at College, she dropped out, despite having been
winner of a coveted Classical scholarship, and did some “modelling”.
Emma had a lovely face, a tempting if flabby body, and the kind of
golden hair that is seen less and less these days unless it comes out
of a bottle. She was also very photogenic and soon came to be in great
She posed for many extremely steamy sessions and even a pornographic
movie, her voluptuous nudity giving much happiness to many tired
businessmen! Although she was willing to pose for mainstream artistic
work and was very popular with some of the most distinguished
photographers, she seemed drawn to the less reputable aspects of her
Emma’s future descent into a life of liberated hedonism seemed assured
until she met Count Alexander Dobrynin. And the Professor.
The Count was the great grandson of a canny Russian
émigré who had skipped his country not long before the
tragic collapse of the old order and well before the abomination of
Communism destroyed all that was good in his nation before going on to
afflict and corrupt the rest of the world with its Godless wickedness.
The exiled Count had first converted most of his property into easily
transportable jewellery, which he had used to build a prosperous
manufacturing company. The present Count lived well but not too
extravagantly on his family’s wealth, leaving the running of the
business to others, although he maintained some interest in its
Some of these others were very clever people. Clever and ambitious. One
of them, known as the Professor, was the cleverest of them all and he
had very big ideas. The Count had, of late, become more and more
immersed in the affairs of the Russian Orthodox Church and increasingly
horrified at the debauchery and decadence he saw around him. The
Professor knew of the Count’s concerns and had talked him into agreeing
to and financing one of his pet projects.
It was this project that Emma was to play such a part in bringing to
fruition. One night in late May she was on her way home after a photo
shoot. Work had been followed by a binge drinking session with friends.
She was more than a little tipsy and feeling very happy, as she always
was after a heavy drinking session.
Following payment for displaying her private parts and apparently
allowing them to be penetrated by a stupendously well endowed young
gentleman of West African provenance (who had been one of her
companions in the bar later on) she was now able to afford that longed
for trip to the Antipodes.
All her life she had longed to visit the Great Barrier Reef. At first
it was the name that had taken her fancy and then she had read
everything about it she could lay her hands on . Emma had become more
and more fascinated as she learned about the wonders that lay beneath
the surface of that part of the wide Pacific. To go there would be the
very best holiday she had ever had and now she could afford it. Her
mind was distracted by alcohol and thoughts of the trip of a lifetime,
because she almost stepped off the kerb and under a bus. But Destiny
intervened in the shape of a tall bearded man.
“Careful, young lady! You’re much too lovely to be leaving the world
just yet, awhile!”
He had a deep voice - he must be a great basso profundo - thought the
musically inclined Emma. - and sounded incredibly cultured - right out
of the top drawer. Emma was impressed. She liked toffs, having once
been one herself before starting her slide into debauchery and being
shunned by her outraged family.
“Yeah! I don’t really fancy cashing in my chips just yet! Fuck me, no!”
She continued to hold forth in an amiable if indistinct voice.
“You look just my type. If your dick’s as long as your beard - that is!
Fancy a shag, darling? You can shag me any time, gorgeous! Come home
and get a night with me for free! Screw the fucking arse off me,
darling - anytime! I owe you for saving my life and there‘s no charge
for hunks like you!”
Having delivered herself of the foregoing unladylike protestations of
undying gratitude, Emma vomited, barely avoiding ruining her rescuer‘s
expensive shoes. Then she passed out. She really had had an awful lot
The next she knew she was in strange surroundings with her bearded
rescuer looking down at her, a kindly and concerned expression on his
“How are you feeling, my dear?” he asked in a friendly voice. “I’ve
been very worried about you. In case you want to know where you are, I
took you back to my home after you collapsed so spectacularly and
messily! I suppose I should have called for assistance, but the thought
of you drying out in a filthy police cell didn’t appeal to me - and I
imagine it would have been rather distasteful for you!”
Emma groaned. She felt awful! Was it worth this misery the morning
after every time she had far too much to drink? Maybe today was the
time to repent and turn her life around. She saw an icon on the wall.
The Theotokos and Child stared down at her. In the presence of the
divine she felt great shame.
“Thank you for helping me! Although it might have been a good thing if
I had been arrested and hauled through the courts. I am a bad person. I
can see it now. I am on the road to total ruin. You can have no idea,
sir! No idea at all!”
“I’m sure there is hope for us all my dear! There is One whose wish it
is that none should perish. But you are still very unwell and suffering
from alcoholic depression. The world will seem less terrible in a few
hours! I’ll leave you to rest and recover and send you something to
drink which should help! It’s a sovereign remedy for even the worst
hangover! I should know! In the years of my wild youth it picked me up
more times than I care to remember!”
And then the bearded stranger left. A few seconds later another man,
presumably a servant, came into the room and handed her a glass. She
drank. The effects were incredible! Emma felt better in seconds. The
room stopped revolving and her head seemed to shrink back to its
original size. In two minutes Emma was fast asleep.
When Emma woke up it was light. Judging by the angle of the sun’s rays
streaming into the room it was getting on for midday. Despite her
dissipated lifestyle, Emma was usually an early riser so she got
guiltily out of bed.
She was not in her own room. It was a large chamber, decorated
predominantly in blue. She looked around. A lot of time and money had
been spent on this room. She knew enough about furniture to recognise
some pretty expensive stuff when she saw it. And the bed had been one
of the most comfortable she had ever slept in.
Now that she had rested and the miracle pick-me-up had done its work,
she was ready to face the world. The first item on the agenda was to
thank the nice kind man who had looked after her, saving her from
arrest for being drunk and incapable. With a shudder she recalled the
coarse things she had said to him. If only her drunkenness had erased
those horrible words from her mind, so that they might not be a
reproach to her! But it has to be said that the invitation to him to
make love to her had been serious, and she still hoped something might
one day be arranged along these lines! She really did fancy him in a
But this was a true gentleman and her behaviour had been appalling.
Emma was no lady these days, but she wanted to be worthy of this
benefactor. Although she was fully restored physically her mind was
still full of guilt. To be worthy of the love of a good man meant that
she must try to become a good woman. But where was she to start? It was
as challenging a task in its way as rebuilding Dresden must have been
in 1945 or New Orleans today!
The icon was still on the wall and she went over and looked closely at
it. It looked old somehow. She guessed that it was pretty valuable,
although something told her that it was an act of profanity to place
monetary value on this particular artefact. She touched it gently and
felt something pass from her fingertips right through her body.
Later on she was to have many experiences with electricity but nothing
was ever to affect her like the touch of that holy object, the work of
devoted hands hundreds of years ago.
Then she went to the dressing table. She looked into the mirror at her
face. It was still very pretty - beautiful, even. But she felt it was
not mere imagination that showed her that the results of her sinful
life were beginning to affect her appearance. Emma looked hard and
coarse behind that fragile loveliness. And she could stand losing a few
pounds! She slipped out of her clothes and went to the en suite
bathroom. As she showered, she gazed down at her thighs and stomach and
the rolls of spare flesh that had begun to mar her beauty. Fifteen
minutes later, feeling something like normal, she went downstairs and
tried to find her host.
A look out of the window had given her quite a shock. She recognised
the road outside at the end of the long garden. It was The Bishop’s
Avenue! One of her friends at school had lived here - one of her very
much richer friends! This man - her rescuer - wasn’t merely nice. He
was nice and extremely rich with it!
Being nice was good. Being rich was even better. Being nice AND rich
was to attain heights of goodness that the majority of us can only
She reached the hallway and saw an open door. A man was standing inside
the room, bending over the table, removing plates and cups. Someone had
just eaten. She recognised the servant who had brought her the life
“Thanks for giving me that wonderful stuff earlier on. Gosh! Sorry to
make you jump!”
For the man had been startled by her abrupt entry.
“Quite all right, Miss! Nice to see you up and about. I’m afraid the
Count is not at home at present. Would you like to eat? He says you are
welcome to stay here as long as you like. If you want to go to your own
home, I am instructed to drive you wherever you wish.”
“Thanks. I am pretty ravenous.”
She surprised herself by saying that! Usually she would have expressed
her desire to eat in more basic Anglo Saxon terms. I will not exemplify!
Soon she was tucking in to a full English breakfast. And there is not a
more satisfying meal to be found in the whole wide world. He or she who
has slept the sleep of the just deserves nothing less in the morning!
Even so, it seemed incongruous and wrong to be breakfasting at such a
late hour. But one has to start the day somewhere.
The servant came and took away the breakfast things. Emma smilingly
thanked him. She had been expensively educated and was still capable of
politeness, despite her foul mouth. She asked him his name and was told
it was Harrison.
“When does the - Count, did you say he was - get back.? I’d like to
thank him but I do have things to do. I can’t remember being up this
fucking late before. I’m a busy girl these days, although I’m taking a
few months off from the fucking treadmill soon. I‘m off to Oz to get
wasted on Fosters, shagged witless and shitless by a posse of Bondi
lifeguards and see the barrier reef”
There was a look of pure pain on Harrison’s face. Emma felt guilty
again. A perceptive girl, she saw plainly that her witticism had failed
“Sorry about the language, Harrison. I just feel if men can talk that
way, then why not us girls? “
“Think nothing of it, Miss. I’m sure you have a point. But we don’t
talk like that in this house as a rule. The Count doesn’t like it.”
“I didn’t know we had Counts in this country! Aren’t they kind of
foreign - Counts, I mean? But he talks like an Englishman - and the
best kind at that!”
“He is English, Miss. His family have lived here since nineteen
fifteen. They came from Russia originally. His great grandfather could
see the Revolution coming and got out with as much of the family
property as he could turn into ready cash. The present Count feels his
ancestor behaved badly - leaving the sinking ship when his country was
at war - and now he wants to do his bit for the new Russia after the
Reds have gone. He’s most likely at some conference today. He could
even have gone to visit his company’s offices.”
“Company? What company?”
“Grand Imperial United”
“Wow! I’ve heard of them. Really into the latest scientific research.
So he’s Count Dobrynin! I’ve heard about his company. One of my clients
worked there for a while.”
The client in question had commissioned a series of photos of the juicy
Emma, concentrating mainly on her anal sphincter. She scarcely
considered that to be her prize asset. She was proud of her face, her
breasts and her long legs and knew that men appreciated the delights of
her pussy, but how anyone could be pleased by the sight of her bum hole
was a mystery! But business was business and so long as she was paid
handsomely and on time it was fine by her.
She had seen some of the pictures afterwards and even her hardened
stomach had almost rebelled at the sight. What kind of people were
turned on by that? The client said that the illustrations were to be
for a medical textbook, but the ever sceptical Emma had her doubts!
“I’ll wait for a couple of hours. I’d really like to thank the Count
personally. He was the archetypical Good Samaritan last night. You
don’t run into real gentlemen like that any too often. In fact I hardly
seem to meet them at all since my father kicked me out!”
Harrison gave her the run of the house and she found herself ,after
trying a few rooms, in the library.
“I wonder if he’s read all these books?” she wondered aloud. “If he
has, he must be pretty clever!”
She took down a volume of Euripides and read a few pages. She sighed as
she replaced the book. If only she hadn’t dropped out! Why had she? But
she knew the answer to that question.
By four o’clock, the Count had still not returned and Emma, having left
him her address and telephone number, was driven home by the helpful
Harrison. It was a long time since she had been in a Rolls and that had
been at a friend’s funeral last year. The friend in question -another
“model” - had succumbed to an overdose. That Rolls had broken down a
hundred yards short of the cemetery and Emma and three other mourners
had been obliged to walk the rest of the way, feeling somewhat stupid.
But this car was in perfect working order, as well as being a lot newer.
Her evening assignment, which had prevented her waiting for her host’s
return, was a lesbian session. The robustly heterosexual Emma wasn’t a
bit keen on this kind of thing but, like so many others, had been
influenced by the prevailing climate of Political Correctness into
accepting that she must suppress her natural distaste in the interests
of Tolerance. And the fee was very generous - well above the usual rate!
After it was all over she declined Gloria’s suggestion that they have a
drink before going home. Gloria was the other girl in the shoot. Gloria
had, to Emma, appeared to be enjoying herself immensely. Emma had very
She was in the bathroom gargling with Listerine to remove the taste of
Gloria’s none too clean womanhood from her mouth and shuddering at the
horrible memory, when the phone rang.
“Hello, Emma? It’s Alex. From yesterday. You stayed at my house. How
“Oh. You’re called Alex, are you? I only knew of you as ‘The Count’.
I’m fine, thanks, although it hasn’t been the best day of my life so
I had a photographic assignment and it was horrible - just ghastly. But
I’m fine now! And thank you so much for helping me last night. I’m so
grateful and so sorry for the disgusting things I said to you. Can you
ever forgive me?”
“You were forgiven anyway, my dear. No need to ask! I’m having a few
friends around. How would you like to come for dinner tonight, or are
you too busy and tired?”
Emma couldn’t remember feeling so excited in years! When she was a
child, her father had promised to take her skating one particularly
cold day. It had been magical! That was how she felt now.
“I’d love to have dinner with you! After the nasty things I said, I’m
surprised you asked me, but I’d absolutely love it!”
Twenty minutes later she was once again in the comfortable back seat of
the Count’s Rolls Royce and being whisked silently to his mansion in
N6. Alexander greeted her and showed her inside. It was a warm night
and Emma had chosen to wear a low cut red gown which showed her still
pleasing shoulders and arms to advantage. She had only a silk wrap to
cover her shoulders from the night air and this she handed to Harrison,
who was obviously impressed at what he saw, as was his employer!
“I have a favour to ask of you. I hope you don’t mind having to work a
little for your evening!”
“No. I owe you plenty of favours, Alex. What can I do for you?”
“I have a few people coming later. They are all couples - married men
and their ladies. I, a poor lonely old bachelor have usually to
entertain my guests myself. I wonder if you would care to be help out
and be the lady of the house this evening? It won’t be hard! Just smile
and be nice and talk to my chief guest while I chat to his wife.
Afterwards I’d be glad if you’d stay awhile - once the others have gone
-and we can find out more about each other - if you’d like to, that is.”
Emma assured him that she would like nothing more. The two stood inches
apart and Emma looked into his piercing blue eyes and he into hers.
Then the first guests were announced and they went to welcome them.
Emma enjoyed playing the hostess. The chief guest, beside whom she sat
at dinner, was a Professor Colin Wedderburn. Alex had referred to him
as “The Professor”.
“He’s my top research man, Emma. I think a lot of him. I hope you like
him as much as I do.”
Emma was not too sure that she would ever really like this man, but he
certainly interested her. He was as tall as the Count, but thinner and
stooping where her host and rescuer was straight and well built. Emma
realised that she was being subjected to the sort of small talk that
some men consider to be all that women are good for. Where the Count
treated her as an equal, this man looked down on her. She could tell
that he looked down on her a lot more when she mentioned Jeremy
Jeremy had been the ex employee of Imperial United who had commissioned
Emma’s disgusting photo session a few months ago when she had spread
her cheeks for the alleged benefit of medical learning.
“Sandwell? I do remember him. A promising physician with a bent for
research. But our rules are very strict when it comes to viewing
indecent images on the company’s computers. A shame he left us, though.
Hard to replace.”
She just knew that Wedderburn had seen the photos! From then on Emma
had a hard time engaging him in any kind of conversation at all. The
man seemed to have become very thoughtful and withdrawn. Emma supposed
that he would tell his employer just what a distasteful occupation his
latest female companion pursued. And that would be the end of this
As soon as the guests had all gone, Emma decided to tell Alexander a
few disagreeable things about herself in order to forestall the
“I’m not a nice girl, Alex. I’m a total disaster area, believe me! You
think you know how bad I am, but it goes a lot further than my swearing
like a trooper and getting horribly drunk and spewing up on the
pavement the other night. I did so well at school and the world seemed
to be at my feet, but I dropped out of University after having an
abortion. I met this wonderful guy and he made me pregnant and walked
out on me. Since then I have made a living making dirty films and being
photographed nude doing lots of revolting things. Some of them have
been so revolting they even put me off, which isn’t easy I can tell
you! You don‘t want anything to do with me, my precious darling! And
now, I‘ll be going home. I‘ll get a taxi - no need to worry.”
But Alex wasn’t worried about her disreputable career and fallen
condition. He had fallen for Emma just as badly as Emma had fallen for
him. It might be a most unlikely coupling but the two quickly
discovered that they were very much in love.
She didn’t go home that night, and spent hours pouring out a tearful
recital of her many offences against decency to her unlikely lover.
But she didn’t sleep with the Count. Once again she spent the night in
The Blue Room. But this time the pair did breakfast together.
“So you are still set on visiting the Barrier Reef?” asked Alexander.
“Oh, yes! I suppose you wouldn’t care to come? Maybe you have a private
“I am far too busy, alas. And I don’t run to a private jet, I’m afraid.
The Rolls is mine and another, but I own no other transport. When you
return, perhaps you’ll be able to answer my question of last night?”
The question referred to had been a proposal of marriage. After hearing
her tale of moral depravity, Alexander’s incredible response had been
to ask Emma to marry him! And they hardly knew each other. Emma was
strongly tempted to accept but didn’t. Her own self loathing made it
impossible. How could a repulsive slut like her marry someone like him,
who was almost a saint?
She decided that for Alexander’s sake she must break off their
relationship. He was a well known figure despite not courting
publicity. His company was very large and at the cutting edge of some
interesting new technologies. Being associated with a grubby little
tramp like her was just what he didn’t need!
And there was another consideration. Being married to the saintly Count
would make her very happy indeed. It would make her far happier than
her wildest dreams!
But happiness was something she didn’t deserve. Emma would never
forgive herself for consenting to the destruction of her unborn child.
She might not know this, but guilt and disgust at her wickedness were
ever present. She was being slowly but surely destroyed by her remorse
and wouldn’t accept salvation, preferring instead to advance to the
eternal perdition she felt herself to deserve.
Meeting the Professor accidentally, a day or two before her flight to
Australia, was to prove decisive.
“Miss Henderson? How delightful to see you. Have you time for a coffee?
It‘s that time of day!”
Emma was in Harrods and reacted like a naughty little girl to hear the
Professor’s voice. This man knew her for what she was and despised her.
The Count also knew what she had done (she had told him everything,
weeping and sobbing while he tried to comfort her) and forgave her. But
the Professor was a cold hearted Puritan. He also knew how damaging it
could be for his employer if the media found out too much about Emma’s
But Emma managed a smile. They found a not too crowded café and
she waited to see what it was that the Professor, a busy man and not
one to waste valuable time in idle conversation, wanted from her. She
guessed that it was to warn her to steer clear of Count Alexander in
future. Well, she had already decided on this.
“I’m not seeing Alex any more. I love him too much to want to hurt him.
Breaking off with him is the best thing I can do for him. You know all
about me, I don’t doubt. I’m a ...ing slut and a general disgrace to
the human race in general and my sex in particular. He’s too good for
me. Most people are too good for me!”
“But you could do something for him, my dear. I think you might be the
ideal subject for an experiment which might put the Company into an
unassailable leadership position. We are discreetly advertising for
this post but I am sure you would have a very good chance of
succeeding. And it would be very useful to the Count. You’d like to
help him, wouldn’t you?”
Emma certainly would like to help the man she loved. Marrying him would
only bring him disgrace, but helping his company become stronger would
be her way of paying just a part of her debt and expressing just a
fraction of her love. If it lay within her power, then she would do it!
“If it helps Alex then count me in. No pun intended! What is it all
“It is a way of picking up electrical impulses from the human brain ,
interpreting them and translating them into English so that every
thought can be detected. We see it as a way of reforming criminals. If
we can only get inside their minds and see how they arrive at their
anti social mindset we are well on the way to transforming them into
useful members of society.”
“But aren’t a lot of thoughts wordless! Don’t they just consist of
feelings and emotions like anger and sorrow? Can the machine pick up on
that? And what good would that do?”
“It would depend on what angered the thinker. I have done a lot of
work, Miss Henderson, these last months. Righteous anger can be
detected and distinguished from bad anger - of that I am convinced. But
we daren’t market a product like this without long and thorough
testing. We need a sort of human guinea pig. And we’d need him or her
for a very long time - three years in fact.”
“Why so long?”
“I don’t only want to read the subject’s mind, Emma, I wish to change
the personality, removing bad thoughts and changing them permanently
for the better. That will take at least three years. I aim to turn an
imperfect human being into someone who has no trace of vice or malice
in their entire personality.”
“I am interested, Professor. But I don’t want Alexander knowing what
I’m doing. Is it possible to conceal something like that from him in
his own company?”
“He’d find out in the end, of course. But not until the close of the
experiment, or at the very least until it had gone too far to abort. He
leaves a great deal to my discretion, Emma. If you should be selected,
I suggest you write to him from Australia to say you have taken up
offers of assignments there and will not be home for some time - maybe
a few years. But first you must pass the aptitude tests.”
A letter inviting Emma to attend a country house selection panel
arrived next day. There were ten others on the list of hopefuls, all
attracted by the more than generous financial inducements. Emma was
alone among the ten in being very suspicious of the Company’s seeming
generosity. She knew enough of the world to see that nothing is free in
life. If it was worth their while paying the successful applicant so
lavishly, then either the three years were going to be pretty horrible,
or the potential profits accruing to the Company from this invention
were astronomic - or both, of course!
All applicants were told to be their normal selves. This was stressed
time and time again as being of the utmost importance. Seven of the
others were men and of the three women, Emma was the youngest and
prettiest. She also had by far the greatest fund of disgusting stories,
which the excellent food and fine wines they were plied with drew out
of her each evening to the delight of all the others.
On the third and final night, having told the others early on that she
was a topless and nude model, she did a striptease act for the seven
men. Her brazen lack of shame or embarrassment left them all
speechless. But Emma did not accept any of their offers of sex. She
still remembered Alex, and if the thought of his personal goodness did
not stop her behaving disgracefully in many ways, the memory of her
love for him prevented her giving her body to another man, at least for
the time being. She had no idea how long this unaccustomed reluctance
would last. Probably not too long!
Emma never got as far as the Barrier Reef. After two days in Sydney she
heard from the Professor. Would she return to take part in a final
elimination? All her expenses were to be paid, including a flight back
to Australia should she not be finally successful. She knew perfectly
well that she would be successful.
In his message, the Professor told her she had passed all the medical
tests with flying colours. Much of the three days had been passed in
completing several arduous physical sessions in which stamina and
durability were tested to the limit. Only Emma and one of the men came
through these in anything like good shape. The two other women were
quite exhausted and had to drop out less than halfway through.
She had been obliged to allow her medical records to be shown to the
selectors. Since Emma had never experienced a day’s illness other than
of the self-inflicted and alcoholic variety, she was hardly surprised
to have passed the medical examination. Something told her that she
would need every ounce of her physical fitness over the next three
years, but she was still obsessed with doing something to help
This time they did not visit the country house. The elimination was
held in a suite in a none too pretentious hotel in West London. It was
explained to the finalists that compatibility with the thought sensor
was the main object of the exercise.
Both Emma and Harold, the other applicant, were amazed at how their
thoughts were being interpreted by the invention. They each agreed as
they took their leave of each other that it was uncanny and very
disturbing to think how all their innermost thoughts were detected so
“I don’t like it, Emma!” said Harold. “Even if they do choose me, I’ll
turn it down. It’s not worth ten times what they’re offering us. It’s
so sinister! No human should ever have such knowledge and power over
Emma was still infatuated with the Count, although she disliked the
Professor as much as ever. And this device would only be used in penal
institutions to help reform wrongdoers. Instead of being locked up for
many years, they could be released after only a short time with all
their vices cured for ever.
Next day was Sunday and Emma went for a stroll on what might be one of
her last days of freedom before placing herself at the Professor’s
disposal for thirty six months. She shivered at the thought and felt
fear for the first time.
As chance would have it she passed the entrance to a church and saw a
few worshippers hurrying to make it in time for the start of the Mass.
Emma had been confirmed at fifteen and had been a regular communicant
until going up to University and seduced.
So she went into the church and sat near the rear. As the choir and
clergy entered, preceded by the thurifer swinging the censer and
filling the church with the well remembered scent of holiness it was as
if all her recent history of depravity had never happened. But it had
The opening Collect, with its well remembered words, struck her
forcibly, especially one phrase. “..all hearts be open, all desires
known and from whom no secrets are hid.”
That’s what this machine would ensure! A power that was once God’s
alone was being placed in the hands of Mankind! She felt the first
stirrings of doubt.
Emma sat in her seat when her turn came to go up to the altar. She knew
she was quite unworthy to receive the Sacrament, despite the sincerity
with which she had said the words of the Confession. As she repeated
the words “Provoking most justly thy wrath and indignation against us,”
all the horror of what she had done struck her again. The words of the
Absolution gave her no assurance that she could ever be forgiven. Emma
still hated herself too much to believe that anything about her could
still be worth loving.
But Alexander loved her and this had sown a tiny seed of hope.
On Monday she was told to report to the Company’s research
establishment in Hampshire, bringing her lawyer with her. She had
already been warned that this would be essential and had given prior
notice to Mr Ferguson her family’s solicitor.
As she showed her pass to the security guard and drove into the well
guarded converted Royal Air Force station, she thought that this was to
be her home for three long years. But a surprise was in store for her.
The Professor was waiting for them in his office in the Admin block.
“Good morning Emma! Congratulations on passing all the selection
processes! Since the only other remaining contestant has been obliged
by reason of family circumstances to withdraw, you are to be our human
guinea pig! Before starting you off on the Experiment, I must get you
to sign some forms and explain some of what will be involved.”
Emma nodded. All she wanted now was to get on with it!
“I don’t suppose for a second that it’s going to be a picnic,
Professor. Companies don’t pay what you’re paying me out of the
goodness of their hearts! All those physical endurance tests you put us
through made me realise that a lot of the experiment will be tough.
Perhaps you’ll be about to explain exactly how tough?”
“It will be a matter of rewards and punishments for much of the time,
Emma. You will be quite alone for almost all of the time. When you
think bad and anti social thoughts you will be punished. Punishment
will take many forms, none of which will leave any permanent physical
effects. Hard work will be part of your daily regime for all your time
on the island. I imagine that hard physical work has not been a part of
your life these last few years, although you still remain a fit young
“I have tended to let myself go a bit. Too much to eat and drink. But I
came through all the tests OK so I can’t have let things slide that
“No, Emma. You remain basically in very good shape and we could not
have chosen you otherwise.”
“What exactly will the punishments consist of?”
“Beatings, deprivation of clothing, confinement, electric shocks and
being made to stay out of doors for long periods. We also have
developed a very special kind of bed which will make sleeping
impossible if you have bad thoughts at night. But you will be alone and
all the punishments will be delivered by machines. For the first months
you will probably have a very painful time, but adjustment will be
rapid and life will soon become bearable and, by degree, pleasant. If
we feel that we have learnt all we can from you before the three years
are up, then we will come for you and you may return to your own life.”
“You mean you have a machine that will beat me? How kinky!” Emma
giggled at the idea, but the Professor did not smile.
“All your punishments will be graded in severity, Emma. And once you
have committed yourself there can be no turning back. Here are some
notes relating to the regime. I will leave you alone with Mr Ferguson
to decide. This kind of commitment cannot be entered into lightly.”
As soon as they were alone, Mr Ferguson pleaded with his young client
to come back to London with him and forget this idea.
“Don’t do it, Emma! Don’t even think about it. It’s not worth the
money. Why don’t you go back to College and get your degree? It’s not
too late and I know your parents would be delighted.”
“My parents! Don’t make me ...ing laugh Mr Ferguson! They disowned me
and they meant it. My life’s as good as over, as far as my being any
use is concerned. I’m doing this for a good man who will put this
invention to good use. That’s all that matters. Let’s get these papers
signed and witnessed, shall we? And don’t breathe a word of what has
gone on here to anyone. Not ever!”
“Did you write to the Count from Sydney?” asked the Professor as soon
as the lawyer had left, unsuccessful in his bid to persuade Emma not to
go any further with the Experiment.
“Yes. I take it I won’t be spending the next three years here, then?”
Emma had heard the Professor mention an island. So the location of this
particular bit of research was somewhere else - somewhere even more
secluded and restricted than this well guarded establishment.
“Yes, Miss Henderson. The company has its own private island, some
seventy miles from the nearest inhabited location. You will forgive me
if I don’t tell you where it is exactly, but it’s to the South West of
Cornwall. It will be a little milder there in the winter than here,
which is a good thing as you may well be spending a lot of time out of
“Out of doors?”
“Yes. Punishments will take many forms and exclusion from the living
quarters will be part of the regime, as will deprivation of clothing in
whole or in part. The whole place is fully automated and bad thoughts
will trigger off automatic actions. You will discover all this for
yourself. If you cooperate fully with us, the unhappy part of your stay
there will be short. You do want to be a better person, don’t you?”
Emma nodded. If it helped Alexander who, for some unaccountable reason,
loved her then she wanted to be a better person and help establish this
invention as a weapon in the war against crime and evil.
She envisaged Osama Bin Laden wired up to the thought sensor, having
all the stupefying immensity of twisted malevolence purged from him. In
his case, thought Emma, it would take a lot longer than three years.
And when the evil had been removed - what would be left of him? Nothing!
“Can I take anything with me to the Island, Professor? Clothes, books,
tapes, that sort of thing?”
“We have provided you with all we consider you to need. If you wish to
continue your studies, there is a collection of classical works which I
think you’ll find pretty comprehensive. You will have writing
materials, although no letter may be sent for as long as the Experiment
continues. Also there will be satellite television, so you will not
entirely lose touch with what is going on in the world.”
“That’s good. It will be good to watch George W fighting his war on
Terror and our sycophantic Tony brown nosing him. I must say that
that’s two bastards I won’t mind missing totally for three years. Three
centuries would be too short!”
She laughed at this witticism. There were times when she surprised
herself! But the Professor, she noticed, was not amused. Just what did
she have to do in order to make this cold fish smile?
If she had known that the Professor had high hopes of selling his
products for a huge sum to the FBI, CIA and other regiments in the
Armies of Righteousness, she would have seen that her little joke might
not have seemed too funny. The thought that some collection of neocon
religious nuts might one day be using the machine to turn Darwinists
into Creationists by electro aversion therapy and deprivation of sleep
and clothing did not concern him. He was as much a man of business as a
man of science these days.
But Emma was young, pleasure loving and totally uninterested in serious
matters. Apart from the fact that her father was a Conservative MP with
whose politics she still agreed, despite having been disowned by him,
she had little concern for such things.
And the three year experiment was going to be pretty serious just by
itself! It would contain all the seriousness she could cope with, and
The Professor indicated that it was time to leave. They walked across
to the helicopter pad and soon Emma, the Professor and three assistants
were being whisked across the grey Atlantic swell to the remote island
laboratory which was to be Home Sweet Home for thirty six interesting,
if sometimes painful months.
Emma disembarked from the helicopter and looked around at the windswept
island. As a place to spend a goodly part of her life, it had its
drawbacks, being remote, cold and generally uninviting. She saw a few
old huts by the shore and inland a metal fenced perimeter. There was a
nice sandy beach, but that would doubtless not be for her to spend the
summer months on!
Behind that high fence she imagined would be her new home and scene of
her transformation from a dissipated young trollop into a Right
Thinking person. In would go a dirty little foul-mouthed slut and out
would come a Model Citizen - the first of many to be redeemed by means
of the Professor’s invention. She wished she could feel a bit more
excited and a bit less cold!
“Are you going up to the laboratory with me, then?”
Emma didn’t want to stay here out in the open any longer than she could
help. She couldn’t wait to get inside the living quarters.
“No. You will walk up that pathway and push open the gate. It will
close behind you and not open again for three years. The living
quarters will be directly opposite, on the far side of the perimeter.
You will go straight there and read the instructions that you will find
on a notice board. These are for general guidance. More specific
instructions will be delivered over a public address system. But you
must first remove your shoes and stockings.”
“Stockings! What Ark are you out of Prof! I only wear tights in the
winter and not even then unless it’s fucking well perishing! Look after
these shoes, Prof! They cost me an arm and a leg! It took me two steamy
sessions to pay for them! But I expect you know that! You’ve got the
photos, haven‘t you Prof, you sly old devil!”
Once again she was struck by the scientist’s lack of response. What did
it take to make him smile? She removed her shoes and handed them, not
to the Professor, but to one of his assistants. She stood in her bare
feet and wriggled her toes apprehensively, hoping that the ground
inside the perimeter would be nice and smooth! The pathway leading up
to the distant laboratory looked pretty stony - but as long as picked
her way carefully she foresaw no great difficulty in getting to her
goal without too many abrasions.
“Where does the electricity come from so far from land?”
“We are connected by a cable. In the event of any disruption a local
generator will automatically come on stream and we will send people
over to repair any damage. Maintenance staff are the only ones you will
meet whilst you are here. Power to heat your living quarters will be
generated by you personally. There is a pedal operated dynamo which you
will operate for several hours daily to recharge the batteries. That
alone will give you much hard work!”
“What about food and drink?”
“We have a refrigerated food store and freezer. There is sufficient to
feed you for three years, but don’t take more than the daily ration or
your last weeks will be very unpleasant! If a power failure causes the
food to perish than someone will be sent over to replenish the supply.
And now, I have a meeting in London. I bid you farewell, Miss
Henderson. Good luck and once again thank you for your cooperation!”
By the time the helicopter was airborne and heading back to the
mainland, Emma was halfway up to the perimeter. It had started raining
and she was getting soaked. “Never mind the stones!“ she thought.
“Let’s get out of this wet and cold before I perish!”
As the Professor had said, the gate closed automatically behind her.
She touched it to see if she could get it open again and got her first
electric shock! The fence was electrified. She touched it again - more
gingerly this time and staggered away from the fence, falling on her
back. That second shock had been something else!
Then she walked across to the open door opposite. Once inside she shook
the water out of her hair and looked around for a towel. The room was
quite bare and outside the rain was getting stronger by the second. The
room was cold as well as bare and Emma felt like crying. But she was a
big girl now, so she swore horribly instead!
She’d need to get some heat in here, or die! Over against the cluster
of buildings on the west side of the establishment was the dynamo!
Despite the downpour she would need to go and do a few hours’
pedalling! Not anxious to stand around in wet clothes, she removed them
and went over to the notice board.
There was a map of the laboratory. One building was a clothing store,
but it was closed and not due to open until the next day. The other was
a food store, which ought to be open but wasn’t. Then came the first of
many messages over the PA system
“Access to food denied for twelve hours!”
Emma swore again, even more horribly than before. But she needed to
heat up this room. So, naked and shivering, she ran over to the machine
and started pedalling as hard as she could. After three hours she was
exhausted, but there was no red light on the dial and she had been told
that she must not cease until this light appeared, on pain of being
excluded from the living quarters. It was two more hours before the
longed for light appeared and she staggered back to the room. It had
stopped raining after the first hour and Emma was covered in sweat by
She fell asleep on the hard bed, dreaming of that blessed moment when
the food store opened!
Although Emma had been tired when she fell asleep she woke up early.
She was so hungry that she couldn’t sleep. Once again she went over to
the notice board. It seemed that her stint on the dynamo was to precede
all other activities, including eating. She used the toilet and washed
herself, shivering as the cold water touched her skin.
“Stand under the shower for five minutes. Do not move! Get directly
under the shower head. Keep perfectly still!”
Damn that public address system! Didn’t it have anything good to tell
“Subject will stand one further minute under shower!”
Of course! She was being overheard! Every bad thought would get her a
punishment! She deliberately kept her mind a total blank. But this
wasn’t as easy as she had thought. As the freezing cold water cascaded
over her head and flowed down her plump but pleasing body she found all
manner of thoughts besieging her. It was no use! She must think and she
must think positively.
“I bet this is doing me good! Nothing better than a lovely cold shower
first thing in the morning! Three gorgeous years of this. Whoopee!!”
But it was a long six minutes and she guessed the sensor could pick up
Then over to the dynamo, dressed this time. It was dry and promising to
be a sunny day. By the time she had caused the red light to come on it
was well past the time when she could have some food. She went across
to the food store and took out as much food as she was entitled to. The
cooking facilities were adequate and soon she was having her first hot
meal in two days. It tasted good, although she could have done with a
Then she went over to the television room. It was locked. That was
probably for the swearing last night! The library and reading room were
open, though, and she spent a few hours catching up on Plato’s
Republic. Once again she asked herself why she had abandoned what could
have been a brilliant career.
She composed a poem in Latin. But the sensor obviously knew this
particular dead language and disapproved of the content, because she
was told to leave and run around the perimeter seven times. It was a
long way to run in bare feet and she was feeling extremely sore when
finally she sank to the ground and nursed her tender soles.
“Why did I let myself in for this load of bollocks!”
She leapt to her feet, jumping at least seventeen feet into the air. It
felt like seventeen feet. Bad talk could obviously be detected as well
as bad thoughts!
She saw now why she had to be barefoot. The floor of the entire
compound was criss-crossed by wires, so that it was impossible not to
be standing on one no matter where she was.
“Subject will remain excluded for twelve hours!”
That would mean well past midnight before she got to bed.
Emma ruefully accepted that she was not off to the best of starts!
But it was a very warm day and the rain that had spoiled her first day
seemed to be gone for the time being. Doubtless it was now over England
and making the Professor's life a misery. Emma tried not to feel
pleased about this. Nice Professor!
And then she recalled to mind that pinched severe face and stooping
shoulders. The bastard!
BZZZZ! BZZZZ!!! But milder this time. Just a gentle warning, really.
She skipped up and down and apologised.
But the long wait did little for her patience. She took off her clothes
and tried to lie in the sun, but this seemed to displease the thought
reading machine. A series of small shocks kept her body tingling
unpleasantly and she reluctantly got to her feet and stood trying to
feel patience and submission.
Finally, she exploded and hurled a veritable carpet bombing of
basphemies and obscenities at the various thought and sound detection
devices positioned at regular intervals around the camp.
"Subject will report to Punishment Room immediately!"
"Well, stuff you! Get lost. Go and play with yourself, Prof you sick
minded old wanker!"
She was starting to laugh at this last sally when the hardest shock yet
made her come to her senses. She really must pull herself together.
This man meant business and she had to cooperate with him. She was a
volunteer, after all and it was pretty feeble of her to be rebelling
after so short a time.
Emma walked apprehensively to the Punishment Room. She had seen last
night that it was a very large room! Heaven only knew what horrors it
"Let's hope they let me off lightly!" she thought as she entered and
heard the door close behind her.
Emma looked somewhat fearfully around the Punishment Room. OK, then!
She looked around in absolute terror! She’d never been more shit scared
in her life! Not even when she had been summoned to the Headmistress’s
study the morning after returning to school from an evening pass as
drunk as the proverbial skunk had she felt quite so petrified as she
(The good lady had first read her a solemn lecture on the Evils of
Drink, Especially Where Vulnerable Young Women are Concerned, which had
so amused her it had been a struggle to keep a straight face and then
given her eight cuts of the cane on her bare and already fleshy rump.
That had not amused her quite so much and she had sworn aloud,
surprising even the casehardened Head by her deep and wide knowledge of
decidedly unseemly language, thereby earning herself four more stinging
What an idiot to shout all those things at the Professor, who was
certainly listening to all her ravings in the comfort of his office!
What had possessed her? Well - she was in for it now!
“Subject will remove all clothing and lie face down on the large table!”
Emma took off her clothes, not without some relief, for they were
beginning to smell after all the exercise and she needed a change of
underwear in any case. After she had been let out of here, she must go
to the Clothing Store and Laundry Room and change.
She lay on the cold metal table and waited to be told what to do next.
“Subject will place her hands and feet on the corners!”
Emma was just about able to reach the four corners of the large table,
although it was quite a stretch. With a snap, four separate clips came
out of the table and fastened themselves over her ankles and wrists.
She was trapped! What a clever machine this table was and what thought
must have gone into this whole project! She never had liked that
Professor! Clever and nasty with it!
Emma surprised herself at the sound, duration and strength of that
first scream! It was enough to wake the dead. It was as well she was so
well secured or she would have bounced off the table like a rubber ball
dropped from a great height onto concrete.
“Sorry, Professor” she thought. “I am a bad girl. I will try to be
good! I promise!” But the shocks went on and on and on. Emma continued
to think nothing but good of the professor. Gradually the shocks eased
and unbearable agony was replaced by severe pain. Then the clips were
She was free to go outside after an hour she would long remember.
As she stepped out into the sunshine she looked at the sliding door
closing on that place of pain. Something told her she would be back -
many times - before she ceased to have displeasing thoughts. But she
This last thought was quite unforced and instinctive. The sensor must
have picked up on this, for next time she stripped off and lay in the
sun, there were no shocks and she fell into a deep sleep while the sun
continued to warm her.
Emma got through the next week with comparatively little pain. She
found herself barred from the food store one day for six hours for
cursing after stubbing her toe rather badly. And there were shocks from
time to time when she thought unkind things about the Professor. But
all this was nothing compared to what had happened to her on that awful
table in the Punishment Room. And the door to that Room had remained
Her good record had something to do with the weather which was
wonderful. For a couple of hours each day she had stretched out in the
wonderful sunshine and was beginning to be tanned all over. The rather
ungenerous diet was proving to be a blessing in disguise. She could see
that her body was already losing some of its flabbiness.
Because of the warm weather, she was spending less time each day on the
dynamo. Her living quarters needed no heating. She was still not
allowed hot showers for some reason and all the power needed was for
cooking and laundry purposes.
Since she was spending nearly all the time nude during the day, the
amount of laundry she needed to do was minimal.
Most of her day time was spent reading and for some of each evening she
was allowed into the Television Room. Her choice of channels was very
restricted, though. Mostly all she could watch was improving stuff like
drama and documentaries and the News. She dreaded the News - so boring!
One night she reacted Badly to the sight and sound of the Leader of the
Free World murdering the English language as only he knew how. She
muttered under her breath. “F*ck off you stupid, brain-dead arsehole!”
She had got a sharp shock for that and been ordered to go to bed.
Obviously the Professor considered criticism of George Dubya to be a
Bad Thought! She tried not to think about this at all. If the Prof
liked the stupid bastard, that was none of her affair! ( She got a mild
warning jolt for that!)
Her unspoken though emphatic disgust at the sight of her own Prime
Minister, the loathsome Tony, on the other hand, went unpunished. So
the Prof didn’t like him either! Good old Prof! He wasn’t all bad,
obviously a fine upstanding Tory like her father and the rest of her
Then it rained all day on her ninth day. Not only that, but the
temperature dropped. She left her clothes in her sleeping quarters and
went over to the dynamo to recharge the batteries. All would have been
well if she had merely attended to her task, which was easy enough for
her by now (she was developing great legs with all this exercise!).
But Emma was her own worst enemy, here as in her past life. The rain
got into her eyes and she swore. She swore to herself at first and then
out loud. It felt good to be using all these horrible words again after
nearly a week! It was then that she noticed the pedals becoming harder
to push. Much harder to push. And the red light was not due to come on
for an hour. Silly me, thought a repentant Emma.
“Sorry Professor. I am still a bad girl - I can see that.”
She pushed harder and harder and finally got up to the revolutions per
minute that she usually achieved. By the time the red light came on she
was wet as much from sweating as from the rain.
Weary after her efforts, she staggered back to her living quarters. The
Public Address system had bad news for the Bad Thinking Emma.
“Subject is excluded for twenty four hours. Subject will remain
standing to attention until further notice.”
“I deserve this. I have been naughty and must be punished. I am sorry.
I will try to be a good girl in future”
For an hour she repeated this like a mantra. At the end she was almost
getting to mean it! Then the PA system crackled into life.
“Subject will run around the perimeter thirty times.”
A burst of volts reminded her that there were worse things than getting
heart attacks from too much exercise. Namely, being fried alive!
When she had completed the thirty times tour of her extensive prison
compound she collapsed. Happily it was not raining by this time and she
sun came out. She slept and when she awoke it was dark. She looked up
at the stars - so many of them here, so far from all the light
pollution on the mainland. Instead of being filled with a sense of awe
at the majesty of Creation she felt miserable and lonely.
Being miserable and lonely were obviously verboten by the Professor. A
massive jerk of power reminded her of that! She tried to be cheerful.
“How lucky I am to be here, naked and freezing cold under the Heavens!
Thank you Professor!” Then she fell asleep again and when she woke it
She was allowed back into her accommodation at midday. Just as she was
dressing, for the weather was not really warm enough for nudity, the
hated PA system had more instructions for her.
“Subject will wear shorts only. This is for three weeks.”
Then she went out to walk over to the reading room and a few hours work.
“Subject will remain out of doors until further notice. Subject will
stand to attention, not moving.”
She wondered, after an hour of rigidly standing still, how the sensors
could possibly know if she moved just a teeny little bit to ease the
cramp a little. She decided to risk it. They knew!!!!!! OUCHH!!!!
“Subject will report to the Punishment Room.”
“Not that table again., I hope. Please, Professor. Nice Professor
Wedderburn, Sir. Please!”
Emma, shivering a little, took stock of her first three weeks. She had
been back to the Punishment Room for her third visit yesterday and her
bottom was still sore from her beating. The Professor had once told her
of a machine that beat people and she had laughed at the notion,
thinking it , as she had put it, “kinky”. After twelve applications of
a leather tawse she had not laughed any more. The memory of that
swishing sound, followed immediately by searing agony was still too
recent to allow her mind to dwell upon it at any length.
Her second visit, following her disobedience in failing to stand still
had been easier than either the first or the third. On that occasion
she had been made to step into a small chamber which had then closed
behind her, leaving her in a four feet square enclosure. The
confinement was bad enough but immediately on stepping in she noticed a
chill in the air. By the time she was let out a half hour later, the
place was below freezing.
She was not surprised that she had not caught a chill. Emma had never
been ill in her life, despite many duckings and soakings as a somewhat
wild tomboy. Viruses and bacteria seemed to be afraid of her! Either
that or they didn’t like her! That was why she was here! She was a very
strong girl - almost indestructible.
Another thing Emma had long known - ever since being severely caned for
misconduct involving alcohol - was that she had a very low pain
threshold. Part of being very clever, she had been told, was that one
was ultra sensitive to pain.
Although it was cooler today, Emma decided to leave off wearing her
shorts and underwear. It felt too sore to wear anything. As she was
about to step outside the address system sounded one of its diktats.
“Subject will be fully dressed.”
This meant just her bottom garments, of course. The ban on covering her
trunk had been extended by a month and Emma calculated that if she were
incredibly good she might get herself fully clothed in time to face the
So she pulled on her clothes and winced as she did so. It was very sore
down there. Then a few hours on the pedal machine. Then some reading.
No television today, though. The last programme she had seen had been a
quiz and some of the contestants had been so unutterably stupid that
she had thought Bad Thoughts about them.
“What a load of dickheads! BZZZZ!!! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!!OUCH!!”
She had also got a glimpse of the American President on her way out,
before the set switched off, and had reacted in her instinctively
hostile way. She wished she could grow to love him! She tried hard
enough - really she did! Nice George Dubya! Good man! But the machine
knew she was lying and gave her a nasty jolt anyway.
Now she was locked out of her sleeping and living quarters for six
hours and forbidden to lie down. She had not been instructed to stand
rigidly to attention this time but was not allowed to do more than flex
her body from time to time. Those who have ever had the privilege of
serving their country by being in the Armed Forces will recognise what
the military call “standing easy“.
Then another of her notorious outbursts. She was so bored. So utterly
BORED!! She was FUCKING WELL BORED OUT OF HER FUCKING SKULL!!!! She
screamed more abuse at the ever present sensors and stamped her pretty
foot in rage.
“Why do I get nothing to fucking do except watch crap on television and
pedal that fucking machine all fucking day.FUCK YOU PROF!! You scabby
old arsehole. ARSEHOLE!!”
“I must try to be patient” she said a few seconds later as she jumped
up and down, her feet being blistered each time they touched the
ground. This was her most sustained voltage yet. She must be full
enough of current to serve as a lighthouse beacon by now! And still it
continued and still she tried desperately to think Good Thoughts.
Finally the shocks ended as suddenly as they had begun. Emma resumed
her standing posture and tried desperately to be Positive in her
Thinking. And Good.
She knew she hadn’t heard the last of this, though.
But it was next day that the axe fell. She was due to do her laundry
today. Great excitement! Just as she put her remaining garments in the
machine and turned to get another pair of shorts and underwear from the
store, the door to the store slid shut. So that was that! Total nudity,
day and night and in all weathers. If only she could be told for how
long, but all the PA system said was that it was until further notice.
But at least she would have no more laundry, except for bedclothes. She
went to fetch them next day and was horrified to find that the bedding
compartment was also shut. She pedalled furiously every day after that,
not anxious to have the heating in her sleeping quarters less than
And her idea of having no more laundry was a mistake. She was told that
she would still have to take all the clothes out of the store and iron
them and wash them once a month. Never mind that she would never get to
wear them and that they would be worn out by all this unnecessary
cleaning! But she suppressed her anger as best she could. She just knew
that she had yet to sample the worst that the Punishment Room had to
offer! And she had a phenomenally low pain threshold to sample it with!
And then Emma’s luck took a turn for the better. The weather improved
and there was a month of wall to wall sunshine.
The only drawback was that the supply of water for ablutions was being
used up rather quickly and Emma was reduced to using only one quart
daily for washing, but she found this was enough to clean herself. Then
after six weeks there was a heavy storm which filled up the tank and
she was back to her daily showers.
Her studies went well, except that the book of Greek poetry was
forbidden her. The sensor picked up on its erotic content very quickly
and Emma was told to leave it alone in future. She got a bad shock for
the obvious enjoyment the reading of it gave her.
After her stint on the dynamo machine she was able to sunbathe for the
rest of the day until the sun finally went down and had developed a
totally, but totally, fantastic suntan by the end of three months, but
she knew that her mind was as depraved as ever.
Her periodic outbursts were getting worse and so were her punishments.
The long warm spell that ended the summer put her into a good mood and
she avoided punishments for much of that time, but at the back of her
mind was an awareness that she resented this all seeing machine and
could see it for what it was, an evil intrusion into the human psyche,
whose dangers to freedom of thought and speech were immense. She felt
that the Count, if he knew of all this, would order the project to be
And this brings us to the point at which we first met Emma, three
months into her stay on the island, naked, tanned and totally
Towards the end of the afternoon as the skies became dark and the hail
started to sting her bare body, she had her worst outburst yet,
storming and raging for thirty minutes, oblivious to the agony as the
current surged and kept her jumping and twitching. Finally the system
closed down and she raged and swore with impunity, gradually becoming
calmer. Finally she stopped and the horror of what she had done
gradually sank in.
Was she ever in for it now?
The Professor was watching on his monitor in the research station. He
frowned. This was not going the way he had hoped. Emma could be kept in
line with more and more painful punishments, but she kept bouncing back
every time, seemingly no better than before. He picked up the
microphone and read out a message to be relayed over the public address
“Subject to report to Punishment Room immediately.”
Emma heard the instruction and obeyed. Her recent defiance had drained
her strength for now. But she knew this experiment had failed as far as
she was concerned. They couldn’t reform her.
The Professor, though, had other ideas. He would never give up on Emma
and he still had the better part of three years to break her!
As the sliding door closed on her, Emma felt strangely calm,
considering that she was in for a very painful hour or two. There was
no way that her recent defiance could go unpunished. Whatever the worst
that this Room contained, she knew that she was about to experience it!
She was a little surprised, therefore, to be told to get onto the table
again. She had lived through an hour on this before and survived, not
that she was anxious for a repeat performance.
The current was stronger this time and instead of one hour, Emma was
kept pinioned and tormented for four before the clips loosened and she
could get down, trembling and sobbing with the continuing agony. Every
ounce of defiance had left her now. All she wanted was to be a Good
But the professor was not finished with her yet!
She was told to stand in front of the Spanking Machine. Instead of
twelve applications of the tawse, she endured forty eight and soon she
was screaming and sobbing, pleading vainly for mercy and promising to
be a Good Girl From Now Onwards.
If the Professor had left things at that, it might have been that some
permanent progress had been made in the reform of the obdurate Emma.
As the leather strap attacked her posterior, the memory of her abortion
came back with a stabbing agony that was even harder to bear than the
physical chastisement. Her screams died down as the pain of her past
took precedence over her present physical agony and she almost welcomed
the last dozen blows.
Released from the spanking machine, she felt totally penitent and
anxious to please. She really would be a Good Thinking Girl from now
on. She thanked the Professor for teaching her such a painful lesson
and vowed never to be deserving of returning to this room.
“Do we let her go now, Professor” asked his chief assistant as the
spanking came to its painful end with a trembling and seemingly
contrite Emma protesting her repentance and gingerly rubbing her tender
“No. This time she gets the full works. Half measures are no use with
her. She needs to be broken and broken completely. Prepare for the
Count Alexander was in his ancestral home in Russia as Emma went
through her most ghastly punishment to date. He had received her letter
from Sydney and was still trying to get over his loss. As soon as he
had read the letter he had hired private enquiry agents (the best) to
track her down and was ready at any time to fly out and plead with her
personally to reconsider. But Emma had covered her tracks well, with
the Professor’s help.
He could see how the poor young woman was eaten up with guilt, and he
shared her horror at what she had done. But the Count was older and
wiser than Emma. He knew that nobody is beyond redemption. If only he
could make her see this! The pain of seeing such a lovely person being
destroyed was far worse than that of losing her.
The icon that Emma had touched in the Blue Room was now in the rebuilt
monastery on the family’s former estate. He had flown back to Russia
especially to return the ancient and holy relic to the monastery
personally. It had been the only one of his great grandfather’s
treasures that the hard-headed and mercenary old rogue had not sold.
Even that died in the wool entrepreneurial capitalist had possessed
some sense of the holy.
The Abbot and the Count were walking in the grounds and talking.
Alexander had decided to stay for a while - a long while, maybe for
ever. Although he had been born and educated in England and had always
thought of himself as one hundred per cent British, the pull of his
ancestral country and in particular this part of it was far stronger
than he could ever have anticipated.
“We would always welcome you as one of our brotherhood, Count
Alexander. I see you are a troubled man and I would greatly like to
help. If you can find peace within these walls you are always free to
stay and become one of us. But I doubt that you are ready to turn your
back on the world. I feel there is work for you out there, my good
“Work, perhaps. Pain, certainly. At an age when I should be
contemplating a steady and pleasurable descent into irrevocable
bachelorhood, I have fallen in love, Holy Father! And not with a very
suitable girl at all. Apart from being less than half my age she has
known more of the world’s wickedness and added more to it than I would
have thought possible for one so young and beautiful. But I love her.”
“Think long and hard, Count, before you make up your mind. And I will
pray for you and for the young lady! Shall we both go inside and kneel
before the Holy Icon that now occupies its rightful place again, thanks
Back on the island, Emma was being told to pull down a folding table
which was flush with the furthest wall from the door. As she obeyed and
lay obediently down, she saw that four wires were connected to it. At
the end of each wire was a clip. Gulping, she realised what was in
store. Without even needing to be told she attached a clip to each
nipple and one to each of her vaginal lips. This last was not too easy,
for Emma was a very hairy woman these days. She spread her legs apart
and obediently put her arms beside her . Soon the clips snapped shut
and she was secured.
She wondered how long this was to last and whether she could survive
further and even more horrible pain. She hoped it would hurt even more
than all the other torments combined, for she was more than usually
full of self hatred at that moment.
“Go on, Prof! Give me the works! I deserve it and a lot more besides!
Then just let me die, please! Tell the Count how much I love him and
how sorry I am to have let him
Emma sat on the sandy beach and enjoyed what might well be the last
reasonably warm and sunny day of the year. When they had brought her
here a few months ago to begin her three years as a human guinea pig,
she had looked rather longingly at this beach, regretting that she
would never get to spend any time on it. And here she was!
It was just about warm enough for the still naked girl to lie in the
rather anaemic sun, but Emma was far too nervous to relax for long. The
helicopter, bearing an irate and frustrated Professor and his
assistants (or goons as Emma preferred to think of them) might be
zooming down on the island at any time. She was surprised it had taken
so long as it was.
She had been out of that hellish open air laboratory for three weeks
now and was amazed that they had still not come searching for her.
Ever since that dreadful experience with electrodes clipped to her most
sensitive parts and the three hours of continuous torment that the
already contrite and repentant girl had suffered, she had been
determined to escape - either that or die trying to.
After the Professor had judged her to have had enough for the time
being, she had continued to lie on the table despite the clips having
been released, too weak and too mentally shattered to move. Finally she
had got to her feet, replaced the folding table in its slot in the
wall, tidied up the Punishment Room and left, walking slowly and
unsteadily back to her sleeping quarters which, mercifully, were not
locked for a change. But she could have slept anywhere in the terrible
state she was in.
For three more days she had been ordered back to that awful room,
crying and pleading for mercy, assuring them in a piteous voice that
she would never be guilty of uncooperative behaviour again. Each time
they had put her through the same three punishments always ending up
with the metal clips and the current slicing into her womanhood.
As she lay on the beach and listened to the seagulls and the waves
beating on the shore and against all the treacherous rocks which
surrounded the island, she remembered again the horrible odour of
singed pubic hair and retched for the thousandth time. She tenderly
felt the affected parts and was relieved to see and feel that they were
healing up nicely at last.
It was a thunderstorm that had saved her. One night, as she waited for
the sleeping quarters to open for her, a bolt of lightning struck both
the island’s transformer and standby generator and the camp was without
current. Emma had scampered over the no longer electrified fence and
fled. In the morning a maintenance crew had arrived and repaired the
damage. But the idiots had not looked inside the compound and Emma’s
absence had not been noticed at the time.
She had seen the helicopter leave and made a rude sign at the departing
crew. For once no jolt of current punished her. It had felt wonderfully
liberating! She spent the next hour rehearsing all the foul words she
had ever learned and applying them all with a wealth of invention and
originality to the Professor and his team of assistants.
Unfortunately she had not had time to steal more food than she could
carry in one go. Because of a fear that the electricity might come on
at any moment, she had been afraid to go back for more. In one of the
huts used by the maintenance crews was enough in the way of food and
bottled water to last her a month or two with care - great care.
She was always a clever girl and had lived in the country a lot as a
child so she was not totally lost out here in the open. She knew what
berries were safe to eat and what were not. She managed to catch a few
fish after rigging up a makeshift line. She was quite a good survivor.
The only real worry for her was her lack of clothing. In a few weeks
this would be a fatal state to be in. Or, if not fatal, then certainly
not too comfortable.
But it was still a lot more comfortable than walking on that wire
covered ground being lit up like a traffic beacon every time she
exercised her God given right to free expression and independent
thought! She’d far sooner freeze to death out here, a free woman, than
go back to have the Professor play a few more of his little tricks on
her! But it puzzled her that he hadn’t come to look for her.
And then she made an intelligent deduction. The Professor was saving
himself the trouble of a possibly bumpy helicopter ride in the
worsening weather and waiting for her to give herself up and go back to
the entrance and push open the one way gate. Well, he’d have a very
Meantime, the sea looked VERY inviting! She stared longingly at the
blue water and imagined how lovely it would be to swim in it. Of
course, it would be pretty cold by this time, but this island was smack
in the path of the Gulf Stream! The Gulf Stream carried warm waters all
the way from the Caribbean to Northern Europe in general and the
British Isles in particular - or so the teachers at her Very Good
School had informed her and her Daddy had paid good money and plenty of
it to send her there! She finally decided to try it. Tomorrow might be
stormy again; this was most likely her last chance before winter set in
and she spent months cowering away in some cave hoping to survive.
Gulf Stream or no Gulf Stream, the water was bloody cold. Emma, still
unreformed and morally polluted, expressed herself more forcibly,
taking the name of her Saviour in vain as she pronounced the sea to be
FUCKING COLD!! But she persevered and soon became sufficiently adjusted
to enjoy what had once been her favourite pastime.
It all reminded her of a holiday she had spent with her parents, the
summer before she went up to Oxford and met that fatally attractive
young man. She had spent pretty well all day in the waters of the
Aegean for three long and delightful weeks while her parents lay and
snoozed on the beach. Being here, despite the uncomfortably perceptible
difference in water temperature, seemed to bring those days back. Days
of comparative innocence - lost innocence!
She hated getting out of the water, but the cold finally made it
imperative that she do so. When she did at last stagger, pleasurably
exhausted, out of the sea, she was trembling all over and her teeth
were, literally, chattering. Even so, she had not felt so happy in all
the months since that dreadful day when she had consented to losing her
baby, just to please her lover, who had then walked out on her anyway.
But thinking again of that episode brought all her unhappiness back to
her and she looked at the beach, so like the one she had swum from on
that last holiday. She pictured her parents, dozing as she came of the
sea. It was almost as if they were there.
“I wonder if Daddy will ever forgive me! Oh, I love you so much,
She knew her mother partly forgave her and the two still kept in touch,
spasmodically. But she had always been particularly close to her father
and his rejection of her was just about the worst thing that had ever
happened to her - apart from the abortion, that is.
But more immediate matters needed her attention right now. Becoming dry
and warm without the aid of a towel came first. Getting on with a bit
of work seemed like a good idea and she went over to the huts.
These buildings were fairly lightly constructed and Emma had been
trying with some success to take them apart. It would not be a good
idea to make one of them her permanent home - far too easy for them to
swoop in and recapture her. After an hour of frenziedly bashing way at
them with a large rock she was quite warm again and had collected quite
a few pieces of timber which she took around to the other side of her
Some of the wood she intended to construct into a sort of shelter for
the winter, if only she could find somewhere to build where it could
not be seen from the air. The rest would do for burning, as long as she
could find a means of lighting them.
As for finally getting back to civilisation, she had little or no idea.
This island couldn’t be that far from inhabited land. She knew there
were no islands in this area more than a mile or two away from the main
group, called the Scilly Islands. Some fisherman would be bound to come
close enough for her to attract his attention. What a great day it
would be for him, whoever he was - being hailed by a naked and lovely
young thing like her! Unless he was queer, of course!
“Is that your daughter, Sir Alan?”
Count Alexander, having taken the Abbot’s advice and returned to his
responsibilities in England, had been invited to a reception in
connection with an Anglo-Russian friendship committee at the house of
one of the MPs who belonged to the said committee. The MP in question
was Sir Alan Henderson. As soon as he had heard the man’s name,
Alexander had been reminded of his beloved and vanished Emma. And now
that he was Sir Alan’s guest he saw her picture on a sideboard in one
of the reception rooms.
It was a younger and happier Emma whose schoolgirl face smiled out at
him. But it was certainly the same delightful if foul-mouthed and well
plastered woman he had rescued from a night in a police cell.
Sir Alan nodded and Lady Henderson looked sad, dabbing at her eyes with
“Yes. That’s our Emma. I threw her out a couple of years ago and have
little idea what has happened to her. She disgraced us all and chucked
away what could have been a brilliant career. The last I heard she was
employed as a “model” And we all know what that means!”
“I have seen her recently. I know all about her rather lurid recent
past and it makes no difference as far as my estimation of her is
concerned. You see, I happen to love your daughter very much. She is a
fine young woman under that hard exterior, but she made one terrible
mistake and won’t forgive herself for it. I want to help her and I know
I could, but she disappeared off the face of the earth a few months
ago. I should have realised she was your daughter, I suppose, but she
never said you were an MP - just referred to you as ‘Daddy‘”.
Sir Alan looked uncomfortable at this. He still loved his only child as
much as ever, but his upbringing had been strict and his sense of right
and wrong had been beaten into him as a boy. It was hard to forgive in
others what he would never forgive in himself. Like too many others,
Sir Alan had yet to discover that it is only by forgiving oneself that
true redemption is possible.
“You might try Ferguson if you want to find her. If anyone knows where
she is, he will. He’s our family lawyer. If she needed any legal work
done I daresay she’d go to him. He was always fond of her. If you hear
anything, let me know.”
And Sir Alan dismissed all further unwelcome thoughts about Emma from
his mind. But Lady Henderson accompanied the Count to the door at the
end of the evening.
“Please keep me in touch with whatever you find out, Alexander! I
haven’t heard from her for over four months and that really is unusual.
I was on the point of going to Missing Persons about her. I’m sure she
wouldn’t have remained in Australia for this long. I’m her mother and I
know her too well - she wouldn’t stay away from England for more than a
couple of months. Not her.”
But the Count did not get to see Mr Ferguson for two months. Mr
Ferguson had been knocked down by an errant motorist and was in a coma
for weeks. As soon as he was fit to receive visitors Alexander went to
“It’s holding up all our work, Professor. Your security at that
outstation sucks. We want his invention on the production line on time.
We may have to do without all your research. Maybe transfer the project
to the States, where it should have been from the beginning any way!”
One of the Professor’s transatlantic clients was remonstrating with the
harassed scientist over lunch at the Professor’s club. He cursed Emma
under his breath. If he ever got his hands on that foul mouthed and
insolent little bitch…! Maybe a trip to the island by helicopter,
risking going to a horrible watery grave was going to be essential,
“May I remind you that my chief has all the rights, even if I have done
the work? And he would take a lot of persuading. “
“Maybe I’d better talk to this Count fellow, then.”
The Professor tried to hide his panic. Alexander must know nothing
until he had completed the experiment, given Emma a lot more reasons to
regret the trouble she had caused him, and removed all evidence from
the island of what this latest project of his consisted of . And all
this would have to wait until Spring. He put on one of his most
decisive expressions and tried to reassure the American official.
“Before the escape we were well ahead of schedule.”
(He sarcastically gave the word its American pronunciation and his
visitor, for a wonder, was intelligent enough to notice this. He was
clearly not amused!). The Professor continued.
“We have ironed out almost all the technical problems. It was merely
the readjustment of the subject, Miss Henderson, that was giving us a
little trouble. I’m sure your people can sort that out for themselves.
It’s merely the correct balance of reward and punishment. You’ve seen
how effective the apparatus is in detecting thought patterns. All we
need now is to perfect the ability of the device to pick up thoughts
from several people at once and discriminate between them all, and we
are three quarters of the way there as far as that is concerned. We
have another experiment going on in Scotland.”
“Hell, Professor! You don’t mean you’ve got a bunch of other young
lovelies going through all this and possibly escaping, scampering bare
ass naked over the heather!”
The Professor laughed mirthlessly.
“No, my dear fellow! No possibility of that! All the subjects are
unaware of what is happening. We are monitoring a conference of
municipal accountants in Aberdeen. And there’s no heather for miles
around, except maybe sprigs of it being sold by so-called gypsies to
gullible idiots! The meeting is into its third day now and the results
are excellent. The things some of those chaps have been thinking about
each other! Quite an opportunity for blackmail if I weren’t a man of
Some principles, thought the visitor! He had just been watching footage
of poor Emma’s tribulations and it hadn’t been pretty. It amazed him
that progress had been so abysmally slow. He’d have been a very
reformed character indeed after a tenth of what Emma had suffered!
Whenever it looked as if the young woman was finally adjusting she
would regress. The American decided, finally, that the regime was far
too heavily weighted on the side of punishments. Emma had, far from
being intimidated by them, reacted by becoming more defiant each time
the pain was stepped up. Anger had fought against fear and won in her
case and the Professor had sorely misjudged her. When his colleagues on
the secret and unauthorised Homeland Security committee set up their
own readjustment programme across the Pond, this would be attended to.
“OK Professor! We’ll play it your way until April next year. Then we
ship the equipment to the States and you can be in charge over there.
Just keep your precious Count in the dark until then. From what you
say, that won’t be hard. He sounds like the ideal chief!”
“Yes! I couldn’t have asked for a better one. He leaves everything to
me and gets more and more otherworldly by the day! What his great
grandfather would think, I can’t even begin to imagine. The old boy
must be rotating in his grave at a great rate!”
The two parted amicably enough for now. But the Professor was a worried
man as he drove down to the West Country. Very worried. Curse that girl!
Just outside Exeter the skies started to become blacker. By the time he
had reached the research station it was snowing heavily. He switched on
the radio to get the latest forecast. It was grim. He heard that the
Scillies had received their first heavy fall for several years. So Emma
would be coming through the gate at any time. Her rebelliousness
wouldn’t last long in three feet of snow!
Emma, now well adapted to her role as the Sexy Cave Woman, sat as close
to the fire as she could. On the other side of the blaze was Emmelina
together with her three kittens. The kittens loved to play with Emma
and a wary Emmelina allowed them to. But she herself was still very
nervous indeed of beautiful hairy Emma. She might be hairy for a human
but was still much too smooth for a cat.
The naked escapee had first seen the wild eyed cat a few weeks before
the first frost. Emma had always loved cats and was delighted at first
to see the black creature staring at her from a safe distance. But her
efforts at making friends had got nowhere until she lit the first fire
and went off to get food from the store and see what fish had been
On returning she had seen the cat and her three surviving kittens in
the cave and enjoying the heat. She had crept slowly around them so as
not to scare them off. By this time, four weeks later, Emma was warily
accepted by the mother and loved by her delightful brood.
Emma had been lucky enough to find quite a lot of very useful things in
the remains of the huts that she had so painstakingly demolished. Among
the treasure trove was a box of matches, a pistol and some ammunition.
Nothing that she could fashion into even the most basic garment, though.
The nervous girl had managed to load the gun, after a few hairy
moments, during one of which the weapon had gone off. Luckily she had
been pointing it away from her. She was not anxious to use it too
often, although she had been very tempted by the sight of a rabbit and
the poor beast had given her several tasty meals. She had tried to
fashion the skin into some kind of clothing but given up in disgust. In
any case, she quite relished being naked on her island by this time. It
was a lot easier than she had thought it would be to start with, and as
the Professor had said months ago, it was milder here than the rest of
the country. Windy, maybe. But mild.
She still managed a few minutes in the water every morning, even though
it was getting colder and colder every time she plunged in and in spite
of the fact that it was wreaking havoc on her hair, which was down to
her waist by now and as matted and unkempt as that of the most fearsome
story book savage. If only Alex could see her now!
Pixie, Sammy and Bobby came away from Emmelina, who took advantage of
the respite to fall asleep, and each in turn climbed on to Emma’s long
and comfortable thighs. She squealed as Pixie stuck her tiny claws into
her but made no effort to remove the sweetest of the three.
She picked up Bobby and kissed him. Then she fell asleep herself. It
had been a busy day for her. The fire needed to be kept going all day
and all night just at present. She would leave as soon as it was light
and scout the island for wood. Fortunately there was plenty of it,
although she was having to go further afield each day to find the twigs
and small branches that she preferred. It was distasteful to her, as
well as hard, to uproot whole trees even small ones.
The supply of nuts and berries was also worrying her. Carbohydrate and
Vitamin C were essential to life. She had learnt that much between
daydreams in Science classes! She could already sense that her skin was
not what it should be and this was her main worry these days. The
stores of food in the huts were getting low and she needed a miracle if
she were to get through the next months.
The next day she found the Crate. She scoured the beaches every day for
driftwood and was always on the lookout for something more exciting.
The Crate was the most exciting find so far. It took her most of the
day to open it, causing her to utter many imprecations as she cut her
leg open when she manhandled it rather clumsily.
It occurred to her that these were the first foul words she had uttered
or thought in weeks! She looked down and saw that she had caused no
serious damage to her shapely, if dirty and incredibly hairy leg and
continued getting the thing open. It was full of rations. Most likely
an emergency supply for a lighthouse that had fallen overboard and been
washed ashore, somehow not being smashed into fragments against the
rocks. There was enough fruit juice and vitamin supplement to last her
for a year, as well as many bars of chocolate. She gave a prayer of
thanks and hauled her find back to the cave.
But this was very definitely not the way she wished to spend the rest
of her life. And the New Year, a week or two later, was not the
happiest of occasions for her. She earnestly hoped she would not be
seeing in next year in this place. All she wanted was to have time to
tame and make friends with Emmelina and leave with her four new
companions for warmer and more civilised surroundings! And Emmelina was
coming round by degrees. Emma was very occasionally allowed to touch
her by this time, although it was still far from safe to do so, as
several deep scratches testified.
“I think you had better leave, Count Dobrynin. He’s still too weak to
cope with questions. You’ve upset him for some reason.” said the Sister.
Alexander sighed. His search for Emma was getting nowhere and for some
reason he was deeply worried. Instinct told him she was in danger. But
as soon as he had mentioned her name to the recovering Ferguson, that
gentleman had become agitated and the watchful Sister had immediately
Three weeks later he had a call from the hospital to say that Mr
Ferguson was much better and wanted to see him to talk about Emma.
“He is very sorry to have been so difficult the other time. He says he
has something very important for you.“
But the Count was beginning to have troubles of his own by this time.
He arranged to visit Ferguson next day, but this was not to happen.
Three days earlier he had been for a walk over the nearby Hampstead
Heath, ending with a quick visit to the Iveagh Collection at Kenwood
House. He was foolish enough not to wear his greatcoat and it was a raw
and foggy day. And the Count had a history of chest ailments.
He spent a few minutes contemplating the Vermeer and went home. But he
felt ill as soon as he got inside the house and next day he had a
dreadful cough. By the time Ferguson’s message arrived, Alexander was
getting worse and next morning when he should have been visiting the
lawyer he was on his way to hospital, but not the one Ferguson was in.
Harrison had come to wake him and found the Count delirious. Pneumonia
was diagnosed and the doctor insisted that he be sent to Hospital
without delay. It was touch and go with the Count for two weeks and a
further four before he was well enough to go home, and even then he was
warned to take life very easily for a couple more months.
“You’ve had a rough time, Alex!” said the doctor. “No work for you just
yet awhile! Never mind! The Professor and his colleagues will keep the
show on the road!”
If Alexander had known just what kind of a show the Professor and his
goons were running he would have immediately disobeyed his doctor’s
orders, but he was unaware of what was going on and the dire conditions
that poor Emma was living in.
Even so, three weeks after being discharged and still a little wheezy,
he went to call on Mr Ferguson, now back at work after his brush with
While the Professor was watching the monitor for signs of Emma’s
obedient return to a life of readjustment and Mr Ferguson and the Count
were beginning to go through their respective misfortunes, Emma was
curled up in front of her fire. She had kept the snow clear from the
mouth of the cave, using a rusty old shovel that had come from one of
the, by this time , totally demolished huts. And now she was resting.
She had the three kittens clasped to her breasts and was thinking how
sad it was that they didn’t realise how lucky they were! All three were
fast asleep, as was Emmelina, who had reluctantly concluded that the
young woman was harmless enough and very warm to be near. She was
sleeping on Emma’s thigh, enfolded by her pretty if hairy legs.
Emma might think her legs utterly gross by this time, with their thick
covering of fine golden down, but Emmelina thought differently.
“Call this fur?” she thought crossly. “How can a pathetic covering like
that keep her warm!”
But it was nice and soft, was Emma’s thigh. Emmelina, despite her
suspicious and deeply pessimistic nature, began to feel contentment
steal over her. She purred, but Emma didn’t hear this. Emma was fast
It had been a busy day. Snow or no snow, wood had to be collected and
the fire kept well lit at all times. And Emma wouldn’t keep fresh food
in the cave. Those cats had a way of finding their way to it no matter
where she put it. So she had found a place to put it under a rock where
they couldn’t get at it.
All five had just feasted on a couple of mackerel that the industrious
girl had caught the day before. She had an awful job keeping the greedy
creatures away from it while it was being cooked. They might like raw
fish but Emma knew it was bad for them, so they had to be patient! Her
own family pet had been very ill from eating raw fish and the vet had
been adamant that they must never feed it to her again.
She decided that until this snow was over, she would stay inside as
much as possible and use the canned food from the crate and what was
left of the store from the maintenance men’s hut. Emmelina hated this
stuff , getting very cross when it was put before her, and Emma wasn’t
too enthusiastic herself, but needs must and all that!
The snow lay on the ground for three long weeks, but there were no more
falls after the third day, so Emma had no more clearance to do after
that. She cleared a path to the beach where she kept her fishing line
so that this daily trip was kinder on her feet, although they were
pretty well used to the roughest of rough treatment. Not even the
sharpest stone cut her now.
One morning Emma had time on her hands for a change and she studied her
toes closely. She decided that the first item on the agenda if and when
she got back to Civilisation, was a pedicure. Just as she was trying to
decide on what colour nail varnish to ask for, Emmelina came up behind
her and startled her. It was nice that they were such good friends at
last, but she wished the creature would realise than human skin,
especially that of a delicate and lovely nineteen year old female, is
very sensitive to clawing!
She picked her up and went back to the cave, followed by the three
kittens who were becoming very good hunters already. If Emma couldn’t
get them all away fairly soon they’d go wild again and develop bad
After the snow had all gone the weather gradually improved and soon it
was Spring. By mid March the hardy Emma could sit on the beach for
hours at a time and swim until she was too tired to swim any more.
Then what she had once dreaded and now longed for happened. A
helicopter was on its way. But Emma wasn’t afraid. She had the pistol
and was ready for the Professor and his goons this time!
She couldn’t believe it when the helicopter took off an hour later and
flew back the way it had just come. What were they playing at?
Obviously they had left some people behind and would be back in a
couple of days in the hope that Emma would have been fooled into
thinking she was alone again and captured.
She decided to anticipate them and set off for the horrible compound
which she had been nowhere near since her escape.
Emma found no signs of life in the compound when she first went to
inspect it from the outside. But she felt sure someone was there, all
Then two days after the mysterious appearance and disappearance of the
helicopter she was returning from a successful fishing expedition when
she heard someone coming. Hurrying back to the cave the picked up the
gun and went to where the sounds had come from.
She was good at making little noise by this time and soon she had crept
to within a few yards of whoever it was.
Apart from killing one poor little bunny rabbit she had never used the
gun. With some nervousness she undid the safety catch. Casting about in
her mind for something to say, she discarded “Go ahead, punk, make my
day” and “Feeling lucky, punk?” in favour of. “Freeze! Put your hands
up and turn around - and slowly!”
The intruder did as he was told. As he turned to face Emma, the naked
girl dropped her arm. Then she threw the gun away and ran towards him.
“Oh, my darling! Thank Heaven you’ve come for me!” Emma was weeping as
she ran to Alexander and threw her arms around him. The two embraced
and remained in this happy position for some time. Then the Count
stepped back and started to take off his coat, clearly meaning to give
it to the naked girl so that she might cover herself for the first time
He was startled at the sharp way his beloved snapped at him!
“Put that back on at once! NOW, Alex! You’ll catch a chill. Don’t worry
about me! I was built to last! And if I got through the winter, I’ll
certainly survive another hour or two! But you, you poor man. You look
terrible. You must take care of yourself. Let’s get you somewhere nice
and warm! I take it the Experiment is over and the current switched
The Count coughed, showing that he was still far from recovered.
“Yes, my darling Emma. The Experiment is over and the Professor no
longer works for me - not since your worried lawyer, Ferguson spilled
the beans a day or two ago. He’ll be lucky to come out of this a free
man, although I might well be in trouble, too. It was my company, after
all, that put you through all that misery!”
“Well, I won’t give evidence against you or cooperate with any
prosecution! After all said and done, I did volunteer for this
Emma accompanied him back to her former sleeping quarters, got bedding
out of the store and made him comfortable. He did not complain. He
really had overdone things, contrary to doctor’s orders. After she had
got something for him to eat, he fell asleep. It had been very unwise
of him to fly over to the island and spend a night here in a far from
Emma went over to the dynamo and recharged the batteries for the
heating unit. She sat by the bed watching him sleep for some hours
until, finally, he woke up.
“When does the helicopter come back, sweetheart?”
“As soon as I ask them. Why are you still undressed, Emma? Don’t get me
wrong - you look lovely! But it makes me shiver just to look at you.
There’s plenty of clothing over in the store. Go and put something on.”
Emma shook her head.
“I’d like to stay like this a bit longer, if you don’t mind. Until we
hear the ‘copter - then I promise to get myself looking decent, apart
from the hair which is a disaster that will cost me a fortune to put
right! Correction! Cost YOU a fortune! Could you tell them to bring a
cat basket with them when they come back? I’ve made a few friends while
I have been here and they either come back with me or I stay here with
them! Now I’d better go and fetch my dear furry friends. You’ll love
them. You’d better!”
An hour later, Alexander, a dressed though still barefoot Emma, three
excited and delighted kittens and a furious spitting and hissing
Emmelina were on their way back to civilisation and a pedicure.
Emmelina yowled, growled, hissed and spat all the way to Exeter
airport. Emma had previously had no idea that cats could be so
versatile when it came to expressing themselves. She was hugely
impressed , but thought it a terrible example to be setting her three
She vowed there and then never to allow bad language to assail the ears
and pollute the growing minds of any children she might have if she
were to be blessed with any after destroying her first one. There
again, her parents had never used bad words in front of her. She had
had to work it out for herself, and a very successful job she had made
At Exeter they called out a vet, who sedated the furious animal, joking
that he’d felt safer treating a sick alligator at London Zoo. The party
had a quiet drive in the Count’s Rolls back to London.
Alexander went straight to bed as soon as they got him home and the
doctor was called.
“You disobeyed me, Alex! Very foolish! Mind you, when I see who you
brought back from that island, I can’t say I blame you. She’s such a
darling. Just what this house needs.”
Thanks to Harrison and Emma who made sure he was looked after round the
clock, he was able to get up after a week and improved steadily
Before Emma Henderson became Emma Dobrynina there was a bit of
unfinished business. She was determined that no one would give her away
except her beloved father and it took the combined effort of her
mother, the Count and a clearly transformed Emma to bring him round.
As soon as Alexander was better Emma made her long awaited visit to the
beauty parlour, emerging with all traces of the naked savage of the
past few months expunged for ever. The Count regretted this in a way.
He had been quite taken with that first sighting of his beloved after
so many months, her long hair unkempt and tangled and her body bronzed
and weathered by the long exposure. But it was time to move on.
Pixie, Bobby and Sammy were delighted with the large house and
extensive gardens. Emmelina took longer to adjust but even she was
finally to achieve a sort of wary contentment, although Emma was the
only one who could get near her for months until she finally came to
accept the rest of the household.
The Professor escaped without being prosecuted, as did his American
counterpart. The whole project was scrapped and the authorities on both
side of the Atlantic agreed that the less information about the mind
reading invention that got into the public domain the better.
There was trouble over the Scottish accountants when they heard how
their Conference had been used, but a handsome payment satisfied them.
There are few Scotsmen who would have refused such a generous offer and
positively no Scottish accountants.
As for the Professor he was never able to forgive Emma even though she
very generously forgave him. Although he tried to avoid such
publications as featured her activities, it was not possible to do so
First it was the Wedding!A Radiant, Smiling Emma - the bride of the
year. Then the honeymoon. Emma, entrancing in a bikini, Emma at the
ball putting all the other ladies totally in the shade, Emma topless,
oozing a healthy sexuality and sporting a variety of Daring Thongs.
There was even a photo of her nude, although it was so blurred that it
could have been any fair haired lady between eighteen and fifty!
Then the Professor was periodically affronted by accounts of Emma’s
frequent pregnancies and the regular delivery of fine healthy children,
five in number before the couple went to a lecture on the World
Population Explosion and called a halt to their procreative activities.
The last straw came when he was at the dentist’s leafing through a copy
of “Hello” magazine. There was that cursed woman again! This time, she
was not only surrounded by her brood of disgustingly happy little
brats, with her arm on her husband’s shoulder and smiling. She was
always smiling. Didn’t she ever lose that smile?
What finally pushed Professor Wedderburn over the edge was the
inclusion in this particular photograph of the family’s collection of
four cats. He recognised the oldest straight away. It was Gertrude! He
had taken Gertrude as a kitten to the island three years before the
Experiment when the place was still being used for above board and
legitimate research. It had been her job to keep the mice down.
From the first, Gertrude had been an unpleasant, vicious creature,
spiteful and with very sharp claws which she was never afraid to use on
the Professor, who was greatly relieved when the animal he had come to
regard as The Cat From Hell had taken herself off one fine day and
never returned. And here the creature was, being stroked by Emma and
looking adoringly up at her.
He read the caption carefully. Emmelina, Bobby, Pixie and Sammy. To
think that a depraved slut who could dream up such idiotic names had
been the cause of his ruin!
Next day the Professor applied to join an enclosed monastic order and
was never heard of again. For the rest of his life he heard no more of
Emma and was thus able to attain a certain peace of mind.
So, up to a point, we can say that all lived happily ever after.