CHAPTER ONE

 

The radio news bulletin was a scant report: the announcer read the item so that not much attention was paid by the listening public; 'Lady Janet and Lady Alison, the two twenty year old friends who are on a Charity Safari, have not been heard of for the last forty eight hours. At the moment there is no cause for alarm. They are progressing over difficult terrain through the Bavarian Pass that will take then into the Northern Territory of Italy. It is known that they both have sufficient provisions to last for several weeks. Both Lady Janet and Alison have been firm friends since Roedean.' After the Meteorological report, the disc jockey took over again, and the announcement was forgotten by an uninterested public who only had interest for the records chart for that week and motorists who wanted to be entertained with music instead of boring Charity Safari details.

 

***

 

Duncan Jonathon Cowdrey read and re-read the documents before him and ejected the cigarette end from his cigarette holder. Half consciously, he inserted a fresh tipped tube of tobacco and then placed the flame from his lighter to the end. He sucked the tobacco into his lungs and sighed the smoke through his aristocratic lips. These girls were a nuisance, he thought to himself as he read the papers presented to him by the Charity Organisation responsible for his latest caper. As did not recall the itinerary the Charity committee claimed that they had sent him so as to give diplomatic clearance of two British aristocrats travelling through the European terrain; or if he had seen the documents, he had soon forgotten them. He did not know the two young ladies personally, and as he studied copies of their photographs, his blood tingled slightly at the portrayed beauty of the shapely girls now lost in some God forsaken Pass down South Bavaria! It had been several weeks now, and at first, their Lords and Lady parents had played merry hell at the Foreign Office and several diplomatic phones had burned well into the night; but despite 'calm, yet feverish' activity on the part of the Diplomatic Corps, the girls' whereabouts were a complete mystery. News being what it is, and the various day to day activities forever losing place of importance on the front pages, the girls' disappearance gradually slipped from the Press.

Duncan Jonathon was left in a dingy room at the Foreign Office, W.1. to try to make some sense of the mystery. When he had suggested, rather brightly, he thought, that Interpol would be interested, his brilliance was dimmed by a curt reminder that Interpol did not operate in Bavaria, and that the girls' disappearance did not warrant the importance that the invitation to Interpol would give it. It was a case of make haste slowly. Or look before you leap yet hesitate and you are lost. A whole lot of paradoxical tenets to be applied, and D-J Cowdrey was heartily fed up and thoroughly sick of the whole rotten business. Certainly the profiled photographs interested him a lot more than the screeds of words that he had laid out before him. He picked up the telephone and asked the switchboard to connect him with the Rumanian Embassy. He sighed as he waited, at least he was making a stab at it, and it would look good on paper if any Ministerial pest started to ask questions.

 

***

 

The Jeep had started to make the descent through the pass and the very attractive, blonde Lady Janet kept her blue eyes on the winding road ahead. The engine moaned in protest at the selected low gear, and Janet steered it round the hairpin bends, letting her attention remain glued to the twin orbs of light spearing from her head lamps.

"We'll pull over at the next pull-in, Alison," she suggested to the equally attractive brunette sitting next to her.

"Good idea. I'm famished," the shapely passenger agreed. The pull-in was some three miles further down the precarious slope, and the last part of the journey had been made in silence from the companions. The silence was complete when the engine was cut and a tiny light in the jeep was the only illumination to be seen.

"Thank God that part's over," Alison said, wearily; she turned and clambered over her seat and then hoisted herself into the rear compartment to sort out the stove to brew some tea. Janet watched the tight jeans as her friend's bottom humped and then drew away from her into the back of the vehicle and a smile crossed her mouth. She felt suddenly pleased that she had Alison with her; she was good fun to have on this expedition and Janet knew that it would not be long before they would be sipping refreshing hot liquid. They sipped their tea in silent thoughts; both were tired and only wanted to rest.

"I'm just off for a pee," Alison announced and Janet watched her disappear into the night. There was no time for luxurious frills like using a toilet. Soon Alison was back in the jeep and Janet went outside to add to the pool of liquid deposited by her friend.

Within half an hour both girls were wrapped in travelling blankets and sleeping deep sleep, their minds too tired to even dream. Neither girl felt the thin hypodermic needle prick into their arms, and neither girl stirred as they were pulled from the jeep. Once they had been transported to another vehicle, their jeep was driven by foreign hands away from the original site and the new driver followed the two red lights of the luxurious car speeding into the night ahead. The abduction of the two attractive aristocrats had been completed, efficiently, quietly and expertly.

 

***

 

Janet was keenly aware of the dryness in her mouth as she slowly stirred herself awake. Her head felt slightly numbed and she opened her eyes in leisurely response to her brain becoming aware of her conscious state. She closed her eyes again and then snapped them open. She was laying on her back, and her first view was of a white ceiling with a concealed lighting arrangement and her impression was that she was in Hospital. She turned her head slowly and saw that she was resting in an ultra-modern setting; at first she was certain that she was still dreaming, the surrealist decor confused her subconscious mind. Although she turned her head from side to side, viewing the strange clinical type room either side of her, she saw nobody, and yet had the distinct impression that she was being watched. She thought at first that she was lying on a bed, but as she became more aware of her conscious state, she discovered that it was a mattressed table, rather like an examination couch in a doctor's surgery. She tried to sit up, but her torso refused to behave in command to her brain; she concentrated next on each part and limb of her body and became frightened when she realised that she was unable to move. Only her head was able to respond and then only from side to side. She could actually feel every part of herself, but was powerless to actually MOVE. It was just as though liquid cement had been poured into her veins and had set so as to render her powerless to operate her own body.

Then she remembered Alison. What the hell was happening to her? The dull throbbing in her head was intense, so that soon she was suffering from a headache and her mouth was terribly dry. She opened her lips to call out, but the sandy dryness in her throat prevented her. At least she could move her face and also her tongue could lick round her lips. As her fear became more intense, she heard a door open to her right. It did not click open but rather had an automatic arrangement used in modern buildings where as an approaching body will trigger off a release mechanism to cause the doors to slide apart. She turned her head and stared at the attractive woman now drawing close to where she lay. The woman was serenely attractive and was dressed in a uniform made of leather, Black tight fitting skirt that revealed most of her shapely thighs, and a bolero leather jacket that only just managed to contain the swelling curves of her breasts. The face was severe and yet beautiful in a statuesque mould of sadistic evil.

"Don't try to move; Lady Janet," the woman announced, the quality of the tone of her voice caused shudders of unaccountable fear to ripple through Janet's supine body. Janet was not sure whether she was still clothed or not. The white linen sheet covering her body was pulled up to her chin and what lay beneath the sheet beside her fear filled body was as much a mystery as to the whole strange happenings as to why or how she became to be here.

"I know about pour friend Alison too. Obviously, you are puzzled, and I am going to reveal to you the reason you are here. You were at a very good public school, probably the best in England. Whilst you were there, you and Alison had a room maid. Cheryl Anderson, my sister. Remember her?" Janet looked up steadily at the arch tyrant. Of course she remembered Cheryl. Silly girl really. Alison and Janet used to pull her leg terribly at school, it was all a big joke really. She came from Europe somewhere or other, and she would be a natural bait for Janet and Alison. They used to tease her terribly and sometimes, Janet admitted, their treatment of the wretched girl sometimes went too far. So this was her sister. A different kettle of fish entirely. There was nothing stupid about this woman. She looked positively evil despite her fine structured and good looking body.

Karen gave Janet a drink from a glass and to the young blonde's relief, the headache slipped away easily leaving her throat slaked and her mouth moist.

"Why have we been brought here, and how?" asked Janet.

"You have been brought here to be ... shall we say ... trained. Yes, a good word. You will both be trained to be more tolerant of other people. You will be trained to accept a more obedient attitude; and you will both be trained to respond to commands without question. Through discipline and obedience." Karen brought her face closer to where the now wide-eyed Janet's face looked up at her. Their faces were mere inches apart. "I am going to train you ... teach you, to grovel ... to beg for humiliation. By the time I have finished with you and your pretty friend next door, you will be two very willing slaves. Your bottom, dear Janet will burn under the fire of my punishing canes and whips. You will learn that what parts of your body are sacred will now be prepared to be viewed and subjected to the most terrible pain and humiliation that I can devise. I am prepared to wager that before long you will be pleading to feel my abuse of you. No part of your shapely person will be left unattended. Your breasts, your thighs, your bottom, oh, especially your shapely bottom will thrust and present for my whips. How do you feel now, my pretty little blonde aristocrat?"

"You ... you must be mad!" Janet's voice exploded, and she tried to jump up, but the invisible retention device, whatever it was, prevented her from moving one inch.

"You will soon change your tune, my lovely," Karen smiled down at her. Janet positively writhed inside when she felt her breasts squeezed where the mounds pushed the white sheet into hillock shaped material. But she was horrified when she felt the hands squeezing her breasts and she could move not one muscle to protect herself.

"You have fallen foul of a very strong International Organisation, the chemical injected into you has virtually paralysed your muscles from the neck to your toes. Yet every nerve in your body is alive and aware, so that when I touch you ... see? You feel my hand."

Janet closed her eyes and had to force herself from crying out as Karen's hand closed again over the shapely breast and she felt her nipple start to prod out from the pinky brown aureole. Then she tried hard to will her legs to move when Karen's hands stroked the sheet where it covered her pubic mound.

"Pleeease ... no ... stop it!" Janet snapped and gasped at the sheer effrontery of the dominant woman.

Karen laughed out loud at Janet's discomfort; "Told you so! I will bring the two male assistants in soon and they shall watch you with your body naked and exposed. How do you fancy the two men playing with you, my haughty Young Miss ... you have no clothes on under that sheet ... see?"

Janet felt the sheet being pulled down and off and she knew that she was naked. Helplessly, she lay there as her hands were placed under her head and then her feet were spread wide. Karen arranged the dimpled knees so that they were bent outwards and exposed the soft pink lips of the blonde's sex lips. Janet could have wept in shame as she lay there appearing to stay posed like that at her own leisure. She tried fervently to move her body, but it was impossible. Posed like that, she was covered with the sheet again and then Karen left her; when the door closed behind her captor, Janet let the tears run down her cheeks; she was too confused. The lights in the ceiling dimmed and she felt herself getting tired again, so dropped off to sleep; her body remained posed just as Karen had left it.