_______________________________________________________
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 nine,’ 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 the strain in their necks was 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.
‘Hummmpohh,’ 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 onto
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.
Al 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 Belinda
could see that their underwear was scandalously brief, as was her own.
‘Look for the other one,’ the baroness ordered. ‘I’ll take car of these.’
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?’