Part One: Shock
Sarah Laughton woke up and looked round her bedroom. It was daylight outside but she didn't know what the time was. She panicked; thinking she'd overslept. She glanced at her clock and saw it was late morning. She'd have to ring the school and apologise for being late.
"Just a minute," Sarah thought, "They'd have rung me to find out what had happened, so why haven't they?" She lay still and eventually realised she didn't have to go into school today. It was the summer holidays.
So why was she still in bed?
Sarah realised she was lying on top of bed. Her arms seemed to be twisted round her back and her ankles were pressed together. Her legs also seemed to have been pulled up. Sarah started to raise herself up to move her arms and found she couldn't. Her wrists were also pressed together and she realised they were bound. She gave her hands a tug and found her legs moved at the same time. Sarah rolled herself onto her back, feeling her bound hands press against her buttocks. She tried to stretch her legs and found they were bent up at the knees. She also found that when she moved her legs forward so did her hands. With her fingers Sarah felt rope around her wrists and realised that they were attached by another rope to her ankles. There was also a gag in her mouth which she bit on.
She was tied up!
For a moment Sarah thought she'd been kidnapped. Then she realised she was still in her own bedroom. She could see her laptop on the desk near the window along with her animal watercolours hanging on the walls. Sarah tried struggling against the ropes. They were tied tightly and all she could do was roll on the mattress. She felt her long, brown, frizzed hair spread around her like a mane.
Sarah stopped struggling, lay on the bed and listened. She heard birdsong, a distant car and the soft ticking of her bedside clock. The house was silent.
She heard movement downstairs.
Sarah remembered. She'd answered the door to receive the shopping she'd ordered on line from her local supermarket and had been attacked at the same time. Her attacker had forced her upstairs and tied her up.
And he was still in the house!
Sarah remembered now that apart from forcing her upstairs her attacker had not assaulted or raped her. The only pain she felt were from the ropes. She now noticed she was wearing a bikini. She'd never worn one before. Whenever she went swimming she always wore a one-piece swimsuit. The bikini she wore was a string type with her breasts in triangular cups and skimpy briefs. It was also red with white polka dots. It left her feeling exposed.
Sarah heard her attacker come upstairs. He came into the bedroom and Sarah looked up at him. He was young, nineteen she guessed, with attractive, boyish features. Sarah noticed his firm mouth and wide, brown eyes. His hair was shorted and spiked with gel. He was slim with a strong, athletic body shown off by the dark blue swimming trunks he wore. The boy held something in his hands and Sarah saw it was a small Samsung digital camera which buzzed as he turned it on. Sarah involuntary jerked as the camera's zoom lens opened and popped out; making occasional clicking noises. It flashed and bleeped and Sarah realised he'd taken her picture.
What was he doing?
Sarah moaned into her gag as the boy took another picture of her lying on the bed, turned towards him. He moved closer and Sarah guessed that the LCD monitor at the back of the camera showed her head and shoulders and body down to her thighs. The boy spread her hair out so that it was like a train behind her head and took another picture.
The boy then gently turned Sarah round on the bed. From the way he'd postioned her Sarah guessed that he had her whole body in view with her head at the foot of the bed and her bound feet behind her. No doubt the ropes that that bound her wrists and ankles together were also in view. He adjusted her postion so that Sarah's breasts were thrust forward and her bound wrists rested on her backside. Sarah's eyes widened and she bit on the moistened gag as he photographed her again.
The boy moved behind her and Sarah felt herself being turned on to her stomach. She heard another bleep behind her and guessed he must have photograped her buttocks: enclothed in the smooth lycra. She felt completely helpless. She was no longer a woman but a toy.
Sarah was turned over on to her back and looked up at the boy. He smiled at her and removed the gag from her mouth allowing Sarah to gasp out his name: "Tommy. Tommy Swan!"
* * *
Sarah sat on the toilet in her bathroom with her hands tied behind her back. She watched Tommy Swan fill up her bath and add bath cream to the water. As he did Sarah looked at herself in the large bathroom mirror which covered two thirds of the opposite wall. She saw a woman aged thirty-five with an oval-shaped face; wide, brown eyes; a slim nose and a firm mouth with soft, full lips. Maybe she was attractive but when you looked at the same face in the mirror every day you weren't sure about it. She also had long, brown, frizzed curls which she had caused the pupils at the school where taught to give her the nickname: "Miss Fuzzhead". Her body was slim which she saw was shown off by the bikini.
Sarah looked back at Tommy. His body was firm and without any fat on it: a body that was regularly exercised. Sarah remembered he'd been a good swimmer at school. Perhaps she could use that to win him over and not hurt her.
"Do you still go swimming Tommy?" she asked.
"Yes Miss," Tommy answered. "I go two to three times a week when I'm not driving". He smiled and said: "You really look nice in that bikini. I got it especially for you".
Sarah looked at the bath and asked: "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to give you a bath," Tommy replied. He came over and eased down the bikini bottoms, Sarah lifting her feet out of them. He then stood her up and after untying her hands slipped off the bikini top leaving Sarah naked. Tommy then tied her up again and gently lowered her into the bath. The soft bubbles eased over and caresed her body. Sarah leaned against the back of the bath with her hands tied behind her and felt the ends of her hair dip into the water.
Sarah watched Tommy pick up the plastic jug she used for washing her hair. She tensed and shut her eyes as she felt the water run down her breasts and her hair become plastered to her scalp. Cool shampoo was then poured on and her scalp massaged. She felt Tommy's hands were very gentle; rubbing and stroking her. She felt the shampoo rinsed off and her hair rubbed with one of her large, soft bath towels. The towel gently rubbed her eyes and opening them, Sarah saw Tommy get up to fetch the conditioner. He put the conditioner on her hair, slicking it back from her forehead and pressing in her waves.
Tommy then soaked a sponge and Sarah let him lather her body. He rubbed her breasts and Sarah felt them become erect and itch. She gasped and she saw Tommy stop and look anxiously at her. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.
"Its all right," Sarah answered. "Go on",
Sarah saw her breasts rise and fall and her breathing increased as Tommy continued to lather her down. Her whole body was wet and soapy and the thought entered Sarah's head that he was washing away her schoolteacher self to turn her into something else. She looked down and saw Tommy start to rub the soapy sponge between her legs. He was so beautiful with his slim, panther like body. Sarah suddenly felt this was what she wanted: an attractive man having his way with her and she was unable to stop him. Her breathing became faster and she suddenly felt a tingle in her clitoris. She shuddered in the warm water.
He stopped and Sarah leaned her head back against the bath and moaned softly. She hadn't climaxed but she felt her crotch tingling. Tommy, her former pupil, had invaded her home and made her his prisoner. He could do whatever he wanted to her. She let herself be lifted out of the bath and towelled down.
* * *
Sarah sat in her kitchen watching Tommy make tea and toast. He'd dressed her in the bikini again before tying her to one of her dining room chairs. The air was cool against her bare skin but Sarah felt beads of sweat on her body. She wondered if it was due to the heat from the bath or tension she felt.
"Are you going to rape me?" she asked Tommy.
"Not while we're eating", Tommy answered. "It'll only cause indigestion". He smiled at her again and Sarah saw his gaze drop down to her breasts.
"I have a light covering of marmalade as well as the margarine," Sarah told him. "And cut the crusts off as well. I don't like them.
"I always like the crusts," Tommy said. He did as he was told, then untying Sarah he led her into the dining room, sat her down and bound her again before putting the tea and toast in front of her.
"I can't eat it with my hands tied", Sarah said.
"You don't have to," Tommy replied and picking up a slice he fed her.
Sarah chewed her toast slowly. She thought of drawing it out but knew it was only putting off the inevitable. Funny how Tommy had not raped her straight away she thought. Maybe he was toying with her. She knew Tommy had been cheeky towards her at school but it had always been a respectful cheekiness. He'd always known not to take it too far.
Would the same apply now that he was grown up?
Sarah snapped: "Tommy stop it. I don't want anymore!"
"Aren't you hungry?" Tommy asked.
"I don't want any more", Sarah replied sharply. "I might throw up over you!"
"OK", Tommy said quietly and Sarah realised what she'd done. She saw his expression harden and panicked. "Tommy no...!" she pleaded.
Tommy picked up the slice of toast that was left and pulling down her bikini cups exposed her breasts and rubbed the bread into them. Sarah gasped as she felt the hard, sticky grain then cried out as she felt Tommy's tongue lick her breasts. She felt it lap against her nipple, hardening it before turning to the other one. When he'd finished Tommy squeezed her breasts causing Sarah to wince.
She looked at Tommy. "Why don't you rape me now", she demanded. "Get it out of your system and then you can boast about having fucked your former schoolteacher!"
Sarah saw Tommy's expression had softened and his chest was rising and falling as he panted. Her attitude towards him softened and she asked: "What's wrong with you Tommy?"
"Nothing's wrong," Tommy answered. "I just want you!".
Sarah felt numb. She stared at Tommy and felt there was still a child inside him, highlighted by his boyish features. "I think you need help Tommy" she said gently.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because what you've done to me is wrong", Sarah stated. "You've imprisoned me against my will". She was about to add that he was sick but stopped herself.
Tommy got up and went into the kitchen. He came back with some damp paper towels and wiped down her breasts. He dried them with another towel and replaced the bikini cups. He then untied Sarah and led her into the front room where he took the 'phone off it's base. Sarah saw him punch out nine-nine-nine on the pad. "Call the police", he said firmly, giving her the 'phone. "You can tell them I forced my way into your home and raped you. I won't deny it!". He gave her the 'phone and Sarah heard the operator say: "Emergency Services. Which service do you require?"
Sarah ended the call and put the 'phone back on it's base.
"Why did you that"? Tommy asked.
Sarah thought how ridiculous it was: imprisoned in her own home wearing a bikini by an attractive teenage boy in swimming trunks who'd assaulted her with a slice of toast. How could that be explained? She looked at Tommy who stared back at her puzzled. "Tommy", Sarah began. "If I'd called the police there would be an investigation. They'd conclude you were disturbed or insane and send you to a psychiatric ward and I don't want that to happen to you".
"You're thinking about you're career as well", Tommy said. "It wouldn't look good having a relationship with a former pupil".
"Thank you for your consideration" Sarah said sarcastically but she knew he was right. There would be questions over her conduct; allegations that she'd tempted him and her career would be ruined.
"Look if I do what you want", Sarah said, "Will you then leave me alone?"
"Yes I will", Tommy replied.
"And promise that you won't hurt me", she added.
"I promise you I won't", Tommy said firmly.
Sarah looked at Tommy and asked: "Now what?"
* * *
Sarah sat on her sofa while Tommy tied her hands behind her back. He then wrapped ropes around her arms and over and under her breasts before tying them to the front of her bikini top and securing them with a knot. He then bound her ankles and attached the rope to the knot, drawing up her legs and leaving Sarah in a hog-tied postion. Finally he'd gagged her, pushing the gag into her mouth and forcing Sarah to bite on it.
"Please God, look after me!" Sarah prayed.
She looked round her front room. It was normal with her flat screen television and DVD player in one corner, next to the window through which sunlight streamed. On the other side of the window was her pendulum wall clock casually ticking away. In front of her was her electric fire surrounded by an imitation Neo-Classical white fireplace on which were her birthday cards which she hadn't taken down. Above the fire was a large mirror in a stucco frame that had been in her family for years, and to the right an imitation George III secretaire where she kept her papers. The pictures on the walls were simple: some photographic blowups of Venice and a watercolour of a collie dog herding sheep in a lakeside valley which was entitled: "Friendly Persuasion".
"This is my home," Sarah thought. "And here I am tied up!"
Tommy came and stood before her. He was still wearing his trunks and Sarah saw a bulge at the front of them. He was tempting her with his near nakedness and Sarah realised how humiliated she was tied up and wanting him.
"Are you all right, Miss?" Tommy asked.
Sarah moaned in her gag and strained against the ropes. She could feel how tight they were.
Tommy produced his camera and Sarah realised he was going to photograph her again. "Don't be frightened," she told herself. "Try to relax; he's just taking your picture." But she was never photographed bound in a bikini.
Tommy took a picture of Sarah with her legs drawn up on the sofa and with her head tilted back. He came closer and took another of her in the same postion. He moved to his left and Sarah guessed he now had a three-quarter view of her, looking down her cleevage and with her knees in view. "Keep looking at me, Miss", Tommy told her. He pressed the shutter and the flash went off.
"There'll be a lot of red eye in the pictures, Miss," Tommy told her. "But I can always get rid of it in the editing."
"Just as you'll get rid of me when you're finished," Sarah thought. The idea entered her head that Tommy would murder her and bury her body in the woods nearby. There were several quiet, dense clearings where a body could be buried.
Sarah whimpered in her gag. She felt tears well up but she told herself to be strong. If she started crying then Tommy might be delighted with her humilation. She sniffed instead and bit through the wet gag on her lower lip.
Tommy moved to his right. "Turn round and face me," he demanded. Sarah looked at him and he waved his hand to his right. "Shuffle round on your bottom," he added.
Sarah struggled round, using her bound hands and feet and grunting into her gag. She heard a faint bleep and saw Tommy pointing the camera at her again. He wasn't taking any pictures and was following her shuffling on the sofa. Then Sarah realised he'd switched on the camera's video mode. As well as photographing her Tommy was also shooting movies of her.
"Tommy you bastard!" she swore at him but it was muffled by the gag. She realised the irony. She'd always been careful never to swear in front of the children: pointless when she heard them use bad language in break time.
Sarah felt she was going to fall without the back of the sofa to support her, so she leaned her left side against it. She panted through her gag due to the exertion.
"That's fine Miss; look at me," Tommy told her. She moaned and looked at him while he took another picture. "Turn your head away from me now, Miss," Tommy said, "But keep looking towards me". Sarah moved her head slightly but kept her eyes towards him as he photographed her again.
Sarah realised that there was music playing in the room from her portable CD player. She recognised it as Felix Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. She always found it passionate yet restrained and gentle; depicting a simple, more civilised time than the frantic, stressful, arrogant world that she always found tiring. She always played Mendelssohn to help her relax or when she was marking or writing reports. Now she felt it had been perverted.
Tommy came up to her and laughing, tipped Sarah onto her back. Tommy photographed her as she rolled on her buttocks, her bound feet in the air and her hands pressing into her back. Her curls were splayed out under her head and down her shoulders. He took full length and portraits of the bound woman while Sarah moaned into her gag. He then turned her on to her right side so her hog-tied body was facing him. The ropes round her front and the way her body was bent thrust out her breasts.
"You're beautiful!" Tommy said, photographing her again. "Thanks, Miss Laughton."
"I'm not a model, Tommy," Sarah thought. "Why are you doing this?"
* * *
Sarah sat on the floor in the upstairs front room. Her back pressed against the radiator and her hands were tied to the pipe behind her. She was glad it wasn't on. Because of the lack of space Sarah had drawn up her legs next to her. She still wore her bikini and she wasn't gagged.
The room was small: most of the space taken up by a built-in cupboard, a chest of drawers and two book cases which towered over her. She'd crammed all her books on to them which ranged from set school books such as "Hamlet", "Pride and Prejudice", "David Copperfield" and "Jane Eyre" to "War Horse", "The Day of the Triffids", "The Woman In Black", "The Murder of Roger Ackroyd" and "Five O' Clock". On the wall above one of the cases was a print of John Constable's "The Haywain".
Sarah watched Tommy set up the camera on a mini tripod so that it was pointing at her. Though it was still daylight he'd drawn the curtains and turned on the light. She was waiting for her next humilation and it made her angry with Tommy. She'd always treated him with a firm but kind manner. She remembered him to be intelligent and sensible even if he'd had an unconventional view of the world. What had made him become her captor?
Or perhaps he'd been like that all along!
Sarah kept her voice firm and asked: "What's going to happen now?"
"You're an explorer who's been captured, stripped and tied up by a primitive tribe," Tommy answered. "They're performing a ritual dance prior to cooking and eating you. When I turn this on I'm going to leave you and you've got to pretend that you're tied up and struggling at the stake."
"I thought that part was for real!" Sarah said dryly.
"Sorry, Miss," Tommy replied. "It's what's called "method acting."
"There's certainly madness in your methods", Sarah stated.
"You've also got to cry out: beg for help," Tommy added. "But you know it's hopeless as you're alone in the jungle and nobody's coming to save you." He pressed the shutter to record and turned on the portable CD player which he'd bought upstairs. He then went out of the room.
"Tommy come back!" Sarah called after him.
Tommy had closed the door and she was alone.
Sarah looked at the camera which stared back at her, recording her further degradation. The air was cool against her bare skin. She shuffled on the floor and moved her legs; flexing her feet and wriggling her toes so as to not let cramp set in. She starting breathing heavily.
"Oh God!", she gasped. "Oh God!"
The music coming from the CD player was different. Sarah recognised it as Max Steiner's score for the original version of "King Kong" which her friend Geoffrey had given her. She recognised the piece as "The Aboriginal Sacrifical Dance". It had frantic bass, soaring strings, growling bass and colourful woodwind. It seemed to represent her anxiety and she started struggling against the ropes.
"Tommy you bastard!" she swore.
The music quickened and Sarah pulled at her ropes and panted. Was she fufulling what Tommy wanted or was she really frightened about what he'd do to her.
"Oh God help me!" Sarah cried. "Help me!"
The next track: "Entrance of Kong" was played. The strings became frantic as they were overwhelmed by the rasping brass and pounding bass. Sarah whimpered as she felt herself become the terrified victim.
"Oh God no," Sarah pleaded. "Help me God. Help me!"
She'd always kept her own company. The few relationships she'd had were short-lived and she'd buried herself in her work. No one would know what had happened to her until she failed to return in September. She could still be a prisoner by then, or even dead!
"Tommy!" Sarah called out.
The door remained shut.
Sarah began pulling at the ropes in the hope they would break. They were tied tightly.
"Tommy!"
Sarah's eyes filled with tears and she wanted to cry. "Don't show fear," she said to herself, but she wanted the terror and humilation to stop.
"Tommy, help!" Sarah called.
The music was loud. He probably couldn't hear her. Or maybe he was standing outside the door: enjoying her fear.
"Tommy", Sarah shouted. "Tommy please come back!"
She felt her wrists becoming sore from the rope rubbing against them. Her mouth felt dry. She could feel a slight pain in her leg muscles. Above all she wanted to get up and move around even if it mean't being tied up again.
"Tommy," Sarah sobbed, feeling tears running down her cheeks. "Tommy help me. Help me!"
The door opened and Tommy came in.
"Tommy," Sarah begged. "Let me go. Please let me go!"
Tommy switched off the CD player. "Not yet Miss," he said gently. He switched off the record mode then detaching the camera from the tripod he played back the footage shot on the monitor. Sarah heard her voice coming from the tiny speaker: begging, pleading.
"It's come out very well, Miss", Tommy told her. "You're a very good actress. Maybe you should get an Oscar!".
Sarah felt ashamed.
* * *
Sarah had always hated the step ladder her Father had bought years ago. It was heavy, cumbersome and the hinges to open out the ladder were stiff and liable to catch the fingers. She hated it even more when Tommy set it up in the front room and tied her to it with her arms above her head.
Sarah was tired and thirsty. She also felt like crying, expressing her fear and frustration, and also the pain she felt from the metal rungs of the ladder digging into her back and legs. She didn't feel strong any more.
Tommy had closed the curtains in the front room and turned on the lights. He put switched on the CD player again and Sarah heard the gentle, lyrical strings and woodwind from the opening movement of Beethoven's Symphony No. 6: "Pastoral". It was another one of her favourite pieces to relax to. As it played Tommy photographed her tied to the ladder. He then set it up on the mini tripod, pointing it at her and went into the kitchen. He came back with one of her carving knives. It had a white handle and the blade curved inwards on it's underside before flowing out and ending in a curved point. She'd had that and several other carving knives for years and hardly used them. She should have got rid of them.
She saw Tommy switch on the camera's video mode. He came up to her and put his hand on her cheek. "So you're Miss Laughton who teaches English at St. Thomas' school", he said softly. He ran his hand down her shoulder and onto her right breast which he squeezed. Sarah winced. "Tommy, this has gone too far", she pleaded. "Stop it please!"
"I can't stop. I've only started," Tommy replied calmly. He placed the knife blade on her leg and Sarah felt it's blade cool and metallic against her skin as he moved it up and down. He then ran the blade gently up her leg and on to her bikini bottoms. He slipped the blade inside them and Sarah tensed as she felt it against her crotch.
Tommy took the blade out and slid the knife on to her stomach. He took the blade away and Sarah tensed as he felt him dig his finger into her belly button and twist it round. "Nice, very nice", he said gently as she writhed in response. He took his finger out and placing the knife blade against her stomach again he skimmed the blade over her navel and up towards her breasts which rose and fell as Sarah's breathing increased.
"Tommy, remember your promise!" she gasped. "I'll scream!"
Tommy looked up at her, his face calm. "Then I'd gag you" he said
"Tommy, no. Please no!" Sarah pleaded. "Why are you doing this?"
"I always kidnap beautiful schoolteachers, tie them up and torture them," Tommy answered. He smiled and Sarah suddenly thought of the knife plunging into her.
He moved the knife on to her breasts and used the blade to gently stroke them one after other. Sarah felt it against her nipples which were became erect inside her bikini top. "Please Tommy stop it," Sarah sobbed. "Tommy you promised!". Her bound hands clenched and unclenched and she felt the palms of them were moist.
Sarah felt the blade slide under her chin. She shut her eyes. "No Tommy", she begged. "Please - don't kill me!"
Sarah felt the blade gently dig into her skin and she felt her head tilting back. She shut her eyes tightly and felt that her neck was now exposed and the final act of her torture would be her death. She suddenly thought that Tommy would even film her burial. She imagined standing before her class: tied up in the bikini and all the pupils enjoying her humiliation.
The tears came out from under her eyelids and ran down her cheeks.
"Miss?" she heard Tommy ask.
The pressure under her chin eased. Sarah opened her eyes and saw Tommy had taken the knife away from her. He walked back to the camera and turned it off.
Sarah started crying.
She wept as Tommy untied her from the ladder and sat down with her on the sofa. She was shaking as well and clung to Tommy. It didn't matter that he'd tortured her; she wanted someone to hold her and take away the stress she suffered. Sarah felt Tommy's arms go round her and gently pull her against him. She felt her hair being stroked and Tommy say to her gently: "I'm sorry Miss. It's all right now, it's all right. I won't hurt you!"
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24.10.12
story continues in Thanks, Miss Laughton 2: Salvation
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