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Rat Trap
by Demetrius (no address provided)

***

A throw-away comment about a stranger leads to 
disastrous consequences for four schoolgirls. (M/ffff-
teens, ped, nc, rp, 1st, oral, anal, bd)

***

Author Note: This story is totally fictitious and is 
designed only for your reading pleasure. The author 
does not advocate any of the situations and practices 
included here.

***

Have you ever noticed that some people seem to be born 
with more than their fair share of good things while 
others seem to have markedly less? Ronald Allan Talbot 
certainly had. Known to his few friends as "Rat", from 
his unfortunate initials, he had grown up the hard way 
in the poor San Ysidro area of San Diego. 

His mother, Annie, had struggled to raise him on a 
waitress's wages after his father had walked out when 
he was twelve. Ron had not been sorry to see him go. 
Ron Senior had been far too fond of the bottle and 
could be violent when in his cups, never hesitating to 
take out his bad temper on wife or child, whichever 
happened to be within striking distance. After his 
father's departure, young Ron had endured a series of 
"Uncles", most of whom viewed him as an unfortunate 
encumbrance to their brief relationships with his 
mother.

Ron had been a scrawny kid. Now twenty-seven, he was 
slender in build, balding prematurely and had an 
angular face that still bore the scars left behind by 
teenage acne. He looked back on his past with 
resentment. Not academically gifted, nor handsome, he 
had been a virtual outcast amongst his peers, spending 
most of his time with a couple of fellow male 
"rejects". 

They could only watch enviously from the sidelines as 
the rest of their classmates went through the usual 
rituals of dating, mating and breaking up, only to 
start the cycle again with someone new. Cut off from 
this rite of passage, Ron and his pals indulged 
instead in role-playing computer games where their 
real-life inadequacies were forgotten and they enjoyed 
the power to shape events to their needs.

One thing had saved Ron from sliding effortlessly into 
a life of crime at that time. One "Uncle" had formed a 
limited relationship with him during the seven months 
that he was around. He was a motor mechanic and Ron 
was at an age when he really loved cars. 

"Uncle Randy" had capitalized on this to build a shaky 
bridge between them. As it turned out, Ron had a 
natural aptitude for tinkering with engines and could 
soon tune up a car as well as Randy. As he grew a 
little older, and realized that he had limited career 
options, he turned this skill to good account so that, 
by the time that he was seventeen, word of mouth was 
spreading his reputation as a mechanic and he was soon 
earning good money tuning up cars in the evenings and 
at weekends.

The years of straining to keep a roof over their heads 
and food on the table took their toll on Annie and she 
died from breast cancer when Ron was just eighteen. It 
signalled a complete break from everything he had 
known till then. No parents, no real home, few 
friends... time for a new start. He had never 
travelled more than a hundred miles from where he 
lived and still didn't really have the sort of have 
the money to do so. It was in this somewhat undecided 
state of mind that he was walking through the local 
mall one weekend when he came across a small 
recruiting booth that had been set up by the Navy. 

One of their posters featured an extremely attractive 
young woman sitting in front of a radar screen. Ron 
paused to study the girl for a moment and the grizzled 
Chief Petty Officer at the table soon had him engaged 
in conversation. The man made the nautical life sound 
exciting and rewarding, with lots of foreign travel 
thrown in - all paid for by Uncle Sam, and Ron made a 
snap decision to sign on for a ten-year hitch right 
there and then.

After boot camp, his aptitude with things mechanical 
led to an assignment as an aircraft engine mechanic, 
working on F14s and F18s. He moved swiftly from Seaman 
Apprentice to Seaman and was posted to a carrier 
immediately on completion of his training. It was like 
living in a small city and there were a fair number of 
women on board but they were still in a substantial 
minority and not all of them were single.

Once again, Ron found himself on the outside, looking 
on enviously at the guys who had snapped up even the 
less immediately attractive females among his 
shipmates. Over the next nine years, however, he 
travelled widely and visited the "red light" area in 
many foreign ports where he paid for the female 
companionship that he had so far failed to find any 
other way.

He was approaching the end of his ten-year hitch, and 
seriously considering re-mustering, when he was 
involved in an incident that could easily have cost 
him his life. He was on the flight deck one night when 
an arrester wire snapped and whipped back in a deadly 
arc. Ron was at the extreme edge of the arc, with his 
back to the wire, the very tip of which caught him a 
glancing blow on the back of his head. 

Nonetheless, it lay bare a patch of his skull, caused 
a small depressed skull fracture and sent him to 
emergency surgery. On his eventual recovery, he was 
invalided out of the navy with a substantial pension 
and a scar faintly visible under his thinning hair. He 
was still subject to the occasional blinding headache 
but had been prescribed some fairly strong meds to 
ease them.

The one thing that Ron had learned from his early 
upbringing was frugality. During his time in the Navy, 
he had spent very little of his wages. All his food 
and accommodation were found and he spent months away 
from land so he had entrusted the care of his earnings 
to Aaron Marks, one of his few friends from the San 
Diego days. Aaron had since moved to Los Angeles and 
become a senior financial adviser with a major bank. 

Back in San Diego, and a civilian again, Ron was 
astonished to learn that, not only had Aaron invested 
Ron's money, but he had done so extremely shrewdly and 
Ron now had substantial savings and a highly 
profitable investment portfolio. He was not rich 
exactly but neither was he poor and, with his 
"disability" pension, he could live very comfortably. 
There was always a demand for qualified mechanics and 
his discharge papers praised his abilities highly so 
he knew that he would have no trouble finding work 
when he was ready, but he was in no rush.

So it was that one late summer lunchtime, soon after 
his discharge, Ron found himself back in San Diego. As 
usual, it was hot and sunny, and the sun-soaked city 
was abuzz with holiday-makers. He had decided that he, 
too, deserved a holiday and had found himself a small 
but comfortable motel in the Old Town that he could 
use as a base until he decided what his next step 
would be. That fateful Thursday he wandered into an 
Italian bistro on 49th Street, just before noon, found 
himself a table on the empty outside patio and settled 
himself down with the newspaper. 

An attractive young waitress appeared and asked him 
what he would like. "That depends on what you're 
offering," he said, intending to be amusing. The 
waitress was not amused. She simply stared at him 
disdainfully. "A glass of the house red," he snapped, 
picking up and studying the menu and she swept off 
without a word.

"Bitch," said Ron under his breath. It was a waiter 
who returned with his drink and took his order for 
lasagne and another glass of wine. Two glasses of wine 
would not normally have affected him but he had downed 
them quite quickly, and on an empty stomach, so - 
before he was halfway through his meal - he was aware 
of the alcohol making him feel quite heady. 

It did not stop him from ordering a third glass and, 
after the meal, a coffee and a brandy, which were 
delivered together with the bill. Ron sipped slowly on 
the brandy and then sat back to watch the world go by. 
As he relaxed, he began to feel a headache coming on. 
He took a couple of analgesic tablets from the supply 
he always carried and washed them down with the 
remains of his coffee.

He was just about to get up and leave when a group of 
four teenage girls appeared around a corner, walking, 
two by two, in his direction, each wearing a small 
back-pack. As they got closer, he judged them to be 
about fourteen or fifteen years old. They were all 
dressed in track suit bottoms, riding low on their 
hips, allowing a generous slice of bare midriff to 
show below the matching tops. Two of the girls had 
medium-brown hair and one was, he judged, a genuine 
blonde.

But the one who had his gaze riveted on her was a 
tall, slender girl with hair the colour of beaten 
copper and the most amazing green eyes that he had 
ever seen. All of them were attractive but the redhead 
was drop-dead gorgeous. He could not take his eyes off 
her and she was clearly aware of his stare as they 
hurried past, chattering and giggling. It was then 
that one of the front pair made a calamitous error. 
She turned to talk to one of the girls behind her and 
spotted him looking at their retreating figures. In a 
voice that carried easily to where he sat she said 
"Hey, Fee, who's that old fart staring at?"

They all turned back to look at him and the redhead 
laughed in response. "Oh, he's just some old perv," 
she said and they hurried on their way. For Ron, it 
was one insult too many at entirely the wrong moment. 
The drink and the burgeoning headache didn't help 
either. He had never been so angry in his entire life. 
He had grown to accept being politely put off by the 
women that he had approached in his life but to have 
some young tart slag him off for simply looking at her 
was too much. Somebody should teach her a lesson and, 
by god, it might just as well be him. He pulled out 
his billfold, extracted two twenties, threw them down 
on the table and hurried out of the bistro.

The girls were now out of sight but there were only a 
very limited number of routes they could take. He 
hurried along the street that they had taken as far as 
the first corner and spotted them some distance ahead 
down the side street. With no particular plan in mind, 
he followed them at a distance, and on the other side 
of the street, until they turned in through an archway 
and disappeared from his view. 

Approaching the archway cautiously, he found a sign 
fixed to the wall beside of the arch. "Madison Academy 
for Young Women" it proclaimed, and was evidently a 
private school for girls from well-to-do families. Ron 
looked around and fixed the location in his mind 
before hurrying back to his motel where he swiftly 
swallowed another of the analgesics that his Navy 
doctor had prescribed for him. He shut the drapes and 
lay down, planning to take a nap.

But his mind would not stop replaying the image of 
"Fee" calling him an old perv and he started getting 
angry again. With a great effort of will, he calmed 
himself down and thought about what to do. He knew 
what he would like to do!! Not just to her but to all 
of them. Laughing at him like that. At last, he began 
to drift into sleep with vengeance very much on his 
mind. His subconscious obliged by providing dreams 
which were filled with vivid images of all four of the 
bitches hanging, whimpering, in chains and completely 
at his mercy. 

He was just about to deal with the first one when he 
woke up with a throbbing erection and an overwhelming 
sense of being thwarted again. He lay in the darkened 
room, pondering what he might do. He had money, he had 
time but did he have the nerve to exact some sort of 
revenge on those little tarts? Well, he needed 
something to occupy him for a while, and planning 
something was not like actually doing it. It might 
perhaps prove an interesting challenge to devise a 
plan. 

His military training had taught him that any good 
plan relies on intelligence and that meant finding out 
as much as he could about the four girls. Well, he had 
a good starting point. With his headache now receding, 
he glanced at his watch. If he hurried, he might just 
be able to get back to the Academy as the girls came 
out. There was an alley almost opposite the school 
where he could stand and not be immediately obvious.

Twenty minutes later, he was in position and waiting 
for the girls to leave. A small procession of 
expensive cars and SUVs was lined up on either side of 
the street, all driven by impeccably groomed women... 
mothers, he assumed, waiting to pick up their little 
darlings. And, sure enough, a distant bell soon 
sounded and they all came trooping out of the 
building, laughing and joking. 

He spotted "Big Red" almost immediately. God, she was 
coming almost straight towards him. He half turned 
away from her and pretended to be checking out the 
siding on the building beside the alley. She walked up 
to a BMW SUV, driven by an expensive-looking woman 
with hair a very similar copper colour. They exchanged 
a few words and the girl turned and called out "Sarah, 
Jennie, over here."

The two girls with medium-brown hair materialised from 
the throng and came over. Able to see them more 
clearly now out of the corner of his eye, Ron guessed 
that they were sisters since they shared many facial 
and physical characteristics. They looked to be about 
a year apart in age. As they reached the BMW, "Fee" 
opened the sliding side door. "We're giving you a ride 
home," she said and they all piled in. As they did so, 
Ron heard the older of the two brown-haired girls say 
"Thank you, Mrs. McNish" and heard the woman reply, 
"You're welcome, Sarah".

As the vehicle started to move out, Ron pulled a small 
notebook from his pocket and recorded the plate 
number, and then added "Fee/Fi? McNish" and, under 
that, "Sarah, Jenny". Thoughtfully, he moved off and 
went into a local coffee shop. Sipping on an 
Americano, he reviewed what he knew to this point. All 
the girls went to a private academy and were likely 
all from wealthy homes. The girl who was called Fee, 
or Fi, probably had the last name McNish. That sounded 
Scottish so there was a strong chance that her name 
was actually Fiona. It was hardly likely to be Fifi 
after all.

Two of the other three girls were sisters names Sarah 
(the older) and Jenny (the younger) who lived 
relatively close to the McNish girl since they were 
being dropped off by Mrs. McNish. Not a bad start. 
Maybe a visit to the library would turn up some more 
information. 

Smiling to himself, Ron strolled across town in the 
afternoon sunshine and was soon working his way 
through the reference shelves. The telephone directory 
revealed only three listings under McNish. The one he 
figured was "his" lived at 1992 Mariposa Way in Lemon 
Grove, the wealthy area not too far from the 
University. Many of the people who lived out there 
worked at the University. Not really expecting to find 
anything useful, Ron turned to the computer and did a 
web search for the University's Faculty.

He was stunned to find a Professor Alistair McNish 
listed as being Head of the Department of Economics. 
Moving to the Who's Who, he discovered that Alistair 
McNish was married to a Margaret McNish (nee Banting) 
and that they had two children, Cameron aged 17 and... 
BINGO... Fiona... he did the math... yes, she was now 
15. Ron sat back in disbelief. In little more than an 
hour, he had discovered big red's name and address. 
With that, he was sure he could find the others too. 
He was elated and quickly added the additional 
information to his notebook. This was proving to be 
fun.

He decided to try something else. Back at the 
computer, he entered "Madison Academy" and started to 
explore their website. He skimmed through the opening 
paragraphs that talked about the "unique opportunities 
offered to girls of exceptional ability" and the heavy 
emphasis on sports, especially "swimming", for which 
the school enjoyed an enviable reputation. His eye was 
caught by the hyperlink and he clicked on it. 

A new page opened up, listing the trophies and 
competitions that the school had won. Included was a 
photograph of the swim team who had placed first in 
the state inter-school competition a year earlier. 
Studying the picture closely, Ron's pulse quickened. 
He couldn't be absolutely sure but he was fairly 
confident that one of the swimmers was the blonde who 
had been in the group. 

He read through the names under the photo and 
discovered that the girl in question was Astrid 
Johannsen. Switching to the "Facilities" section of 
the site, he discovered that the school did not have 
its own Olympic-sized pool, so the team therefore 
trained at a local recreation centre. Things now 
started to come together for Ron, since he was sure 
that there was a recreation centre with an Olympic 
sized pool located on Landis Street, just around the 
corner from which he had first seen the girls 
approaching. Fatefully, he abandoned the school's web 
page at that point. 

Looking again in the local phone book, he found a Nils 
Johannsen listed in Lemon Grove at 922 Whittaker 
Drive. He tried the University listings again but had 
no luck. Still, there was a fair chance that Astrid, 
likely coming from the same area as the McNish family, 
was from that particular Johannsen family.

Ron decided to call it a day. He had achieved much 
more than he would have imagined possible in a 
remarkably short time. Back in his room, he studied 
his notes and started to try and organize his 
thoughts. The four girls were, he believed, Fiona 
McNish, sisters Sarah and Jenny, (last name still to 
be found) and Astrid Johannsen, all from wealthy homes 
in the Lemon Grove area and all likely on one of the 
school's swim teams. They trained at the local pool, 
probably on Thursdays. The last should be easy to 
confirm next week.

Ron recognized that he was facing a decision. What had 
started as a fanciful idea now looked to have the 
hallmarks of an achievable design. But what form 
should his revenge take. Spray-painting the family car 
or trashing their gardens did not seem to be personal 
enough. They had humiliated him and he wanted to 
humiliate them in return, but how? Fragments of his 
dream floated back to him; the girls in chains, at his 
mercy. In the best of all worlds, what would he do in 
such a situation? Stupid question. What wouldn't he 
do! He'd make them pay for the rejection and 
humiliation that he had suffered at the hands of women 
all his life.
 
He began to consider, theoretically, what would be 
needed to make his dream a reality. First, he would 
need a place to keep the girls where they were not 
likely to be discovered for as long as he required to 
achieve his purpose. He'd need some form of transport. 
Well, that was easy. Then he'd need a fool-proof plan 
to abduct them without the world at large being 
immediately aware so that he had time to get them to 
his secure place. 

He'd pretty well have to grab them all at once, and 
his best chance of achieving that was as they returned 
from swimming practice. That is, assuming his guess on 
that subject was correct. Ron made a pact with 
himself. He'd wait outside of the pool next Thursday 
at around 12.15 and give them half an hour. If they 
all appeared, he'd take it as an omen to proceed. If 
they didn't appear, he'd forget about it.

Waiting for the days to pass was not easy and, 
although he did not yet know if, by his self-
established rules, the project was a go, he could not 
stop mentally working out the details for it. He set 
about listing other items that he'd need. He was no 
longer known to anyone in town, and anonymity would 
certainly be an asset. The absence of any obvious 
motive would make it hard for the police to develop a 
course of action. They would assume kidnap for ransom, 
the families all being well to do, but if there were 
no demands for money, they would have no leads to 
follow. 

To minimize the risk of anyone giving a reliable 
description, he could adopt a simple disguise... one 
of his role-playing games taken to a new level. He 
could wear lifts to increase his height, wear two or 
three layers of clothes to add a few pounds, apply a 
make-up base to darken his skin, maybe even use a 
"rug" to hide his thinning hair and the traces of his 
scar. Perhaps even a fake moustache. Nothing elaborate 
but sufficient to make it unlikely that, minus these 
props, he would be recognized as the same person. Here 
was another element of the scheme that could work. He 
resolved that, if he did decide to pursue this 
further, he should adopt this new persona any time he 
was putting pieces of the plan into action.

That first night, he tossed and turned as his mind 
whirled with additional ideas. Restraints... he'd need 
restraints. Food too. He was no great shakes as a cook 
so it would have to be microwave-ready meals. He 
shouldn't buy all these things at one time or in one 
place as someone might just possibly remember him. 
Without his realising it, he slipped from planning the 
abduction purely as a mental exercise to starting to 
take concrete steps towards making it a reality.

Next day, he wrote himself a list of all the items 
that he had thought of during the night and tucked it 
into his wallet. He went out, locked the motel room 
behind him and went down to the office. The manager 
was behind the desk. He looked up as Ron entered.

"Yes, sir. Can I help you?"

"Yes. I've decided to stick around for a little while. 
I'd like to keep the room for the next couple of 
weeks."

"Of course, sir. About payment..."

"I'll pay you cash now," Ron said.

"Excellent. In that case, I'm sure we can offer you a 
deal," the manager smiled.

Ron took out his billfold, handed over the notes and 
waited while the manager printed off a receipt. Now he 
would be able to come and go as he pleased without the 
manager constantly watching his movements to see if he 
was skipping out without paying.

Finally, it was Thursday again and Ron took up a 
position overlooking the Recreational Centre but where 
he was not likely to be seen. As the minutes passed, 
he found that his heart was pounding and he couldn't 
have said whether it was because he was afraid they 
wouldn't show or because he feared they would. In the 
event, at around a twenty-five past twelve, he saw the 
young quartet emerge from the building, dressed as 
before and carrying, he imagined, their towels and 
swimsuits in their packs. What was more, they all had 
wet hair. He'd nailed it. 

He sat back and realised that he had been holding his 
breath. He remained still, taking in the enormity of 
what this meant. He was really going through with it. 
Of course, he could always change his mind at any 
point but, for now at least, it was game on.

And that meant that he might be smart to get himself 
some different clothes for his alter ego sooner rather 
than later. Shoes, with lifts were easy but his frugal 
nature balked at spending lots of money on clothes he 
would only require for a short while. A good quality 
consignment store might provide a solution. 

The next morning, he stopped off at a small café for 
breakfast and picked up a copy of the local paper to 
read over his coffee. Flipping through the pages, he 
saw a number of ads for real estate, both private and 
commercial, which set him thinking and a plan began to 
coalesce in his mind.

As soon as he had finished his breakfast, he set about 
acquiring his "new" wardrobe and, by lunchtime, had 
stowed it carefully in his motel room. He checked for 
theatrical make-up suppliers in the Yellow Pages. He 
was not going to buy make-up in a pharmacy. A man 
buying make-up might just be remembered if anything 
went wrong.

The toughest part of his plan, he thought, would be to 
establish a new legal identity. Thinking about this, 
he decided to visit a bar on the seedier side of town. 
He sat up at the counter and it wasn't long before he 
and the barkeep fell to chatting. His name was Tony 
and, as it turned out, he too was ex-navy. Ron kept 
plying Tony with drinks and a camaraderie quickly 
developed. Ron let it be known, quietly, that he'd had 
a few problems with leaving the navy and would dearly 
like to "disappear". Tony looked around to make sure 
nobody was watching them and then quickly wrote an 
address on a piece of paper, passing it 
surreptitiously to Ron.

"Tijuana?" Ron said quietly.

"Yes," Tony nodded. "You walk over the border, give 
the guy at that address fifty bucks and, within the 
hour, he'll give you a new Social Security Card and a 
Driver's License from any state you want. If you need 
a birth certificate, it'll cost you another fifty."

"Holy shit!" Ron exclaimed.

"You need a shooter?"

"Why? You got a line on them too?"

Tony just tapped the side of his nose as if to say 
"Ask no questions."

"If I did, what would it cost me?"

"For an ex-service pal, let's say a hundred."

Ron considered the matter.

"Could it be traced?"

Tony looked at him scornfully.

"Do me a favour!"

Ron apologised, pulled two fifty dollar bills from his 
billfold and slipped one of them to Tony.

"Fifty now, fifty on delivery. Okay?"

Tony slipped the bill swiftly into his pocket.

"You got it. Pick it up tomorrow evening. Come at 
around four, four-thirty. It should be fairly quiet 
then."

Ron nodded, put the second fifty into his own pocket, 
paid his bill and slipped quietly out of the bar.

*

On Monday afternoon, a smartly-dressed, deeply-tanned, 
tall young man with neatly-cut black hair and a small 
black moustache entered a bank in the downtown core, 
introduced himself and asked the girl at the 
information desk about opening an account. The girl 
phoned a number and a pretty young account executive 
hurried out to meet him. The receptionist introduced 
him.

"This is Mr. Michael Dennison, He has just returned 
from living abroad and he wishes to open an account."

"Oh, where were you?" the woman asked.

"Dubai and Oman," Ron answered.

The woman recognized that this usually meant money and 
Ron found himself being whisked into an adjacent 
office where he was quickly settled into a comfortable 
chair.

"Would you care for some coffee?" the woman asked.

"Not for me, thank you," Ron answered, not because he 
couldn't have drunk a cup but because he did not want 
the girl to see that his hand was shaking. His new ID 
was about to be put to the test. As it turned out, the 
whole transaction went as smoothly as his trip to 
Tijuana had done and, within the hour, Michael 
Dennison had both a solid current and a substantial 
savings account, a debit card, a Master Card promised 
immediately and an account for Dennison Marine in 
process of being set up, backed by his own personal 
finances.

"We'll mail your personal and business cheques to 
you," the woman said.

"No, hold them here please. I'll be out of town for a 
few days and don't want them lying around while I'm 
gone. I'll pick them up next Monday."

"Certainly, Mr. Dennison. A week should be fine," she 
said and he was on his way.

There was no point in them mailing anything to him 
because the address he had given didn't exist. Oh, the 
street existed alright. He'd used Mariposa Way, Lemon 
Grove but the house number was fictitious. Ron 
reasoned that it would be over a month before a 
statement would be issued and another week before it 
was returned. It would take a while longer before the 
bank found out why. By that time, unless something 
went dramatically wrong, he'd be long gone and Michael 
Dennison would have vanished forever. He went back to 
his motel and became Ron Talbot again.

He was stunned by how easily this was going and every 
new success bolstered his confidence that he could 
make all the rest of whatever would be involved in the 
plan work just as smoothly. The next step was to find 
a suitable holding place for the girls. To do that, he 
needed transport for getting around town. Scanning the 
"For Sale" section of the paper, he spotted exactly 
what he wanted ...an anonymous but practical 1980 
Yamaha 650 motor-cycle. He called the number listed 
and learned that it was still available. The address 
was some way away so he grabbed a taxi but had it drop 
him off a couple of blocks away. 

The owner initially asked $1,250 for it but Ron soon 
started listing what he saw as problems that he would 
need to fix and ended up getting it for $900 and even 
got the guy to throw in a motor-cycle helmet that 
fitted Ron perfectly. 

They immediately attended to the transfer and 
insurance papers at the local broker's office and Ron 
rode the machine back to the motel. He spent the next 
morning tinkering and replacing a few minor parts. 
Three hours and $60 later, the bike was running like 
silk. Quiet, inconspicuous and able to slip through 
congested traffic, it was perfect for now. His first 
trip was to reconnoitre the two home addresses he had 
for the girls. 

He purred along the Martin Luther King Freeway to the 
Broadway exit, then travelled south on Broadway to 
Washington Street. He throttled back and cruised 
quietly along Golden Avenue seeking his targets. It 
added to his confidence to note that, when he had 
located them, both homes had swimming pools, and he 
grinned happily as he made his way back to the motel. 

In order to try to fulfil the next step of his plan, 
he decided to cruise the dock area and look at some of 
the industrial sites. Over the years, the ship-
building and maintenance industries that had been a 
big part of San Diego's waterfront had been 
contracting. As he rode the wide but relatively empty 
streets, Ron found that, at the fringe of the 
waterfront area, there were several "For Lease" signs 
that looked as though they had been there for a while. 

One particular structure caught his eye. It was set 
behind high wire fences, topped with razor wire, on a 
frontage that was at least 1,200 feet and it seemed to 
be almost as deep. The main building, which was set 
back against the water, was large and looked as though 
it had originally been a repair shop for private 
craft.

Ron made a note of the leasing agent's name, address 
and phone number; then he looked around for the 
inevitable bar. Sure enough, he spotted a sign half a 
block away and headed for the door. It is the same the 
world over. Take care of the barman and you can find 
out nearly anything you need to know if you go about 
it with subtlety. Armed with a whole raft of 
information, Ron headed back home. 

*

On Wednesday morning, Michael Dennison walked 
downtown, went into a decent hotel and settled himself 
in a telephone booth from which he phoned the leasing 
agent, Henry Fowler.

"Fowler," a voice growled.

"Mr. Fowler, my name is Michael Dennison. I'm calling 
from the Carlton. I'm in San Diego presently to find a 
commercial property suitable for a leisure-craft 
engineering and repair operation. I believe you handle 
such properties."

"Absolutely", the voice purred. "Now then...

Later that day, Ron – as Michael Dennison – was picked 
up in Carlton Hotel lobby by Fowler and was shown 
around the waterfront building. The ground floor was 
built around a basin that emptied into a broad sweep 
of water which, in turn, flowed into the ocean. A 
large gantry crane straddled the basin and was 
designed to lift water craft out of the basin, trundle 
back on railway tracks and deposit them onto work 
cradles for repair or repainting.

A mezzanine floor contained offices, changing rooms 
for the former work crew, complete with showers, and a 
small kitchen/eating area, now minus any cooking 
equipment. All the upstairs rooms had suspended 
acoustic-tile ceilings. Working hard to keep any trace 
of enthusiasm out of his voice, Ron stared around him.

"Yes, it could work I suppose. What terms are you 
looking for?

"Well, Mr Dennison, my principal is looking for 
$20,000 per month with a minimum 5-year term. As you 
can see, it is a very desirable location"

Ron laughed out loud. "Which is, no doubt, why this 
place has stood empty for nearly two years," he 
snapped. "Don't waste my time, Mr. Fowler. This is 
costing 'your principal' big time. If I'm to take this 
on, I need to spend at least three months cleaning it 
up, getting my equipment set up and hiring the staff 
I'll require. Here is my offer. I want the first three 
month's rent free, after which I'll pay him $15,000 a 
month on a 3-year term."

"He'll never go for that," Fowler choked.

"He'll never go for it if you don't ask him," Ron said 
coolly. "Tell him that's my best offer. He can take it 
or leave it. I'm away till next Monday. I'll phone you 
that morning. If he agrees to the terms, have the 
papers ready and I'll sign them. If not, we'll just 
forget all about it. Now, back to my Hotel, I think."

He strode out of the building and tapped his toe 
impatiently as Fowler relocked the padlock that 
secured the main gates. They were both silent as 
Fowler drove him back to the Hotel where Michael 
Dennison wished him a curt good afternoon and walked 
in through the main entrance. A few minutes later, Ron 
Talbot walked out of the back door to where his 
motorcycle was parked.

*

The next few days passed in a whirl. He took an 
overnight trip up to Los Angeles, where he had dinner 
with Aaron and updated his investment strategy and 
then he spent the following morning visiting a number 
of different sex shops, specialising in bondage, where 
he purchased handcuffs and chains... never enough in 
any one store to arouse suspicion but, cumulatively, 
ample to restrain four young women. 

Back in San Diego, Monday seemed to take forever to 
arrive. Not wishing to appear over-anxious, he waited 
until nearly noon before phoning the leasing agent. 

"Mr. Dennison, I think I have good news for you. My 
principal has agreed to everything but the three-year 
term. He really has to have the assurance of a five-
year lease."

Ron suppressed a triumphant cheer.

"Very well. That's not a deal breaker. If the business 
does well, I won't want to move anyway and if it 
fails, the whole thing becomes academic. Draw up the 
deal and I'll sign it."

"I had hoped that's what you would say so I took a 
chance and had the papers drawn up already for you."

"Excellent. Well done, Fowler. In that case, I'll come 
over this afternoon and we'll get this thing 
completed."

*

Thus, on Tuesday, Ronald Allen Talbot, alias Michael 
Dennison, was handed a set of keys to the padlock of 
his new Marine Engineering Business and took the 
irrevocable step towards gaining his revenge on four 
teenage bitches who were going to learn what 
humiliation was all about. His first step was to go to 
the building and, quite contrary to the agreement he 
had just signed, remove the landlord's padlock from 
the gate and lock himself into the site with a brand 
new lock to which only he had the key. Going into the 
building, he walked out to the end of the basin and 
hurled the old lock and key way out into the river 
where they immediately disappeared beneath the oily 
water.

Walking back into the main building, he went up the 
stairs and examined the mezzanine floor in 
considerable detail. At one end was a storage room 
then a number of small offices built in a row, next 
changing rooms, showers and lastly – at the opposite 
end – a kitchen/dining area. The outside walls of the 
building were drywall and insulation over concrete 
tilt-up construction and the dividing partition walls 
between the offices were simple stud and drywall. Ron 
took some measurements and sketched out some simple 
plans.

From that point on, he lost track of time. As soon as 
he had collected his Dennison Marine business cheques 
and credit cards, he set up business credit accounts 
at the local hardware and lumber supply yard, a 
furniture/home appliance store and an electronics 
warehouse. He ordered whatever he thought he might 
need, knowing that, by the time the accounts fell due, 
he would have withdrawn his money from the business 
and gone. Similarly, with the utility companies. He 
got excellent service in restoring the electricity and 
water supply to the building. 

His booking at the motel expired but he visited the 
thrift stores in town and bought himself a bed, some 
bedding, some cooking utensils and a microwave so that 
he was soon able to camp out quite comfortably in the 
kitchen area of his hideaway. Huge sliding doors on 
the side of the building permitted large trucks to 
drive right into the building to unload fibreglass 
insulation, lumber and other miscellaneous hardware 
that included chain, large eye-hooks and some boxes of 
electronics. 

He kept his motor-cycle concealed and most of the 
delivery drivers had him pegged as an agent for the 
owner of the place. His "Michael Dennison" disguise 
had become so second nature to him that he would have 
felt slightly odd as Ron during that period.

He was happy to work fourteen hours a day in his new 
surroundings since he had a lot to accomplish in a 
relatively short time. He quickly removed the 
partition wall dividing the largest of the offices 
from the change area/shower room. He left the toilet 
partitions and the clothes lockers. The latter would 
come in useful for storing bedding and other essential 
items. These two areas had now become one large space 
measuring about 36' x 20'. He started framing up a new 
perimeter wall all-round the inside of the space, 
about fifteen inches in from the original outside 
wall, except on the wall that abutted the mezzanine 
walkway. On this wall, he brought the new perimeter 
wall in about four feet and created a short corridor 
to connect what would soon become his holding room to 
the mezzanine gallery. He put a stout door frame at 
each end of this short linking hallway.

He popped the ceiling tiles, section by section and 
spread eighteen inches of fibreglass insulation above 
the whole area, and then covered that with reflective 
silver foil. He also secreted a very sensitive 
microphone in the ceiling of the holding area, 
shielded from view by a light fitting, and ran the 
cable over the roof trusses to the kitchen area. More 
foil-covered, sound-deadening insulation filled the 
fifteen inch cavity between the old and new perimeter 
walls. 

He framed up the new back wall using 6" by 6" posts 
instead of the usual 2" x 4" studs and these posts 
were securely anchored to the roof trusses at the top 
and to the solid wood floor at the bottom. He had done 
the same thing with the door frames. Satisfied that 
the room would be sound-proof, he ran in two electric 
outlets on each wall before sheeting them in with 
drywall.
 
He installed steel doors, equipped with sturdy locks, 
at either end of the short walkway from the mezzanine 
gallery into the holding room. He would now be able to 
hustle the girls into the space, locking one door 
behind them before opening the other. The inner door 
had a window of wired glass which would allow him to 
check the room out before entering.

Having carefully marked the position of the 6" posts 
on the drywall covering the back wall, he was able to 
pre-drill pilot holes and screw two of the large eye-
hooks into each post, the first about six inches from 
the floor and another about seven feet above it. He 
then took lengths of chain and attached them to the 
eye-hooks with padlocks. He took the eight pairs of 
handcuffs and cut the middle link of the connecting 
chain to give him sixteen manacles. 

Another set of padlocks allowed him to connect these 
to the chain hanging from each of the eye hooks. Ron 
now had the ability to secure the girls in any one of 
several ways. Using the long lengths of chain, they 
had a limited range of movement but remove those and 
the manacles could be secured directly to the eye-
hooks leaving the girls spread-eagled and unable to 
move. He could also chain the girls to each other if 
he chose. Time for the finishing touches.

A trip to a discount carpet store led to him finding 
two or three rolls of a truly ugly but very thick 
carpet which the store almost gave away. An industrial 
catering equipment supply company had a huge elderly 
chest freezer which they let him have for a song and 
at a bulk food warehouse, he bought enough in the way 
of microwave meals and toilet necessities for the 
entire period he expected to be involved. He also 
picked up a couple of electric heaters. 

It could get quite cool at night. He had taken the 
precaution of placing the silver foil over the 
insulation so that, in the very remote event that any 
heat loss should occur through the insulation, it 
would be reflected back into the room. It was a very 
minor possibility that they would even be looking but 
he did not want any police aircraft detecting his 
presence in a seemingly empty building through infra-
red seeping out. He also moved one of the big tables 
from the dining area into the holding room, setting it 
against a side wall and fixing an eye-hook low down on 
each leg. He did the same thing with a sturdy wooden 
chair.

All the major items he had purchased were charged. He 
paid cash for only the incidentals. On the basis that 
it would be at least a month before the bills started 
to arrive, Ron calculated that the charged items would 
never be paid for and his cash outlay had been no more 
than $1,500 all in. More than half had been for the 
motor cycle and he was sure he could sell it again for 
his full outlay now he had tweaked it. In any case, 
even if he kept the bike, it was money he could well 
afford and it had already provided him with a lot more 
of a thrill than any computer role-playing game. 
"Besides', he rationalized, "any hobby costs money."

He walked round admiring his handiwork. He had 
purchased a ghetto blaster radio and placed it on the 
chair in the room. He plugged it in, found a rock 
station and cranked the volume up to full. The noise 
was almost deafening. He went over to the first door, 
went into the connecting corridor and closed the door 
behind him. The volume dropped to less than half. 
Outside the second door, he could hear nothing. He 
laughed out loud. Let the girls scream as loud as they 
liked. Even someone in the building wouldn't hear 
them... and the building was over 500 feet from the 
road along which there was very little motor traffic 
and even less pedestrian traffic.
 
He was ready. But for what? He had planned everything 
but how he was going to grab the girls. He took the 
radio from the room into his own kitchen area. There 
was no way he was going to let the girls listen in to 
any news reports. They were for his ears only. He 
switched on and found a news channel. Fucking 
commercials. He sat at the table, thinking. The 
commercial ended and an earnest-voiced announcer came 
on the air. 

"And now for today's weather outlook. The current warm 
weather will continue for the next two or three days 
with temperatures getting up to 85 degrees. However, 
we are watching a tropical depression which is 
developing off the coast and which, if it continues on 
its present track, could cause heavy rains and high 
winds throughout the area towards Wednesday or 
Thursday."

Ron sat up suddenly. Heavy rains? Was this the chance 
he needed? The next morning, he got the bike out, 
locked the building and the yard securely behind him 
and set out on a tour of second-hand car dealers and 
scrap yards. It was late afternoon before he found 
what he was seeking. 

At the back of a junk-yard, awaiting removal to the 
crusher, sat an old Yellow Cab that had started to 
cost its owner more in repairs than it could generate 
in revenue. Ron checked it out. The body was still in 
fair condition but the motor was in rough shape. It 
still ran... sort of... but Ron was sure he could soon 
tune it up. Besides, it only had to get him through a 
couple of days. He beat the scrap dealer down to the 
figure he'd have got for scrap and told him he'd be 
back to pick it up late next day. 

Nursing the cab carefully back just after dark to the 
boat shop, Ron drove it inside and spent the next day 
tinkering with the engine and cleaning the exterior 
and interior until it looked, if not brand new, at 
least fairly respectable. It took him an age to get 
the "Not For Hire/For Hire" sign working but, by 
evening, he was sure that it would pass muster at 
least once, and that was all he wanted. Now everything 
depended on how accurate the weather forecast was.

Wednesday dawned warm but sultry and by late 
afternoon, the clouds started building. By Thursday 
morning it was dense, grey overcast and a steady 
breeze was blowing in off the water. Still, it was 
nothing too alarming. Around 11.30, it started to 
rain...hard! At noon, Ron – in his Michael Dennison 
persona - eased the cab out of the boat-shop, leaving 
the sliding doors into the building open, then drove 
out of the yard, pausing only long enough to lock the 
heavy iron gates. 

By the time he got back into the cab, the rain was 
coming down in torrents and the wind was whipping the 
trees around in an alarming manner. Ron made sure that 
his "Not for Hire" sign was illuminated and drove 
slowly through the downpour to take up a position 
within half a block of the pool entrance. He arrived 
around 12.15, and sat with the engine off, shrugging 
and shaking his head at anyone who was hoping to hire 
him. The weather was appalling and people scurried by, 
their clothes plastered against them and their 
umbrellas useless in the wind.

Ron unlocked and opened the glove box of the cab, 
removing the snub-nosed pistol he had bought and 
stowed there. He slipped it into his jacket pocket 
where he could reach it in a moment. There was a 
tartan blanket neatly folded on the back seat. 
Everything depended on timing now. At 12.25, he 
started the engine, switched on the windshield wipers 
and started blowing warm air over the windshield to 
clear the condensation that had formed on the inside. 
Four minutes later, he could see clearly. Two minutes 
after that, he spotted the four girls come out of the 
building. They were clearly shocked by the 
deterioration in the weather.

Ron slammed the cab into gear, switching the sign to 
"For Hire" and drove for the pool entrance. Fiona saw 
the cab approaching and flung up her arm.

"Taxi," she yelled and Ron slid the cab to a stop 
beside her. The passenger doors were flung open and 
Jenny piled into the front while Sarah, Fiona and 
Astrid plunged into the back, laughing and brushing 
water out of their hair.

Ron pulled away from the curb and whipped into a side-
street out of the traffic. 

"Hey", said Fiona "We want the Madison Academy. Where 
are you going?"

"There's been an accident a bit further down the road. 
We have to drive around it," Ron told her. 

She seemed satisfied for the moment. Ron was filled 
with anxiety. He needed to get onto emptier streets so 
that he could move at a speed where none of his 
passengers would risk jumping out. Then he could pull 
the pistol and have them under control. He weaved 
around a couple of parked cars, round a corner and was 
clear. Putting his foot down on the accelerator, he 
shot forward. The girls were all pressed back into 
their seats.

"What the hell are you doing?"

This from Astrid.

"This is not the way to the Academy," said Sarah.

Ron reached into his jacket and pulled out the pistol. 
The girls screamed in unison. Ron pointed the pistol 
directly at Jenny.

"Alright, bitches, down on the floor or the kid here 
gets it."

There was a moment of shocked disbelief on everyone's 
face.

"I'll count to three," Ron screamed. "One, two..."

But by two, the three in the back were struggling to 
crouch down in the well between the front and back 
seats.

"You," Ron said, waving the pistol at Jenny, "reach 
over and spread that blanket over them."

Jenny did as she was told. Tears streamed down her 
face and she was clearly terrified. 

"Now, open the glove box."

Hand trembling, she did so.

"See that cloth?"

The girl nodded.

"Take it out, close the glove box and tie the cloth 
over your eyes so that you can't see. I'll check it 
when you've finished so don't fuck with me."

Jenny did as she was told and Ron glanced over to 
satisfy himself that she had done it properly. 

"Right, down on the floor."

She slid off the seat and crouched down under the 
dash.

"If none of you do anything stupid, no one will get 
hurt," Ron said.

He cranked up the radio to mask any chance of 
neighbourhood sounds offering a clue as to their 
location and drove on, weaving left and right, 
doubling back and taking a long and circuitous route 
back to the boat-shop. 

Pulling up by the gate, he said to the girls in the 
back "I and the kid are getting out for a minute. If 
any of you move and try to look out from under that 
blanket, I'll blow her knee-cap off. Do you 
understand?"

A muffled sound came from under the blanket.

"I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Ron roared.

"Yes!" said three voices.

"Good," he said more calmly. "Alright kid, keep your 
blindfold on, open the door and get out of the cab." 

He watched carefully as Jenny felt around until she 
found the door handle. She pushed the door open and 
the door chime started to sound. Cautiously, she felt 
for the ground, then stood up beside the cab. Ron 
jumped out and ran to open the padlock on the gates, 
swinging them open, then ran back to take his seat in 
the cab.

"Okay, back in the cab." He called. The girl fumbled 
her way into the cab again, pulling the door closed 
behind her as he drove through the gate. Stopping 
again, he made her repeat the performance while he 
locked up again. Once more he drove up the road and 
straight into the building. Feeling relatively secure, 
he jumped out and closed the sliding doors, replacing 
the padlock on the inside.

He could not believe it. He had actually managed to 
grab all of them, just as he had dreamed of doing and, 
now that he had them inside the building, he was 
reasonably sure that he was safe. Even if anyone had 
seen the girls leaving the pool, which he doubted, 
they would have thought nothing remarkable about them 
jumping into one of the hundreds of Yellow Cabs that 
served the city. Certainly, they would have no reason 
to note the number. 

He was quite sure that nobody had seen him drive into 
the yard here because the streets were deserted in the 
storm. There was absolutely nothing to link him with 
the girls. To all intents and purposes, they would 
simply have disappeared off the face of the planet and 
had likely not even been missed yet. It would probably 
be another thirty minutes at the earliest before 
anyone questioned where they were. He was home and dry 
so let the fun begin.

He pulled some wide strips of rag from one of his 
pockets and strode over to Jenny, putting the gun to 
her head. She whimpered as he did so. He opened the 
rear door of the cab.

"Okay, you bitches. Here's what's going to happen. The 
kid here has a gun at her head. Tell them kid."

"It's true" she cried.

"Right. I'm passing you some blindfolds. You're going 
to put them on. If I get the slightest idea that you 
can see over, under or around them, you are sealing 
the kid's death warrant. Do you understand?'

Some muted yeses came from under the blanket.

"I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" he screamed again and 
Jenny burst into tears.

"Yes," was the loud response.

"That's better. Now do it."

He passed the blindfolds under the blanket.

"When all three of you are securely blindfolded, tell 
me."

"I am," said a voice.

"Me too," said a second.

There was a short pause and then he heard Fiona say.

"Okay."

He pulled the blanket off them.

"Out of the Cab. Blondie, you first."

Astrid struggled to get upright from her cramped 
position and staggered a little as she stood up on the 
unloading dock. 

"Right, Mouse. You next."

Sarah followed suit and stood, shaking, beside Astrid 
and Jenny.

"Red, your turn."

Fiona took her time. Inside, she was quaking but she 
was determined not to let whoever this maniac was see 
it. She worked her way out of the car, colliding with 
Sarah as she sought to get her balance. Ron slammed 
the cab door shut. He grabbed Jenny's hand and she 
winced. 

"Reach out and grab the hand of the girl next to you" 
Ron commanded and smiled as they fumbled around to do 
as they were told. 

"Follow where I lead you," he said and he pulled Jenny 
towards the stairs up to the mezzanine. She shuffled 
along and the others all followed in a straggling 
crocodile.

"Stairs up," he warned as they reached the wooden 
flight. The girls stumbled as they reached the first 
riser.

"There are thirteen of them," Ron told them as they 
all staggered up to the landing. Ron led them along to 
where the two doors into the containment area were 
wedged open. He pushed Jenny into the short hallway 
and the others followed. He pushed them on further and 
locked the outer door behind him. On he nudged them, 
in through the inner door which he then also locked. 
	

"The rest of you, stand still. Red, you come this 
way."

He grabbed her arm. She tried to jerk it away but his 
grip was too strong. He dragged her over to the back 
wall where all the long restraints lay or dangled with 
the manacles open waiting to receive his prisoners. 
Seizing her wrist in a cruel grip that made her cry 
out, Ron pulled Fiona's right arm up into the air and 
quickly snapped a manacle in place. Within moments, he 
had her other wrist pinioned and a manacle around both 
ankles. 

"You bastard", Fiona screamed at him. "Let me go. I'll 
kill you!"

"No chance, Red," Ron laughed, grabbing the terrified 
Astrid.

In less than three minutes he had all four girls 
secured and helpless. He looked at them weeping and 
frightened, and still found it hard to believe that he 
had actually pulled it off. It just went to show what 
could be achieved with research and military-style 
planning. He removed all their wristwatches and, 
locking both doors behind him, went back to his own 
area to remove his disguise. There was no way that, if 
he went on with his plan, they wouldn't see him 
without the padding and lifts so no point in 
continuing with them. He removed the wig and fake 
moustache, cleaned off the "tan" and slipped into a 
pair of jeans and a plain black T-shirt. He then 
returned to the room, carefully locking the doors 
again behind him.

The room had fallen silent as he entered. He walked 
across to Jenny, the youngest and removed her 
blindfold. She blinked under the harsh glare of the 
lighting, as did the others when, one by one, he 
removed their eye-covering.

Fiona was the first to recover.

"Who are you and what do you want?" she demanded.

"You don't know?" he asked.

"How should I? 

"Because we've met before and you fucking insulted 
me."

"You must be mistaken. I've never seen you before."

"Well, I'll let you think about it because you, Red, 
are the reason you're all here."

She looked genuinely puzzled by this.

"Look, I honestly don't remember," she said "but if I 
insulted you, I'm truly sorry. Now, please let us go."

"No way, Red." Ron grinned. "You're here until I've 
finished with you. All of you are."

Fiona was still not about to back down.

"You won't get away with this," she sneered. 

"You think not? Why is that?"

"We'll already have been missed and they will have 
started looking for us."

"Maybe. But they won't find you, because, you see, 
they aren't looking for me."

Fiona thought about that and was shaken to realise 
that Ron was right. They didn't know who he was or 
where they were. They were shackled and helpless. If 
no one knew who this maniac was, there was little 
chance of tracking them. She tried another tack.
"If you let us go now, take us back and drop us 
somewhere, you can get away and we won't tell the 
police anything about you."

"Do you think I'm fucking stupid or something?" Ron 
shouted. "I think it's time you learned the rules. 
Time you all learned the rules. I'll tell you all just 
once. You'll not speak unless I ask you a direct 
question. When I do, you will answer me truthfully and 
call me sir. If any one of you disobeys me, or I find 
that you are lying about anything ...anything at all, 
I will take it out on one of the others. In other 
words, you piss me off and one of your friends will 
pay the price." 

He stuck his face six inches away from Fiona's. 

"Do you get it?" he hissed.

She recoiled from his closeness, glared at him for a 
moment, challenging his eyes but he waited her out. In 
the end, she muttered a sullen "yes".

"What did you say?" Ron screamed.

"Yes... sir," she said quietly.

"That's better." He walked up and down the line. "As 
to what I want, whatever it is, I will certainly get 
it. Now let's get started."

He produced a box-cutter from his pocket and slid open 
the razor-sharp blade. Sarah screamed as he came 
towards them.

"You can scream as much as you like. No one will hear 
you," he said.

Walking up to Jenny, he saw her cower back against the 
wall. He ignored her and grabbed one of the shoulder 
straps of her back-back, slicing cleanly through it. 
The other strap followed and her back-pack dropped to 
the floor. He stepped sideways to Sarah, then Astrid 
and finally Fiona and soon had all four back-packs in 
a pile in the middle of the room. He emptied their 
contents onto the floor. Four cell phones were in the 
heap.

"You won't be needing these," he said and carefully 
switched each of them off. He put them all into one of 
the packs together with the remaining personal 
belongings and placed it by the door to take away with 
him when he left.

"Right, I'm going to ask you some questions. Remember, 
I want truthful answers from each of you or one of 
your friends will pay."

He stepped in front of Astrid.

"Okay, Blondie, what is your name?"

"Astrid," she murmured.

Ron turned and slapped Sarah sharply across the face. 
The girls all screamed and tears sprang to Sarah's 
eyes.

"I've only just finished telling you the rules and 
already you've forgotten them. Let's try again, shall 
we? What is your name, Blondie?"

"Astrid, s-s-s-sir," she stammered.

"That's better. Last name?"

"Johannsen, sir."

"That's right, and you live at 922 Whittaker Drive, 
Lemon Grove, right?"

Astrid gave an audible gasp.

"Yes, sir," she said.

"You see, girls, I know a lot about you, so lying to 
me would not be a good idea."

He could see that the girls were shocked. They had 
discovered in a flash that this was not some random 
abduction but a targeted one, which lent some 
credibility to his claim that they had met him before 
and he had been insulted by them. The moment had come 
that he had dreamed of during all the preparation. Let 
the humiliation begin.

"So, Astrid Johannsen, describe your body to me."

She stared at him open-mouthed.

"Describe my body...err... sir?"

"That's right. Describe your body."

"Err, well, I'm blonde, with blue eyes, 5' 3" tall, 
110 pounds and medium build, sir."

"Yes, I can see all that. I want you to describe the 
bits I can't see."

Astrid turned scarlet at the thought and didn't know 
what to say. The silence hung heavily. Ron gave her a 
cold stare.

"If you don't want me to start beating up on one of 
your friends, I suggest you start talking," he rasped.

Astrid swallowed hard.

"Er, well, I have a 24 inch waist and 34 inch hips 
sir."

"What about your tits, Astrid?"

Astrid started crying.

"I'm a 34, sir."

"A, B, C? What?

"B, sir."

"Long nipples? Big areolae? Come on, girl, tell me."

Astrid was sobbing in earnest, her chin pulled in to 
her chest..

"Ordinary nipples, sir with medium areolae."

"Colour?"

"Light brown, sir."

'What about your pussy? You are a genuine blonde, 
aren't you?

"Yes, sir."

"Do you shave it?"

He heard her gasp before she answered.

"Yes, sir."

"And are you still a virgin, Astrid? The truth now."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir, what?"

She looked up at him.

"Yes, sir, I'm still a virgin."

Ron smiled.

"Thank you, Astrid. Oh, you're fifteen, right?"

She nodded. He let it go and moved to Jenny.

"And you're how old Jenny?"

"Fourteen, sir," she answered shyly.

"Well, you know the drill, sweetheart. Never mind the 
height and weight bit. Tell me about your body in full 
detail. Tits first"

"I'm quite small, sir. Only 32 inches and an A cup. 
Small areolas but quite long nipples. I've brown pubic 
hair and I don't shave... sir."

"Very good, Jenny. And I really hope that you're still 
a virgin."

"Yes, sir. I am, sir."

"Your turn, Sarah. Don't be shy."

"36 inch breasts, sir."

"Tits, Sarah. Say tits."

"36 inch tits, sir, C cup. Large brown areolae and 
normal length nipples. Brown pubic hair with a bikini 
trim and I'm still a virgin, sir."

"Right, Red. You're on."

He looked at her and saw defiance in her attitude.

"My name's Fiona, sir, not Red. I have 34 inch, A cup 
brea... err... tits, with medium sized pink areolae 
and long nipples. I have red pubic hair which I 
sometimes shave... sir."

"You a virgin too, Red?"

"Yes, sir"

Ron looked at his collection with pride.

"There," he said. "That wasn't so hard. I trust that 
you all told me the truth. Did you?"

"Yes, sir," they chorused

"Good, then you won't mind my checking the details, 
will you?"

There was a collective gasp of disbelief.

"You didn't really think I would take all that on 
trust did you?"

He picked up the box-cutter again and studied the four 
of them. Astrid made the mistake of meeting his eye. 
He moved in front of her, bent down and quickly 
removed her runners and sport socks. Then he grabbed 
her sweat suit top at the neckline. Sliding the knife 
blade inside, he slit the top all the way down and 
through the elasticised bottom. Under the top, she 
wore a white blouse over a white bra. She gasped in 
fear as she realised what he intended to do.

"Please, don't, sir" she whispered.

Ron stopped and looked at her.

"Did I ask you a question?" he demanded.

"No, sir," she whimpered.

"Then someone else will be punished for your 
disobedience when I'm ready to punish them."

Astrid fell to sobbing again but remained silent as, 
unperturbed, Ron sliced up through the sleeves and 
across the shoulders of the top before pulling the 
remains away and dropping the shredded garment on the 
floor behind him. The sweat pants came next. The blade 
sliced cleanly through the cotton of one leg, up and 
through the waistband. The other leg followed leaving 
Astrid wearing just a white thong below the waist. 

"Nice camel-toe there, Doll," Ron grinned, and felt 
himself getting hard.

A blush suffused Astrid's whole body as she saw the 
bulge in his trousers and Ron moved his attention to 
the blouse. He simply grabbed the lapels and ripped 
the front open, popping buttons across the floor as he 
did so. Astrid shrieked but Ron just continued cutting 
up the sleeves and through the shoulders. The blouse 
then joined the growing pile of rags on the floor.

"Now we're getting to the good stuff," Ron said. "What 
was it? 34B with medium-sized brown areolae and 
average nipples." 

The blade sliced through one shoulder strap, then the 
other. 

"Here we go then," Ron smirked and slid the knife 
through the cotton webbing in the centre of the bra. 
One quick slice and the bra sprang apart, falling to 
the floor. There was enough slack in the chains 
holding her wrists for Astrid to try and cover her 
bared breasts but Ron grabbed her wrists and pulled 
her hands away.

"Let me look at those babies and see if you told the 
truth."

Astrid's face was scarlet as she saw him staring 
lustfully at her.

"Yep, I'd say that 34B looks about right and the 
areolae are medium sized and brown. Now let's check 
those nipples."

He reached out with one hand and rolled one of 
Astrid's nipples between his fingers. It took a moment 
or two before he felt the flesh stiffen under his 
touch and he moved to the other one, switching back 
and forth until both had grown stiff and erect.

He, too, was stiff and erect as he stood gazing at the 
sobbing, blushing girl.

"Just a couple of things left to check," he said.

Taking the knife, he slit the thong on both sides and 
pulled it away. Astrid pushed her buttocks backwards, 
clamped her legs tightly together and hunched forward 
but her naked mound was clearly visible with the 
straight line of her labia leading to her still 
sheathed vagina. Ron stood soaking up the view. She 
was very pretty as she stood cowering under his gaze. 
Stepping forward, he ran his finger down her slit. She 
moaned with shame as his finger ran up and down, 
finding and caressing her clit, and waiting patiently 
until she began to lubricate and her outer lips began 
to swell. His probing finger sought and found her 
dampened opening and she moaned again as he moved his 
finger around, exploring, twisting, sliding until it 
came up against her hymen where it paused, and then 
withdrew.

"What do you know! A genuine virgin," Ron chortled.

The other girls did not know where to look, each 
afraid that if they drew his attention, they would be 
next although they all understood, in their hearts, 
that it would be them sooner or later if the police 
didn't find them quickly. They were also fearful of 
what else he might be planning for them. Astrid still 
had her legs clamped, trying to hide her sex. This 
angered Ron. He grabbed her arm, took the keys from 
his pocket and disconnected the long chain from the 
manacle. 

Dragging her arm upwards roughly, he reattached the 
short piece of chain on the manacle directly to the 
eye-hook. The other arm followed. Astrid struggled a 
little as he grabbed her ankle but she did not have 
the strength to resist him and within moments one leg 
was secured by the short chain, then the second, and 
she was standing spread-eagled with every part of her 
body visible and accessible to him. At that moment, 
she would have been happy to die. Ron saw the fear and 
shame in her and it turned him on even more. He rubbed 
his hand over the bulge in his trousers. 

"Astrid, do you ever play with your pussy?"

Her head shot up and her mouth opened, but no words 
came out.

"Answer me, girl."

"Y-yes, sir," she finally stammered.

"Do you come?"

"Some... sometimes, sir."

"Good." 

Ron ran his hands over her breasts and played with her 
nipples again until they were hard.

"Does that feel good?" he demanded.

"No, sir. Please don't."

Ron laughed out loud.n "I give you points for honesty 
anyway," he said. "So who's next?"

Jenny, Sarah and Fiona were looking anywhere but at 
him. He studied them and felt instinctively that Sarah 
was the most scared. Jenny, her younger sister was 
afraid, certainly, but had watched what he was doing 
with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Red, as he was 
deliberately choosing to call her, was still defiant. 
Time for another lesson in control. The heavy wooden 
upright chair with eye bolts into the front legs and 
the back seat rail was standing in a corner of the 
room. He dragged it to the centre of the space facing 
the girls but about eight feet away from them.

He walked over to Jenny who looked him steadily in the 
eye while he disconnected the long chains from all 
four of her manacles, leaving her standing free with 
just the four cuffs attached to her wrists and ankles. 
He could see that she was weighing up her chances.

"Don't even think about it, kid. Both doors are 
locked."

She shrugged and allowed him to lead her to the chair.

"Sit down," he ordered.

She sat. He attached her hands to the rail behind her 
and her ankles to the chair legs. The pistol was 
jammed into his back pocket and he pulled it out and 
faced the other girls.

"Listen carefully to what I tell you. Do as I say and 
the kid won't be hurt, but I won't hesitate to use 
this if I have to. Understand?"

A chorus of sullen "yes sirs" came from the remaining 
trio.

"Red, I am going to un-cuff one of your arms and give 
you the key. You will un-cuff yourself and Sarah, 
leaving the manacles open. Then you will both stand by 
your cuffs. I will be standing behind the kid here, 
watching your every move."

He undid Fiona's right arm and gave her the key. He 
stood back behind the chair. Fiona managed to free 
herself and then Sarah, who was trembling visibly. 

"What's the problem, Mouse? Are you shy?" he barked.

"Yes, sir" she said with a quaver in her voice.

"You don't want me to undress you?"

"No, sir."

"Then I won't."

He saw disbelief and relief flood over her.

"Thank you, sir," she said.

"No problem." He paused for a moment. "Big Red is 
going to do it for me."

Like Astrid before her, Sarah burst into tears. He saw 
a look of surprise and then hatred pass over Fiona's 
face.

"Step forward two paces, Mouse."

Knees shaking, Sarah did as he asked.

"Okay, Red, kneel beside her and take off her runners 
and socks."

For one moment, he thought she was going to defy him 
so he grabbed Jenny's hair and jerked her head back. 
Jenny grunted, more with surprise than pain but it had 
the desired effect. Fiona immediately knelt beside 
Sarah and started unlacing her shoes, pulling them off 
and peeling her socks.

"Toss them on the pile and then stand beside her," Ron 
directed.

Fiona gathered up the discarded shoes and socks and 
lobbed them onto the growing pile. She then took up 
her new position.

"Raise you arms, straight up in the air, Mouse"

The arms went up.

"You may now remove her top, Red."

Fiona grabbed the bottom hem of the sweat top front 
and back and pulled it up over Sarah's head and clear 
of her arms. Again, Ron saw a white blouse over a 
white bra.

"Toss it," Ron ordered, nodding at the sweat top in 
Fiona's hands. Fiona complied.

Sarah was sniffing loudly, tears continuing to flow.

"Stand behind her," Ron instructed and Fiona moved to 
obey.

"Pants," said Ron.

Fiona took the waist band in her hands,

"Slowly, now. I want to enjoy this moment," he added.

Fiona slowly began to pull Sarah's sweats down as 
Sarah, mortified, stared up at the ceiling.

"Look at me, Mouse. I want you to see me discovering 
your body."

A look of pure hatred crossed Fiona's face as the 
terrified girl in front of her forced herself to meet 
Ron's lewd gaze.

The sweats eased down and a pair of pink cotton 
panties came into view, then long, shapely legs. Fiona 
pulled the sweats off Sarah's feet and, without 
waiting to be told, tossed them into the middle.

"Very nice," purred Ron. "Now then, Mouse, hold your 
arms out sideways and, Red, you stand behind her, 
reach round her and start undoing her blouse - and 
don't spoil my view. Nice and easy, though. Tease me a 
little."

From behind, Fiona slipped her arms round Sarah and 
started to slowly undoing buttons, starting at the 
bottom. 

One... two... bare midriff showing.. three... more 
bare skin... four... the webbing of the bra now 
appearing... five... cleavage between snowy white 
cotton cups... six... completely undone. Fiona slowly 
pulled the open blouse backwards and slipped it off 
Sarah's arms to join the discards.

Ron gazed happily at the two mounds of white flesh 
that were moulded by the bra cups and found that his 
throat was dry. Goddamn, this was the biggest turn-on 
of his life and it had barely started. 

"From what you say, you have the biggest tits of any 
girl here, Mouse. It's time to check it out. Take off 
her bra, Red."

A loud sob racked Sarah's body as Fiona slowly 
unclipped the bra, then slid the shoulder straps off 
Sarah's shoulders, down her arms and whisked it onto 
the pile. Ron breathed in deeply at the sight of two 
perfect hemispheres surmounted by large brown areolae 
with the nubbins of her nipples now revealed. 

Ron's prick was like a ramrod but he intended to take 
his time in doing anything about it. His release would 
be all the sweeter for exercising control. Sarah saw 
his covetous eyes drinking in her naked breasts and 
desperately wanted to cover herself but dare not do so 
for risk of causing punishment to her friends. 

"I think I would like to see those nipples erect." Ron 
said. "Red, fondle her and get them standing up."

Fiona balked at this command but Ron gave a vicious 
tug on Jenny's hair which caused her to yelp with pain 
and Fiona knew that she had no choice. Sarah's face 
turned white as Fiona reached round and cupped her 
breasts.

"That's it. Squeeze them."

Fiona began to squeeze gently.

"Roll her nipples between your fingers."

Fiona obeyed and Sarah chewed her lip as the rhythm of 
Fiona's fingers caused her nipples to stiffen a 
little.

"Keep going."

Now, Sarah's nipples were hard as diamonds and the 
areolae began to swell as well.

"Fuck me," said Ron, delighted. "Puffies!!"

He watched for a few more moments.

"Okay, enough for now. Get those fucking panties off 
her."

Fiona bent and slowly drew down the pink cotton, 
revealing a neatly trimmed pubic bush above Sarah's 
slit. Sarah had stopped crying. She felt numb at what 
was happening. Ron saw the chance for another shock to 
group.

"Okay, you two. Face each other sideways on to me."

They took up the position.

"Now I want you to kiss each other. And I mean a 
proper, long, deep kiss with tongue. Red put your 
hands on her hips and you, Mouse, put your arms around 
Red's neck. Right, now kiss."

He watched eagerly as the two faces moved together and 
Fiona pressed her lips reluctantly against Sarah's.

"Red, put your hands on her butt and pull her in tight 
to your body. Rub your hands up and down on her ass 
and grind your pussies together."

Fiona forced herself to comply and felt the first 
quickening of arousal as Sarah's bare breasts rubbed 
against her and their pubic areas came into contact. 
But Ron was becoming impatient.

"That's enough. Red, take the key and remove the long 
chains from Sarah's eye-hooks. Drop them on the 
floor."

When she had done so he instructed her to secure Sarah 
in the spread-eagled position facing him and then to 
secure her own ankles with the manacles but leaving 
the long chains in place. Once she had done so, he 
quickly re-secured her wrists. Now she was the only 
one with any freedom of movement. He took back the 
key.

"Time for pussy inspection, Sarah," he said.

He took his time, enjoying the sight of her, breasts 
heaving, nipples standing out on the swollen areolae, 
legs spread wide, her neatly trimmed bush terminating 
immediately above the outer lips of her pussy.

Stepping purposefully forward, he leaned forward and 
took one of her nipples in his mouth, flicking it with 
his tongue and sucking hard. His teeth gripped her 
breast and he pulled gently. Sarah whimpered and he 
turned his head to stare up into her eyes. She went 
quiet. He stood upright, then ran his finger from her 
chin slowly down her neck, down the valley between her 
breasts and across her stomach, which shuddered at his 
touch. 

His finger moved on and threaded its way through the 
wiry brown thatch and she crushed her buttocks against 
the wall as if that could stop his progress. But the 
probing finger now sought and found her clit. He 
rolled it, rubbed it and fingered it. Her clit began 
to swell and she felt moisture beginning to form 
between her legs. 

Excited by his success, Ron rubbed her more vigorously 
and to Sarah's horror, her body began to move in 
response. He was turning her on. He continued working 
on the clit until she was positively wet and then his 
finger moved on down. She struggled against the 
restraints and moaned "No!!" loudly but he would not 
be deterred. He found her vagina all ready to receive 
him and slid his finger into the opening. Sarah rose 
on tip-toe as if trying to climb off the intruding 
digit but he kept sliding it deeper and deeper... no 
restraining barrier hindering him. He stopped, 
withdrew his finger and stepped back, looking her 
squarely in the eye.

"You lied to me."

Sarah blushed deeply and refused to meet his gaze. 
Jenny was looking at her sister with a puzzled look on 
her face.

"You told me you were a virgin, but someone's already 
busted your cherry."

Sarah hung her head and Jennie gasped in surprise. 
Astrid and Fiona looked equally amazed.

"You'd better start talking and it had better be the 
truth. As it is, you've already made sure that one of 
your friends will suffer for your lie."

"Please, no, sir. Don't punish the others. It's my 
fault, not theirs."

"You should have thought of that before you lied to 
me. Now tell me, who and when?"

"Earlier this summer, when we were staying at my 
cousin's home...sir"

"That's when. Who?"

"My cousin Brad, sir."

He say Jenny's jaw drop.

"Tell me."

"He's seventeen, sir. Jenny and the rest of the family 
were out at the mall but I had stayed behind because I 
wasn't feeling well. Brad offered to let me use his 
computer to answer my e-mail."

"And where was "Brad's" computer ?"

"It was in his bedroom, sir."

"In his bedroom!" said Ron sarcastically. "What 
happened?" 

"While we were in there, he started kissing me, sir."

"And you let him."

"Yes, sir."

"And you let him cop a feel I suppose."

"Yes, sir."

"And then you fucked him."

"No, sir... I mean, yes, sir, but it was only the 
once, sir, I promise."

All this was clearly news to the other three girls who 
all stared in disbelief, especially Jenny. Ron saw the 
look on Sarah's face.

"Sarah, you're a lying little bitch. You weren't 
feeling sick. You stayed home deliberately because you 
were pretty sure that dirty cousin Brad would come on 
to you. That's the truth, isn't it?"

Sarah hung her head as the other three girls stared at 
her, waiting for her answer.

"Yes, sir," she whispered after a long pause.

Jenny shook her head in disbelief. Ron turned to her.

"So, kid, you're sister's a whore. How about you?"

Jenny was clearly alarmed by this turn of events. She 
shook her head vigorously.

"No, sir. I give you my word, sir."

"We'll find out soon enough when I punish you for your 
sister's lies." Ron smirked.

Fiona straightened and glared at him.

"Leave her alone. She's only fourteen. Take me 
instead."

Ron knew that this was a challenge that had to be 
nipped in the bud at once or his control would begin 
to slip away. He stood in front of her.

"Take you instead, eh?"

Fiona nodded.

"Oh, make no mistake, Red, I shall take you whenever 
and in whichever orifice I want to and as often as I 
like, but ...'instead'? No, I don't think so. I have 
very special plans for you."

Without warning, he turned and slapped Astrid across 
the face again and she slammed back against the wall. 
The blow however had been intended to shock more than 
hurt. He didn't want to damage the goods just yet.

"That was for forgetting to call me 'Sir,'" he told 
Fiona.

He walked back to the chair and started to release 
Jenny from her restraints.

"Stand up," he ordered and she stood awkwardly, 
rubbing at her wrists to restore her circulation. He 
waited and after a few moments, she just stood still 
looking back at him. Next to Fiona, she was the 
prettiest, he decided. So young, sweet and innocent. 

For a moment, he almost felt sorry for her and then he 
recalled the laughter that had followed Fiona's 
calling him and old perv, in which she had also 
joined. He immediately dismissed any feelings of 
sympathy and considered what he might do. He could 
feel his penis stiffening just imagining what was to 
follow.

"So... Jenny..."

"Yes, sir?"

"Have you ever let a grown man see you naked?"

"NO SIR!!" she said loudly.

"Well, there's first time for everything. Ever let a 
boyfriend touch you up?"

"I don't have a boy-friend, sir."

"Ever given a boy a blow-job?"

"No, sir."

"Do you masturbate, Jenny?"

He saw her hesitate for the first time.

"Why, Jenny, you little slut. You do, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," she said, blushing. "I think so."

"What do you mean, you think so?"

"Well, sir, I sometimes touch myself but nothing much 
happens."

"Get your sister to give you lessons," he snarled.

She looked down at her feet. He pointed to a place 
about half way between him and the other girls.

"Stand there, Jenny."

She moved to the spot.

"Have you ever seen a strip-teaser?"

"Only in a movie once, sir."

"But you know what they do."

"Yes, sir."

"Good... because that is what you are going do, or 
would you rather I chained you up and cut off your 
clothes like I did to Blondie."

"No, sir. I wouldn't"

"Right. So strip and tease."

"I'll try, sir"

"That's what I like to hear. Get on with it then."

Jenny had no real idea of what she was doing but she 
knew she had to do something or someone else... 
probably Sarah... would be made to suffer. She started 
shuffling her feet and moving her hips from side to 
side. She twirled around in a circle and was rewarded 
with a nod of approval. She tried a couple of 
tentative dance steps and waved her arms over her 
head, then repeated the cycle a couple of times. Ron 
was becoming more aroused by the moment. She was 
slender as a willow but she had the coltish grace that 
made up for her lack of expertise. Her complexion was 
as clear and as fresh as anyone could wish and she 
went in and out in all the right places.

Jenny was running out of ideas and decided that she 
could not delay the inevitable much longer. She turned 
her back to him and pulled her sweat top off over her 
head. Holding it by one sleeve, she whirled it around 
above her head as she turned back to face him. 

Two more whirls and she let it go. It flew through the 
air and landed on the pile with the other clothes. Ron 
realised that white blouses and white bras must be 
part of a sort of school uniform. His eyes were 
riveted to her small mounds encased by the white cups 
that grinned through the outer garment. There was no 
soft bouncing of flesh as there had been with her 
sister. Either Jenny's little breasts were fake or 
they were delightfully firm.

He licked his lips as she continued swaying her hips 
from side to side and started to unbutton her blouse. 
He had expected her to be in tears but she was 
"dancing" with a steely determination not to weep in 
front of him. He admired her grit. She was worth two 
of her sister but he was still determined to break 
her. She had the second button undone now and the bra 
top was visible together with the merest suggestion of 
cleavage. His hand clasped his prick through his jeans 
and he rubbed it gently,

Jenny saw his bulge and was torn between revulsion and 
fascination. She hated what she was being forced to do 
but, at the same time, felt a secret thrill as she 
realised for the first time ever that she had the 
power to excite a fully adult male. She had told the 
truth when she said that had never let a man see her 
naked but, by the same token, she had never seen a 
naked adult man either. She danced on and undid the 
third button, then the fourth, then the fifth. Ron was 
already in ecstasy. Her skin was like fine white china 
and he saw that her stomach was as flat as a board. He 
found that he had been holding his breath as she 
tossed the blouse aside, and he breathed deeply as his 
heart raced in his chest.

Jenny suddenly realised that there was no elegant way 
to shed her runners and socks. With a shrug, she 
simply sat on the floor and removed them, then stood 
up again and resumed the sensual swaying of her hips. 
Ron grinned in spite of himself at her artlessness. 
Her hands went to the waistband of the pants and, very 
slowly, she started to ease them down. Just as the top 
of her underwear was beginning to show, she turned her 
back to him. She continued to push the waistband lower 
to reveal that she, too, was wearing a thong... a 
black one.

"Sexy," said Ron appreciatively, not actually having 
intended to say it out loud.

Jenny pulled the pants to her knees, bent forward and 
wiggled her bum. It was a delicious bum too. Two 
beautifully rounded hemispheres above gently tapering 
thighs. The black strap of the thong disappeared into 
the crack between her cheeks, barely masking her anus 
until it became a black triangle covering her sex. She 
let go of the waistband and wiggled again until the 
pants collected in a heap at her ankles. Turning back 
to face him, she lifted her right foot and trapped the 
fabric of the left leg under it. Then she raised her 
left leg until she had pulled her foot out and clear 
of the elasticised bottom of the leg. She reversed the 
process and kicked the discarded pants away from her.

Ron could feel pre-cum dampening his underwear and 
knew that it would take very little to make him shoot 
his load but he could not, would not stop her now. He 
forced himself to quit rubbing his cock and set his 
face in a mask. Jenny saw him remove his hand from the 
bulge in his pants and wondered if he was disappointed 
in her childish (as she saw it) body. She danced on, 
and slipped one of her bra straps off her shoulder. 
The other followed a moment later. 

She faced him and bent forward. The top of the bra, 
unrestrained now by straps, gapped a little and Ron 
was treated to the sight of the outwardly curving 
flesh of her small breasts almost, but not quite, 
showing her nipples. She straightened again, reaching 
behind her to find the clasp. 

She undid it and held the freed cups to her. Slowly, 
she drew the cups down until a hint of pink showed at 
the tips of her breasts, then pulled it up again. 

Twice more she did it and Ron was right on the edge. 
With a quick flick of her hand, the bra went spinning 
away and she stood with her hands on her hips as he 
stared at her two tiny, pointed, up-tilted breasts 
with small pink circles at their tips in the centre of 
which were delicious little nubbins. He judged that he 
could just about take her whole breast into his mouth 
and knew that he would before he was through with her. 
They were small but they were perfect. He reached out 
to fondle one but she danced back just out of reach 
and started swaying again as her hands went to the 
thong. 

Again, she started to pull it down half an inch at a 
time, then just as the first wisp of hair started to 
show, turned her back, bent over a little and 
continued to pull the thong down, this time quickly. 
Without bending her knees she touched her toes and 
stepped out of her last piece of clothing. Ron just 
caught a glimpse of the brown ring of her anus before 
she straightened back up, placed her hands over her 
pubes and turned to face him. As if reading his mind, 
she slowly spread her legs about two feet apart and 
waited several long seconds before placing her hands 
back on her hips.

The flat planes of her stomach led down to a small 
triangle of soft, silky light brown hair above the 
thin line of her crotch. There was something brazen in 
her posture but Ron was also aware of the frightened 
child within

"Stay just like that," he ordered. 

She stood stock still. He went to her and without any 
preamble, grabbed her by the throat with his left 
hand, lifting her on to her toes, while he pushed his 
right index finger between her dry pussy lips and 
located her vagina. Gasping and choking with fear, she 
grabbed his wrist to ease his grip on her throat as 
she felt his finger jam up against her tight passage, 
moving brutally against her hymen.

Ron pulled his finger away, let her go and she stepped 
back, gasping in air before collapsing to the ground, 
finally in tears. Ron looked over at Fiona.

"Two virgins and one slut. Sticking to your story are 
you, Red?"

Fiona was so angry and frightened by his brutality 
that she could barely speak. Finally, she managed to 
spit out 

"Yes...sir."

Ron glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that 
it was almost 4:30, Time goes quickly, etc... he 
thought. He stood looking down at Jenny then his gaze 
swept over the other girls. Sarah and Astrid were 
still spread-eagled but Fiona was still fully clothed 
and in the less restrictive restraints. 

"Listen carefully" he barked. "You will have seen that 
there are shower stalls and toilets on the far side of 
the room. One at a time, you will go over and use the 
toilet, then take a shower.

"When you have done that, I am going to secure one arm 
only by the long chains to one of the lower eye-bolts. 
I will then give you food, a sleeping bag each and a 
pillow. Tomorrow, we will carry on where we left off, 
starting with some punishments."

He turned to Fiona. "As for you, Red. No shower. You 
can use the toilet but then you go back into your 
restraint. I am saving you up for something special."

He turned back to Jenny.

"Okay, kid. Move!"

She got to her feet and stumbled over to the toilet. 
He waited while she peed and then watched as she 
started the shower, adjusted the temperature and stood 
under it. She found the soap and shampoo he had left 
there and began to wash herself vigorously as though 
to rid herself of him and his touch. He left her to 
it, pulled four sleeping bags and pillows out of the 
lockers and dumped them on the floor at the girls' 
feet. Then he set about attaching one of Jenny's 
discarded manacles to one of the lower eye-bolts using 
the longer chain.

As Jenny finished showering and towelling herself off, 
he led her back and told her to sit on one of the 
sleeping bags. She saw what he planned and spread the 
bag out so that, when the time came, she could slide 
into it leaving just the pinioned arm outside. Then 
she placed the pillow like a cushion and sat cross-
legged. Ron secured the one long chain to her wrist 
and then took a moment to enjoy the sight of her 
freshly scrubbed body and to breathe in up the 
lingering aroma of the lightly scented soap and 
shampoo that he had purchased for them.

He released Sarah next, then Astrid, and - thirty 
minutes later - they were both seated, clean and damp-
haired, beside Jenny. As he set about releasing Fiona, 
he saw her watching his every move and sensed that she 
was looking for any opportunity to get a jump on him. 
He had no doubt that he could out-muscle her but saw 
that she was smart enough not to attempt escape by 
force but would use guile. If there was going to be 
trouble, this was the quarter from which it would come 
but, God, she was worth it. Jenny was a delicious, 
mouth-watering temptation but Fiona was already all 
woman, stunningly beautiful and with a body to die 
for. 

He recalled that, as a child, he would save his 
favourite candy or food item for last because the 
anticipation of the taste-treat to come was at least 
half the enjoyment and she was going to be the best 
treat of his life. That's why he didn't want her to 
shower. Seeing any woman, especially her, naked for 
the very first time was the real thrill and he wanted 
to linger over the pleasure of her being forced to 
reveal herself to him... so very much against her 
will. Besides which, he was sated for the moment. He 
would save her for tomorrow, or perhaps the day after; 
make his pleasure last. Discipline. It was all a 
matter of self-discipline. As she waited, her anger 
would grow and he wanted her defiant because it would 
increase his satisfaction when he broke her... and 
break her he would.

The minute he had released her, he sprang back and 
pulled the pistol from his pocket. He stood beside 
Jenny and pointed it at her kneecap.

"Right, Red... go pee and poop or whatever you have to 
do. You can wash your hands but then come straight 
back here or Jenny here is going to be minus a 
kneecap."

Fiona gave him a look that told him that she was ready 
to kill him if she got the chance but she went into 
the toilet and shut the door with a bang. He listened 
as she peed and wiped herself, then flushed. She came 
out, washed her hands and splashed water on her face.

"Back you come," he called.

She took her time but she came and submitted to having 
her wrist chained to the bottom eye-bolt before 
sitting like the others.

"I'll be back in thirty minutes with some food after 
which it will be lights out," Ron told them. He 
stalked out, carefully locking both doors and scooted 
back to the kitchen, quickly switching on the 
amplifier into which the microphone was plugged and 
listening to the speaker to catch what the girls were 
saying. 

As he would have bet money on, it was Red who was 
leading the conversation. There was great speculation 
about who he was and what he wanted and why was he 
doing this to them. Sarah reminded Fiona that he had 
singled her out as being the prime cause for their 
abduction and asked her to think hard and try to 
remember anything that might give them a clue but she 
said that she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Well, you'll remember and be sorry soon enough," Ron 
thought.

He switched on the radio to catch the main news at 6 
p.m. The girls having gone missing in the storm was 
the lead story and he learned one piece of information 
that he was missing, the sisters' surname - which was 
Franklin. It was clear that the police had no leads 
whatsoever and were appealing to anyone who could help 
locate the girls to contact them. There was no 
specific suggestion yet that foul play might be 
involved, the tropical storm having caused major 
interruptions to communications in the area but there 
was definitely alarm that they had not phoned anyone 
but simply disappeared without a trace.

Well satisfied, Ron switched off the radio, turned up 
the room monitor and set about micro-waving some pre-
packaged meals. He also grabbed four bottles of water 
and took them back to the holding room. The girls fell 
silent as he entered and passed out the meals. As they 
began to eat, he took a galvanised bucket and a roll 
of toilet paper from one of the lockers and brought it 
over to them.

"If you need a toilet during the night, this is it. 
I'll leave a work-light on overnight and I'll check on 
you through the window from time to time. I suggest 
that, when you have eaten, you get some sleep. I've a 
lot planned for tomorrow."

Back in the kitchen, he checked his watch again. It 
was 6.45 in the evening. He ate his own micro-waved 
dinner, had some fresh fruit and a beer and then set 
his alarm for 1.00 a.m. He heard the girls talking in 
muted tones but was soon sound asleep. As soon as the 
clock alarm sounded, he got up, pressed the start 
button on the coffee machine, cooked four eggs and 
four rounds of breakfast sausage, toasted and buttered 
four English muffins, slapped a slice of processed 
cheese, sausage and an egg in each and poured four 
styrene cups of coffee, placing his version of 
breakfast on a large metal tray. He put a pint carton 
of milk on it and a plastic container of sugar with 
one plastic teaspoon. Satisfied, he walked down the 
mezzanine, opened the first door, locked it behind 
him, switched on the fluorescents in the room and went 
in through the second door just as the girls were 
waking, bleary-eyed and blinking at the light.

"Morning, girls. It's a beautiful day out there. I 
hope you slept well," he said cheerily, placing the 
tray on the floor just outside their reach and 
distributing "breakfast". I'll be back in ten minutes 
and we can get on." He picked up the tray and left the 
room. It was just 1.30 a.m. He glanced back through 
the glass and could see the girls looking slightly 
puzzled.

"Good", he thought. "Keep them sleep-deprived and 
they'll lose some of their fight."

His days in the Navy had taught him to stay fresh on 
short naps during exercises when sleep was regulated 
by outgoing and returning sorties. He could keep this 
up for days but he doubted that growing teens could. 
With no windows in their detention area, they had no 
sense of day or night other than that which he 
imposed. 

*

Ten minutes later, he returned to the room. Fiona had 
finished her meal but the other breakfasts were only 
partially eaten. He gathered up the debris, placing it 
on the metal tray which he took out of the room. When 
he got back, Fiona raised her hand.

He smiled. "Yes, Red. I take it you want permission to 
speak."

She nodded.

"Very well. What is it?"

"How long are you planning to keep us here? If it's 
money you are after, I'm sure something could be 
arranged."

"You think you're so fucking clever, don't you?" he 
snarled. "I make a demand for money and the police get 
their first clue in helping to find you. But, you see, 
the thing is, Red, money is NOT what I'm after. What 
I'm after is giving you all a taste of the humiliation 
that you gave to me. As to how long I keep you, 
when... or if... I let you go is entirely up to me. 
One final thing, I didn't hear you call me 'sir' so, 
later, one of your friends will be punished."

He saw that she was about to protest but she managed 
to bite back her words.

"That's better," he said. "It's about time you learned 
to hold your tongue. Okay, all of you, fold up your 
sleeping bags."

They struggled to their knees and did as he ordered. 
One by one, he re-secured them as he had originally so 
that all four limbs were chained but they could move a 
little.

"I told you yesterday that disobedience or lying to me 
would bring punishment to one of your friends. Well, 
now's the time."

He turned to Sarah. "You lied to me by telling me you 
were still a virgin. I have decided that your little 
sister will be punished for your lie."

Sarah was horrified. She looked over at her sister 
with tears in her eyes as if to say sorry. For her 
part, Jenny was quaking but shook her head as if to 
say "It's okay". Again, Ron was secretly impressed by 
the kid's courage but it was time he started to get 
something more out of them. He produced the box-cutter 
from his pocket and slid out the blade. There was a 
collective gasp as the girls imagined the worst. He 
waited a moment and then spoke to Jenny.

"Provided you do exactly as I ask, kid, I'll not need 
to use this on one of the others. Understand?"

She nodded.

"Do you understand?" he said again.

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

He released her and stood her facing the girls, taking 
up a position behind her. She stood, naked and 
trembling, unable to see what he was planning. Ron was 
actually waiting for his own heart to stop hammering 
at the thought of having her at his mercy. He moved 
close against her and pushed his hands between her 
arms and body. He allowed himself a moment's 
anticipation before gently cupping her sweet little 
breasts. 

He heard her involuntary intake of breath but gave 
himself over to the sheer pleasure of handling flesh 
that was, at the same time, so firm and yet so 
yielding. He toyed with her nipples, squeezed her tits 
together and spread them apart then flattened them 
against her chest. His right hand moved down to her 
stomach and pushed her butt into his groin, holding 
her there as he ground himself against her. 

She felt the immediate effect that this was having on 
him and struggled to resist but this only made him 
harder still and, in seconds, he was rigid, his penis 
straining at his jeans and demanding satisfaction. He 
pulled her backwards and sat on the chair to which he 
had secured her earlier.

"Kneel in front of me," he commanded, releasing her. 

She did as he asked, looking up at him.

"Unzip me," he said.

She hesitated for a moment and he waved the box-cutter 
in front of her. She got the message and her hands 
moved to his bulging fly, fumbling with his zip. It 
was not easy but she managed at last to undo it. He 
raised his buttocks. 

"Pull them down...and the underpants."

Once again, with a little difficulty she eased his 
clothes down. As his underpants moved, they pulled his 
prick downwards until they cleared it, when it sprang 
back upright like a ramrod. Ron was not particularly 
large but this was the first time Jenny had ever seen 
a fully erect, circumcised male organ and the shock 
registered on her face. She sat back on her heels, 
caught again between fear and fascination.

"You said you'd never given a blow-job. Well now is 
your chance to learn. Lean over and take it in your 
hand, and don't mask the view from the others. They 
all need reminding who's in charge here."

Jenny shuffled a little sideways and he watched her 
face as she reached out and closed her fingers around 
his shaft. Instinctively, she started to move her hand 
up and down on him and he felt an immediate reaction 
deep in the pit of his stomach. He allowed her to 
continue for only a little while before ordering her 
to stop.

"Kiss it," he instructed.

He saw a flash of revulsion cross her face before she 
leaned in and placed her lips against the tip.

"Lick it... like a lollipop."

He felt her run her tongue over the head and pull 
back, licking her lips in surprise as she encountered 
the pre-cum that was forming.

"Take it into your mouth and suck it and keep sucking 
on it until I tell you to stop."

Jenny stood up and leaned over his lap. He looked at 
the three girls. As was predictable, Sarah was 
weeping, Astrid was looking pale but Fiona was 
studying him with a look of pure hatred.

He felt Jenny tentatively take the head of his 
throbbing dick into her mouth and give an experimental 
suck. He tensed and placed a hand gently on the back 
of her head pushing her open mouth further down the 
shaft, then letting go so that she slid back up. He 
repeated the move and she understood what he wanted. 
She started sliding her mouth up and down his dick and 
rubbing her tongue along the side as well. His body 
began to respond to her and he began to push up off 
the chair to meet her downward motion. 

He felt her teeth make contact with his skin and was 
just about to grab her hair, assuming that she was 
about to bite but she didn't. She let her teeth just 
graze lightly on his flesh as she continued to suck 
and bob up and down. This added a whole new layer of 
sensation to what was already becoming almost too 
much. This kid was a natural and might prove well 
worth taking the time to work on. 

By now, he could feel the surge rising in him as a 
wave of excitement built rapidly and moved from 
stomach to groin, then raced up his rampant prick. 
Without warning her, he exploded into her mouth and 
she swallowed in the blind panic of trying not to 
choke. He held her head fast as he continued to pump 
hot semen and she fought to keep up with his 
ejaculation. Finally, he was spent and he sank back 
into the chair, releasing her to collapse back on her 
haunches spluttering and coughing. Sperm dripped from 
her mouth onto her chin.

Ron looked down on her, rocked back on her heels.

"Not bad, kid. Not bad. Now back to the wall."

Meekly, she got to her feet, returned to her 
restraints and was quickly secured. Ron knew what he 
planned to do next but was going to need some time to 
recover before beginning. He pulled up his pants and 
stood in front of Fiona. Time to start working on her. 
One limb at a time, he removed the long chains and 
reset her in the fully spread-eagled position but 
still fully clothed. Then he stood back to admire her. 
Her green eyes blazed with anger. 

He ran his hand through her gorgeous copper hair, so 
soft to his touch, then grabbed her chin with his left 
hand so that she could not look away from him. He let 
his right hand drift down to find her breast and 
fondle it through the three layers of clothing she 
still wore. Her cheeks reddened but whether from anger 
or embarrassment he could neither tell, nor did he 
care. He massaged the yielding flesh.

"Don't," she hissed.

He ignored her and his hand moved between her legs, 
pressing against her as his finger sought to detect 
the line of her pussy. She struggled against the 
restraints but they would not yield.

"Like that, do you, Red?" he smirked.

"No," she spat.

"Ready to give yourself to me willingly?"


"Never."

Ron stood back and met her gaze.

"Let me tell you something, Red. Before you and I are 
through, you will plead with me to fuck you. 'Please 
sir,' you'll say, 'I beg you to fuck me'. Remember 
those words and you may yet get out of here. 'Please 
sir, I beg you to fuck me!'"

He moved to Sarah. 

"Did you enjoy seeing your sister punished for your 
lies?"

"No, sir."

"Rather I had punished you instead?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, because you are going to pay for Red's lack of 
respect."

She began trembling at what might follow. He moved the 
chair aside, walked over to the side wall and dragged 
the table front and centre, one of the narrow ends 
facing the girls. Releasing Sarah from the back wall, 
he grabbed the hair on top of her head and dragged her 
over to the table. 

"Bend over it," he ordered and she obeyed. He walked 
round to the far end of the table, grabbed the long 
chains attached to her wrist manacles and padlocked 
them to the eye-hooks on the front legs. There was 
still a couple of inches of slack as she stood with 
her legs pressed tightly together and her body bent 
over with her full breasts crushed against the table-
top.

Ron came back behind her, shortened the leg manacles 
and refastened them so that her legs were now spread 
wide, her body tightly stretched over the table edge 
and her anus and pussy fully displayed to the others. 
He walked back to where Sarah could see him and began 
to undress. Sarah had quickly discovered that she 
could not move and had given up trying. She could only 
watch with growing alarm as he continued to remove his 
clothes until he was completely naked.

"Let's talk a little bit about dirty cousin Brad, 
shall we, Sarah? Give your sister and your friends all 
the details that you've been keeping secret from them. 
Who started it, you or him?"

"He did, sir," she mumbled.

"Tell us."

"We were sitting on his bed, just talking about music, 
and he suddenly kissed me, sir."

"And you didn't stop him?"

"No, sir."

"Because that was what you had been hoping for, wasn't 
it!"

"I suppose so, sir."

"Use lots of tongue, did he?"

"Yes, sir."

"What happened next?"

"He touched me."

"Where?"

"My breas... my tit, sir."

"What did you do?"

"I... I let him."

"Because?"

"It felt good, sir," she said very quietly.

"It felt good, eh? I bet it did. Next?"

"He started to pull up my T-shirt."

"Did you help him take it off?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then what did you do?"

"I unbuttoned his shirt."

"And he took it off."

"Yes."

"Did you run your hands all over his manly chest?"

"No... not exactly."

"What then?"

"He started kissing me again and I had my hands on the 
back of his head."

"How romantic. Keep going and don't leave anything 
out."

"While he was kissing me, he unclipped my bra and 
pulled it off. Then he pushed me back onto the bed and 
started kissing my ... tits."

"And you liked that too, did you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And this was your first time you said."

"Yes, sir."

Something in his look suggested that he might still 
doubt her.

"Please, sir. It's the truth. He was the first."

"So tell us the rest."

"He kept kissing me and sucking on my nipples. I'd not 
felt anything like that before and I didn't want him 
to stop. But then he started unbuttoning my jeans."

She paused, embarrassed.

"And?" he insisted.

"I got scared. I stopped him but he began rubbing 
me... down there."

"Down there? Down where?"

"M...m...my...pussy, sir."

"That's better. And?

"And it felt... exciting."

"I'll bet it did. What then?

"He tried to undo the waist again and I let him. He 
stood up, unzipped my jeans and pulled them off with 
my sandals. Then he took off his jeans and lay back 
down beside me."

"Don't stop now," Ron urged.

"We kissed again."

"Yes?"

"And I... I put my hand on his... thing," she sobbed.

"You did what?" Ron laughed.

"He had this huge bulge in his shorts. I only wanted 
to see what it looked like so I pulled the front of 
his shorts down and looked at it."

"Jesus!" Ron gasped.

"He took his shorts off and then pushed me on my back 
and grabbed my panties. Before I could stop him, he 
tore them off and fell on top of me. I tried to stop 
him. I told him I was a virgin but he didn't stop. He 
pushed his thing..."

She saw Ron's look.

"...his penis... into me and it really hurt. I bled 
all over his bed and he swore at me."

"Way to go, Brad. So why did you lie to me?"

"I was ashamed. I knew it was partly my fault and I 
didn't want anyone to know in case they thought that I 
was a... what you called me."

"Say it." 

"A slut," she whimpered.

As she had been telling the story, Ron had started 
getting hard again. He went over to one of the lockers 
and came back with a jar of Vaseline.

"Time for your punishment," he said. "Thanks to Dirty 
Cousin Brad, your pussy will not be as tight as it 
was."

He started to slather Vaseline on his prick. Sarah 
watched him, fully aware now that he was going to rape 
her and clearly terrified by the prospect. He grinned 
evilly at her.

"So, I guess I shall have to content myself with your 
virgin arsehole."

Sarah gave a loud whimper.

"No, please don't do that. Please, sir. Not that. 
Please, sir."

He ignored her and walked to the other end of the 
table, running his finger down her spine and through 
the valley between her arse cheeks. Sarah continued to 
wail protests but he didn't listen. He took a smear of 
the grease and ran it right around the brown-fringed 
hole that he was preparing to penetrate. Sarah fought 
against the chains and moved her bum from side to side 
as much as the restraints would allow but to no avail. 
She was firmly held in position, her arse in the air 
and her anus now glistening. Ron moved closer to her 
and she felt his legs against the tops of her thighs. 

A moment later, the tip of his penis brushed her ring 
and she screamed. Undeterred, Ron used his hand to 
direct the head of his prick into her opening. God, it 
was a tight fit but he persisted. As he inched 
further, Sarah continued to wail. It felt as if he was 
tearing her open. Deeper and deeper he plunged until 
she felt sure she must burst. The pressure on her 
bladder caused her to urinate but still he kept 
pushing in until he had sunk all his length into her. 
Then he pulled back, only to plunge again. Sarah's 
wail turned to deep sobs as the pain hit her. Back, 
and in again.

The tightness of her rear passage, even with a 
lubricant, quickly brought Ron close to orgasm. He 
attempted to slow the pace and extend the pleasure but 
the thought of what he was doing to her was sufficient 
in itself to drive him over the edge and he spurted 
into her almost as vigorously as he had done into 
Jenny's mouth. Almost immediately, he felt himself 
going limp and pulled out. He left Sarah chained there 
while he went over to the showers and cleaned himself 
up. Still dripping wet, he came back and released 
Sarah who stood on shaking legs looking anywhere but 
at him.

"Get a cloth from the locker over there and clean up 
that piss on the floor. Then wipe your arse and get 
back to the wall."

She stumbled over to the locker and did as he had 
instructed. He used the loose restraints on her and 
went back to Jenny, who was not as calm as she had 
been earlier after witnessing his ruthlessness with 
her sister. He released her, confident that he could 
handle her no matter what she might take it into her 
head to try but she simply stood there waiting for him 
to speak.

"Today's your lucky day, Kid. I have a surprise for 
you. You told us all that you sometimes play with 
yourself but nothing much happens. I have decided 
that, today, you are going to have your first orgasm. 
Question is, are you going to accept it willingly or 
do I have to force it on you?" he smiled broadly.

She looked at him steadily, "I think you're going to 
have to force it on me, sir," she said flatly.

His smile died and, for a moment, she thought he might 
hit her but he got himself under control.

"If that's what you want. Lie on that table... face 
up."

She went to it, turned her back to it and sat her bum 
on the top. She then lay back and waited. Ron secured 
her arms to the table legs and noted how stretching 
her arms up over her head caused her small breasts to 
flatten. He took an ankle, dragged it to one side and 
locked it place. With the other foot chained, he had 
an uninterrupted view of her labia and the silky 
triangle of hair above. Her chest was heaving as she 
awaited his next move and the crude touch of his hand, 
or worse. 

But he had a surprise for her. He walked over to 
Astrid and released her, taking the box-cutter from 
his pocket as he did so. 

"Right, Astrid, get to it. I promised Jenny an orgasm 
so go and give it to her. I will be right there to 
make sure that you do. If you fail, I can promise you 
that she will pay the price and you should know by now 
that I keep my promises."

It was quite apparent that Astrid had little idea on 
what she was expected to do but he was not about to 
help her with suggestions. She stood beside the table 
looking down at the spread-eagled girl, her mind 
racing. Tentatively, she stretched out her left hand 
and stroked Jenny's pubic hair, riffling her fingers 
through it from side to side. Her other hand slid up 
over Jenny's stomach, then over one of her breasts 
where she started rubbing it back and forward over the 
nipple. 

Jenny closed her eyes. She was bewildered by what was 
happening. She had no interest in girls as potential 
sexual partners but – if it had to happen – this 
invasion of her body was better coming from a friend 
than from a depraved madman like their abductor. As 
Astrid's hand continued to caress her breast, she felt 
her nipple start to stiffen. Astrid also felt the 
response and brought her other hand up to caress the 
other breast.

Ron remembered Jenny saying that she had long nipples 
and, sure enough, they were growing visibly under 
Astrid's fingers. Astrid took them between her finger 
and thumb and pulled them until they were standing at 
least three-quarters of an inch proud of her breasts. 
Jenny had started to wriggle as the arousal in her 
nipples began to be echoed in the pit of her stomach. 
Astrid moved her hands back down Jenny's body and her 
index finger went to Jenny's "secret place". As she 
connected, she heard Jenny gasp. She rolled her finger 
around and the clitoris immediately responded, 
engorging and coming out of hiding. 

Looking closely, Ron could see Jenny's labia slowly 
opening and then the first traces of milky dampness 
appear. Astrid let her finger slide up and down the 
lips and they opened still further to reveal Jenny's 
virgin glory-hole, now slick with her secretions.

"Now eat her out," Ron ordered.

Astrid looked up at him in shock. She had some idea of 
what he meant but never in her fifteen years had she 
ever thought of doing it and had certainly never had 
it done to her.

"Get on with it," said Ron impatiently. "Get down 
there and use your tongue."

Astrid moved down to the end of the table and stood 
between Jenny's legs, then bent over and started 
reluctantly licking at Jenny's crease, her nostrils 
filling with the musky smell of the younger girl's 
arousal.

"Flick her clit," Ron commanded and Astrid did so. The 
response from Jenny was instant. She let out a low 
moan and her back arched, raising her pubic mound into 
Astrid's face.

"Good. Keep going," said Ron as Jenny's mounting 
excitement started making him hard again. As Astrid's 
tongue continued to stimulate her most sensitive 
areas, Jenny began to pant and her butt began to lift 
off the table and slap back in a steadily increasing 
rhythm. A wave of intense sensation was racing towards 
her vagina and she began whipping her head from side 
to side as ecstasy bordering on pain swept over her. 
She screamed with pleasure, and the sight of her in 
the throes of such sexual arousal had Ron fully 
excited again.

He looked at Astrid bent over and showing her own 
perfect bum. He bent over and pushed her legs apart to 
fully reveal her arsehole and her pussy and was 
surprised to see traces of moisture there. Clearly, 
Astrid was getting turned on too. She started to 
straighten up but he placed a hand on the back of her 
head and pushed it back down into Jenny's crotch, 
which was still heaving with the aftermath of her 
first massive orgasm. 

"Keep going," he commanded as he moved in tight behind 
her. Guessing what was about to happen to her, Astrid 
tried desperately to straighten up again but, with her 
legs forced apart, he was too strong for her and she 
felt his prick up against her pussy seeking her hole. 
She screamed with frustration but he had found the 
target and she felt him trying to enter her.

"No!!" she yelled again but it was too late.

Ron was pushing hard against the thin membrane of her 
virginity. He paused for just a moment and then, with 
a grunt, jammed himself into her until he was fully 
encased by her. She screamed with pain as her hymen 
ruptured and Ron began to pump her. He found that his 
two previous orgasms now allowed him to stay hard with 
no danger of a third happening immediately. He set 
about establishing a steady rhythm. He bent forward 
right over Astrid's back and used his free hand first 
to grab her breast and then to play with her clit. 

Astrid was pinned over Jenny and as the moments 
passed, found that the sharp pain she had so recently 
experienced was being replaced by another sensation 
more familiar to her. She felt his penis sliding deep 
within her and his fingers exploring her clit. She 
would have had no compunction, at that moment, about 
killing the man who was doing this to her, the man who 
had robbed her of something so precious. So why was 
she starting to find what he was doing arousing?

Ron felt Astrid's vagina reacting to his thrusting and 
withdrawing. Still incredibly tight, it was becoming 
slicker and her beautiful butt was beginning to move 
in synch with him. He increased the pace and she 
matched him, until they were both bucking and grunting 
like wild things. Ron felt another crashing orgasm 
building and Astrid was aware that against every 
probability, she too was about to experience a release 
more intense that she had ever enjoyed from using her 
own finger. They peaked in unison, gasping out "Oh, 
God" almost as one.

Jenny was watching in horror as she felt Astrid's hot 
tears on her stomach during the climactic moments. 
Slowly, Ron straightened and allowed Astrid to do the 
same. Pulling out of her, he looked over at Fiona, 
pointing to his wilting dick.

"Coming soon to a virgin near you," he said. 

He could see that she was about to say something 
venomous but he nodded at Jenny and she snapped her 
mouth closed. He grinned happily.

He sent Astrid to the showers and released Jenny's 
arms so that she could sit up. Later, with Astrid 
secured by one leg on the long chain following her 
shower, Jenny got her turn and was likewise manacled 
by one leg when she returned. Sarah was just re-
chained. He stood facing Fiona, who was the only 
fully-clothed person in the room.

"I know... I disgust you. You made that clear the 
first time that we met. Well, let me tell you 
something. You little tramps disgust me. You wander 
round the town flashing your bellies and boobs and 
then you're offended when people like me look at you. 
If you don't want to be looked at, don't dress like 
tarts. But you do want to be looked at, don't you...as 
long as it's by a chosen few. I bet you just love to 
tease the boys in your group. Boys like Dirty Cousin 
Brad.

"Well, ask Mouse where that leads. Some inexperienced 
spotty teenager so turned on by a bit of tit that he 
slams into you and shoots his load before you're even 
wet. Yet you have nothing but contempt for someone 
with enough experience to turn you on first. And why? 
I'll tell you why. Just because they're older."

As he started ranting at her, Fiona felt her cheeks 
flaming. Her mind was racing because, again, he was 
saying that they had met but she couldn't place where. 
He talked about the girls being seen "around town" and 
a vague memory started niggling at the back of her 
mind. She stopped listening to the words and studied 
his face as she thought. "You little tramps" – plural 
– and he had targeted all four of them so it must have 
been when they were all together and walking. 

That only happened consistently when they walked to 
and from the Recreation Centre. So, who had they met 
as a group when they were doing that. Nobody that she 
could recall. But the niggling memory would not go 
away. She looked at him again, replaying their journey 
and, suddenly, she remembered the guy on the 
restaurant patio who had seemed to be undressing her 
with his eyes. Understanding flooded over her. Ron saw 
that she had finally figured it out.

"You!" she burst out.

"Me," he responded.

"But you can't mean that you're doing this because of 
that."

She saw that the others had no clue what she was 
talking about. She turned to them.

"He was in a restaurant a couple of weeks ago as we 
were coming back from the Rec Centre. He stared at me 
and I called him a name or something."

"You called me an old perv," Ron said vehemently "and 
you had no fucking right. I've as much right to look 
at you as anyone else."

"But this?" Fiona said in total disbelief. 
"Kidnapping, assault, rape, sodomy? All because I 
called you a name? You're mad. They'll fry you for 
this."

"I don't think so," Ron smiled. "I told you, they're 
not looking for me because I have no connection at all 
with you, and by the time they find you ... if they 
ever do find you ... I'll be long gone. I'll simply 
disappear."

Fiona felt her blood run cold.

"What do mean... 'If they find us'? What do you intend 
to do with us?" she asked quietly.

"I haven't quite decided," he said.

"You can't be planning to kill us... not just for 
calling you a name."

"You all seemed to find it highly amusing to humiliate 
me but you're not laughing now, are you! Anyway, I 
told you. I haven't quite decided. I hadn't been 
planning to kill you, and I'd still prefer not to, 
just as long as you don't make it necessary."

"Look, sir," Fiona pleaded. "What I said and did was 
rude and thoughtless. It was a joke but I can see now 
that it hurt you and I am truly, truly sorry that I 
did it. We all are."

The three others all nodded.

"But you must see that killing us would serve no 
purpose. We'll all promise not to tell the police what 
you look like if you let us go."

Ron looked at her anxious expression and, in truth, 
killing them had been no part of his original thinking 
but he now realised that letting them go was not going 
to be as easy as he had thought. He also knew that 
Fiona was trying to manipulate him. He decided to 
postpone a decision.

"Your apology is a little late don't you think?" he 
said.

"But it is sincere," she answered.

"And self-serving."

"Sir?"

Ron started pacing back and forth as the rage started 
to build in him again. He nodded towards the girls.

"You think that, having taught the monkeys a few 
lessons for their rudeness, I'm going to let the 
organ-grinder get off free? That I'm just going to let 
you go back to your weekly swim practices as if 
nothing ever happened?"

A look of puzzlement passed fleetingly over her face. 
Ron had his back to her at that moment and didn't see 
it.

"No, Red," he was saying. "I've told you. I am going 
to make you beg me to fuck you. I am going to 
humiliate you and turn you into my sex-slave. Only 
then will we talk about what I will do about letting 
you all go. Right now, it's time to eat."

He stalked out of the room to microwave another bunch 
of instant meals. As soon as he had left the room, 
they all began to chatter about the maniac who was 
keeping them locked up... all except Fiona, who was 
lost in thought. There was no doubt in her mind that 
Ron was intending to rape her. He had clearly 
researched and planned this kidnapping very carefully 
but she was now convinced that he had made a 
fundamental error in his research and she was 
frantically thinking of a way in which she might use 
it to their advantage. At last, the glimmering of an 
idea began to form in her mind. She was not sure 
whether she could make it happen because it would 
require luck as well as opportunity, but she figured 
that it was their only chance, which meant that she 
had to try it. It would certainly require perfect 
timing.

The others picked at their food and sipped their water 
but Fiona ate hers hungrily. She was terrified of what 
Ron had in store for her but now, at least, she had a 
plan. Ron gathered up the debris and dropped it into a 
plastic sack for disposal in a dumpster later. Looking 
at Fiona, he was taken again by her beauty and knew 
that he could not delay taking his pleasure with her 
much longer. They stared at each other and he was 
gratified to see that she was the first to blink. He 
decided to grab some sleep and play the time shift 
trick on them one more time.

He pulled out the sleeping bags and pillows, put the 
pail within reach and locked them into their sleeping 
positions. But he couldn't leave without one more jab 
at Red.

"Tomorrow, you're going to beg me to fuck you, and I 
intend to have your pussy, your arse and your mouth. 
Sleep well, bitch!"

He grabbed the garbage sack and left them, switching 
off the lights as he went. Back in his own area, he 
didn't bother to listen to them or the news. As it 
happened, he would have learned nothing. The police 
were totally baffled and the girls were lost in their 
own thoughts, too demoralised to chatter. Sarah, 
Astrid and Jenny all slept fitfully; Fiona didn't 
sleep at all. Ron slept a deep and untroubled sleep 
until his alarm roused him five hours later. 

He strode into the room on this "new" day and looked 
them over. They all got up as he entered and, without 
his asking, folded their sleeping bags. He smiled. 
They were getting the message. He stowed the bags and 
pillows and saw that the pail needed emptying. He 
released Jenny.

"Take the pail over to the toilet, empty it. Wash it 
out and put it in the locker. Then take a shower."

To his surprise, she smiled at him, picked up the pail 
and moved towards the toilet area, walking like a 
model on a runway. His eye followed the swing of her 
naked buttocks and the gracious carriage of her nude 
body as she sashayed her way to the stall and slopped 
out the bucket. She squatted on the seat without 
closing the door and held his eye as she peed 
extensively before grabbing a bunch of toilet paper, 
wiping herself and then flushing. 

Making sure that the others were secure, he went over 
to where she was busy adjusting the temperature of the 
shower. She stretched out her arm to test the water 
and he caught his breath at the delicate curve of her 
firm young breasts with the nipples pointing slightly 
upwards, then he allowed his eyes to travel down her 
flat stomach to the softly covered triangle of flesh 
over her centre. She looked up, saw him watching her 
and smiled at him again. She picked up a bar of soap 
and stepped under the stream of hot water. He watched 
it run in rivulets over her body, over her hills and 
through her valleys, mesmerised by the sight.

"You could do with a shower too," she said. "Why don't 
you come in?"

He hesitated. What mischief was she up to? But, hell, 
there was nothing she could do to him and it was too 
tempting an offer to miss. 

He stripped and stepped into the water. He took the 
soap from her and she turned her back to him. It was 
almost as if she was expecting him to wash her back. 
Well, hell if he wouldn't. Still suspicious, he worked 
the soap in his hands to get up a lather and then 
began on her shoulders and working across her back. 
Her shoulder blades felt sharp under his hands but he 
continued to cover her entire back in lather before he 
re-soaped his hands and bent over to work lower. He 
slowly approached the tempting orbs of her buttocks 
and, as his hand swept over them, making contact with 
the firm, warm flesh, she turned her head to look at 
him over her shoulder. She was grinning. He stopped, 
stood up and took a pace back.

"Okay, what's your game, kid?" he demanded.

She turned to face him.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm very sorry that we were 
so rude to you."

"Yeah, well, that's easily said."

"Do you intend to hurt Fiona for what she said ...I 
mean, really hurt her."

"Depends on her. On how co-operative she is. Maybe 
not, if she does as I tell her."

"She won't... at least, not willingly."

"Then she'll suffer the consequences."

Water was bouncing off them and he was conscious of 
her nakedness and her nearness. As if reading his 
mind, she stepped closer. Keeping her voice low so 
that the sound of the shower kept the other girls from 
hearing her, she spoke.

"May I ask you something?" she said looking up into 
his eyes.

"You can ask."

"If I gave myself to you, would you agree not to hurt 
Fiona?"

He looked at her in disbelief.

"You're joking. Listen, kid, I can screw you any time 
I want and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"I know that but you would be taking me against my 
will. Have you ever had a young girl, a virgin, give 
herself to you willingly?"

Ron was stunned. She had hit a raw nerve. One of the 
reasons that he had been so infuriated by this group 
was that he had suffered a lifetime of rejection by 
professional women who would only tolerate his 
presence when he paid dearly in cash for their 
services. Here was a beautiful, unsullied, sensual 
fourteen year-old girl offering herself to him. He was 
sorely tempted. Besides, after he'd had her, he could 
do what he wanted and she couldn't prevent him.

"Why would you do this, Jenny?" he asked quietly.

Jenny noted that, for the first time, he had used her 
name in addressing her.

"You won't tell Sarah, will you?"

"No. Now...why?"

"I'm not sure how to explain it. Sarah and I have 
always been very competitive but we've always told 
each other everything. So I was hurt that she never 
told me that she and Brad had sex together."

She paused and then looked up at him again.

"I'm not stupid. I've seen the way you look at me and 
you've just about admitted that you mean to rape me 
before you're done with us. I mean, you've already 
done that to Sarah and Astrid but you seem to be 
planning to really take it out on Fiona. So far, 
though, you've not hurt me. In fact, yesterday, you 
had Astrid give me my first ever orgasm. It made me 
understand why Sarah might have let Brad have sex with 
her and what she meant when she said that Brad made 
her feel good. 

"You said that it disgusted you that she would let an 
inexperienced boy have sex with her but not an 
experienced man. I don't want to be raped by anyone... 
certainly not by you, but if you promise me that you 
won't hurt Fiona, I'll give myself to you willingly 
and let you prove that an experienced man can have sex 
with someone and make them enjoy it. That way, I help 
Fiona and I'm even, maybe, one jump ahead of Sarah."

In spite of himself, Ron roared with laughter. What a 
little pistol. Sex as revenge. Well, he knew all about 
that.

"Okay, kid, here's the deal. There is no going back on 
my promise to Red that I am going to make her beg me 
to fuck her but I can do it without causing her 
serious physical harm. I will promise to do that if 
you ASK me to fuck you."

"No, I don't want you to "fuck" me. But I would let 
you make love to me if you don't hurt Fiona... please, 
sir."

She turned and walked away from him to the lockers and 
pulled out the sleeping bags which she laid, two on 
two, by one of the side walls of the room. Then she 
placed two pillows at one end and knelt on the bed she 
had fashioned. He walked over to her and stood looking 
down on her upturned face. Her eyes were bright 
with... what? Excitement? Anticipation?

She reached out and took his penis in her hand, gently 
beginning the stroking motion that he had taught her 
the previous day. He knelt facing her and sank back on 
his heels. She continued to slide her hand up and down 
as he began to harden and then bent over his lap and 
slid her lips over the head. Gravity caused no 
downward sagging of her breasts and he marvelled again 
that something so small could be so perfect, so firm 
and so exciting. Her lips slid lower on his dick and 
he knew that he was going to take her as she had asked 
him to, gently but insistently. Once again, she proved 
her natural ability by positioning herself directly 
over his upright staff and allowing it to slide to the 
back of her mouth and into her throat. 

As she slid her mouth back up again, he felt her 
lightly graze his flesh with her teeth and it excited 
him. He put his hands gently under her chin and pulled 
her into a sitting position. Then he lay her back on 
the sleeping bags and lay beside her.

A chorus of protest arose from the girls who suddenly 
realised that Jenny was about to be raped, as they 
thought, but he and Jenny ignored them and he did 
exactly what he had promised himself he would do the 
first time that he saw her naked. He leaned over her, 
took one of her breasts into his mouth and sucked. His 
tongue flicked back and forward over her nipple and he 
took it gently between his teeth. If began to grow 
satisfyingly in his mouth and he used a hand to stroke 
the other nipple until it, too, extended and grew 
hard. He began kissing just below her breasts and 
continued moving slowly down her body. 

She placed her hands on the back of his head as he 
moved. With his hands continuing to excite her 
breasts, his mouth reached her navel, and his tongue 
investigated it, causing her to squirm. Moving his 
hands onto her hips, he let his mouth explore her 
pubic mound. The hair there was sparse and silky and 
he blew into it, watching it swirl in the currents of 
his hot breath.

Down again and he was gazing at her virgin pussy. It 
formed a straight line down to where her vagina lay 
concealed behind a pucker of pink skin. But the female 
anatomy is laid out in a generally universal way and 
his tongue made a beeline for the small swelling that 
was just beginning to show itself at the top of the 
slit. He let his tongue flicker over it and heard her 
moan softly. Encouraged he took it between his teeth 
and pulled. She jumped as though she'd received an 
electric shock. He let it go and let his thumb and 
index finger take over as he watched what effect it 
was having. Definitely, the right one. Blood started 
moving to the lips of her labia and they began to 
swell, moisten and reveal the inner lips. He let his 
finger trail through the milky fluid that was now 
being released and pressed on the underlying flesh. 

Jenny had her eyes closed, no doubt trying to imagine 
that he was some young stud. No matter. He was rock-
hard and totally turned on by his freedom to do 
anything he wanted to her body. He continued to 
stimulate her clitoris and the pathway leading to his 
ultimate target. As before, Jenny was starting to 
breathe heavily and she felt her stomach performing 
flip-flops as his finger continued rubbing her. As he 
watched, her vagina began to open and he saw strands 
of her secretions festooning the entrance. 

Gently, he pressed a finger against the opening and 
she lifted her buttocks off the ground, pushing her 
mound higher into the air. He slid his other hand 
under her and let his index finger slide down the 
valley between her cheeks until it found her other 
opening. She struggled a little as he slipped his 
finger in a little way but he kept it there as she 
came to a crashing climax, groaned with pleasure and 
collapsed back on the sleeping bags. 

He used one hand to continue rubbing her clitoris 
gently while he spread her legs with the other. 
Kneeling between her legs he slowly lowered himself so 
that he could take his weight on his elbows. Jenny 
bent her legs slightly as he moved his prick closer to 
her still damp vagina. He carefully positioned himself 
until he was touching her and felt her tense as he 
began to press down. She was so small that, for a 
moment, he wasn't sure that he could get into her 
without hurting her but, as he rubbed up and down her 
slit, she began to relax and, after a couple more 
tentative attempts, he felt himself tight up against 
her maidenhead.

He paused for a moment. Placing his head beside her 
ear he whispered to her.

"This is going to hurt, babe."

"Just do it," she grunted.

"Hang tough, then," he said and bore down with all his 
weight. He felt the thin membrane stretch and then 
tear as he slid into her... part way to begin with but 
as the tightness and silkiness gripped him, deeper and 
deeper until on the fourth thrust, he was buried 
completely in her warmth. He paused to allow the 
initial pain of his entry to subside.

Jenny bit her lip until a droplet of blood formed but 
she did not cry out as he sank deep into her. Then he 
began to move and to feel the first surge of his 
pleasure building. He wanted to take his time, both to 
savour the moment, and to see if he could make Jenny 
climax with him. Sure enough, she was relaxing again 
and after a moment, he knew she was becoming aroused 
once more. He speeded up and she kept pace. 

He was a fast-moving piston now and her small breasts 
were shuddering like tiny jellies on a plate as the 
slap of her butt on the floor was transferred up her 
slender frame. The sight of this, and her erect 
nipples, drove him to the edge and he fought to make 
sure that she was right there with him. He could feel 
the orgasm starting to take her and he pulled out of 
her just a moment before exploding all over her chest. 

She yelled in protest at his withdrawal but it was too 
late to stop her climaxing even more strongly than 
either of her earlier experiences. She flopped back 
gasping for breath. Against his better judgement and 
every preconceived idea that he had, at that moment he 
loved her and he leaned over to kiss her. Her eyes 
flew open and she quickly pushed him away.

"Not part of the deal," she said. Then she calmly got 
to her feet and walked back under the shower which was 
still streaming away. Ron came back to reality with a 
crash. So what was new? All girls were like that. Get 
what they can out of you and then off. He went over to 
the shower, picked up the soap and washed himself to 
be rid of her. Then he re-chained her in the spread 
position as if to remind her that he could take her 
any time he wanted. She refused to meet his eye.

He got dressed and thought about his next move. Until 
now, he had been confident that he was playing the 
game totally to his own advantage. Their humiliation 
was his objective, and his thinking was that by making 
Red wait, she would have time to let the dread build 
inside her. He just hoped that he hadn't misread her 
and that seeing the others forced to strip hadn't bred 
indifference. He walked over to her.

"Your turn at last, Red."

He saw her breathing start to accelerate. Good, she 
was frightened. 

"When do you turn sixteen?" he asked.

"In six weeks," she said, figuring he probably knew 
that anyway.

"Any man ever seen you naked, Red."

"No."

"Not even your doctor?"

"She's a woman."

"So today will be a whole series of firsts for you 
then."

She said nothing.

"Well, you know the rules. You do as I tell you or one 
of the others gets hurt. Only, this time, we aren't 
talking blow-jobs and butt-fucking. We're talking 
about marking them so that boys won't find them so 
attractive. Like my maybe carving the word "Whore" on 
Sarah's forehead. On the other hand, if you do as I 
tell you, things may work out all right. Here we go 
then."

He undid her right arm and gave her the key. He stood 
back and took the box cutter out and slid open the 
blade to show her. Without his asking, Fiona unlocked 
herself from the shackles and offered him the key.

"Detach the long chains, then toss me the key," he 
said and she did as he asked. He caught it, stuck it 
in his pocket and, knife in hand, collected the chains 
from her, dropping them on the table. She stood 
waiting and he took a moment or two to study her. Much 
as he had been turned on by Jenny's trim shape, Red 
truly was the woman of his dreams. He had always been 
partial to redheads and this one had everything; 
perfect face and perfect figure, and she was going to 
be his, of that he had no doubt.

"No point in waiting any longer," he said. "Shoes and 
socks first please."

In spite of her determination not to let him see any 
weakness in her, Fiona found that, now the time was 
here, her hands were shaking. With some difficulty she 
managed to untie her laces and get her shoes off. She 
stood on one leg to remove her sock and had to hop a 
little to maintain her balance. The other sock 
followed. Ron saw that her toenails were painted to 
match her fingernails.

"Sweatpants," he barked.

Fiona was taken by surprise. She had been expecting 
him to work from the top down. Slowly she took hold of 
the waistband. He didn't hurry her. Now that the 
outcome was inevitable, he was happy to enjoy the 
show. As she gripped the pants, she remembered his 
comments about enjoying the tease so she removed them 
quickly. She would not pander more than absolutely 
necessary to his perversions. Ron saw that she was 
wearing a pair of pale blue lace panties through which 
he could just discern a small bush of red hair.

"Turn slowly in a circle," he ordered.

She began to rotate and he admired the generous curves 
of her outlined butt. As her back view appeared, the 
thin material clung to her perfect cheeks and was 
firmly stuck in the cleft between them. Facing him 
again, she stopped awaiting his next command.

"Your panties... take them off," he ordered.

He couldn't have known but this was Fiona's private 
dread. She could have coped more easily with baring 
her breasts but her sex was her personal "last ditch". 
To be completely nude down there and in front of him 
was horrendous to her. This time, her slowness was not 
a tease. She was willing herself to remove the thin 
fabric that would allow him to inspect her most 
private parts. Finally, she had them off. He pulled 
the chair over and sat facing her. 

"Come here," he said and she approached him slowly.

"Spread your legs."

In spite of herself, knowing what was to come, she 
felt her eyes bright with tears as she obeyed him.

"Still claim that you're a virgin?"

She nodded.

"Well, if it's true, that makes you the last one 
here."

He sat and made a close visual inspection of her 
genitals. Copper red hair, short and springy against 
alabaster skin. Tight line of shaded skin presently 
hiding her sex. "Swimmer's legs," he thought. "Strong 
and shapely."

He held up his index finger in front of her face. She 
blinked but otherwise her face remained 
expressionless. He ran his finger up the inside of her 
thigh from knee to crotch and her leg twitched in an 
involuntary reaction to his touch. Using both thumbs, 
he pried apart her pussy lips revealing the folds of 
skin at her entrance. Her face burned with 
humiliation. Ron grinned at her discomfort and 
deliberately licked his finger before pressing it 
against her opening. 

She bent slightly, moving her butt backwards. He took 
the index finger of his other hand, slipped it between 
her legs, hooked it into her anus and pulled her 
forward again as she gasped in shocked surprise. 
Without further hesitation he checked her dry, tight 
entrance and quickly found that she had told the 
truth. She was still a virgin.

He wiped his fingers on her sweat top and smiled at 
her.

"Good news," he said. "I get to be the first. Now, 
let's see the rest."

She was shaking noticeably now as she peeled off her 
sweat suit top. The regulation white blouse with white 
bra under came into view. Slowly, she undid her blouse 
– not to tease him but because her trembling hands had 
difficulty managing the buttons. Finally she had them 
undone and slipped the blouse down off her arms. Only 
her bra remained. She reached behind her and struggled 
with the clasp. Finally, she had it free and, with a 
shudder of despair, she pulled it off and tossed it 
aside. 

Ron took an involuntary breath. At last he was looking 
at her completely naked and she was every bit as 
stunning in reality as she had been in his 
imagination. He had never seen a pair of breasts that 
excited him more. She had a small mole on the side of 
her right one and he could see the faint tracery of 
blue veins that ran beneath her alabaster skin. He 
found himself nodding approvingly. The pinky-brown 
circles of her areolae were crowned by her already 
prominent nipples.

"You know, Red," he said "I'm almost glad that you 
pissed me off. If you hadn't, I would never have seen 
you like this and that would have been a great pity. 
It was worth waiting for."

Fiona stood motionless, her mind in turmoil; fury, 
embarrassment, fear all mixed together but she made a 
huge effort to clear her mind in order to concentrate 
on what she knew she had to do. 

"So, Red, you ready to beg yet?"

"No, and I never will," she said quietly.

Ron studied her for a long moment as she hung her head 
in shame. He watched the rise and fall of her breasts 
as she tried to control her breathing and saw the 
tremor in her legs as she remained with them spread in 
response to his last command. He came to a fresh 
decision.

"Okay, Fiona," he said.

Her head snapped up and she looked at him in surprise. 
He'd used her name.

"New rules," he continued. "No more reprisals on the 
other girls. This is between you and me. You started 
this and you're going to finish it. You think you're 
so far above me because your Daddy is rich and sends 
you to a fancy school. You think you can crap all over 
people like me and get away with it. The very idea of 
having sex with me disgusts you. 

"But you are going to beg me to fuck you, and I am 
going to... and you are going to make nice and thank 
me afterwards."

She just shook her head.

"But first of all, you are going to take a shower. You 
stink. Go on and be quick about it."

Without a word, Fiona walked over to the shower area 
and turned on the water. He walked over and watched as 
she shampooed and rinsed her hair before soaping 
herself and he was turned on by the sight of her 
cupping her own perfectly proportioned breasts as she 
lathered them and washed the suds away. White foam 
trickled down her legs as she rinsed soap from her 
pubic hair. He handed her a safety razor.

"Shave it," he said, pointing at her pussy. 

She glared at him, then turned her back to him and 
began to lather the area again.

"Face me," he ordered and she turned back. He watched 
as she began to remove the red fuzz and rinse it from 
the blade.

"Make sure it's clean as a whistle," he added.

She carefully pulled the skin around her slit taut and 
removed the remaining wisps of red, looking up at him 
afterwards as if to see if he was satisfied. He looked 
at the slightly reddened skin left by the razor's 
passage and smiled with satisfaction. 

He tossed her a towel.

"Okay, dry off."

As soon as she was dry, he went over to the table and 
picked up the chains. 

"Come over here and lie on you back on the table."

Fiona knew from Ron's repeated statements that it was 
his avowed intent to have her submit and was terrified 
at the thought of what painful physical coercion he 
would use to get his way but she had no choice. 
Everything depended on her being able to outwait and 
outwit him. She walked to the table and allowed him to 
chain her in place, arms stretched out above her head, 
legs spread, her pink, naked pussy and the brown 
pucker of her anus on display to him and the other 
girls who remained silent with apprehension as the 
drama played out.

Ron went to a locker and returned with a small sports 
bag which he placed beside the table. He stood looking 
down at her and ran his fingers gently through her 
hair again, loving the feel and fragrance of it. Her 
green eyes flashed in loathing but he thought he had 
never seen anyone more beautiful or desirable. At last 
he had access to her, all of her and could do anything 
he wished but what he truly wanted was for her to give 
herself to him willingly, as Jenny had done earlier.

He reached out a hand and placed it on her stomach. 
She closed her eyes. He let his hand slide up her rib-
cage and lightly brushed her breast. 

"You say that you have long nipples," he mused. "Let's 
see."

He started to rub the tip of his finger lightly around 
the areola, barely touching her skin. Fiona, who had 
been expecting something more brutal was taken by 
surprise again. She was determined that she would not 
allow herself to respond to his touching and began to 
concentrate on anything that would keep her mind off 
his exploration of her body. She kept her eyes tightly 
closed and began running multiplication tables in her 
head.

"Two twos are four, three twos are six, four twos are 
eight...."

Ron was in no hurry and brought his other hand into 
play, working on the other breast as gently as the 
first.

"Four threes are twelve...oh, god."

Fiona felt her nipples starting to swell and harden.

"Four threes are twelve, five threes are fifteen, 
seven threes are... no, wait, six threes are..."

Her body was betraying her. Her nipples continued to 
stiffen and Ron was now gripping them between finger 
and thumb and tweaking them to their full magnificent 
extension. She tried again.

"Two threes are six, three threes are... shit!"

He was now squeezing her breasts and kneading them 
with his hands. She could feel herself getting hot. He 
leaned over and kissed one of her breasts, sucking at 
it, nibbling on it and teasing the rampant nubbin with 
his teeth. She had never allowed any of her boyfriends 
to do this. A quick feel over her clothes maybe, but 
that was it. And playing with her own breasts had 
never produced a sensation like that she was now 
feeling. Concentrate. CONCENTRATE!!

"Try sevens," she thought. "Two sevens are fourteen, 
three sevens are twenty-one, four sevens are twenty-
eight, five sevens are... five sevens... ahh!"

The last "ahh" was audible as Ron, still working her 
breast with his mouth, was now sliding his hand down 
over her stomach. She tensed her muscles but that only 
made things worse and did nothing to slow his hand as 
it continued gliding down her body. Maybe conjugating 
French verbs would allow her to ignore him.

"J'ai, tu as, il a, nous avons..."

His hand was now glancing over the newly shaved area 
of her crotch and she was acutely aware that he was 
the first person, apart from herself, ever to touch 
her down there. She fought with all her will to 
control her body's reaction. She would not let him 
win. Ron released her breast and looked down at her. 
Her eyes were screwed closed and her jaw was clamped 
tight. Every muscle in her stomach was contracted. He 
knew what she was hoping to do and he smiled.

Ron's sexual education had occurred in brothels and 
had come at a high price, literally, in ports ranging 
from Saigon to Valparaiso. What was more, he had 
learned from experts who knew every trick there was 
for pleasuring a man... or a woman. He walked to the 
end of the table and took up a new position between 
her legs, placing a hand back on her pubic mound. As 
her muscles tensed again, he lifted his hand and let 
his finger tips run lightly back and forth across the 
bare flesh where her pubic hair had been. Her belly 
jerked spasmodically as his fingernails lightly 
abraded her skin. He loved the way this set her 
breasts rippling and kept it up for a while. For 
Fiona, it was pure torture. She knew he was about to 
venture further and the fear and anticipation of the 
assault had her nerves jangling.

Slowly Ron moved his fingers lower and lower on her 
delta until they were just about at her labia and he 
kept them there for what felt to her like an age as 
they skimmed backwards and forwards over her skin. 
Suddenly, he ran his index finger up and down the 
entire length of her slit and she shuddered and gasped 
at the sudden contact. 

Fiona tried every mental exercise she could think of 
but, as his finger continued to apply light pressure 
to her most sensitive area, she discovered that her 
body's natural reactions were stronger than her 
ability to halt them. To her shame, she felt herself 
responding. Her clit was beginning to engorge and she 
knew that she was starting to get wet. Ron had been 
waiting for this and immediately transferred his 
attention to the swollen button, rolling his finger 
round on it and causing Fiona to squirm, initially in 
an effort to escape his finger but increasingly in 
response to the sensations that were starting to 
build. Keeping his finger at work on her pussy, Ron 
reached out and began fondling her breast again with 
the other hand.

Nipples and clitoris fully erect, Fiona felt the heat 
starting to spread from her chest and stomach to her 
loins and her body beginning to move involuntarily 
with Ron's finger. Immediately he began running his 
finger up and down her labia again and she knew that 
she was now wide open to him and soaking. He saw that 
her vagina was secreting and let his finger explore 
her entrance. She groaned, knowing that if he 
continued much longer, she would orgasm and she tried 
once again to think of something, anything that would 
help her deny him this victory. It was a losing 
battle. She heard herself panting and felt the 
beginning of the wave.

And then, quite suddenly, Ron stopped and her body 
began to pull back from the peak. Fiona was puzzled 
but relieved as she began to relax her tensed muscles 
and her breathing slowly returned to normal. 

"Ready to beg me?" he asked her.

"I told you... never," she panted.

Ron just smiled and waited a full ten minutes before 
reaching for her breasts again. Carefully, 
methodically, he began the arousal and, as before, her 
body began to respond to the point where she thought 
that nothing could stop her from coming... and again 
he stopped just in time for her body to halt the 
release. This time, the sense of anti-climax was a lot 
less reassuring to her.

"So?" Ron asked.

"No!" 	

Ron sat back until he was sure that her delectable 
body had fully withdrawn from the stimulation and 
began the process again. This time, Fiona abandoned 
all attempts to defeat him with mental gymnastics. She 
had learned by now that her automatic bodily responses 
were too deeply ingrained. She simply gritted her 
teeth and waited for her body to do what it would but, 
once again, he wouldn't allow the final relief and 
once again she refused to beg him to fuck her. By the 
fifth time he brought her to that point, though, she 
was in tears and felt her resolve weakening but, 
somehow, held on as he once again waited for her body 
to subside.

The sixth time had her yelling aloud in frustration. 
Her body was a mass of screaming nerve ends and she 
was exhausted, but she would not give in. Their lives 
might depend on it. In the next pause, she saw Ron 
bend over and retrieve something from the sports bag 
and her pulse quickened in fear of what he might be 
planning. He had an evil grin on his face as he held 
up what he had retrieved. In his hands were two 
vibrators. He switched them on and she heard them 
buzzing like angry hornets before he applied one to 
each of her breasts, running them around the nipples. 

Almost immediately, her nipples began to swell and he 
kissed each in turn, pulling on them with his teeth 
and stretching them even further. Once he had them 
fully erect, he took one of the vibrators and dipped 
it in the jar of Vaseline. Switching it back on, he 
slipped it deep into her anus before she even had a 
chance to protest. She screamed both in pain and in 
shock. Her rear passage felt completely filled up with 
this pulsing, intrusive mechanical prick that was 
throbbing against her pubic bone. Almost immediately, 
Ron applied the second to her throbbing clitoris.

In seconds, she was starting to build again to a 
massive climax. Her head was cocked to one side and 
her entire centre was heaving up and down. This time 
she was sure that he had left it too late and, as 
though he had read her mind, he withdrew both 
vibrators and switched them off. She collapsed back on 
the table, unable to believe that her body was once 
again refusing to finish the job it had started. As he 
looked at her, she went into a complete emotional 
breakdown. Tears streamed down her cheeks, sobs racked 
her shapely frame and she was barely able to choke out 
a plea.

"Please... no more. Not again, please!"

"You know how to end it, Fiona. Say it."

"No."

"Okay. We'll give it a couple of minutes and start 
again. I have all day."

"No," she screamed. "Please no!"

"Say it then."

Another great sob exploded from her and then, in a 
whisper, he heard her say "Please, sir, I'm begging 
you to fuck me."

"I'm sorry, Fiona, I didn't quite catch that. What did 
you say?"

She opened her eyes and stared at him. "Please, sir, 
I'm begging you to fuck me," she yelled.

He made sure he did not let his triumph show but, 
inside, he was ecstatic. He had broken her and he 
would now be able to complete his revenge.

"Very well, and thank you for asking," he purred. "You 
know, Fi..." he smiled, "...You don't mind if I call 
you Fi, do you... now that we are going to be lovers. 
Anyway, the thing is... I have a small problem. I 
promised you that I would have your cunt, ass and 
mouth. The question is, which to have first."

Ron paused for effect, since – in keeping with his 
lifetime habit – he knew the answer. He was going to 
save the best, her cherry, for last.

"I think we'll start with you blowing me." He said.

Fiona was now crying openly. She had anticipated that 
he would go straight for her cherry and, were her plan 
to prove successful, she might actually have been able 
to thwart him without having to suffer any additional 
humiliation but it was not to be. She was going to 
experience complete degradation before she had any 
chance to put her stratagem into effect.

Ron walked around the table, releasing her hands and 
ankles. He went to help her stand up but she shrugged 
him off. Angry, Ron pushed her to her knees with her 
back to the front edge of the table. He dragged her 
arms behind her and manacled her wrists to the eye 
bolts at the bottom of the table legs. Fiona was 
pinioned in a kneeling position, her breasts jutting 
out as her body was arched back by the restraints. Ron 
walked round in front of her and their eyes met. He 
wondered if there was still some lingering defiance in 
her.

"It's not that I doubt your sincerity," he told her 
"but I think I would like you to say it one more time. 
Go ahead. Say it for me."

Fiona forced back her tears. She was tempted to refuse 
but knew that it was vital that he believe that he had 
beaten her. The quaver in her voice when she spoke was 
real enough.

"Please, sir. I'm begging you to fuck me."

"Good girl. Let's start with the blow-job."

He stood back a pace and proceeded to remove all his 
clothes. He pulled the chair over and sat, adjusting 
it so that his legs were spread on either side of her 
and his groin was right in front of her face.

"You know what to do," he said.

Fiona swallowed, took a deep breath and leaned 
forward. There was just enough give in her restraints 
that she could bring her lips into contact with his 
flaccid prick. She kissed it gently and, almost 
immediately, it began to stiffen, making it easier for 
her to reach it. Closing her eyes in revulsion, she 
kissed it again and felt it becoming firm. She 
remembered his instruction from the previous day and 
ran her tongue along the underside and then back up to 
the head.

Ron felt his cock become rock hard. This was far 
better than the wildest fantasy he could ever have 
conjured up. Here was the most beautiful woman he had 
ever seen "willingly" giving him, little Rat Talbot, a 
blow-job - with the promise of even better to come. He 
immediately felt his juices starting to flow from the 
tip of his shaft and saw Fiona grimace as she tasted 
male saltiness for the first time in her life. 

He placed a hand on the back of her head and she 
responded by opening her luscious lips and sliding 
them over his rampant manhood. He had only to push 
once and she began sliding him in and out of her mouth 
until he was glancing off the back of her throat. 
Fiona started to gag but continued to breathe deeply 
and kept sucking as his vile cock assaulted her mouth. 
She heard him begin to gasp and felt his hips starting 
to gyrate. 

She tried to back out but he kept her head pressed 
down. Although she knew what was going to happen, the 
explosion when it came was beyond anything she could 
have anticipated. Gout after gout of hot semen coursed 
down her throat and she nearly choked as she tried to 
swallow fast enough to keep up with it.

When he was finally spent, he allowed her to back off. 

"Lick me clean," he ordered.

Disgusted with herself, she leaned in again and used 
her tongue to remove all traces of his seed from his 
rapidly deflating prick.

"Not bad for a first time, Fi," he smiled.

Fiona hung her head. "May I go to the bathroom 
please," she muttered.

"Certainly," he smiled, "but no tricks or I may have 
to go back to my old ways of hurting your friends."

He released her and she ran to the nearest stall, 
pushing the door closed behind her. The sound of her 
vomiting came from behind the closed door. Finally, 
she emerged, went to the sink and splashed water over 
her face, then bent forward to take a few sips. She 
came slowly back to face him and decided to take a 
risk.

"Can we get this over?" she asked quietly. "Why don't 
you just take my virginity and have done?"

But there was no shortcutting him.

"What, and break a promise? No way, Fiona. Your arse 
is mine."

He led her to her spot on the back wall. She was 
shaking. With Sarah, his anal assault had been sudden 
and unexpected but she knew exactly what was coming 
and, if she fought him now, she could well blow their 
only chance of getting out of this nightmare. She 
expected him to make her lie across the table but he 
had other ideas. He secured her left ankle and her 
left wrist to one of the lower eye-bolts and her right 
ankle and wrist to the other. This left her bent 
double with her legs splayed apart and her anus 
totally exposed to him. Her head was pressed against 
the wall. It was an extremely uncomfortable position 
and the strain on her calf muscles would quickly 
become severe. Fiona began praying that, if the 
inevitable was going to happen, that he would get on 
with it.

But Ron was not in a hurry. He needed a little time to 
recover. He looked at Sarah, Jenny and Astrid, all 
chained and spread-eagled naked beside Fiona, just as 
he had fantasized that first afternoon. None of them 
would meet his eye at that moment. After the excesses 
of the past couple of days, he felt the need of 
something novel to get him erect again. He thought for 
a second, and then retrieved a third vibrator from his 
sports bag. At the time he got them, he expected that 
he might use two and added the third solely as a back-
up should one fail. Now he smiled as he came up with 
an exciting use for all of them. 

Predictably, Sarah began to cower as he approached her 
but he ignored her and switched on the first vibrator. 
Kneeling in front of her, he parted her pussy lips and 
placed the tip of the vibrator on her clit. The effect 
was almost instantaneous and he was soon able to slip 
the throbbing instrument into her vagina, leaving it 
planted deeply within her. Without a pause, he moved 
to Astrid and repeated his stimulation with the second 
vibrator. Moments later, Astrid had a device throbbing 
inside her. Jenny squirmed helplessly as the third 
instrument was quickly inserted into her tight little 
pussy.

Ron stood back to watch the inevitable outcome and 
make sure that the instruments did not slip out. By 
this time, Sarah was already breathing hard, her large 
breasts heaving. Astrid was shaking her head from side 
to side as if to deny the sensations that were 
building in her. It was Jenny who surprised him 
...again. As he watched, her nipples hardened and her 
stomach tensed. Her feet were planted firmly on the 
floor and her hips started moving slowly forwards and 
backwards, as far as the restraints would allow. 
Astrid began to grunt, her eyes tightly closed. Sarah 
was making little mewling noises. Jenny's hip 
movements became more violent, her buttocks slapping 
the wall behind her as she fought to control the 
rising wave.

Ron was mesmerised. Never had he seen three girls 
simultaneously in the throes of an orgasm that he had 
produced. He began to harden and swiftly smeared 
Vaseline on his rising cock. He moved behind Fiona as 
he continued to watch the girls come to the crest. It 
was Astrid who came first. Her body heaved and a long 
low moan escaped her lips. Almost at the same time, 
Jenny climaxed. "Oh god, Oh god, Oh god," she kept 
shouting as the vibrator kept stimulating her most 
sensitive nerve endings. Even before the third "Oh 
god", Sarah was swept by the most violent orgasm she 
had ever experienced and screamed in pleasure.

Fiona was still bent over and had her head twisted to 
see what was happening. As the girls started to 
climax, she felt Ron's hardened penis pressing against 
her slit. For a moment, she panicked. This was not how 
he was supposed to take her virginity but then she 
felt relief and terror mixed as Ron smeared Vaseline 
on and around her anus. There was a momentary pause 
and then she felt the tip of his cock come into 
contact with her tight rear opening. 

She bit her lip, determined not to scream. Ron grabbed 
her hips and began to push down. He wanted to take his 
time in order to prolong her humiliation. She felt the 
entrance to her anal passage being stretched as he 
pushed the tip into her. It hurt but it was not 
intolerable. But then he pushed again and slid in 
another inch and she felt as though she was being 
ripped apart. She gasped in shock. He pushed again... 
another inch and she whimpered. Another push and this 
time, the pain was exquisite. Her calves were burning 
from being bent double and she felt as though someone 
was forcing a hot iron into her bowels.

Ron was in ecstasy. Her arse was as tight as he could 
ever have wished and he knew that he would not be able 
to hold out long. He looked over to the three girls. 
The vibrators were still buzzing away inside them and 
Sarah was already climaxing again. Jenny was sobbing 
and Astrid was sagging against the restraints as her 
pussy throbbed from the non-stop stimulation. It was 
enough to bring Ron to the brink also. 

He pushed forward hard and sank the remaining inches 
of his prick deep into Fiona's quivering flesh. This 
time, she did scream and he immediately shot his load, 
jerking backwards and forwards until he had milked 
every last drop into her. Then he pulled out and wiped 
himself off with a towel before going over to the 
girls to switch off and remove the vibrators. They 
collapsed against their restraints, straining for 
breath and tears still streaming down their cheeks. 

Ron used the towel to wipe Fiona's anus and then 
released her to sit in the chair, with just her wrists 
restrained.

"So, Fiona McNish. Here's the deal. You are the cause 
of all this and it is up to you how this all ends. I 
had no intention of killing you when I planned this 
but it has become pretty clear that letting you go may 
be a real problem."

At this, Sarah let out a wail of anguish. Ron ignored 
her and continued to address Fiona who was now ashen 
with worry at what he had just said.

"I've been giving it a lot of thought though, and I 
have what may be a solution. I need a little time to 
get ready for your big moment and I propose to feed 
you all. After we have eaten, you and I will complete 
our deal together. If you are totally co-operative and 
give yourself to me completely willingly, I'll chain 
each of you by one ankle only, with food and water 
here for you. I'll then take off and disappear. Never 
mind where. Sufficient to say the authorities will 
never find me. In twenty-four hours, I'll phone the 
San Diego police and tell them where to find you. If 
you fail to cooperate in any way, I'll just 
disappear... period. Believe me when I tell you that 
it will be weeks before anyone looks here. What is 
your answer, Fiona? Do we have a deal?"

Fiona's mind was racing. First of all, he was offering 
her exactly the opportunity she was hoping for. On the 
other hand, if she seemed too eager to accept, he 
might smell a rat. She had to continue to look totally 
beaten. She looked up at him.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" she said weakly.

"Is that a yes?" Ron countered.

"Yes," she said.

"You'll let me do whatever I want and you'll actually 
participate, not just lie there like a dead fish?"

There was a pause.

"Yes."

Ron let out a whoop of delight. Now that he had what 
he wanted, he felt that he could afford to be 
magnanimous.

"You know what is ironic about this whole thing, 
Fiona? You truly are the most beautiful woman I have 
ever seen. You are young, fresh, vital. My staring at 
you was the most reasonable, natural thing in the 
world and if you had only accepted gracefully what was 
– in every way – meant as a compliment, none of this 
would have happened. You could have chosen to see that 
you were being admired for your loveliness, you could 
have smiled, gone on your way and we would both have 
felt great."

He shrugged.

"Maybe... just maybe you will all have learned 
something from this experience. Everyone deserves 
respect until they demonstrate otherwise."

He released Fiona and used the long chain to secure 
one ankle to the wall. Then he worked his way down the 
line, releasing each girl in turn to collapse into his 
arms since their fatigued legs could not support them. 
Soon all were restrained by the one ankle and he went 
out to prepare the meals.

Once they had eaten, he cleared the remains away and 
went to the storage lockers from which he pulled out 
all the sleeping bags and the pillows, spreading them 
on the floor some six feet in front of the girls. Then 
he turned back to Fiona. 

"Ready?"

She nodded. Her heart was hammering. In the next very 
short while she would either achieve their release or 
sign their death warrants. Everything depended on her 
ability to convince this maniac of her docility and 
compliance. Ron released her ankle and led her gently 
to the piled up sleeping bags. 

"Just sit down, sweetheart," he murmured.

"Sweetheart?" Fiona thought. "Good God, has he 
actually convinced himself that I am offering myself 
with "love"?

She sat cross-legged on the "bed". He sat facing her 
but addressed the other girls.

"There is one thing that you should all know," he 
began. "Jenny made a deal with me."

"No," Jenny cried. "I asked you not to tell."

"But I never agreed, did I?" he smiled.

"No, but..."

"Well, then. As I was saying, Jenny made a deal with 
me. She was frightened that I would seriously harm 
you, Fiona. She asked that, if she gave herself to me 
willingly, I would not use physical torture to get 
what I wanted from you. I believe that I have honoured 
that promise. Now I expect you to honour yours."

Sarah was crying at the thought of Jenny's ordeal. 
Fiona was also staring at Jenny with tears in her 
eyes. It made her more determined than ever to make 
Jenny's sacrifice count for something.

She turned her gaze back to Ron. "What do you want me 
to do?" she asked.

"Use your imagination, girl," he answered. "Get me 
hard."

Fiona thought for a moment and then pushed him gently 
backwards until he was stretched out on his back, his 
penis flopping against his leg. She stretched out 
beside him so that her head was beside his groin. 
Reaching out, she took hold of his shaft and began to 
work it gently up and down with her hand until she 
felt it beginning to stiffen. She knelt up and, facing 
his feet, she straddled his chest, bending forward to 
take him into her mouth. 

Ron gasped. He now had her lips sliding over his dick 
and her pussy on full display close to his mouth. Her 
breasts dipped and swayed enticingly with the motion 
of her body. He stretched up and fondled the soft, 
warm flesh, feeling her nipples responding. He paused 
for a moment to grab her hips and pull her body down 
closer. Then he resumed rolling her nipples between 
his fingers as he applied his tongue to her vulva. Her 
head shot up as his tongue started to probe her vagina 
but, after a momentary gasp, she went back to sucking 
him greedily.

He felt her starting to get wet and smelt her 
delicious musk. He was now rock hard. The time had 
come to take her and he told her to change places. She 
lay on her back.

"Spread your legs." He ordered.

She did as he asked, heart pounding. Everything would 
turn on the next sixty seconds. Ron stood looking down 
at her, breasts heaving, her magnificent nipples 
totally erect, her pussy flared wide and her hole open 
and glistening to receive him. He wanted to penetrate 
her to the maximum in one swift thrust. 
 
He knelt between her legs, then reached behind him to 
take one of her ankles in each hand. He pulled her 
legs up on to his shoulders and folded her until her 
knees were almost on her chest. He shuffled forward so 
that he could watch the tip of his raging hard-on 
brush against her clean-shaven pubes. He took a deep 
breath.

Fiona felt his stomach muscles tense and his hold on 
her ankles relax as he prepared to plunge into her 
compliant body. In a flash, she slid her legs along 
his shoulders until her calves were against his neck. 
She crossed her ankles and locked them together behind 
his head, arched her back and straightened her legs. 
She squeezed her calf muscles as hard as she could in 
a crushing scissor-grip on his neck and rolled her 
body violently sideways, propelled by all the pent up 
outrage and disgust that her body could muster. 

Ron's neck remained clamped in the vice of her 
straining calves as his body was thrown violently onto 
the sleeping bags. He could not breathe. He grabbed 
frantically at her legs but, with her ankles locked 
together behind his head, she was too strong for him 
and had the advantage of total surprise. He stared 
into those marvellous green eyes, now glinting with 
hate, and they were the last thing he saw before 
everything went black.

Water splashed into his face and he spluttered into 
consciousness once more. He found that he couldn't 
move. As his head cleared, he realised that he was 
chained spread-eagled, still naked, to the wall. The 
girls were free and three of them – Jenny, Sarah and 
Astrid – were staring at him. They had obviously 
searched everywhere because Jenny and Sarah had found 
their clothes. Astrid was wearing one of his T-shirts 
and a pair of his jeans. Fiona was absent but a few 
moments later, she came into the room, fully dressed, 
with a cell-phone in her hand, a look of total triumph 
on her face. She addressed the others.

"The police are on their way. They'll let our parents 
know that we've been found and arrange for them to 
pick us up at police H.Q. after we've been seen by a 
doctor and answered some questions."

She turned to Ron.

"And you, you sick bastard, if they don't execute you, 
you'll go to jail for the rest of your life and I hope 
some 300 pound biker reams your ass for a month before 
they off you for raping little girls."

Ron wanted to vomit. It was not supposed to end like 
this.

"Give me a break, Red," he protested. "You provoked me 
and at least you're still a virgin!"

A shrill scream startled him. Astrid was shaking, 
wild-eyed.

"You fucking bastard," she yelled. "After what you did 
to us. You... you..."

Words failed her and she looked wildly around the 
room. Her eyes lighted on the box-cutter. She grabbed 
it and slid open the blade. As the others looked on in 
horror, she walked towards Ron and grabbed his penis 
in her left hand, pulling on it as hard as she could. 
Her right hand gripped the gleaming blade and Ron 
screamed as she prepared to sever his cock at the 
root.

Fiona grabbed her arm.

"No, Astrid." she said quietly. "He's not worth the 
trouble you'd be in."

There was a pause as Astrid stood, the knife still 
gripped in her trembling hand. Ron was almost throwing 
up with fear. Then Astrid suddenly dissolved into 
sobs, turned and tossed the knife away. Ron let out a 
huge sigh of relief. In the blink of an eye, Astrid 
whirled back and drove her knee full force into his 
testicles, rupturing them totally. Ron screamed with 
pain and then did throw up.

They left him hanging there and went to meet the 
police vehicles. As Ron dangled in his own carefully 
fashioned restraints, in physical and mental agony, 
one small part of his brain tried to work out what had 
gone wrong. He never did but, had he spent only a few 
more minutes on the Madison Academy website, he might 
have been better prepared, for – under "other 
activities" – he would have read the following:

The state of California has long been a leader in the 
development of wrestling opportunities for women and 
girls. The 1st annual CIF Girls Wrestling Regional 
Tournaments, to be held in two sites during the 
weekend of August 20-21, continues this tradition of 
expansion for women's wrestling.

Madison Academy is proud to announce that, this year, 
we will be hosting the State Finals. Hundreds of high 
school girl wrestlers from all over California will 
come together to test themselves against the best 
female wrestlers in their region in an official state-
sanctioned competition. It marks a big step forward 
for the sport in the state that features the most 
accomplished wrestlers in the entire nation.

This year, the Madison Academy team, which has been 
receiving coaching from former Olympic Champion Greg 
Hatfield at the Landis Street recreational centre, 
will include first place winners from last year's 
tourney, Fiona McNish, sisters Sarah and Jenny 
Franklin and Astrid Johannsen.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 76