_______________________________________________________
It was
growing late in the day and gloom had descended on the workshop. Right now, Jana Riley ought to have been busy
snapping candid shots of Diamond Dayle, which would win her applause, and
perhaps even fame. Had it not been for
the security guards back at the car shows, she might perhaps have been doing
exactly that. But, thanks to Belinda
Carver’s determination to find a story, she was doing something very
different. Belinda had found her story
and was now hogtied in her underwear.
Jana stood, tied to a pillar in only the tattered remains of her dress,
and her shoes, pantyhose, bra and panties, waiting to be stripped and
humiliated. Both young women were, of
course, gagged.
Jana
shivered as she watched Lupe bind Belinda and leave her hog-tied on the
floor.
It was
not as warm as it might have been in the workshop either. Jana looked at Belinda lying on the
floor. She was in just her bra and
panties, and the whole front of her body was in contact with the rough
concrete. She had to be cold. No doubt Jana would soon find out exactly how
cold. Unless they could escape that
was. She looked at the door. It was twenty feet away and padlocked. She looked at their captors. Ramon was massive. Lupe was small but wiry and tough. And the Baroness had a glint of steel in her
eyes and was ice cool. They also had
guns. Although not actually outnumbered, Jana, Belinda and Diamond Dayle
certainly faced superior force and superior muscle. Unless help arrived there was nothing they
could do to get away.
'We will
leave our prize catch to last,' the Baroness announced, as Ramon released Jana
from the pillar.
The
photographer was unable to object as she was thrust forward into the centre of
the group. She stood motionless while
Lupe slashed through her bonds and then tore the medical tape from her
mouth. As she eased the monstrous packing
out of her mouth, she watched Belinda Carver struggle to find a more comfortable
position on the concrete floor.
‘Ah,
Fraulein Riley, now it is your turn to strip naked,’ the Baroness
ordered. ‘I want you nude as
well.’
Jana
felt nearly naked as it was. She wore
nothing but the remains of her dress and the underwear she had put on that
morning. The dress had not only been
dramatically shortened by her captors, so that it revealed every inch of her
legs, but in contrast to its former high front, it now had a plunging
neckline. Beneath it she wore only a bra
and panties in peach tones and a pair of flesh-coloured sheer nylon
pantyhose.
‘Come on
Fraulein,’ the Baroness said suddenly.
‘I see that I have to instruct you how to strip as I did Fraulein
Carver.’
Jana
gulped. She should have undressed
immediately. Now she had the additional
humiliation of being forced to strip to order, one garment at a
time.
‘We will
start with your shoes, Fraulein.’
That one
was easy to do, at least. Jana kicked her
shoes of one at a time. The concrete of
the automobile workshop floor felt rough beneath her nylon-covered
feet.
‘Now,
your dress.’
It was a
repeat performance of Belinda’s ordeal.
Jana pulled her dress off her shoulders and down over her slender
hips. She felt vaguely ridiculous in bra,
panties and pantyhose.’
‘Pantyhose,’
the Baroness snapped.
Jana
wound her flesh-coloured pantyhose down her long legs, and offered a show of
gusset-covered crotch as she fished them off her feet.
‘I doubt
if she’s quite as buxom as the snoopy reporter,’ the Baroness said. ‘Let’s see, Fraulein. Take your bra off.’
Like
Belinda’s bra, Jana’s garment fastened at the rear. She reached behind her back and unhooked
it. As soon as she was bare-breasted, she
began to redden, shuddering at the thought that these monsters would take
delight in comparing her breasts with Belinda’s.
Jana now
stood there in just her panties. The
garment in question was more sizeable and fancier than Belinda’s. It had inch-wide sides and a two-tone front
panel, decorated with lace. But what the
panties gained in size, they lost in stretch and cut.
‘Panties
off,’ the Baroness ordered. ‘Last but
not, I dare say, least.’
Jana
knew that protest would be pointless.
Silently, and, like Belinda before her, embarrassed and degraded, she
slid her panties over her hips and down her long legs. To avoid repeating her previous
crotch-revealing display, this time without panties, she kicked them off her
feet.
‘Hands
on head.’
Jana
raised her hands to her head. This raised
her breasts upwards. She couldn’t see
herself, but she could remember the effect that the stance had on Belinda. And her chest and face blushed
scarlet.
‘I do
like it when the merchandise does as it’s told,’ the Baroness quipped, as Jana
reddened further. ‘Now, Lupe, what do you
think of this one.’
Lupe and
the Baroness examined Jana, as they had Belinda, making her spin around on
demand.
‘Wow,’
Lupe said immediately, ‘look at those legs.’
‘First
things first,’ said the Baroness, coldly, ignoring Jana’s superb legs. ‘What do you think of her
boobs?’
‘Nice,
Señora,’ Lupe said after mature reflection. ‘Not as large as the reporter’s but nearly as
shapely. Button nipples, not too
large. No sag,’ Lupe said, enjoying the
way it made Jana’s red blush deepen.
‘Nice and high.’
‘Size,
Fraulein Carver?’ the Baroness snapped.
It was
obvious what she meant. ‘T-t-thirty-four
B,’ Jana replied mortified.
She
reddened again. Meanwhile Lupe had taken
it upon herself to examine the cups of Jana’s bra for the
label.
‘Thirty-four
B it is,’ Lupe announced, finding the tab, as if the issue had ever been in
doubt.
‘What do
you think of the rest of her body?’ the Baroness asked. ‘She seems a little thin to
me.’
How
ridiculous, Jana thought. Belinda, she
knew, had a figure to die for. And they
had claimed that she was too fat. She was
less sure about herself. But even so, the
idea that she was too thin was ridiculous.
‘You may
be right, Señora,’ Lupe concurred.
‘Señorita Riley, what is your waist
measurement?’
‘Twenty-three
inches,’ Jana answered immediately
‘And
your hips?’
Thirty-four
inches,’ Jana offered.
‘Hum,’
said the Baroness, ‘later you’ll be measured properly of course. But, for now, we’ll take the word of you and
Fraulein Carver. What is you
height, Fraulein?’
‘Five
foot ten,’ Jana replied, testily.
‘And
your weight?’
‘A
hundred and fifteen pounds.’
‘Good. Now, the legs,’ the Baroness said
methodically. ‘They are indeed,
excellent, Lupe. They as outstanding as
legs as Fraulein Carver’s boobs are in the breast
department.’
‘Long
slender thighs,’ Lupe continued. ‘I like
the way, they don’t quite meet at the tops.’
‘Yes,
indeed,’ the Baroness concurred. ‘Inside
leg measurement, Fraulein,’ she ordered.
‘Thirty
four,’ Jana said, again reddening.
‘Okay,
Fraulein Riley. Spread
them.’
Jana
angrily parted her legs.
‘Wider,
Fraulein,’ the Baroness said.
‘Both you and Fraulein Carver are so modest, a characteristic of
which you now no longer have the luxury.’
Jana
parted her legs more. Her captors took
even longer examining her than they had Belinda.
‘Well,
Lupe,’ the Baroness laughed at length, ‘at least we now know that out
Fraulein Riley is a genuine redhead.’
Lupe
laughed.
They
kept Jana standing there like that for five minutes more.
‘All
right, Fraulein, you too may put your bra and panties back on. It is time we examined the
wailer.’
Relieved
that the humiliation had at last ended, Jana pulled her panties and her bra back
on. Five minutes later, she lay on the
cold floor, on her front in a tight hog-tie.
Her wrists and elbows were tied tightly together behind her back and her
ankles, knees and thighs were tied. All
the bonds had been cinched and her ankles were secured to her wrists so that her
palms were in constant contact with her heels.
Her mouth was stuffed with the second sleeve of Belinda’s skirt and her
lips were smothered with tape. A cloth
was tied over her taped mouth to hold it in place. Her bra-covered breasts drilled into the
concrete floor.
Attention
now turned to Diamond Dayle, who was released from the pillar, thrust centre
stage, and untied.
She
stood there in her chemise. It hung only
far enough to cover the hip band of her white panties. The triangle of white material that hugged her
pubic mound was visible below. Her
jet-black hair, which hung even longer than the bottom of the chemise, formed a
fringe around the top of her white, panty-covered bottom.
‘Strip,
Fraulein Dayle.’
Diamond
was ready for this. Reaching to her waist
with numb hands she swept the chemise up over her head in one dramatic movement,
disarraying her long hair as she did.
Her
white lace bra was skimpy. Her matching
white panties were big enough to cover her mound and bottom, but very little
else.
She
stooped and pulled off her socks. Her bra
fastened at the front. Gingerly, she
reached up to her breasts to unhook it.
‘Wait,’
the Baroness ordered.
Diamond’s
heart had been beating faster and faster.
At the news of this reprieve, it suddenly went more
slowly.
‘The
great Diamond Dayle in just her bra and panties,’ the Baroness announced. ‘This must be one for the photo album. Ramon
fetch the digital camera.’
Ramon
disappeared with a snigger, returning with a small silver camera, which he used
to photograph the singer, first with her arms by her side, and then, on orders
of the Baroness with hands on her head.
‘Now a
few in just those tiny little panties.
No?’ the Baroness said snidely.
Diamond
Dayle was mortified.
‘Take
your bra off, Fraulein,’ the Baroness ordered.
Now,
it was Diamond Dayle's turn to redden.
She was not only being made to strip to order like the others, she was
actually being photographed. She reached
upwards and unhooked her bra between her breasts; then took it off as one would
a jacket. As soon as she stood there in
just her panties, Ramon took more photographs.
'Hands
on head, Fraulein Dayle,' the Baroness ordered. Diamond did so for yet more photographs. The new posture lifted her
breasts.
Then
the inevitable order came. 'Panties
off.'
Diamond
had known for some time that that order would come. But it didn't make complying any easier. Nervously, she wriggled out of her last
undergarment. As soon as she was naked,
Ramon again used his digital camera.
'Hands
on head.'
Diamond
did as she was ordered. Her breasts
instantly lifted. Ramon took more
shots.
‘There,
Fraulein,’ the Baroness said. A
little something for your unofficial web site.
Of course there will those who will say that they are fakes. But you won’t be around to be asked and many
will recognise them as authentic. And, of
course, we’ll always know that they are real, don’t we?’
‘You
bitch,’ Diamond Dayle stammered.
‘You
flatter me, Fraulein,’ the Baroness said.
‘But I try.’ She paused. ‘Now, if you could do a twirl for Lupe and
myself.’
Diamond
turned round and round, blushing as the two women exchanged casual remarks about
her body. Finally, they had her stand
facing forward.
‘What do
you think of this one, Lupe?’
‘Such
fantastic hair,’ Lupe said, immediately.
She walked round behind Diamond and began to run her fingers through the
singer’s raven mane. ‘More than makes up
for the rest of her. It’s a shame we
can’t keep her.’
Diamond
was relieved to hear this. The Mexican
continued to run her fingers through her hair.
She traced the long lengths downwards where they fell to the top of
Diamond’s bottom.
‘It
would still be better if she had bigger boobs,’ Lupe sneered. She snaked a hand around the front of
Diamond’s body and tried to cup one of her breasts. Instinctively, Diamond pulled
away.
Retaliation
was immediate. Lupe grabbed hold of a
large clump of the singer’s hair and yanked backwards. Diamond found herself looking at the ceiling;
and she found Lupe’s hands grabbing at her breasts.
Lupe
mauled away for several minutes, all the time keeping a tight grip on Diamond’s
long, jet-black hair.
‘What is
your bra size?’ she finally hissed into the singer’s ear.
‘Thirty-two
B,’ Diamond Dayle whispered to the ceiling, through the pain in her
scalp.
‘I
didn’t hear you,’ Lupe said. ‘You’ll have
to speak up.’
‘Thirty-two
B,’ Diamond Dayle repeated, this time more loudly.
Across
the room, the Baroness searched for the label in Diamond’s discarded
bra.
‘Thirty-two
B, it is,’ the Baroness concurred.
Diamond
blushed.
‘Now
your waist, Fraulein,’ she said.
‘T-t-t-twenty-t-two,’
the singer quailed.
‘Hips?’
T-thirty-two.’
‘Height?’
‘Five
foot one.’
‘Weight?’
Ninety-nine
pounds,’ Diamond croaked.
Lupe let
go of her hair, pushing Diamond away.
‘Legs
apart, Fraulein,’ the Baroness said.
Diamond
did as she was told and spread her legs.
She felt exposed in the extreme as the Baroness and Lupe proceeded to eye
her pubic hair.
When
finally they had looked everywhere they could, Diamond was allowed to dress in
her bra and panties. And was then hog-tied with her elbows touching, in the same
way that the other two had been. This
time, Lupe used a large chunk of the main body of Belinda’s shirt to fill the
singer’s mouth before she slapped tape across her mouth, binding it down with
cloth.
The
Baroness looked at the line of hog-tied women at her feet. All three strained their necks upwards for a
second, before it became too much and they had to settle
their cheeks back on to the concrete floor.
‘Well,
well,’ said the Baroness. ‘Three little
maids all in a row. ‘ She paused. ‘I’m
afraid that we have to leave you for a bit.
We’ve an errand top run. Don’t go
away.’ She turned on her heels and
turned. ‘Coming Lupe.’ She paused.
‘Ramon, bring the rest of their clothes.
They won’t be needing them again.
We’ll find somewhere to dispose of them on our
way.’
Belinda
looked up and watched Ramon gather up all the discarded clothing and dump it
into a black, plastic rubbish sack. He
even added Belinda’s shoes from where they lay on the
workbench.
The
Baroness looked around the workshop once more before she, Lupe and Ramon left
the building, locking the door behind them.
Belinda
pushed at the packing in her mouth, struggling to thrust it away from the rear
of her throat. She may have been stripped
and humiliated. She may have been left
hog-tied on the concrete floor, dressed in nothing but her bra and panties. But she was anything but defeated. The discarded blade was only ten or so feet
away from where she lay. As soon as the
sound of the door locking had dissipated, she began to move towards
it.
That was
easier said than done. They had known
what they were doing. Belinda was so
tightly bound that she had very little flexibility. The hog-tie had joined her wrists and ankles
as if they were one.
Worse
was the way her arms were tied. Her
elbows were joined so tightly, that the whole of her body was bowed. Her shoulders were wrenched back and use of
her arms was completely out of the question.
Very little part of her upper torso was in contact with the floor other
than her breasts.
Belinda
had no alternative but to take her weight on those very same breasts. At the same time she lifted her midriff a bit
and lurched forward, pushing her upper torso into the air the best she
could. She moved forward as far as she
could and then came down hard on to her breasts.
‘Hummmphh,’
Belinda breathed heavily into her gag.
She looked carefully to her side.
Jana head was now about six inches out of line with her own. That was all the distance Belinda had
managed.
She
pushed on her knees again. Once more her
body arched before coming down on to her thrust-out
breasts.
‘Hummmmppphh,’
Belinda repeated.
She had
moved another six inches. If the blade
were ten feet away that would mean another eighteen such
efforts.
What resources did she have besides the cushion of her ample
chest?
Well… there was the fact that, with her arms and legs nearly
joined together, a great deal of her strength was focused in one place, as
though she were possessed of a single, hugely powerful, limb. There wasn't much
she could do with it, of course… but there might be one thing.
As Jana watched, puzzled, Belinda slowly rolled herself on to
her side; she wasn't any closer to freedom that Jana could see. The bound
reporter then began to rock herself side to side, left to right, as best she
could. With some momentum built up, she then used one final roll to the right to
put her hands and feet in contact with the cold floor, and push with all the
strength in her arms and legs, elevating herself like a contortionist.
Belinda groaned into the gag, her muscles screaming a
protest, as she poised in her strange perch, body bent up and backwards, bound
hands and feet crushed by the weight they were supporting. With a huge effort,
she allowed herself to fall, now – to her left side.
She hit the floor hard, on her side, but it was not really
any more painful than slamming her breasts into the concrete had been. And
instead of being mere inches closer to the blade, she was now at least a foot
closer, maybe a foot and a half.
She lay there, for a moment, catching her breath. Could she
actually pull off this Circque du Soleil move enough times to reach the
blade? And would she have enough strength left to work it?
The only alternatives that came to mind were profoundly
distasteful… so she tried again.
Once more, the leverage of her fettered limbs was enough to
raise her body to her right, and crash down to her left; this time, she pushed
off with her aching leg muscles as she started to fall, and for her pains, was
rewarded with nearly two feet of movement this time… along with an even harder
collision with the floor.
Belinda moaned into her gag again, her eyes starting to tear.
There was no question of giving up – that was what made it so hard. Her only
alternatives were continuing captivity in the Baroness' clutches, or making the
effort required to escape.
Twice more, three times…just as Belinda was certain that her
punished body could endure no more, she slammed down with her shoulder on top of
the blade. She lay there for a few moments, weeping with relief.
No time to lose, though. Agonizingly, she wiggled herself
around until her quickly-numbing fingers were able to reach the edge, and turn
it. She couldn't reach her wrists, of course, but the cord that held her wrists
and ankles together was accessible – and, thankfully, pulled taut by her
position. Gasping through her nose, she closed her eyes, and focused all her
effort on sawing the blade back and forth for the half an inch or so that the
bonds permitted. The chill kept her hands from sweating excessively, so she only
dropped the damn blade twice. Each time she did, though, involved an agonizing
minute or two wasted on retrieval -- minutes she knew could not be spared.
Belinda could only guess how long it had been – ten minutes?
Fifteen? – before she felt the cord snap apart, and the blade was flung
maddeningly across the room!
Cursing into her gag, the desperate woman rolled over, got
her bound feet under her, and, none too steadily, stood up. Small, teetering
hops were all that the tight leg bondage would allow her, and it took far too
many of those to make it across to where the blade lay… she didn't care to think
what might have happened if she hadn't seen where it landed!
Gingerly, she bent down, feeling with her nearly-paralyzed
fingers, finally picking up the tiny blade.
She took great sobs of breath, then clamped her teeth down on
her gag, resigning herself to more of the terrible physical punishment, and
began to hop over to where Jana was tied.
Belinda carefully went into a crouch, the blade behind her
back, and slowly lowered her fingers until she felt the blade make contact with
the bonds at Jana's elbow. With cramping fingers, she sawed it back and forth;
after a desperate eternity or two, she felt the rope part, and heard a moan of
relief from her friend's stuffed mouth.
Both women paused for a moment, breathing heavily. Belinda
stood up again, to get some circulation back into her legs; then moved so that
the blade was above Jana's wrists, now, and once more crouched down.
Both women strained to look behind themselves, trying to keep
the tiny tool of their deliverance in focus. Belinda blinked sweat from her
eyes, and Jana did her best to grunt and nod to guide her in placing the blade.
With her elbows freed, Jana was able to move her wrists back and forth against
the blade, allowing for faster cutting than Belinda had managed with just her
fingers. Finally, the wrist bonds parted, and the blade once more slid from
Belinda's grasp and clattered to the floor. This time, though, they were much
better off – Jana's arms and hands were free!
The red-haired photographer lay on her face for a moment,
just moving her arms enough to try to get the blood flowing again. Knowing how
short was their window of opportunity, though, she placed her palms to the cold
floor, and pushed herself up to a sitting position. She could see the blade a
few feet away, and knew it would take but a moment or two to crawl over to it…
But removing the awful gag came first.
Jana
reached behind her head. Speed was of the
essence. Cursing her numb fingers, she
struggled with the knot.
‘Mmmmnggg,’
moaned Belinda, turning her back to Jana to indicate that it meant untie her
first.
With her
hands tied, Jana had coped with the gag – she had had to – but now they were
free, she couldn’t stand the packing in her mouth. As her retching started, she dragged at the
cloth covering. Bellinda retched
too. He exertions had finally caught up
with her. Jana finally got the cloth down
to her neck. She tugged at the edge of
the tape, ignoring the abrasion of her skin as she yanked it off. Then she spat out the hank of cloth. Belinda’s gag went next. With the circulation returning to her fingers,
she had less trouble with that one, and soon the reporter was expelling the
piece of shirt form her own mouth.
‘Thank
god,’ croaked Belinda, she still stood over Jana, hopping on bound ankles and
knees.’
‘Those
fucking maniacs have got a lot to answer for,’ Jana said hoarsely. ‘That strip was the most embarrassing thing of
my life.’
‘Get me
untied,’ Belinda hissed. ‘These elbow
ropes are killing my shoulders.’
A groan
from Diamond Dayle confirmed that Belinda was not the only one who wished to be
untied.
Her legs
still tied, Jana slid across the floor to where Belinda had dropped the
blade. Soon she had Belinda’s wrists and
elbows cut free.
‘Why do
you think they wanted to humiliate us so much?’ Jana asked as she worked on the
rope around her knees.
Belinda’s
fingers were unable to make any headway on the knot at her knees. Instead, she took hold of the front of her bra
and eased it back into position. Her
struggles across the floor had disarranged it enough to cause discomfort. ‘Beats me,’ she offered. ‘Just fun, I guess. She had her suspicions. But she thought that these were better left
unvoiced. ‘All I know is that if we don’t
get out of her soon, we could be in for more of the same.’
‘Righto,’
Jana agreed. She released her own ankles
and handed the blade to Bellinda. While
the reporter released her own knees and ankles, Jana followed Belinda in putting
her own bra back into place. ‘Did you see
the way that Mexican woman looked at us when we were undressing?’ she asked
quietly. ‘The guy I can understand. But
her.’ She hooked her thumbs into the rear
of her panties and eased them gently into place.’
‘Yes,
Belinda confirmed, as her legs came completely free. ‘And she really seemed to enjoy tying us
up. In fact, they both did, even if the
baroness seemed to want to take professional pride in it.’
‘I
thought they were going to keep us naked,’ Jana continued, as Belinda, now free
turned to Diamond Dayle.’
‘Yea,’
said Belinda. ‘I really think we have to
get out of here.’
‘I’m not
going anywhere dressed in just my underwear,’ Diamond Dayle announced
preposterously, as soon as she too had been untied.
‘We need
to get out of here before they come back,’ Belinda stated
firmly.’
‘You go
if you must,’ Diamond remonstrated. She
turned back to the room and began to look for something to
wear.
‘There’s
nothing,’ Jana said. ‘We’ll have to go
like this.’
‘What
about upstairs?’ Diamond said, eyeing the wooden stairway in the corner of the
room.
‘I’ll
go,’ Belinda volunteered.
‘Me
too,’ said Diamond Dayle.
The
singer made the first move towards the stairs.
Belinda followed. Diamond Dayle’s
lustrous hair draped down her back like a curtain. It completely hid the rear of the singer’s bra
and dangled down around the top of her panties.
When she
got to the top of the stairs, Diamond Dayle turned and looked back at
Belinda. Even from the front, her hair
did a pretty good concealment job, hanging down over her shoulders to cover both
her breasts. It didn’t fall as far down
her stomach as the top of her panties, but even so. Belinda looked down the front of her own
body. Her breasts were held upwards and
outwards by the underwire of her own bra, and the lacy cups did little to
conceal her cleavage.
‘Hurry
up,’ Jana hissed. ‘Let’s humour her and
get out of here.’
Belinda
realised that she had stopped momentarily.
So, as Diamond raced into the room, she speeded up and raced to the top
of the stairs. The top floor of the
workshop was little more than a junk room.
But a pile of newly-bought books on a makeshift desk immediately caught
Belinda’s eye.
The
reporter went straight to the ledgers, ignoring Jana’s and Diamond Dayle’s
search for covering. Soon she discovered
a gold mine. The large books seemed to
contain the details of sales of automobiles, but Belinda could tell from an
infantile code that one page in the first of the books contained the information
she needed.
‘Hurry
up. Llet’s go,’ Jana hissed. She had found a length of cloth, which she now
wore around her waist, concealing herself from the navel downwards. Diamond stood beside her. She had found a similar length of
material. But her petite size allowed her
to wear it sarong-style, twisted around her body, so that it covered her from
just above her breasts to mid thigh.
‘I’m on
to something here,’ Belinda said. ‘It maybe just the evidence we
need.’
‘Who
needs evidence?’ Diamond Dayle snapped.
‘I’ve been kidnapped, stripped, bound and gagged. They’re gonna get life as soon as I get out of
here.’
Belinda
noticed the “I” rather than “we”. She
tore the relevant page out of the ledger.
‘You
go,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll
follow.’
The
reporter watched Jana and Diamond retreat down the stairs. Quickly, she folded the page into four. She considered tucking it into her bra, but it
was too big. Instead, she pushed it into
the front of her panties. The top of the
rectangle of paper was fully held inside the small mound-hugging triangle of
material that comprised the front of the garment. But the bottom corners stuck out on either
side and dug into the very tops of her thighs.
Belinda
stood at the desk for a few more minutes, leaning forward, her breasts hanging
slightly in the cups of her bra. She felt
absurd standing there in just her underwear.
It was a bad dream a researcher might have, being forced to work in her
bra and panties in an archive. She found
another incriminating page in the second volume.
Belinda tore this one out as well, and it joined then first in the front
of her panties. She began to leaf through
the third book. Now she knew exactly what
she was looking for it took only a few minutes to locate the relevant page. Someone had hidden details of all the illicit
transactions in the normal ledger books.
Perhaps, it was the Baroness. She
was after all Teutonically thorough-going.
She’d probably want a record. But
why keep it in the workshop and why hide it.
No, Belinda guessed it was Bullard.
If he were working for the Baroness and Lupe, he might need a record as
leverage. Belinda smiled. Nearly naked she might be. Bound and gagged she might have been. But she hadn’t lost her eye for a lead. All she had to do was get out of there. As she peered into the room to see if she too
could find something to cover herself with, Belinda gauged that Jana and Diamond
Dayle must have got to the road by now.
All they had to do was find a car and …
‘Get in
there, Frauleins.’
The
German voice froze Belinda. Gingerly, she
made her way to the top of the stairs and peered down. Jana Riley and Diamond Dayle stood
side-by-side flanked by Ramon and Lupe.
Their hands were behind them, no doubt tied, and their mouths were hidden
under silver tape. At least three strips
covered the lips of each woman, and from the bulge in their cheeks, it was
evident that their mouths had been packed full, before it was put on. Their makeshift coverings had been removed,
leaving both once again in only her bra and panties, and their underwear was
scandalously brief, as was her own.
‘Look for the other one,’ the baroness ordered.
‘I’ll take care of these two.’
Neither
Lupe nor Ramon made a move up the stairs.
But Belinda retreated away from the stairs anyway. In her new position, she could look down out
of an interior window at the Baroness, Jana and Diamond, this time at their
backs. From her angle, the reporter could
see that both women did have their hands tied behind them, this time with wrists
crossed. Given her experience thus far at
the hands of the baroness, Belinda surmised that it was a temporary binding, no
doubt put in place at the time of their capture.
She was
to be proved right. As she watched, the
baroness released Jana’s hands, twisted them palm-to-palm, and tied them
tightly, cinching the binding and leaving a long end trailing on the floor. Then she looped more rope around Jana’s arms,
just above the elbow, and pulled. Even
upstairs, and even through all that copious packing and tape, Belinda could hear
the pained squeal, emanating from Jana, as her elbows were pulled together until
they met. The baroness, however, took no
notice, merely adding to Jana’s distress by cinching her elbow tie. Belinda watched as Diamond Dayle’s arms were
re-tied the same way.
Up on
the top floor, Belinda cast her eyes for an alternative way of exiting. If only she could get away, she might summon
help. But first, she had to hide the
pages from the ledgers. If they were
found on her, the evidence would go. The
room was carpeted with a worn, maroon-red covering. It couldn’t quite be described as wall-to-wall
carpet. Across from her the floorboards
were bare. That gave the reporter an
idea.
Careful
to keep as quiet as possible and out of sight of the stairway, Belinda skirted
around the upstairs area, until she was in the opposite corner. Now, she could again see down the stairs with
a front view of the captives.
Pulling
the elastic away from the bottom of her stomach, she edged the folded papers out
of her panties, and carefully poked them through a gap in the floorboards, one
by one. No one would ever look
there.
Downstairs,
the baroness was tying a new length of rope around Jana’s waist, pulling it so
tight that it sank into her flesh. She
knotted it above the navel and then reached between Jana’s legs, pulling the
dangling end through. She took that
upwards, so that it bisected the two-tone, peach-coloured panel that comprised
the front portion of Jana’s panties, tucked it under the waist rope and
pulled.
The
gagged shriek that followed made the one when Jana’s elbows were tied pale in
comparison.
‘There,
fraulein, that should discourage you from making another escape attempt,’
the baroness sneered, as she knotted the crotch rope at Jana’s middle. It pulled the base of Jana’s panties upwards
into her mound.
Belinda
felt nothing but sympathy for her friend and colleague. But it made her only more desperate that one
of them should get away. It would have to
be her. But unless the baroness moved,
escape down the stairs was impossible.
‘Ramon,
put these two in Fraulein Dayle’s Bentley,’ the baroness called, as she
had knotted a length of rope around Diamond’s waist. ‘It’ll be fun.
No? They’ll be sitting in the back
seat, nicely bound and gagged, and in only their tiny little underthings, and
thanks to Diamond Dayle’s famous thirst for privacy … ‘
She
paused to reach between Diamond Dayle’s legs.
The singer squealed into her copious gag as the rope was pulled upwards
and fastened extremely tightly.
‘…. and
the reflective glass she put in, they’ll be able to see out. But nobody will see in. Help will be so near and yet so
far.’
The
baroness paused. Belinda watched as Ramon
led Jana and Diamond Dayle towards the car.
Then, unexpectedly, the baroness moved to the foot of the stairs. Instinctively, the reporter crouched behind
the nearest crate. She was convinced that
the baroness couldn’t see her. But she
wanted to make sure.
‘Now,
Fraulein Carver,’ the baroness called.
‘I know you are upstairs.
Normally, I am quite happy to play games.
But, now, we haven’t got time. So
I’ll make you a deal. Come down now, and
give yourself up, and I’ll tie you up in that nice, underwired, lace bra and
those tiny, string-sided panties you’re wearing.
Make me come up and get you, and I’ll have Lupe strip you naked
first. Now which is it going to be,
fraulein?’