BOOK 1 - FORCED TO OBEY

 

A trickle of sweat ran down the face of the beautiful blonde teenager seated stiffly upright in the high-backed wooden chair, some fine strands of her blonde hair were plastered to her chiselled, white features. A tight black cloth blindfold covered her eyes, but her tense, strained face quested blindly towards a masked man a few feet away. His hands lovingly reached towards the controls of a large black box lying on a stool before him, the creaking sound of his movement made the girl visibly cringe. Several wires led from the box to the girl who was stark naked and bound tightly into the chair, thin black cords tightly circling her neck, upper arms, shoulders belly, wrists, and splayed upper thighs and ankles. Painful-looking clips attached the wires to each of her pink and erect nipples, whilst further wires ran up into the dark velvet apex of her widely spaced thighs and into the lips of her sex. Her lovely body was covered in a sheen of sweat. The man dressed in khaki army drill, toyed with the electrical box, teasing the girl with the sound then folded his arms impassively, his eyes hard and black above the mask.

Whilst the girl was open and totally visible, her largish breasts heaving, the man was mostly obscured by the mask and an Arabic robe around his face. The room too with its white stone walls was quite dim and anonymous except for the spotlight which fixed the girl in its cruel white beam. Besides the occupants, the room was largely empty apart from a camcorder on a tripod behind the man and constantly filming the girl and her surroundings. A tiny fanlight window was set high in the solid wall behind her through which could be heard the faint sounds of traffic and the occasional raised Arabic voices - although the distance was too great to make out any words. A radio-cassette was playing a mixture of Middle Eastern and Western music. It would have been obvious to any observer that even if the girl had managed to make any sound, which could have been heard outside of her prison - it would have been obscured by, or mistaken for, the radio. The captive was helpless.

"We shall now run through your message again, little girl," breathed the man in a clipped foreign accent, "but first another demonstration in case you forget the power of pain."

"No I pleeeeease, I remember what I must saaayyy, arrrgghhh, the girl's plea distorted into a gurgle of pain as the man's hand moved briefly on the controls and, with an electric crackle, her body jerked tautly in the chair. Her features lost only a little of their beauty as they contorted in pain; her mouth gaping wide to reveal perfect white teeth.

"Now repeat please as taught," the man's patient voice continued half a minute later after the girl's groans had subsided and her body sagged limply as far as her bonds would permit. Tears trickled from below her wet blindfold as she wearily and blindly raised her face.

"Mum... as you know, I'm Jill Western, age nineteen, born in Maidstone, Kent. You are aged thirty seven, your birthday is June 12th and I bought you flowers and a weekend at a health spa for your last Birthday. You and Daddy divorced ten years ago, and... he-he was killed in a crash two years ago," the girl whispered. "My favourite colour is green and I have six retro pictures of Steve McQueen in my bedroom at home." The girl seemed to choke back tears at the memory before continuing.

"You will know from this that it is really me and not a look-alike. Soon after I left home for the modelling assignment I was taken hostage in one of the Middle Eastern countries where we were staying. I have been moved around for much of the last week in the boot of a car and don't know where I am now. My captors will release me for one million pounds, I had to tell them you could afford it, but only if it is accompanied by a film or DVD of you, Mum. I don't know why but there are exact instructions my kidnappers will give later as to what must be on the film. My captors are insistent that without it, and the money, you will... will n-never see me again. Likewise, if you show this video to anyone, or tell the police, they will send you another video - of ... of my-my ex-execution."

For a full minute the girl's head slumped and the silent Arab let the tears trickle down her cheeks until she regained control.

"I-I had to list every person you both know and my captors will pick out one or two of those names. They will be the people to whom you give the ransom money and with whom my kidnappers will contact to arrange collection. Those same people must also take the video of you, Mum. They will not know or be given any details of my kidnappers, so it will be no use the police or anyone questioning or following them. My kidnappers will only have contacted them to say that you want an amateur film made with no questions asked and that you will be paying them to do so and that payment will also include a further sum for the people, the sponsors - but in reality my k-kidnappers - who set up the filming. That money will be the ransom and you will place it in a briefcase which you will lock and my kidnappers will then arrange to collect it from the people we select to make the film of you. Only then, after the briefcase is safely in the hands of my kidnappers and if all goes to plan, will I be released. You will receive further instructions in a week. The outline script of what you-you must do - what... what must be in the film will be in a sealed envelope. Detailed instructions about the content of the film will be sent to those are chosen to make it and collect the ransom. You will know that you must do whatever they tell you to. The instructions, as well as the film details will also include arrangements for the money; none of these things from the film content to the amount of the ransom are negotiable. If all instructions are not obeyed to the letter you will never see me again. Please-please use the time to get the money ready."

"Yes, do use the time wisely whilst little Jill is our guest, the film will be of the SM and bondage variety, involving nudity and minor chastisement," the masked man spoke slowly. "If you decide that you cannot do that or nor comply with the other financial terms of the... arrangement then feel free to turn it down. Your daughter's time here with us will not be, er... pleasant and that suffering will continue until we have exactly what we want. However, it will get considerably worse if you refuse any of the terms we demand until... well, as she said you would then never see her again." The man smiled lewdly before snapping off the camera.

 

***

 

For the hundredth time, Cathy Western had played the DVD she had received two weeks earlier of her daughter's kidnapping. But now was the day of reckoning, when those chosen to be the kidnappers' unknowing intermediaries would arrive and make her... her...

Ding dong!

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted her. Taking a deep breath she switched off the TV and DVD and went to answer it.

"I'm sure rather embarrassed about this, Mrs Western," the bearded youth in scruffy jeans scratched his long hair after Cathy had invited him and the dark-haired teenage girl with him, into her elegant house, "but I and my girlfriend, Fitch, here," the girl's hard and slightly Oriental face smiled briefly at the mention of her name, "had a call from some people who want me to make a film with you in it."

Cathy ground her teeth in frustration and anger and brushed her hands through her shoulder length blonde hair -why had the bastards chosen this lad, of all Jill's friends? Cathy had been in turmoil since receiving the DVD of her daughter being tortured and had since been told by the kidnappers to expect a visit from their designated representative today and to have the ransom money ready in the sealed padded envelope. She had been hoping that those chosen to do this horrible thing would have at least been someone she liked. She had vaguely known the boy, Mike, for several years as a distant friend of Jill but the girl with him, probably with a trace of Chinese blood in her, was unknown. She had never particularly liked Mike that much, finding him a bit creepy and deciding he was a bit too much of a layabout, too much into the arts and fringe groups, to be closely associated with her daughter - but she had learnt that you couldn't choose your children's friends.

"You see," Mike continued as he leaned against a wall after putting down his large holdall, "I had a phone call from these people, somewhere overseas, they- they said they were from a film company. They said... said that you had spoken to them and that - that you wanted me to make this film of you. They said if it's good enough it might make you a famous actress - and me famous too as an amateur film maker. Apparently you've got an envelope in a briefcase for me which I'm to take when I leave with the completed film and give to the film company when they contact me to arrange upfront payment - then you'll get what you want, presumably your share of things from the royalties later on? Does - does all this make sense to you, Mrs Western?"

"Yes please, please - please don't ask why but I do need you to make this film and then give it, and the briefcase which I've got safely here, to the people from the, er - film company when they ring you. I think, I hope, they'll contact you tomorrow. It's so very important that they get the film and briefcase as soon as possible. Believe me I - I'm not going to enjoy it but I need to do it - it it's a sort of dare, OK?" she repeated the get-out line of justification which she'd rehearsed since receiving the kidnappers demands.

"But - but I don't like to... I don't do this kind of... have you seen the script?" Mike enquired. "It says that you haven't yet seen the precise details."

"No, no I haven't seen it, but I know roughly the type of film that the... company require. I guess that it's going to be a bit... well rather racy. But look... look," the beautiful woman ran her shaking hands down her elegant face, collecting her composure, "it's something I just have to do, or I stand to lose a lot - a bet. Look. I... I know we haven't ... er always got on in the past when Jill was younger... maybe that's why they chose you - and your girlfriend, Fitch," she nodded to the dark haired girl. "They probably thought it would be easier to make the film with someone not too close to me..." 'and the bastards who have Jill would have made her tell them about you both and would know that you have no reason to like me...' the woman added in a whisper under her breath.

"Pardon, Mrs Western?"

"Nothing, Mike, I was just thinking out loud - doesn't matter. Look, I... I'm not ... not into this sort of ... thing either, but I just have to do it. Later, when it's over, I'll explain and you'll understand."

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No, not me... but I'll explain in a week or two and you'll then understand. Meantime let's do exactly as we're told... as the script says, and I'll not think any worse of you - and I hope you'll not think worse of me?"

"No of course but... is it Jill? Is it something to do with her? Is she in...?"

"Mike ... please," the woman practically shouted. "If it was anything to do with her, and I'm - I'm not saying it is, but if so, and if you have any feelings for her... then you'll just-just do this ... for her... Promise," she held up her hands to interrupt the beginning of another protest.

"OK, I'll - we'll do it for Jill," he finally agreed and extracted one of the copies of the script from his pocket. "Look, it says I can now show you this full copy of the script so you have a rough idea of the storyline - and where there are blanks on your copy - they're filled in on my copy that we have to follow so that there is an element of surprise in the events for you. Not-not that you probably need it, I'm sure you are a good enough actress to..." He breathed in deeply. "You sure you want us to do all of what's in it...?" Mike looked at the lovely woman, seeing the frown on her white and strained face and the clenching of her fists as she read the script summary.

"No, no it-it's fine," Cathy stifled a shudder. "Look... I told you, we...we must do it exactly as in the script." She rubbed her head, feeling the perspiration of fear and shame there.

When she had received the next contact from the kidnappers she had felt sick with fear. Explicit photographs were included to remind her, as if she needed it, of what they were doing to Jill. Her poor daughter was constantly on her mind, hoping that she would be OK. But the pictures of her, without her clothes, being made to do things by the beasts who had kidnapped far from home... So what right did she have to object to a bad hour or two doing obscene and painful things in the privacy of her own home? Jill was going through far worse. She could do this, she decided bravely. OK so she would have to debase and shame herself beyond anything which she had previously thought possible in her wildest nightmares, but if she didn't do it exactly as they demanded and be filmed by Mike... She shuddered at the thought.

Cathy couldn't help thinking that the bastards had deliberately chosen Mike to make the film to increase her shame. OK, he was apparently a part-time photographer but he always appeared so creepy and his girlfriend looked way-out too, dressed in a tight black leather cat-suit. She guessed that she had to be thankful that they didn't ask too many questions and that they were willing and able to make such a film. She vaguely recalled that Mike had been into some sort of film making in the past. And indeed, despite his protestations of whether she really wanted to make such a film, she somehow knew deep down that he would revel in her shame.

Her fists clenched. For two pins she'd forget the whole thing. But whenever her thoughts went along those lines, they would inevitably lead to the still photos of Jill; the look of pleading and abject fear in her poor eyes. The Arab swine were doing such horrible things to her... and she knew they would continue, and worse, unless she did the same and just partially shared Jill's shame.

 

***

 

"We're ready," Mike and Fitch called out, half an hour after Cathy had the chance to shower and apply the make-up and dress as demanded by the script, and the couple had set up their cameras extracted from the holdall. "Are you?"

"Y-yes, OK," Cathy tried to sound braver than she felt as she heard the couple let themselves out and then the doorbell rang.

Taking a deep breath Cathy walked to the front door, ignoring the camcorder on the tri-pod recording her. She wished she wasn't wearing just her small night time tee-shirt which covered very little of her elegant figure - but she must stick to the script.

"Haah," she jumped back in genuine shock and fear as the two figures now wearing hideous and frightening gangster-style masks forced their way in. She gave thanks for the money left her by her rich husband that her house was large and secluded, without nosy neighbours to see what was going on.

"OK bitch, hands on head," Mike's voice came from beneath one mask as he brandished a fake gun, pushing her back into the room before the camera.

"OK, don't hurt me," she whimpered with very little prompting, raising her hands so that the tee-shirt rode up to show off the beauty of her pert bottom and pubic v.

"Where's your money?" Mike demanded, poking her boobs through her tee-shirt. "You search the house," he nodded to the masked figure of Fitch.

"Look, please I - I haven't any..."

"Yeah, a likely story, get this shit off so I can check you."

"But..." this was the reality of her agreement, and worse than she had imagined.

"OK you bitch, strip!" Mike shouted at her when she hesitated.

"We want you naked - now - see what you look like," the dark haired girl joined in accordance with the script, her hands almost kindly stroking Cathy's long hair.

This was the moment, or at least the first moment, she had been dreading. She wasn't used to undressing in public and certainly not before creeps she didn't know or particularly like. But it only took a memory of Jill's DVD and the knowledge of how much worse she was having to endure to make her compliant. Taking another deep breath Cathy peeled up her shirt, giving thanks that she kept in trim. Her 36, 29, 34 figure had stood the test of time thanks to frequent gym work-outs. It was made worse that Fitch, having removed her mask off camera was now using another camera, moving it around, to get good close ups of her, and she was smiling coldly, seemingly enjoying this parody.

"Hands back up your head, mouth your open wide, tongue right out," Mike's voice was only slightly muffled by his mask.

The script details only gave her a rough outline of what to expect, what she had to do in this film. All of this was unknown territory for her - being treated like this. The fear mixing with the shame in her flushed face was for real. The kidnapping bastards could have engineered for her to endure virtually anything non-fatal at the hands of the couple - and she would just have to accept it. She was a rich and powerful woman, running her own companies, and this was just so demeaning but she obeyed, feeling her bare breasts rising with her posture. With her mouth gaping and tongue protruding she felt like a village idiot, more so when she had to remain just like that whilst Mike mauled her breasts, bouncing them humiliatingly, also seemingly enjoying himself at her expense. She ground her teeth in rage and shame longing to say something, to object but knew she must endure for Jill's sake.