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Blindfolded, Amanda was unable to make any sense of the commotion surrounding her. But whatever was happening was causing Henry Baxter some irritation. His voice has gone up half an octave and his tone was more urgent.

'Get those two upstairs,' he snapped to someone, 'and tie them so tight, they won't be able to move, let alone escape again.'

Amanda and her fellow naked captive were hustled from the plush carpet on which they currently stood, across a shiny wooden floor and on to a rougher covering. Amanda recognized the carpet now under foot, as the one on the stairs down which she had recently descended. As they were herded back up to their prison, Amanda managed to stumble against the wall and dislodge her blindfold enough to see what was happening.

It was the large man who was accompanying them. He prodded and pushed their naked forms as they made their way up the stairs. When they were back in the bedroom, he looked both up and down, leering at their naked breasts and loins, before pushing both on to a bed.

Amanda peeped out beneath the lower edge of the cloth blindfolding her as he tied Rebecca to her bed. This he did by pulling her feet wide and lashing each to the corner of the frame. Finally, he looped a cord around her neck and fastened it to the bed head. The way she lay on her bound wrists and joined elbows pushed her hips up and the man stood at the end of the bed and lapped up the sight, literally licking his lips.

Amanda shuddered. But his plans for her were even worse.

Lying Amanda on her stomach, he pulled each ankle up and lashed it to its thigh. Then he flipped her on to her back. He laughed when she grunted with the discomfort and then pulled her knees wide and lashed each one to a lower corner. He now looped her neck with cord and stretched it up to the bed head. To his disappointment, it failed to reach.

'Don't suppose it matters,' he muttered to himself. He then went around to the bed end and looked Amanda's naked body up and down. Suddenly, his gaze met hers, and as he realized that she could see him watching her, a lascivious smile began to spread across his face.

'As I said, earlier,' he said, 'this job does have its compensations. He looked at her some more, letting his gaze dwell on every contour of her body, smiling as he did so. Then, he walked over, refastened the blindfold across her eyes and left the room.

______________________________________________________________________

Dr. Romelia Parsons, straining to stand on bound legs, said nothing. Dressed in just a leotard and underwear, she had thought she would freeze when Paul loaded her into the car and drove her to their new destination in the trunk. Now she found herself in a small cabin somewhere in the hills. The place wasn't big. Perhaps no more than two or three room. But the view was magnificent. The problem was that Rommy could see nothing but hill or road from the windows on all sides.

'At least, I won't have to keep you gagged,' Lesalle said, untying the cloth from across Rommy's mouth, and then the bra underneath. After a few seconds flexing her jaw muscles, Rommy spat out the panties which had acted as gag packing.

'How dare you,' Romelia shouted as soon as the panties were out.

'Perhaps removing your gag was a mistake,' Lesalle added, sarcastically.

'Untie me,' Rommy ordered.

'You know I can't,' Lesalle said gently.

'I need to use the bathroom,' Rommy replied. 'I can't tied go up like this.'

Lesalle seemed to be thinking for a minute.

'All right,' he said, 'turn around.'

Rommy hopped around. She was relieved when the ruined pantyhose came away from her elbows. Second later her wrists were free and the shoelace had been removed from her thumbs.

'You can do the rest.'

Rommy hopped over to a chair and perching on the edge. She undid the belts around her knees and ankles and then took the lace from her toes. Getting up she made for what she though must be the bathroom.

'Wait a minute.'

Rommy looked confused. 'Isn't that the bathroom?'

'Yes, but there's a condition.'

'What?'

'Strip.'

'What the hell ...'

'I said strip, Rommy, unless you want me to come with you to the bathroom.'

'But ...'

'No buts, Rommy. I know you. We're on the ground floor and there's a window. Even in that leotard, you'd be out of it and down the hill before I missed you. I'm not sure that even you would do that naked. And besides, I'm rather keen to see what you look like without all those clothes you normally wear.

'You really are a bastard.'

'So I'm told. But remember, you're a co-conspirator and not a victim in this. Now, what's it going to be: a striptease; or shall I tie and gag you again?'

Rommy wriggled out of her pale green leotard. By the expression on his face he was enjoying the show. Her white bra and panties were chic and brief.

'Surely that will do.'

'I said strip.'

'But I'm really not going running around the hills in my bra and panties in this weather. Am I?'

'I don't want to discuss it, Rommy. I want you naked.'

'Is it worth pleading?'

'No, strip.'

'Bastard.'

'So you said. Now get that bra and those panties off.'

It seemed no more use arguing. Rommy reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. She clutched one arm across her breasts as she pulled the bra off; then wriggled out of her panties.

She knew that he was looking at her bottom as she made her way to the bathroom.

______________________________________________________________________

For a few minutes no one seemed to come after her and she got a good start. Then a car appeared. She made a dash off the road on to the grass in the hope that the car could not follow, but the driver and her large male companion merely stopped the car and pursued on foot. They were fresh while Isla was winded from her run; and she had the high heels. In a second she was stumbling from the unsure footing.

She screamed loudly when Baxter's daughter caught up with her; but it did no good. Alyssa merely punched Isla hard in the stomach. That shut her up.

By the time she could straighten, Alyssa Baxter had already bound her wrists behind her palm to palm. The man held her firm, so that she couldn't fight or resist. Alyssa circled rope around her elbows and began to draw the joints together. Isla remembered the way that the two naked captives had looked. Their elbows had been tied together as well, and it forced their breasts out. Isla knew exactly what she would look like once her elbows had been made to meet. Alyssa knew too, and that encouraged her to draw the elbow rope as tight as possible.

'I came prepared,' Alyssa Baxter commented as she held up a nerf ball and a roll of tape. The ball went into Isla's mouth, all but choking her. The tape went over her lips and then around her head.

'Okay, Bimbo,' Alyssa Baxter said, looping the last piece of rope around Isla's neck as a leash. 'Let's go.' She led Isla over to the car and hitched the leash to the left-hand-side rear door handle.

Isla watched horrified while both of them climbed into the car, Alyssa in the driver's seat. The window wound down and Baxter's daughter leaned out. 'Try not to fall,' she quipped. 'We don't want to end up dragging you.'

______________________________________________________________________

Rommy discovered that, paradoxically, putting one's panties on was a far more revealing exercise than taking them off, and Lesalle was enjoying the show. Whereas she had been able to remove her panties by keeping her legs together and sliding the garment down her long thighs, she could only put them on while standing by lifting each leg in turn, an action conducive to neither decorum not modesty. What was more, the action needed both hands to achieve, so Rommy was unable to continue to shield her breasts. She had wanted to turn her back, but Lesalle had insisted that she remained facing him. When she tried to refuse, he had announced that her alternative was to stay naked.

Lesalle chuckled. Perhaps being a bastard was a bit of a compliment. He watched as Rommy hooked the sides of her white lycra panties over her hip bones and then reached out with one hand for her bra. As she did so, her other hand went across her chest, squashing her breasts slightly as she shielded them from his gaze.

Smiling, he held the white bra out to her; but kept hold of it. Rommy gave him a long stare, and he relented, enjoying the show once more as she positioned her breasts in the bra's cups and then pulled it on. She needed to push her breasts out to reach behind her back to fasten the garment, and Lesalle enjoyed that too. As soon as she had the bra fastened, she let her hands slump by her sides and waited for him to give her the leotard.

'How do you now that Baxter has Melinda and Isla?' she asked suddenly.

He looked at her thoughtfully for a minute. Romelia shivered under his gaze. Her bra and panties were brief. Her bra pushed her breasts upwards and inwards slightly and leaving a fair amount of her chest uncovered. Her panties were not only brief, but their lycra material was stretched taught across her loins: not only did this make them a little less than opaque; it sculpted the contours beneath.

'You're right,' he said suddenly. He stuffed the leotard in his jacket pocket and went over to one of the cabinets beneath the largest window. He fished around inside finally finding a ball of twine. 'Turn around and out your hands behind your back.'

'But, my leotard ...'

'Just do it, Rommy,' he ordered.

He watched her turn and then adjusted her wrists until they were palm to palm. He tied them tightly and cinched the bond.

'Ouch, you can't,' Rommy pleaded when more of the twine went around her elbows and began to pull them together.

But, he did. Then, he picked up her the black lace panties that he'd used to gag her. 'Open wide, Rommy,' he said smiling.

'You don't need to gag me again, she said dispirited. 'Who the fuck am I going to call to.'

'Language, language,' he chided. 'Just do it, Rommy.'

Rommy opened her mouth and shuddered at the taste of the panties, still soaked with her saliva. He tied them in place again with her black bra and added the scarf on top.

'Sit down over there.'

Rommy sat in a rather smart armchair. Her arms were already beginning to go numb. She watched as Lesalle fished into his jacket pocket, and pulled out first her leotard, then his cell phone. He stuffed the leotard back in and then punched in a number.

'Ah, Baxter, old man,' he said after a few minutes silence. 'May I speak to Isla please?'

Rommy, aching, watched as the conversation unfolded. After several minutes during which he looked increasingly angry, Lesalle shut off the 'phone.'

'The bastards got her all right,' he croaked in Rommy's direction. 'Say she's gone back to my place in a taxi. But, she doesn't know it exists, so he must be lying.'

He paused to unwind three four-foot lengths of twine from the ball. 'Sorry, old girl,' he said. 'I'm afraid you'll have to stay here on your own for a while.'

______________________________________________________________________

'Try anything, Dr. Parsons,' the voice said, 'and you'll suffer.' It was a hard voice, one that was used to dishing out pain.

'Ummphh,' Amy said. But in truth little noise came out. The sponge ball in her mouth seemed to soak up all the sound.

The hog-tie came off; as did the rope around her feet and knees. The she was hauled from the car trunk and deposited shakily on her feet. Although now in the open, no light penetrated the well-padded blindfold. 'Walk,' the voice ordered.

Amy made her way in darkness on shaking legs.

'You may as well know,' the woman said, as they walked. 'I've got your friend, Mia Lampton, but she's at another location.' As soon we've had our little chat, you'll be reunited. Then a helicopter will arrive and you'll both be taken away. My employer is setting up a small software business somewhere in Canada. The two of you are to be his first employees.' She stopped and laughed. 'Did I say employees?' She laughed again. "I should have said workers. After all, employees get paid. He was only going to take Mia at first. But when I told him about you, he got quite enthusiastic. I even think he's almost forgiven me for the mix up over the disk.'

She laughed again. Amelia was by now completely confused.

'And that's why we're here,' the voice continued. 'I need to know what you did with the disk. Obviously you doctored it ... so to speak, Doctor Parsons ... but I'm willing to bet you kept a copy when you erased it. Am I right? ... Stop here.'

Amy stopped. She heard a door unlocked and opened. They went in. Amy heard the door locked behind her.

'So the next hour or so is going to decide your immediate future. Of course, you're not going to tell me at first and I'm afraid my employer wants you unscathed. So things are going to get progressively worse for you until you change your mind. It's going to get dark in about an hour.'

She stopped speaking. Amy felt the rope cut free from her arms and chest. There was a zipping sound as the front of her leather bomber was lowered. Then her wrists were released and the jacket was pulled from her shoulders and arms. The woman immediately wrenched her hands around her front and tied them again. This time the rope felt different. It was thicker and heavier.

'So if you haven't told me what I want to know in thirty minutes, I'm going to leave you here to think about things. Of course, not only is it cold, but you'll be naked and you'll be very uncomfortably restrained.'

There was pressure on the wrist rope and Amy felt her arms move upwards. Soon she was stretched with her hands as far above her head as they would go. Then, slowly her feet began to leave the ground. First her heels went; then the soles of her feet; finally her toes. She grunted and groaned into her gag as her arms began to feel like fire.

She kicked out, more in an attempt to do something to relieve the strain than in any real effort to hurt her captor. The woman caught her right foot and began to unlace her boot. The boot fell to the floor with a plop and the woman pulled Amy's sock off. There was a blast of cool air on her toes. Amy tried to kick even harder with her left foot. But the woman swept it aside and soon that boot and sock were off too.

Amy felt that her shoulders were about to dislocate. But there was worse. Fingers went to the belt at her waist.

'Unnggg, mmmph.' Amy moaned into her gag as the tongue of her belt was unthreaded.

'Here we go ... one ... two ... three ... four ... five,' the woman said as she unpopped the buttons along the front of Amy's levi 501s.

Amy gulped as the denim was worked down her long thighs to her knees, exposing her brief pale pink panties.

'Just something to make you realize how vulnerable you are,' the woman continued, as she pulled the jeans over Amy's feet. She reinforced the point by bringing a hand palm- upwards between Amy's legs. 'Now,' she continued, 'we'll just cut that sweater off. Then we'll get started.'

Amy hung there while her expensive sweater was butchered. She wore a deep-pink coloured T-shirt beneath. The way she was tied pulled its hem up as far as her navel. She shivered from cold and fear. She could tell this idiotic woman nothing about any disk. But there was one hope. As soon as she was ungagged, she would tell the woman that she was Amy Lesalle. The woman would have to believe her, and then maybe she would be released. After all, the woman had kept her blindfolded. So she had seen nothing.

'So, here are the rules,' the woman started. 'In a moment I will ungag you. You will tell me about the disk. You will not scream and shout. No-one will hear anyway. But I will get very angry. If you do not tell me what I want to know I will cut away that T-shirt from you: then your bra; then those tiny little panties of yours. Then, if you still do not tell me, things will get serious. First, however, we must do something about those legs.'

Amy heard the woman fetch something. It wasn't hard to work out what it was. Soon Amy's ankles were tied to either end of a four-foot length of wood. It had square edges, which dug into the back of Amy's heels.

'Still,' the woman said in a more sympathetic tone. 'All you have to do is to tell me what happened to the contents of that disk. As soon as you do it will be over. I will tie you comfortably while we wait for the helicopter. Others are not so lucky. I think you know Paul Lesalle.'

Amy stiffened at her uncle's name.

'Well, my employer sent me to snatch his niece. I got his wife and mistress this morning ... and as soon as I get his niece ...' She paused. 'Well, put it this way, my employer has plans for her that she's not going to like ... permanent and enduring plans.'

Amy struggled to come to terms with this new information. Knowing this, there was no way she could reveal who she really was. The woman began to work the adhesive tape from her jaw and lips. It hurt. The woman only prised the sponge out with difficulty.

'Now, she said,' where is the disk.

'I don't know what you're talking about,' stammered Amy as soon as she could speak.

'Oh dear,' the woman said, 'not the attitude I'd hoped for.' And she ripped off Amy's T-shirt.

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Chapter Eleven

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