Snatched (3 page)

‘Go through there,’ was the woman’s terse command, pointing towards the hedge. Leah walked forward and the lead at her neck stretched and played out, allowing her to push her way through the foliage while the woman stayed at the car. Leah turned and, seeing that she was completely screened from her captors and any passing motorists, squatted down on the bank. She looked behind and noted that the next tree line was over a hundred yards away across the field. She could easily detach the lead clip and run for it but in her dire need to relieve herself and with her hands in cuffs she knew she had no chance. The lead would zip back immediately and alert them of her escape, and even lumbering old Huw would be through the hedge and catching her up before she was even half way to safety.

It took painful seconds for her bladder muscles to relent and allow her stream to jet onto the hardened earth, forming a pool that flowed away from her towards the hedge. The trees began to rustle and she stared wide-eyed as Huw suddenly appeared through the branches. She sobbed into her gag but her flow was too strong to abate by now and she just had to keep going. He came right up to her, wordlessly watching her stream. Leah was embarrassingly aware of the strong smell of her concentrated urine and the loud noise it made, hitting the ground hard and fizzing like the electricity cables away to their left.

Huw moved next to her, side-on so that his crotch was level with her right cheek. He then put his hand to his groin and with the noise of his zip coming undone still resounding in her ear, he hauled out a huge cock, right in front of her face. She caught the scent of his manhood as he unceremoniously peeled the foreskin back from the fat glans. Despite his large hands his cock still looked thick and powerful, even in its slumber. Her fright could not stop her peeing and her stream carried on remorselessly. She cried out as he pushed his hips out a little more and a sudden jet of liquid burst from his penis. She could now only smell his urine, his torrent gushing just inches in front of her face, parallel to her gag-stuffed lips.

He finished just before her, shaking his member lazily so that she could see the remaining droplets fly around. As the last drop flew, he flipped his penis up and towards him, and she felt the shaft brush the tip of her nose before he pushed his hips back and somehow stuffed it back into his jeans. He then turned to her and removed her gag.

‘Wipe yourself,’ was all he said.

Reluctantly, Leah took the knickers and applied them to her sex, careful not to lift her skirt too much and allow him a view. She was dripping from her gush and her face burned as she was forced to towel herself for eternal seconds with the already damp fabric to take up as much wetness as she could. When she was finally done he clicked his fingers and signalled for her to return the sodden underwear. Before she could even think to turn her head away, they were forced back into her mouth and she was being guided back through the gap in the hedge. The dog lead was only removed once Leah was in the car and the doors safely shut.

‘You must wear this for now,’ the woman said, fitting a sleep-mask over Leah’s head and blotting out the bright early afternoon light, ‘and you must stay lying down. Just do as I say and you will be fine.’

On the stereo, Tammy, having dished out her tips on how to stand by your man, had now backtracked somewhat and was instead apparently in the throes of a D.I.V.O.R.C.E. Leah’s thoughts went to her man, knowing that Thomas would already be home and would have found the envelope on the kitchen floor. With a chill she remembered her captor telling her to pray her husband did his part
.
Leah had no idea what Thomas’s part was to be, but she was silently screaming out for him, hoping against hope that he would somehow find her and carry her to safety. The car just kept on going though, taking her further and further away until she began to wonder if there could possibly be any way back.

Two

The final stretch of the journey was an interminable trek around winding country roads that finally finished in the middle of the afternoon. After being released from the car and her blindfold, Leah blinked into the brightness to find that they had arrived at what appeared to be a working farm, complete with all the inherent buildings, machinery and smells. The farmhouse itself was of creeper-clad grey stone and a slate roof, while at the far end at right angles was a matching stable block with a neat row of white doors. Directly behind the house were trees, and to all other sides beyond the lawn were fenced fields and paddocks with horses, sheep and cattle dotted across the large green expanse. The ground rose to distant wooded hills in every direction and the few electricity cables in view was proof enough that the area was remote indeed.

Leah was ushered towards the house on legs stiff from the journey, and although still conscious of her plight, her fear had abated and left her merely exhausted. It was hard to feel too scared in the beautiful surroundings and glorious sunshine. To her surprise and exasperation Leah was led past the farmhouse door by the woman, and onward to the stables. They entered the large block at the end nearest the house, and Leah’s nose was immediately filled with the fug of hay and warm animal, although it was mercifully cooler in there than outside.

Inside, the stalls were set back from the front wall so that a corridor ran the length of the building between the feed storage at one end and the tack room at the other. Each stall was enclosed by a mid-height door and separated from the next by a six foot high partition. The first stall contained a wide-barrelled brown pony, displaying its rear end to the visitors and acknowledging their entrance with indifference. Leah was lead past two more stalls and stopped outside the fourth and last, which displayed a little wooden plaque bearing the inscription “Home Sweet Home”.

What was far less welcoming was the sight of a single mattress and pillow on the floor, a rolled-up sleeping bag and an empty tin bucket. There was layer of fresh hay beneath her bedding and strangely, in the back corner, what appeared to be a small black iron cannonball, not much larger than a grapefruit. Draped over the side of her stall was a multi-coloured sock in thick towelling. Leah knew nothing of horses or riding but she was sure that all the items in there were not leftovers from some previous equine occupant and were intended specifically for use on her.

The gag was removed and Leah waggled her aching jaw from side to side and tried to salivate to wet her parched throat. A series of instructions followed and she was compelled to unroll her sleeping bag and place it properly on the mattress, kick off her shoes, don the single sock on her right foot and then stand against the far wall. The woman went to the cannonball and for the first time Leah realised that it was in fact a ball and chain, the thick links curled around beneath the body of the sphere and leading to a lockable cuff. The woman bent and fastened the cuff over the towelling sock, clearly in place to prevent chaffing, fed a padlock through two eyes in the metal and clipped it shut. The woman straightened up again and looked right into Leah’s eyes.

‘This isn’t strictly necessary,’ she said, ‘since there is nowhere to run to. However I know that the temptation will prove too much and so I am doing it for your own good, as any disobedience on your part will prove very painful.’

As she spoke, the woman at last removed the handcuffs and then turned and exited the stall, leaving Leah alone with the pony, which whinnied in derision and loudly broke wind. It was difficult to quantify her current position, but it was clearly not a good one. She felt wretched and unclean, slightly nauseous from the smell of the stable on top of her hunger, and absolutely desperate for water. There was sweat at her brow and underarms. Her puss felt hot and agitated from her earlier unresolved titillation and from having her thighs pressed so tightly together on the long journey. She was knickerless and her dress was beginning to cling uncomfortably to her skin, plus she was wearing a ridiculous stripy sock along with a medieval contraption designed to prevent her from running away.

Her meekness was also troubling her. She had hardly spoken a word since the abduction began and had offered precisely no resistance whatsoever. The woman exuded an unremitting menace that Leah was simply unable to counter. Every time a thought of escape occurred it was accompanied with a vision of her detection and the subsequent suffering of Mrs Davies’s vengeance. The punishment she envisaged was always of a sexual nature - a harsh thrashing on her bare buttocks perhaps, or maybe even having her quim spanked scarlet and then repeatedly shocked by some hand-held electronic device. It was probably these thoughts that kept her away from panic and persisted in sending little teasing jolts to her already prickly sex, although they were derived more from her earlier fantasy of Miss Pierce rather than from any specific threat this woman had issued. However, when her underwear had been taken down back at the house, she had seen the woman’s eyes and they carried the unmistakeable look of lust.

There seemed little else to do but sit, so she tugged the chain and moved the ball to the foot end of the mattress and sat down. She had often had fantasies of being pushed to the limits of endurance by a Mistress, but fancy was no match for fact and the reality was that her thirst was becoming intolerable, and the more she pondered her situation, the more nervous she became. After maybe another half-hour, during which she considered several times calling out for attention only to be silenced by the memory of her earlier gagging, she heard footsteps in the courtyard and then the outer door in front of her stall was thrown open and she was bathed in sunlight.

Gwendolen Davies stood at the entrance, her suit now swapped for the more appropriate riding trousers and T-shirt, both still in black. Instead of heeled shoes she now sported a pair of shiny leather riding boots that brought the images of Miss Pierce flooding back. She was carrying a tray with a plate of sandwiches and possibly the most beautiful thing Leah had ever seen: a whole litre bottle of cola, dripping with condensation and obviously straight from the fridge. She approached and set the tray carefully down upon the stable floor.

These were no meagre rations. The crusty bread was thick cut and fresh, possibly home-made and covered in bright yellow butter. Inside were fat slices of carved ham along with lettuce and cucumber. Next to the plate was a jar of English mustard, a knife, an empty glass and a serviette. For a P.O.W. it probably represented everything they needed in order to fashion a release, bribe a guard and construct a glider to get them over the border. To Leah it simply seemed like one of the most sumptuous feasts ever, and she wasted no time grabbing the bottle and gulping down great mouthfuls of the cold, gassy liquid. The woman watched her with something like scorn, but offered no admonition.

As the captive set about the sandwiches, the captor slowly paced up and down as if running things over in her head. Leah couldn’t help but notice the woman’s behind looked even more inviting in the trousers than it had in the skirt. It stuck out in a fulsome curve and looked muscular and shapely rather than just fat - perhaps testament to the riding she obviously did. As Leah bit into the delicious thick meat of her sandwich, she couldn’t help but think of the woman displaying her lovely rump in front of her and forcing her to gorge on her buttocks as hungrily as she attacked her meal. Mrs Davies seemed to be waiting to speak, so Leah set down her sandwich and offered her full attention.

‘By now your husband will be aware of our demands and instructions. I hope for your sake that he does precisely as we ask. As you can see, we are completely isolated here. We get very few visitors, and most around these parts are either old friends or family, so do not expect any rescue attempts. We will communicate with your husband again tomorrow, when Huw is in the village and can get a signal from his phone. It is pay-as-you-go, by the way, so it is untraceable.’

The woman seemed to be smugly enjoying her taste of power and Leah realised that the attention to detail of the plot certainly made her own position more precarious. Without warning, the air from her fizzy drink and scoffed sandwich suddenly made a re-appearance and she surprised herself with a little involuntary burp. She went red and clapped her hand to her mouth, whispering an apology. The woman glared at her for several withering seconds before resuming her spiel.

‘Your instructions are simple: do as I say and nothing else. If I see that you can behave, I will allow you into the house. I will do my best to ensure that you are looked after and protected, especially from Huw. He has a fondness for pretty girls and especially their nice tight backsides. He likes to take what I won’t give him, you see. Anyway, I will attempt to keep him away from you, although he is a crafty bastard and sometimes slips the net.’

Leah knew she was gawping at the woman but the sudden threat had sent a shiver right through her. Even flaccid, Huw’s member had looked painfully difficult to accommodate within any passage, let alone in a rigid state and up her little bottom. Until now her panic had always been tempered with the sexual undercurrent, real or imagined, of being under this woman’s power. Now the real risk loomed of being forcibly buggered by the husband and his huge cock, and Leah could feel her most private place nervously drawing in on itself. A second sudden burp caught her before she could block it with her palm, even louder this time, punctuating the woman’s last sentence. In any other situation it would have been funny. The look of thunder spreading over Mrs Davies’s face suggested it was now anything but. She waited maybe ten stony-silenced seconds before resuming.

‘As I was saying, I will attempt to keep you safe. The twins will be here soon. They will be in charge of your hygiene and overseeing your day to day chores. While you are here I will expect you to work and -’

A third involuntary burp popped from Leah’s mouth before she had even begun to recover from the shame of the last. The interruption was clearly the last straw for the woman and her face darkened once more and she moved forward menacingly as Leah cowered.

‘Pick that up!’ she yelled, pointing to the black iron ball at the side of Leah’s mattress. She mutely complied, having to gather the weight in both hands and hold it to her tummy. As soon as she had a grip, she felt a sharp tug on her hair, and the woman lifted her bodily so that she was standing. She was then dragged by her hair down the corridor to the end stall, where the door to it was unbolted and flung open. Leah was greeted with the sight of the brown pony’s large rear end. The occupant neighed but remained static as Leah was pushed into the stall. The woman was beside her, taking the animal’s tail and lifting it so that Leah could now experience the rather unpleasant sight and smell of its thickly rimmed oval back passage. Squealing as her head was thrust forward to give her a closer view, she tottered about, struggling to maintain her balance and still keep hold of the iron ball, fearing she may fall face first against the animal’s backside.

‘If you interrupt me again, you gassy little bitch, I will shove your face right into this horse’s arse. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes!’

‘Yes what?’

‘Yes - I understand!’

‘No, you little slut- what do you
call
me?’

‘Yes,
Mrs Davies
.’

Leah yelped and jerked precariously forward as the woman delivered a sharp slap to her buttocks.

‘You are to call me “Mistress”. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Mistress!’

Despite her current position, Leah felt an involuntary tingle between her legs at the word. There was no disguising the sexual connotation to it, or the measure used for censure which was still fizzling across the surface of her bottom. Mercifully she was dragged back out and the hand on her hair released its grip and instead gave her a shove in the back to propel her towards her own stall once more. She stood chastened, still quivering from the woman’s words and from the close encounter with the danger end of the pony, the ball fast becoming too heavy to hold. She was only dimly aware of the sound of hooves clopping on the courtyard as she was put back into her quarters and ordered to sit down.

There were sounds of creaking doors and then new light burst into the interior of the stable and the noise of the hooves amplified. Leah could hear the soft snorting of horses and the clipped Home-Counties accent of a chattering female. The woman turned and disappeared from view as she moved to greet the arrivals, and from what Leah could gather there were two new females present, although it was hard to tell as the voices sounded the same, and one seemed for the main part to be speaking for the both of them.

There was no mention of their captive as the horses were put back in their boxes and their tack removed, just a chat about the ride and how the mounts had behaved or misbehaved in one case. Then the Mistress was speaking in lower tones and she suddenly reappeared, along with a very pretty blonde in her early twenties, whose face split apart with a sneering smile of delight as she caught sight of the wretched prisoner.

‘So this is her,’ the blonde said, the smile retreating and her teeth gritting as she eyed Leah up and down with something between lust and amused contempt. ‘She doesn’t look rich. Her husband
is
going to be able to pay up, isn’t he?’

‘It’s not
his
money we are after,’ replied the Mistress.

Leah remained silent as the two regarded her. The younger girl was very pretty and doubtless knew it. Her hair was pulled into the seemingly compulsory pony tail of country girls, but apart from that she could easily have been mistaken from the neck up for a modern city-dweller. Her eyebrows were neatly plucked and jet black, indicating her natural colouring. She wore make-up, giving her skin a soft and slightly glittery appearance. Her eyes were dark brown with long lashes and Leah had noticed that her earlier smile had exposed a set of very white and very straight teeth, the upper canines slightly elongated, giving her a sexy but sinisterly wolfish grin. Her nose was probably the feature that most defined her face. It was almost L-shaped, with a thin, barely protruding bridge that ran into a long and straight nib. When she had smiled the tip had turned up slightly, adding to the appearance of a snarling carnivore.