Chapter One

Abby Coverley woke slowly and painfully into muffled darkness.

She felt sick and confused and there was a strange lingering chemical tang in the back of her throat. For a few moments she thought as she was in her own bed, except that her bed was not uncomfortable as this. It felt almost as though she was resting huddled up on the bed of straw. She felt cold and there were strange hard things pressing against her skin. Her skin… Gradually she realized was totally naked. Well she often slept naked, but not like this…

She tried to move and sit up but she could not. There was something cold and hard and heavy about her neck weighing her down and she could not lever herself upright because for some reason her arms were folded behind her back and her wrists seemed to be linked together. As she began to struggle and roll about, her back and shoulders ground against what felt like iron bars. She tried to stretch out her legs and her bare feet struck a more of them. There was a metallic clink as she moved her legs. There were heavy cuff and chains dragging on her ankles…

What was happening to her? And why could she not see? Was it dark or had she not got her eyes open? No, they were open, but there was cloth hood of some kind over her head!

Abby tried to scream, to call out, but then she realised that her mouth was plugged by some thing that felt like a rubber stick jammed between her teeth. She tried to bite on it and spit it out but she could not. There were straps holding the thing in place that seemed to be wrapped tightly about her head.

Real fear was gripping her now. This was a nightmare! Please God let it be a nightmare!

What was the last thing that she could remember?

* * *

It was late on a warm summer Saturday night and the five of them were coming down the steps of the Britannia arena with linked arms. There was herself, Suki, Katrina, Jordan and Carlotta. Behind them a big banner read: Embrace the World, together with a globe showing a pair of arms hugging it protectively. The girls had ETW badges pinned to their designer dresses and this was their moment.

On either side were barriers holding back excited fans while over the rooftops they could see the great illuminated ring of the London Eye. Their current boyfriends (a couple of rising young actors, a pop singer, an artist and the son of the business associate was merely a multimillionaire) were following on behind them, all flanked by a posse of half a dozen beefy minders. But the five girls were out in front. After all, they had made this happen. In front of them at the base of the steps was a gaggle of photographers and camera crews but by arrangement they homed in on Traci Morris of WWSN who had been granted this final interview. As agreed Abby would speak for all them.

Traci flashed her professional smile. ‘First, congratulations to you all. Tonight has been a great success.’

‘It has,’ Abby agreed. ‘And we want to thank all those artists and groups who supported us from the bottom of our hearts.’ She waved at the crowd. ‘And of course all of you who came here tonight. We couldn’t have done it without you!’

That brought forth cheers from the crowd while the other girls added their words of appreciation and applauded back.

‘It’s fair to say this has been quite a change of direction for all of you,’ Traci suggested. ‘Over last few years you had your wild times and made headlines for the wrong reasons. Is this a sign that you’re settling down to more serious matters?’

‘Oh, we’re still going to have fun,’ Abby assured her without knowing grin. ‘You can do both, you know.’

‘Is it also true that your families were against your participation at first because some of the organisations you want to support through ETW have been critical of the business practices of their companies?’ Traci asked.

‘Yes at first our families were a bit doubtful. Maybe they didn’t think we could do it properly. But once they saw we were determined and realized what an important cause this was, they got right behind us.’

‘Because of the lives the five of you have led and the power and influence that your families have, and that you are all only children, you’ve sometimes been called “The Princess’s of Capitalism.” What you think of that?’

‘Well that’s just a silly label. Just because we’ve been lucky in our lives doesn’t mean we don’t care about how other people live. Tonight is proof that money can do a lot of good. We’ve raised over thirty million pounds for important causes in the developing world and we expect much more to follow. Anybody who criticizes us had better beat that before they call us any more names!’

‘So what are you going to do now?’

‘It’s been incredibly rewarding but very hard work putting this event on. And once again we want to thank all the staff on the production team for their efforts. Now we’re off on holiday somewhere quiet away from all this and the media… and even you, Traci, for a couple of weeks. So goodbye and thank you…’

The other girls were all waving and blowing kisses at the camera.

‘Thank you…’ Tracy said.

They continued on down the steps to the big black stretched limo which was waiting for them. Wearily but happily they and their friends piled inside. A minder joined the driver in the front seat while the rest of them got into the big black 4x4 escort car. The limousine pulled smoothly away from the arena and out into the nightlit London streets.

Inside the car champagne corks popped… there was laughter and hugs and kisses… Keith was holding her… And then the voices had seemed to get fainter and more distant and it had grown darker and darker…

* * *

Oh God! Where was Keith? Where was everybody?

Abby became aware of muffled grunts and groans and rattling sounds from around her. Were they all trapped like she was? And then she felt a hand take hold of her head and pull the hood off her. She blinked in the sudden flood of light. Gradually her eyes focused…

She was in a small straw-floored cage, barely wider than her shoulders and not quite high enough for her to sit upright or to stretch out in. It was one of a row of five identical cages, each of which held one of the girls. Through the bars she could see that like her they were naked, gagged, collared, hobbled and cuffed. All the restraints were of the same plain metal construction and appeared to have been riveted in place about their necks and limbs, linked together or to hobble chains by padlocks passed through integral “U” rings. She could also see flashes of her friends’ fearful, bloodshot, confused eyes over the bars of rubber that parted their lips.

The doors of the cages were set in their top sides and were hinged at their back ends. The front edge of the doors stopped short of the front corner of each cage leaving a gap just large enough for a head to pass through. These gaps were closed by large long bolts. Above the cages was a long wooden beam supported by heavy uprights at each end. From it hung five sets of chains, one above each cage.

The cages were inside some kind of large canvas tent. Bizarrely its supporting posts were hung with what appeared to be enlarged and mounted pictures and newspaper cuttings. They showed haggard starving children, people fleeing from war zones, devastated fields of sun-baked crops, swathes of freshly felled forest or huge ugly gouges cut into the landscape for mining. All images Abby had become very familiar with over the past few months.

But she didn’t have long to study them because her attention was drawn to the figures standing over them.

There were six of them, all identically dressed in anonymous blue coveralls. From leather belts buckled about their waists hung canes and electric cattle prods. But it was their faces that riveted Abby’s attention, or rather where they should have had faces. Each wore a soft rubber novelty caricature mask, so it seemed that she gazed up into the grotesque features of Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan, George Bush, Jimmy Carter, and Bill Clinton. One only was female: Margaret Thatcher. The figure under the utilitarian coveralls suggested that its wearer might indeed be female.

She spoke. The mask had been slit across its rubber mouth so they could see her lips moving beneath it while living eyes glittered through its hollowed eyeholes. It was also quite tight fitting so as she moved her jaw it took on some sense of unnatural animation.

‘In case you are wondering it is now Sunday morning and you are a long way from London,’ she said. ‘You are prisoners of the Peoples’ Front for Justice and Retribution. You will of course never see our faces or learn are true names. If you like you can think of us by the names of these criminals whose masks we wear. Therefore I am Margaret and they are Ronnie, Dickey, Jimmy, George and Bill. I’m sure you’ll appreciate the irony… Now that you’re all awake will begin with a demonstration to prove that whatever we appear to be, we are perfectly serious.’

She sounded quite well spoken but her words were distorted by an undertone of bitter anger and contempt.

The five men in the ex-president masks stepped up to the cages and pulled back the bolts that closed the gaps in the cage tops. Before the women could react the men had reached down into the cages, grabbed each of them by their hair and pulled their heads and necks upward through these slots, dragging them onto their knees so that their bare breasts ground against the front panels of the cages. Rings on the fronts of their heavy metal collars now dangled down over the top corners of the cages. While still holding them by the hair with one hand the men hooked snaplinks bolted to small plates in the front of the cages onto these rings, securing them kneeling hunched painfully forward with their heads jutting out of the tops of their cages and their collars jammed up under their chins. They twisted their heads round in fear, swivelling their eyes about as they saw their friends properly for the first time. Abby read the expression in their eyes and felt her stomach begin to knot up in terror.

The five masked men unhitched their cattle prods and stepped forward again. Abby found herself gazing up into the rubber face of “Dickey” Nixon.

‘This is what will happen to you if you disobey our orders in any way,’ the woman in the Thatcher mask said.

The men jabbed the cattle prods through the bars of the cages into the girls’ helpless bodies.

It was only their big-muffled mouths that prevented their collective screams of pain from being ear piercing. Abby thought she was being burned and kicked at the same moment as her body convulsed from the fierce jolt of electricity that coursed through it as the twin contacts on the end of the cattle prod jabbed down onto her bare back. If she had not had the rod of rubber between her teeth she would have bitten her tongue through or cracked her teeth. Confined within the cage all she could do was convulse in agony, making its frame rattle. The hard edge of her tethering collar dug into her chin as her body bucked and heaved, grinding her shoulders and hips against the bars. On either side of the other girls were going through similar tormented convulsions while shrieking and sobbing in pain and fear.

Dickey changed the angle of the next thrust of the cattle prod, driving it instead through the bars of the front of the cage and into Abby’s breasts. Behind the idiotic mask living eyes flashed and white teeth were bared in cruel pleasure. The pain was indescribable. Abby was barely aware of the hot pee that spurted from her pussy slot over her thighs into the straw bottom of her cage as she lost control of her bladder. The man jabbed again through the side of the cage into the soft flesh of her hips and then down across her buttocks. She sobbed and squealed while her eyes misted with hot tears and she bounced about within her tiny cage, her body jerking helplessly, grinding her breasts into its front face one moment and then slamming her feet against its back wall the next.

For a full minute this terrible onslaught continued. And then the masked men stepped back and hooked their terrible cattle prods back on their belts. The five young women were left trembling within their cages, their bare bodies shivering and jerking convulsively as their flesh tingled and their over stimulated muscles twitched, while their tear-streaked faces hung over their front edges, their shiny red cheeks showing over their gag-stretched mouths, from around the corners of which leaked trickles of saliva. Their thighs and pussy mounds were wet and the smell of freshly spilt urine began to fill the close atmosphere of the tent.

But terrible as the pain had been it had driven any lingering traces of whatever chemicals had been used on them from their systems. They were fully awake now. Abby had never felt so acutely aware of her surroundings before. Her world had been turned upside-down and now this place and this moment was all that mattered.

Margaret walked briskly along the line of cages, dragging the tip of her cane across the bars as she went. The rattle it made caused them to jerk their heads up in fresh fear. When she knew she had their full attention she said: ‘that was just a small sample of the pain we can inflict on you. And we will do so without hesitation if you do not obey us. Do you understand?’

They nodded desperately, too shocked to think of defiance. Right now she was the master of their universe.

‘Now, in a moment I’m going to take your gags out. You will not waste my time or yours by insulting me or making any threats or begging to be freed, do you understand?’

They nodded once again.

‘You are dirt, you are nothing, you are undeserving parasites sucking the life from the world! Now you’re going to learn what it feels like to be at the very bottom. Like millions of oppressed women you are now going to barter all you have to offer in exchange for food and water. You are going to put those over-fed, pampered bodies of yours to good use. Because once you are permitted to speak you are going to beg to suck the cocks of these men.’

As she spoke the men were pulling apart the Velcro flies of their overalls, freeing heavy ball sacks and stiffening cock shafts which they massaged into straining erection. The caged girls moaned as they stared at them in horror.

‘Don’t look so disgusted, you’re no virginal innocents!’ Margaret snapped contemptuously. ‘I’m sure you’ve all used your mouths this way before to satisfy the desires of your ridiculous boyfriend posers. Well this time you’re going to be swallowing the seed of real men who know what is to labour for their living! If you please them then you will be given a drink of water and something to eat. But even if only one of you fails to please, then they’ll use the prods on all of you again until you learn to try harder. Do you understand?’

They were still so overwhelmed by their new circumstances that they nodded. Revulsion would come later. Right now they would agree to anything rather than feel those terrible prods once more.

The woman went back along the line of cages, pulling the rubber bit gags out from between their teeth. They were strung on thick rubber straps and she let them hang loose beneath their chins.

‘You know what you have to say! Do it!’ She snapped at them.

Fearfully they looked up at the line of masks facing them. ‘Please… I… want to suck your cock…’ they each choked out. Then they opened their mouths in miserable invitation.

The men stepped forward, one to each cage, and rested the fronts of their thighs against the bars. They took hold of the girls’ heads, grasping fistfuls of hair and pulled their open mouths over the ends of their straining penises.

Abby choked and spluttered as her man rammed his cock deep into the back of the throat, using it as he would a vagina. He tugged on her hair, making her bob her head forward and back as though she was pecking on him, each dip ramming the head of his cock into her gullet and making an obscene wet glucking sound, so that she nearly retched and had to gasp for air between his thrusts.

And so, with streaming eyes and cheeks sucking and bulging with strange men’s cocks, they performed their miserable task.

As they did so Margaret walked up and down the row of cages, her eyes shining through her mask. ‘Your privileged lives have been put on hold. You will do this at the start of every day if you want to be fed and watered. After that we will put your bodies to use serving a greater cause. That’s all you’re good for now. That’s the only way you’re going to survive!’

Abby gagged as the man using her spurted his hot ejaculate into the back of the throat and desperately she swallowed it down. Around she could hear the miserable gasps and gulps of her friends as they did the same. One by one the stiff shafts were pulled from between their reluctant lips, dripping their seed. Still keeping hold of the women’s hair, the men used handfuls of it like cloths to wipe their shafts clean before stepping back and tucking their now satiated members away once more. Now the smell of male sperm mingled with that of spilt urine in the air.

The girls hung their heads in shame. But Katrina was also muttering through gritted teeth under her breath. Margaret pounced on her, flicking the tip of her cane across Katrina’s cheek, leaving a burning mark across it.

‘What are you saying, girl?’

Katrina lifted her head, her dark eyes filling with deep hatred. ‘Do you know who I am? For this insult my father will hunt you down and… ahhhh!’

Margaret had jabbed the tip of her cattle prod through the bars into Katrina’s plump breasts where it cracked and spat sparks. With her collar hooked to the outside of the bars Katrina could not pull away. Margaret held it there while Katrina writhed and jerked and howled in pain.

‘Do I know who you are?’ she shouted above Katrina’s wails. ‘I know exactly who you all are! That’s why you’re here!’

‘Stop it!’ Abby called out. ‘You’re killing her!’

‘She was warned. If she is too stupid to keep her mouth shut then she knows the penalty!’ She pulled the prod out of Katrina’s breast and waved at the men. ‘Get them out onto the cages…’’

They opened the tops of the cages, unhooked their collars and pulled them up right. Hooks on the ends of the dangling chains were clipped to rings on the rear of their collars. Then the chains were hauled upward and shortened, forcing the girls to stand on tiptoe on their still stiff legs and then scrabble at the cage bars for support. In a few seconds they were standing with their legs spread and their feet resting precariously on the narrow top edges of the cage sides. Their ankle chain hobbles just had enough slack in them to span the gap.

Margaret paraded along the line of their trembling, naked bodies, looking up at each of them with a strange attitude of contempt and covetousness. She unhooked her cane again and flicked it across their soft flesh, making them shiver as they struggled to maintain their balance.

She came to Carlotta and ran her cane tip up her smooth brown inner thighs until it reached her mound of Venus.

‘You are Carlotta Torres, a Brazilian, and twenty-three years old. Your father is Rodrigo. He is the director of the Para Lombas Company, principally involved in mining and logging…’

Carlotta had vivacious Latin looks. Her skin was creamy brown and she had thick black hair, deep brown direct eyes, a wide sensuous mouth and a firm nose with flared nostrils. Her breasts were full and proud, capped by dark brown nipples. She had fleshy buttocks and strong legs. A wedge of tight black trimmed curls framed her deep dark pubic gash.

Margaret moved along to Abby, who shivered as the cane tip flicked across her nipples, which responded by stiffening embarrassingly.

‘You are Abigail Coverley, British, age twenty-two. Your father is Sir Terence and he is the director and principal shareholder of Cumberland Holdings, a portfolio company with many interests in the banking and financial sectors…’

Abby had long brunette hair, a high forehead, dark bold brows, blue eyes and a slightly up-tilted nose. Her mouth was wide set above a determined chain. Her skin was clear and pale which accentuated her round pink nipples that capped her neat but prominent breasts. Her buttocks were smooth and tight and she had lean thighs. Soft dark curls were trimmed back from her deep pussy cleft.

Next came Jordan.

‘You are Jordan Armstrong, American, age twenty-two,’ Margaret said. ‘Your father is Wesley Jonathan. He is the director of Armstrong, Bright Ames Inc, an aerospace and military technology company…’

Jordan had blonde curling hair, blue eyes, a neat chin and amused lips. Her skin had a perfect light golden tan. She had high pale breasts with neat round pink nipples with plump teat tips. Her bottom was smooth and flawless. A thin fuzz of gold pubic curls framed her pouting pink sex mouth.

Margaret moved onto Suki.

‘You are Suki Takashima, Japanese. You are twenty years old. The father is named Hideo. He runs Matisumi, a computing and robotics company…’

Suki had black hair with dyed silver highlights, pale olive tinted skin and a neat smooth heart-shaped face with clear dark oriental epicanthic eyes. She had small high breasts, pale brown nipples, apple-tight buttocks, girlishly rounded legs and a thin wispy crest of black pubic hair over her tight pouting pubic mound.

Finally Margaret came to Katrina. She was still trembling from her prodding and she turned her eyes away from her in shame. A warning flick of Margaret’s cane up between Katrina’s legs regained her attention.

‘Right now I am the most important person in your life and you will look at me when I’m talking to you!’ Margaret commanded.

Miserably Katrina obeyed.

‘You are Katrina Davlenko, Russian, aged twenty four,’ Margaret rapped out. ‘Your father is Nikolay and he is the owner of Eastern Dynamo, a company with interests in oil, pipelines, refineries and generating plants…’

Katrina had a thick mane of brunette hair, a strong proud nose, bold eyebrows and brown eyes. Her upper lip was sensuously curled back. She had a large pale breasts capped with brown nipples. Her wide hips made her waist look narrower than it was. She had strong thighs and fleshy buttocks. A dark cropped pubic delta capped the plump mound of her sex, cut through with the deep pink gash of her lovemouth.

Margaret stood back and looked along the line of them. ‘This is your last warning. You will not make any further threats or waste time pleading for your release. Neither will do you any good. As stupid as you are, you must by now have realized that this has all been carefully planned. You will not be found or released before you have served your purpose.’

They were all still terrified but there was a fear even greater than that for her own safety that bubbled up inside Abby, which she had to voice. ‘Please… what about everybody else who was with us in the limo?’

‘Yes, what have you done with them?’ Carlotta said.

Margaret said: ‘At least you have some concern for others apart from yourselves. Don’t worry. Your parasite boyfriends and your parents’ hired thugs were not harmed. They were knocked out by the same gas we used to incapacitate you and then dumped. By now they’ll have recovered fully. You were always our sole targets because by a chance accident of birth you are all worth a lot of money.’

Abby thought she could believe her. The woman seemed utterly fixated on them to exclusion of everything else. She just hoped Keith was all right…

‘So, you’ve kidnapped us for ransom?’ Jordan said, recovering a little of her normal spirit. ‘You talk like we’re the scum of the earth for having money but you don’t seem against trying to get a little of it for yourselves.’

‘Of course we want your money, but not for us,’ Margaret said with contempt. She spun about and jabbed a cane at the pictures hanging on the tent walls. ‘It’s for those people and their ruined lands! The ones your family companies and their agents have oppressed and exploited for so many years!’

‘But those are the people we’ve been trying to help,’ Abby said in despair. ‘We just held the Embrace the World show for them!’

‘That raised over fifty million dollars,’ Suki added in her clear precise English. ‘How can that not be good to?’

Margaret sprang back to them and began swinging her cane up between their spread legs so that it cut into the soft defenceless clefts of their pussies.

They shrieked and howled in fresh pain, trying to clench their thighs together to block access to those most sensitive orifices. But doing so caused then to teeter about on the edges of the cage walls slipping and losing their balance. The beam chains jerked taut pulling their heavy collars up under their chins, forcing them to regain their footholds or choke. They had no choice but to stand with open legs, swaying and twisting about, accepting the terrible stinging blows on their helpless vulvas.

As she struck them again and again Margaret said: ‘millions are an insult when your families control companies worth billions! And that’s what we are going to demand for your safe return: one billion dollars each!’