1
'It's a great idea,' Megan said in the student common room at eleven o'clock. Megan had an air of authority about her. Had the School believed in such things, she would have been head girl. She looked the part from top to toe: from her crisply-coiffured hair to her expensive Italian leather heels. In between, she wore a smartly-tailored skirt, which came all the way to mid-calf and an expensive cotton cardigan over a silk blouse. She was one of a small band at the private girls' school who had already turned eighteen, giving her an air of status. Her three friends, Kristen, Angela and Charlotte had also turned eighteen - in fact all three were marginally older than Megan - giving the four friends the aura of an elite. It didn't hurt that all four were tall and blond.
* * * * *
'I'm not doing it,' said Kristen at the end of a vigorous game of hockey. Gone were the days when hockey players dressed like professional virgins with divided skirts to ensure that no-one could ever get a glimpse of their panties. Kristen, Angela, Charlotte and Sarah were wearing short sports skirts that showed vast amounts of their perfect legs. Kristen noticed a slightly younger boy, staring at hers when he walked by. She tugged at the hem of the skirt. But it had no effect. 'It'll be cold,' she added, 'and dark.'
'Keep going, girls,' a voice exclaimed from the middle of the field.
Shit, Megan thought. It was Miss De Guise and she was looking at them again. It was bad enough having a PE teacher who thought that hockey in any weather was the key to fitness and health. But one who ogled them while they did it was much worse. She was said by some to be some kind of aristocrat, a descendant of Baron Henry De Guise. 'Oh yea,' Megan commented when she first heard. 'I bet.'
* * * * *
'It's not as if you didn't know the forfeit,' Charlotte declared as she dried herself vigorously after the post-hockey shower. She already wore her panties and she was keen to get the rest of her clothes on before that pervert De Guise came in to see how things were going.
Wrapping her large towel sarong-like from above her breasts, so that it covered all that matters, Kristen sighed.
'Now, girls,' Miss De Guise said. 'Hurry up and get at it.'
'Get at it,' Megan giggled. 'Why does she always say that?'
'It's our last chance,' Angela contributed, as she pulled on her bra. 'My mother says that someone has bought the mansion. If we don't go there tonight, it'll be our last chance to be there on Halloween night.
'Who'd want to buy the old mansion,' Kristen asked, as she pulled on her shirt. 'It's so big that it'll need an army of domestic staff to look after it.'
'Someone rich,' Megan suggested. Then she changed her tone. 'Perhaps we could get jobs there as scullery maids.'
'You mean wash floors and serve at table?' Angela asked, fastening her skirt. 'Not exactly what I had in mind as a career.'
'No, but you'd look cute in the uniform - little black dress, white frilly apron, high heels.'
'High heels?'
'Well, isn't that what French maids wear?'
'French. But I'm not French.'
'Shssh,' Kristen warned.
'What are you talking about, girls,' Miss De Guise interrupted.
'Nothing, Miss De Guise,' Charlotte said.
They giggled when she went away
* * * * *
'You have to do it,' Angela urged after they had finished their lunch. After hockey, Angela had changed into a short skirt, teamed with a tight polo-neck sweater, which stretched pleasingly across her full breasts. Her long blond hair was pulled back and tied in a bunch which dangled down to the middle of her back.
* * * * *
'After all, you did lose the bet,' Charlotte reasoned when they were once again in the common room. 'You agreed to a forfeit if I could untie myself in five minutes. And untie myself I did.'
'So now you have to pay,' Angela chipped in. 'A wager is a wager.'
'OKAY,' Kristen suddenly blurted out. 'I'll do it: just to hear the end of it.'
'Twelve hours?' Megan asked.
'Yes, all twelve hours: eight AM to eight PM.'
'Fine,' Charlotte announced. 'We'll meet you at seven thirty tonight and take you there.'
* * * * *
'It'll be a whiz,' Megan said, when she, Angela and Charlotte were alone in her house. She held up the witch's outfit. It comprised a black dress and a hat. 'Do you like it? There's this too. This time she held up a witch's mask. It covered the whole face and had a hideous wart on its chin. 'Well?'
'Nice,' Charlotte conceded. 'How about this?' She held up a werewolf outfit that also had a mask. 'Don't you think that it will just scare her to death?'
'Or this,' Angela said. She held up a Frankenstein costume. That too had a face-fitting mask. This one was complete with neck bolts.
Megan walked over to a large wardrobe and prised a pair of worn blue denims from the tightly packed clothes therein. She went to a draw and fished out a T-shirt, a sweater and a pair of socks. Then she disappeared into the en-suite bathroom. When she reappeared, she was dressed in that outfit. She sat on the bed, pushed her feet into a pair of pixie boots, and laced them up.
Angela and Charlotte had changed into similar clothes. 'Right,' said Megan, let's deliver Kristen to the haunted house. Then, we can come back here and change into our Halloween outfits. Then it show time.'
* * * * *
'I don't like this one little bit,' Kristen announced as she surveyed the living room in the haunted mansion. The house wasn't really haunted. But it was huge, with three wings, and at least two dozen rooms on the first and second floors and more rooms on the third floor. It was deserted, but not derelict. So, it was easy to believe that it WAS haunted. It was decidedly spooky. There was enough electricity to heat and light the house nicely, but Megan had rushed around the building taking the light bulbs out in the rooms that Kristen was likely to use. It wasn't just that it made the haunting experience more realistic. It stopped someone in the town seeing the lights and calling the police.
The living room was lit by a couple of candles, with half a dozen standing by as replacements. There was a sleeping bag on the old sofa and Kristen, dressed in jeans, jumper and leather jacket, over a black bra and black panties, looked very apprehensive.
'Don't worry,' Angela consoled, as the three prepared to leave. 'It'll be a cinch.'
* * * * *
'How do I look?' Megan asked when she emerged from her bathroom to parade in front of her friends for a second time that evening.
She looked good. The hat sat jauntily on top of her long blond hair which she had put up in a bun. The bodice of the witch's dress hugged her shapely chest. Its skirt fell to her calves. But its hem was cut in a severe zigzag. So that in places to came only to the tops of her thighs. Megan had coupled it with black opaque tights and black shoes. She wore a black woollen sweater under the dress top for warmth, but the flowing top hid that completely.
'It came from a novelty shop round the corner,' Megan explained. I was rather worried by the skirt. It's worryingly short, don't you think? But the rest is great isn't it?'
Angela smiled. It did show a lot of leg, but Megan had great legs. She wondered if Megan was quite abashed as she seemed.
Megan had also darkened her eyes. So, she looked like a witch even without the mask. Even though the werewolf and Frankenstein were not ready, she put on the mask.
'Then there's this,' Megan said. 'It came with it.' Megan pushed something under the mask. Then she spoke. The voice that came out sounded nothing like Megan at all. It was more like a metallic witch's voice.
'Do you mind if I disappear while you change?' Megan asked in her new, strange voice. 'I've got a quick errand to run.'
As soon as Angela and Charlotte had consented, Megan picked up a package and disappeared.
2
What a nuisance, Daniel McGruder thought when the door bell rang. Not another trick and treat. Where the hell was Cathy? That's what came from having his eighteen-year old daughter visit him. She was never round when he wanted her. In many ways she took after her mother, his ex-wife - a pain in the royal arse.
Saving the excel entry on his laptop, Daniel went to the door, picking up a jar of candy in the process. He expected to see a child. But instead he found a woman in a witch's costume.
'Trick or treat,' she said coolly, in a strange witch-like metallic voice.'
'Cathy?' he asked.
'Hardly,' the witch said.
No. He looked pleasingly at the witch's breasts. They were larger and rounder than Cathy's. Daniel found his eyes drifting down to the expanse of well-formed leg exposed by the outfit. Very nice! "Trick or treat?' he offered.
'Not exactly,' the witch said. She produced a small sub-nose gun.
'What the fuck…' Daniel started. But he didn't finish.
'Can I come in?' she said. 'It'll be to your advantage.'
'Do I have any choice?' he asked.
'Not if you know what's good for you.'
McGruder did a mock bow and invited the woman in. The witch wore a black dress, a conical witch's hat, and a mask which hid her face. She stepped into the hall way of the large house and brandished a brown envelope.
'You live alone, Mr McGruder?'
'Yes.'
'And is business good?'
'Where is this going? Do you know where my daughter is?'
'Of course, Mr McGruder.' She reached into the envelope and pulled out a picture, which had clearly started as a jpeg, courtesy of a digital camera.
'Here you go.'
The woman passed McGruder a head-and-shoulders picture of a woman. She was beautiful, with piercing blue eyes and blond hair. She may have had perfect lips too. But they were concealed by a large swathe of medical tape. Her cheeks were puffed up, suggesting that there was something in her mouth and there were tears trickling down her cheeks. Only the top of her shoulders and chest was visible, but it was clearly bare, except for two white vertical straps widely placed in her shoulders. Her bra straps, minus her shirt.
'Cathy.'
'Of course, Mr McGruder. Another?'
Daniel didn't really get a choice. The witch passed him a second photo. This one was full-length. Cathy was standing on bound legs, her lower limbs bound with thin cord at ankles, shins, below the knees, above the knees and at mid and upper thighs. Her arms were behind her with her shoulders dragged back to give her torso an unnatural look. She was still gagged with the medical tape, and she was wearing just her bra and panties. The bra was heavily underwired and although it had three-quarter cups, only the lower part of the cup was opaque. The tiny white panties were brief and string-sided.
'You bitch,' McGruder hissed.
'I take that as a compliment, McGruder,' the witch declared. 'That's why I brought you these.'
She reached into the envelope and produced the very same bra and panties that Cathy McGruder had worn in the photograph.
'I like my captives to be naked, McGruder,' she added.
Daniel McGruder reached out to take his daughter's underwear form the witch.
"Oh no, Mr McCruder, I have a use for these." She stuffed Cathy's white panties into her pocket. The as if having second thoughts, she tossed the white bra to him. "I'll tell you what. You can keep Cathy's bra.
She laughed a nasty metallic laugh.
'Your daughter has a very fine body indeed. In fact, some women would pay a small fortune to a cosmetic surgeon to have breasts like hers. Maybe, I'll choose her as a bed companion for the night. See how well she uses her mouth.'
'Choose? You've others.'
'I will have, McGruder. When I hit a town I like to snatch four or five women. The going price for each is two hundred grand. I know you've got that amount. You have a choice. Pay up and I'll release Cathy. Don't and she gets taken through the channel tunnel in the boot of a car and sold to white slavers. Within a week, she'll be serving some oil sheik in the middle east.'
McGruder looked stunned. 'How will I get the money to you?'
'Just get it ready. I'll be in touch,' the witch said, shutting the door behind her as she left.
3
Angela and Megan were changed into their Halloween outfits by the time Megan returned.
'Let's go,' Megan announced immediately. 'We've haunting to do.'
'Ooooh,' Angela and Charlotte said in union.
'Ooooh,' Megan joined in.
The drive to the old house took twenty minutes, even going at the speed that Megan drove. Charlotte sat beside her. The near-non-existent skirt of Megan's dress was pushed aside as the witch shifted her feet from clutch to break, leaving her long slender thighs even more fully on display. Charlotte found herself glancing at them more than once and wondered why. Angela sat in the rear constantly shifting her position nervously.
'How long do you think it'll take Kristen to crack?' Charlotte asked.
'Depends on the quality if the haunting,' replied Megan. 'Although I bet we can be at the Pizza Express by ten o'clock.'
'With any luck,' she'll have already decided to leave,' Angela commented.
'Not our Kristen,' said Charlotte knowingly. 'She'll take some persuading. She may have been reluctant to go. But once she gets dug in, she'll stick with it.'
Seen from the road, the house was in complete darkness. Megan had already sussed out a place to park in a feel a hundred yards or so from the main entrance. Driving up the long driveway would be hard without lights and even then, Kristen might hear the tyres on the gravel.
'How are we going to play this?' Charlotte asked as the locked the doors to their vehicle. It would be no use heading off for pizza only to find that their car had been stolen.
'You mean do we do team haunting? Or is it an individual event?' Megan paraphrased.
They made their way towards the front of the house, keeping to the shadows and off the gravel as far a possible. It was not until they were close that there was any evidence that there was anyone in the house. Even then the light was barely visible.
Charlotte had left a rear door unlocked. They were counting on the fact that Kristen would not have checked.
They had conceived a plan. If all three haunted together, they might be too noticeable. And besides they needed to come at Kristen from two sides. If all three haunted individually, they might fall over each other. So they decided that Charlotte and Angela should work together and Megan would haunt alone. It suited all three of them. There was a large fireplace in one of the outer rooms. They agreed to meet up there after fifteen minutes to compare notes.
As soon as they entered, they divided. Before either Charlotte or Angela knew it, Megan was gone.
* * * * *
The haunted house was certainly spooky. Kristen found it really hard to settle. Every time an owl hooted, or cat meowed in the background, she sat up and looked around her. She wondered if she would climb into her sleeping bag. A series of bangs startled her. Then suddenly she guessed. It was those three. They would return to scare her. Well good. Perhaps they could get on with it. Then she could go home.
The candles threw out a penumbra of shadow across the room. Without warning, it changed shape. Kristen looked up to see a witch flit across the doorway. She wondered which one of them it was. But as the witch was masked, she couldn't tell.
'Megan, Angela, Charlotte?' she called out.
But the witch didn't answer.
Kristen got up and moved to the door. As she did so the witch came towards her. She felt a blast of pain in her midriff and fell to the floor.
* * * * *
The stun gun had rendered Kristen helpless, but not unconscious. So she was fully aware of everything as the witch dragged her into the rear room of the haunted mansion. She was aware of hands pulling her jumper and T-shirt over her head. She was aware of fingers unfastening the belt around her waist and of her denims being lowered to her ankles. She was aware of jeans, socks and shoes being pulled off in one go.
By the time she was tied up, she was fully functioning. But by then it was too late. A large mass of cloth had been stuffed in her mouth as a gag and medical tape had been pressed hard over her lips. Her wrists were tied above her head, so that she dangled from the ceiling leaving her on tiptoe and her ankles had been bound. The witch traced the contours of Kristen's black underwired lace bra, before turning to the tiny black panties.
'Nice,' she croaked metallically. 'Does your mother know about your choice of lingerie?'
* * * * *
The werewolf growled in a werewolf manner. Charlotte and Angela were careful to keep out of sight of the room where they had left Kristen, and could not see in. But they knew that she could hear. And they knew that she was in there. They could hear her moving around.
They pulled back form the door, worried that Kristen might come and investigate and find them, waited three or four minutes and then went again. Once more the werewolf made werewolf noises, but this time there was no noise back.
They lack of sound alerted them to the possibility of a counter attack. Perhaps Kristen was herself hiding just inside the room, ready to pounce. They drew back completely this time, intent on moving around to the other entrance. A quick haunt there and they went off to meet Megan.
* * * * *
Cathy McGruder shivered uncontrollably. Whether from cold or fear, she was not sure.
The only thing that gave her any hope for release was that the witch had not shown her face. She had stripped her, bound her and gagged her, and in all that time, the witch had not removed her mask. Surely that meant that she was to be freed as soon as the ransom was paid.
* * * * *
"Gotcha," "the witch said.
Angela turned around suddenly when she felt Megan's hand on her shoulders. Her friend seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
"Shss," Charlotte whispered. "She'll hear!"
"I doubt it," Megan said knowingly.
"What do you mean?" Angela asked.
"I peeped," Megan replied. "She didn't appear to be there."
"But we heard her," Charlotte said.
"Perhaps," said Megan, as if unconvinced.
"MMMMPPHH."
"What the hell was that?" Charlotte asked urgently.
"Not sure," said Megan
Instinctively, both Charlotte and Angela dashed forward. Then there was a noise behind them. The turned to find that Megan had gone.
* * * * *
Kristin, dressed in just her black bra and black panties, shivered.
She had never felt so helpless in her life, and it took all her concentration just to stop retching.
The witch had tied her so that only her toes touched the ground. The ropes around her wrists were desperately tight and the binding cinched. This left no possibility of slack and with it the chance of getting the balls of her feet on to the floor. Her legs were squeezed together, courtesy of ropes at the tops of her thighs, a mid thigh, above her knees, below her knees and at her ankles. She was gagged just as thoroughly. Her mouth was full of coarse cloth, so that her cheeks bulged with the volume. Then her lips had been sealed with three pieces of medical cloth. Just in case, she rubbed the tape off, everything had been fixed in place with a long elastic bandage, wound round and round her head.
* * * * *
'Now where's she disappeared to?' Angela said.
'Search me,' Charlotte replied.
They had no sooner arrived at the haunted house, when Megan announced her intention to do some serious haunting. They had lost sight of her for a minute and now she was no where to be seem.
'Oh, well, Ms Werewolf,' Angela said, 'let's get to it.'
* * * * *
'How are you doing?' the witch asked.
Cathy McGruder bit into her gag she would have looked at her tormentor had she not been blindfolded.
The unseen witch plucked at one of Cathy's pubic hairs.
'You look so cute,' she said, needing Cathy's left breast, 'part of me hopes that your father won't pay the ransom and I get to keep you.'
The unseen witch plucked another hair.
'How do you like your gag?'
'Nggnnnn, ngggnnn,' Cathy groaned.
'Oh don't be like that. After all, they're your panties.'
* * * * *
'I can't find them anywhere,' Charlotte announced. Thirty minutes looking for both Kristen and Megan had failed entirely. 'I'm taking this off.' She pulled off the werewolf mask.
'Yes,' Angela concurred. 'What is the fun of spooking, when there's no-one to spook.' Soon her Frankenstein mask lay on the sofa next to its lycanthropic counterpart.
'You know,' Charlotte said, 'perhaps it's us being spooked. Perhaps they are in it together. A bit of turning the tables.'
'So? What should we do? We could clear off and leave them to it.'
'Or we could counter attack.'
'Problem is that if we stay together, they can easily avoid us. But if we split up and you go to the right and I go to the left…'
'…we'll encircle them'
'Exactly!'
They both picked up their masks.
'Right, let's do it.'
* * * * *
Cathy McGruder thought that she heard a noise to her left. It was the sound of a person, and it wasn't the sound of her captor. Without thinking she twisted her body around in the direction of the sound. A shaft of pain immediately drove into her innards as the strap between her legs was jolted. Biting at the large gag in her mouth, she lay still. With the blind squeezing her upper face it was all quite redundant.
* * * * *
Angela hadn't looked in the room at the back of the house before. Gingerly, she took hold of the handle and turned. She knew that at the very worst, Megan and Kristen would leap out at her and scare her out of her wits. But the anticipation of that sent shivers down her spine.
'Well here goes,' she said out loud to herself as she went into the room.
Kristen was there all right. But it was not as she expected. Her friend had been stripped to her bra and panties and then tied so that she all but hung from the ceiling with only the tips of her toes on the floor. A large piece of medical tape was glued to her lips and it clearly held something very large in her mouth.
Without thinking, Angela rushed to free her friend. It was the wrong thing to do. Before she got there, a figure appeared from the semi gloom and came towards her. There was no chance to fight - or even scream. A burst of pain fired through her body as the stun gun hit her stomach. Soon the Frankenstein costume had gone, as had her shoes, socks and T-shirt, and she was in her bra and panties trussed up side by side with her friend, perched on tiptoes. She retched as a large lump of cloth was stuffed in her mouth, to be sealed in place with tape.
'Two down, one to go,' the witch said in her artificial voice as she left.
* * * * *
The werewolf crept through the darkness oblivious to the fate that had befallen its friends, who were currently bound and gagged in just their bras and panties.
After a bit, the werewolf removed its mask and reverted to being just Angela.
'Okay, guys, Angela shouted. I give up. Kristen you're let off. Let's go for a pizza.'
'We're in here,' Megan said.
'Thank goodness,' Charlotte said. 'I think I'm ready to go home.'
As she stepped into the room, a surge of pain hit her in the ribs.
'And that makes three,' she heard as she blacked out.'
* * * * *
The young woman was cold in just her underwear. Not that there was much of that. She wore a lacy black bra made of figure-hugging lycra and a pair of matching string-sided panties. For the last hour her nipples had been puckered up with cold so that their outline was clearly visible through the cups of her bra.
The shuffle across the room on her bottom had helped keep her warm - even if it had nearly torn off her lower nether garment - and the effort she had put in to work the ropes around her wrists against the sharp edge behind her had the same effect.
At last the rope behind her began to part. She gave a few furious rubs against the metal edge, aware that as she did so, her large breasts bounced up and down in their flimsy housing. Then the ropes parted. She sat still for a moment, fighting to take in enough breath through her mouth, and ruing that the heavy gagging she had experienced had made her efforts so hard.
Then, as soon as she could, she worked the medical tape from her lips, finding it hard to get an edge with numb fingers, and then spat out the mass of packing from her mouth.
'Shit, shit, shit,' she said, more to see if her voice still worked than for any practical reason.
The young woman untied her ankles and went over to the door. She knew that she was upstairs. She had come up to the first floor just before she had been seized. If she shouted out, she was just as likely to attract her attacker than summon help. Her plan of action was obvious. She would go straight down the stairs and out of the front door and get the police.
'Clothes?' she said next. But there were none. Her assailant must have taken her clothes away after she removed them. She would have to venture out in just her bra and panties.
Of course, that depended upon the door's not being locked. And locked it was. Nevertheless, there was still hope. There was an internal door in the adjacent wall leading to the room next door.
The young woman tried the handle gingerly and as it gave way opened it and slipped through.
The sight that greeted her sent a shiver up her spine. It was a large room, considerably larger than the one that she had come from, and it contained several large cupboards and four tables.
Lying on one of the tables, secured to it by a neck leash was a naked woman.
Naked that is unless one counted the leather sheaths that held her arms behind her back with the elbows touching, and the companion sheaths that gripped her legs room toe to the tops of her thighs. In addition, she wore a leather gag and blindfold. She was leashed to the bed by a chain.
The young woman rushed over to the captive. Now she could that a narrow leather strap ran from the tip of the arm sheath, tight between her legs and up to a equally tight strap around her waist. The crotch and waist straps were united with a single padlock. Clipped to the padlock was a small card. There was just enough light to read these. Cathy McGruder, it said, aged 18, blonde, 36C-24-34.
Cathy McGruder? She placed her easily. Cathy was at her school. A minute's perusal told her that all of Cathy's restraining straps were padlocked on, even the gag and blindfold. There was no way any of the sheaths would come off without either a key, or a very sharp knife. She couldn't believe how tightly everything had been applied. The strap running downwards from her navel appeared to be cutting her in two. She reached out and touched it in an attempt to prise it out of where it was so deeply embedded. A deep moan from the woman on the bed caused her to pull her hand away, as if it had been burned.
The woman went across to the table. It was cluttered with bits and bobs. On it lay a number of other cards. The woman rushed over to it, her breasts shaking in their flimsy covering as she did so. Picking up the pile of cards, she looked at them one by one in mounting horror. The final card recorded her name as well as her hair colour, age and measurements. She cringed when she saw he last of these 34D-24-34. How could the woman know? Unless …
A sound just outside the room caught her attention. There was no way out. Looking desperately around the room, she decided to hide behind one of the large cupboards.
* * * * *
Cathy McGruder struggled to get comfortable. But she was unable to do so. She lay on her side in the room that had been her prison since around mid-day, quite naked. Her arms were behind her, squeezed into leather sheath that crushed her elbows together. Her legs were in a similar sheath, which held her feet en point. That would have stopped her running away. But to make sure her kidnapper has leashed her to the bed head by the simple process of locking a collar around her neck and linking a chain to it. But there were worse aspects to Cathy's bondage. One was the strap from her finger tips that looped between her legs, through her vulva, and over her clitoris to attach itself to a waist cinch. The second was the waist cinch itself. It as pulled desperately tightly around her narrow middle. The third was a strap from the upper point of the arm sheath. There were others around and over her shoulders to keep the sheath up. But this one went over her breasts at nipple level, squeezing hard those soft mounds. A padded leather blindfold covered Cathy's eyes. Finally, there was the gag. It comprised a leather mask which covered her mouth and held a large rubber ball in her oral cavity. The ball was so large that Cathy was convinced that she would soon choke. Even then, there was an accompanying piece of cloth in her mouth. And the gag was padlocked on. Even if she could free her arms from the arm sheath, she would never get the gag off unaided.
* * * * *
Angela's toes were beginning to ache. Her arms and shoulders were not far behind. The gag threatened to choke her. And she hated being dressed in just the skimpiest of bras and panties.
She struggled with the rope around her wrists. She could only hope that she could get it off before Megan came back.
How could Megan do this to them? She seemed so cold - so dispassionate. If it hadn't been for the outfit and mask, she might have questioned if it was Megan at all.
She needn't have worried about getting free. Megan returned all too swiftly and lowered each of her friends to the ground. Threatening them with the stun gun, she released Kristin's and Angela's hands and refastened tem behind her back. Then she leashed their necks and dragged them upstairs to the room where Cathy McGruder lay trussed up on the bed.
* * * * *
She watched in horror from her hiding place behind the cupboard while Kristin and Angela were prepared. All the time she was afraid that she would make some noise and attract attention. Surely, their only hope was that she could free her friends and they could call the police.
Meanwhile, the witch had set about stripping her victims. She cut their bras off first. And then their panties. She removed their gags, but before either eighteen-year old could utter a sound she was re-gagged. Each had the other's panties stuffed in her mouth. Each then received a leather plug, attached to a harness of straps that was padlocked on. Cable ties pulled their elbows together behind their backs and then replaced the ropes on their wrists. Subtle leather sheaths went over their arms and were padlocked on, complete with straps pulled so tightly between their legs that both felt that they were about to get an involuntary clitorectomy.
The bra-and-panty-clad woman hiding behind the wardrobe watched as leg sheaths were added and each was pushed to the floor and leashed to a ring.
'There we are girls,' the witch said. 'Three of you here and one next door. At two hundred grand a piece, I am only one cunt sort of a cool million. Not bad for a night's work, eh. Now I have three of you nicely naked and in sheaths, I think your friend can join us. Don't go away.'
Kristin and Angela were strapped so tightly to their beds, that both had to strain their necks to watch what was going on. The witch was without her mask and neither could believe that a person that they knew so well could treat them this way. It was monstrous.
The witch had moved to the door. But she stopped and checked herself, casting a glance down her long shapely legs.
'Perhaps before I collect your friend I'll change out of this ridiculous outfit,' she announced. 'I seem to be showing rather too much leg, excellent legs though they are.'
She stooped, and slid down the zipper on the inside of her right boot, before tugging he boot from her foot. She repeated the action with her left boot before straightening. Her witches outfit went over her head in one. She stood in a black bra and dark pantyhose over barely concealed black panties. She tugged off the hose and wound it over her legs and feet. She went to her holdall and unzipped it.
'I am glad I brought jeans,' she said to the assembled named company, pulling the faded blue denim from her holdall. She put the jeans on the table and then produced a red sweater.
There was a loud noise to her left.
'Shit,' she said under her breath. 'She's escaping.' She looked at the three naked women on adjacent tables. Angela, nearest to her saw a bitter-sweet smile on her face. 'Shall I dress?' she asked, rhetorically, or shall I go like this?' She picked up her witch's mask. 'I think I'll dress,' she said, and pulling it on walked to the in that and her bra and panties.
* * * * *
Charlotte could not believe what was going on. Megan had stripped her to her bra and panties, and tied her so that she was immobile. Only her dancer's flexibility had enabled her to get herself. Now she had to get away and get help before Megan could do to her whatever she had done to Angela and probably Kristin.
She turned and made for the door. As she did so, her foot caught the edge of a small table. The only thing on it was a small table lamp. But it went flying and as it did so, it made a terrific clang.
Shit,' she said under her breath. She knew that in a second Megan would be on her, no doubt with her stun gun, and Charlotte knew she had no chance against that.
She turned to flee.
* * * * *
Kristen Gordon lay helpless on the hard bench. She was gagged with her own panties and a horrible leather bung, and was bound in a mass of straps and sheaths which had been applied unbearably tight. She was at one end of a row of helpless woman. Angela next door to her sniffled poignantly into her own gag. Kristen wondered if she too had been gagged with her own panties. Kristen eyes were moist against the hard blindfold.
It had to be nearly morning. Halloween had come and gone. In the mansion there had been no treats. Just a terrible trick.
There had just been one development in the painful, naked hours that spanned the present and Kristen's capture. One women, Cathy McGruder had been released. Their captor announced in her metallic witch's voice that a ransom of two hundred thousand pounds had been paid.
But the others lay there, waiting for something to happen, hoping that their painful restraints and mouth-filling gags would be removed sooner rather than later.
* * * * *
She ran as fast as she could to where she felt the exit was. It was dark and she was barefoot and just clad in bra and panties and that made her hesitate.
'Well, well, so you've got yourself free,' a voice said in front of her.
The young woman looked up. The witch was there. It was weird that she too was dressed in bra and panties. The mask was incongruous.
'How can you do this to a woman?' the young woman asked.
'Easily,' the witch replied in her metallic voice. 'And now I am going to do it to you.'
'Why?' the woman exclaimed as the witch removed her mask, and she saw who it was. 'Why? Why? Why?'
'You always were a bitch. Weren't you?' the witch said, 'and now you've got to pay. We'll start with you taking that bra off. You can do it conscious. Or I can do it to you unconscious. Then we'll get you tied and gagged again.'
The stun gun was poised to strike. She had no alternative. The bra fastened at the rear. She reached her back and unclipped it. Then she shrugged it off, exposing her breasts.
She watched her tormentor laugh and relax. Taking her change she flicked her bra in the woman's face and then reached out, grabbing her bra between the cups. They fought for the second. They fought over the stun gun and they fought over the witch's bra,. There was a tearing sound and the witch's bra also came off, the witch flying backwards with the momentum. She turned, tossed the ruined bra aside and looked for her own.
There was no way she could retrieve it. So she turned once again and fled.
* * * * *
Megan was pissed. She made for the door angrily, her bare breasts bobbing up and down as she ran.
* * * * *
Charlotte shivered. She was nearly at the door now. Beyond it lay freedom and help for the others.
Then, as she as about to reach it, she saw Megan. Not only was she without her witches mask. She was without very much at all.. She just wore a pair of panties. She had the stun gun in her hand
Charlotte turned on her heels
'Wait,' Megan shouted, brandishing the stun gun.
Charlotte wasn't going to wait. She turned and ran back up the stairs.
* * * * *
Kristin wondered if she was going to choke. She retched on the panties in her mouth and prayed she wouldn't choke. The leather sheathes were unrelenting. They held her limbs n a vice. The strap between her legs sawed at her most tender parts.
* * * * *
Charlotte heard Megan behind her.
She had no alternative.
She had to fight.
Stun gun or no stun gun.
She turned and threw herself at Megan.
One hand caught the wrist of the hand in which Megan held he stun gun. The other cam into contact with Megan's naked breast.
They wrestled.
It was strange.
Two near naked women, who had been close friends, wrestling together.
Charlotte grabbed for the stun gun. She never imagined that she could get it.
But she realised that Megan's heart wasn't in it.
Invigorated, she tugged at the stun gun and pulled it from Megan's hand.
There was nothing else for it. She pressed it Megan's breast.
'Charlotte?' Megan said. 'What are you …..?
Charlotte pulled the trigger.
There was a flash of blue light and Megan collapsed.
* * * * *
The fight had taken it out of her. Charlotte fought for breath, her breasts heaving in her skimpy bra.
Suddenly aware that she wore just bra and panties, Charlotte felt a blush across her chest.
She wondered how long Megan would be out and contemplated tying her up.
She didn't.
Megan may have planned terrible things for them. But she couldn't hate her enough to tie her up.
Instead she walked into the nearest room. There, she located Kristin's sleeping bag, and with it, her cell phone.
She picked up the cell phone.
A noise behind her startled her.
She turned to see Miss De Guise looking at her. Her teacher wore boots, blue denims and a red sweater. Her breasts were heaving and it was clear she wore no bra.
'Thanks, Charlotte,' she said. 'You've saved me a great deal of trouble.'
4
Nearly a year later.
Daniel McGruder signed the form and completed the sale of his house.
Beside him, Cathy McGruder smiled wanly.
'I am sorry, daddy,' she said.
'It's only money,' he said. 'What's real estate compared with getting my daughter back.'
She burst into tears. She still did that too often, even if she did it less than before.
They made their way from the lawyer's office back to their large house. They would be living in a smaller apartment from now on.
Cathy began to cry again, when she saw the sale board, which now said "sold".
Detective Constable Georgina Watkins was waiting for them.
Georgie was young and attractive. She was chosen as a liaison officer because her feminine manner made it easier to strike up a rapport with the victim.
McGruder looked pleased to see her.
'They won't close the case as such,' Georgie said when over a mug of coffee fifteen minutes later But they'll stop looking now.
'Why?' Cathy snapped.
'There's no more leads,' Georgie said softly. 'They've nothing to go on.'
'I keep telling you,' Cathy snapped again. I was blindfolded all the time. I never saw the face of the woman who kidnapped us.
'I know,' Georgie said. 'But don't blame yourself. They're pretty sure that whoever kidnapped you was part of a well-organized outfit. It's an original scheme. Kidnap five young women. Those whose parents offer to pay get released, the others end up goodness knows where.'
'So they are closing the case?' McGruder asked.
'Yes.'
'And you think that's right?'
'I have my orders. I have to follow them.'
'That wasn't my question.'
'I know.'
'And?'
Georgie was silent.
'Do you agree?' McGruder asked sharply.
Georgie was silent for a moment.
'Perhaps not,' she said.
* * * * *
Denise De Guise smiled as she locked the changing room. What better job could there be than one in which she taught thirty gym-clad eighteen-year olds physical exercise.
An hour later, she motored up the driveway to her house.
The house was new. It wasn't particularly expensive and she could afford it - now that she had come into money.
The house was a fifty mile drive from the school. Some of her colleagues wondered why she would drive so far just to live in the countryside.
The front door double locked.
She opened it. Then she went into the kitchen and then out the other side. In the scullery, there was a large dresser. It was about five feet wide and stood seven feet high. Penny pressed a concealed switch and it slid back. Behind was a door with a deadlock. Denise turned the key, opened it and flicked a light switch to reveal a flight of stairs down which she descended.
There was a double-door system at the bottom so that she could lock one behind her before opening the next.'
'I'm home,' she announced loudly.
She was greeted with four grunts. They came from four women. The were tied face to face in two pairs on two adjacent truck beds. Megan's body pressed against Kristin and Charlotte's body pressed against Angela. All four were gagged. Strong straps held them in place to their beds.
'Whose turn is it to make supper?' Denise asked quizzically.
* * * * *
The air was cold and dark and Georgina Watkins shivered. The outfit made her rather good legs look great, but hid the rest of her body. Still the witch disguise she had picked up at the Halloween shop offered protection from the discovery but not from he elements.
It was only a hunch, a very speculative one. The house was remote, just the place to hide one or more missing persons. Still the only way she could pursue the hunch was through a day off and lone journey.
Pulling her witch's mask over her face, she went towards the door.
THE END
