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| Trappers | Back to D | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
update oct 3 - 2010
Another story by Wolverine
Trappers
by WOLVERINE
PART 4
After a few affectionate words, the girl with long brown hair bent to kiss her mother still seated at the hotel restaurant table at the Spanish coastal resort, presenting her firm, round rump in beige trousers to the fascinated gaze of the two men at the next table, The smaller one nudged his friend and they stared at the enticing target presented for their inspection, observing the distinct panty-line under the thin material and noting that about 40% of the girl’s bottom-cheeks were bulging outside the elastic. She stood up and walked gracefully off, her two tight little cheeks rubbing against one another in the tight trousers.
“We’ve got to have her,” said Jeffs, “but how?”
Next day Barnes took his friend aside. “Just as well I can understand French well – I’ve hung around and found out a lot about our target and her family. She and the tall, slim fair lad are twins – not identical, I fancy – and they’re both 18. The shorter, stockier lad with curly dark hair is 16 – yes, I know he looks older. And get this – the parents are going to some special cultural event, some sort of play, tonight. They won’t be back till late: I checked it on that computer thoughtfully put in our room. They told the older two kids to look after the younger one. But he’s told the other kids he’s going down to the town to pick up a bird and he asked them to make themselves scarce if he came back with one. They agreed, though the brother said it was very unlikely. Junior didn’t like that at all. The older two will be in their room playing some computer game they like. They’re sitting ducks.”
“If you ring Jorge to bring the van round, it’ll all be easy. We don’t know when Junior may come back, but we can deal with him anyway,” Jeffs concluded.
The two trappers had been commissioned by a Russian billionaire to collect one or two girls to amuse his guests on his yacht which would soon be moored nearby before proceeding on a long cruise. He’d specified that the girls should be young, innocent, inexperienced and not too extravagantly curved. The dutiful French girl fitted the bill excellently. They’d already collected two victims, a Dutch cyclist who’d got too far in front of her friends and a German biology student who’d been netted just as she was about to trap a rare butterfly, which Jeffs had then trodden on.
That evening Cecile Leclerc heard a discreet knock at the door and opened it to see two middle-aged men she vaguely recognised. They smiled at her and she smiled back. Her small hard breasts in her tight blue-and-white top looked welcoming too, thought Barnes. He grabbed her by her long glossy hair, pulled her towards him and sank his fist in her firm belly. He could have subdued her with the gun Jose had supplied, but this was much more fun. The brother jumped up with an exclamation, but Barnes told him to shut up and smashed the gun into his face to underline the point. Jeffs had closed the door and was softening up the girl a bit more.
They made the two young people strip at gunpoint, though they chose to let Cecile keep on her frilly light pink bra and her white knickers with pink polka dots: Ryzhov would like both items and would see them as increasing her girlish appeal. Cecile was staring at her captors with big trusting eyes. “What do you want?” she asked in lightly-accented English.
“You, of course, my dear – and maybe your brother,” Jeffs replied. We’ll leave fucking you till later, because our driver should be here soon and we don’t want to stay around here too long and find your spotty younger brother coming back. Oh, yes – we know all about that.” Neither she nor her brother resisted as they were bound and gagged. Jeffs was an artist of bondage and made sure that the rope bit tightly into the girl’s firm young breasts top and bottom.
Barnes’ mobile phone beeped. After a brief conversation he whispered to Jeffs, “Jorge’s van’s broken down again. He thinks he can fix it, but he can’t be sure when he’ll be here. We could be stuck here, and that could be a problem. We’re already late because we held off when he had trouble with it the first time.” They waited nervously, amusing themselves by squeezing Cecile’s breasts, flicking a nail against her face and weighing and pinching her firm little bottom. Her innocent brown eyes followed the men uncomprehendingly as if they were beings from another planet. Then they all heard a sound – laughing voices and slow steps approaching the door. Junior was returning and he had found his bird.
Hope and fear flickered in Cecile’s eyes. Her captors had to make a decision very quickly – either to hide till the newcomers were inside, the door shut and their attention elsewhere – or to use the gun to capture them right away. Barnes was a quick thinker in an emergency: he saw the risk that if the newcomers opened the door and immediately saw two men and a gun, they would run for it or scream. From then on the situation would be unmanageable – and screams or a gunshot would probably bring other guests. “In the shower unit with them – us too!” he hissed. They dragged their captives into the shower unit, Barnes leaving the bathroom door wide open but shutting the shower unit door. “That way they can’t see us but we can hear what’s going on and tell when’s the best time to come out,” he explained.
They only just made it in time. Two people came in with a good deal of laughing and bumping into furniture. One voice was the younger brother’s and the other a young woman’s, sounding older than his, her Spanish accent obvious through the English they were mostly speaking. “Before we make love,” the youth was saying, “I like to do some other things, English things. Spanking.”
“Spanking? I not know that word.” That was followed by a sharp crack and a yelp. The young man laughed. “Like that! I educate you!” The girl seemed confused and uncertain. “Jean-Luc, you’re a really nice kid, sort of funny…” (He won’t like that,” whispered Jeffs to Barnes) “and I like you, really, but you are a student, only 18, and I am six years older and a nurse, so it is a little strange (“He’s said he’s 18 and she’s believed him!” hissed Jeffs) “I not know you very well and these things, I not know. So please – only love and kisses.”
“What if we, what is word, experiment a little, but you can tell me any time to stop?” There was a silence. Then she said, “O.K., but when I say stop, you stop.”
The next thing they heard was a kind of juicy THWUCK! followed immediately by a long hissing groan. The listening men knew those sounds very well: Jean-Luc had hit her hard in the stomach. “Do you want me to stop? Speak now!” the lad sneered. Before she could speak he hit her again. Then there was the sound of a series of quick blows, brutal ones that found their target judging by the nurse’s cries, and then the unmistakeable sound of clothes ripping. “I’ve got to see this!” said Barnes, opening the shower door a fraction. The sight they saw through the gap pleased both men. The nurse lay collapsed face-down on the bed: most of her body was out of sight, but her olive-brown rump, large, well-parted and pear-shaped, could be seen sticking up over the edge of the bed. It was protected, or rather decorated, by a frilly pinkish-red thong which just hid the central crack. Jean-Luc twice pulled up the thong and let it snap back against her plump target before ripping it in two and pulling it angrily away from her body. The boy grossly pinched each bottom-cheek and patted the quivering thing as if it were a docile pet. He reached out of sight and produced a table-tennis bat with which he tapped one cheek lightly before smashing the bat down on its defenceless sister. In tones of triumph he began to lecture his victim: “I’ve always wanted to do this to a nurse! THWACK! And to a teacher! THWACK, THWACK! And a nun! THWACK! And a policewoman! THWACK, THWACK! But you’ll have to do for all of them! THWACK, THWACK, THWACK!
The nurse had been too shocked, beaten and overpowered to protest, but now she started a litany she should have known would merely excite the youth and encourage him to more cruelty. “Please, please, Jean-Luc…THWACK! Shriek! Please, you are a good boy…THWACK, THWACK! Shriek! Please, no…THWACK! Shriek! My poor bottom, please…THWACK-SHRIEK-THWACK-SHRIEK!” The boy continued till he seemed to have exhausted himself. The nurse was sobbing pointlessly, her ample rump quivering with each sob.
The two listening men felt a need to respond: they met this by grabbing Cecile by the hair, pulling her face forward, and jerking a load of stinking cum into each of her big brown eyes.
“This is English too,” Jean-Luc announced as he began to bugger his victim vigorously. Jeffs and Barnes exchanged glances; Barnes whispered “Let him finish?” and his friend nodded. Soon Junior had shifted his attention lower and was pumping the nurse’s cunt doggy-fashion. At last he ran out of power, smacked the raped nurse familiarly on the rump and walked towards the fridge. At this point the two men came out of hiding, Jeffs now holding the gun and Barnes dragging out the bound girl followed by the boy. Junior’s expression changed from fear and guilt (were these policemen and what would happen to him?) to fascinated incredulity. “Who are you – thieves, rapists or kidnappers?” he asked.
“All three,” Jeffs replied. “We’re taking your sister and maybe your brother. However, we’re a bit delayed and we might as well amuse ourselves. We’ve not yet raped your prissy Miss of a sister. You will do it first!” He motioned with the gun to make clear the boy had no choice, but Jean-Luc showed no reluctance. Barnes freed the girl of her bonds from the hips down and threw her in front of her younger brother, who advanced with a cruel grin, his penis rising unrestricted through the unzipped gap in his jeans.
“No, Jean-Luc!” she squealed, genuinely shocked; but he dragged her by her long hair to the bed, threw her down alongside the exhausted nurse and spanked her soundly, causing further delicious squeals, before prising apart her neat little bottom-cheeks and buggering her . The watching men were afraid he might have run out of ammunition, but soon he shifted his aim lower, jeering that he’d always wanted to do this to her and pressing his swollen member between her secret pink lips. “I knew it – a virgin!” he yelled in triumph as she wailed and spasmed and bled. The men let him finish and it did not seem necessary to tie him up as they took their turns on the wailing girl.
Jeffs and Barnes exchanged a quiet word. Barnes used his mobile phone and was soon insisting that he MUST speak to Mr Ryzhkov himself, not his secretary or anyone else. After a few more words he whispered to his friend: “Ryzhkov is delighted by the sound of the girl – says he’ll dress her in a schoolgirl uniform. He’d like to have the twin too, as some of his party like young male slaves, but he doesn’t want any risk that the kid will be a rival for the girls’ pussies. You know what that means. He’ll take the nurse too. If she turns out to be not to his taste, he can always have her knocked on the head and put overboard. He hasn’t got a need for the young lad, but I’m sure we can find him somewhere to go.”
Jeffs agreed: “Our Jean-Luc is too much of a good lad to dispose of – just like us as kids, really. Now there’s one member of the party who hasn’t had anything to do,” he smiled, turning to the older boy. “Now it’s your turn!” The boy looked dully at his captor as most of his bonds were removed. “Get on with it!” Jeffs hissed. “Fuck your sister just as your brother has done!”
The boy found his voice. “No! Never! It would be wrong! I will not!” Barnes hit him hard in the face. “Do what you’re told, and quickly, or we’ll cut your cock off and make your sister eat it!” Now the girl joined in. “Please, Nicolas, for me and for our mummy and daddy do it. I do not mind. Do not torture our parents by getting yourself killed!” The boy seemed horrified by what she was saying: he stood a moment in thought and then quietly replied,
“Very well. I will do it.” But his cock would not rise. Jeffs barked at him that if he could not get it up he would lose it. To everyone’s amazement Cecile crawled up to him, unzipped his trousers and began to stroke his flaccid weapon until it rose, stiff and straining. With a miserable face but a willing cock the lad entered his twin sister and pumped her for some five minutes.
“At least he can do it,” his younger brother jeered. “I didn’t think he could!” None of them had noticed Jeffs drawing a long, sharp knife from his jacket – not till Barnes grabbed the lad and held him fast, his penis still deep in his sister. One expert slice and it was severed from the young man, though very much inside his sister. Nicolas screamed and fainted. Cecile was frozen in shock – but Jean-Luc’s face showed excitement and something close to hero-worship. The severed member was still pumping as Barnes shoved it yet further up the young girl’s vagina with his thumb. Then his phone rang: Jorge had arrived.
………………………………………………………………………………………….
It was a bright, sunny early summer’s day in the bustling and venerable city of Oxford when Amina Hussein got her first class honours degree. The beautiful Asian girl was radiant in gown and academic hat and the joy of her proud parents was spoilt only by mournful thoughts of Amina’s equally brilliant older sister who had been brutally kidnapped from her school in her last year before going to university. Their hopes for Yasmin had naturally transferred to Amina, though they had always known that Amina was the tougher, the more combative – traits that had shown in her unremitting hatred of the people who had taken away her beloved sister. She had declared several times she would get them; and her parents, while they did not altogether approve, acknowledged that her decision to take her Mathematics and computing expertise into a job in “government internet security” almost certainly had a lot to do with her aim of tracking the evil men down.
Now Amina, her beauty flowering, was standing in her resplendent gown holding her certificate while her admiring parents took photos.
“Mr and Mrs Hussein? Thames Valley Police. Nothing to worry about. Could we have a word?” They turned to see a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman in plain clothes holding out a badge. “Won’t interrupt you more than a second,” she called to Amina as she led the parents away.
Amina nodded. She was a bit puzzled, but maybe, just maybe, it might be news about Yasmin.
“Sorry about that, Ms Hussein, but we really did need a quick word in private and we didn’t want to worry your mum and dad,” said a comfortable-looking middle-aged man who stepped forward. “Inspector Astle – Sergeant Cox. Could you…?” Businesslike and concerned, Amina followed them.
“Is it about Yasmin?” she asked.
“Yes, but it’s a bit complicated.” She was right by the car before she had doubts.
“Just a minute – should I…”
“Yes, you should,” said Jeffs. Barnes’ punch in the lovely girl’s belly was barely perceptible, but it was enough.
“Woops! Too much Pimm’s, young lady!” said Jeffs loudly, for the onlookers, as he stuffed her in the back.
Carla thanked Amina’s parents, who in turn thanked her for giving them hope that Yasmin would soon be found alive and well. They walked back to find Amina missing.
In the car, Barnes had given Amina a few more punches just for fun, bloodying her nose and mouth, before pressing the sickly sweet-smelling rag to her mouth and nose. She struggled a little, just enough to please him, but very soon she was still. Limp and helpless in all her now pointless finery, she was just another capture for the experts.
Back home, the three sat round and watched her slowly revive. Her wrists were tied to a hook, holding her up almost straight but leaning forward, and she had lost her fine academic gown, but otherwise they had left her alone. It was much more interesting to do things to them when they were conscious.
Her eyes opened. They were still quite unfocussed, but they took in three figures. None of the figures were moving. They slowly became sharper.
“Hello, young lady,” said Jeffs, “welcome to your new life!” She looked at him as if she had never seen a man before.
“Where am I?” she asked.
“Somewhere in the West Midlands, so not all that far from where we took you – not that you’ll be going back.”
“Who are you?”
“You may call me the First Master. This is the Second Master and this is the Mistress.” Her eyes widened. She had had a thought. She was a star student, after all.
“You’re the people who kidnapped Yasmin!”
“Excellent! Well done! And you’re the extremely stupid young lady who said if you met us, you’d kill us. O.K. – you’ve met us. So kill us!”
“You…kidnapped…Yasmin!” It seemed to her three captors that she had not abandoned the idea of killing them, impractical though it was in the circumstances. He eyes were narrowed and staring at them with concentrated hatred.
“Yes, we did. Great fun. Good fuck, too!” said Barnes.
“WHERE IS SHE NOW?”
“In the Gulf. The Emirate of Jabarra. Not the best known of places, but quite select. Some very attractive ladies there, so I hear, and a most inventive ruler. You may be going there yourself. Would you like that?”
“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?”
“Ah – interesting you should want to know that. I’m delighted to say we can oblige you. Carla, the photos?”
Carla produced a large sheaf of photos, smiled at Amina and began to show her them one by one.
“Now, this is her just after the boys had brought her down. See the dart sticking in her bottom? Good shot, don’t you think? This is her in the van. Now this one shows her with two other young ladies rather underdressed, but you’re not interested in them, are you? Just in the one with the biggest tits and bush.” So she continued to chat as she showed Amina the record of the beating, humiliation, torture and rape of her beloved sister right up to “and here she’s eating shit. Not very well-mannered, is it? Must have been a bad upbringing. And finally…well, penultimately…here she is having her tits bored, and here she is yoked to three other slaves. That arrangement is called a Yamamoto.” Carla smiled at her pupil – but the pupil did not smile back. Amina was staring at the last picture with horror.
“YOU…DID…THAT…TO…HER?” Barnes laughed.
“WE…DID…THAT…TO…HER!”
“Bastards!” she spat. Frowning, Carla stepped forward and slapped her hard on the face, saying,
“Language!”
“This is a very ill-disciplined young lady, not properly brought up at all,” her husband mused. “We’ll have to put that right.” So saying he grasped both sides of the top of her pretty pale yellow blouse and ripped it apart so the small buttons went flying. This revealed a filmy white bra (translucent in parts) and a pair of superbly firm young tits. “Hmm…” he added, “smaller tits than your sister’s, even after we’d removed a bit of material by boring the holes. Still, quite nice and firm.” He grabbed both tits and squeezed.
Amina’s first defence to her lower half was a pencil skirt, simple and stylish, in such a dark navy-blue it could have been mistaken for black. It was quite tight, moulding her hips, thighs and flat stomach, and extended to her knees. The two men went round the back to confirm their impression that the tight skirt would beautifully present her pert, round, tight, taut athlete’s arse, an object so taut they imagined if someone pinched it, it would PING or BOING like a stringed instrument. Jeffs tried out the theory and got instead an angry little squeal. Displeased, he whacked it hard with his open palm and got a less ungenerous noise.
Barnes, meanwhile, had seen that the skirt had a zip down one hip, topped with some kind of catch. He grasped the material on either side of the catch and ripped it apart, finishing the job by unzipping the rest. A good tug brought the top down from waist to knees. The sight this revealed held the attention of all three trappers for a good minute. At the front a smooth, flat brown stomach, relieved only by an amusing little belly button, gave way to discreetly frilled apple-green panties, a mound that spoke of a tight little unshaven bush, and just the subtlest suggestion of a crease starting below the bush and running between her supersmooth legs. At the back, the delicate curve of her warm brown lower back disappeared into the panty-elastic just as the curve swelled out again. Under the apple-green her fine haunches shifted slightly around a magnetic central crease which had hungrily pulled the panty-material in. Just the slightest slivers of brown arsecheek escaped from the elastic just above her legs. Her calves and feet were sheathed in simple, girlish white socks.
Carla, with an air of ceremony, produced a vicious cane, making sure to shove it in the girl’s face. Her eyes widened and the two men laughed. She flicked her long, purple-painted fingernail against the girl’s face and walked slowly round to the back, grinning wolfishly as she drank in the fine maiden arse defenceless before her. She raised her arm. She brought it down across the pretty panties. Amina squealed and Carla laughed.
“Can’t even stand it with the panties in the way, can you, dear? Well, you have got a nasty surprise coming!” With that she gripped the fragile material and ripped it apart so it fell away like falling petals. The brave young dusky arse stared back at them. Choosing to delay its further punishment, Carla forced the legs apart and her hands burrowed into the girl’s lips – but met a barrier.
“Fucking virgin!” she announced. “Want me to break it, or will you?”
“I will,” her husband replied, “but do get on with the caning, dear. The young lady is waiting for it!”
So Carla raised the cane and brought it down twelve times on the pert brown rump till it was striped all over. The brave young girl did not scream or cry, though a series of little gasps and moans escaped her lips.
“Darling, you’re clearly being much too lenient. Let me!” Jeffs said. He took his time. He had often seen bigger arses, but rarely if ever a more enticing one. The cheeks were so tight they could squeeze a lemon. He might try that in a moment – but for now, he had to continue her caning. On a quite small rump like this, it was not possible to avoid the marks of his wife’s strokes, so he set out to cross each one neatly. The SPLLICK! Of the impact was sweet, as was the girl now squealing louder, but neither quite matched the way her tight little cheeks shifted against one another with each blow like a couple of frightened kids in Bluebeard’s lair. He bent low for the last two and cut them cunningly on to the softest, most sensitive part of her undercheeks. At last the dam burst and she wept. Satisfied, he handed over to his old friend.
Barnes looked at the girl and wondered where to hit her. There wasn’t any room on her arse any more, but no-one had given the treatment to her thighs or tits. He went for her smooth, shapely thighs first, striping each one down the back in a nice regular pattern. She was now not just sobbing but wailing. Better and better. He came round the front. She was wearing what had been an immaculate white blouse, chosen for her parents’ happiness at the ceremony, but now it was stained with her tears and with a sticky pinkish mark from some sweet Jeffs had been sucking. He ripped it viciously apart and drank in the view.
They weren’t big tits, but very, very firm, like the unripe apples on a much younger girl but a bit bigger and with big nipples. They looked as if they were some kind of weapons and might fire a volley any moment. He positioned his fingernails around one nipple and pinched, hard. She screamed. He laughed and gave her a long, jagged scratch down the side of the tit.
“You BASTARDS, you BASTARDS, you BAung!” she cried. Jeffs had hit her in the mouth. Blood dribbled out and she was silent. Barnes raised the cane and cut into the top of her undamaged tit. The animal wail amused them all. His next stroke was precisely zeroed in on her other nipple. That wail was even better. He gave her six more on the tits. As a final coup de grace he stepped back, eyeballed her, smiled, and gave her one across her face-cheeks and neat little nose.
“Are you two going to fuck her or just play with her all day?” Carla asked.
“What do you think, old pal?” Jeffs asked his friend. Barnes pretended to debate with himself.
“Hmmmm…I rather think we should fuck her,” he replied.
“All right with me,” said Jeffs.
Carla held her, stuffing her head and neck under her legs, holding them with a vice-like grip, while Jeffs approached her stuck-out arse. He guessed that a girl like this would never have been arse-fucked before. He forced her tight little cheeks apart and his iron-hard cock pushed in. the ring gave way before it was pulverized. Shit, he thought, she’s tight – but she’s too small! She’ll split apart! He yelled his triumph and she did not split. Something like moaning, maybe crying, was coming from between Carla’s legs. He hooked his fingers into her neat little bush and pushed at her pretty, girly cunt. It resisted too. Her sister had not been a virgin at eighteen, but this one was twenty-one and had gone right through university with a beautiful face, nice tits, superb legs, fantastic arse, and a whole cunt, and was a virgin!
“Virgin!” he yelled. “Not any more! Yeeee-haaaaaa!” The some time later, he said, “Old chap, the little slut is yours now. Just be careful with her arsehole – it’s too small.”
“I’ll widen it out a bit, then!” Barnes replied, and got to work. He was still raking her when Jeffs splatted a big shot of cum into her face, closing both big brown eyes. Then Barnes switched to her only-one-careful-owner cunt.
When they had finished with her she lay like a broken rag doll. Around her, the three trappers held a brief conference such as they had often held over catches before putting them on the open market or offering them to a favoured client. But the conclusion they reached was unique.
“O.K.”, said Barnes, “we’re not exactly short of money and the time has come to enjoy the proceeds of our hard work a bit more. We’re agreed we don’t sell her. We keep her as a slave, and she goes to my house, but you can have her on demand.”
“We can’t risk her escaping,” Carla pointed out. “She seems like a vicious little bitch. I bet she’ll try.”
“Oh, with a good collar and chain I think I can sort that,” Barnes replied, and so it was agreed.
So Amina, who had been so expensively fed and clothed and educated, found all that merely a preparation for the life of a sex slave in the hands of the people who’d kidnapped her sister, raped her and bored a hole in her tits before selling her. Barnes now had a young girlfriend, Jemmy, who he’d met through a BDSM group, and she was delighted with Amina.
“I’ve never got my hand up a Paki cunt,” she announced, putting that right at the first opportunity. “Wet, isn’t she? The slag! She’s enjoying it! Sam my dear Master, can I put the nipple clamps on her?”
“Of course, lovebird!” Barnes said.
Amina was fitted with a thick steel collar and chain, the far end of which was generally hooked up somewhere, plus a big steel ball on another chain round her ankle. Sometimes they added other things like a coil of wire round the base of her tit with another steel ball attached, doing it while she was on all fours and then forcing her to stand up. She spent a lot of time on all fours, conducting Jemmy around the house, carrying trays or boxes on her back and sucking Barnes’ cock. The house was surrounded by a large garden and was some distance from other houses, so there was little risk of the odd noise alerting a possible rescuer. Jeffs and Carla were frequent visitors. Barnes was proud of his success in training her, but Carla warned,
“She’s not broken yet. I can see something in her sly little eye. Keep her carefully.” He nodded agreement, but was not much bothered. That hardware would keep her in order even if Carla was right and she was still rebellious. He was wrong.
He had unhooked her chain to take her for a walk, but as he had done so she had slipped. Annoyed, he stepped forward to grab her hair and yank her head up as he had done before. This time there was a difference. She thumped her hard little head into his groin. His cock had already been swelling at the thought of her punishment. He went down. Quicker than he could have imagined, she crawled across, twisted round to sit on him, grasped her leg that carried the steel ball and swung the ball into his head. That was the last thing he remembered for some time. She could have killed him, but her priority was to escape.
She had no way, though, of removing the collar or ball. She crawled, dragging ball and chain with her, until she reached the front door. To open it she needed to stand up, but that was no problem. Only walking was impossible. Outside the door was a gravelled drive and green gardens. Birds were singing and she even saw a white butterfly wavering past. Freedom! At the end of the drive would be a road where someone would see her and surely rescue her or call the police. But she knew she would take some time to get that far and she might not succeed if he revived or one of his friends came. Slowly, painfully, she started to drag herself over the gravel away from the hateful house. Bits of gravel stuck into her soft flesh. She reached some short grass but did not stray far from the drive, for it would offer the quickest route to safety. At every painful, hard-won shuffle forward she half-expected to hear the alarm given or the sound of the beast man’s feet on the gravel. She supposed she could have killed him, but she could not bring herself to do such a thing, even to him.
But nothing stopped her until she reached the tall iron gates. Through them she could see pavement, road and an avenue of trees on the far side. She lifted herself up. Perhaps the gates would be locked. But they were not. She was through. She had got out of the realm of her evil captor. Now, please, PLEASE, a car would come or a pedestrian or cyclist with a phone. She heard the roar of an approaching large vehicle. She stood up. The petrol tanker came round the corner. She waved and shouted. The driver saw her, a beautiful naked girl with chains and a collar, and almost lost control as he stared at her. If the giant vehicle had mounted the pavement she would have been squashed. But he regained control and his senses. He drove on past. She wanted to cry, but told herself she had lost nothing. Another vehicle would come and she would not only be free and safe, but be able to get the evil captors of her sister caught and punished.
A car was coming, but from the other direction. At first she thought it was an army vehicle, but soon she saw that it was an old converted jeep. The young man driving it saw her, slowed, and pulled across to her side of the road. He hardly looked more than a kid, younger than her. She desperately hoped he wouldn’t get hurt. He opened the door.
“Are you in trouble? Perhaps I help?” he had a distinct accent, maybe French or German.
“Please! Help me! I need to escape from here!” Amina replied.
“Get in!” he said. “I turn around to make it easy.” Nervously, she looked back down the drive, but there was still no sign of her tormentor. Now the passenger door was right by her and the lad was lifting her to help her in. She smiled at him.
“Please for your own safety get away from here fast! Then take me to the Police! Please!”
“O.K.,” he said, and hit her precisely on the point of the chin.
The jeep drew up right outside Barnes’ door. Amina was groggy but not unconscious.
“If you’ve hurt him you’re dead meat, bitch!” the lad snarled. But just then the door opened and a groggy-looking Barnes looked out.
“Jean-Luc! And you’ve got her! Well done!” he cried.
“Just in the right place at the right time,” the young man replied. “The stupid bitch got in the jeep!”
“Yes, not much brain in there,” Barnes agreed. “Could you bring her in? Thanks. You really have a great future in this business.”
Jean-Luc set up Amina in front of her Master, who stared into her eyes. She could not return the cold gaze. He slapped her face hard. She flinched but said nothing. He hit her in the mouth, knocking out two or three teeth and drawing blood. She moaned a little.
“You know what this is for, don’t you, slag?” he asked. She hesitated. Then she replied:
“Yes.”
“For rebelling. For hitting me. You were a very stupid girl, weren’t you? WELL, WEREN’T YOU?”
“Um, erm, yes.”
“Say sorry!”
“Sorry.”
“Say ‘Master, my cunt is yours!’”
“Master, my cunt is yours.”
“It was very clever of you to catch my sister and bore holes through her tits!”
“It was very clever of you to catch…ur, HUR, HUR, HUR, HUR, HUR! Ur…”
“Shut up! Say the whole sentence!” Her pleading, bleeding face stared at him, searching for mercy. She found none.
“It was very clever of you to catch my sister and bore holes in her tits.”
“Please do the same to me!”
“Please do the same to me.”
“Sorry, your tits aren’t big enough. I could slice your nipples off, though. Would you like that?” Of course Amina wouldn’t like that at all, but she was confused. If she said no, would he punish her? If she said yes, would he take it literally? Would her reply make any difference anyway? There was no way of telling. She was an intelligent girl, though, and still resourceful.
“Whatever you want, Master.” Barnes smiled.
“No, I don’t think we’ll do that yet a while. Jean-Luc here hasn’t thrashed or fucked you yet, though, and we must put that right, mustn’t we?”
“Yes, Master.”
It was best part of an hour before the young Frenchman had finished, leaving Amina’s arse a mass of throbbing welts, her cunt as sore as her arse and her face dripping with tears. The two men sat down in front of her to discuss her fate.
“We can’t risk her escaping again,” said Barnes. “I was much too easy with her. What can we do to make her safe? Could kill her, of course, but I’d rather not do that quite yet.”
Jean-Luc was eager to make a suggestion.
“In your magnificent Shakespeare, in “Titus Andronicus”, there are two men who rape a Roman girl and then because the don’t want her to tell about them, but they like the idea of keeping her alive, they cut out her tongue and cut off her hands and feet! Of course, the bitch finds some way of telling her loving dad who did it, nodding her head or something. But if we did all that to this cunt she’d never get out of the house. We can cauterize the sliced bits.”
Barnes thought carefully about the suggestion. Then he reached a conclusion.
“That’s an excellent idea, Jean-Luc. You’ll go far in this business, that’s for sure. There’s just one argument against it. I don’t think I’d much enjoy fucking her handless and footless. Shall I ring Tony and Carla to see how they’d feel about it?”
“No, no! She’s yours and we should not do something to her that reduces your pleasure! Let me think again.” But it was Barnes who came up with the next suggestion.
“Could have her on two chains, one very long so she’d never need to be taken off a chain. That’d work.”
“I am sorry, Mr Barnes, and we will do that if you like, but in my opinion that is somewhat boring. I think we can do something to her more interesting.”
“I’m afraid I have to agree. Any ideas, or shall we ask Tony and Carla?”
“Let me think a moment more.”
It was five minutes, five minutes in which he was watched with interest by Barnes and with fear by Amina, before Jean-Luc spoke again.
“I think I have it! It is what you call a technological fix, but also beautiful!”
“So?”
“You taught me that position for fit, slim captives, the one with the girl’s head stuck between her legs. Why not make it permanent with metal clamps? She can still be on a chain and she can still walk a little, but she’ll never escape. Here, let me sketch it!”
Whe he viewed the skilful sketch, Barnes was persuaded. Jean-Luc ordered the equipment to careful specifications from Kadar, and five weeks later it arrived. Kadar, in fact, had been impressed and intrigued to the extent of offering Jean-Luc partnership in producing more of the “JL harnesses”.
For the fitting of Amina’s harness, Jeffs and Carla were present. Two wide half-collars were fixed round her thighs and clamped together. Nuts were tightened with spanners. A new collar, connected to the thigh-collars by struts, was fitted round her slim neck. She was now held in position, a position in which she would spend the rest of her life – but for Barnes it was not quite enough.
“I’m going for option B,” he told Jean-Luc. “Can’t be too careful.”
Jean-Luc picked up the drill, checked the equipment and his positioning with a craftsman’s precision, and drilled a hole in the brown girl’s upper thigh. He pushed a steel bolt through it and through holes in the harness and secured it tightly. Exchanging smiles with the others while the girl wailed and moaned, he repeated the procedure on the other thigh.
“Well done, young man. She’ll never get out of that!” said Barnes.
“What’s really comical about this is that when she shits or pisses it’ll all go down her face!” Carla giggled.
“I’ll hose her down from time to time,” Barnes explained. “No doubt in a couple of years or so I’ll tire of her and then I’ll invite you all over for the most fantastic barbecue!
Amina watched him from under her arse and cunt with defeated eyes.
End
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