“Now I’d like both of you to undress before me please – both of you girls take all of
your clothes off.”
“What! You cannot ……….”
Bang!
“Haaah please….” the beautiful blonde woman, Rosalind, screamed, covering her face with
shaking hands as her friend Maureen’s fat finger bulged over the small trigger of the
handgun which was practically covered by her large hand. At the last minute, Maureen had
shifted the ugly hole of the barrel and pointed the gun through the door of an adjoining
room but the awful sound reverberated back and forth in the large underground cellar
complex where she had taken them. The walls of the rooms were all padded and she guessed
with the tiny part of her brain which was still trying to think rationally that the bullet
had torn itself somewhere into the thick material in the other room. That was certainly
better than the little slug gouging its way into her body. She felt even sicker with
fear, casting anxious glances at Maureen’s loathsome husband, Tom, wishing he was not
staring at her with his cruel eyes, enjoying her terror.
“I’ve told you before ‘girl,’ no talking, none at all or you’ll really, really regret
it. I could have killed you then. Now do exactly as you’re told both of you and you’ll
not get hurt. I tell you what; if you’re shy, face away from each other. Each face an
opposite wall, so I only I can see you. Now, do it please or my finger will twitch again
on this trigger.”
Shaking with fear, Rosalind turned gloomily to one of the padded walls, seeing from the
corner of her eye her friend Alice do the same, her trembling fingers went to the zip of
her jacket. She shuddered in fear and despair wondering how she could be in this mess.
Seeking solace from her terrible predicament, her mind wandered back to earlier that
afternoon.
“Hi girls, want a lift home?”
She and Alice had been shopping earlier that day when, as if by chance, their friend
Maureen had called cheerily to them as they finally made their way down the quiet road to
the bus-stop; neither she nor Alice could drive. Maureen was being driven by her new
husband of the past sixteen months, Tom, and they willingly climbed into the backseat to
escape the rain.
Almost immediately the car was under way Maureen had turned her bulk round in the front
seat to point the small silver gun at them. It looked like some homemade modified
contraption but the sight of it made Rosalind’s belly tense with fear.
“Now if you are very good and obedient, you may live, if not you will die, I am quite
serious. A bullet from this little gun will rip open your bodies like a sack of grain.
“What!…” Rosalind’s mouth had dropped open in shock as had Alice’s beside her. The
smile faded from her pretty face when she saw Maureen’s chilling look - she hadn’t
realised before just how black and impenetrable were Maureen’s small eyes. Her initial
thought that this was some kind of crazy joke thing from her somewhat unpredictable and
boring friend sunk without trace. Maureen looked utterly serious. She wondered how well
she really knew her friend of several years.
“Look at that sweet little pussy.” As she wound down a window Maureen pointed to an old
ginger cat strolling down the winter-dark road as if he owned it.
Bang!
“Meeeooooow,” Maureen had aimed the gun just above the old tom, which yelped and
scampered away at breakneck speed into a hedge in sheer terror as her husband, Tom gunned
the car away.
“You see girls it is very-very important for you to believe that I am serious and that
this isn’t any kind of joke, “Maureen had almost read their minds. “For so long I’ve had
to put up with you two, so called, friends only using me when it suited you. But now I’ve
got some money and a husband with whom I enjoy ... certain ... things. And now it’s
payback time. Turn round in your seat with your backs to me, hands behind you like good
girls. There we go.”
With fear twisting her belly Rosalind watched as Maureen handcuffed Alice’s hands behind
her back, stuffed a gag in her mouth, sealed it with black tape and pulled a bag over her
head. Within a minute Rosalind was herself similarly bound. She felt so helpless and
terrified. Initially she had tried to convince herself that this was some kind of joke,
half expecting a prank reality television host to appear but this was all too serious and
frightening for that. Her friend, good old Maureen who she always took for granted and
used when no one better was around had turned vicious. Thoughts of her own husband and
daughter flashed through her mind. Would she see them again?
She sensed that she was in real danger and felt sick with fear within the claustrophobic
hood as the journey continued for a half an hour before the car stopped and she was pulled
unceremoniously out, filled with fear of the unknown, unable to see, speak or defend
herself in any way, utterly helpless.
They were led stumbling into a building, along corridors and then down steep steps. It
was quite chilly and as several doors were unlocked and locked after them the air was
quite musty. She knew that Maureen and Tom had recently bought a large but dilapidated
old house but she had never been interested enough to visit. She guessed this might be
the place they had now been taken to?
When their bindings were released and the bags pulled from their heads, Rosalind and
Alice found themselves in a large, well-lit cellar room with high ceiling beams and padded
walls, broken only by a large mirror and just a few items of furniture. Maureen was
pointing the gun at them and Tom stood by with arms folded, smirking. Rosalind licked her
lips nervously, never having seen her large friend looking so powerful.
“Now you are mine and you’ll do exactly as I say, I’m deadly serious girls,” Maureen
spoke sharply, jerking Rosalind back from her reflections.
Maureen felt a warm glow suffusing her ample frame as the two lovely women bowed to her
will. It was a feeling of pure power; she loved it.
“Don’t be shy about undressing in front of Tom and I,” she now purred,” and turn your
backs so you don’t look at each other, and remember the no talking rule. Put all of your
things, handbag, watch, jewellery in the bags”, she kicked over a large carrier bag to
each of them.
Maureen smiled to herself after Rosalind and Alice had turned back to back and began
meekly undressing. She and Tom and planned this for ages. They had even exchanged their
neat modern semi in the smart area of town where her victims lived for this large old
place on the wrong side of the tracks. Six months, it had taken them to prepare the
underground cellar, concealed behind a false wall and then wait for the right moment to
catch her two friends alone. Now some of her deepest, darkest fantasies were being
fulfilled. Absolute power, Rosalind and Alice were stripping before her. At last she
would be able to see what others saw in them – and not her.
She drank in their fear as clumsy fingers fumbled with zips and buttons. They looked
fetching in just their dark fishnet tights and underwear, like a cabaret show, but one
based on fear.
“That’s it girls,” she breathed when they were each down to just their bra and pants.” I
bet you feel silly just standing there in your undies, as well as a bit frightened taking
your clothes off like this. It must be horrible to be forced to undress in front of
someone - and that’s exactly what I want you to feel. Oh what pretty little skimpy bras
and pants you wear, much smaller than my size 18s,” she chuckled bitterly. “My, I thought
you’d have matching ones Alice, not different colours. Let’s share this with each other
shall we, just walk around the cellar, follow each other. No, don’t cover yourselves,
hands by your sides, let’s see those bits wiggling.”
Maureen carried on like a film director, ‘til her two friends were stiffly parading
around the room in their underwear for her pleasure – and looking so lovely and
vulnerable, their fear-hardened nipples visible through their bras. “But now I would like
them off too please, everything, naked as nature intended. I know you’re frightened
poppet,” she drank in Rosalind’s wide eyed fear, “but I don’t want to hear anything but
the sound of clothes sliding from flesh. If anyone talks, says even a tiny word, they get
hurt. Back against the wall again and strip stark naked.”
She could feel the moisture between her legs as they both divest themselves of their
last flimsy garments to stand, red faced, covering their shivering nudity with trembling
hands; it was a dream come true.
“Oh why so shy, don’t cover yourselves? I want to look at you. Stand with your hands on
your heads, no moving, no talking,” she demanded. “That’s good girls,” she clapped her
hands as the two beauties blushingly revealed their nude charms, a sheen of fear covering
each trembling body. “And no moving, none at all or you’ll be so sorry at what I do to
you,” she twirled her little homemade gun – with which in reality she would be lucky to
hit a barn door, it just made a lot of noise and fired cardboard blanks. But it had
served its purpose.
They were both exquisite in their own ways she thought. Both women were of a similar
age, blonde Rosalind in her mid thirties and Alice her late twenties. Rosalind was a
little slimmer than brown haired Alice but both were lovely – all of the things she wanted
to be. Their bare breasts rose and fell with their gulping breaths, their bottoms
clenching delicately as she walked behind them each, tapping those firm orbs. How often,
she pondered, had she imagined being able to pat and touch those lovely bums wiggling
under tight jeans or skirts – and now was touching their actual flesh.
Their bodies were both delicious, the result, she guessed, of their frequent toning
trips to the gym. Still, Tom’s small savings, which had been sufficient outlay to arrange
this abduction, would hopefully produce a sufficient return for her to be able to enjoy
such things too.
“Now a pretty picture for the album, no moving girls and oh, just to make it
authentic....” She saw the look of apprehensive horror twitch both sets of pretty features
as Tom donned a mask and stood behind them, cupping each of their bare boobs in his hands
with utter possession. She could guess how much it cost them not to scream or run away.
Although she could easily dominate him, Tom could, she knew, be a bit ... creepy. She
checked the picture. It was fine, the look of fear and utter servility on each face above
their bodies shining with fear was just right. They were so obviously captives or
prisoners against their will. That would serve to back up the initial ransom demand they
would send she decided.
“That’s fine, we’re done with that bit,” she nodded for a relieved Tom to remove his hot
mask. “Now I think ... you first Rosalind,” she cupped the blonde’s heaving boobs, the
nipples deliciously taut with fear like hard berries against her palm. “Tom, make Alice
comfortable in a chair.”
Maureen smiled at the way Rosalind shuddered under her touch, as her hands patted the
delicate bottom; she was so smooth and firm. Meanwhile Tom had grabbed Alice dragging her
without ceremony to one of the sturdy wooden chairs in the cellar.
“Sit on it, facing the backrest,” he shouted into her red, flinching face as she had to
splay her legs to comply, her bare bottom shifting on the hard cold wood. Expertly, such
was his experience in such matters; he twisted and bound her wrists between her shoulders.
After binding her ankles to each leg he completed her bondage with a large woollen scarf
to gag her. “That’s a good girl,” he crooned surveying his handiwork, running a hand down
the curve of her spine to pat the enticing swelling of her hindquarters.
,“Stop covering yourself Rosalind, stand with your hands by your side please,” Maureen
demanded until her lovely blonde friend shyly revealed her body to her gaze. She looked so
modestly vulnerable. “Hmm so that’s what you’ve been keeping to yourself,” the dominatrix
grinned as she ogled the trembling body. “I never realised just how fat you were,” she
lied shamelessly but nevertheless enjoying the further crumpling of the beautiful face as
she fired her barbed comments into her crimson-faced victim. It was great to deflate her
still further no matter how unrealistic the lies she used. It compensated for all the
lies and excuses her two ‘friends’ had used when they had better things to do than be with
her. “Look at that belly and sagging tits,” she prodded the near-flat stomach and still
firm breasts. “Turn around. My, what a fat wobbly arse, as big as mine,” she continued
her outrageous comments whilst secretly delighting in touching the smooth flesh.
“And as for you Alice....” The brown haired woman was almost as beautiful as Rosalind
but anyone standing naked before fully clothed tormentors loses all self-confidence and
esteem. Tears trickled down Alice’s face at the look of mock derision in Maureen’s face
as she peered at her body. “Now I think Tom needs to work his magic again, eh?”
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