Chapter sixteen

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Amanda Thornton hurt from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Or rather, the rope from near the tips of her toes were tearing at the hairs on her scalp. In between things hurt too. One length of twine tortured her nipples, while another tortured the soft flesh between her legs. At the same time her chest was crushed against the concrete floor and her back was drawn into a hideous bow. There wasn't a muscle in her body that wasn't crying out from the tension that it was under. So Amanda lay in blindfolded darkness, choking on the two pairs of used panties that formed her mouth-filling gag, and tried to work herself free.

Amanda Thornton had tried everything she knew and she had come to one conclusion. She wasn't going to get free on her own accord.

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Mia Lampton's lungs strained as she tried to catch up with her naked companions. She had been sitting in the middle of the rear car seat when Debbie and Rommy had exited through the right and the left doors.

So Mia had got out last. Already they had a considerable lead on her.

Not that she wanted them to slow down. As long as someone got away, there was hope.

Mia ran on, her braless breasts bouncing furiously up and down as she did so. Now she knew why she never went jogging without a bra. She was barefoot too, and with her wrists and elbows tied so tightly together behind her back, she had no means of balancing herself as she went.

Worse, however, was the gag. Her lips were sealed together with tape, which was bad enough as it mean that very little air went into her mouth. Beneath the tape, however, and nearly filling her mouth, was a pair of black panties belonging to Rommelia Parsons. Those panties had previously gagged Rommy and then gagged Debbie. Not that that mattered to Mia any longer. She was just concentrating on breathing.

Rommy and Debbie reached the ridge. They stopped and turned their bound bodies so that they find out how far Mia was behind and wait for her to catch up. Both doubled up, their chests heaving from the exertion. They felt all breasts and pubic hair. Mia willed them to go on and get away. They waited a bit, eyes watching anxiously over gagged mouths, and then turned once again, their tightly bound wrists and elbows impeding them as they did so.

Then Mia slipped.

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It would have taken only a second of distraction. But Alyssa was an amateur. And therefore the tall woman had opportunity galore. Jacqueline Kilmour easily knocked the gun from the younger women's hand and made off.

Alyssa lost her balance and fell. As she did, the gun toppled out of sight into some gully or other. Alyssa unsighted had no idea where it went. By the time that she was back on her feet, Kilmour was almost out of sight.

The woman was naked and she was tied. Alyssa might have gone after her. But she had other ideas. In the distance she could see Morgan giving chase to the three women. One was behind. By the hair colour, she could tell that this was Mia Lampton, the one who mattered. As she watched, the laggard slipped and Morgan caught up with her.

'Morgan,' she shouted, waving her arms. ‘Bring her here. I need you.'

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Like Mia Lampton, Dr. Rommelia Parsons was in considerable difficulty. Her chest burned with a vengeance. She wasn't particularly buxom. Just a thirty-six C. But before she ever went braless running again, breast-reduction surgery was definitely on the agenda. But that wasn't why her chest burned. No, the reason for that was the struggle she had with every breath. The struggle to suck in adequate air through her nose, while her lips were sealed with tape and her mouth packed with Mia’s panties.

Debbie was slightly younger than she was and evidently fitter. So, Rommy struggled to keep up.

Unfortunately, Mia had been slower than they to get away. It had actually been quite easy to get the rear car doors open. But harder to climb out with one's wrists tied and one's elbows crushed together in the small of the back. It had been hardest of all for Mia, who sat in the middle. So, in consequence she was behind them. They had stopped at the ridge and watched for her at the last ridge, only to see a giant of a man, who was after them, nearly catching up with her.

Now, as Rommy looked again, she saw Mia on the ground, and the man standing over her.

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One down. Two to go. Morgan Hastings thought. As Mia Lampton attempted to kick out, he seized her feet and used a length of rope of tie them. Ignoring the ankle tie, she dolphin kicked with both legs. He looped a second rope around her legs just below her knees, wound it up past her knees and tightened it around the bottom of her thighs. As he did so, his eyes focused on the triangle of light brown pubic hair. Trying to ignore the picture, he knotted off the knee rope just above the joint. He hated to tie a young woman that way, especially one who was naked. But he knew that if he didn't she might squirm her way to freedom.

The others were escaping. Morgan left Mia Lampton where she lay and began to go after them. He would catch both in a few minutes. He was six foot five of muscle. Even if they were not tied and gagged and even in a pair they were not a match for him.

As he straightened, he heard a sound behind him. Turning, he saw Alyssa Baxter waving her arms frantically. It must have been her shouting that had drawn his attention. Immediately, he could see what the matter was. From his elevation up the hill, he had a perfect view. The tall woman they had captured, now naked and bound and gagged, like the woman at his feet, was running away.

Irritated, he picked up Mia Lampton, as easily as if she were a feather filled cushion, and, hoisting her over his shoulder, made his way back down the hill. The other two would have to wait. But they were naked, bound and gagged. He knew that they weren't going anywhere.

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Watching, from near the top of the hill, Debbie Sinclair shuddered as the large man scooped up Mia and made off down the hill with her.

‘Mmmmpph,’ she indicated to Romelia Parsons, scrunching up her contorted shoulders in order to indicate that she wanted to get untied.

‘Mmmmm,’ Rommy responded, moving so that she was back to back with the other woman and squirming as her fingers came momentarily into contact with the blonde’s bare bottom.

Debbie’s fingers were numb. Untying her fellow captive was not going to be easy.

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Rebecca Carpenter was still tied as securely when Morgan Hastings returned as she had been when he left. She had wriggled off the hard-backed chair and on to the floor, but tied as she was, she could not get away.

She looked up in alarm when the door opened, and shuddered when Alyssa Baxter came through. Even more alarming was the large man, who carried a naked and bound and gagged woman over one shoulder.

‘I’d like you to meet the real Dr. Mia Lampton,’ Alyssa said, as the large man deposited the naked woman on the floor beside her. ‘Give me your gun,’ she ordered him. The man handed the firearm over, with a touch of irritation in his face and then turned on his heels and left the house.

‘We’re expecting more company,’ Alyssa said smiling. She stooped and, bending Mia’s legs backwards at the knees, fastened her ankles to her wrists, hog-tying her. The hog-tie rope was so short that Mia’s palms pressed against her heels, bowing her back. Then, Alyssa used a knife to cut through Becky’s bonds

Relieved at last that she was no longer mistaken for the scientist, and had at last been freed, Becky reached for her gag. The cloth in her mouth had become quite an ordeal.

‘No,’ Alyssa shrieked. ‘Leave it.’

Becky grimaced.

‘On your feet,’ the younger woman ordered.

Becky raised herself up, tugging down the hem of the over-short dress as she stood.

‘You didn’t imagine that I had untied you to free you, did you?’ Alyssa laughed. ‘As a matter of fact, Morgan tied you so loosely; I’m amazed you didn’t free yourself. But, don’t worry, I’ll put that right. But first, there’s another matter.’

She paused, just long enough for a puzzled expression to appear on Becky’s face. Then, came the bombshell. ‘Strip.’

‘Nnnngn,’ Becky objected.

‘Oh, don’t worry. I’ll reinforce your gag as well. But first, everything off. Even your bra and panties,’ she said, waving Morgan’s gun at her.

Becky looked around the room and then at the pistol in the blonde woman’s hand. Then she reached for the fastening of the borrowed dress she wore and took the garment off. The borrowed pantyhose and shoes went next. So that Rebecca again stood in front of Alyssa Baxter in just her white bra and panties. She paused for a second. But procrastination would clearly gain nothing. So she reached behind her back, unhooked her bra, and took it off, so that she was once again bare-breasted. Her panties went last.

‘Give them here.’

Becky unhooked her panties from her ankles and passed them to Alyssa. The blonde woman tore out both the sides. Tucking the garment into her pocket, she reached for rope.

'When I've finished with you, bitch,' she yelled, 'you're going to wish that you had never set eyes on me, not to mention stripping me.

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Free. It was only her wrists. But even that was a start. Rommy flexed her hands as soon as Debbie released them. He elbows were still tied. So that her shoulders were still wrenched back and her breasts thrust out, giving even more prominence to her nipples, which were permanently erect from the cold. But at least her hands were free. Now it was her turn to repay the compliment.

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As much as she was enjoying the feeling of the hot water cascading over her body, Isla was pretty sure that her allotted time in the bathroom was nearly over. While she was in the shower, Isla could pretend that the inevitable might not happen and she would not have to parade in front of two men in the ridiculous costume that Alyssa had planned for her. But if she over-stayed her time there, she could envisage Joe banging his way in and dragging her out naked and dripping. She had seen from the look in his eyes, that she had more to fear than a dinner with Baxter

Reluctantly, she turned off the hot water and reached for the towel.

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Immediately, she saw that it was the large man and not the girl who was coming after her, Jacqueline Kilmour knew she hadn’t a chance. The girl was an amateur. But while the man seemed no more experienced in this particular line of work, he at least knew how to handle himself.

Tied, as she was, and naked in the cold evening air, Kilmour had no realistic chance of escape. All she could hope to do was to circle round behind the man, so that she was between him and the house and hope for the best.

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Debbie grunted into her gag in appreciation as the rope came away from her wrists. She squatted slightly, so that her elbows came into line with Rommy’s hands, feeling the strain in her thigh muscles as she did so. It took several more minutes – maybe five – before her elbows were free.

Her immediate instinct was to pull off the gag and spit out the foul-tasting packing. But, it was more important that their hands were free. So she turned around and began to work on Rommy’s elbows. As she did so, she noted that the joints were crushed together and the rope dug into Rommy’s skin. She looked down to see red ridges in her own skin at wrist and elbow. She immediately felt sore.

As soon as Rommy’s elbows were untied, she reached up and tore the tape from her mouth. She retched as she expelled Mia’s yellow panties.

Debbie reached behind her head and fiddled with the knot in her bra that cleave gagged her.

‘Allow me,’ coughed Rommy.

Debbie turned to allow the darker-haired woman to release the knot in the bra that cleave gagged her. As soon as she could pull that from between her teeth, she spat out Rommy’s panties.

The two women stood there motionless, tired and naked.

'What do we do now?' they both asked simultaneously.

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It probably wasn't the time to think about it. But there was something buzzing at the back of Kilmour's mind. It was Romelia Parsons. Somehow, she knew that she had seen her before.

The appearance of the big man put paid to her thoughts. Kilmour knew that she could offer no resistance bound as she was that was worth the candle. Reluctantly, she stopped to surrender. She was a big woman. Not overweight. Nor muscle bound. But tall. That did not deter Maxwell Hastings for one moment. Without pausing, he hefted her over his shoulder and turned back towards Lasalle house.

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Romelia was faced with a ridiculous choice. She could either put on the panties that had gagged her and were wet with her own saliva, but belonged to Mia Lampton. Or she could put on her own panties, the ones that a few moments earlier had gagged Debbie Sinclair. Or, of course, she could go naked. It was embarrassing enough having to go topless. But only one of them, Debbie, still had her bra, and that was ruined and unwearable. Bottomless as well was one step too many. Silently, she cursed Paul Lesalle for getting her into this. Then, she picked her panties up from where Debbie had let them fall, and climbed into them.

Debbie grimaced in revulsion. Then she reached for Mia's tiny yellow panties and stepped into them. Letting the damp material settle around her hips. She shivered in the freezing air and then crossed her arms over her breasts, hugging herself defensively.

'We need to get in the warm,' she said desperately. 'I don’t think I can make it to another house. Unless we can come up with a plan soon, I'm going to have to give myself up.

'I've one idea,' Romelia said, shivering also. 'Do you want to give it a try.'

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Isla Lewis wore one towel as a turban and the other as a wrap. It was the most decent that she'd been in hours. She picked up the white lace thong from the bed and examined it closely. It was minute and nearly transparent. But at least it had a substantial enough gusset. She tossed off the wrap-around towel, and stepped into the undergarment, letting her breasts swing forward as she did. The rear of the thong felt strange as it settled between her buttocks. The front triangle barely covered her triangle of brown pubic hair. Baxter would know at once that she wasn't a real blonde, even with the thong on. Not that that really mattered. She had to hope that he was gentleman enough not to molest her anyway.

Trying to push the worst-case scenario out of her mind, she looped her arms through the shoulder straps of the bra. It front fastened, so she needed to pull it together at the front before fastening it. As she did so, she felt her breasts pulled together and lifted. As she hooked the plastic clasp, she felt her breasts thrust out in what she immediately found an embarrassing posture.

'Are you ready?' she heard Joe shout from outside.

Afraid that he would enter and find her in her new minuscule undies, she grabbed at the dress and quickly lowered it over her head. It fell downwards and settled around her hips.

It didn't make mattes that much better.

Nervously, she pushed her feet into the high heels.

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Morgan Hastings carried Jacqueline Kilmour as easily as if she were a feather pillow. It helped that she made no effort to kick or struggle. By the time, he reached the Lesalle House, he had developed a sneaking admiration for her fortitude under duress.

'Sit her over there,' Alyssa said as he entered.

Morgan moved to sit Kilmour on to the chair that Rebecca Carpenter had once occupied. But the sight that greeted him pulled him up short.

The room was constructed to have an authentic oldie-worldy look. Several large beams ran horizontally beneath the ceiling. Becky knelt under one of these. When he left earlier she had been fully dressed. Now, she was stark. Her clothes were scattered around the room. Morgan could make out her pantyhose, shoes and dress, and even her bra. But there was no sign of her panties.

Nudity was the least of her problems, however. It was the way that Becky was dressed that was causing her distress. Amidst the brutality, with which Alyssa had tied her, two cruelties stood out.

The word knelt was not really appropriate. Kneeling assumes balance. And, it assumes that one can use one's feet, ankles and shins to maintain that balance. Becky could do no such thing. For Becky's ankles and shins were bent up and lashed to her thighs with thin cruel cord that cut into her flesh. In addition, her legs were laced together around the thighs and above the knees. The only thing that Becky knelt on where the points of her knees.

Tied like that, Becky would have easily toppled over. And it was the way that she was held in place that comprised the first cruelty.

Rebecca Carpenter had shoulder-length brown hair. It was sleek and shiny. Normally she wore it loose around her face and neck. Sometimes, she tied it back. Until now it had never been tied it up on her head.

But it wasn't tied up with the elegance bun, into which Gina Scott arranged her hair each morning for work. It was gathered painfully and scrappily on to the very top of her head and tied there with a piece of coarse rope. That length of rope stretched up to a beam, where it was fastened out of reach. That rope had been pulled so taught that it wasn't clear whether Becky actually knelt on her knees or hung from her scalp.

Becky's arms were behind her. And from the contorted position of her shoulders, Morgan could see that it was not only her wrists that were tied. But also her elbows. Either they had been made to meet or they had been tied very close together.

It looked very uncomfortable.

Then there was her gag. Morgan had gagged her very simply. He had used a piece of cloth in her mouth and a rectangle of tape across her lips.

There was nothing simple about her current gag. From the way her cheeks were stretched out, he could see that there was now rather more packing in her mouth than before. There was a length of coloured cloth over it and around her head. That was tied tightly enough to squash her mouth and lips against he packing. In addition, he could make out bits of multiple lengths of tape above and below the cloth. He looked in her eyes. They were tearful, but defiant.

It was the second cruelty, and not her eyes, however, that drew his gaze. Alyssa had wrapped a length of cord around her waist an fastened it so tightly that, even thought there wasn't an ounce of excess fat on her frame, it nearly disappeared into her flesh. From it a second length of brutal cord went downwards, where it disappeared into a neat thatch of brown pubic hair. It appeared to be cutting her in two upwards.

Morgan deposited Kilmour in the chair and strode around behind the kneeling young woman. As he suspected, her elbows were crushed together behind her back. The cord between her legs appeared to be anchored to her wrists.

'You can't treat people like that, Alyssa,' he said coldly.

Across the room, Alyssa pulled Kilmour's arms over the back of the chair and lashed them to the bar between the rear chair legs.

'Can't I,' she said. 'Who's in charge.'

While Morgan fixed her coldly, she yanked Kilmour's left leg around the side of the chair and tied it to the rear leg. Kilmour groaned into her gag, as her crotch opened.

Morgan hadn't time for a confrontation now. He needed to get Alyssa and these women back to her father, before trouble started. 'I'll get the other two,' he said, striding to the door. 'Then, we'll see.'

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S heriff Mike Wiseman looked up as Gina Scott entered his office. As he took in her shapely form stretching her uniform shirt across the chest, he tried to disguise his interest. Of course, he failed.

'Agent Thornton isn't back yet,' she said carefully controlling her displeasure. She was fed up being the token sex object for two slimy men.

'So?' he said. 'I'm not her keeper.'

'I'm going up to the Baxter place,' Gina added. 'See if she's there.' She had intended to tell him her lead about the Freeway Motel. But now she decided against. Perhaps it was the way he looked at her. Perhaps it was the total disdain he showed for the job.

'Fine,' he said.

Wiseman watched her rear as she left his office. He liked what he saw. Her ass was nearly as good as her tits.

Then he picked up the telephone and dialled Henry Baxter.

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To Be Continued...

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