The Compound: Ch. 1
The Customer
by Dr. Phil

The small white plane was heard before it was seen. Bernard Renault glanced at his watch as he stepped outside and gazed up into the sky. It was right on time, as usual. As the engine's whirring grew louder the plane suddenly appeared over the tall trees to the west. It was a small sea plane and its appearance greatly pleased the plump, well-dressed man who watched it begin its descent to the large lake next to the compound.

Its presence meant one thing: a customer.

Mssr. Renault's compound was located in the tiny country of Duri, in West Africa. For all intent and purposes, the compound WAS the country of Duri. Duri was an independent nation of approximately five hundred square miles nestled between the Ivory Coast and Upper Volta, about three hundred fifty miles inland of the Atlantic ocean in a region of lush vegetation. Duri was a very wealthy country. The "contributions" which it made to the governments of both of its neighbors assured its peaceful existence along with its absolute privacy. Nobody came to Duri without an invitation from Mssr. Renault. Its only access was via the private sea plane which it dispatched to a small airfield near Abidjan, on the coast. The closest settlement to the compound was nearly one hundred miles away through dense jungle. Duri's only business was a very expensive and a very private one. For an enormous price, wealthy customers could arrange for a very special revenge for those who had the stupidity to cross them...

Seated next to the pilot in the plane which was just now skimming the lake and powering down was a young woman who had corresponded with Mssr. Renault about purchasing his services for just such a case. Her name was Laura Buckley, and she was a fabulously wealthy young heiress from England. Both of her parents had died when she was only seventeen years old. Now, four years later, she had become the sole heiress to a fortune well in excess of fifty million pounds. Her twenty-first birthday, celebrated three months ago, had been the occasion of her official inheritance.

All of her life Laura had been used to getting anything she wanted. She was noted for a quick temper and her near-consuming passion for "getting even" with anyone who crossed her path. The four years she had spent waiting to claim her inheritance had seemed like forever to her. She was appalled at not having immediate access to all of the money and was prone to fits of intense anger towards anyone who prevented her from doing what she wanted.

Now, three months after coming of age, she had already started paying off a few debts. She knew what money was for and how to use it. She had seen to it that an array of bankers, lawyers, even salespeople at the fashionable stores she shopped in, had been all sacked. And she had made sure they all knew it was SHE who had done it to them, gloating at the misery it had caused them. One of her favorite moments was when one of the lawyers responsible for handling her trust fund came to her begging her not to have him fired. He had a family with small children and he claimed he was only doing his job when he had restricted access to her funds during the past year. Laura sat imperiously as the man asked for his job back then simply laughed in his face! She promised him he'd never work in a major legal office in England again.

A month ago she had contacted Mssr. Renault and inquired about purchasing his very special services with respect to a young woman who had made her life especially difficult for a number of years. When Renault told her that his services were quite expensive, she merely laughed and assured him that in this particular case she was prepared to go all out. Money was no object. That statement had earned her an invitation to the Compound on Duri.

As the twin propellers stopped turning, the plane was pulled close to a small dock and secured. A worker opened the door and reached out a hand to help Miss Buckley from the passenger seat. Renault reflexively raised an appreciative eyebrow at the long legs that swung out from the seat. As Laura stepped onto the dock, the worker handed her a glass of champagne then went to fetch her bags.

"Welcome to Duri, Miss Buckley!" Renault beamed as he walked up to the trim redhead and offered her his hand.

"I hope this place is as good as you told me on the phone, Renault," she countered, ignoring his hand and looking around. "It looks like the middle of nowhere. Somehow I expected... more." She sniffed and took a sip from her glass.

"I assure you, this IS the middle of nowhere, Miss Buckley." Renault countered. "This assures our privacy and our complete non-interference from the outside world. We are virtually cut off from everything here. Most countries don't even know we exist, and those that do leave us alone. We are an independent nation. We make and enforce our own laws. I assure you that we are in a position to even EXCEED your own expectations in our business matter."

"Where do I stay?" she asked, somewhat satisfied with his answer.

"We have a special guest house to the west of the compound. I'm sure you will be quite comfortable. As soon as you have settled in and rested please join me for lunch on the veranda. I will be happy to explain how things work here and take you on a little tour of our facilities."

Laura's own eyebrow lifted slightly at this. She had been looking forward to a 'tour' of this very special place ever since she first found out about its existence. She let the large man who was carrying her bags lead her to her quarters. As they walked she was startled to hear what sounded like a moan off in the distance. Her ears perked, listening as she walked. There it was again! It sounded human, and oh so pathetic. Female. She glanced around trying to find its source but couldn't locate it before they arrived at the guest house. She decided that she'd only need a short rest before joining Renault for lunch and asked the servant to inform him that she'd be meeting with him in a half hour.

Twenty-five minutes later Laura was stepping outside and heading towards the main building. She had quickly showered in her luxurious bathroom, then slipped on a pair of tan hiking shorts and a safari shirt. She also wore socks and a pair of hiking boots, as she didn't know what might be crawling or slithering around in a place like this, and she didn't relish finding out.

Renault was already seated and smiled as she approached. She swayed her hips confidently as she walked, looking gorgeous in the short, tight hiking shorts she had intentionally selected. She kept her ears tuned for the moaning sound she had heard earlier, but was disappointed to hear nothing but the sounds of birds and the wind in the trees. Oh well, soon enough, she thought as she climbed up the three small steps and stood on the veranda.

"You look stunning, Miss Buckley!" he exclaimed, gazing appreciatively at her trim form. "Do you mind if I call you Laura?"

"Only my friends call me Laura," she sneered at him. "This is a business relationship Renault. I prefer Ms. Buckley, if you please."

Renault cleared his throat and moved his hands apologetically.

"As you wish Mizz Buckley" he said with a very slight emphasis on the 'Mizz'. She was a bitch alright, he noted as he watched her sit and then deliberately cross her legs. He noticed that she was intentionally giving him a good leg shot as she leaned back and picked up her glass of champagne. Oh well, it was her money that mattered. He inwardly felt a little sorry for whomever the poor unfortunate was who had crossed her and prompted her need for his special services.

"I hope you found your quarters acceptable, Ms. Buckley?" As she nodded he picked up his own glass and continued.

"A little history of Duri is in order, Ms. Buckley. As you no doubt already know, we operate this compound as a service to those who can afford us. We've been in operation for a dozen years. Everything we do here is legal, you see. We are a sovereign nation. I bought the country from the last chief twelve years ago and since then we have maintained, shall we say, very good relations with both of our larger neighbors. They, in turn, assure us of our privacy and leave us alone.

"The law here, Ms. Buckley, is MY law. I make the rules. I am the 'king' if you will. Whatever I say here goes and there is no appeal. Once sentenced to the Compound, escape is impossible. Even if one knew where to go they would have nearly a hundred miles of dense jungle to cross. Only two inmates have ever tried it over the years. One of them died horribly in the jungle, but the other was caught and returned. Believe me, after seeing her punishment nobody has ever tried again."

Laura tried to look casual, but inside she was intensely interested in this historical narrative. No escape was possible... she felt comfort in hearing those words.

"Another thing you may or may not know is that we have two Compounds in Duri. They're about ten miles apart and separated by a dirt road. The second Compound is for our male inmates, while this one here is for our female inmates. The methods employed are similar, yet different, for each special circumstance. If time permits perhaps you might enjoy a tour of both facilities?"

"No thanks, Renault. What you do, or have done to, those poor bastards in the other facility is your own business. I'm interested in this one right here. I'm anxious to see if you can come through on your lofty promises." Before he could comment, she cut him off and continued: "I don't just want revenge, Renault, I want SATISFACTION... "

She practically hissed the last word.

"I want the best - or actually the worst - that money can buy for a certain bitch who needs a lesson that neither she nor anyone else will ever forget. I could have her killed, but that would be too simple. Much too easy. I want her very much alive and punished to the extremes that you or I or anyone could imagine. Then I want her taken beyond-- "

Renault cleared his throat to interrupt. "Yes, you mentioned that it was a woman that you wanted to commit to our care. I am prepared to take you on a tour of our facility so you can see for yourself what she will be in store for. I'm sure you will approve. Before we do that, however, we have to talk about money."

"I told you, money is no object," she stared him right in the eye, challenging him.

"Still," he continued, "there are rates for various services. We charge one hundred thousand pounds just for starters. That covers the cost of picking her up and arranging for her to be delivered here. We are very professional. Nobody will have the slightest clue where she has disappeared to. She, herself, will be unable to tell exactly where it is that she has been taken. After that we contract for a specified period of time and a particular intensity of punishment. Our minimum period of confinement is 6 months. You can contract for a year, two years, even five years, but the cost is five hundred thousand pounds per year and the payment is up front. You get to choose the types of punishments to which she will be subjected. Once the money has been delivered we will handle the rest.

"One important item, Ms. Buckley - once we start, we will complete the contract, no matter what. We have never reneged on a contract and we never ever will. Even if you were to have a change of heart and ask to cancel a one year sentence after only six months, we will carry through for the FULL year. It's very important that you understand this in advance."

Laura's eyes widened and flashed some excitement.

"Yessss," she hissed, leaning forward, "this was all explained to me earlier. What has been set in motion cannot be stopped... that's just perfect... " She leaned forward a little and uncrossed her legs.

"I want to sentence this bitch to twenty years!"

Renault was quiet for a moment. The longest term he'd contracted for, ever, was for five years, and that was contracted by a syndicate of men who had suffered tremendous financial losses due to the treachery of a female employee. That unfortunate woman was still serving her sentence. But twenty years!

"Do you realize what you would be condemning this woman to, Ms. Buckley? Your hatred of her may abate in a year or two, but once the process has been started there would be no way out for her. And, as I explained, ALL of the money would be due up front."

"It's you who doesn't understand, Renault. I don't care about the money. Twenty years at five hundred thousand pounds per year is ten million pounds. That's about sixteen million dollars, and I don't have the slightest idea how many francs. I can afford that, easily. As a matter of fact, I'm prepared to pay you that amount today, PLUS more, if necessary, for 'extras'. I have some specific requirements in mind and I'm sure I'll think of some others after the tour. I want this bitch to have the FULL treatment, and more!"

Renault nodded his head and steepled his fingertips together.

"We can certainly handle any extras that you may desire. The twenty year term is also acceptable." He motioned behind her and then smiled. "Let's have a little lunch before the tour."

Laura heard some scuffling behind her. She saw Renault's smiling eyes riveted on hers and resisted the temptation to turn around. The scuffling got closer. She heard a sharp crack and then "Ohhhh!" in a sobbing female voice. This time she turned around. What she saw made her involuntarily squeeze her knees together and take a sharp breath. Renault noticed her reaction and mentally filed it away for future use.

Moving across the veranda was a nude woman. She was crawling on all fours and doing her best not to unbalance a tray that was on her back. The tray was held in place by a small strap cinched around her belly. On it were two filled glasses, two plates laden with fruit, some silverware and two napkins.

Behind the crawling server was another woman. This one was walking upright and dressed very provocatively in a miniskirt, boots, and halter top. She carried a black crop in her hand and was tapping it menacingly in her palm. As they got closer Laura was able to see that the crawling woman had a series of welts on her bare and reddened ass. Laura squeezed her knees tighter as she counted over two dozen raised ridges on the bruised bottom. It was obvious that she had been whipped terribly, and quite recently. Most likely with that same crop and by the smiling young woman who was now prodding her forward with threats of further punishment.

"Ahhh! Here comes lunch now," Renault beamed. The nude woman crawled up to them till she was right next to the table. Her head was facing Renault and her hips were practically touching Laura's right knee. The standing woman picked the contents of the tray up and gently placed them on the table. She placed the crop on the table next to Laura, then smiling, turned and walked away, leaving the nude woman still kneeling next to the table.

"This is Patricia." Renault reached his hand down and stroked the crouched girl on the side of the neck.

"Patricia has only been with us a short while. She used to be a waitress at an exclusive country club in America. Like many beautiful young girls she thought that her looks gave her the right to be rude and nasty. She forgot that her job was to 'serve' and her conceited attitude made her many enemies. One of her patrons made a harmless suggestion that they meet later that night for drinks. She slapped his face and complained loudly that he had propositioned her. This was a cause of great embarrassment to the patron, as his wife was present in the room at another table. The patron decided that Patricia needed a lesson in manners and further training in how to serve her customers."

"Patricia will be with us for a year. Her punishment has just begun and will proceed at a faster pace in the next few weeks under the careful hand if Miss Porter, who was the enchanting young lady who accompanied her to our table. Oh, I see you are fascinated by her welts."

Laura realized she had been staring at the girl's ass during the entire conversation. She looked up sheepishly and saw Renault smiling at her.

"Feel free to touch them. You may even add to them if you choose. That's why the crop was left next to your plate." He gestured with one hand while still rubbing Patricia's neck with the other.

Laura looked back at the reddened behind then slowly reached a hand forward and touched her fingertips to one of the welts. Patricia gasped and shuddered. They were obviously quite tender. Laura was intrigued with the warmth of Patricia's bottom. She fondled both cheeks, eventually using both hands to cup them and hold them. She picked up the crop and toyed with it a little, then swung out and gave a vicious whack to the helpless bottom before her. Patricia yelped and swiveled her hips to avoid a second hit. Renault grabbed her face by the chin and pinched it between his thumb and fingers. He looked at Laura and they both began eating the fruits before them. He continued holding onto Patricia's face with one hand while Laura gave her an occasional slap with the crop as she ate.

By the time they had finished, Patricia had been hit at least a dozen more times. Miss Porter came and cleared the table, depositing everything back on Patricia's tray. She then took the crop and used it to lead her away, slapping at Patricia's ass as she walked next to the crawling girl warning her not to drop anything.

"Well?" Renault asked, still holding onto his wine glass.

"Not bad" Laura conceded. "For a start... a few weeks of that might be an interesting start for my own bitch. Of course, she'd have to be cropped much more thoroughly than Patricia."

"Of course!" Renault beamed. "After all, you're paying for it."

"Yes, I am. And don't forget that, Renault."

To The Compound: Ch. 2

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