The girl lay on her back, silently staring up at the ceiling. She knew, despite being only twelve, that she was on an aircraft. Her parents had taken her on holiday before this, but she had travelled sitting up in a seat, not like this. Lying on her back with a web of strong rubber straps over her naked body. She shivered a little at the thought she was naked; she wasn't cold, but she could feel a small movement of air over where the exposed parts of body were.

Her name was Janine Owen, but that made no difference to her now. It made no difference to her that her mother and father were wealthy, that she had a brother called Thomas, who was a year older than her. None of her family were with her as far as she knew, but the way she was fastened down to some sort of bed prevented her from looking round much to find out. The biggest barrier to examining her surroundings was the strap over her forehead. It not only pinned her head down to the bed but stopped her looking sideways, though with an effort she could strain her against the strap and able to move her head an inch or so, and look out of the corner of her eye.

Janine could see there was a girl like her, lying in a similar position to her on a separate bed. Another naked girl, strapped down as she was. The only difference she could see was that the girl alongside her was blindfolded. For that, at least, Janine was grateful. As she wasn't denied sight, at least Janine could take in some of her surroundings and try to work out what had happened to her.

But there was a huge gap in her memory. She had dinner with her parents and brother - and that seemed a very long time ago - and immediately fallen asleep, more or less at the table. She had been vaguely aware of being carried and had a dim recollection of being undressed by her mother. But she was being undressed downstairs, which puzzled her. She might have expected her parents to carry her upstairs to her bedroom, but they hadn't. She could recall feeling her clothes come away and her father saying "They'll be here soon," and her mother saying "Good. About time." But after that, nothing apart from a dream-like sensation of being lifted on some sort of stretcher and into what might have passed for an ambulance.

But Janine wasn't ill. Not that she knew. As far as she could remember she was a perfectly healthy girl. She went to school, had friends, loved being at home with her family... No problems at all. Yet here she was, bound and helpless in an aircraft.

And gagged too. Janine had tried to call out when she woke up, but there was something pressing over her lips, helping to keep her head down. A sly glance at the girl next to her had confirmed what she thought: she was gagged with a rubber strap over her lower face, though she felt something in her mouth like a small ball. Enough to stop her shouting out for help.

But Janine wasn't a stupid girl. She had learned to weigh things up before reacting. If she didn't understand why she was here like this, there was no point in calling for her mother or father or anyone else. She wasn't meant to speak, and that much she could work out for herself. Whatever was happening to her was happening to at least one other girl like her.

There was also pressure in her ears which told her she had something in them, so she couldn't hear. If she was on a plane (and the ceiling looked very much like it) she couldn't hear the noise of the engines. So, she worked out, someone had taken her from her home and brought her here, fastened her down and made her unable to speak or hear. She was being flown somewhere and they wanted her to be naked. All she had to do was wait and find out more and then perhaps try to get home.

Janine was sure her parents would be missing her by now. For all she knew they had instigated all sorts of international activity in order to find their lovely, happy daughter

A figure of a woman came into Janine's view, a young woman with blonde hair, just like Janine's own though hers was swept back in a bun. The woman was in some sort of blue uniform, like a flight attendant would wear, and she bent over the restrained girl. But she made no attempt to undo the straps or free the girl from her gag. She merely looked down into Janine's blue eyes and smiled. The woman's lips moved, but Janine couldn't hear anything. Then, to her surprise, the woman as tugging one of the earplugs from the girl's ear on one side.

"Glad to see you're awake, honey," the woman said. She was an American, and sounded nothing like Janine's own British accent. "And not struggling too. That's cool. Sorry about the gag, sweetheart, but I can't remove that. Just can't stand you brats crying and wailing." She grinned, and stroked Janine's hair. "My, you are a pretty thing. Such a shame."

Janine must have looked puzzled, because the flight attendant laughed. "Oh my, honey, you really have no idea, have you?" For a moment the woman seemed to be thinking what she should say, and then she spoke while still stroking the child's hair: "You don't look dumb, like some of the little bitches we get to fly out. All tears and wails as if that made any difference. Your nice and clam and I guess you're more than a bit curious. Okay, You're on your way to an island, in case you wondered. Long way from your home. Lots of palm trees and beaches and stuff on the island. Real paradise some would say. It's a great shame you can't enjoy it but, hey, that's not why you're going. It ain't a vacation, that's for sure. Glad you aren't crying though. I'd hate to have to hide those pretty eyes of yours with a rubber strap."

Janine, of course, couldn't say anything but she gave the tiniest, merest nod (as much as the straps on her forehead and across her jaw allowed). The young woman smiled again. She had stopped stroking and ran her fingertips over Janine's face, following the line of her nose which said was "cute" and then ran her fingertips down over Janine's neck, and down her chest, over a rubber strap, to where the girl's nipples were exposed. The woman toyed with the small pink nubbins for a second or too and sighed as Janine tensed a little. "Better get used to this, hon. Lot of people going to be doing things to you like this. Course, if you were different then it wouldn't happen. If you hadn't failed the test."

Janine gave another puzzled look, which made the flight attendant grin again. "Well, this is how it is, sweetcakes. You see, you may not have known it but your mom and dad had you tested. Probably at school I guess, and they found that you are what they call a frigid. Know what that word means?"

Janine was bright and knew a lot but she didn't know that word. She gave the tiniest shake of her head.

"Well, frigid means you ain't what they call warm. That means - and I am not expert in this, trust me - that you don't respond to sex. Not open to doing stuff, like screwing and playing around. Far as I know you came out badly in the test so that's why you're here, hon. Oh, it's all psychological stuff, you know where they ask you certain questions and you say things that maybe don't make a whole lot of sense. But they know what it means even if you don't. Maybe you had a test like that recently."

The woman's wandering hand rested lightly on Janine's bare mound, and the girl gave a little shiver again. She didn't like it at all but there was nothing she could do to stop it. The woman continued: "So, they test you and if you are classed as a frigid, that means they say that you won't ever be marrying anyone, or having babies and stuff when you're older. Not having sex, either with men or women or even dogs, if that's your thing. So if your mom and dad don't like what they were told about you being frigid, they have you sent to the island. Along with all the other frigids here." At this the flight attendant nodded to the rest of the cabin. "You can't see from down there but you are one of twenty bitches like you, all going to this place in the Caribbean. You won't have heard of it as it's a sort of private island, where parents who are disappointed in their kids send them for, I guess, special training and re-education."

Janine tried to take in all this information. So, she was one of these frigids? How did anyone know? She wondered. Then she recalled a test, they type of thing the woman in blue was talking about. A man came into the school and he asked a lot of silly questions and showed certain pictures of men and women kissing and being married and having babies, and he made a note of everything Janine had said. That was it. Two hours of strange questions and odd pictures and nothing more was said.

That was two months ago, maybe more. All that Janine could remember about that was a big brown envelope arriving a week or two later and her parents saying it was some sort of report and looking at it together, and being disappointed. That was how they looked, at least, when they finished it. Then her dad went and made a long phone call and though Janine's mother said it was nothing to worry about, she didn't look pleased.

Janine had largely forgotten about that and got on with her school work, studying and reading and spending time with her friends Dawn and Leanne. But they hadn't had any test like Janine had, and that intrigued her at the time. Only one other girl in the class, Danielle, had the same test. Janine couldn't help wondering if she too was a frigid, and if so was she here on the plane? Tied up like herself, wondering what was going to happen next.

The flight attendant's hand was gently rubbing Janine's mound. "Most kids of your age get all sort of aroused at this," said the woman in blue. "Guess it ain't doing much for you. Course, I could finger you some, but that wouldn't do you any good would it?"

Fingering? Ah yes, Janine had heard what that was. Dawn had told her one day that boys liked to put their fingers inside girls' private parts. Pussies, she called them. That, said Dawn, was called fingering. A lot of girls liked it, she said. Janine had said she didn't think she would. She had heard that Marion and Aisha, two other girls in her school year, had been caught playing with each other's pussies -- cunts some people called them -- and all hell had broken loose. Janine had been puzzled by why they should do that to each other. She had tried touching herself down there once and didn't like the idea. The genital area was solely for weeing and soon, she was told, for a woman's monthly periods. Sex was just something rabbits and other animals did, she believed.

So why did this woman with blonde hair want to finger her? Surely that was naughty. Anyway, her legs were clamped tight together with rubber straps so Janine wouldn't be able to open them even if she wanted to. Dawn had said boys liked girls to spread their legs for fingering and fucking, and the idea revolted Janine. It was like the whole business of feeling breasts. Some boys were always trying to grab a girl's boobs at school but Janine had virtually no breasts. Not yet.

Nothing like Leanne, who had quite big boobs or titties as she called them that the boys were always trying to touch. Leanne, Janine thought, always liked the idea of being 'felt up' and used to tease boys about it and wore a black bar under her white school shirt so boys could see better, she said. But Janine could never allow any of that, she knew, even if her own breasts never developed more than just the little bumps she had so far. The boys had noticed and would make comments about Janine's lack of development, but she didn't care if she was just about the only girl in her year who didn't wear a bra. She didn't want any boy touching her there.

It was bad enough when her mother said she should go and see Doctor Halsey, and the woman - who had very cold, clinical hands - examined Janine when the girl was sure there was nothing wrong with her. Feeling round her 'breast tissue' and examining her young, bare vagina, making Janine spread her legs wide for inspection. Janine had been very embarrassed at the investigation and heard the doctor say there needed to be a further check. But other than the psychology test at school, there had been nothing.

Only a visit from her fussy, gray-haired teacher, Miss Grantham, one evening a few weeks ago, when Janine was told to go to her room and shut her door. But she had been told nothing later about what her teacher had come to discuss. Janine was sure she was seen as a hard-working student with good grades in just about every subject. Apart from Biology, which for some reason Janine hated. All that talk about sex organs troubled her. Even hearing about bees fertilising plants. The whole idea made the girl feel cold.

To Janine's relief the flight attendant had removed her hand from the girl's private parts. Now she was just looking down at the girl. "You're gonna find it tough there, on the island," said the blonde woman with a sigh. "Pretty thing like you... They'll make you work hard, and train you. They always do with the really frigid bitches." The woman sighed agin, leant down and kissed Janine's cheek and, to the girl's astonishment, then planted another on the rubber strap over her sealed lips. A lingering sort of kiss as if she really liked the helpless girl. "I could get serious with you, child," breathed the woman. "I could teach you a few things about real pleasure." But with that she stood, picked up a rubber strap and placed it over Janine's eyes, cutting out the light and securing it swiftly so it wouldn't move.

"Soon be there, honey. All ready to start your training," said the flight attendant. It was the last thing the girl heard as the ear plug was pushed back in.

Janine lay quite still in the darkness, feeling the tremors of the plane and in the silence, and wondered what the woman had meant by 'pleasure' and 'training.' Then she felt the vibrations change in the bed beneath her and a sensation in her stomach told her the plane must be descending. To what though, she had no idea.

End of part 1