Chapter eleven

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Isla Lewis was struggling to keep up. Gagged with a nerf ball and tape, she was quickly out of breath; and the high heels made progress hard. But she knew that if she failed to keep up with the car, she would fall, and her two captors would probably drag her back to the house by her neck. After all, they seemed to have no qualms about stripping women naked before tying them up. She recalled the two women that she had seen in the hall. Not only were they both nude. They had been tied very tightly, and gagged even more severely than she now was. Isla wondered if they would strip her too. The prospect horrified her. She wore just a skimpy demi bra, tiny string-sided panties, pantyhose, shoes and a particularly short dress with a plunging neckline. Not much covering. But it was enough. An hour ago, she had been concerned that the dress was too short and too low cut. Now it seemed like a tent in comparison with what she feared might be ahead of her.

By the time they got back to the house, Isla's shoes were scuffed and scratched. But, at least she had managed not to fall.

Henry Baxter was there to greet them on arrival. As they entered the grounds of the house, Alyssa revved the car engine up forcing Isla to complete the last part of the journey at speed. With her mouth full and taped, Isla fought for breath through her nose. As a result, when the vehicle pulled up at the rear of the house in front of Baxter, Isla's chest was heaving in its flimsy covering.

Baxter's his gaze fell immediately on her breasts, his eyes seemingly piercing the low-cut dress and the bra beneath. With her arms secured behind her, she could do nothing to prevent him watching her breasts pounding up and down as she sought to suck in air through her nose. Before she had had to put up with him peering surreptitiously at her. Now he stared openly. And, as the way her elbows were cinched together forced her breasts out invitingly, there was a lot to look at.

Alyssa unhitched the leash that linked Isla to the car door. Instinctively, she doubled up in an attempt to get her breath back.

Baxter smiled. The new posture - one she could hardly avoid in the circumstances - caused her neckline to gape open. Now Baxter got a good look at most of her hanging breasts and at the bra barely supporting them. He watched for several minutes as the young woman fought to regain her breath.

'Oh dear,' he said, when she finally straightened. "I was enjoying the view.'

Alyssa smiled to herself. 'You don't have to pretend you're not looking any more. Do you, Daddy,' she said sharply. 'You can look all you like now.' And she ripped open the front of Isla's dress.

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Special Agent Amanda Thornton relaxed as her right knee came loose. It was ironic. Had the large man tied her simply, the way Rebecca was, she would probably not have got free, not with her elbows tied. But he had tried to be clever, bending her legs back. And that had been his undoing. With her elbows tied Amanda knew she'd never get free without help. But help was at hand. It lay bound, gagged, naked and blindfolded on the bed next to her. But to use it, Amanda had to get herself off the bed she was tied to. A neck leash would have prevented that. But she would also have been unable to release her legs had they been stretched out. With them bent, however, she could just about reach the knots with her joined hands. She started on the ankle-thigh ties. With her arms beneath her tied at the elbows and wrists, it took time. But she appeared to have plenty of time to spare. Fifteen minutes after she started, her ankles were free. Then she began on her right knee. Now that the rope, the one attached that to the end of the bed, was off, she was nearly free. She only had to free her left knee.

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Isla Lewis stood shivering at the rear of Baxter's house. Not content merely to reveal Isla's bra-covered breasts, Alyssa had torn her dress a second time, so that here was a rent in it which started at the neck line and went almost to the hem, revealing the top part of her pantyhose, as well as a fair amount of her pale-yellow-coloured panties.

Baxter smiled at her discomfiture. 'Don't worry, my dear,' he said to her after a bit. 'Your virtue is quite safe here. I just need you as a bargaining tool with that fool Lesalle. As long as he co-operates, you'll be free by the day after tomorrow. Unfortunately, as you've seen, we've other guests here. So, we're going to have to keep you tied up and gagged.' He turned to his daughter. 'Why don't you take Ms Lewis down to the basement and make her comfortable. Then you can go and check on the others.'

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Special Agent Amanda Thornton freed her other knee from the bed and eased herself upright. She was still gagged with Rebecca Carpenter's panties, which were held in her mouth with her own bra and with a piece of cloth. She was still blindfolded. And her wrists and elbows were still tied securely behind her back. But she was now confident that this could be remedied. She climbed off the bed and, kneeling beside it, rubbed off the blindfold. As soon as she could focus, she made her way to the bed on which Becky was spread-eagled. The panties gagging her were socked with saliva and were cloyed at the back of her throat. She could remove them on her own in time. But time was now of the essence. Who knew when Baxter and his clan would come to check on them.

Using her numb fingers, she pulled the cloth from Becky's eyes. While Becky blinked her way back to sight, she went to the foot of the bed and worked on her right ankle. Progress was slow. But Amanda soon had Becky's feet free. Now she went back to the top end of the bed and sat by Becky's midriff.

The two naked women squirmed on the bed for several minutes, but soon Amanda had freed Becky's wrists. She turned next to her elbows and managed to untie these. She watched while Becky's numb fingers shot to her mouth and pulled at the cloth and bra before spitting out Amanda's own sodden panties, accompanied by a symphony of coughing and spluttering.

It took several minutes before Becky felt able to return the favour and untie Amanda's arms. But then, she too was free. Amanda reached up and pulled down the cloth from her face before reaching behind her head to untie her bra. Then she eased Becky's panties from her mouth.

'What now?' Becky whispered.

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Dr. Romelia Parsons lay hog-tied on the floor of the cupboard. It had taken her just five minutes after the departure of Paul Lesalle to establish that she was not going to get free without help. He had used twine to tie her and that made her bondage especially painful. Her wrists were tied palm-to-palm. Her elbows had been made to meet behind her back. Her ankles were cinched. So were her knees. Her ankles had then been roped to her wrists, so that her palms pressed against her heels. She was still gagged with the black lacy panties she had worn the two days previously, a matching bra and a scarf.

Then, she heard someone at the outside door.

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Debbie Sinclair stood shivering by the door of a small hill-side cabin. It was now nearly twilight and Debbie wore only a tiny thong-style swimsuit bottom. Beside her, Mia Lampton was little better off. She wore just brief panties and a bra. Both were tied and gagged. But, in addition, Debbie had a rope pulled tightly between her legs which linked her wrists behind to her navel in front. It had bit into her with every step she had taken between Melinda Lesalle's car and the door.

'Get in there,' Melinda ordered as she swung the door open. She and Paul had used the cabin when they went walking in the hills and it was a perfect place to leave the bimbo and the scientist while she went back to the motel.

'Mmm, mmmph,' Debbie groaned as she was ushered forward. The gravel underfoot had not been kind to her bare feet either.

The cabin was almost empty of furniture. Debbie and Mia stumbled into the centre of it. Their ankles were free, but their thighs and knees were lashed together.

'I'm going to be leaving you here for a while,' Melinda announced. 'I'm afraid, I'm going to have to tie you two little darlings to one another while I'm gone.'

She emptied a large plastic bag on to the floor and then sorted through the large number of pieces of rope that tumbled out of it. She tied one of these to the front of an upright chair and then turned the chair around so that the back faced her and the length of rope appeared between the back legs.

'Dr. Lampton,' if you'll be so kind,' she said with mock formality as she guided the scientist down to the floor so that she sat against the rear of the chair. Quickly, she lashed Mia to it, binding her at the neck, chest, and waist. The last of these was secured to the horizontal between the chair's rear legs.

'You know, Tits,' she said to Debbie as she worked, 'that worthless bit of shit we share is in partnership with Maxwell Patton and Henry Baxter. Mia here works - or rather worked - for them and has began to develop a means of tracing viruses around the internet system. It should have netted them millions, which even divided three ways will be a considerable sum. The only problem is that all but a bit of the profit is all going to go to the University which funded the project.'

She pushed the rope form the rear of the seat up through Mia's legs and looped it through her waist rope. Mia groaned as she yanked it tight and knotted it fast. Debbie who had been enduring a similar arrangement for some time sympathised.

'Still,' Melinda continued. 'All three realised that a system which could be used to track viruses could be used to direct them. All it needed was a bit of development. So Maxwell Patton has spent the last four weeks setting up his own research establishment in the wilds of Canada. All he needs is the original programme which has gone missing and Dr. Lampton here.'

She tested all the ropes fastening Mia, tightening one or two, and made sure that her gag was still in place. The she tied her ankles together.

'There's also a second scientist who goes by the name of Romelia Parsons. Romelia ... strange name, eh ... sounds like a small east European state. Or a children's book ... The Prisoner of Romelia, perhaps. I imagine she'll be joining Dr. Lampton in Canada, just to be on the safe side.'

She finished tying Mia and then came towards Debbie.

'Don't try anything, Tits,' she said, as she untied Debbie's knees and thighs.

'But I intend for it to be me, rather than Patton who runs the Canada facility and makes the money from the virus. And guess what, Tits? My husband might not be up to much. In fact, I'm not sure I really want him. But nobody else gets him.'

She released the rope between Debbie's legs, laughing at Debbie's obvious relief as this was done.

'So, I've decided that you're going to the facility as well. After all, it'll need some domestic support. They'll be bathrooms to clean and so on. And guess what? I've decided that you'll be kept naked. Naked twenty-four seven and fifty-two weeks a year. The other two will be allowed at least a modicum of clothing. But you'll be stark naked. And there's no time to start like the present.'

She reached out and grabbed the front of Debbie's thong bottom, pulling upwards and outwards. The tiny piece of cloth was remarkable resilient and Debbie mewed into her gag as the rear piece and crotch dug into her. Then there was a tearing sound as at first the rear and then the side ripped apart and the thong came away. Leaving Debbie naked.

'Um, you're a natural blonde, Tits?' Melinda commented. 'Paul always had good taste.' She laughed. 'Now sit astride, Dr. Lampton, if you please, Tits.'

Unlike Mia, Debbie had only her wrists and not her elbows tied. She clambered down so that she sat with her legs spread to either side of the scientist. It was an undignified position to be in and Debbie was sure that Melinda intended it to be that way. Melinda tied a rope to the right chair leg and took it behind Debbie's back to the left leg. When she had tied it off, she added more rope around their joined torso's so that Mia's bra-clad breasts pressed into Debbie's front just below her own breasts. In turn, Debbie's breasts pressed into Mia's body above hers.

Melinda now pulled Debbie's legs forward until her mound pressed into Mia, just above the top of her brief panties. Then, she lashed each of Debbie's ankles to the appropriate chair leg. Finally she added rope around Debbie's waist to the chair leg horizontal.

'Now, I've business to attend to so I'll be gone for two or three hours.' She produced two long lengths of cloth and used them to blindfold both women. 'Still, I expect you'll be here when I return,' she continued. 'I'm sure that tied like that, you'll not get free of your own. And it's not like there's anyone in the cupboard waiting to free you.

She was still laughing when she left closing the door behind her.

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Isla Lewis grunted as Alyssa Baxter pulled the last length of cord agonisingly tight. She stood against an upright in the Baxter basement with her arms squeezed between her and the wooden post. Rope went around her neck, chest - above and below her breasts - waist, thighs, knees and ankles, securing her to the upright. She remained gagged with the nerf ball and tape. Miraculously, she still wore her bra, panties, pantyhose, high heels and the remains of her dress.

'Don't go away,' Alyssa said, as she left the room. 'Dinner's at eight.'

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Amanda's white panties felt sodden with Becky's saliva as she pulled them up her long legs and eased them over her bottom. The wetness made them nearly transparent. Still they were better than nothing. Amanda's bra had escaped all but superficial damage and she pulled that on too, pleased to have her breasts covered and supported. Becky too dressed in her own bra and panties. Amanda noticed that her panties was also wet enough to display the dark triangle of hair beneath.

'What now?' Becky asked.

The answer was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

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'Uh, oh,' Alyssa Baxter sighed as she entered the attic room. It should have been all right. After all both women were naked with their wrists and elbows tied together behind their backs. Escape in that circumstance was impossible.

But the room was empty.

Or so it seemed for a second.

But before Alyssa could react, she was grabbed from behind and a hand came down across her mouth, crushing lips against teeth.

'No sound,' Amanda hissed. Or I'll break your neck.'

Alyssa was wearing a short red wool dress over black opaque pantyhose.

'We'll need to gag her as soon as possible,' Amanda continued. Can you get her panties off.'

'W-what,' Becky spluttered.

'We've no alternative. There's nothing else to use. We'll need her dress for one of us to escape in.'

Becky looked unhappily at the captive woman, but then fished beneath her skirt for her undergarments. Alyssa kicked and bucked when she took hold of the top of her pantyhose and struggled to get them off.

'I said keep still,' Amanda hissed threateningly.

Alyssa was still for a moment, allowing Becky to pull off the pantyhose and panties in one go, taking her shoes with them.

She sorted the panties from the pantyhose, holding them up gingerly, as she had her own an hour or so before. The panties were black.

'Here,' Amanda suggested.

Becky seemed pleased to hand the panties over to Amanda who pushed them under her gagging hand with the hand on the end of the arm wrapped around Alyssa's body.

'Now the hose,' Amanda continued.

Becky passed the pantyhose to Amanda who used it to tie the panties in place. Then she let Alyssa go.

Alyssa seemed to realize that she was outnumbered and outgunned. So she stood there compliantly, with her chest heaving as she fought to come to terms with the gag.

'Get the rest off,' Amanda ordered and hurry up about it.'

Alyssa's eyes seemed to threaten dire revenge as she unzipped her wool dress at the rear and wriggled out of it. She looked faintly ludicrous standing there in just a black bra.

'Bra too,' Amanda ordered.

Alyssa released the front fastening of her lacy black bra and took that off too.

'Turn and cross your wrists behind you.'

Alyssa did as she was told standing there motionless while her wrists were tied. Amanda Thornton left long ends from her wrists that she tied tightly around her waist to hold her wrists still. Then she wound rope around her arms and chest framing her.

'Get the dress on,' she hissed to Becky as she continued to tie Alyssa.

'What?' Becky asked.

One of us can get away in Miss Crime Gal's clothes. That'd better be you. I'll follow as soon as I can find something to wear or get a car started.

'Wouldn't be better if you went,' Becky said hesitating.

'No, you go. I'm probably better at looking after myself.'

'But,' Becky started. However a glance from Amanda stopped her in mid flow and she began to wriggle into the dress. She looked much happier once she had it on. That was in spite of the face that she was an inch or so taller than Alyssa and had a slightly different body shape so that a dress that was merely short on Alyssa was a micro-mini on her.

Meanwhile, Amanda untied the pantyhose gagging Alyssa and replaced it with her bra. She tossed the hose to Becky.

'You'll need these. It's cold outside,' she explained.

Becky looked dubiously at the garment. But pulled it on anyway. Once the dark opaque pantyhose were on, she was almost decent ... almost.

'On the bed,' Amanda ordered Alyssa. She would pay for this when they caught her, she knew ... and they would catch her. Still, it was a case of in for a penny in for a pound. So, once Alyssa was on the bed, she pulled her legs wide and tied them spread as Becky's had been bound.

She looked back to see Alyssa squirming on the bed as she ushered Becky out of the room. It was not until they were well out of earshot at the foot of the stairs, that she suggested to Becky that she made her way across the hills to the nearest house. Unknown to both of them, it was the Lesalle mansion.

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Amy hung suspended in mid air, wearing nothing but her pink panties and a white bra. Her arms were held aloft, her legs were tied to each end of a four-foot long length of wood. Jacqueline Kilmour stuffed her mouth with rags torn from the T-shirt she had just ripped from her body and taped them in place with duct tape.

'Now, Dr. Parsons,' she began to explain. 'I don't think you've quite realized what's facing you, do you?'

Still blindfolded, Amy shuddered as the cold steel of a knife came into contact with her right shoulder, just inches to the right of her throat.

'It's true that my employer won't let me hurt you. But there are other things I can do.'

She flicked the knife beneath the right shoulder strap of Amy's bra and cut the material. The bra sagged slightly with the weight of Amy's right breast.

'Clothing, for example. I'm imagine that like all well-brought up, well-educated young women, you like to keep certain parts of you covered up.'

The knife went to Amy's left shoulder and cut through that strap too. Like it's partner, the left breast sagged slightly once its support had been diminished.

'Take those rather nice breasts of yours, Dr. Parsons,' Kilmour continued. 'I'm sure that you not only like to keep those covered up, but you like the nice support a bra gives you. I'm sure you'd not only be embarrassed to be without one.' The knife dipped downwards into Amy's cleavage. 'I'm sure you'd also feel vulnerable, having your breasts bouncing around all the time.' She pulled the blade forward, so that Amy felt her bra loosen slightly against her breasts. 'And don't for one moment think that I'm talking about you going braless underneath your shirt or dress. No, Dr. Parsons, I mean being without a shirt and a dress and a bra - in fact, completely topless - all the time.' She flicked her wrist and the knife cut through the thin piece of material linking the cups of Amy's bra, and the bra fell away.'

'Then, there are those little panties of yours. Not very big, are they, Dr. Parsons? Basically just two triangles of material linked at the edges.' Amy felt her panties plucked forward at the front. 'Yet, they cover so much which is vital and private. Don't they Dr. Parsons? Yet they can be removed so easily.'

Amy felt the knife move into her crotch and began to saw the material between her legs in two. As soon as it parted, the front and back flew up, which, as her legs were spread, revealed all. Kilmour finished the process by cutting the right side of the garment, leaving Amy naked.

'So, what's it to be, Dr. Parsons? Once you're in Canada, you'll be watched night and day, sometimes on video, sometimes in person. I'm told that the male guards that Mr Patton has hired are very good at their job. It's your choice, Dr. Parsons. In a moment, I'll take the gag off. If you don't tell me what I want to know, I'll make sure your regulation dress code at your Canadian destination consists of absolutely nothing. Think of it, Dr. Parsons. That could be the last bra you'll ever wear. Still, I'm sure you'll get used to having your breasts bobbing around.'

She began to rip the tape from Amy's mouth.

'I'm not, Dr. Parsons,' Amy blurted out as soon as she could speak.

Jacqueline Kilmour looked at her askance.

'Such a shame you won't co-operate,' she said grinning. 'A shame for you at least. As for your future jailers, I'm not so sure.

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Chapter Twelve

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