The Billionairess

Walter Hammond

Part 1

What, Mummy and Daddy both killed? Wendy reeled in shock when she heard that there had been a plane crash, with everyone on board confirmed dead. Of course, in the back of her mind she knew that he wasn't her real father, but she was very young when her father had died, and she barely remembered him. Mummy's second husband had been the only father she'd known for over twenty years, and he had adopted her, so she proudly bore his surname of Wilkins.

The only flaw in her very happy family life had been her stepbrother Brent, from her stepfather's first marriage. He bitterly resented her mother, blaming her for his parents' divorce. That was monumentally unfair. His first wife Lilith had been repeatedly unfaithful to him, not vice versa. Bitterly unhappy, he had been contemplating divorce when Wendy's real father died. Her mother was then his secretary, and it was scarcely surprising that they had consoled each other. And she had been very good for him. He told Wendy many times that her encouragement and support had been essential in turning his relatively small business into the international behemoth that it had become and earning him his knighthood. He had given Lilith a generous settlement, more than twice what she deserved, he had told Wendy, and had enjoyed a very happy marriage with her mother.

So Brent resented her mother, calling her a gold-digger, a trollop and worse names; he resented the affection that his father bestowed on Wendy; he was jealous of her first class honours degree from the University of London and MBA with distinction from the London Business School. She had been immensely relieved when he moved out. But as the tears rolled down her cheeks, she hoped that their common grief would ensure that they would now be on better terms.

Brent took the news more philosophically. He, like Wendy, worked for Wilkins Industries. He took it for granted that with his father gone, he would take over as the CEO. Much as he resented Wendy, he would certainly keep her in her job. She was very good at it, and anyway he would enjoy being her boss. Also, at the age of 28 she was a stunning blonde with an excellent figure, so she was good eye candy for the staff. Indeed, he would love to bed her, and had wanted to since she was about 16 and had looked so amazingly innocent and sexy in her school uniform, but as she was technically his sister, he knew that wasn't on.

The funeral was relatively modest. It would have taken weeks to organise the funeral that someone as eminent and widely respected as Sir Henry Wilkins deserved. It would have been attended by industrialists, politicians, religious leaders and heads of charities from several countries. There would be a memorial service in Westminster Abbey in a few months, when all these people could be invited. There was someone at the funeral who looked familiar to Wendy, but it took her a little time to identify him. Of course, it was Uncle George, her real father's brother. He was a mysterious character. All her mother knew was that he'd been an army officer and was now some sort of civil servant, she didn't know what. He came and hugged her affectionately. He was very solicitous, ensuring that he was with her throughout the service and clasped her hand whenever she was about to burst into tears. As he left, he hugged her again and said, "Always remember Wendy, some people think they're above the law. Maybe they are, unless the law gets a helping hand." She didn't quite understand, but she was very grateful and made a mental note to stay in touch with him.

After the funeral came the reading of their father's will. Wendy had already seen her mother's will and knew that she would inherit the great majority of her mother's estate, including her ten percent of the shares in Wilkins industries, but she had no idea about her father's will. She and Brent met at the solicitor's office. She saw no obvious sign that Brent was being any more friendly than normal. Obviously, she thought, he's not mourning the loss of Mummy, but I expect he's grieving over Daddy as much as I am. Maybe he'll change once he gets over this a bit; I do hope so. Families need to stick together. I wonder how Lilith is reacting.

They went into the lawyer's office. He was about 40 and of course wearing an expensive suit and silk tie. Brent introduces him to Wendy, and he looked her up and down as he expressed his sympathy at their bereavements. Wendy quickly realised that he fancied her, even though he was wearing a wedding ring. He gave them each a copy of the will. "It's quite a lengthy document," he began, "but I can summarise its main provisions. Unfortunately, the bequests to his wife are now null and void. You two are the main remaining beneficiaries."

Most of the estate was split evenly between them. The house was given to Brent, with the stipulation that Wendy could live there, rent-free, for a year from the date of probate. Wendy was surprised, as Brent already had his own house. Then came the company. They would each get half of his shares, thirty percent of the company. Since Wendy would get her mother's shares, she realised that she would be by far the largest shareholder. She could see that Brent was getting excited; she knew that he was hoping and expecting to become the CEO. But the lawyer read out, "I request the board of Wilkins Industries to appoint my adopted daughter, Wendy Janet Wilkins, formerly known as Wendy Janet Redfern, as the CEO." Wendy was quite taken aback. She saw Brent's jaw drop, and an expression of rage crossed his face. She knew that he would now hate her more than ever.

"Oh, well, if Daddy wanted me to take over the company, then of course I'll do it," she said. "It's three weeks to the next board meeting."

Brent went off in a huff without saying goodbye to her or the solicitor. She went home in a daze. I must move out of the house, she thought; well, I'm not sure that I'd want to stay in it – too many things to remind me of Mummy. I can easily afford to live anywhere I want. But Daddy wants me to take over as the head of the firm! Am I ready for the job? Presumably, he was scarcely expecting me to get it so soon; he was probably planning not to retire for another ten years. And he was never very confident that Brent was up to the job.

The next three weeks went by in a whirl for Wendy. Everyone at the firm seemed to be delighted that she was taking over. While she was of course already familiar with the firm, she had a string of meetings with people to improve her knowledge of all aspects.

Meanwhile, Brent had not been idle. He had discussions with several people. Many were unhappy about having a boss who was a 28-year-old girl. One or two were worried about whether they could keep their jobs. He believed that if he could get Wendy out of the picture, he could persuade a majority of the board to give him the job. Now, how to get rid of her? He formulated a plan.

It was Saturday and the board meeting would be the following Monday. Wendy had an appointment to get her hair done. She also wanted to buy a new outfit so she would look her best for the meeting. It was great fun to spend a few hours just wandering around the shops, and for the first time since the dreadful news of the plane crash, she felt rather cheerful. Whenever she dressed up, it made her feel more confident. She'd be wearing matching black silk bra, thong and suspenders and silk stockings. Over that she'd wear a silk blouse and a designer two piece. Of course, the outfit would be completed with designer stiletto shoes and matching handbag. Yes, the cost of all this was jolly steep, but what did she care? She'd soon be the richest woman under 30 in Britain and possibly the most influential. She returned home at seven o'clock, laden with her purchases.

To her amazement, Brent was there to greet her. "Hello Wendy, you are just in time for dinner. I called and found you were out shopping. I hope you don't mind, but I sent the staff home. I figured we should have a good meal, just the two of us." He had spread out a meal in the dining room of grilled chicken and vegetables. He poured out some of her favourite white wine and they sat down. "Things have really changed a lot over the last few weeks for both of us. It has been crazily busy, and we have not really had a chance to talk about the future. The board meeting is in two days. What are your plans?"

"I know the company pretty well of course. I've had lots of meetings with people to make sure I'm aware of all I need to know, and I’ll have more," she replied. "As far as I can see at present, my priority would be to have some reorganisation and rationalisation. As you know, we've taken over several companies in the last few years, and as a result there's a lot of duplication and inconsistency across the firm. And there are some odd corners of the firm that are utterly not part of our core business. Did you know that we own a kindergarten in Brazil? I'll get rid of that for a start. And there are two or three heads that might roll."

She suddenly felt very tired. Well, she thought, I've had a hectic, not to mention traumatic time and I need an early night.

Brent smiled. "Well, I am sure there is a lot of fat you will skim. You do look tired. Go up and get some rest, I will clean up here. See you in the morning."

He was pleased at how quickly the knockout drug he had put in her food was working. He waited a few minutes and then went up to her room. She had passed out face down on the bed, still in her clothes. He went off to get some equipment. Coming back, he located her passport and phone. He used her fingerprint to unlock the phone; this would allow him to hack her e‑mail and Facebook account. My, he thought, how beautiful she is; if only she weren’t my sister. He took some rope and bound her ankles and knees tightly together. He ensured that the knots were on the front. He then bound her wrists behind her. He rolled up the sleeves of her blouse and looped rope around her elbows. She was so limp that it was easy to get her elbows to touch, and he bound them together tightly. She could never reach any knots now, but to be on the safe side he put dollops of superglue on all of them so that they could not be untied. He fastened a heavily padded leather blindfold around her head, buckling it as tightly as he could. He pushed a large ball gag into her mouth; it was so big that he struggled to get it in. He lifted her over his shoulder and carried her down to the room he had prepared in the basement. He put her on the bed there, then he sat down and waited for her to wake up.

Part 2

Slowly, Wendy woke up, still feeling very sleepy. It was pitch black; she could see nothing. What time was it? She tried to open her eyes and realised that they were already open. She tried to move her arms and legs, but they refused to move. What on earth was going on? She called out, but her cry was very muffled and not much sound emerged. Her mouth was full of something that tastes all rubbery. Was she having a nightmare?

She struggled and managed to sit up. Wiggling around, she felt her ankles and realised that there were ropes around them. The shock made her fully alert as she realised that she had been tied up, gagged and blindfolded! Who did it? It must have been Brent. What sort of silly joke was he playing? Could she untie her ankles? She could not find any knots. Could she pull her wrists over her feet to bring her hands in front of her? No, her elbows were pinned together. She paused to think what to do next.

She heard Brent laugh. "You're too tied up to get away now, little sister. You will need to get used to those bonds. You are going to be in them for a few more days." He pulled the ball gag out of her moth and let it rest on her chin.

Oh no, she thought, Brent has gone stark staring crazy. Oh good, he's removed the gag.

"Brent, what are you doing? This is nuts! You can't keep me here. People will miss me. For a start, there's the board meeting …" Then realisation hit her like a thunderclap. Brent wants to steal my job! He'll go there and say that I've changed my mind and he should have the job. The directors I've already had discussions about the future with might be a bit surprised, but it won't occur to them that Brent is lying. And the crustier directors will of course be happy; they'll be relieved not to have a 28-year-old girl as a boss. But where on earth am I? I don't think this is my bed. There's the storeroom in the cellar, which I think had a hospital bed on a big iron frame in it for some reason, so I'm probably there. No window, and a solid lockable door.

"Brent, you can't do this. You know that Daddy wanted me to be the CEO. I …" Brent stuffed a rag into her mouth, filling it. He put the gag back, buckling it as tight as he could. This pushed the rag further in, threatening to choke her. Her mouth was now full to bursting, and she was gagged very effectively. When she continued to try to talk, only an incoherent mumble could emerge.

"Did you really think you could take away what is mine by right, Wendy? You always seemed to get what you want. Now it's my turn; I am going to get what I want. It’s a good thing you’ve decided to leave the country. While you were asleep, I was able to use your fingerprint to get into your phone and your social media accounts. The selfie you are going to post to your friends, your uncle and co-workers shows you getting on the plane and leaving. It wasn’t hard to find a girl who looks close enough to you to use your passport. The e‑mail you sent explained that the loss of your parents was too much for you and you need time to be alone. I think I have left enough of a bread trail that at the board meeting nobody will question that I’m the rightful heir to the company. Once that is done, I will just have to make you disappear permanently. I know a couple of guys who would love to have you as a sex toy; it shouldn't be very hard to get rid of you." Wendy heard the laugh as he pulled up her blindfold so she could see a picture of the girl on his phone. She had to agree that the girl did look remarkably like her, probably enough to pass muster from someone having a quick glance at her passport. "I hope you like that photo, Wendy. It's the last thing you'll see while you're here." He pulled the blindfold back down, leaving her in the dark again.

That confirms it, Wendy though in a panic. Brent is raving mad. Did Daddy realise that? Is that why he didn't want him to be the CEO? I shudder to think what a mess he'll make with running the firm. But why worry about that? Far more urgent is what he might do with me. Brent has probably already done enough to go to prison if it comes out, and he intends to do more, so he can't ever let me get free. He must mean it when he says he wants me to disappear, even if he's bluffing about guys who want me. There are probably one or two accounts that he hasn't hacked, but of course I can't get to them either.

"But you're still fully dressed, Wendy," continued Brent. "We can't have you lying in bed fully dressed, can we?" He undid Wendy's skirt and pulled it off. He cut off her blouse and then her bra. Looking at her firm young breasts was a real turn-on and made him once again regret that she was his sister. He pulled her tights and panties down as far as the ropes around her knees. He grabbed her left hand and squeezed the fingers together, then wrapped tape tightly around them. He did the same with her other hand. Now she could not move her fingers and was even more helpless.

But Brent had not finished. He grabbed her ankles and pulled them up to her waist. Using some rope, he lashed her ankles to her wrists and pulled as tightly as he could, putting her in a stringent hogtie. "Comfy. Just so you know my mother is coming to live in this house. She'll take over your room as you won't be living here much longer. Don't worry about all the money Dad left you. I have already worked out the legal details with the help of our lawyer to transfer it all to me in a few months." Wendy heard a weird motor start up and then something was pressed into her pussy. "This is called a vibrator," explained Brent. "You'll soon find out what it does."

Wendy could feel how severe the bondage was. His mother is coming? Wendy wondered what had happened to the man she was carrying on with before the divorce. He had probably left her years ago because she was unfaithful to him too. She was vaguely aware of vibrators. The one inside her seemed to be at a low setting. She doubted that it could ever make her orgasm; she was just going to get frustrated. Would Brent leave her like this?

"Well, I have so much to do before the board meeting. My mother will love to get better acquainted with you before you go, I think. I will not be too mean to you." Brent used the remote control to turn the vibrator up to its highest setting. "There you go Wendy; now you won’t get bored." He left, and she heard him lock the door. She assumed that he had sent away the staff for a few days. She was all alone in the house with him. The house was detached, standing in large grounds well back from the road. Effectively gagged, and in a windowless room in the basement, there was no conceivable way that she could possibly attract the attention of anyone outside the house.

His mother! That would be a new danger. Would Lilith want to take out her resentment of Mummy on her totally helpless naked body, she worried? She feared that it would be highly likely. He won't be too mean? What a hypocrite! She struggled against her bonds, but it was obviously quite futile. Brent had made all the ropes tight, and they dug into her. She realised that she couldn't possibly reach any knots and anyway she couldn't do anything if she could, with her fingers taped together. She was unaware of the glue on the knots, not that it made any difference.

Meanwhile, the vibrator was having its inevitable effect on her. Despite her fear, panic and anger, nothing could prevent her from having an orgasm. Well, she thought, at least that took my mind off my situation for a few minutes. No doubt I shall have several more before the next stage, which I dread to contemplate.

Wendy was left bound for a long time with the vibrator working its spell on her, she had absolutely no idea how long. She had soon lost count of how many times she was forced to orgasm. She heard the door unlock and then she heard someone walk in. There were loud clicks of stiletto-heeled shoes on the bare concrete floor. "Oh Brent," she laughed, "look what you did to her." Wendy had met Lilith a few times, and would recognise her voice anywhere. Even though Wendy was blindfolded, she could picture the woman clearly, she always wore a tight knee-length dress, high heels, tights and gloves, and carried an expensive purse. Wendy could hear the pleasure in her voice as she ran her gloved hand over Wendy's back under her pinioned arms and through her hair. "It's such a tragedy that your mother is no longer with us, Wendy. You have my sincere condolences," laughed the old lady. "But it means that her daughter must pay her debts."

What debts? Wendy didn't like the sound of that. She rolled Wendy onto her side and rubbed her pussy. "She's been enjoying herself, hasn't she, the little tart." She pulled out the vibrator. "But that's enough fun for today, little business tycoon." Then she fondled Wendy's breasts. "These are really good, young and firm. I bet that her mother's breasts were like this. Your father always liked breasts, Brent, and the floozy must have used hers to maximum advantage. You know, it’s really a pity that you have to get rid of Wendy. I could have ever so much fun with her."

She continued playing with Wendy’s breasts, and then said, "Oh yes, I have a special present for you, young lady." She pulled something over Wendy's head, and Wendy's nostrils were filled with the stink of leather. She fiddled with it and it got tighter and tighter until Wendy felt like her head was being squeezed in a vice. "It's called a bondage hood. It stops your jaw moving and makes sure that you can't make any loud sounds. That will be very useful when you're transported to your new home."

Brent laughed. "I can’t move her until after the board meeting. Once that is done, I have a special outfit for her to wear during the transport." Wendy could feel Lilith still playing with her breasts. It made Wendy wonder if the old lady liked big breasts as well. "Mum, I need you to stay here and make sure she does not get away," said Brent. She started to twist Wendy's nipples and assured Brent, "She's completely safe with me. I'm sure that we will find something to keep ourselves amused until you return."

Once Brent had left, his mother stuck two fingers into Wendy's pussy and felt around. "Ah, it seems that you're still a virgin, little girl. Isn't that sweet? Well, if Brent's plans work out, you won't be a virgin much longer. At your age I was already a mother, and I had two lovers, one male and one female. Women have their advantages as lovers, but of course it's usually men who have the most money. Anyway, Brent hasn't done a bad job of tying you up, but I can think of an obvious improvement."

She rolled Wendy onto her front and cut the toes off her tights. She wrapped some cord tightly around Wendy's big toes. Then she took the free end of the cord up to Wendy's head, threaded it through a loop on the hood, and started pulling. Wendy's head was forced backwards, and her feet were dragged towards her head. By the time Lilith tied off the rope, Wendy felt like a human pretzel. "Now, if I try to lift you up by this rope, the bondage gets even more stringent." She demonstrated by tugging on the rope. "I'm not strong enough to lift you up, but maybe Brent is. We'll have a go when he gets back." Wendy hated to think what it would feel like if he tried. She was then rolled onto her side, and his mother sucked on her nipples until they were both as hard as bullets.

"You're really tremendous fun, Wendy," she laughs. "You're probably the best toy girl I've ever had. I'd love to keep you, but alas you can't stay here."

Brent came back down into the basement and saw how his mother has made Wendy's bondage more stringent. Seeing Wendy's rock-hard nipples, he shook his head. He knew perfectly well that Mum prefers girls to guys. To her, guys were just tools with money. Girls have the right parts. "I see you have kept yourself busy." She looked up and smiled at him. "Wendy is such enormous fun to play with. I'm really enjoying myself. How much time do we need to have her for?" Brent smiled back at his mother. "Tomorrow is the board meeting, but we will need to keep her down here for a few days after that. I am still trying to figure out how I can get my hands on all her money. Where she will be going, she won’t need any money, will she?" His mother laughed. "Very good son."

She indicated the rope joining Wendy's toes to her hood. "Try to lift her up using this; I want to make sure I did it right." Brent took the rope and pulled it; he lifted her off the bed and the ropes tightened as gravity pulled Wendy deeper into the ropes as well. The two of them laughed loudly at the sounds Wendy made. He lowered her to the floor at the foot of the bed, and then fixed the rope to the bed frame, leaving her dangling a few inches off the floor. His mother played with her nipples a little and then her bottom. "Mum, let's go up and have some supper; this little slut can hang here until after we've eaten."

The strain on Wendy’s body of being lifted up by that rope was immense. Being left hanging was incredibly awful for her. How long could she bear it? She wished that they'd left the vibrator on her; it might have helped to take her mind off the pain. She frantically sought other mental distractions, but they didn't make her feel any better. Would Brent really traffic her as a sex slave, or was he bluffing? She decided that she wouldn't put anything past him. He had to get rid of her permanently somehow, and that was probably as good a way as any. Would it be someone she already knew? Quite possibly, though she couldn't imagine who it could be. Would it be someone abroad? He could obviously afford to use a private jet to get her out of the country. How much would he get for her? Surely not enough to make much difference to a billionaire. Maybe he'd just give her away to get her off his hands. As for taking all her money, she hoped that there was a lot he couldn't get, wrapped up in trusts for the benefit of her relatives and various charities, but that was scant comfort.

They had gone off to have supper. That reminded her that she'd had nothing to eat or drink all day. If he wanted to traffic her, he was surely not going to let her die of thirst or starvation. Oh, she could hear something. They were returning.


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