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Chapter 6: Penny’s Predicament
Penny was wondering what on earth was going on. She and Krysta had been chatting. Krysta had been admiring her dress – a candy-striped, seersucker, shirtwaister with a stand-up collar. Then they’d been discussing her latest story. Penny had described how her heroine was going to be enslaved by a man she had long admired. She was particularly pleased with a scene that she had just finished where her heroine found herself handcuffed and forced to wait on her captor and then, when she protested about his treatment of her, she was gagged with a ball that he pushed into her mouth over the niqaab she was wearing. It was only when she finished that Krysta realised she hadn’t seen Madeleine for a while. She looked out of the back window of the cottage. She said, “That’s funny. Maddy isn’t in the summer house. Where has she got to? I’ll see if I can find her. We ought to think about some food, I guess.”
Penny said, “Fine,” and Krysta had gone out to the garden.
There had been that thumping noise, like Krysta had knocked over some of the tomato boxes that were stacked by the path and then, after a while, the sound of the wind pump. Penny had looked out to see what was happening just as the sails ground to a halt. Now everything was quiet again but there wasn’t any sign of Krysta or Madeleine returning.
Penny suddenly felt very lonely.
She thought she heard a knock at the front door. Hoping it was Angela or Celia, Penny dashed out into the hall and opened it. There was no one there. Telling herself she must have imagined, it she went back to the living room.
As she went into the room she was suddenly seized from behind, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth. For an instant she felt as though she had been transported to one of her own stories but the terror of the situation broke through as something sharp pricked against her ribs and a voice hissed, “Keep very still and quiet if you don’t want to be hurt. All right?”
Penny whimpered “Mmm” into the glove.
“All right. So put your hands up slowly and turn around.”
Penny did as she was told and found herself facing a woman dressed in a black all in one suit and wearing a ski mask. For a moment she wondered if this was some game that the others had cooked up but this woman was slimmer and shorter than any of her week-end companions.
The woman was holding a broad bladed knife pointing at Penny’s belly. With her other hand she held out a wad of cloth. “Push this in your mouth,” she ordered.
Penny knew what to do. She’d tried it often enough in her own self-bondage games. ‘Research for the stories’ she had told herself it was but none of her “research” had prepared her for the frightening reality of her current situation. She crammed the cloth into her mouth, the dry, stuffing sensation at once familiar and frightening. She finished and raised her hands again, feeling foolish as she stood there, white cloth spilling from her mouth.
“Now take this cable tie and pull it around your mouth to keep the cloth in,” Penny took the strip of plastic. “And pull it tight or I’ll do it for you.”
As Penny pulled on the cable tie another masked, black clad figure, appeared. “I’ll take her upstairs,” a male voice said.
Penny looked around panic stricken.
“Don’t worry, he’s not after your virtue,” the woman said.
“Come on,” the man said impatiently, grabbing Penny by the arm and pushing her towards the stairs. She staggered and half fell up the stairs, keeping her hands up in a show of surrender, not wanting to do anything to antagonise her attackers.
He pushed her through the first door at the top of the stairs – Madeleine and Krysta’s room.
“On the bed, face down, hands behind you,” he ordered.
Penny felt faint with fright. The whole thing was made worse by the fact that scenes such as this had featured so often in her fantasies. The reality was more terrifying than anything she had imagined, though. She felt the man kneel astride her and pull her wrists together. A ripping noise was followed by the feel of tape being strapped around her wrists and a crushing sensation in her fingers as he taped those as well. The man followed up with the same treatment to her ankles and above her knees, catching her skirt in the tape. He went on with more below her knees and then around her chest, locking her arms against her sides. He rolled Penny over onto her back and plastered more tape across her mouth, over the cable tie and the mouth stuffing cloth.
As he finished, Penny heard a low whistle from down stairs. The man looked up in response and then said, “OK, stay there,” before he got off the bed and left her.
Penny tried to struggle against the tape that held her, groaning ineffectually into her gag, but it held her more tightly than she had ever managed to bind herself. She told herself to be calm. After all in many of her stories the helpless victim managed to struggle free from bonds just like these. It didn’t take her long to discover that, in that respect, her writing had most certainly been fiction. After only a few minutes efforts, soaked in sweat, she sank back against the bed, defeated and desperately scared.
© Freddie Clegg 2009
All rights reserved. Not to be reproduced or reposted without permission.
All characters fictitious
E-mail: freddie_clegg@yahoo.com Web Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freddies_tales/
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