Snatched (2 page)

The mere thought of this was enough to produce another little flood of excitement between her legs and have her scurrying back upstairs, only to be halted once more by the doorbell. She cursed again and descended, opening the door with impatient anger that evaporated into shock the moment she set eyes on her visitor. Standing on her doorstep, perusing notes on a clipboard, was none other than Miss Pierce.

‘Hello Mrs Ryder, my name is Gwendolen Davies. I shall be standing as an independent in the local by-election under the banner of “Save Our Hospital” - you’ve probably seen my leaflet?’

Leah had a vague recollection but was still too surprised to offer an answer and could only reply with a faint shrug. The woman was seemingly unperturbed.

‘Mr Ryder said we will have his full support. He said we could run through a brief questionnaire with him today.’

Leah finally found her voice.

‘He’s not in,’ she said.

‘Oh, I see. Then maybe you could? It won’t take a minute - perhaps I can come in?’

The woman
wasn’t
Miss Pierce of course, and the more Leah looked at her, the fewer similarities there actually were. She had the same black hair and the tight jumper filled with jutting breasts. Her face was sterner and less beautiful but she carried some of the same poise and air of absolute assured confidence, and perhaps it was this that prevented Leah from barring her entry, rather than the associated guilt of her husband’s error. Whatever the cause, she could only move back as the woman stepped into the hallway, and soon the door was shut and they were standing together, so close their breasts were almost touching.

This Gwendolen Davies launched into her chat about her policies but Leah wasn’t really listening. For a brief moment she thought that she must have seen the woman’s flyer and used her picture for inspiration for Miss Pierce. She dismissed this instantly though, since her fantasy figure was based wholly on a teacher of the same name from her schooldays. Thinking about it, she
did
have a vague memory of the flyer, and oddly didn’t remember the picture bearing any resemblance to the woman in her hall. Nor could she remember any reference to her being Welsh, which she clearly was by her accent. The woman was still talking at her but simultaneously pressing buttons on her mobile phone.

‘Mr Ryder said it would be OK to put up a window poster, if that’s acceptable?’

‘Er...I...’

‘Excellent. Huw?’ She was now speaking into her phone. ‘Poster for number six, please.’

The phone went back into the handbag and the woman flickered a smile before referring back to her clipboard to start the survey. She hadn’t even finished the first question when the doorbell went again. Disconcertingly, the woman herself opened the door and ushered in a large man. He didn’t particularly look the part with his jeans and checked shirt, his hair rough and uncombed and his huge hands clutching a little roll of paper. He bid a good morning, half in the direction of Leah, but was seemingly more interested in moaning to the woman.

‘I was just going to get a cup of tea - it’s thirsty work, this,’ he said, displaying an even stronger Welsh accent. Mrs Davies raised her eyebrows and turned back to her host.

‘This is my husband, Huw,’ she said with a tinge of disappointment. ‘Huw, put the poster in the front window and perhaps Mrs Ryder will make us a cup of tea while we do they survey?’

Leah was a bit shocked by the imposition but the husband was filling the hallway and she was feeling an almost claustrophobic requirement to move into more space. She was also unsure if even in her own house she possessed the strength to refuse the woman, so she found herself leading the way to the kitchen while the husband veered off into the front room, unrolling the poster.

He really was a big man, stooping habitually as he passed through the frame of the door, although there would have been a couple of inches clearance. He struck Leah as being somewhat rustic with his attire and rugged features, but maybe it was just his accent that formed her impression. He was of indeterminate age, perhaps mid-forties if the few grey hairs were anything to go by, and probably a little older than his wife. Clearly though, she ruled the roost. She seemed to exude strength and confidence like it was bursting from her pores, and that was why she was so reminiscent of Miss Pierce, and almost certainly why she was involved in the world of politics.

The woman chatted away amiably while the tea was made, steadfastly ignoring her questionnaire and instead airing her views on the shortfalls of government policy and the downturn in the standard of living. Leah was finding it all rather stimulating, not however because of the words being said but because of her inability to push the images of this woman as Miss Pierce from her mind. It was the round bottom and large breasts that did it, and the way they stretched her smart clothes as if wanting to burst through. Leah knew that as soon as the woman left, if time permitted, she would definitely head straight upstairs to the bedroom and her vibrator. It was an odd feeling having a local politician in your kitchen and being desperate for them to leave, not out of boredom, but out of an overwhelming urge to fantasise about them.

Leah dragged her eyes off the woman’s bosom as Huw came into the kitchen, took his tea and stood quietly in the corner to drink it. He offered no comment but the woman continued anyway, as if he wasn’t there.

‘It’s the thin end of the wedge, isn’t it?’ she was saying, although Leah hadn’t been listening so she wasn’t sure which thin wedges she was being asked to comment on. She instead offered an all-encompassing answer that seemed to fit in with the general tone:

‘Well, none of us know what’s round the corner do we?’

‘That’s very true,’ the woman nodded sagely, ‘except our Huw, here. He reads palms, don’t you Huw? He can tell the future.’

The man mumbled into his tea but didn’t get to see his wife’s sarcastic expression.

‘Go on - give Mrs Ryder an insight into your powers.’

The man stood slowly shaking his head, trying to ignore her, but she kept up her badgering, rather excessively considering she was obviously sceptical of his abilities. In the end, out of sheer exasperation the man relented, put down his mug and crossed over to Leah. He absolutely dwarfed her, being at least a foot taller and twice as wide. He softly asked her to hold out her hands, palm up, and he held her fingertips lightly as he bent forward to study the lines. Mrs Davies walked over too, throwing out another disparaging comment as Huw’s brow furrowed in concentration.

Leah didn’t really know what to say but felt oddly at ease now that the big man had a hold on her, however light his touch. She waited patiently for his words, bowing to the authority of his size and apparent wisdom. Mrs Davies moved in closer from the right and Leah suddenly caught the flash of silver in her periphery and then the cold slap of metal at her wrists. Her instinct to pull away was beaten by the sudden strengthening of the grip on her fingers, and she stood in shock looking at the handcuffs now securing her.

As the adrenalin started to unload through Leah’s belly and limbs, Mrs Davies stepped in, her finger coming up vertically to the captive’s lips as a sign for silence.

‘Your future is looking very bleak unless you do exactly as I say,’ she hissed, the sternness etched into every feature of her face, making Leah quake.

‘We are kidnapping you, so all you have to do is stay quiet, do as we say and pray your husband does his part. Can you do that? Can you stay quiet for us?’

Leah was shaking too much to speak. Mrs Davies came closer and leant in until their bodies touched. The bosom that had been so much on Leah’s mind was now squashing into her own, and she could feel the soft push of the woman’s soft crotch against the back of her hand. The stern expression softened and the hands came up to rest on Leah’s arms. It was almost tender. If it wasn’t for the fact the woman had just cuffed her, Leah might have thought she was about to be seduced.

‘Are you going to stay quiet for us? I’ll have to gag you otherwise.’

Mrs Davies was speaking softly now in her sing-song accent but Leah was still rendered speechless, the sobs in her throat blocking every attempt to answer. The woman shrugged and Leah felt the hands slide down her arms onto her waist and then rest at her hips. The woman then dropped to her knees, so that her face was level with Leah’s crotch, while her hands ever so gently continued their descent over the hips and outer thighs, sensitive even with the covering of her skirt. The hands stopped at Leah’s knees, just below her hemline, and traced tickling circles over the skin there. Then the hands were slowly ascending again, on the outside of the thighs, but this time inside the skirt so that the fingertips touched bare flesh. The woman continued her slow upward progress until she reached the top of the hips, with her fingers resting over the thin strands of fabric at the sides of Leah’s underwear.

Leah felt the woman’s thumbs go inside the strands and she knew instantly that her knickers were coming off. The woman maintained her eye contact, smiling all the while as she peeled the knickers slowly down. Leah could do nothing except feel her own chest heave uncontrollably and almost comically with her panicked sobs. She couldn’t even summon an ounce of resistance to prevent her feet being lifted in turn to aid the removal of her underwear. The woman clutched the cotton prize in her palm to examine them, a broad smile spreading over her face as the fabric gave up Leah’s secret.

‘They’re wet!’ Mrs Davies declared. ‘Were you playing with yourself before we came? Huw, she’s been playing with herself!’

The man just grunted a response but Leah couldn’t even look at him, her cheeks now scarlet red as the realisation mounted that the gusset would have been very wet indeed. The woman rose back up, holding the panties to her face, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, purring with satisfaction at the smell.

‘Have you been a naughty girl, my pretty?’

Mrs Davies leant forward, the underwear still pressed to her face, until Leah too could feel the fabric against her own nose and being sucked into her nostrils as she breathed, the knickers sandwiched between them as they shared her scent. To avoid suffocation, Leah’s mouth had to open, and she instantly felt fingers pushing the sodden material between her lips, feeding in the improvised gag so that she could now also detect the taste of her earlier arousal. The woman stepped back, eyeing Leah up and down hungrily, a smile of sly contentment spreading now that her victim was successfully cuffed and gagged.

‘It’s time to go now. Huw, go and bring the car round.’

As he left, the woman took out a brown envelope and placed it conspicuously in the middle of the kitchen floor. She then went over to Leah’s handbag and rummaged through the contents, checking specifically to ensure her mobile phone was inside before grabbing the bag and then the girl, and manhandling her back into the hallway. The woman went to her own bag and took out a collar, complete with a silver hoop at the front to affix a chain, and reached up to fasten it around her captive’s neck.

Leah stood obediently despite her panic, struggling to come to terms with the surreal situation. She was a part-time worker in the customer services department of a small town supermarket, and yet she was apparently being kidnapped. A beeping car horn outside signalled Huw’s arrival and the woman opened the door and checked the street before pushing Leah down the path and issuing her a terse instruction to get a move on. Most oddly of all, as Leah stepped into the summer warmth, instead of scanning the street, ripping out the gag and shouting for help, she actually stared straight ahead and hurried to the car, so embarrassed was she to be seen with a dog collar on and her pussy-wet knickers shoved in her mouth.

It had to be one of the simplest abductions ever. She got in and obeyed the instruction to lie across the back seat while Huw drove sedately away. Only once they were out of town and onto faster roads did the full extent of her situation hit her, and the fear began to rise. The couple in the front stayed relatively quiet, listening to a tape of Eva Cassidy - ironically one of Leah’s favourite singers. She didn’t know where they were headed but the route was fast and straight, and each mile passed was another further from her home. Even the most clueless of detectives would have been able to have a stab that they were on their way to Wales, although try as she might, she simple could not fathom why she had become the target of people coming from the other side of Britain.

She must have been dozing, as she suddenly blinked against the light, her eyes sore from her earlier sobbing and her ears full now of Tammy Wynette, imploring her to stand by her man. Her panty-gag was on the seat in front of her, and there was a glistening thread of spit trailing from it to her mouth. Most pressingly though, was the urgent ache from her bladder that told her that she very desperately needed the toilet. She tried to speak but her arid croak was no match for Tammy’s powerful warbling. She had to clear her throat and try several times before the woman took notice and turned around to look at her.

‘I need the toilet,’ she said.

The woman opened her mouth but Huw cut in.

‘Let her do it in her undies,’ he said.

‘She hasn’t got any on,’ chided the woman. ‘She’ll do it all over the seats and ruin the cloth.’

They still passed an agonising extra couple of miles before an appropriate place to stop was signalled by the bogus lady politician, who then got out and went to the boot before opening the back door, joining Leah on the back seat and making her sit up. She reapplied the knickers as a gag before fiddling at Leah’s collar and attaching the clip from a long extendable dog lead. Leah was instructed to get out of the car - not a second too soon as far as her bladder was concerned. They were parked in a lay-by fronting a line of small trees that formed a hedge boundary to the road. They were not on a motorway but probably an A-road, and there was a fairly steady flow of traffic passing that Leah could have tried to signal to if she had been around the other side of the car.