Mila tried to shift to a comfortable position in the seat. But it was a lost cause. It was not the seat at fault though but the damn belt. No matter how she sat the thing dug in somewhere.
Speelbal had wisely suggested that her Mistress acclimatise to wearing latex, collar and chastity belt before their trip to visit Speelbal’s parents. It was a good idea. Mila would not have wanted the journey, and the stay, spoilt by the discomfort and sleepless nights that had plagued her since embarking on this project.
Mila marvelled that Speelbal relished and enjoyed the restrictions imposed by these items. The belt was an utter nightmare. It crushed her waist and pinched her crotch. Keeping clean was an onerous but necessary task, and getting out of the bathroom without the odour of stale piss emanating from the device was an achievement. She hated it. Plus it was hard to sleep in.
No wonder the English men had had to make the non-compliance of wearing a belt punishable with a public flogging. It was all that would induce Mila to continue with the acclimatisation process.
Nearly as bad was the collar. Ostensibly supposed to be a more visible replacement for a wedding ring, no woman was fooled. It was a slave collar. This was why Speelbal loved hers so much. As Speelbal’s dominatrix, as well as wife, Mila was finding wearing a collar much more of a challenge.
Five millimetres thick, five centimetres tall and with an internal circumference of only thirteen centimetres, the stainless steel fetter sat flush to her skin and high on her neck. It was embarrassing to be seen in, hard to hide and forever reminding Mila that it was there and she could not remove it. The ring on the front, which once in England a leash would be clipped to, was excruciatingly embarrassing too. It turned the device from an unusual choker into the slave collar it was.
Both the keys to the belt, and the collar, were safely in the charge of Carol, Speelbal’s sister. Not because she was submitting to Carol but because if they were in the house both devices would have been removed ages ago.
The impact of this had been dramatic in the Van Dijk household. Their sex life had come to a crashing halt. Plus Mila’s short temper, induced by discomfort and lack of sleep, had made her slave’s life hell too. Mila always felt guilty when she knew she had scolded unreasonably. She had put away all the impact toys as she did not trust her own temper at this time. The owner and slave power exchange dynamic was core to their relationship. It was not being put on hold while Mila toughed out this new way of living. But that meant her slave was bearing the brunt of Mila’s wrath.
Mila, recognising this, tried as much as an owner and wife could, to keep to herself within the house. Speelbal was sleeping in her cage, and being given as many tasks that got her out of the house as Mila could find. Speelbal for her part was trying to be as obedient as she could. No back chat or samy misbehaviour, performing her duties as fast, efficiently and quietly as she could. Mila loved her slave and wife all the more for this silent support.
To take her mind off the stainless steel devices, as well as the insane latex catsuit Mila was currently clad in, Mila was trying to read a travel guide to England. What she was reading was nearly as appalling as the outfit she was locked into. It staggered her that a civilised and cultured society had deteriorated so fast into what an Englishman ten yeas ago would have called a dystopian future.
England is in a state of political flux and the modern traveller needs to understand both how fast the present state of affairs came about as well as the reasons behind them. That in less than ten years the country has first ceded from the EU and then broken up as a nation with the loss of Scotland has had a profound effect on its citizens and culture.
After the UK left the EU the incumbent Prime Minister wisely set the country up as an offshore tax haven for the countries still within the EU. Contrary to many fiscal pundits predictions, the UK economy went into overdrive, especially in the banking sector. This along with the depletion of North Sea oil caused an even deeper rift with Scotland. Scotland held their promised referendum and voted to leave.
The unexpected loss of Scotland along with the moral excesses of many bankers, akin to the behaviour exhibited in the nineteen eighties, led to the challenge to Prime Minister May’s leadership by the present Prime Minister. He campaigned on a ticket of Moral Regeneration that once he gained power was revealed to actually be a policy of thinly veiled misogamy, hidden under a veil of hatred directed at lesbians. Women were quickly disenfranchised. Then progressively laws were placed that restricted and removed the rights of women still further. Women are no longer allowed to drive. Women are now only educated by the state up to the age of eleven. Also women cannot marry without parental permission and if over twenty five years of age can be forced to marry either by their parents or the state.
In fact as this guide went to press women are no longer allowed out of their homes, unless being escorted by a man, or traveling to their place of employment or to shopping precincts to purchase groceries. Women not chaperoned by a man, and thus actually attached to his leash, found by the MRU (Moral Regeneration Unit) will be arrested, searched and possibly detained.
It is also a legal requirement for all women to wear a chastity belt and gag when in public as well as a skirt or dress (the reasons women in England wear latex rubber will be covered later). They must also wear a collar, to indicate their marital status, at all times. If a woman is caught flouting these laws the punishments are harsh. They apply to visitors so pay close attention to them. The English judiciary is not lenient.
There is a charge that can be used against any women any time, called Lacking Respect. It requires all women to adopt a submissive attitude, address all men as Sir, and to follow all orders or instructions given to them by a man. It is the authors view that this law, along with the collars all women are required to wear, that reduces any woman within the borders of England to the position of slave.
The penalty for breaking this law, as well as many other ‘moral codes’, is to be displayed naked in stocks set in town centres after being publicly flogged. Women sentenced to the stocks typically spend two to three days in them. There are no rest breaks or overnight stays in cells. Some towns use inferred lamps to warm prisoners in the winter, but even so there have been deaths from exposure. These women are also routinely abused, sexually molested or even raped (The crime of rape has been repealed in England).
As a trial can convict on hearsay or circumstantial evidence (Literally a man can shout loudly, “You did not call me Sir,” to acquire a conviction.) England is a very dangerous place for a woman to be. This author advises all women to think carefully before travelling to England under this present regime.
Amnesty International has been highlighting a number of cases of false imprisonment. All women and mostly for the crime of being gay. Do not enter England if you are openly gay. It is a crime to be homosexual and you will face a long prison sentence if found out.
It ought to be noted that, if you are male, England is a very safe place to visit. Crime and unemployment are both very low. With women being withdrawn from many roles they once held well paid employment is easily achieved for most men. Thus enabling him to support a wife and children at home. With employment levels near one hundred per cent crime is low, especially violent crime. There is some organised crime, mostly the trafficking of women, but burglary and mugging are at record lows.
This domestic boom has made the Prime Minister very popular with the voters (i.e. men) and he has achieved such a strong majority that he has enacted sweeping constitutional changes to maintain this status quo. As such he is no longer required to seek re-election for another ten years. The House of Lords has been abolished. The line of succession within the English Monarchy has been changed so that only Kings may sit on the English throne.
Women in England are almost exclusively dressed in latex rubber or, if allergic, a replacement non allergenic material such as nitrile rubber. This is not routinely enforced by law. However a visiting woman should think twice before considering wearing anything else.
The reasons women are dressed this way is not fully known and some of the story is anecdotal. However it is a fact that, shortly after the gagging laws were expanded, some government employees brought a civil case against the cost of clothing damage and laundry bills induced by drool caused in turn by the gags the women were forced to wear. The government paid out, but then enforced the wearing of latex uniforms by all female government employees.
Other businesses, keen to avoid financial loss at court followed the governments lead and soon all female workers were clad in latex. Along with the collars and gags, as well as the leashes men now walked their women folk out on, the latex appealed to some zeitgeist amongst the men now in control. Soon all women were dressed in latex, by their men, all the time.
In fact even when the use of panel gags became popular, thus eliminating the need for drool proof clothing, there was no return to ‘ordinary’ fabrics. The genie was out of the bottle and the men had spoken. Women were to wear latex only. To date, there have been three cases where a woman not dressed in latex has been tried under the Lacking Respect laws. One was acquitted, the other two saw the women charged both flogged and spend three nights in the stocks.
A returning visitor to England then will find the country much changed. Especially if they have not visited in a while. Women are not often seen out and almost never alone. In those places they are allowed unaccompanied such as supermarkets or shopping malls the gag laws mean women have become proficient in sign language.
A new shop, and a distinctly ‘English’ addition to the high street or shopping arcade, is the company Maroo. A Maroo shop can be found now in most towns, as they have become the go to source for chastity belts, collars, gags and many of the other essentials needed to keep the female public in bondage.
Schools have largely become segregated. It is no longer an offence for a girl not to attend school once she has passed her numeracy and literacy exams. A girl may sit these as young as nine but must have sat them by the age of eleven. Girl’s are then typically kept at home until old enough to attend a ‘Girls Academy’ usually starting to attend at around age fourteen. There a young woman is taught to cook and clean, dance and play musical instruments as well as other domestic and menial tasks and, once over the age of consent (or with parental permission), how to please a future husband sexually.
If you are female and intend to travel to England this guide can give simple advice;
Don't attempt to travel alone. You will most likely be refused a visa if unaccompanied by a man.
Do not even try to enter the country without a collar locked on.
Err always on the side of caution. Be polite, submissive, compliant and meek to all men.
Always dress in latex, to do otherwise will invite unwanted attention.
Never venture out without a gag in your mouth, a skirt on, and the key to the chastity belt you are wearing either in the man holding your leash’s pocket, or better yet the hotel safe.
England is still a beautiful country, the cities are full of great history and architecture. The rural areas still hold the charm once captured by such great artist as Constable. Yet the sociopolitical landscape is very off kilter and out of step with most countries in the western world. The rules restricting women are harsher now than those imposed in some Arab nations, though as yet the English have yet to execute any women found guilty of breaking the new laws.
Mila looked up from her reading. Speelbal was kneeling in her spot near the television screen.
"Speelbal, what happened in your country?"
"Meesteres, I don't understand the question?"
"The rubber, the collars, these fucking belts. It's all so extreme. A few years ago I'd have said it was pretty un British too."
"Ahh I understand. Meesteres, it's actually very British, even if Britain no longer exists. Do you not remember Fifty Shades of Grey? The English have always been kinky.
“The Prime Minister failed to recognise that. He meant well, I don't think he is a bad man. In many ways he has kept his promises. Taxes are low, crime is down and levels of employment are at record highs.
“Just his moral thing got derailed by others with personal agendas. Sir Humphrey Appleby was one. It was his treatment of his wife that inspired the barriers of penetration laws. Plus shortly after Sir Humphrey's car was damaged by a mum on the school run women were band from driving. Over active back bench sycophants expanded the barriers laws via a private members bill. It was the Minister for Administrative Affairs who brought in the latex clothing. So no one person did it all. It just snowballed out of control."
"This guide I'm reading is quite blunt. It says we should not set foot in England. I actually was terrified in the Embassy. The whole thing is so sinister. How does it continue?"
"There are scary parts, Meesteres, but mostly it's just people trying to get by on a day to day basis. Plus a lot of people are actually happy under the regime. If I'd been straight I'd have been in heaven. Then there are the women married to non kinky men, they just put up with the rules and get on with living. If you ignore the disenfranchisement of women only ten percent are actually oppressed."
"Slave, you sound like you approve of the system."
"Oh no, Meesteres, the system is sick. Women are abused daily, rape is no longer a crime, marriages are forced, in fact, let's face it; women are slaves. I remember being shocked, as a child, reading what women in Saudi Arabia put up with. Now English women have it worse."
"Do you still want to go back?”
“Not to stay, but it would be nice to see mum and dad.”
"We need to get them out."
"Do you think we could, Meesteres?"
"I think we need to try."
The pair stared at each other wondering if it was safe to talk about such things. Just then Mila's phone rang, jarring both women from their reverie and alarming them too. Mila picked up her phone and looked at the screen. It was not a number she recognised. She accepted the call.
"Hallo, dit is Mila Van Dijk."
"Oh hello Mila, I don't know if you'll remember me, it's Bernadette Woolley from the English Embassy. I am the ambassador's assistant and was present at your meeting with him."
"Ja, ik herinner kan ik u helpen."
"Would you mind awfully if we spoke in English? While I do have some Dutch I feel I can communicate better in my native tongue."
"No that's fine. My wife is English, I'll understand you perfectly."
"Splendid, thank you. I do hope I've called at a convenient moment. I hope you aren't out walking the dog or something?"
"No, we don't own a dog." Mila was thinking this was a very strange phone call.
"You don't? Oh I really must recommend ownership of a dog to you. Lots of opportunities to get out into the countryside, away from the house, when you exercise it. Plus they make such great guards protecting the home."
"I'll consider it. I do enjoy owning a pet on a leash."
"Oh very droll, Mila, I had forgotten you and your wife live an alternative lifestyle. You keep your wife collared and submissive I believe?"
"Ja, Speelbal is very happy in her collar."
"Wonderful, please believe me when I say I truly envy your wife. It is a situation I think I too would find conducive to happiness."
"I'm sure there is someone out there, Bernadette, who would be more than willing to make you happy in that way. You are a very pretty woman."
"You think so? I do hope you are right, Mila. Right now it seems like a fantastical dream."
"Really? I thought there were many men, in England, only too happy for the collars you English ladies wear to mean more than a symbol of marital status."
"I am sure you are right, but that, of course, is not the dream of which I was speaking... However I digress. I was calling to check you received your visa's okay?”
“Yes they all came through fine.”
“Excellent. Do you know when you are traveling?”
“We actually fly out Tomorrow.”
“Listen, do you think you could do me a favour then? When the plane lands, before you disembark, could you send me a text, to this number, to let me know you’ve landed?”
“Letting you know we have landed in England is doing you a favour?”
“Let’s just say it’ll help me to help you if you catch my drift.”
“Okay, that’s quite vague, but I don’t see the harm in texting you.”
“Marvellous, also, on a quite unrelated issue, the Ambassador has informed me that he would like to have a documentary crew present, to follow your progress through the airport. You are quite unique amongst our visitors and the Ambassador is looking to make a promotional piece to boost tourism. You’ll have no objection to being filmed, will you?”
“You wish to film me and my wife gagged, dressed in latex being led on a leash attached to a collar and show it to my countrymen?”
“When you put it like that I can see why you’d want to refuse Mila. However, how do I say this? It can be good sometimes to have witnesses. Someone who is recording what is done and said? Plus an official who knows he is being watched will stick to the rules…”
“Je moeder! I understand, I have been wearing this kut collar and belt for two weeks in an attempt to get used to the rukker. I’m dressed in rubber and while it looks great on my slave I would not dress this way if I had free choice. Your homeland, Bernadette, is not well. I will follow your advice. Please, when we are back safe, come visit. I would like to thank you in person for your help.”
“That is very kind of you, Mila. Though I’ll have to decline your generous offer. We lowly staff are not permitted off the grounds of the Embassy. Though if you find yourself in The Hauge…”
“I’ll drop in if I am, Bernadette.”
“Well, enjoy your trip to England Mila.”
“Thank you for your call, Bernadette.”
Mila put down her phone and looked at her slave. Not for the first time she asked herself how she got so lucky in finding this woman. They were so perfectly matched. Was she risking everything by indulging her this trip back into the lion's den?
“Did you get the gist of that, girl?” She asked her kneeling slave.
“Did you mention we are being filmed, Meesteres?”
“A documentary crew will film our arrival in England. Bernadette ‘suggested’ we say yes to being filmed as it will keep the officials ‘honest’.”
“I understand, Meesteres.”
“Which gives me an idea, Little One.”
Mila picked up her phone and looked up a number. Finding what she was after she clicked on the link that would dial the number.
Mila had never felt so self conscious in her life. The only plus was she had Speelbal, Carol plus Carol’s husband Henrik both for support and, in the case of the ladies, draw attention from her.
Mila, Speelbal and Carol were all dressed in latex rubber. Mila had opted for a simple black sleeveless dress over a pair of matching leggings. Thigh high patent black leather boots, with five inch high stiletto heels, turned Mila from a stunning sight into sensational.
Mila had dressed Speelbal in one of the outfits Bernadette had gifted her at the embassy. So a white latex blouse was matched with a short rubber mini skirt in black and latex stockings. The stockings were held up by suspenders attached to the corset under the two outer garments. To keep the secretarial look Mila had her slave's feet shod in Oxfords with seven inch stilettos and just a two inch platform. Even with these on she still appeared diminutive compared to her owner who stood at nearly two meters tall in her heels.
Carol too was dressed in a secretarial outfit from the embassy. While older than her sister by a year she had, at Mila's request, matched her hair and makeup to her younger sister. The effect was striking as they looked like identical twins.
All three women had steel collars locked in place about their throats, and the tell tale bumps under their clinging rubber clothes of matching steel chastity belts. All four of the party were stood in the middle of the concourse of the Departures section of Amsterdam airport with a crowd of photographers taking pictures.
Mila's phone call had been to De Tellegraff who had shared the story with a TV station. It turned out there were some paperazi at the airport too and it had quickly turned into a circus. Mila had handed over a copy of the minutes of the meeting she had had with the English Ambassador to the journalist she had called.
She then found herself in the glare of the news crews lights as they prepared to interview her for a live broadcast. The camera man wordlessly held out a hand to the reporter and sequentially folded three fingers to count the reporter in.
"Hello Steph, that's right, I'm here at the Airport with Mila and her family who are about to fly to England. As you can see they are quite the picture and almost look like they have escaped from De Wallen in all their shiny rubber clothes. Mila, can I ask how you feel about these outfits you are wearing?"
"Well, Famke, I feel pretty self conscious at the moment, but I'm sure we will blend in when we arrive."
"You look fantastic and you are drawing quite a crowd, not bad for our tolerant society."
"I'm sure that's more to do with you news people. Folk are just curious as to why we are being interviewed."
"So why are you, given the oppressive regime in power in England, risking a journey there?"
"Carol, and her sister's parents, Mike and Alice Cage have recently given birth to a baby boy. We are going to visit their new baby brother."
"Are you worried about the journey at all?"
"I have the English ambassador, James Hacker's, personal assurance that we will be fine. But I am still nervous about the way women are treated there. Plus this is the first time Carol and her sister have been back since they 'defected' here to the Netherlands."
"Could you explain your dress and the rules in England to our viewers please?"
"Yes of course. So all women in England must wear collars like these if they are married or not looking for a husband. Single ladies have to wear a different sort of collar. Women in England must also wear chastity belts and gags when out in public," Mila held up a ball gag, "oh, and skirts too; no trousers or jeans."
Mila continued, "If a woman goes out with a man she must have a leash attached to her collar, she's not allowed to go to certain places without him. Also women must be meek and submissive to men, calling them sir and obeying instructions. I've read books on the subject an I'll admit I'm not clear why women dress in rubber there. But they all do, so, so must we."
"That sounds terrible, why do the English women accept that?"
"I'm not sure Famke, perhaps it will be clearer once I've seen it first hand. But Carol and her sister have told me the police are very strict and powerful plus the punishments for disobedience are positively medieval."
"Thank you for your time today Mila," the reporter turned and faced the camera, "yes folks Mila was not joking when she used the word medieval. A woman found guilty of breaking laws in England, can actually be publicly stripped naked and locked in stocks, before being whipped for the crowds entertainment. I've been asked by the studio to follow Mila and her family out to England and follow her progress. I'm waiting on a visa and a suitable fetish outfit. But I can assure you viewers, that is one very brave family. This Is Famke De Vries reporting for NPO News at Amsterdam International.”
The camera lights went out and the journalist turned back to Mila.
“That was great. I gotta say I meant that last bit.”
“Thank you, you are actually part of my contingency plan. If no one knows we are there, we are easy to disappear.”
“It’s a smart move. I'll be honest, I’m not too pleased the editor is sending me after you.”
“If you are lucky they won’t grant you a visa.”
“Fingers crossed.”
“Thank you for not highlighting Speelbal and I are married.”
“If I’d done that it would have backfired on you. Don’t rub their noses in the fact you are gay.”
“We really don’t plan to. Thank you again.”
“Not at all. You take care now.”
Once the TV people moved away they were quickly surrounded by the press asking all sorts of questions. Then they were asked to pose for photographs, at one point the girls all put on their gags and Henrik attached their leashes. The press seemed especially interested in the sisters in their matching outfits. Latex clad twins to splash on the front covers of Tomorrows tabloids.
Eventually it was time to check in. They made their way to the desk and along with their passports and entry visas they had to confirm Henrik was holding the keys, and that he had leashes and gags for all the women under his control.
The staff at the desk were both men and they kept addressing Henrik as if the women were not there. On the plus side the flight was apparently underbooked and they were all offered upgrades to first class. Boarding passes issued they made their way to the entrance to the departure gates. There was the usual queue to get through security so they joined it.
They had been in the queue only seconds when Henrik was approached by a security guard.
"Sir, can I assume by the way your companions are dressed you are flying to England?"
"Yes," Henrik answered.
"Are they all belted?"
"Of course."
"Could you all follow me please?"
They were led past the metal detector gates and ushered into a small room bare room. Once inside the door was shut and the guard turned to them.
"Ladies, gentleman," started the guard, "I'm a citizen of the Netherlands and you are under no suspicion of any crime. The security at this point of your journey is to stop criminals smuggling weapons or explosives aboard your plane. The laws the English have enforced on their women make my job hard to do. Your belts and collars trip up the detectors, so before you can board I must search each of you. Do any of you object to this?"
There was a general shaking of heads and so the guard asked Henrik to raise his arms. A quick wave with a metal detecting wand followed by a frisk and Henrik was asked to stand on one side of the room. Next was Speelbal which went the same as for Henrik, except the wand squealed over the belt and collar, as did Carols search straight after. Mila was last and her search was as perfunctory as the others.
“Thank you ladies, I feel I must warn you, you can expect the English to be much more invasive.” Turning to Mila he said, “Ma'am, you may want to reconsider those leggings the customs guys in England may take umbrage to anything that makes the belt harder to remove."
Mila was shocked, but she could see the guard was just trying to help, and was grateful too.
"Thank you for the advice," she replied.
"Who are you flying with? KLM or British Airways?"
"British Airways, they were by far the cheapest."
"Yeah there is a reason for that. They will want English law applied before you board. Gags in, women on leashes. If you want to remove your gag order a drink after take off. But don't take it off until it arrives. Put it back in before you land. If you think you need to, use the toilet before you fly, it's a short flight and they'll not make it easy for you to leave your seat."
"Again, thank you."
"Not at all, you folk enjoy your trip," so saying the guard left the room leaving the door open behind him. Mila's party left the room and made their way to the departure gate.
There were quite a few people already there. Mostly men, but a few had women with them and they were all sitting quietly next to their men, leashed and gagged. Mila turned to Henrik.
"Okay Henrik, before you start your power trip crazed domination of us ladies I'm getting out of these leggings. I really don't need an angry customs official groping me when we arrive."
Turning to her wife Mila continued, "Speelbal come with me, I may need your assistance."
"Yes, M.. Mila," stuttered Speelbal. She was finding it hard to not call her owner Meesteres. Especially as prior to this trip she had never called Mila anything else.
Mila led her wife into the disabled toilet cubical and had her help her first out of the boots and then the leggings. Once the leggings were removed the boots were put back on. The two women arrived back at the gate just as first class was being boarded.