Chapter 11: Strung Up, Bogged Down and Hung Out to Dry
Bethany reluctantly hobbled away from Cathy as swiftly as her leg-irons would allow, taking the narrow but well defined pathway deeper into the woods. Still shell-shocked from the events of the past twelve hours or so, and with the recent revelation that she was now being held against her will at Shackleton Grange only just beginning to sink in, she had been loath to leave her only ally, but knew that it made sense for them to split up and go their separate ways.
Birdsong filled the mid-morning air, with butterflies and bees in abundance in the sunlit glades, and squirrels and other small woodland mammals scurrying around this undisturbed wildlife haven. But Bethany took little notice of the sights and sounds of nature taking place around her. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her breath came in short, exhausted bursts. And after the way she’d been bound all night, the muscles in her legs were painful and stiff from lack of activity. Yet she willed herself to push these physical woes to the back of her mind. All she could do was try to concentrate on finding a place to hide, where the baying hound couldn’t get its fearsome teeth into her. Climbing a tree was obviously out of the question in her fettered condition. The thick undergrowth might be an option, she pondered, although if she could immerse herself in foliage of this kind, with her arms shackled at her back and therefore of little use to her, then she was sure that any canine predator would be more than capable of following.
It can’t have been much more than a minute or so after she and Cathy had parted, that Bethany slowed down and came to a halt where two tracks merged. Breathing heavily due to the exertion from her enforced flight, and trembling from the fear that tightened its grip in her stomach and seemed to grow steadily until it all but overwhelmed her, she tried to calm herself by taking in lungfuls of pristine country air through the tiny nose slits in her tightly fitting hood. Which way now? She gazed around, but each direction looked the same, with dense trees and thick underbrush every way she turned. And then she saw it.
At a distance of around fifty feet from where she stood, in a clearing not far off the winding trail that led away to her right, she spotted what she hoped would be a haven from the teeth and claws of the bloodthirsty beast that she was certain would soon be bearing down upon her. The tree stump appeared ancient and decayed, with moss covering the peeling dead bark and ferns growing in abundance all around. But, if her view from this distance was accurate, it looked to be hollow, around three feet in diameter, and rose probably about five feet from the forest floor. On these dimensions alone, this would have been no use to Bethany as a sanctuary, as the possibility of climbing onto or into this arboreal remnant would have been beyond her means given her state of bondage. But from the angle from which she was approaching, she could clearly see that part of the side of this rotting tree had a giant vertical rent in one side – probably caused by a lightning strike many years ago - which would mean that stepping into the empty interior shouldn’t be too much of a trial, even taking into account her manacled wrists and shackled legs.
The path to this possible port of refuge was uneven and covered in leave litter and other forest floor detritus. There were also tree roots sticking out of the ground, which would make traversing this natural avenue a hazardous affair, as one trip could have seen her crashing to the ground or twisting an ankle...or maybe worse. But the sun shone brightly through the still unfurling spring leaves, dappling the ground and ensuring that the way ahead was relatively well lit, and therefore ensuring that any obstacle or hindrance could be easily identified. Or so Bethany assumed as she took her first steps towards her intended hideaway.
She hadn’t taken into account any deliberately hidden obstructions that might have been positioned in her path, however.
****
Bethany had traversed around three quarters of the distance to her intended goal, when suddenly her whole world was turned upside down... quite literally. One second she was walking along the track, with twigs and leaves crunching loudly underfoot as she went, the next she felt something constrict painfully around her left ankle. But before she could look down to see exactly what it was that had caused this sudden discomfort, Bethany felt her foot slipping from under her, and her leg shooting skywards at lightning speed, which resulted in her falling over backwards. The upward trajectory of her leg continued as she tipped over, however, which meant that instead of landing on her back, her whole body was propelled upwards so swiftly, that she was instantly clear of the ground; her feet high overhead, with her whole being rotating and swinging wildly in the breeze.
Bethany gazed helplessly at an upside down world in which the ground seemed to be spinning below her. This sudden 180 degree change in her alignment to the planet, plus the inability of her eyes to focus on one fixed spot as her body oscillated uncontrollably, made her dizzy and nauseous. It took her a few minutes to realise that she had activated some sort of snare – obviously one of the booby traps that Dolores had mentioned – which must have been spring-loaded, so that once stepped in, it propelled its helpless victim’s leg upwards to leave her dangling from a tree branch several feet above the ground. As the gyrating motion gradually decreased and the blurred panorama began to sharpen, Bethany gazed down to find that her face was probably around six or seven feet above the carpet of leaves below.
The pain in her left ankle, where the wire cut deeply into her flesh through the less than adequately protective spandex, was excruciating. But any twisting and tugging manoeuvres that she attempted in order to slip her foot free, only seemed to make the noose tighten still further. Her other foot, chained to its counterpart but relatively free, flailed helplessly outwards, as if trying to find a foothold or grasp some solid object, such as a branch or tree trunk, in order to in some way begin the process of escaping from this upturned world in which she found herself. This action, of course, proved futile and only resulted in the swinging motion becoming more exaggerated. Bethany let a low, despairing moan slip from behind her layered gag, despite the fact that the only likely respondents to this pitiful cry would be Dolores, her servants or the pseudo-policewoman.
****
How long Bethany remained suspended there it was difficult to guess at. It seemed to her like several hours, as her foot became numb and her head began to throb. In reality, it was probably no more than a few minutes, however, before the sound of snarling and panting grew louder, and seconds later the free roaming Fang was directly beneath her, growling and jumping as high into the air as he could to get at his prize. Luckily, Bethany found that she was strung up high enough above ground level to ensure that she was out of reach of those razor sharp teeth... but only just! Each leap that the apparently bloodthirsty creature made towards her had Bethany flinching and deliberately pulling her head up as high as she could to avoid contact. Even so, with every close encounter with the brute’s jaws, she could feel its stale, rancid breath against the few parts of her face not encased behind the leather hood, and view the interior of its salivating mouth. How long would it be before this hound of hell got lucky and actually managed to get a hold of her freely hanging ponytail? Or worse, tear through her headwear and rip into the flesh of her face?
Suddenly, from not far away, a shrill whistling sound pierced the glade, and all of a sudden the growling and gnashing of teeth came to an abrupt halt.
“Come here Fang, there’s a good boy.”
Bethany watched from her upended position as Fang scampered off, tail wagging, towards the source of this command. Straining her head around, she saw the form of WPC Penelope sashay along the path into the clearing. Slowly she approached the still swinging female, before making a complete circuit of her helpless prey.
“Well, well, looks like Dolores’ little trap worked a treat, doesn’t it? So which one are you then? Cathy or Bethany?”
Bethany attempted to give her name through the efficient multi-layered gags she wore, although whether the blonde woman now standing almost directly beneath her comprehended this stifled single word answer or not wasn’t clear. Penelope looked at her watch.
“Seven and a half minutes, give or take a few seconds. That’s how long it took for us to find you. Not bad I suppose, but not good enough to win a prize I’m afraid. I’m sure Dolores has got some nice devious punishment in mind for failing your task.”
Again she walked around the dangling, spandex clad figure, a slight smile on her face. Bethany gazed a few feet away, to where Fang now sat on the pathway, tongue hanging out of one side of his mouth, his eyes still set on the suspended female above him. He seemed like a coiled spring, ready to pounce should his mistress give the command. From her belt, Penelope pulled a small two-way radio and began speaking.
“Dolores? I’ve found one of your prisoners. I caught her hanging around – quite literally – about a hundred yards from the south perimeter wall. Have you come across the other one yet?”
A voice sounded through a wall of static – indistinct, but unmistakably belonging to Dolores - answering this enquiry in the negative.
“Okay, I’ll set Fang to work again. It shouldn’t take us too long to track her down, now that we’ve got one in the bag.”
She leant down and grabbed Fang’s collar, then began to drag the agitated animal away down the path. Bethany groaned in pain as she watched the departing pair. Just as they were about to disappear from sight into the dense trees, however, Penelope turned and called back to the suspended damsel-in-distress.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be back for you just as soon as we’ve rounded up your little partner-in-crime.”
Then almost as an afterthought, she shouted back over her shoulder.
“If I were you I’d keep as still as you can. That branch that you’re suspended from looks a bit unsafe to me. Wouldn’t want you to come crashing back down to earth now, would we? Falling onto your head from that height would be rather nasty I should imagine.”
What with all that had been going on over the past few minutes, Bethany hadn’t taken the time to consider the strength of the tree limb onto which the trap had been set. But these parting words caused her to focus her mind on this potentially dangerous set of circumstances. And yes, Penelope was right, the branch on which she swung did indeed seem perilously unstable, and creaked ominously if she moved. Straining her neck upwards, the ensnared female watched as the fragile timber bent and swayed with every minor motion that she made. Casting her eyes down again, the distance to the ground seemed daunting, and she knew that without the use of her hands to break her fall, she was in great danger of severe head or neck injury should the wood decide to give way. How long would it be before she was cut down from this suspended hell? Although wishing no ill on Cathy, she found herself hoping that Dolores and her entourage would recapture her soon, so that her own nightmare could be brought to a safe conclusion. Until then, all she could do was remain as still as possible and pray that the branch was stronger than it looked or sounded.
****
Cathy’s hopes declined in sync with the rate that she found herself descending into her soft, muddy grave. The greyish brown ooze was nearly to her shoulders now, and total immersion seemed imminent within no more than a minute or two. Lifting her chin clear of the encroaching mire, she flung her head back and wailed one long, sorrowful howl of despair into the ether.
And this elongated single note seemed to have the desired effect, for within seconds she heard a rustling in the leaf litter from somewhere close at hand behind her. Finding it impossible to turn and view whoever it was that was approaching, her first clue as to the identity of the new arrival was the now familiar voice that she had come to dread. Yet right at that moment, Dolores’ dulcet tones were the most welcome sound in the world.
“Well Cathy, looks like you’ve got yourself into a bit of a sticky situation here. You should really watch where you’re going, you know. How did you manage to sink so deeply in such a short space of time?”
Dolores crouched down on her haunches on the firm ground, no more than five feet or so from where Cathy’s head protruded from the less stable terrain. Even as the Mistress spoke, Cathy felt herself slip a further fraction of an inch into the quaking landscape, and ignored the question, instead pleading for her life to be spared.
“What, and get my nice clean cat-suit and boots all muddy? No darling, this is as near as I’m going to be getting.”
Cathy wailed again. Surely Dolores wasn’t going to just let her submerge completely, was she? Luckily, it soon became apparent that Dolores was merely teasing her.
“After all, why get your hands dirty when you employ servants to do all the hard work for you?”
She turned her head around in the direction from which she’d just arrived, and called out in a loud voice.
“Girls, I’ve found our little playmate. Get over here as quick as you can, will you? She’s in a bit of a predicament at the moment and needs your urgent assistance.”
The slimy fingers of the bog had gripped the base of Cathy’s leather encased neck by this time, and she prayed that Dolores’ aides weren’t too far away. The next twenty seconds or so were the longest of her young life, as she waited in desperation for the sound of footsteps traipsing through the dense undergrowth. But by the end of that unnaturally slowed down time-span, a silver latexed female had appeared from one direction, followed by a similarly clothed skin-tight vision in pink from another.
“You’d better get to work girls. Otherwise Cathy won’t be around to sample the rest of the delights I have planned for her over the coming months.”
Whether they’d had to rescue someone from a similar plight in the past or not, Cathy didn’t know. But it was obvious straight away that this pair knew exactly what was required of them. Cathy gazed up at the figures above her, as the silver suited woman pulled out a length of rope that had been tucked into her leather belt. Swiftly tying this around her waist, she handed the ends to her equally silent colleague, before beginning to wade into the thick morass that immediately began to suck her down into its depths. By the time she had pushed her way to within a few inches of Cathy, she too was up to her thighs in the ever hungry quag, with the rope lifeline behind her now being kept taut by her associate. Cathy could do nothing but watch in relief as her rescuer’s hands came to within inches of her face, before being plunged deeply into the thick, congealing bog. For a moment or two nothing happened. But then, Cathy suddenly felt fingers being forcefully inserted into her armpits, and seconds later, both she and her rescuer were being hauled back towards the bank. It took several minutes, but little by little Cathy felt her body and legs beginning to rise from the reluctantly yielding thick earthen soup that had so recently been ready to swallow her whole. By this time, the third of Dolores’ servants had appeared on the scene, and she too helped her pink clad co-worker haul the mud-encrusted pair back onto terra firma. As this had been going on, Dolores had merely retreated a yard or two from the swamp’s edge and was watching with detached interest – as if viewing a film or television drama. Only once Cathy had been laid on her back on the uneven but firm woodland floor, did she once again speak.
“Well Cathy, trying to out-fox us by hiding yourself underground, eh? I have to say that I admire your ingenuity. But unfortunately, we still hunted you down within the requisite fifteen minutes, so I’m afraid you don’t win today’s star prize. Close, but no cigar, as they say.”
Lying safely stretched out on the reassuringly solid ground, Cathy tried to calm her shredded nerves. That had been too close for comfort. But if she thought that the day’s ordeal was now in the past, she was to soon change her opinion. As Dolores was speaking, a rasping, panting sound reached Cathy’s ears, and seconds later she shivered with fear as she watched the slobbering form of the German shepherd appear in the clearing, straining hard on its leash and being held in check – just about – by WPC Penelope Peril.
Dolores smiled at her friend. “What took you so long?” was her only comment.
****
Cathy’s period of recuperation after her near death experience lasted only the length of time it took Penelope to explain the situation with regard to Bethany. Cathy listened with mounting dismay as she realised that her fellow captive had been no more successful than she in finding a way out of the secure enclosure that constituted the grounds of Shackleton Grange.
“Well, I suppose we’d better cut her down before all the blood drains into her head. Then we’ll get the pair of them back to the house and let Fang get to know them a little better, shall we?”
Cathy found herself pulled to her feet, and within seconds a dog leash – similar to that worn by Fang – had been fixed to the collar of her hood, and she found herself being forcibly led by the black suited figure as part of a single file convoy which the fake WPC and her canine accomplice were leading away from the marshy hollow. Second in line was the pink-clad woman, followed by Cathy and her guard. As they began their slow march, Cathy glanced back over her shoulder, to see the female in the now severely soiled silver cat-suit directly behind her. Bringing up the rear – so that she could keep an eye on proceedings, and specifically her prisoner - was Dolores. This procession through the woods was made in silence; with even Fang having calmed down by this time, although he constantly glanced backwards and seemed to eye Cathy up as if waiting for his opportunity to strike.
After no more than three minutes of being dragged along through the dense spinney, Cathy heard a faint noise that came from the direction in which they were heading. At first she thought that she was hearing the wind rustling in the treetops, or maybe the call of some species of bird with which she was unfamiliar. As they approached the source, however, it became obvious that this was the sound of someone in anguish, whose cries were being stifled by some form of speech inhibitor. It couldn’t be anyone but Bethany.
As they entered a clearing, Cathy caught her first glimpse of her co-captive, hanging motionlessly from a tree branch that seemed to be bent to its limits and looked to be on the verge of snapping. Bethany’s calls, once she saw the rescue party approaching, softened somewhat, and she now took to pleading for her ordeal to be brought to a conclusion before the timber gave way and sent her crashing to the ground.
“Okay girls, I think she’s suffered enough up there. Better let her down now.”
As always, Dolores’ commands were met with complete obedience by her three unquestioning members of staff, and Cathy found herself wondering exactly what kept them so docile and submissive. She had been a captive here for several days, but it occurred to her now - as Bethany was released from her upside down world - that this was the first time she had been able to watch from a neutral standpoint, as in the past, the actions of the three had always been directed at, and to the detriment of, herself. Now, as she observed them working on a third party, she pondered the question: What was in it for them? After all, they seemed to have no will of their own, but seemed to exist merely to serve Dolores’ whims and make sure that her word was law. The Mistress must have some hold over them, she surmised, and she vowed to herself there and then, that she would do whatever she could to find out what made them so subservient. For if she could somehow break the grip that Dolores seemed to have over these almost robot-like females, she was sure that the Mistress’ ability to wield her powerful hold over all she surveyed would be severely weakened, if not completely destroyed.
But her plans for this fact finding mission would have to be put on the backburner for the time being, as her thoughts were diverted towards the hapless Bethany, as she was slowly lowered to the ground and the deeply embedded snare removed from her leg; the indentation in the spandex – and therefore her flesh - still visible long after the wire had been loosened.
Although she looked exhausted from her frightful experience, Bethany was given no opportunity to rest. For no sooner had she been deposited on the ground, than she was being forced back to her feet and a chain identical to Cathy’s was being fixed to her neck. Now with her two prisoners back under control, Dolores addressed the severely traumatised young women.
“Well ladies, wasn’t that fun? I hope you enjoyed your workout in the sunshine just as much as we all enjoyed hunting you down. Unfortunately neither of you managed to reach the fifteen minute mark, so it’s back to a regime of strict unremitting bondage for both of you. Next time you’ll need to be more cunning if you want to win the luxury prize. Now let’s get you back to the house.”
Once more the cavalcade moved off, with Bethany and her guard falling into the line just behind Cathy. Within a few minutes the procession had cleared the trees and was now making its way back towards the house, which loomed ominously in front of Cathy and caused her to shiver at the thought of once more being locked away from the outside world. By now they had neared the door from which they had previously exited, but there was to be another twist to what had already been an eventful morning. Stopping just short of the entrance, Dolores once more broke the silence that had hung over this strange parade for the duration of their homeward hike.
“Now Cathy my dear, if you think you’re coming back inside the house in that state, I’m afraid you’re very much mistaken.”
Cathy looked down at her spandex outfit, covered from neck to toe in thick mud, which was beginning to dry and harden in the warmth from the sun.
“The last thing I need is that stinking crap all over the carpets and furniture. We’ll need to get you washed down before you can be allowed back in, I’m afraid.”
Cathy found herself being led away to one corner of the yard. As they neared the imposing wall, she heard Dolores’ voice from behind her, this time aimed at her three faithful attendants.
“And while we’re at it, you might as well wash Bethany down as well. It’ll save time if we do the two of them together.”
Cathy glanced behind her, to see that Bethany was also being led by her handler in the same direction as herself.
It was at this point that Cathy noticed for the first time a stand-pipe tap extending from the paved courtyard, just a few feet away from the wall of the house. Attached to this was a length of hose, laid out on the ground and ready for use. She knew instantly what was about to befall her and baulked at the thought of being drenched in a torrent of cold water. She tried to dig her heels in and halt her forward progress, but a sharp tug on her leash propelled her ever closer to the wall, and when she looked around, she could see that WPC Penelope, along with the now agitated Fang, had positioned themselves in such a way as to corral both Bethany and herself into the tight angle where one wing of the house met another. And seconds later, a further deterrent to fleeing the scene of her imminent icy shower was put into place, as she found her neck chain being threaded through a stout metal ring that protruded from the brickwork, which was then secured with a padlock. Bethany, too, was being subjected to a similar tethering process only a few feet away, and within seconds their guards had withdrawn and left them standing helplessly awaiting their fate like sitting ducks.
The force of the water, as the black cat-suited figure turned on the hose and aimed it in Cathy’s direction, caused her to step backwards, as a reflex action intended to get her out of the firing line. Being so close to the wall, however, there was nowhere to go, and within seconds she found herself soaked from head to toe in the freezing tidal wave that pounded against her. Immediately, Cathy’s spandex cat-suit was drenched, and she shivered violently as the fierce, unrelenting flow chilled her to the bone. Moving in closer, Dolores’ servant concentrated the powerful jet of water on Cathy’s head and neck, before working her way downwards, ensuring that all the mud and slime from her recent encounter with the bog was thoroughly washed away.
After what must have been fully five minutes of this water torture, Dolores decided that Cathy was now sufficiently cleansed, and much to her relief, the inundation ceased. The sound of the water gushing from the hosepipe failed to die down, however, and seconds later she heard a scream of anguish and could only watch as the course of the deluge was diverted towards Bethany, only a few feet away from where she stood, frozen and bedraggled. Bethany was more fortunate than herself, however, as not having been immersed in the mud, she was much easier to rinse off, and her shower lasted only a minute or so, before the surge of water decreased to a trickle and finally stopped.
With the risk of getting splashed having now receded, Dolores stepped forwards and inspected her two waterlogged captives, to ensure that they were now thoroughly clean and therefore fit to cross the threshold back into Shackleton Grange. But it appeared that there was now another stumbling block, and that their admission back into the mansion would be somewhat delayed.
“Well ladies, you seem to be devoid of mud and all the other nasty substances you picked up in the woods today, but I still can’t allow you back in the house just yet. You see all this excess water...”
She pointed to the ground at Cathy’s feet, where large streams continued to trickle endlessly onto the already saturated gravel.
“...will just drip off you onto the carpets and make quite a mess. I’d hate to think that my servants would have to spend all day mopping up after you.”
She walked the short distance from Cathy to Bethany, looking into their eyes as she approached within inches of each of their shivering forms. From the slight smile that never seemed to leave her face, it was clear that she was enjoying the torment she was putting them through.
“So what I’ve decided to do, as it’s such a glorious day, is allow you to stay out here and sunbathe until such time as you’ve dried off a bit. That’ll be nice for you, won’t it?”
She turned to where her faithful dogsbodies stood off to one side.
“I believe you know what to do girls.”
As one, the trio moved forward and released the chains from the moorings on the wall. Seconds later, Cathy felt a sharp jerk in the region of her neck, and she was forcibly marched back towards the open ground at the rear of the house. As they departed the scene – Bethany being dragged along a few yards behind Cathy – Dolores could be heard conversing with Penelope, while Fang barked wildly once more.
“Come on Penny, let’s go into the parlour and have a little aperitif before lunch. Then I can tell you all about the events of the past few days...”
****
The drenched spandex cat-suit felt heavy, clinging and extremely uncomfortable as Cathy was forcibly guided across the courtyard and along the wall of one wing of the house, which towered overhead and cast its shadow upon them. Taking a left turn at the end of the house, Cathy and Bethany found themselves back in bright sunlight and on a broad stretch of grass that ultimately led towards the front of the house. This wasn’t their destination, however, as before them Cathy could see a stout wooden post, sticking vertically from the lawn and rising to probably around ten feet in height. At the apex of this pole was fixed a crossbar, also of wood, that made the structure into a ‘T’ shape. Hanging from the extremities of each horizontal arm was a length of rope, which made Cathy think of a gallows. And this thought caused her to baulk at being led closer to this grim edifice. She was given no chose in the matter, however, as her wrists remained shackled helplessly at her back, and her abilities to run away were stymied by chains at both her ankles and her neck. Bethany, it seemed, also sensed the dread that this hideous structure exuded, as the screams that squeezed from behind her multi-layered gag spoke of a mortal fear of what was about to ensue. As it turned out, however, they needn’t have panicked over the fear of being strung up...at least not by their necks.
Having reached the timber scaffold, Dolores’ three obedient subjects quickly set to work releasing the leg irons that both Cathy and Bethany had been shackled with all morning. With her ankle bracelets removed, Cathy was manoeuvred to a spot directly beneath one arm of the gibbet, whilst Bethany was relocated to the other. As if taking part in a synchronised performance, each prisoner’s personal guard forced her unwilling charge into a sitting position on the grass, before grabbing her ankles and swiftly binding them together with rope. With this task soon accomplished, and safe in the knowledge that their detainees couldn’t run away, the process of hanging the two frightened females up by their feet began, starting with Bethany. Cathy could only watch in powerless horror as her fellow internee had her bound ankles secured to the rope that hung down from directly above her. Then the winching process began, slowly and deliberately, until Bethany was almost upended with only her shoulders and head still in contact with ground. And soon even the luxury of this contact with terra firma was denied to her, as the hoisting action continued until she was swinging about three feet above the lush grass. Securing the rope firmly to the post, Bethany was left hanging once more, whilst the enthusiastic trio set about showing Cathy what it was like to view the world from a completely different perspective.
With her head soon swaying back and forth in the breeze, Cathy squealed as the pink- suited woman took hold of her hips and forcefully spun her around, leaving her to rotate out of control. And from the squeal that issued from the general direction in which Bethany was positioned, she deduced that a similar course of action had been instigated for her bondage buddy.
As the momentum of the gyration gradually diminished, Cathy watched her three tormentors turn away from the scene of their latest crime and walk away towards the house, until, within seconds, they had disappeared from sight. Cathy looked across at Bethany, who was also trying to stem her own revolving motion, and guessed that this was all that they had to look forward to for probably the next few hours. There was to be one further brief episode of human contact prior to their complete abandonment, however.
Only a minute or so after the latex-clad trio had retired, from somewhere close at hand, the sound of a window creaking open reached the two inverted captives’ ears, and both twisted their bodies around to face the source of this disturbance. Standing at the now open downstairs casement, the head and upper part of Dolores’ body could be seen, and she was calling out to her human laundry.
“Well ladies, my guess would be that it will take around four to five hours for you to dry off completely – assuming it doesn’t rain, of course. Make the most of your stint in the sunshine, because all good things have to come to an end, and unfortunately it will then be back inside for another session of solitary confinement. So have fun while it lasts!”
The window slammed shut again, and the figure of the sadistic Mistress receded into the dark interior of the room.
****
Bethany had presumed that the nightmare of hanging upside down had come to a close with the release of the snare around her ankle. So to find herself once more dangling precariously with her feet way above her head was not something that she was particularly delighted about. There were two small blessings this time around, of course, namely that her leg wasn’t trapped in the circulation-impeding wire, and that the limb from which she now found herself suspended was far sturdier than that unstable tree branch in the woods. But apart from these minor elements of good fortune, the prospect of being abandoned here for hours on end held little appeal.
The drying process proved to be a long, drawn out affair, with the spandex seemingly retaining the moisture that had permeated it far longer than Bethany would have hoped. At first, the breeze which seemed to have picked up in strength as the morning wore on, chilled her to the bone, and the dampness seemed to grip her entire being and refuse to release its icy talons. As time wore on, however, and the heat from the midday sun became stronger, she began to warm up to a more comfortable temperature. The spandex, too, seemed to dry at a quicker pace as the sun reached its zenith, and as the material lost its damp feel, it also seemed to shrink around her body and limbs, making what was a already a body hugging outfit into an even more constrictive second skin.
Bethany looked across at Cathy, who had been hanging in a state of immobility for the past hour or two now. As their eyes met, Bethany made a half-hearted attempt at releasing her wrists from the rigid handcuffs, as if to encourage Cathy to do likewise; just in case, by some miraculous occurrence, their manacles had somehow unlocked themselves. But all she heard was a soft squeaking sound coming from her unforgiving bracelets, which set her wondering about the effect the water would have on the release mechanism. Would the locks have rusted up by the time Dolores decided that a change in their method of bondage was called for? Her logical mind doubted that the process of corrosion would be that swift, but with all the other trials and tribulations that had befallen her since last night, she found that a pessimistic state of mind now had her in its grasp.
****
After what must have been more than five hours of swinging gently and helplessly in the breeze, with the afternoon sun now slowly descending over the woods, finally the two now reasonably dry damsels heard a noise from the direction of the building. It was the first sign of human presence since Dolores’ shouted message from the window, and Cathy had been wondering whether they had simply been forgotten about. The image of Dolores strolling nonchalantly across the courtyard, accompanied by her fake policewoman friend and the snarling Fang, was observed from her now familiar upended stance, and as the two women approached she could hear that they were laughing and joking together. As the evil pair drew nearer, Penelope held back whilst Dolores approached to within inches of the spot where Cathy was suspended.
Placing her hands on her captive’s calves, the Mistress ran her hands up her prisoner’s legs, gently caressing her thighs, her abdomen, and finally her breasts before retracing this route in the opposite direction. Cathy shivered at first and tried to shy away from this unwanted attention. But slowly, as the fingers eased gently across the now moisture-free spandex, she began to find the sensation of human contact, after so long in a state of solitary limbo, a real comfort. And as Dolores’ touch continued to stroke sensuously, she found the first spark of sexual arousal ignite in her loins, and seconds later she groaned into her layered gag as Dolores’ hand inched between her legs and began rhythmically gliding back and forth. It took less than a minute for her orgasm to explode in her, and she found herself bucking and writhing in order to extract the maximum pleasure from this unexpected experience. Part of her rational brain cursed herself for allowing such a thing to happen whilst she was being otherwise so poorly treated. But her basic carnal instincts overrode her more logical self and allowed her to simply enjoy the moment. Soon however, with her work done, Dolores’ teasing fingers ceased fondling the now severely hot and bothered young captive.
“Hmm, the washing seems just about dry I think, although there seems to be a moist patch forming between your legs darling. I wonder how that happened.”
She winked and smiled at Cathy, then began sauntering over to Bethany; her long hair shining in the afternoon sun and blowing freely in the breeze as she made the short journey to the other strung up female. Cathy watched as her fellow captive was treated to a similar fingertip inspection of her tightly cat-suited body. And it wasn’t long before it became obvious, from the moans that filtered through her gags, that Bethany, too, was undergoing very similar sensory delights to those that Cathy had just had the pleasure of experiencing.
****
Although having just stimulated sexual ecstasy in both her unwilling house guests, Dolores showed very little sign of emotion, and as soon as Bethany had reached her climax, she immediately turned to more practical matters. Having satisfied herself that the pair had dried off sufficiently, she began to release Bethany from her suspension. This took no more than a few seconds, before the still handcuffed and foot-bound captive found herself winched gently to the ground and momentarily left lying in a heap on the turf. And soon Cathy found herself enduring a similar fate, as she too was lowered unceremoniously down to land on her back. With both now safely earthbound, Dolores backed away to where Penelope had remained standing for the past few minutes, still trying to keep her canine companion under control.
“Well girls, I hope you’ve enjoyed your session out in the open today. Now it’s almost time for your readmission to the house. But before we do that, there’s someone here who’s been straining at the leash since this morning to say hello to you.”
She turned to the blonde woman in the police uniform.
“Time to let Fang get a bit better acquainted with Cathy and Bethany, don’t you think Penny?”
Struck dumb with fear, Cathy could only watch as the bogus cop smiled and unhooked the leash from Fang’s collar.
“Go on Fang. Kill!”
The dog needed no second invitation, and charged headlong towards the manacled pair. From her position only a few feet away, Cathy heard Bethany shriek with fright as the now unrestrained animal raced the few yards to where the two helplessly bound women squirmed in fright.
With their limbs fettered and useless to them, there seemed no way now that they could avoid being savagely mauled by a creature whose bloodthirsty fangs and sharp claws drew nearer by the second.
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24.09.17
story continues in The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 12: The Training Room
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