______________________________________________________________________

So far she had taken nearly an hour and only now had she made it where her friend, Dr. Mia Lampton and some unknown woman sat tied front to front. Now she would have to adjust her position so that her hands, which were hog-tied to her ankles, could reach the ropes binding the wrists of the unknown woman. Of course, Rommy’s fingers were growing numb as an effect of the ropes binding them, but Paul Lesalle had not been too harsh when he tied her and she still had some feeling. She could see, however, that the woman whose hands she was trying to untie was not so lucky. Not only had the woman stripped her completely naked, she had tied her so tightly that her fingers were going blue.

It took Rommy another quarter of an hour of struggling before she could reach upwards and begin to untie the naked woman’s hands. Ten minutes later she had got her wrists untied. Now the rest was up to her.

______________________________________________________________________

Luckily, there had been no police waiting for her at the Lesalle mansion. Or was it lucky? The intervention of the police would mean mega trouble. But the fact that there was no police hinted at menace. Lampton and the others could never have released themselves. Someone else must be responsible. And whoever that someone was now had possession of Lampton: a competitor, no doubt. There was only one thing for it. She would collect Rommy Parsons, go back to the Lesalle house, wait for Amy Lesalle, and then go in search of Mia Lampton. Kilmour stopped the car in front of the climbing hut in which she had stored her most recent captive and, climbing out, opened the door. At least, she was still there. She lay naked on the ground, where she had been left, folded in three, her mouth gagged and her eyes blindfold. Although it was cold in the hut, her body, tightly compressed in its bonds, was covered in a sheen of perspiration.

‘Change of plan, Dr. Parsons,’ she announced. ‘You’re going on a ride. No clothes, I’m afraid, and the restraints, gag and blindfold stay on.’

She hefted Amy up, using the knees-to-neck and the torso straps as handles, smiling at the way the gag swallowed up Amy’s shrieks of distress as she did so, and carried her out to the car. Second later, she had dumped her captive unceremoniously in the trunk and slammed down the lid.

______________________________________________________________________

He held the gun ready when she came into the room. She looked at him, then at the gun, and let out a shrill scream. He waited for her to finish before he spoke.

‘There’s no one near enough to hear you, Dr. Lampton,’ he said slowly.

A defeated look came over her face. ‘I’m not Dr. Lampton,’ she said deliberately.

He believed her. It was the way she said it. He knew she was telling the truth.

‘Who are you, then?’ he asked.

‘I’m Rebecca Carpenter,’ she said. ‘I’m a student. I’m staying here with Amy Lesalle. Please let me go.’

‘You know that I can’t do that, Miss. Carpenter,’ he said politely.

Becky swallowed. She had been stripped naked and bound and gagged once. She was certain now that that would happen again, that Alyssa Baxter would make her suffer for the way she and Agent Thornton had treated her. But, at least someone believed her.

‘What happens now?’ she said gloomily. ‘Do I have to take my clothes off again?’

Probably, he thought – when Alyssa gets here. Secretly, he wouldn’t mind getting another look at this one naked. But on the face of it, it didn’t seem right.

‘Just turn around and cross your wrists behind your back.’

She did so, reluctantly and Morgan tied her wrists securely but as gently as he could.

‘You can turn back.’

When Becky turned, she saw that the large man held a rag in his hand.

‘Please no. Don’t gag me,’ Becky said. ‘I’ll keep quiet.’

Morgan felt sorry enough for the girl that he had contemplated only taping her lips. But he knew that Alyssa would never approve. And she would only take it out on the woman.

‘I’m sorry, Miss. Carpenter,’ Morgan said. ‘You know I have to. Open wide.’

Becky opened her mouth and Morgan stuffed the gag right in. Then he taped her lips. He knew that he ought to wind the tape right around her head. But, he let her off that.

‘Now sit down.’

The purloined dress rode up to reveal the crotch of her borrowed panty hose as she sat. Morgan felt guilty at the sight, but tied her knees and ankles anyway. Then he settled back in his armchair to wait for Alyssa.

______________________________________________________________________

Since the episode at the swimming pool earlier that day, Debbie had been bound and gagged in a number of ways. This one was by far the most humiliating. She sat naked, facing and astride her fellow prisoner, who had at least the dignity of bra and panties. Her legs were stretched around that woman’s torso, so that Debbie’s pubic mound pressed against the other’s lower stomach. Rope lashed their torsos together so that Debbie’s bare breasts pushed into her chest.

Even though her wrists were now free, Debbie’s arms were still secured to her sides with considerable force. It took her several minutes to bring her hands upwards high enough to pull off the blindfold. She blinked as the light crashed into her eyes and etched patterns on her retinas. Then, straining her head around behind her, took in the sight of her rescuer. Then, she pulled at the cloth cleaving her mouth. It wouldn’t come free. It was too tight. Debbie tried to reach behind her had to undo it, but found she could not reach. Demoralised at the thought of having the packing in her mouth for even a minute longer she strained to untie herself.

It took ages. Debbie had to twist and turn to get at every knot. She had to pick at them with her fingers. More than once she broke a nail. But, she finally got the ropes from her torso and was able to reach up and work on the knot at the base of her skull. Two minutes later, it came free, and Debbie was able to spit out the large lump of cloth from her mouth and relieve the pressure on her aching jaw. Her legs were next. She reached forward to get at the knots that bound her ankles to the chair legs, only too aware of exactly which part of her anatomy was pushed against Mia Lampton’s midriff as she did so. It took her three or four minutes before she had freed her legs and could once again stand.

She turned to look at her fellow captives. It was only fair to work first on the woman who had just released her. So she stooped and began to untie her hands from the hog-tie. Then, while the feeling came back to the woman’s hands, she unknotted the scarf at the back of her head. Beneath that, Debbie surprised to find a black bra tied through the woman’s mouth. She released that and then watched while the woman spat out a pair of black panties.

‘Thanks,’ the woman said. ‘I’m Rommy Parsons. A bastard by the name of Paul Lesalle did that to me.’

‘Paul Lesalle?’ Debbie asked rhetorically, as she set about the ropes tying Mia to the chair. ‘But I’m staying with his niece.’

Rommy’s bonds had been put on considerably less tightly than Mia’s and it took Debbie several minutes to free Mia even with Rommy’s help.

‘I’m Debbie …’ she started, in an attempt to introduce herself to them.

‘How could you, Rommy?’ Mia blurted as soon as she had ejected the packing from her mouth.’

‘I did it for you,’ Rommy began to explain. ‘Lesalle told me that you were working for Maxwell Patton to steal the virus formula. He showed me evidence that Patton was involved. So I switched disk

s and sent a copy to him and left you a doctored version. He promised me that he would keep you out of it.

‘But I took the disk to give it to the F. B. I. I was supposed to meet someone by the name of Amanda Thornton. But before I could get it to her a woman grabbed me at gun point and tied me up. … Where’s the disk now.’

‘I e-mailed to Lesalle. But he hasn’t got it. He brought me here. Made me undress and tied me up. Where are your clothes?’

‘It’s a long story.’

‘Look,’ Debbie finally blurted. ‘We’ve got to find something to wear and get out of here,’

The search for clothes proved futile. Nor were there any sheets, blankets or even curtains to wrap themselves in.

‘We can’t leave dressed like this,’ Debbie said finally, ‘we’ll freeze.’

‘What if they come back?’

‘Then, we’ll have to overpower them. There’s three of us.’

‘That might work if it’s Lesalle or the woman who brought us here,’ Mia reasoned. ‘But it’s hardly going to work against any one prepared. And although it’s cold, we’ve only got to get to the road. A car’s bound to come alone after a bit.

‘But I’m naked,’ Debbie retorted. ‘It’s all right for you two. At least you’re decent.’

‘Hardly,’ Mia commented, indicating her skimpy bra and panties.

‘What about this?’ Rommy said, holding up the black bra that had recently been used to gag her. ‘What size are you?’

‘Thirty-six C.’ Debbie retorted, blushing slightly.

‘My size exactly,’ Rommy said, smiling. She tossed the garment to Debbie.

Debbie wrapped the bra around her torso back to front and fastened it under her breasts. Then, she twisted it round the right way and wound her arms into the shoulder straps, pulling the cups up over her breasts as she did so. She felt even more ridiculous in just a bra without panties. For a moment, she considered taking the bra off, but the support it gave might come in handy if she had to do any running.

‘Have the panties too, if you want,’ Rommy said suddenly. I know they’ve been used to g-g-g-gag me. But I-I-I g-guess they’re better than nothing.’ Now it was Rommy’s turn to blush.

Debbie picked up the black panties that had recently been used as gag packing and shook them out. Then she stepped into them and pulled them up her shapely legs. They were damp with saliva. But they were better than nothing. And although they were brief, they were actually slightly more substantial than those Rommy and Mia wore.

‘Ok, ladies,’ Mia said opening the door and stepping out into the cold air. ‘Let’s go,’

______________________________________________________________________

‘Maxwell, darling,’ she said as soon as her call was connected. ‘Do you miss me?

‘What do you think?’ the gravely voice spat down the line.

Sex with Maxwell Patton had been good, Melinda reflected, but the fringe rewards had been better.

‘Well, darling,’ Melinda continued. ‘I have a treat for you. I have Mia Lampton.’ She smiled to herself as microwaves carried the sound of Patton’s jaw dropping. ‘That’s right darling. I have Dr. Lampton. She’s nicely tied up and she’s not wearing very much, so you’d better move before she freezes. You’ll like her, darling. She’s a looker. Great tits. Not as good as mine, of course,’ she added, giggling. ‘But good, nevertheless. And she’s got great taste in underwear. Which is just as well, really, as she only wearing her bra and panties right now. Do I whet your appetite?’

‘And what do you want for her?’ Patton asked, impatiently.

‘Twenty-five million, darling. I’ll tell you where to transfer it to in due course.’

‘You know I haven’t got that kind of money, Melinda.’

‘Are you sure, darling? You do want the delightful Dr. Lampton don’t you? It would be a shame to let all my efforts go to waste.

‘I haven’t got that amount of money, Melinda. Not until after I get Lampton and the programme disk.’

‘But you will have. Borrow for now.’

‘Don’t be childish, Melinda. I need both Dr. Lampton and the disk. You know that one is useless without the other.’

‘Oh, come on. You know that Lampton could easily be forced to re-write the programme. Remember I know what you’ve got planned for her.’ For a minute, Melinda considered telling Patton that she also had the disk; but she decided against.

Patton cursed. Stupidly, he had under-rated Melinda Lesalle. He had assumed that she was just some accessory for a wealthy playboy. He had wined her and dined her and bedded her. She was immensely beautiful – and good in bed – and there had been the added benefit of cuckolding that asshole, Lesalle. But then it had gone bad. Before he realised it, she had snooped on a meeting and disappeared with enough information to damage seriously his intentions. At first he had thought that Lesalle was involved. But he was too stupid. Now it was apparent that she was working for herself.

‘Just get the money ready. You’ll be hearing from me again,’ she said, shutting off the cell phone.

Patton slammed his own phone down and then turned to his companion, a stunning beauty in her early thirties. ‘How long before the helicopter is ready,’ he asked grimly.

‘Tomorrow morning,’ she replied.

‘Excellent. We’ll leave at eight.’ He turned again to the phone and tapped in a number.

Jacqueline Kilmour snatched at her car phone as soon as it rang.’

‘So you’ve not only failed to get the disk, you’ve lost Lampton,’ Patton barked.

How the hell did he know? Then, it hit her, whoever had her had contacted Patton.

‘I’ve been asked for twenty five million,’ Patton shouted. If I have to pay a dime, I intend to sell you to the highest bidder to cushion the blow. Do you think I could get a couple of a million from some Middle Eastern sheikh for you?’

‘I doubt it, sir,’ Kilmour said. That was it. Patton was far too emotional. Okay, she had lost Lampton. But she had found her in the first place. She would have to take him out when this ended – just in case.

‘I have Romelia Parsons,’ Kilmour said.

That knocked Patton back slightly. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Lampton is in the hands of Melinda Lesalle. I’m faxing you her picture. Recover Lampton and get hold of Melinda Lesalle and I’ll let bygones be bygones. Get the disk as well and I’ll double your fee. Fail and you know what will happen.’

The phone went dead. And Kilmour waited for the fax to click into action. As it sprung into life she turned into the Lesalle mansion. The picture confirmed her expectations. She’d also had Melinda Lesalle - and she’d let her go too.

______________________________________________________________________

‘Thanks, Joe.’

Henry Baxter feasted once again on the vision in front of him. Isla Lewis was still tied motionless to the pillar in his cellar. Baxter took in the thrust of her breasts once again, a circumstance aided by the uncomfortable way her arms were tied. He liked the minimal cut of her bra – the way it lifted her breasts and squeezed them together slightly; but at the same time left so much of them uncovered. He knew that she was embarrassed by the way she was tied – and by her partially-clothed state. And that added greatly to his enjoyment of her situation.

On his way to answer the phone, Baxter took a quick peek into the other room. Special Agent Amanda Thornton lay where and how he and Alyssa had left her – naked, bound, gagged and blindfolded. If the way Isla was tied could be called uncomfortable, Amanda’s situation was no less than tortuous. She was held in a rigid hog-tie, her ankles tied to ropes cinched desperately tightly around her shapely chest, her wrists dragged tight into her buttocks by an eye-watering rope bisecting her crotch.

‘Sleep well,’ Baxter crowed as he took his leave and made his way top his study.

As soon as the noise of Baxter receded, Amanda reached once again for the one knot she could touch and continued to pick at it. That knot was the first of several that held her wrists together. Her efforts caused the already agonising crotch rope to chaff her even more. But she persisted.

______________________________________________________________________

The return of Alyssa Baxter and her henchman hardly filled the insurance investigator with glad tidings; even though it bode some relief from her current predicament.

‘I’ve had some good news.' Alyssa said to her affably, her eyes fixed on Isla's bra-covered breasts. ‘So, I’ve decided to let you have dinner with my father to celebrate. You have a choice, Miss Lewis. You may join him. Or you may be put to bed for the night. Before you decide, I ought to warn you that, whereas if you join him, you will be treated like a guest and allowed a warm shower and a change of clothes. If you refuse, you will be given a cold bath and tied up naked for the night. The choice is yours.’

It was hardly a choice. Isla nodded her consent to dinner and waited to be released. Instead, Joe freed her only from the pole, releasing her legs in the process. Her wrists and elbows stayed tied behind her back and the gag stayed on. Then, he produced a scarf which soon became a tight blindfold, and led her from the room.

______________________________________________________________________

‘What do you want? Melinda,’ Baxter said, less than affably.’

‘Oh, I’ve told you that,’ Melinda simpered. ‘Twenty five million dollars, and I’ll give you the program.’

‘And you know what my answer is,’ Baxter replied. ‘I haven’t got that much money and even if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you.’

For a second, Baxter felt the urge to reveal that he actually had Mia Lampton. Morgan had her nice and safely under wraps. And soon Alyssa would be bringing her back to the house. He wished she'd get a move on. Yes, he could tell Melinda he had Lampton. But he resisted. The last thing he needed now was to reveal his hand.

Melinda wondered if she should tell Baxter that she had Mia Lampton. No doubt Henry hoped that he could get to her and make the need for the disk unnecessary. But she decided against. If Henry knew she had Lampton, it would encourage him to look for both of them. So she let it pass.

‘You just have to hope that Patton doesn’t come up with the money first,’ she said teasingly.

Baxter put the telephone down and turned to see his daughter regarding him closely. She really was very pretty.

'Daddy,' she said. 'I think you should go to the guest room. I've had an idea. I'll tell you on the way.'

______________________________________________________________________

‘We’ll dine at seven, my dear,’ Baxter intoned, as if he were taking his granddaughter to dinner. That gives you forty-five minutes to shower and change. I'm glad you've decided to eat with me.’ He stopped speaking for a minute, using the pause to look once more up and down Isla’s partially-clad torso. She blushed under his gaze. ‘Ah, here comes my daughter with something for you to wear. Not much. After all it would be a disgrace to cover up that body of yours. But something to replace that torn dress and grubby bra.’ He paused again. ‘I say. I’m forgetting myself, Miss Lewis. I really must apologise for my daughter’s manners in destroying that dress of yours. I'll say good bye and leave you I her capable hands,’ he continued affably, smiling as if nothing had transposed. 'Joe, please stay and make sure Miss Lewis behaves.'

He left the room. Alyssa put a large pile of clothes on to the bed and then turned to the gagged insurance investigator.

'So, ready for your hot date, are you, bimbo?' she crowed.

Isla shuffled uncomfortably.

'Shouldn't take long to get you ready,' she continued. 'Better get the rest of what remains of your dress off first. Joe can you do the honours.

Joe didn't hesitate. In five seconds he had ripped off the rest of Isla's dress, leaving her there in her bra, pantyhose and panties.

'Pantyhose, too, Joe.'

Joe was hardly dextrous. And pantyhose don’t tear off easily. It took him a little longer before Isla's legs were bare, and she had just bra and panties on. She could have resisted, but she decided no to do so. She was embarrassed to be in just her underthings.

Alyssa crept forward and plucked at the front of her panties, pulling the elastic away from her abdomen, before letting it snap back again. 'Just as I expected,' she said, a dyed blond. I did try to tell my father. But he just wouldn't listen. Perhaps we should shave her snatch so he won't be disappointed,' she said cruelly.

The older woman shuddered. Alyssa seemed to be thinking about it for a minute or two. Then she changed her mind.

'No. Not worth it,' she concluded. 'He'll discover anyway when the blonde begins to grow out, and I can't be bothered to shave her every day.'

She noticed the concern on Isla's gagged face.

'Oh, sweetie. Did you think we were going to let you go. 'Fraid not. You and those other two bitches are going to be our guests for some time ahead.

She laughed. Then she got back to business. 'Let’s get the gag off, Joe.’

Joe reached forward and worked at the adhesive tape wound around Isla’s face. It took quite a few minutes before he could pull it from her hair and lips. When it was finally off, he worked the nerf ball from between her teeth and stood back while she coughed and retched. It was several minutes before she could speak.

‘Thank you,’ she groaned, her jaw stiff and her mouth dry.

‘Oh don’t thank me, Alyssa said merrily. It was for my benefit. Not yours. Now, what do you need? Panties, of course. Or would you prefer a thong?’

For a moment, Isla hadn’t realised that was a question.

‘I’m waiting, bitch: panties or thong? What’ll it be?’

Isla was startled.

‘Panties,’ she said after a second. ‘I’d never wear a thong.’ She took in a deep breath. ‘Never,’ she added crossly. ‘They’re uncomfortable and they don’t cover enough.’

Alyssa smiled. ‘I quite understand,' she said. I'd never wear one either.' She turned to the pile of clothes on the bed and selected something. 'Here you are,' she said, holding up a tiny white lace thong. 'One size fits all.' She tossed it on to the bed, where it fell separately from the other clothes.

‘But . . .’

‘But, what, bitch?’ I never said that I was going to give you what you wanted. After all, don’t forget. You may be daddy's dinner guest. But you’re also MY prisoner. Now, a bra. What size do you take, bitch?’

Isla was speechless. ‘None of your business,’ she spat.

Alyssa Baxter laughed. ‘Have it your own way,’ she said gently. ‘Joe, please strip Miss Lewis completely. She will not be requiring a bra, or anything else. Tonight, she'll eat nude.’

‘Wait,’ the insurance investigator blurted out as Joe took hold of the front of her bra, just between the cups. ‘Please, I’m a thirty-six C,’ she said reddening at the mention of that statistic.

Alyssa Baxter looked harshly at her. And for a minute, she thought the brat was going to deny her request. Then she smiled a cruel smile. ‘That’s fine, Joe,' she said coldly. She turned again to the pile of clothes and pulled out a bra. The good news was that it was a practical one, one she might actually wear, despite the lace. The bad news was that it was designed to combine up-lift with a plunge centre. As soon as she had it on, Isla knew that her breasts would be on display with a vengeance. 'One thirty-six C bra,' she said, tossing it after the thong. I guessed right. But I wanted to hear it from you.'

Isla, still clad in her underwear tried to ignore the humiliating charade, hoping it would go away.

Alyssa, however, continued. She held up the last of the things that she had brought into the room, a folded dress and a pair of shoes. ‘I’m afraid that we only have shoes here in one size,' she said. 'I do hope you'll get into them. I'd like to stop and watch you change, myself, but I have a more pressing appointment

Isla watched inconsolably as Alyssa tossed the shoes on to the bed. She was beginning to wonder if being tied to the pole hadn’t been a better option.

'Last but not least,' she said, letting the dress unfold. Isla gulped when saw it's dimensions. 'I'll leave you in Joe's excellent hands,' Alyssa concluded. 'Have fun.'

______________________________________________________________________

No wonder the three of them were cold. The six garments that comprised their entire joint wardrobe numbered three bras and three pairs of panties. If there combined material had been sown together, there was just about enough to make an apron. Mia Lampton wore a pair of brief, butter-coloured cotton panties. They were French-cut so that their inch-wide sides sculpted the line of her hip bones. Above her white bra comprised two seamless cups with a wide underarm strap and two slender shoulder straps. Rommy wore white cotton panties. Like Mia’s panties, they were cut so that the elastic sides hung on the top of each hip bone. Hers comprised two triangles of material affixed over each hip with two strands of elastic, about two inches long with half an inch of flesh between them. Where the front panel met the double elastic on each hip there was a small flower-like decoration. Her bra followed the same arrangement. A broad-U-shaped moulded plastic support formed the basis of each horizontally seamed cup. An inch of material joined the cups at the front and from the top of each cup two strands of material snaked upwards, uniting on the collar bone into a single slender strap. Once again, there was a flower decoration, this time where the top of the cups met the shoulder straps. Debbie’s borrowed panties were plain black cotton, also French-cut, with a single strand of lace trim around each leg opening. Her borrowed black bra had horizontally-seemed lace cups which were opaque below the seam but see-through thereafter. It was under-wired with half-inch lacy straps.

‘It’ll be warmer if we keep on the move,’ Mia suggested.

The road was hard and all three were barefoot. But Debbie could see the lights of a house not more than mile and a half or so away. Even unshod, they might make it in half an hour.

Then, she saw the car.

______________________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________________

Chapter fifteen

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