by Ashley Hind
Leah had wanted to be defiant in her humiliation but her nipples, little peaks of pale pink flesh, were rock hard and gave her away. April seized on the tell-tale sign of arousal with glee.
‘You dirty bitch! You’ve been dying to show me your tits, haven’t you? I bet you want me to suck them too, don’t you?’
Leah’s nipples were as hard as they had ever been, stretching as if to reach out to the taunting captor, who had bent down as if ready to suck upon them. Instead the girl merely pushed out her tongue and waggled it millimetres from the tip of each breast in turn. Leah held her breath, sure that contact was imminent. The touch would make her gasp, she knew that. It would betray her dirty yearning, as wretched as her position was. April smiled up as she teased, her eyes never leaving Leah’s as she opened her mouth ready to encircle the tingling flesh. Then suddenly her head drew back, her smile turned to a sneer and she spattered a gob of spit onto Leah’s chest.
‘Get into the shower, you fucking lesbo!’ she snarled, her harsh face and words jarring Leah with their vitriol.
Leah stepped into the bath and the girl pushed her towards the shower end, adjusting the temperature buttons and turning it on before half-pulling the curtain across. The water came out shockingly cold and Leah screeched and tried to escape the flow, only to be held in place by the girl. Fortunately the warmth began to come through and settled at a pleasant temperature. Leah was handed a sponge and told to use the shampoo and shower gel from the stand in the corner. She quickly lathered up under the constant belittling gaze of the girl, hurriedly removing the mess from her chest and trying not to look like she was in any way seeking to stimulate her still erect nipples.
April unceremoniously pulled down her leggings and knickers and sat down on the toilet seat, springing up immediately and pulling back the shower curtain to make sure that Leah was still visible before taking her seat again. With her legs wide so that her pussy was on view, she began to pee, ordering Leah in no uncertain terms to watch her. The girl was biting her lip and grinding against the loo seat as the urine sprayed, smiling in that lascivious way of hers as Leah continued to soap her chest clean. Before the stream had even abated, the nasty captor had her hand down between her spread thighs and was rubbing at herself there whilst calling Leah dirty names.
‘Let me watch you clean your filthy cunt out, you slut!’ she snarled.
The vulgarity shocked Leah into immediate action, her absolute need to obey at least masking the guilt at her desire to get her hands down to where the throb was quickly becoming too insistent to ignore. Humility still meant she was unable to do any more than sponge tentatively at her soft mound, but she knew she wasn’t far from losing her head in her mounting excitement. Her voyeur had no such reticence, plunging two fingers inside her wet sex and noisily frigging herself, lifting her hips and thrusting them forward so that she could be better seen, pulling out the slickened digits at intervals to suck off all those slick juices. Leah watched, almost desperate to be ordered to copy her captor, the sponge still pressed chastely into her crotch but nowhere near enough to give her body what it was crying out for.
‘Spread yourself for me,’ came the next gruff instruction, with April flush-cheeked and looking manic again. ‘Use your fingers to hold your filthy cunt open so I can see.’
Leah could feel the shame burning her cheeks but still she dropped the sponge immediately, thankful at the chance to touch herself, however rude she would look in doing it. She pressed the fleshy heal of her thumb to the throb and then used her first two fingers to ease herself apart. The stream of water ran down, tickling and teasing inside the petal lips of her labia now stretched and exposed. Her knees weakened but it was still nowhere near what she needed, and cruel April was bucking against fingers knuckle deep to show Leah exactly what she was missing.
‘Spray the shower up your cunt,’ April commanded. Leah didn’t care how desperate she looked in obeying so quickly. She barely cared to ensure she didn’t drench the whole room as she unhitched the shower head from its housing and pointed it between her legs. She spread herself as wide as she could and moved her thumb away, to leave her aching clit exposed. The hot fizz made her gasp. It was almost painful, so sensitive did she feel there. The spray went inside, tingling within her. She was well versed in this method of stimulation but she knew that it wouldn’t be enough on its own to bring her to a finish. Other things would be needed, and in that she was in her captor’s hands.
April seemed to be measuring her finish. Her eyes were half closed and her fingers jammed deep, no doubt working feverishly inside. Her chest was rising and falling with heavy, rapid breaths and Leah began to sense that a finish was coming to rob her of the chance for one of her own.
‘Pee for me,’ the girl hissed through barred teeth.
The humiliation might have made Leah dry up but her bladder was aching and any measure of relief was to be welcomed; anything to protract this moment was to be welcomed. Trembling, she dipped her knees and pushed her hips further into the shower flow and then let go her own stream, sighing hard at the glorious release. The rudeness only made the fizzle in her clit stronger, the need for something more ever greater. Surely the girl would have to reward this filthy obedience? But the dirty show only sped April towards the edge. Her gasps were turning to moans, and the fingers were now slapping furiously in and out of her, and then her eyes screwed shut and her hips bucked as she climaxed convulsively. Just before she sat heavily back down on the loo seat she reached out and wrenched the shower head from Leah’s hand and dropped it to spray uselessly against the side of the bath.
Leah slid her hand from her crotch, still desperate but feeling nakedly ashamed. The girl came down from her climax with heaving breaths, staring contemptuously at her captive, her mouth open and showing her pointy canines as she panted for air. She gave her fingers one last, cleansing suck and stood to pull up her clothes again.
‘Turn that water off, you disgusting wanking bitch,’ she said.
Leah was shaking from the denial of pleasure that had seemed so imminent. There was a chill to her wet skin and in the vindictive, almost deranged actions of this girl. She caught the towel thrown at her and pressed it to herself, glad to cover her modesty under April’s sudden look of distaste. Her tormentor leaned in, the snarl now returning.
‘You fucking slut,’ she said with quiet menace, ‘showing off to me like some filthy lesbo stripper. Get yourself dried and ready and don’t dare try to frig yourself off!’
Leah did as she was told, the girl staying briefly to make sure her instructions were being properly carried out and to signal which toiletry items should be used. When she left she marched out of the bathroom with a backwards threatening glare. The unpredictable aggression of the elder twin was unnerving to say the least, and Leah quickly brushed her teeth, dried her hair as best she could and wrapped the towel protectively around her body before tentatively going back into the bedroom.
April stood by the bed with her arms crossed, frowning as she watched May folding and piling a selection of T-shirts. The sight of the younger girl prompted butterflies in Leah’s belly but she realised with dismay that the whole episode in the bathroom had most likely been overheard, including the most shameful bits. Again Leah felt that her actions could be construed as a form of betrayal and she was filled with an overwhelming urge to explain to May that she wasn’t necessarily a willing partner in these games. She was conscious of hurting the younger twin, who had gone out of her way to make sure her confinement was as bearable as possible. Leah sensed the quiet defeat of being the second-born and having to live in the shadow of an older, brasher sister. As far as Leah was concerned though, the sun shone on May, and somehow she needed to let her know this.
April spotted Leah’s entry to the bedroom in the wardrobe’s mirrored door and eyed her reflection up and down scornfully before wandering around the room impatiently, huffing noisil
y and drumming her fingers on various pieces of furniture in turn. She couldn’t be quiet or still and seemingly had to dominate everything with her presence, making sure she was always the centre of attention. It was as April circulated the room that Leah caught sight of the cameras - two small units mounted below the ceiling, one in the corner, the other a few feet to the side of the entrance door. Both cameras pointed towards the bed, affording different viewing angles, while blinking red lights were indicative of their active status. These were not the first cameras she had seen at the farmhouse, although the units in the stables were an obvious security measure. These ones were clearly there to keep tabs on any prisoners. Leah took the opportunity to fill the gap vacated by April and moved closer to May. She was rewarded with a shy smile that let her know that the bathroom antics would not be held against her.
‘Auntie Gwen says you must wear these,’ said May. ‘Most of the tops are mine and I’ve picked out the longest I could find. You can borrow my jumpers as well if it turns cold.’
May’s concentration turned to a pile of knickers, mostly white and either full-backed or shorts-style. Her eyes were resolutely pinned to the little stack of panties and her cheeks had coloured with an endearing bashful blush, like a Victorian convent girl at the forbidden sight of underwear.
‘These are all mine,’ she said, ‘April only ever wears thongs and I thought you might prefer a little extra, erm, coverage. Gwen has got you some wellingtons to wear but I’ve lent you some pumps and socks, too.’
Leah found May’s coyness with regard to the knickers charming if a little backward in this day and age but her interest was being drawn to the fact that the small selection of clothes seemed to represent her new wardrobe in its entirety, and there was a glaring lack of vital items.
‘I don’t have any trousers - I was only wearing my dress,’ she said.
‘I know. Gwen doesn’t want you to wear any. She says you can’t be tied up all day if you are going to work and you will be less likely to run away if you’ve got no trousers on.’
The significance of the longer T-shirts and fuller underwear dawned on Leah. She knew that if it was a life or death situation then leggings would make little difference to an escape attempt, but she had to admit there was something very unappealing in the notion of running for help in a strange place wearing only knickers and a T-shirt. She thanked May for her continued attempts to look out for her as best she could but April’s impatience boiled over and she was curtly instructed to get a move on and get dressed.
May handed over a pair of knickers and Leah slid them on, still under the cover of her towel. They were a snug fit, particularly across her bottom, which was a little fuller than the younger girl’s. As the cool fabric clung to her puss, Leah felt the colour rise in her own cheeks, a sudden thrilling surge at knowing that these same panties had often stretched against May’s pussy too. It was a tenuous link but thrilling all the same, and she could see in the girl’s eyes that she felt it too. It was like touching by proxy, the soft cotton the go-between as it had shared their most intimate places and somehow transferred the sense that the girls themselves were in contact.
April was now staring out of the window and could be momentarily forgotten. Leah held the shirt being offered by the younger twin and took her chance. Slowly, she opened her towel to reveal herself, her heart quickening as May’s attention dropped instantly to the bare breasts now on show. She could feel that itch in her nipples again as they hardened under this lustful gaze. The young girl’s mouth had come open and her bottom lip looked full and wet. Her breath was catching. Leah was silently screaming for the reticent May to bend forward and give her aching tits the hard sucking they so needed. Leah waited for the girl’s focus to drop down over her belly and rest on the bulge tightly enclosed by the panties before pulling the top over her head to cover herself. It was a moment of tingling brilliance that left both of them flushed and flustered.
April snapped out of her daze and came away from the window, frowning suspiciously at the other girls’ red cheeks and guilty breathlessness. She didn’t know what had occurred in those silent seconds but it clearly irked her that she had not been involved. She turned to Leah and icily told her again to hurry the fuck up.
‘Auntie Gwen said that if you weren’t ready by half-past, she would whip you until you soiled yourself. I reckon that gives you two more minutes.’
With that she cast another dirty look at her sister and left the room. May grabbed Leah by the hand and hastened her out into the corridor.
‘We had better be quick,’ she warned. ‘Gwen can be very harsh if people don’t do what she says.’
It sounded like the voice of experience and, as she was led downstairs, Leah couldn’t help but think of her lovely companion, bent over and bare-bummed as the wicked Mistress prepared to dish out a heavy punishment on some trumped-up charge. At the back door of the kitchen she slipped on some slightly too-large green wellies as instructed and was then taken out into the brightness of the courtyard, where Gwendolen stood waiting, idly slapping her riding crop against the side of her boot. She threw Leah a contemptuous look and then studied her watch for several heart-stopping seconds before finally deciding that her deadline had not been breached.
The twins had melted away and Leah found herself feeling ridiculous with her bare legs and oversized wellingtons. The Mistress perused her with contempt and then issued an instruction to follow as she marched off across the courtyard. Leah waddled behind as they went between paddocks towards a green Land Rover Defender parked by the top gate. Leah slid onto the passenger seat as instructed, with Gwendolen beside her behind the wheel, wearing an expression stern enough to be unnerving after the relative comfort of May’s company. When the Mistress spoke there was menace to her voice.
‘I don’t know what happened last night,’ she said, ‘but I saw your dress ripped open like a whore’s. If I think you are trying to buy favours with anyone here, especially my husband, then I will cane your backside until it is red raw and then fuck it for you. Do you understand?’
Leah’s incredulity at her innocence was completely obliterated by the visual image of the punishment and the unthinkable pain it would cause. She nodded dumbly, wide-eyed and trembling while she pressed her clenching bottom down into the safety of the leather seat. The woman gunned the engine and set off at speed across the uneven track away from the farmhouse and around the back of the stable block. As they skirted some trees, a new set of buildings around another courtyard came into view, presumably still on their land, and the distant baying of dogs drifted in through the woman’s open window. As they drew up the noise increased and Leah could see foxhounds clamouring at the small wire-mesh gate to a low grey stone kennelling building.
Gwendolen silenced the engine and turned towards her prisoner, again speaking quietly and tersely.
‘Let me appraise you of your current situation. Your husband has already been made aware of the circumstances and how much it will cost him to buy you back. The price we have set is rather beyond your means, so we have allowed a system of payment instalments. We charge to keep you out of slavery per day. When his first instalment is due he must cover every day that you have been here and that will keep you safe until the next instalment is payable. If he fails to pay, or falls short of the amount due then I’m afraid you will be made to suffer in proportion to the shortfall. If he pays us what is owed and on time, he guarantees your safety for the next couple of days. Once he has paid up in full, he can have you back. If he fails to pay the whole amount, then sadly for you, we get to keep you regardless of what he has already given.’
A sadistic grin spread across her face at these words and Leah couldn’t help but feel that the woman was secretly hoping the ransom wouldn’t be raised.
‘Of course,’ the Mistress continued, ‘he will not be able to afford to buy too many days - although I’m very sure his employers are
rich enough to cover it. However, if he should let anyone know about your situation, then the deal will be forfeit, and you will immediately belong to us. How he gets the money is his business, as long as he tells no one. That is why we have given him enough time to raise the capital. This morning, Huw informed him that his first instalment is due tomorrow, and made arrangements to bring him here. We have devised a very clever way of making sure we get him here without being followed, and we will know instantly if he has told anyone, so for your sake I hope he is sensible. Get out of the car, please.’
Leah got out, her head spinning with this information. The implications were clear. Her captors intended to first bleed them dry and then have Thomas steal from his workplace to cover the balance of the ransom. Allowing him to buy time meant it was far more feasible to siphon off small amounts and therefore potentially evade discovery for longer. This would almost certainly persuade him to at least try to get the cash, whereas taking the whole amount in one go would be easily noticeable and may scupper his chances before he had barely started. This way, the captors stood to make at least some profit, rather than making their demands impossible from the outset.
Thomas’s position was always going to be untenable and he would inevitably be discovered, but possibly not before he had secured the release of his wife. By giving him deadlines the captors controlled the tempo, while crucially keeping up a constant reminder that the wellbeing of his wife lay in his hands, and that every day that was not paid for was a day in which she would suffer. Quite what her detention or punishment entailed was not clear but what was patently obvious was that this woman stood to gain whether the ransom was paid in part, in full, or not at all. There had been no threats of death, and therefore no complications of disposing of bodies. Instead there had been the threat of life in servitude, or as a slave to a sadistic mistress.
