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Amanda Thornton looked angrily at Henry Baxter. 'And what if I refuse?'

'The I get Joe here to hold you, while I strip you myself,' the woman interjected. 'And I won't be gentle.'

'Now, now, Alyssa, don't be spiteful,' Henry Baxter chided his daughter. 'I'm sure that Agent Thornton here is quite willing to disrobe on her own accord.'

Amanda humphed and then stooped and pulled the ankle boot from her left foot. She had no doubt that spitefulness would be nothing by the side of what would happen to her if this unpleasant young woman had her way. She dropped the boot on the floor in front of her and then lifted her right foot and removed its partner.

'Give them here.'

Amanda passed the boots to Baxter who examined them before tossing them over to Joe.

'Now the sweater, my dear.'

Amanda eased the tight woollen sweater over her head, making sure that she did not dislodge the T-shirt below, and passed it to Baxter. This time he gave it straight to the large man without looking at it.

'And the pants.'

Amanda's slacks fastened on her left hip. Gingerly, she unhooked and unzipped the garment and eased it down her long legs. This time she passed it straight to the big man. A small white triangle of cotton was now visible below the hem of her pink T-shirt. Her feet were still clad in grey ankle socks.

'Satisfied?' Amanda asked.

She knew he wouldn't be. She had only asked to annoy him.

'T-shirt,' he demanded.

Amanda pulled the shirt over her head and handed it to the large man. She stood there in bra, panties and socks.

'Lose the socks.'

She stooped again and plucked off the two socks; then tossed them over.

'Hands on head,' Alyssa snapped. 'It's search time.'

Whereas Henry Baxter was affably polite, his daughter was terse and aggressive. Amanda decided that compliance was best. She raised her hands to her head.

The woman's hands on her breasts irritated her.

'No,' Amanda squealed and pulled away.

'Just checking you haven't got a razor blade hidden in one of your bra cups in case of emergencies,' Alyssa sneered. 'If you'd rather take your bra off, I'm happy to oblige you.'

Amanda snarled but stood there placidly while the blonde prodded and probed her bra cups.

She then turned her attention to Amanda's lower parts. But she patted the front and rear of her tiny panties more for enjoyment than for any real purpose. As soon as she had finished, Amanda lowered her hands and folded them over her chest defensively.

'Joe, you'll find Dr Lampton's clothes in the utility room. Take both those and Agent Thornton's things out to the furnace and burn them,' Baxter ordered. 'Then come back here.' He turned to Amanda and Becky. 'As I was telling Dr Lampton only a couple of hours ago, if you co-operate your stay here will be relatively comfortable. Fail to do so and you'll be treated less well. As soon as Joe returns you'll be taken upstairs and tied to beds. I advise you to behave.'

'You intend to keep us tied up in just our underwear,' Amanda snapped. 'And you call that making us comfortable.'

'I doubt if you would prefer the alternative, Agent Thornton. Now, put your hands back on your head. And you Dr Lampton join her.'

Accompanied by Alyssa Baxter's giggles, both women did as they were told. Unable to use their arms to resist prying eyes, they stood there helplessly in their underwear until Joe returned.

'Done, boss,' he snarled on his return. That was the first time Amanda had heard him speak.

'All right,' Baxter announced. 'I have a guest to see to. I'll leave you two in my daughter's tender hands.'

______________________________________________________________________

'I mean it,' Rommy said, as assertively as she could. 'If Mia's not back by this evening, I'm going to the police. I'll tell everything.'

Paul looked at her venomously. 'I wouldn't do that, if I were you,' he said sneering.

Rommy was momentarily taken back by his aggressiveness. Then, she recovered her composure.

'And why not?' she asked. After all I only stole the programme in the first place because you persuaded me that it was the only means of avoiding industrial espionage.'

Paul moved until he was looking at her directly in the face.

'Oh, Romelia,' he chuckled. 'You can't really be that naive. It's we who have committing the industrial espionage. And, if anything goes wrong, it's you who's going to go to prison. Not just for a couple of months, as you seem to think. But for ten to fifteen years. How old will you be when you get out, Rommy, forty three? Where will the best years of your life have gone?'

He got up and strode aggressively through one of the bar's front entrances. Rommy watched him leave. As he did so, a beautiful young woman with long raven-coloured hair came into the bar. She was wearing tight blue jeans and leather bomber jacket. As she entered, she unzipped the jacket to reveal a tight, dark-coloured sweater below. She looked around, muttered 'shit' loudly, re-zipped the jacket and went back out.

Rommy sat there worrying for a few more minutes, before finishing her own drink, and then gathering up her coat. Five minutes later, she was on her way back to her cottage.

______________________________________________________________________

'You two had better get dry,' the tall woman said. 'Neither of you is going to be any use to me if you've got hypothermia. And you,' she barked at Melinda, 'had better get those wet clothes off, before you catch pneumonia.'

Debra began to towel her wet hair, only too aware of the effect of such vigorous activity on her bare and unsupported breasts. The hog-tied woman lay motionless on the floor, her mouth stretched around a gigantic knot in the cloth gagging her, her eyes still tightly blindfolded.

'There's some of my dry clothes up in the main bedroom,' Melinda said. 'Can I get them?'

The woman snarled. 'Don't push it, sweet cheeks,' she said crossly. "Keep your panties on if you're shy. You'd still be more decent than Thong Woman over there.'

Debbie saw words begin to form on Melinda's lips. But clearly, whatever she was going to say, she decided against it. Instead she gathered up her towel and started to dry her hair. Then, she began to undress. In no time at all, her shoes, jacket, blouse, and skirt lay at her feet. She wore a fairly full bra, expensive and patterned in broderie anglaise and a knee-length waist-slip. The wetness of the bra made its cups all but transparent and the slip was plastered to her legs.

Debbie finished drying herself and then wrapped the towel around her body, tucking the loose end in under her left armpit. The towel covered her from just above her breasts to just below her crotch. Melinda pulled off her half-slip and pantyhose off in one go and stood there in bra and panties. The panties were brief and high-cut, patterned similarly to her bra. Like the half-slip, they clung to her with wetness.

'Satisfied?' she asked.

'You heard. The bra goes too.'

Melinda cursed, then reached behind her back and unhooked the bra. Seconds later she was swaddled in a towel the same was as Debbie.

'Is there any rope in the house?' the tall woman asked Melinda.

'Melinda paused. 'Why?' she whimpered.

'Why do you think, sweet cheeks? I'm gonna truss you two lovebirds up. When I've finished you'll hardly be able to move.'

Debbie looked down at the hog-tied woman, at the manner in which her elbows were crushed together in the small of her back, and at the way her jaw strained around whatever gagged her, and didn't doubt it.

'I-in t-the cupboard behind you.' Melinda stuttered, next to her.

The cupboard was brimming with rope.

'My, my, you don't do anything by halves, do you sweet cheeks?' the woman said, pulling out several roles of climbing rope. 'Now, here's the drill. I want to ask our scientist friend here some questions. And I expect you two to be as quiet as church mice while I do so. Now you two must be cold and you know what they say about avoiding coldness, cuddling up together conserves body heat. So I want you two to take those damp towels off and then hug one another, tit to tit. Do you understand?'

Debbie and Melinda understood.

'Not with that bimbo,' Melinda howled. 'Tie her up however you want, but leave me out of it.'

'I'm not who ...' Debbie started.

'Just shut up and do it,' the woman shouted. There was a second pop, just like the one by the pool. This time the bullet shattered a jar of preserved fruit on one on the shelves.

Stunned, both women plucked their towels off nervously and moved towards one another. Once again, the cold made Debbie's nipples prick up. To their mutual embarrassment, Melinda Lesalle's did the same.

If Paul Lesalle did indeed have a bimbo for a mistress, Debbie mused, he must be a very lucky man. Melinda Lesalle looked to be no more than thirty years old and had looks most women of that age would kill for. Her face was pretty, rather than beautiful, perhaps. But her body more than made up for that, with nice shapely breasts, about the size of Debbie's own, topping of a narrow waist, slender hips and long legs.

The two women stood in a loose embrace, their breasts touching, but not their hips. Debbie wrapped her arms around Melinda and felt Melinda do the same to her. Although Debbie was about an inch taller, the nipples just about met.

'Ha, ha, ha,' their captor groaned. 'Very funny. I said hug, sweeties, and I meant hug. Now do it. I want to see your boobs squashed together and your pelvises and pubes grinding against each other.'

Debbie pressed herself tentatively against the older woman, and felt Melinda do the same to her. Whereas Debbie's bikini bottom had more or less dried, Melinda's panties hadn't, and they felt damp against Debbie's skin. The tall woman grasped Debbie's wrists, pulling them well past each other before binding her forearms together. Her breasts squashed against Melinda's. The tall woman went round behind her, and she felt her torso squeezed in the other's embrace as Melinda's forearms were tied too. The woman then tied a length of rope around Debbie's right wrist. She pulled it as close as possible to Melinda's left wrist before tying it there. The procedure was then repeated with Debbie's left wrist.

'Comfy?' the woman asked.

Neither Debbie nor Melinda responded. The woman gathered up a new piece of rope and tied it around both waists, pulling their stomachs flat against each other. She knotted the rope in the small of Debbie's back, leaving a long end free.

'Legs apart.'

Neither Debbie nor Melinda had much appetite for that, but they had little option other than to obey. The woman took the long end downwards, between both pairs of legs and up to the small of Melinda's back where she anchored the rope with a double knot. Now, as the woman had promised, Debbie's pelvis was flattened against Melinda's.

Melinda squirmed and cursed Paul Lesalle's taste in female swimwear. The thong bottom did little or nothing to protect her from the rope that now dug in between her buttocks and she could feel its rough fibres begin to irritate her. At least Melinda had what small protection her panties offered.

However, the woman was still not finished. There was still rope dangling from Melinda's back, and she took this up over Melinda's forearms back down between their legs and up over Debbie's forearms. She then pulled it down, back between their legs and tied it off at Melinda's back. As their arms were pulled that bit further downward, both women found themselves squeezing their upper torsos together even more.

The rest was almost prosaic. The woman left them standing and bound the four legs together at thighs and knees. She inspected that rope work, before adjusting their feet so that Debbie's right foot was between Melinda's and Melinda's right foot was between Debbie's, and tying them off at the ankles. When she had fastened the last knot, they stood face-to-face like a statue.

'Now for gags,' the woman said. She collected Melinda's slip and blouse from the floor and a knife from a shelf. She examined the blouse first, removing both sleeves, before throwing the main piece back on the ground. 'That should do,' she announced, bunching up both pieces. 'Open wide.'

She stuffed one of the sleeves into Debbie's mouth. Debbie retched as the damp cloth went in. Melinda did likewise when her turn came. The woman then busied herself with the slip. She cut it first from hem to waist and then along the centre of this piece around its circumference. The result was two long strips of cloth. Debbie watched anxiously as she made a large knot in the centre of this.

All the time, Melinda had been working the cloth in her mouth as far forward as she could. She needn't have bothered. The woman pushed the wad back in before placing one of the knots between Melinda's teeth and then tying the gag off at the nape of her neck. Minutes later Debbie had been gagged the same way.

The woman gave Debbie's bottom a playful slap. Debbie groaned. But little sound emerged through her gag.

The tall woman moved over to the hog-tied woman on the floor. She was still gagged and blindfolded. The woman left the blindfold and ropes in place, but undid the gag and prised the knot from between her teeth. Debbie was amazed how much cloth came out after it.

'Now Dr. Lampton,' the woman said. 'I've not got much time to mess around. Either you tell me what I need to know, or what you've endured so far will seem like child's play.' She paused. 'Now, what did you do with the information on the disk?'

'Nothing,' she blurted. 'Nothing at all.'

The woman was silent for a minute.

'I believe you,' she said suddenly.

The relief in the Mia's voice was palpable. 'Thank you,' she croaked.

'Oh, don't thank me. It's the only obvious solution. What we have to do now is work out where it went. Tell me, have you left the disk unattended at any time?'

'N-no...,' Mia started.

'Suddenly, I don't believe you.' She rolled Mia over on to her bound arms and then began to unbutton her paisley shirt. As soon as she had revealed the front of the scientist's white bra, she pushed a hand into the right cup.

'Aaaagghh,' Mia screamed. 'Please stop. I left it at the cottage where I was staying.'

The woman removed her hand from Mia's bra cup.

'Who with?'

'A colleague.'

'Who?'

'Rommy Parsons.'

The woman reached down and straightened out Mia's right bra cup. Then, she refastened the shirt. 'I think I'll go and pay Miss Parsons a visit,' she said.

______________________________________________________________________

'There that should hold you two,' Alyssa quipped when she had tightened the last fastening. 'Now for your gags.'

When Alyssa had fetched the rope to tie them up, she had also collected a roll of duct tape and two large squares of cloth. She took one of these and folded it into a rectangle. Then she rolled the rectangle into a two and a half inch roll.

'Open wide,' she ordered as she brought it towards Becky's mouth.

Becky was sure that such a large wad would never go into her mouth. But she did as she was told anyway, and retched and gagged as all of the cloth was forced in, so that it filled her mouth completely. Meanwhile Joe tore off several strips of duct tape. The first of these went over Becky's mouth; but only after Alyssa had forced her lips together around the large mass of cotton. Several more strips then went across Becky's lower Jaw, first in an X-shape, then over the X.

'Now, its your turn,' Alyssa said to Amanda. 'I knew you'd have a big mouth, so I fetched an even larger peace for you.

The gagging of Amanda Thornton was accompanied by even more retching and gagging than Becky's. But once again, Alyssa got the whole rag in before sealing Amanda's pursed lips with multiple applications of duct tape.

'Now, my advice for you two is to lie still,' Alyssa explained to her captives. 'After all. Even if you do get free, which I doubt, you'll hardly going to get very far in only your bra and panties, are you? Any monkey business and I might just have to remove those too.'

She laughed out loud and then strode out of the room. The big man watched her leave and then round to the foot of Becky's bed. Her looked her up and down, and then let his gaze fix on the base of her panties. Becky tried to pull her thighs together; but found she couldn't.

'Um,' the man said, licking his lips. 'This job certainly has its advantages.'

______________________________________________________________________

Debbie and Melinda stood in the middle of the room nearly naked and shivering. The woman had re-gagged Mia Lampton with the same wad of cloth she had taken from her mouth and the same, knotted cloth and replaced her in the bag.

The woman opened her cell phone. She came over to the two bound women, undid Melinda Lesalle's gag, and prized the large piece of cloth from her mouth.

'Tell me your husband's mobile number,' she demanded.

'Go to hell.'

Debbie felt the Melinda's bare chest heave against her own as the woman's hand went to her left breast.

'The number?'

'I don't know it.'

'I think you do.'

The hand pushed between the two women. Debbie felt the back of the leather glove covered against her nipple and knew only too well what was happening. Melinda shrieked.

'Okay, okay,' she groaned.

The woman replaced Melinda's gag, tying it even tighter than before. Then she tapped in the number.

'Is that Paul Lesalle?' she said after a second or two.

There was a pause.

'I've got your wife here and your blond bimbo,' the woman said. 'If you exit the game now leave town immediately, you can have them both back in a week or two. Fail and they'll suffer.'

There was another pause. Debbie could make out the sounds of anger at the other end of the line.

'Yea, both are tied up and gagged and neither is wearing very much. And they don't seem to get on. You may not want them both back Mr Lesalle. But I'm sure you'll want one of them.'

She shut the phone off abruptly.

An hour ago, Debbie had been looking forward to a relaxing swim followed by a few beers. Now here she was, dressed in only a ridiculous thong bikini bottom, tied face to face with a woman wearing only panties, a jealous woman who seemed to think that she was her husband's lover, and threatened at best with two weeks of captivity, and at worse ... Well that didn't bear thinking about.

She shivered again, aware of Melinda's Lesalle's heightened anxiety as her chest heaved against Debbie's own.

Even though the utility room was growing cold, the near nudity was the least of their immediate. problems. The woman left them standing up in the center of the room, and, joking that they had to be careful not to fall over, linked one end of a length of rope to their ankles and the other to the handle of a large metal drum, which she found beneath one of the shelves. 'I have to go out,' she said. 'So I'll leave you here. I should be back before Lesalle thinks about looking in the utility room of his own home. Don't go away.'

That must have been her idea of a joke. But it was not one Debbie shared.

'First, blindfolds,' she said.

The woman cut up the remains of Melinda's blouse and made blindfolds for both of them. Small pads of cloth were placed across each eye and tied in place by a long length of shirt. Debbie heard her fiddling about with a few things before she left through the outside door.

'Don't go away,' she quipped as she shut it.

Debbie heard the door lock. After a second, she tried shouting.

'Mmmmm, mmmmph,' was all she got out before her gag reflex took over and she began to choke. She fought for breath, feeling her breasts heaving against those of her fellow captive before recovering. She doubted if she could be heard inside Mia Lampton's zipped-up bag, let alone outside the room.

Amy and Becky were due back soon. She could only hope that they arrived before the woman returned. But even if they did, they would never think of looking for her in the utility room. And as it was locked from the inside, they couldn't get in it anyway. The likeliest thing was that they would first enter the utility room when the woman returned and brought them in bound and gagged.

Debbie cringed at the thought. It was then that she felt Melinda Lesalle try to move.

______________________________________________________________________

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Chapter Eight

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