CHAPTER ONE
Early on a bright summer’s afternoon Natasha turned into the drive of Egnever House.
Before her at the end of a sweep of gravel was an elegant Edwardian mansion, standing
foursquare in its secluded grounds. She parked her metallic purple convertible beside a
silver Mercedes saloon already standing in front of house, the only other vehicle in
sight. Good, she was one of the first to arrive. She checked her watch: 2:27. The
invitation, which thoughtfully incorporated a detailed road map, had been most specific
about punctuality. She was expected at 2:30.
Natasha examined her face in the mirror and adjusted the band that tied back her
flowing shoulder length blonde hair, smiling in approval at her reflection. She had
arching, inquisitive eyebrows, a firm straight nose, dark blue eyes, good cheekbones and
golden toned skin. She was a very attractive twenty-three year old woman and knew it, but
was her costume right? She was wearing a light scoop-necked summer two-piece dress and
skirt with all the best labels but was it too casual for the occasion? Should she put on
the matching jacket? She was still a little unsure about the exact tone of the gathering.
Egnever House was hosting a reunion of Granstead Priory students arranged by an old
head girl with a view to forming an exclusive society for promoting mutual social and
business benefits. Natasha had only learned of its existence a month ago, being
recommendation only and highly selective. Before being invited she even had to respond to
a detailed questionnaire about views on life and times at school. Since anything that
might increase her networking opportunities and social standing was worth pursuing,
Natasha had of course replied, carefully adjusting her answers to give the most flattering
impression of her time at Granstead.
Checking her watch again, Natasha assumed the air of confident self-assurance that
all Granstead girls were expected to present to the world, gathered up her bag and
invitation card and got out of her car, smoothing down her dress over her neat, trim
figure. As she approached the flight of steps leading up to the front door, it was swung
wide to reveal a stocky young man in an immaculate white jacket. His short-cropped hair
was stylishly bleached and sculpted and he wore small round blue-tinted glasses.
‘Good afternoon, madam,’ he said smoothly, inclining his head a fraction. ‘Are you
expected?’
‘Natasha Sellbridge,’ Natasha said, holding out her invitation.
He examined it for a moment then smiled dazzlingly. ‘Welcome to Egnever House,
Miss Sellbridge.’ He touched the name badge pinned to his jacket that read: RICK FREED
‘I am Rick. Please step this way…’ He stood aside and bowed her into the large cool
hallway.
Rich rugs overlaid polished wood floors. A grand staircase wound its way to the
upper levels. In its well was a freestanding folding display stand on which were mounted
several images of Granstead Priory and its staff, including some black and white
reproductions clearly from years past. Before the stand were set out a couple of chairs
and a table with champagne cooling on ice and a tray of glasses. From behind the closed
door of a room to the right came a muted babble of conversation.
‘I will take care of your baggage in a moment, Miss Sellbridge,’ Rick said,
ushering her over to a chair. On an occasional table beside it was a single sheet of
paper and a pen. ‘But before joining the others in the lounge, Miss Sisemen has asked
that you answer a final supplementary question, which I am to take through to her.
Meanwhile, may I fetch you a drink?’
Natasha nodded absently, frowning at the paper before her. Another question?
There was a single line of type and a large blank space: Is there any single thing I
regret doing while at Granstead that I wish I could change?
‘What’s this meant to mean?’ she demanded as Rick attended to the champagne.
‘I do not as yet make the rules, Miss Sellbridge. I can only advise, from what I
know of Angela Sisemen, that it would be best to follow your conscience and answer
honestly.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do!’ Natasha snapped.
‘I would not dream of it, Miss Sellbridge.’
Was all this supposed to be a test, Natasha wondered? She’d better play safe.
Under the question she wrote: I wish I could have been kinder and more helpful to the
younger girls. She handed the paper to Rick with an angry glare. He glanced over it,
nodded and handed her a sparkling glass. As she drank he crossed to the lounge and
slipped inside.
A minute passed. Natasha began to feel annoyed. What sort of society was this who
left its guests in the hall with the hired help? Where was this Angela Sisemen? The hall
was getting hot and airless. She started to rise from her chair only to drop back as a
wave of dizziness washed over her.
Rick emerged from the lounge.
‘I’m… not feeling well,’ Natasha groaned, her voice sounding alarmingly feeble.
‘Oh dear, Miss Sellbridge,’ Rick said, crossing over to peer closely at her. ‘It
could be the heat…’ The room was spinning and getting darker about Natasha ‘…but it’s
more likely the drug I put in your champagne…’
Rick looked down at Natasha’s still figure slumped in the chair for a moment, breathing
heavily as he contemplated her features. Then he slapped her face first one side and then
the other, hard enough to leave livid imprints of his palm on her golden skin. Natasha
moaned slightly but did not open her eyes.
‘You never recognized me for a moment, did you, you selfish bitch!’ he said
wonderingly.
Rick picked up Natasha’s bag, removed her car keys, found her cell phone and
switched it off. Then he hauled Natasha to her feet, threw her over his shoulder and
carried her through a door at the end of the hall, along a short corridor and into the
large kitchen at the back of the house. Its floor and central sturdy worktable had been
covered with sheets of black plastic. On the table were a stack of bin bags, four seaside
buckets with chains attached to their handles and a selection of plug-gags and goggle
blindfolds. Arranged in a row to one side of the table stood four sets of grocers’ wheels
of the sort used to deliver sacks and crates. Lengths of metal tube had been bolted to
the wheel frames, extending them upwards above their handles, providing support for sets
of restraining straps and cuffs on stout chains.
Laying Natasha on her back on the table, Rick put her handbag into one of the
rubbish sacks and then gagged and blindfolded her, smiling as her eyes and lips were
concealed by the disks and bands of heavy black rubber that contrasted so starkly with her
blushing cheeks and golden skin. She couldn’t quell him with a contemptuous glance or
acid words anymore. From now on he decided if and when she would be permitted to see or
speak to him. She had been reduced to an anonymous pretty body.
Methodically he stripped her, rolling her limp body from side to side as he opened
buttons and slid down bands of elastic. Expensive sandals, dress and lacy underwear all
went into the rubbish bag. She would not need them where she was going.
Finally Natasha lay sprawled on her back naked on the table, her golden body stark
against the black sheeting. Rick ran his hands over her bare flesh, drinking in its
perfumed heat, watching the perfectly neat rounded mounds of her breasts, capped by little
russet nipple cones, rising and falling slowly. Her waist was tight, her navel round.
Her darker pubic hair had been trimmed back to a narrow strip, highlighted by a pale
triangle of bikini shadow. The tips of her inner labia protruded almost carelessly from
her cleft.
Entranced, Rick slid his hand between her thighs, feeling the humid warmth trapped
between them. He bent over and sniffed that intimate orifice, smelling expensive perfume
mingled with female musk. He rolled her onto her front and examined her bottom. It was
peach-perfect in its smooth rotundity. He pried her cheeks apart and examined the tight
pucker of her anus, tracing its contours. I’m fingering Natasha Sellbridge’s bumhole and
she can’t stop me, he thought exultantly.
His cock was straining in his trousers by now. How long since he’d been this hard? The
things he wanted to do to her! But did he have time? He had to stick to the plan. He’d
be a fool to spoil things now. But how could he deny his need after all these years?
Restrain her first and then see!
Rick hauled Natasha off the table and over to the nearest of the modified sets of
grocery wheels, setting her feet down on its base plate. She flopped over his shoulder
until he got a broad strap round her waist and another about her neck, holding her head in
place between the two uprights. Then he was able to cuff her wrists down to her sides and
put another strap across her chest and upper arms, passing just under her breasts. He
raised and bent first one of her legs and then the other until her knees nearly touched
the undersides of her breasts. He secured her legs with broad cuffs about her thighs just
above the knees that hung from adjustable chains hooked to the supporting frame above her
shoulders. A second set of cuffs went round her ankles and their chains were drawn back
to clip to the frame by her wrists.
Natasha hung open and utterly defenceless before him, her hips lifted and bent up about
her waist strap, her crooked legs splayed wide, offering the cleft pouch of her pubes and
even the clenched bronze eye of her anus for his delectation. Panting, Rick checked his
watch. There was time.
He tore open his flies, freeing his rock-hard shaft, hooked his thumbs into Natasha’s
vulva, parted her lips and rammed into her. She was not wet or aroused and he had to
force his way in, opening up her passage with his cockhead. But he was inside Natasha
Sellbridge!
Such was his excitement that half a dozen thrusts were all it took for him to come. He
gasped at the intensity of it, clinging onto his unconscious captive for support. Oh,
yes, he’d needed to do that for so long… so very long!
After a minute he withdrew his still hard cock. He could have done it again but the
urgency had been taken off his lust. Anyway, he’d save that for the others. Yes, he’d
screw them one at a time. He could do it. He could do anything he wanted now, unlike
Natasha. He contemplated her lovely body hanging in its bonds. When the drug wore off
and she woke she would know she was exposed and feel the soreness where he had used her.
His sperm would still be tricking out of her vagina. Then she would understand what it
felt like to be abused and helpless.
Rick tided himself up, closed the door of the kitchen behind him and returned to the
hall. There he cleaned Natasha’s glass, put a fresh bottle of champagne in ice and a new
question slip on the table and waited for the next arrival. All this time the sound of
party chatter had continued undiminished from the lounge.
At 3:36, a classic red Porsche sped up the driveway and pulled up beside the other two
cars. A young brunette woman wearing a short-sleeved blouse, floral print skirt and
matching scarf climbed out. As she strode up to the front door her skirt flowed about her
slinky, curvaceous figure.
‘Ruth Cardemon,’ she announced after Rick had obsequiously enquired. She had
petulant, sultry lips that she held slightly parted at though in slight surprise, showing
very white upper incisors, dark mischievous eyes with veiled lashes and straight dark
brows. The tip of her nose very slightly uptilted. ‘I’m a few minutes late. Bloody road
works!’
‘Not to worry, Miss Cardemon,’ Rick smiled, glancing over the 3:30 clearly marked
on her card. ‘I’m Rick Freed. Please come in… Miss Sisemen has one request before you
meet her that requires an honest answer…’
Ruth frowned at the supplementary question for a moment, then a look of calculation
passed over her face and she wrote: I would have liked to have been involved in more
school community work.
‘Of course you would have, Miss Cardemon,’ Rick said taking the slip of paper.
‘Here is your drink…’
Ruth slipped peacefully into unconsciousness without any fuss. Rick sneered down
at her as he tore up her reply. ‘You: community work!’
Ten minutes later Ruth also lay gagged, blindfolded and naked on the kitchen table. She
was pinker skinned, slightly fleshier and full-bodied than Natasha, with broader hips and
heavier breasts. Her nipples were larger with distinct dome tips in contrast to Natasha’s
cones. Her pubic bush was darker but trimmed away from her labia. There was a suggestive
tightness about her mound as though even at rest it was pouting provocatively. Entranced,
Rick stroked her pussy and then toyed with her slot, smelling her musk on his fingers.
Rick hauled her over to the set of wheels beside Natasha and secured her in the same
way, hitched up and splayed. When he stepped back he saw her pubes were parted and her
vaginal mouth was showing as a dark crinkled hole. Had he roused her or was she always
like that? What a tart!
He checked his watch. Just time enough…
Seven minutes later he close the kitchen door, leaving Ruth’s gaping vagina flushed
and wet and a stain forming on the floor beneath her crotch to match that under Natasha’s.
At 4:22 a compact black four by four roared up the drive. The driver was revealed as a
strawberry blonde in expensive clinging jeans and a blue-patterned gypsy blouse. She
looked thoughtfully at Ruth’s Porsche before striding up to the door. She had hazel eyes
and pale lightly freckled skin to compliment her wild tumble of fiery hair, a firm nose
with arching nostrils, light brows and shapely lips. Large rounded breasts showed
through her blouse.
‘Katherine Parham-White,’ she announced briskly to Rick. ‘Is that Ruth Cardemon’s old
Porsche? Is she here as well? I haven’t seen her for ages…’
‘I really can’t say, Miss Parham-White,’ Rick said smoothly, after he had introduced
himself. ‘If you’ll just step this way there’s one small detail to be taken care off…’
Katherine glanced impatiently at the final question. ‘Do I really have to write it
down? That’s stupid! Why can’t I just tell Miss Sisemen?’ She looked at the lounge door
from behind which the party chatter issued. ‘Is she in there?’
‘Miss Sisemen is very particular about certain formalities, Miss Parham-White,’ Rick
said politely but firmly. ‘Here is your drink. I urge you to give the question serious
thought.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Certain guests who arrived earlier did not do so and
I’m sure will soon come to regret it.’
Katherine looked haughtily down her nose at him. ‘I don’t take advice from waiters!
You tell Miss Sisemen that the only thing I regret about my time at Granstead is our
losing the Inter School Hockey cup in my last year to Farnsworth!’ And she gulped down a
mouthful of champagne.
Rick shrugged. ‘As you wish, Miss Parham-White. Please wait here…’
He slipped into the lounge, but as he tried to close the door Katherine had followed at
his heels and pushed it open, saying loudly: ‘Your man’s trying to keep me out here for
some stupid…’
Her words trailed away. The elegant room was empty of people. The party noises were
coming from the speakers of a large sound system.
‘What the fuck’s going on?’ Katherine exploded, rounding on Rick. ‘Is this a joke? Did
Ruth put you up to this? The cow! I bet she did just to…’ She swayed and grabbed the
door for support. ‘What the… oh shit! I’m not…’ Her eyes widened and she dropped the
glass. ‘There’s something in it…’
Rick caught her as she collapsed. ‘And if you’d been less of a stuck up bitch you might
not have drunk it!’
Twelve minutes later Katherine was gagged, blindfolded and strung up wide-splayed on a
set of wheels beside Natasha and Ruth while Rick screwed her with vicious delight, the
force of his thrusts making the frame rock and setting Katherine’s breasts wobbling. She
had larger breasts than the other two girls, hanging heavily but still plaint and proud,
capped by distinct light pink nipples. Her bottom cheeks were fleshier and pubes only
lightly trimmed. Scattered freckles adorned her pale skin.
And now it was all his to do with as he wished.
With a grunt of triumph Rick spurted deep inside Katherine’s pussy, then sagged against
the soft warm flesh of his latest capture, resting his cheek on the pillows of her tits.
He felt dizzy from his exertions but not yet totally drained. It was almost as though
he’d been saving up his spunk for years just for this moment, as in a way he had. As long
as there was some left for the last of the set, he thought.
As he cleaned himself up he saw Natasha was stirring slightly. The drug was wearing off
and she was beginning to come round. The dose he’d given had lasted a good couple of
hours. He could afford to use a little less with the last one. Meanwhile let her
struggle futilely, he thought with a grin. It was something she’d have to get used to.
Rick changed his white jacket for a black one that had been hung up in a dry cleaning
bag on the back of the kitchen door, and then left the house, carefully locking up behind
him. He got into the silver Mercedes. There was a peaked chauffeur’s cap resting on the
passenger seat, together with a neatly lettered sign on a strip of white card that read:
MACBRIDE.
Cordelia MacBride descended from the 5:27, which had finally arrived at 5:53, and looked
about her with distaste at the small country station. She was dressed in a cool but
purposeful stone coloured trouser suit that did not conceal the swell of her full breasts.
A spectacular long mane of honey-dark hair hung down to the small of her back. She had
a firm jaw line and strong cheekbones that emphasised a non-nonsense gaze that belied her
years, softened only by the slightly scooped bridge of her nose.
Her mood was lifted slightly by the appearance of neatly attired chauffeur holding her
name card. ‘Miss MacBride?’ he asked obsequiously. ‘I’m Rick Freed, Miss. Let me get
your bags… the car’s just outside…’
A few minutes later Cordelia was seated comfortably in the back of the Mercedes as it
purred along the country lanes. She caught sight of the supplementary question lying on
the seat beside her.
‘What’s this?’ she demanded.
‘Miss Sisemen requested that you fill it in before we reach the house.’
Cordelia snorted. ‘What should I have to regret about my time at Granstead?’
‘We all have regrets, Miss MacBride.’
‘Well as far as I’m concerned it was the best school in the country, as Miss Sisemen
should know for herself!’
‘Of course, Miss. There’s champagne on ice in the cool box behind the passenger seat…’
Cordelia was getting drowsy as they turned into drive.
Irritably, slurring her words, she asked: ‘What kind… of stupid name is Egg…
Egnever House anyway?’
‘It makes sense if you read it backwards, Miss,’ Rick explained. But there was no
reply except for the tinkle of breaking glass.
Pulling up halfway down the drive Rick got out, jogged back to the gate, swung it
closed and pulled the EGNEVER HOUSE sign off the smaller sign over which it had been hung.
That read: HOLMBURY PARK.
The trap was closed, but his revenge had only just begun.
CHAPTER TWO
Cordelia had a fine, strong, evenly tanned body with high, full rounded breasts crowned
by distinct womanly neat brown nipples. Her waist was trim, her bottom smooth and her
pubes closely trimmed. Once he had her stripped naked, gagged and blindfolded he strung
her up on the last set of wheels. As an afterthought he tied her spectacular mane of hair
to a crossbar.
By now both Natasha and Ruth had come round and were whimpering behind their gags and
straining against their straps and chains, no doubt alarmed to feel how exposed they were
and wondering who had taken advantage of their defenceless state while they had been
unconscious. They could probably hear him moving about the kitchen but little else.
Well they’d just have to simmer for a little while longer. He wanted them all awake and
attentive before any explanations.
With the immediate constraints of his schedule relaxed, Rick took his time screwing
Cordelia, easing into her tight, juicy cunt, caressing and squeezing her breasts, pinching
her nipples and letting his climax build. He wanted to do a thorough job and establish
his mastery over her from the beginning. She had always been the toughest of the four.
If such a collection of self-centred bitches could ever be said to have a leader, she was
it. If he could break her, he could break any of them.
His final ejaculation left him aching and drained but content. In less than five hours
he had emptied his balls into his captives. But it had been worth it. Who else had ever
had four such beauties in such a short space of time?
While waiting for Cordelia and Katherine to recover, Rick began tidying up. Hanging on
the back of the kitchen door was a set of gloves and overalls, which he changed into,
carefully bagging up the other clothes he had worn that day. Gathering up the car keys he
had taken from his first three captures he went outside.
He drove the Mercedes round to the back of the house where, shielded from the road,
a dark blue pantechnicon was parked on an area of hard paving. Opening up the back of the
van he lowered its loading ramp and walked up into the spacious compartment.
Most of the floor space was taken up with a double length platform similar to that of
the upper deck of car transporters, fitted out with heavy bracing straps and supported by
four pillar screw jacks standing taller than his head and bolted to the van chassis. The
platform was currently resting on the floor of the van. Rick pulled out a pair of wheel
channels over the rear tail ramp and then carefully drove the Mercedes up them and along
to the end of the platform. Then he drove round Natasha’s purple Micra and steered it up
into place behind the Merc. Securing the vehicles he operated the jacks and raised the
platform up into the roof, opening up the floor to take Ruth’s Porsche and finally
Katherine’s four by four. Taking up a large rake that had been stowed in a rack by the
tail of the van he went out and raked over the gravel where the cars had stood. Unless a
passer-by recalled seeing them turn in through the gates there was now no sign they had
ever been there.
He would wait until dark before leaving in the pantechnicon so there was less chance of
him being seen on the road. Even then, who would link an old removal van with the cars of
three greedy, gullible young women?
Back in the house he carefully cleared up everything he had brought into the hall
and lounge, removing the drinks table, Granstead display stand and sound system and
stowing them in the van. Every surface he or the girls might have touched he wiped down.
He had taken precautions against any link being made between Holmbury Park and his four
captives, but he was just making sure.
Returning to the kitchen Rick found Katherine had recovered and was making angry noises
while Cordelia was stirring feebly. He moved the wheels round into a semi-circle so they
could see both each other and him when he removed their blindfolds. His caused them to
redouble their struggles and gurgles of protest, but he waited patiently, munching on a
sandwich and admiring the way they kept straining to close their legs, until he was sure
Cordelia was fully conscious and aware of her surroundings. Then he took down a rubber
paddle blade on a long handle that he had hung behind the kitchen door, swished it through
the air a few times, and then said loudly:
‘Now listen to me! This is what’s going to happen next…’
For a second or two they ceased their struggles as he spoke, then they began jerking and
whining furiously. That wouldn’t do. Time to acquaint them with the new realities of
their lives.
Rick swiped the paddle across the arc of four naked upturned groins. Flesh and rubber
met with resounding cracks. Their bulging pubic mounds received as much of the impact as
their taut buttocks. Rick swung again and again, belabouring them mercilessly, not
holding back his arm. The paddle smacked and stung ferociously without breaking the skin,
inflicting copious amounts of pain without causing lasting damage, at least not
physically. He only ceased when their bottoms and pubes were solid blazes of scarlet,
their wails and sobs filled the air, and he could see tears leaking out from under their
blindfolds.
‘You’re even more stupid than I remember,’ he said with contempt. ‘Now we’ll try this
again. I’m going to speak and you’re going to listen without interrupting. It’s just
like the rules at school, except you were never very good at following rules that didn’t
suit you. But you will obey them now or else I’ll tan your backsides until they bleed,
got it? I said, HAVE YOU GOT IT!’
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