Snatched (8 page)

Leah’s yells were instantly muffled as the woman sat back down and ground into her face while the other nipple was seized and given the same fate. The hurt spread through Leah and made her glow. She thrust her tongue in deep and sucked the swollen pussy lips with passion.

‘Bring your knees up and open your legs wide, as if you were giving birth.’

Leah instantly obeyed, desperate now for her own needs to be attended to. As she pushed her hips up, she felt a cool touch flat against her crotch. Unquestionably it was the tip of the riding crop. She was far too gone for this to scare her and instead her hips continued to rise up as an invitation to the pain. The first impact was a sharp tap direct to the swell of flesh hiding her clitoris. She shrieked with surprise and alarm, but already she was yearning for the next stroke. The same spot was hit again, with more force this time. She jerked and bit her lip as the shock shot up the centre of her body. It was wonderful.

The woman grabbed Leah behind one knee and brought it further back in order to access the pussy in full. A succession of slaps stung the delicate spread of her lips. The hurt intensified but never outweighed Leah’s exhilaration at having her cunt whipped by a Mistress. She knew her juices were oiling the bum-shaped tip of the crop. She tried to picture how her quim looked as it bounced under the blows. Her pleasure began to outstrip the smarting contact and she was able to resume her tongue-work with renewed vigour. This brought an instant reaction from the woman, who was already gasping with the delight of dishing out her punishment and now began to cry out noisily as she squashed her fat arse into Leah face.

The punishment was forgotten as Gwendolen threw the crop aside and began frantically rubbing at her own clit. Leah pushed through her own fatigue and lapped and sucked and plunged as furiously as possible. Suddenly her face was being bathed and the woman was shaking on top of her. Leah opened her mouth wide and drank the cream, licking into the flow and feeling it slide down her throat. Her Mistress’s hips jerked back and forth as she came in endless waves. Eventually she sank her full weight down and stayed there as the orgasm faded, threatening to suffocate Leah with her smothering bottom. Eventually the panicked yelps and thrashing legs below brought the woman to her senses and she slowly dismounted and stood on unsteady legs.

Gwendolen took a while to come out of her daze. She stirred her middle finger around inside her pussy and then brought it up to her mouth to taste her own juices. Leah was desperately hoping that it was her turn now and that she would be rewarded for taking her punishment so well. To her utter disappointment she watched the woman slowly pull her skirt back over her hips and lean over to reclaim the crop from the bed.

‘Listen to me now, my pretty,’ she said. ‘For the moment you are still confined to this room, and that includes staying out of the bathroom. If you need to go, you can do it in the soup bowl. I will send up your magazines in a little while and bring your tea up at six. In the meantime you are permitted to do as you wish.’

Leah nodded her thanks but her spirits were sinking with the knowledge that the woman was about to leave, and she almost broke into tears of frustration as her Mistress duly departed. She unclipped the pegs from her aching nipples and used her own spit to soothe them as the flesh distended. Her eyes were fixed on the carrot lying dormant at the foot of the bed. It was too cruel. She had been given leave to do as she wished by her Mistress, and she was staring at an object that could surely satisfy her yearning needs. Yet there was no quilt to hide under, and the en suite was out of bounds. If she wanted to masturbate it would therefore have to be in full view of the cameras.

She pulled on her T-shirt and wandered around aimlessly, hoping that her lusts would abate and spare her more humiliation. In the back of her mind, though, she already knew her decision was inevitable. Her face was covered with the scent of her Mistress’s holes and it was driving her to distraction. All she could think about was that glorious bottom on her face and the incredible sensations of her punishment. She crossed the floor to see in the wardrobe mirror just how red and flustered she looked. There were traces of Gwendolen’s come on her cheeks and chin and she could still taste her with absolute clarity.

The wardrobe was very big indeed, easily big enough to fit inside. Leah felt her face start to crumple at her plight. Was it more degrading to rub yourself off in front of the whole household, or grab a vegetable and hide inside a piece of furniture to go about your business? It would be much harder to do it standing inside the robe but the thought of Huw watching while she frigged herself was mortifying.

Tentatively, she slid the left-hand door to one side and saw the interior halogen light of the robe flick on. It was massive inside but shelved all the way down. She went to the other end and tried that, only to find it also compartmentalised. She slid across the mirror door of the centre section and her heart started to beat faster. It was empty, except for a hanging rail. There was easily enough height clearance and plenty of room to fit several people inside. The potential was still filling her mind when she spotted the little black tube in the top corner above her head, pointing downwards into the interior. She focused hard and felt her disappointment drip over her as she spotted the mini lens. Astonishingly, it was another camera.

She came away in tears, hating Gwendolen for leaving her like this. Why would none of them come and fuck her? She went back to the bed and stripped off her top once more. Maybe if they saw her naked they would be unable to resist. Leah was praying for May to see her, to want her so much that she would come and save her from the indignity of having to diddle herself with a carrot. She lay on the bed but couldn’t stop her hands from immediately wandering over her body. She was giving up the ghost when she heard more footsteps outside her room.

The door partially opened and a slender hand came through the gap and carelessly threw a stack of magazines untidily across the floor. The door shut and the footsteps receded. Two minutes later they returned, filling Leah with fresh hope. The door opened as before but this time a stack of books was carefully placed on the floor and pushed into the room. She knew for certain that while April had made the first delivery, it was definitely now May hidden behind the door. Leah’s chest was thumping as she silently begged the girl to come in and take her now. She had never wanted anyone more in her whole life.
Please come
, her heart was screaming,
I need you to come to me.
But the door clicked shut and the chance had gone.

With tears now rolling down her face she leant forward and grabbed the carrot. Her mind was full of the younger twin and Gwendolen’s backside. She had tasted her first pussy and now she wanted more; she wanted May’s. She yelled as the vegetable sank unhindered into the depths of her pussy and squelched her juices onto her hand. She masturbated wantonly, glad of the cameras, hoping that May was watching and wishing that the girl could also see inside her head. Leah pictured the young twin coming into the room to find her wanking. She would strip off her clothes and sit her peachy little bum down onto her face. Leah could imagine how tight she would be, how delicious she would taste, how sweet she would smell. She would lick her, make her come harder than ever before, and make her love her. Then Mistress Gwen would come in and spank both their bums red, and confine them to their room, together.

Her orgasm was huge, so much so that her hands could not go through with it. The carrot was held all the way inside her and she clutched and squeezed her clitoris as she arched up off the bed. It wracked her body and left her utterly exhausted. When she awoke disorientated and confused, the quilt was covering her, and Gwendolen, now in jeans and jumper, was swapping the lunch tray for another one bearing more food and drink. The woman turned to her and smiled, for probably the first time since she had been taken.

‘Don’t let your tea go cold,’ she said. ‘Your punishment is over now. You can use the bathroom as before.’

Leah was too groggy to answer and the memories of her afternoon’s depraved display were creeping back. Gwendolen obviously saw the distress on her captive’s face and did something very out of character: she leant forward and kissed her on the forehead.

‘Don’t worry, my lovely,’ she said, ‘your husband is coming tomorrow. Perhaps if you’re lucky, you might even be going home.’

Five

Leah was awoken the following morning by April who, in contrast to the previous afternoon, seemed entirely disinterested in meting out any abuse, allowing the captive to hurry through her ablutions unmolested. Leah had spent her evening engrossed in May’s book, reading into the early hours about the swashbuckling heroine Celeste and her adventures against the backdrop of what seemed like a cross between Amazonian jungle and the Caribbean islands of the seventeenth century. Her exploits pitted her against the tyrannical Madame Silhouette, a buccaneering rich-bitch full of malevolence and lust. The tale unfolded into a love story, with the heroine falling for young Bridget, the beautiful and unwilling servant of the villainous woman pirate.

Leah read with growing excitement, her free hand gently playing between her legs as the authoress threw off her shackles and warmed to the task of depicting the wonderful tenderness and yearning of that forbidden kind of love. At one point Celeste was captured and tied naked to a mast and forced to endure a taste of the cat. With all the crew watching, Madam S. lashed her captive’s bare breasts and belly, then dropped to her knees and feasted with unrelenting vigour on the ‘split fruit’ before her. Celeste was unable to resist the sensations, and to her enduring shame she was defeated, squirting her orgasm in a gushing jet all over her tormentor’s face and chest.

It was at that point that Leah was also compelled to come, teasing a hurried orgasm from her beckoning sex before diving straight back into the book. The parallels were unquestionable and she was finding greater significance with every chapter, with almost every paragraph. If she were Celeste and Gwendolen the cruel Madame Silhouette, then May was clearly Bridget, the delicate beauty suffering her own kind of bondage and forced to act against her will. Most tantalisingly of all was the certain knowledge, without even finishing the book, that eventually Celeste would free Bridget and they would be together at last. She knew it was bound to happen and, even better, so would May.

Leah was taken down to a breakfast consisting of bacon sandwiches and hot tea. She ate alone, guarded by April, who chaperoned her silently whilst examining her fingernails with bored distraction. The clock on the wall showed it to be just before ten, which was much later than she had been awoken yesterday and explained the absence of the others, who were presumably already well into their morning’s work.

Leah spotted her handbag, still there on the side and quite possibly still housing her mobile phone. She weighed up her chances of secretly retrieving it, and even of making a break for it now. Then she pictured the elder twin’s response if she were discovered, and the near psychotic and undoubtedly quasi-sexual assault that would follow on thwarting the escape attempt. A warning shiver ran down her spine. She quietly finished her sandwich and then looked across to her nemesis to await further instructions.

She was made to wash and dry up her breakfast things, quite unnecessarily considering the dishwasher that sat just to the side of the sink, and was then taken to the back door and instructed to put her shoes on. She selected the trainers that May had leant, rather than the wellingtons which had just added to her feeling of ridiculous humiliation during her previous day’s visit to the kennels. They stepped into the morning warmth and crossed the courtyard to the stables. To Leah’s delight May was inside, busily grooming one of the ponies, and although she allowed herself a brief glimpse of the new arrival, she quickly turned back to her work, obviously mindful of her sister’s overbearing presence. Leah was stationed by the entrance to her former sleeping quarters whilst April dragged over the ball and chain and secured it to her captive’s ankle.

‘Now then, Little Miss Wanky,’ she said slyly, leaving Leah in no doubt that her escapades with the carrot had indeed been witnessed, ‘stay there and don’t make a sound, or I will make you clean the floor with your tongue.’

The twins busied themselves with their various horsey tasks, grooming and preparing their mounts for a ride. From her position at the opposite end of the stable, Leah couldn’t really see what was going on, but she could hear the girls in conversation. As ever, it was April who dominated proceedings, although every now and then Leah could pick out May’s softer, succinct tones. Occasionally they would join together in a whisper, followed by giggling; rare moments of sisterly solidarity that reminded Leah that they were, after all, identical twins. For the main part though, it was the elder sister filling the silence, chatting away as if to supply a constant reminder of her own dominance and importance in all proceedings.

The talk was of the hunt. April clearly thought she was a bit of a whizz when it came to steeplechasing and delighted in her reminiscences of galloping brazenly through various farmer’s fields and hedges in pursuit of an unnamed quarry, though Leah strongly suspected it was four-legged and brush-tailed. From what she could gather, their hunts were not about red jackets and tally-ho’s, more about a collection of farmers and farm-hands working to eradicate a menace, and having lots of cruel fun into the bargain. Leah strained her ears to pick up the tale about how last week a chap called Bryn had been flirting with April all the way around the chase. Back at the village, apparently, she had said something suggestive that had given him a very visible stiffy in his breeches, much to his shame and the delight of his taunting mates. May tutted and called April a prick-tease, to which her sister’s reaction was typically snide.

‘Just because you fancy his sister,’ she spat.

May told her twin to get lost
,
but it was a hollow denial that at once frizzed Leah’s belly but stung her with jealousy too. She could picture the scene, April holding court, teasing the boys and trying to make their pricks grow big, while unnoticed in the background, May shot glances and shy smiles to Bryn’s lucky sister. Leah couldn’t stop herself from visualising the girls together, and even through the blurry images and her biting envy she could see the luscious tenderness of their coupling, the soft bodies and the hard orgasms.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the twins clopped their mounts out into the courtyard and she pulled her ball and chain behind her to afford herself a better view from the stable door. The girls went to the nearest paddock, where a couple of low-lying jumps had been set out. They trotted gently around the field as a warm-up before urging the horses into more strenuous activity. It didn’t take long for Leah to become spellbound. It was a combination of their bodies in harmony with the animals, their immersion in the task and the sheer beauty of their movements.

They rode with different styles that summed up their characters completely. April was hunched forward and aggressive, dashing between the jumps and attacking each one, kicking and calling out to her horse to urge it on. May was far more measured and precise, accelerating just before the jump and concentrating on the timing, patting her mount’s neck with each successful clearance. She sat much straighter in the saddle, her small chest stuck out and jiggling on the landings, an arch at the small of her back accentuating the outward push of her bottom against the saddle.

Her leggings were stretched tight and shone as they caught the sun, allowing every movement beneath them to be visible. There were wonderful moments on her approaches when she gathered speed, and just before she came fully out of the saddle it would rise up two or three times and slap hard against her, sending a rippling judder through her bum cheeks. For those precious moments, the firm definition of her buttocks was transformed to an almost liquid softness, and Leah knew this was exactly how they would look if May were being taken from behind.

She looked so beautiful that it was heart-aching to watch. Leah just wanted to run over and hold her, to draw her in and kiss her. Crystal clear in her mind’s eye she appeared, naked except for her riding boots and hat; dark contrasts against her alabaster skin. She looked smooth and flawless, young and lithe. When they embraced, her body would be perky and athletic, but as Leah took hold and squeezed her, the firmness would dissolve into unfathomable pliancy in her hands. Their pussies would touch and they would kiss forever, melted together by their softness.

All this brought back memories of her convent school days and the aching nostalgia of those endless summers where she would fall into unrequited love at least a thousand times. She had even joined the swimming club, despite her limited abilities, just to watch the older girls in training. Each one was beautiful and fascinating, their movements perfect and mesmeric, their gestures and habits and private giggling huddles too sweet and painful to watch, even from afar.

Each body enthralled her and made her long for her own speedier development. One day she would delight in the view of a full bosom or muscular thighs straining at the swimsuit, the next it would be tiny pointed nipples and a flatter chest, with maybe a slim-hipped, chubby bum to go with it. She cheered her heroines on from the poolside and hoped they would notice her, then stole whatever furtive glimpses she could in the changing rooms and hoped that they wouldn’t.

After training she dreamt of all the girls pulling down their swimsuits and bending over to present her with a glorious line of bums, their young pussies pushing out between smooth thighs for her attention. She would be told to get to her knees and, one by one, the girls would grab her by the hair, pull her face into their backsides, and make her lick them. Sometimes she would have snatched a view in the changing rooms of a hairy mound or a dimpled buttock, and these details would be added meticulously to her fantasy for added realism. The reality was, however, that her dreams stayed as just that. Although by their closeness she was convinced some of the girls were lovers, she never found the courage or the opportunity to prise herself into their world, and so her fantasies remained unfulfilled. She could barely swim at all these days; the smell of chlorine almost ripped her heart out.

A couple of years later Thomas came along and swept away the agony of her schoolgirl crushes. She was stacking shelves at the time and he was a precocious young man on a management trainee scheme. He was good-looking and nearly filled his suit. He brimmed with disarming confidence and had a suggestive wit that Leah had never been exposed to before, which sent her into embarrassed giggling fits and made her weak at the knees. He clearly fancied her and thus for the first time she was welcomed into the wonderful world of boys. Before they officially became an item he was whisked away to another store, but a couple of years later he was back and they carried on almost seamlessly from where they left off.

They married fairly soon after, and they remained very happy over the years, although they both came to a mutual realisation that their early union had closed off some horizons which they now perhaps wished they should have experienced. Thomas was the only person she had ever really loved. But love is a disparate word; you could love your husband or you could love pizza. Nothing really described the intensity of wanting someone so much that even holding them was not enough. It felt almost like you needed to climb inside them, be a part of them and never let them go. This at least was what her earlier crushes had taught her. Some nights, after her fantasies had died down, she wondered if she had ever actually attained this with Thomas.

She was so proud of him and always glad to see him and he made her laugh like nobody else. She simply could not envisage a life without him; the thought just left her empty. Yet it was possible that he lacked something he could never give her. She needed adoration and protection and instruction, but after that she needed
softness
too. She wasn’t even sure what this entailed, whether it related to the spirit, the character, the body, or perhaps all three, but she was fairly sure that it was feminine in nature. She never really saw the utter beauty in men the way she had seen it in the girls of the swimming club, or here with May. As she watched the younger twin she was buzzing with the same schoolgirl excitement. She knew she could blissfully hold her for hours, kiss her for hours. She also knew that she could love her forever.

Leah was distracted as the Defender pulled up and Gwendolen climbed from the driving seat. She spoke to the twins and they immediately curtailed their activities, and she left them to dismount as she marched directly towards the stables. Leah quickly moved back, dragging her ball and chain away from the stable door and trying to return it to its original position at the front of the stall. She had just about done so when the Mistress strode into the stables and right up to her, wordlessly bending down and unlocking the ankle cuff, then straightening up looking her in the eyes.

‘Right then,’ said Gwendolen. ‘It’s time.’

The words meant nothing to Leah for a moment, and then she remembered: today was the day of her husband’s first visit.

Leah was locked in her room for a tense half hour. She thought she detected the arrival of another car but since her room was at the back of the house she was unable to confirm this. However, after a few more minutes she could hear the distant rumblings of an indistinct male voice downstairs, almost certainly Huw’s. After a while she heard a door close and all went quiet, so she sat nervously on her bed for ten minutes or so, until at last she heard the floorboards creaking in the corridor outside her room.

Gwendolen entered in a business-like manner, coming straight over and instructing her to get up. She was made to hold her hands out in front of her and was cuffed, just as she had been on the day she was snatched. When it came to ensuring her silence there was a new twist, and although this time she was spared the humiliation of her wet knickers in her mouth, these were substituted by an uncomfortable red ball gag that pushed against her tongue and was held tightly in place by leather straps fastening at her neck. She was given no extra clothes to wear and was ushered out of the door in just her knickers, a T-shirt and a pair of May’s pink ankle socks.