A shiver surged up Lauren’s spine. But in stark contrast to the warm jolts of pleasure that had been coursing through her not much more than an hour ago, this shudder brought with it an icy chill and was born out of gut-wrenching fear. And if the nervous vibes given off by Jade and Jasmine were anything to go by, as they squirmed against their bonds in the tightly compacted space in which all three were trapped, it seemed that they too were experiencing the same levels of dread as their co-captive.
And the cause of the trio’s state of disquiet was the fact that they were now the victims of a strange kind of kidnapping. Strange, insofar as the two men who had stolen the car were blissfully unaware- as yet - that they had abducted anyone. As far as they were concerned, all they’d done was steal a car; although their motives for committing this crime were as yet unknown to the three boot-incarcerated girls.
And to think that this Saturday morning had started so well, with Lauren willingly being bound, gagged and mummified in the cellar at the twins’ house, whilst Jasmine and Jade tied each other up in a game they called their ‘Endurance Challenge’. It was then that the twins’ cousin, Mistress Amber de Sade, had turned up and decided to whisk them away to her dungeon. The trouble was that, having transported the trussed up trio into Ipswich, she’d left them in the boot of her car whilst she went on a lunch and shopping spree. And it was then, whilst they’d lain helplessly in their metal prison, that two men had taken the car; Amber seemingly having forgotten to lock the doors.
“What are we going to do?”
Lauren’s question to her fellow travellers came out as no more than a whimper through the layered gags that she’d been wearing for some hours now. There was no answer from either the frantically struggling Jasmine in front of her, or the equally active Jade at her back, although whether this was because they couldn’t comprehend the muffled nature of her query, or that they were too engrossed in their battle to extricate themselves from their bonds, Lauren couldn’t be certain. One thing she was sure of however – although she took no comfort from this piece of knowledge – was that the twins were unlikely to succeed in their frenetic endeavours.
For although they were experts at escaping from ropes and all manner of other bonds that they put themselves in, they had one more restraint than Lauren to contend with; namely that, under the cocoon of cling-film and the spandex sheath, as well as strict ropes they were also hampered by unbreakable steel handcuffs. And the handcuff keys were unavailable; presumably either left behind at the twins’ house, or more likely in Amber’s coat pocket. But Amber, of course, was no longer around. And if the twins couldn’t make good their escape, then Lauren knew that there was no way in the world that she would be capable of getting herself free.
So Lauren’s question was a good one – what were they supposed to do now? It was, however, only one of a number of similar quandaries that were running through her head at that moment. Such as, what would these men do when they found out that the vehicle they’d commandeered harboured a strange cargo of bound and gagged females? Should they make their presence known? Or simply keep quiet and hope to remain undetected? But if they chose the latter option, what would become of them? Although there again, if they were discovered, would their fate be any better?
If the thieves were nothing but joy-riders, then they might well simply dump the car after they got bored. But on the other hand, didn’t joy riders sometimes set fire to the vehicles they stole? Or push them into rivers or lakes? The thought of ending up being drowned in Alton Water Reservoir didn’t really appeal at all. Although the girls’ multiple gags precluded any meaningful whispered conversation taking place, all three seemed to have reached the conclusion that they would sit tight just for now and play it by ear as to when they made their presence known.
Mercifully, after having left Ipswich town centre, the journey through the Suffolk countryside lasted no more than a half an hour or so, although in Lauren’s state of anxiety, it seemed like much longer. The car coming to a brief halt - with the engine still running - was followed by the sound of heavy metal doors being opened. Then the car surged forward again for no more than about ten yards, before once more braking. On this occasion, however, the engine’s repetitive drone ceased and for a few seconds there was nothing but deafening silence from outside. The twins had, temporarily at least, put their fight for freedom on hold, as all three of the helpless occupants of the boot held their breath and waited to see whether they were about to be discovered. The silence was soon to be broken, however.
“Nice work guys. Just the sort of reliable motor we need for a getaway car. Any problems?”
“No it all went like clockwork. We didn’t even have to break in, as the owner obviously forgot to lock the door. They’re in for a shock when they get back and find it gone.”
The conversation continued along these lines for a few minutes, and it was clear that there were now three men outside; the two who’d taken the car from the multi-storey car park and another, seemingly older man, who appeared to be in command, as the other two referred to him as ‘Boss’. He, in turn addressed the two younger men as Carl and Al. The gist of the conversation seemed to be that the car had been stolen to act as the getaway car for a raid on a jeweller’s shop that was to take place on Monday morning, although the precise location of this planned heist wasn’t discussed.
From within the boot, Lauren and the twins listened intently, as this information filtered through the metal walls of their tomb. Aside from the sound of three young damsels in distress breathing into well applied gags, their silence had been admirably maintained until now. But having gone over their plans in some detail, one of the men asked a question, the answer to which would inadvertently turn out to be the girls’ undoing.
“So Boss, what do we do with the car after we’ve stashed the stuff?”
“Take it somewhere remote and torch it, that way they’ll be no forensics left to pin anything on us.”
This remark sent a shiver of dread coursing through Lauren’s veins. She’d been in a state bordering on panic ever since they’d been whisked away from the car park, but the fact that the eventual plan was to set fire to the car - with them possibly still in it - resulted in the terrified young woman involuntarily breaking their unofficial pact of silence. Although her outburst wasn’t particularly loud – her gag made sure of that – it became apparent almost immediately that she’d been heard.
“What the hell was that?”
“Sounded like it came from the boot of the car. Go and have a look Carl. Perhaps there’s a cat got itself locked in or something.”
The sound of footsteps approaching the girls’ hideaway was almost immediately followed by a creaking sound as the lid opened, accompanied by a dazzling light that caused Lauren to squint into the unfamiliar brightness.
“Fuckin’ hell! Take a look at this!”
“What is it?”
Although her eyes were still adjusting to the light, Lauren looked upwards as the silhouetted outline of one man quickly became three.
“Strangest cats I’ve ever seen, Boss.”
“What have you two idiots done?”
“Honest Boss, I swear, we didn’t know they were here.”
“Well how the hell did they get there then?”
“No idea, they must have been here all along.”
“That’s just bloody marvellous. Of all the cars to pick, you go and choose one that’s got three women tied up in the boot.”
“Sorry Boss. But the question is, what are we going to do with them?”
By now Lauren’s vision had compensated sufficiently for the increased light to enable her to take in her surroundings. Jade had taken it upon herself to try to sit up, and Lauren took this as her cue to do likewise, although in her restrained state this was not an easy manoeuvre, and she immediately found herself falling back to the floor of the boot. Raising her head a few inches, however, allowed her to view the stark, empty cavernous interior of a deserted and derelict warehouse; the heavy doors that the car had entered by now standing shut only a few feet away. Jasmine was trying to communicate with the three startled men, although her plea for help seemed to fall on deaf ears.
“What are we going to do with them?”
The man who had initially opened the boot – presumably Carl - repeated his earlier question. He was in his late twenties, Lauren guessed, thin and gaunt with a shock of black hair and a wild-eyed stare.
“Shut up, I’m thinking.”
The older man – the ‘Boss’ – stood glaring at the unexpected sight before him. He was probably in his early fifties, unshaven with greying brown hair. He remained silent for what seemed an age, during which time Jade reiterated her sister’s plea for assistance in getting out of her bonds. Ignoring this, he finally spoke.
“Well we can’t just let them go. They’ve all had a good look at us now and they’ll be able to identify us. And my guess is that they heard us talking just now and know what we’ve got planned.”
“Yeah but we can’t keep them here indefinitely. They’ve obviously been kidnapped by someone, so how do we know the cops aren’t on our trail right now? They’ll think we abducted them.”
This was Al, the other younger man, speaking now; well built, in his early twenties, with a chubby, red, blotchy face and a skinhead haircut.
The older man strode thoughtfully away to a distance of around ten yards, then turned and walked back again; a perplexed look on his face.
“What I don’t understand is this. If they’ve been kidnapped, then why leave them in a public car park? Surely, if they were being held against their will, they’d have been screaming blue murder and kicking out at the walls. But you didn’t even know they were there, right?”
The two younger men nodded in confirmation.
“So that suggests to me that they haven’t been abducted. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that they’re here because they want to be. In other words, this isn’t a kidnapping, but part of some kinky game.”
A hoarse chuckle could be heard coming from the older man’s throat as he finished speaking, which was the signal for his two sidekicks to join in the laughter.
“So, if they’re into being tied up, who are we to spoil their fun?”
More laughter ensued for a minute or two, until the Boss seemed to decide that the joke was wearing a little thin. He frowned.
“But seriously though, we can’t just set them free and let them go blabbing to the police. Get them out of the boot, see how they’re tied up and make sure they can’t get themselves loose. We’ll keep them here overnight and then decide exactly what to do with them in the morning.”
Lauren could only watch helplessly as Jade’s shoulders were grabbed by this Al character. He quickly pulled her out of the confined space and held her upright while his partner-in-crime examined the straps that coiled around her from ankle to chest. It must have been apparent to both of them almost at once, that these weren’t the only things encumbering her.
“She must be tied up within that bag thing. Take the straps off for a minute and let’s have a look.”
Whilst the Boss looked on, both of the younger men began undoing the tight belts, then eased the skin-tight spandex sheath down as far as Jade’s waist.
“Bloody hell, look at all this stuff she’s got wrapped around her. Whoever did this certainly didn’t want her to get away.”
“And look” the other suddenly exclaimed “she’s tied up with rope underneath... and handcuffs too by the looks of it.”
From her vantage point within the boot, Lauren too could see Jade’s rope bonds and metal shackles through the transparent wrap. She was somewhat dismayed however, to see that Jade’s fingers hadn’t made any headway in prising an opening through the film in her bid to get free. She knew the twins to normally be adept in the art of escapology, so if Jade was incapable of making any progress - and assuming Jasmine was in the same boat as her sister - then the twins really had met their match this time. Which, Lauren grimly surmised, meant that all three of them were in big trouble right now.
Having satisfied their curiosity as to the state of her bonds, the order was given to pull the sheath back up to Jade’s shoulders and administer the belts again “as tight as you can get them”. After which, Lauren and Jasmine watched as the straps around Jade’s face were removed, before the hood was loosened and eased up over her head. In what seemed like an avalanche, Jade’s jet-black hair cascaded around her shoulders. Her eyes were wide and filled with fear as Al examined the tape over her mouth, pressing it down firmly, even though it didn’t appear to be in any way coming loose.
“She’s really pretty. I wouldn’t mind spending a bit of time alone with her.”
He pulled Jade towards him as he uttered these words, which prompted her to attempt to squirm away. She had no chance of escaping from his clutches of course, but fortunately for her the Boss came to her rescue.
“You haven’t got time for that sort of thing now. We’re got far too many other arrangements to make if we’re to be ready for Monday. Now get that hood back over her head and we’ll secure all three of them so that there’s no way they can get out of here. If my hunch is correct, they’ll enjoy that.”
Reluctantly, it seemed, Jade’s would-be molester let his grip on her relax somewhat, before pulling the hood down over her head, lacing it up at the back, buckling it at the neck, then applying the two straps around her head again.
“Get the other two out and make sure they can’t get free either. Then tie them to the pillars with that twine.”
The Boss pointed to a table a few feet away, on which could be seen, amongst many other things such as hammers, crowbars and cutting implementing, several reels of what looked like nylon twine. Exactly what the original intended purpose of this cord had been, Lauren hadn’t a clue, but it appeared that it was now going to be used to supplement their already not inconsiderable bonds. Once manhandled out of the boot, Lauren could now view the vast expanse of what had once clearly been an enormous storage area. At regular intervals across the floor, several sturdy concrete support columns rose up to the ceiling; the ‘pillars’ that the Boss had been referring to.
It hadn’t been many hours since she’d been taped securely to the plumbing in the twins’ cellar, and it looked as if she was once more going to be moored to an immovable object. Only now, of course, rather than this being an exciting prospect, Lauren felt only dejection at the thought of what was to come. For it seemed that whatever fate their abductors had planned for them, it was very unlikely to be anything particularly pleasant. They’d inadvertently overheard plans for a robbery and could identify the thieves, so what options did the men have? Lauren was banking on the fact that these men, despite their criminal tendencies, were not in the habit of killing people, although there was no way of knowing for certain. But she had to cling on to this notion, as the alternatives didn’t bear thinking about.
She shivered inwardly as Carl undid the top two straps around her chest and stomach, before proceeding to unsheathe her to the waist.
“This one’s wrapped up in duct tape, Boss. Don’t think she’ll be getting out of that any time soon.”
He turned back to Lauren and once more enclosed her upper body within the spandex; pressing his body against hers, his hands lingering much longer than was strictly necessary over her breasts, whilst eyeing her up with a sly grin on his face. His breath smelt of stale tobacco, and Lauren felt completely repulsed by his presence so close to her.
“Come on, hurry up and get them fixed to the posts. We’ve got plans to go through if we want this job to run smoothly.”
With great reluctance, Carl complied, whispering in her ear “Maybe we can have some fun later, eh?” as he pulled the straps extra tightly around her upper body. This remark sent another shiver of fear coursing through her veins.
Lauren had been distracted for some minutes during the inspection of her bonds, so when she finally looked out across the room, she could see that Jade had been taken to one of the pillars and was currently being bound from shoulders to ankle by Al, with what looked like never ending swathes of the coarse twine. Jasmine – whose bonds had presumably been subjected to a similar level of scrutiny as her own – had been left propped upright against another of the identical columns; as yet unsecured but helplessly awaiting her turn. Through the small peepholes in Jasmine’s hood, Lauren could see her friend’s frightened eyes darting around the room; desperately seeking a means of escape but knowing deep down that none existed. From the furthest column, a stifled groan of pain came from Jade, as the thin twine was stretched around her to what looked like near breaking point. But it was obvious that it was resilient and hard-wearing, and the chances of it snapping were close to zero.
Lauren was made to hop across the floor to the column closest to the car and was placed with her back resting against the concrete. Then the winding of the twine commenced, and she felt herself being compressed ever tighter against the pillar, until she too was nestling in as close proximity to the cold surface as was humanly possible. Although already submerged under layers of spandex, tape and cling-film, the tight embrace of the twine could still be felt as it harshly dug into her flesh. Finally, after what seemed like the thousandth circuit of this unforgiving ligature, the final knot was secured, leaving her rigidly fixed to the extent that she couldn’t move more than a fraction of an inch in any direction. Tuning her head to the left, she was just in time to see Jasmine’s matching bondage being finalised, and she realised that their fate was sealed.
“Well ladies, we’re going to have to leave you here for the night. I know you kinky little mares are into all this bondage malarkey, but I think it’s only fair to let you know that if you do consider screaming for all your worth once we’re gone, that you’ll only be wasting your breath. This warehouse is situated in what used to be an industrial site, but now most of the buildings have been pulled down and those that are still standing are surrounded by high fences topped with barbed wire. Nobody can get within several hundred yards of here without wire cutters – unless, like us, you have a key to the gates, of course.”
The Boss smiled mockingly and held up a bunch of keys, before turning to his companions.
“Right, we’ll leave the getaway car here and I’ll give you two a lift back to town. Make sure you secure the door properly. I know that the chances of them escaping are minimal, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
Reaching the doors, his final remarks before departure were once more addressed to his three motionless prisoners.
“We’ll be seeing you again bright and early in the morning. I hope that Carl and Al’s binding skills are up to your undoubtedly high standards and meet your approval. Enjoy your stay here tonight.”
The doors slid shut, accompanied by the harsh noise of grating metal across stone floor. Then the sound of bolts slamming into place was followed by the clicking shut of three padlocks. Half a minute later, a car engine spluttered into life, revved up for a few seconds, reached a crescendo, then gradually died away into the distance.
The passing of time is a strange phenomenon. When you’re happy, relaxed, excited, or just simply enjoying life, it passes in the blink of an eye, however much you try to hang onto the moment. On the other hand, in a situation that brings only pain, fear, boredom or anxiety, the seconds drag on like minutes and the minutes turn into hours.
And it was at a speed verging on the static that Lauren and her two co-captives found time crawling now, as they languished in the fading light of a late autumn afternoon. What little illumination there was emanated from a few small, mesh covered and dirt encrusted windows high up on one wall. And as day gave way to evening, so the darkness increased in intensity, until after what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality probably around two hours, the three captives were enveloped in a sea of blackness that perfectly matched their moods.
All three spent a great deal of this time trying to get free of their bonds; Lauren knowing that she hadn’t a cat in hells chance of success, but still holding out some hope that the twins’ Houdini-like skills would miraculously come to their rescue. But it seemed, as she gazed on in increasing despair at their futile efforts, that this was simply a forlorn hope. They were trapped here and no amount of struggling would ever get them out of this potentially fatal mess.
Understandably, they paid no heed to the Boss’s advice concerning the futility of trying to draw attention to their plight. For as soon as the car engine had faded, all three had let rip with a caterwaul of sound, ninety percent of which had been soaked up in the layered gags that each wore. But he’d been correct of course, as no help had been forthcoming. Every now and again, each of the trussed up trio would occasionally reprise this desperate bid at seeking assistance; sometimes solo, whilst at other times as a duet or an improvised three-piece choir. But the only reply that reached their ears was the sound of the wind as it whistled through the old dilapidated building and occasionally shook the heavy metal door, or caused a window to rattle or part of the building’s structure to creak.
At what must have been well after midnight, however, Lauren made a strange discovery. During one of the many brief but increasingly half-hearted attempts to get free, she inadvertently found herself pulling on her crotch rope. Since the theft of the car this afternoon, all her time had been taken up fretting over the worsening situation that they’d found themselves in, and she’d quite forgotten about this bond that had been placed upon her as an aid to pleasure. It was a strange situation, and one that caught her quite unawares, but there was no doubting that this unplanned rubbing of the tight rope between her legs had stirred something within her.
Even taking into account the desperate circumstances in which she found herself, this brief accidental jerk on the rope had planted the seeds of sexual arousal within her. Why this should be, with her fate in the balance, Lauren had no idea, and part of her brain was repulsed by the realisation that she could be experiencing such emotions at a time like this. But another part of her brain seemed to overrule this more rational consideration, and a voice in her head seemed to be whispering “if you can’t get out, you may as well get off”.
Whether it was simply a release mechanism; a safety valve to ensure that the pent up fear and horror brought about by a grave situation was given an outlet to alleviate the tension and let off steam, Lauren couldn’t be certain. What she now deduced, however, was that the failure to free herself from her bonds didn’t mean that she couldn’t find release in another way. Pulling the rope as far up into herself as she could, she settled into a rhythmic series of movements that began to send a warm tingling sensation coursing through her.
Within a minute or two, she found herself once more vocalising into her gag, although now her cries were of elation rather than desperation. And although they were no more than vague shapes in the darkened warehouse, she sensed that the twins – Jasmine around ten yards away to her left, with Jade a further ten on the other side of her sister – had picked up on the mood of the moment and were also attempting to ensure that a bad situation was allowed to become just that little bit more bearable. Although the future of all three girls was in the balance, at least they might as well all go out on a high.
As before, all three bound and helpless females seemed to have an uncanny knack of synchronising their climaxes almost to the second. After the explosion that found her whole body straining against her bonds, Lauren, despite the uncertainty hanging over her and her friends, found herself relaxing for the first time since the car-jacking had taken place; her attempts to recapture the reason for being bound in the first place having been a success.
How long this sense of wellbeing would have lasted if they’d been allowed to rest undisturbed, Lauren had no idea, but it can’t have been much more than a couple of hours after the helpless females had shared their third group orgasm since yesterday morning, that the sound of a car engine - faintly at first, then gradually getting louder – broke the silence of the warehouse. It was still dark outside, although when she looked up at the windows, Lauren thought she could possibly detect the first light of dawn beginning to tint the blackness. Was this the kidnappers returning? Or was rescue at hand?
The clatter of the heavy doors being drawn back revealed it to be the former, much to Lauren’s dismay. The shapes of the three men appeared in the open doorway, beyond which, she could make out the shapes of two vehicles in the dim early morning light.
“Well ladies, it’s time to embark on a little trip to the coast. Everyone loves going to the seaside, don’t they?”
The two younger men sniggered at the Boss’s comment.
“Sorry it had to end like this” he continued “but we just can’t have you opening your mouths to the cops. Try not to worry too much, it will all be over and done with nice and quickly.”
He turned to his cohorts.
“Cut the twine and get them into the boot of my car.”
It was at this juncture that Lauren noticed, as Carl came towards her, that he was carrying a large pair of shears in his hand. His colleague, who was making a beeline towards Jasmine, also carried a similar cutting implement. It took neither of them long to snip the still tightly restraining twine in several places, then unravel their captives from the remaining coils. As soon as he’d done so, Carl picked Lauren up and carried her in his arms out of the warehouse towards where the cars stood. There was a faint orange glow on the horizon, and the wind had now dropped, which suggested that there was an unseasonably warm autumn day in the offing.
But for Lauren, the fineness of the weather was not something that she could take any great pleasure from at present, as it seemed that this might well be the last sunrise she would ever witness. She found herself tearfully pleading through her gag to be spared whatever gruesome fate the men had in store for her; promising that she and her two friends wouldn’t tell a soul about the planned jewellery raid, or divulge anything else that might incriminate their captors. But her muffled words went unheeded, as within a few seconds she found herself being dumped unceremoniously into the boot of one of the waiting cars.
Seconds later, Jasmine was thrown in next to her, followed a minute or so afterwards by the protesting Jade, who had put up quite a fight during the short journey from pillar to car, and had managed to kick out at Al as he carried her; catching him, it seemed, in a rather delicate region of his anatomy. When he finally wedged her into the confined space between Jasmine and Lauren, his face had become even redder than normal, and he had a severely pained expression on his face.
He spat the word out and raised his fist as if about to hit her, but the sound of the older man’s voice directly behind him seemed to dissuade him from meting out any physical violence.
“Now now Al, calm down. You’ll have your revenge on her soon enough. You and Carl take the other car and get going. Start getting prepared when you get there. I’ll follow on in a few minutes, once I’ve shut this place up.”
Al looked down at the three girls crammed into the tight space and hissed the word “bitches” through gritted teeth, then turned and headed towards the other vehicle, the engine of which was already running. Seconds after getting into the passenger seat, with a squeal of the tyres – which seemed to be Carl’s signature style of driving – the car roared away. While the noise and the exhaust fumes gradually dissipated into the still morning air, the older man stood and watched as it disappeared into the distance. Then he turned back to his captive audience.
“I‘m sorry that it all has to end so badly for you girls, I really am, but what alternative do we have? I guess that you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The problem we have is that you know our plans and can identify us, so really you leave us with little choice. Our hands are tied, metaphorically speaking... sorry, I guess that’s in bad taste, given your circumstances.”
Despite his apology, he seemed pleased with his pun, and a slight smile creased the corners of his mouth. Lauren, Jasmine and Jade, of course, were in no mood for jokes or wordplay, and all three began screaming for mercy - or failing that, praying that someone would hear their cries and come to see what the fuss was all about. But alas, there was no one in the vicinity, and the boot being slammed shut over them ensured that their gagged outbursts were further stifled by their encapsulation within the metal tomb. And after a minute or so it also became a mobile tomb, as the car bursting into life was accompanied by the sensation of motion.
The early morning roads of England’s most easterly county must have been relatively free of traffic, as the car seemed to have hardly any need to stop or slow down during the journey. And although all three of the boot’s inmates at some point or other during the journey attempted to kick out at the confining walls and ceiling of their prison, it seemed a forlorn hope that anyone would hear them. For around three quarters of an hour - at a guess - the car sped onwards, before slowing down for the final few miles as it seemed to wend its way through winding country lanes. Even before the boot was raised, Lauren could tell – from the salt-tinged air and the cry of the gulls – that they were close to the coast.
All three girls lay in silence now, as if knowing that there was no point in causing a commotion. Lauren found herself both wishing that the boot would open so that they had at least a chance of being spotted, and dreading it at the same time, due to the unknown nature of the chain of events that were to follow. She could sense Jade trembling beside her, and heard Jasmine whimper into her gag just a few inches away. She knew exactly how they both felt.
The boot opened to reveal a clear early morning sky, with the moon and a few brighter stars still visible and only a few scattered clouds in the distance. Overhead, gulls circled and screeched; the only sound other than the rapid breathing of three very frightened young women. The older man stood over them, and within seconds Al and Carl reappeared.
“Good, we’ll each carry one of them.”
Carl needed no other prompt, and immediately reached into the boot, grasped Jade around the waist and hoisted her out, before slinging her torso over his shoulders and holding her legs to his chest. Without further hesitation, he began to walk away. No sooner had he disappeared than Al performed an almost identical procedure with Jasmine. This just left Lauren shuffling nervously towards the back of the now less cramped luggage space.
“Now be a good girl and I’ll try to make sure this is as painless as possible. Try to fight me though, and things could get really nasty.”
The Boss’s ultimatum was delivered quietly and calmly, but the look in his eyes showed that he wasn’t bluffing; if Lauren did anything to provoke him, a bad situation would be made far worse... if that were possible. As he lifted her out of the boot, Lauren gazed around through the tiny holes in her hood, in the hope that someone might be around to witness what was happening and raise the alarm. Away to the left she could see the ruins of a large church. Instantly, she recognised the location. For within the remaining crumbling walls of this ancient building stood another, smaller church, and Lauren knew that she’d been here before. This was Covehithe, once a thriving medieval town, but now, due to coastal erosion, no more than a small hamlet situated on a remote stretch of the Suffolk coast a few miles north of Southwold. As they passed the church gate, heading in the direction that Lauren knew led to the beach, a blue sign confirmed the location.
The Church of
Services each Sunday at 9:30 am
Although this was Sunday, it was obvious from the dim light that 9:30 was still more than two hours in the future, and there were no signs of life in or around the few scattered cottages in the vicinity.
The distance to the sea was, as Lauren knew, only a few hundred yards, and the journey took no more than a couple of minutes. Arriving on the beach, Lauren found herself being deposited on the sand, with the waves breaking on the shore around thirty yards or so away. Although the sea didn’t look particularly rough at present, now that they were on the strand, a stiff breeze was blowing around the grassy dunes and eroded cliffs. To the south, the white structure of Southwold lighthouse was just visible in the first rays of the new rising sun; its beacon flaring out into the dawn twilight every few seconds. But what caught Lauren’s attention and chilled her to the bone, was the scene immediately in front of her. For there, newly excavated in the yellow sand, were three holes; each one around five feet deep. Carl and Al, shovels in hands, were putting the finishing touches to the pit nearest the waterline.
“Well ladies, I’m sure you can guess what these holes are for. The boys and I had a long chat after we left last night, and we decided that this was the easiest way to dispose of you. We’re not violent men, you see, and none of us could face the prospect of actually physically killing you. So we came up with a plan. We’re going to let the sea take care of that for us. Call us cowards if you like, but it was the only way we could think of that we didn’t have to pull a trigger or tighten a noose around your necks. We could have just left you to starve in the warehouse, of course, but that would be a slow lingering process that could take days. At least this will all be over in an hour.”
One of the twins began to scream, but her stifled cries seemed to be lost instantly in the breeze. Although Lauren was sure that she was experiencing the same emotions as her friends, for some reason the shock that seized her seemed to render her dumb, and she meekly whimpered into her gag at the prospect of a certain watery grave. This couldn’t possibly be happening, could it? It must all be part of some horrific dream.
But unfortunately, the salt spray that stung Lauren’s eyes and the clamour of the gulls as they squabbled and screeched in the encroaching surf, forced her to the conclusion that this was all for real.
The digging had stopped by now, and Lauren could only watch helplessly as Carl strode up the beach and grabbed Jasmine, before returning with this struggling, screaming bundle of bound female back to the site of his recent labours. She looked on in horror, as her friend was placed in a standing position in the hole furthest from the water. Her revulsion at what was happening increased by the second, as Al began shovelling the recently excavated sand back around the wriggling, spandex-sheathed woman, whilst his cohort held her upright. Slowly but surely, the sand filled the space around her, gradually thwarting her struggles as it packed around her thighs, her waist and her chest.
After only a few minutes, the sand passed her shoulders. It seemed that Carl and Al had correctly judged their captive’s height almost to the inch, for once the shovelling had ceased, the two men could be seen stamping down the recently replaced sand around their victim’s neck. All that now remained visible above ground was Jasmine’s hooded head. It was clear from the way she was straining, that she was desperately trying to thrust her body upwards and extricate herself from the now filled hole. But it was equally apparent that, in her state of extreme bondage, she was incapable of gaining enough momentum to be able to exhume herself.
This time, Al was the one to make his way up the beach and pick the next candidate for burial. He chose Jade. She too put up as much resistance as possible, but like her sister, she had no means of halting the two men’s progress as they laid her to rest in the nearest hollow to Jasmine and began sealing her into what was, to all intents and purposes, her grave.
As Lauren watched the ever worsening situation, she found herself struggling with more gusto than she had ever done before. How had something that had started out as such a pleasant experience, turned into this life or death scenario? She silently cursed Amber for leaving them in the car park and forgetting to lock the car. She cursed the twins for introducing her to bondage in the first place, and getting her into this situation. But mostly she cursed herself for finding the lure of the ropes so enticing that she kept coming back for more.
For seemingly the thousandth time, she tried to wrench her wrists out of the tight ropes that had been her constant companion now for almost twenty four hours; simultaneously tugging on her leg bonds in an effort to find some means of getting away from these men who intended to leave her to the mercy of the sea. But, as she already knew, the combination of tight ropes, cocooning cling-film, duct tape, spandex sack and strict leather straps showed no sign of relinquishing their grip.
“You’re a feisty one, I’ll give you that much. But I’m afraid you’re wasting your time.”
Lauren had forgotten about the Boss, who, when she turned around to look, was sitting on the sand a yard or two away, watching his colleagues as they finally completed burying Jade up to her neck in compacted sand.
“Looks like it’ll be your turn soon.”
How could he be so calm when he was effectively sentencing them to death? Especially taking into account his earlier claim that none of them actually had the stomach for murder. But this conundrum was irrelevant now, as Lauren watched Al walking slowly up the beach towards her, with Carl visible behind him, resting on his shovel as he awaited her arrival. Although she knew evasive action had no chance of success, Lauren was determined that they weren’t going to bury her without a fight. As he bent down to pick her up, she attempted to kick out at him. But unfortunately, having been caught unawares earlier, he was wary of another such attack, and simply grabbed her bagged feet as she swung them in his direction. Instead of picking her up, he simply began dragging her down towards the shoreline; Lauren’s cries and pleas to be spared failing to make any impact on his conscience.
The chasm into which Lauren was pushed, feet first, was the closest one to shoreline, which meant that she came into close proximity to the hooded heads of both Jasmine and Jade, sticking out of the sand. She caught the eye of both of them as she was dragged passed, but neither could offer any sign of encouragement that they had dreamt up some great master-plan of how they might survive this ordeal. While Al held her shoulders steady – ensuring that she was facing out to sea - Carl began piling the soft damp sand into the crevice around her.
She shivered as her knees became packed solidly into the surrounding beach, and could only beg for her life to be spared as the closely compressed grains adhered to the spandex sack. The sand piled ever higher by the second, as Carl went about his task with relish, until Lauren, like her two doomed friends, was encased to the neck. She watched as both Carl and Al’s boots pounded the fine crystals only inches from her face. Once they were satisfied that she was solidly packed in, the voice of the Boss, from somewhere behind and therefore no longer in Lauren’s range of vision, was heard again.
“Well ladies, this is it I’m afraid. We’ll be off in a minute. Any last requests?
Resigned to her fate, Lauren made no sound, as she recognised that this was just another cruel taunt. Jasmine and Jade remained silent too, presumably realising that nothing they could attempt to say would have any positive bearing on their situation.
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do. So that your last few minutes are that little bit more bearable, we’ll take the hoods off and allow you to take in the nice fresh, bracing sea air. How does that sound?”
Almost immediately, Lauren saw Al kneel down in front of her and begin to remove the jaw restricting straps. Once loosened, the buckle around her neck was undone and the laces that had prevented the facial covering from slipping, gradually slackened until the hood could be pulled with ease over her ears and away from her head. The cool breeze hit Lauren’s face immediately, and caused her long dark hair to stream out behind her. Craning her neck as far around to the right as her sandy tomb allowed, Lauren could just see that both Jasmine and Jade’s hoods had also been removed, with their long dark tresses blowing uncontrolled in the wind that was blowing in off the North Sea. The tiny particles of sand hitting her face, and the coolness of the air around her head, made Lauren realise just how claustrophobic the tightly fitting leather had actually been, and if circumstances hadn’t been so life threatening, she would have found herself feeling grateful to her captors for the removal of this head restraint.
“Right, we’re off now. I hope that you don’t suffer too much.”
These were the final words uttered by the Boss, as he sauntered off in the direction of the church. Carl and Al followed him and within seconds all three had disappeared from view.
The sound of three helplessly buried young women wailing into their gags filled the air. But the breeze was getting stronger and their muffled calls mingled with the screaming of the gulls that circled and wheeled overhead in the early morning sunlight. From her low vantage point, Lauren watched the waves lapping at the shore around twenty yards or so from where her head protruded from the landscape. The fact that the flotsam and jetsam strewn from earlier high tides was on the landward side of their burial site seemed to prove that the tide was out at the moment, and this was confirmed after a few minutes as the water gradually crept, wave by incessant wave, towards where the three distressed damsels lay entombed.
Lauren tried desperately to propel her body up and out of the tight cavity, but the men had done an efficient job of packing the sand around her, and she found that she couldn’t seem to obtain any upward momentum in her thrusting motions. The damp sand held her rigidly in an effective cast, from which there was no way of moving even a fraction of an inch in any direction; making her immersion in the ground the final supplementing strata of her layered and inescapable bondage. She turned her head as best she could to where the twins were similarly entrenched behind her, but it appeared they too could make no progress in their endeavours to extricate themselves.
Another bout of screaming had no more effect than the first, and Lauren found her eyes by now brimming with tears. These were partially attributable to the wind-blown sand that was whipping into her face, as well as the salty air. But mostly they were as a result of an acute fear of imminent death by drowning. She watched helplessly as a bevy of lesser black backed and herring gulls came to rest in the surf; squabbling and squawking over the small crustaceans and other sea creatures being flung to shore amongst the seaweed and other detritus brought in by the tide.
On the periphery of this melee, black headed gulls – smaller than their more querulous cousins, and now in their winter plumage - strutted across the strand; occasionally stopping and cocking their heads at the three unusual objects jutting out from the surrounding landscape. Lauren scoured the shoreline in each direction, hoping against hope that a dog walker or early morning jogger would chance upon them in their hour of need. But the beach and cliffs were devoid of human presence...
...or were they?
As the tide made its way irreversibly towards them, Lauren thought that she maybe heard the sound of voices. It was only for a second, before it seemed to fade away, and she began to fear that her mind was playing tricks on her; allowing her to make out, amongst the crash of the waves and the whistling wind, a sound that she most desperately needed and wanted to hear.
But there it was again. Closer this time it seemed. And if this was an aural illusion, it must be a shared one, because, from their renewed plaintive cries for help, it seemed that both Jasmine and Jade had heard something too.
Stretching her neck backwards as far as she could, Lauren gazed in the direction of the path that led back to the church, which was also the direction from which the sound seemed to be emanating. At first, the sand that stung her eyes, coupled with her recent tears, made focusing on the objects that appeared over the brow of the dunes difficult. Then, as the figures came closer, she thought that perhaps she was hallucinating. But no, these were real, flesh and blood human beings approaching, and there were four of them.
But as their features became apparent, Lauren wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. For three of the four approaching party were males, and recognition quickly set in that this was Carl, Al and the Boss, returning to the scene of their crimes. But what made Lauren gasp with surprise – and not a little relief - was the identity of the fourth member of the group. For there, striding down the beach – leading the way, in fact – was a woman in an ultra-tight black latex cat-suit and knee-length leather boots. But although she wore a black hood over her face and head, which left visible only her eyes, nostrils and ruby red mouth, plus a long blonde ponytail which blew wildly in the breeze, Lauren was in no doubt at all as to the identity of this woman...
...It was Amber!
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story continues in Ever Increasing Bondage 5