by Ashley Hind
‘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.
‘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 bloc
k 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.