Chapter thirteen


Amanda Thornton shuddered. If the cellar in which Isla Lewis was tied was dingy, that was nothing in comparison with the cellar to which Henry and Alyssa Baxter led the bra- and panty-clad F.B.I. agent at gunpoint. It did not lack for windows. But these seemed to let in cold rather than light. What was more, the table, which was the room’s only piece of furnishing, was covered in numerous coils of rope, three balls of twine, several lengths of greying cloth, two rolls of duct tape, cotton wool and a couple of ace bandages. The floor was made of rough concrete and was covered in a film of dirt and dust.

‘All right, Agent Thornton,’ Alyssa announced on arrival. ‘You know the drill. Strip. NAKED. Your bra first.’

Amanda looked around. If only she could take these two, it would all end, there and then. But that was unlikely. Henry Baxter clearly knew his business. He kept his distance and did not release his grip on his gun. Wearily Amanda reached behind her back and fished hesitantly for the clasp at the rear of her bra. Then, for the second time that day, she removed her bra.

‘Throw it here.’

Amanda tossed her bra to Alyssa, noticed Henry Baxter staring at her breasts, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She guessed it would be only temporary respite from his gaze.

Alyssa examined the bra for a minute or so, taking a few seconds to read the tab attached to the inside outer edge of the right cup.

‘Ah, thirty-four C,’ she read. ‘She’s a thirty-four C, Daddy,’ she announced to her father for no reason other than to embarrass Amanda.

It worked. Amanda felt herself blush. She squeezed her arms across her breasts more tightly, flattening them slightly as she did so.

‘Now your panties,’ Agent Thornton.

To remove her panties, of course, Amanda had to lower her arms from where they were crossed defensively across her breasts.

‘Hurry up, Agent Thornton,’ Alyssa barked, noticing the slight delay.

Amanda groaned; then lowered her arms and hooked a thumb under each side of the elastic stretched across her hips. As she wriggled the flimsy panties over her hips and stepped out of them, she was mindful of the display she was giving to Baxter. Standing there in the nude, she used one hand to cover her pubic mound and returned the other to her breasts. She let her panties dangle from the fingers of her lower hand.

Alyssa held out a hand and motioned, and Amanda tossed her panties to her. Alyssa caught them and stuffed them into her left pocket of her tight denims. Then she fished inside her right pocket until she found a small clasp knife. She opened it and then held the blade outwards.

‘You’ll not be needing this again,’ she announced, slicing carefully through the shoulder straps of Amanda’s bra. She held up the ruined garment to show her captive and then cut through the material between the bra’s cups. She momentarily displayed both pieces of bra before tossing them on to the floor.

‘Your panties, in contrast, I have use for,’ she said, patting the outside of her left pocket portentously. ‘I’m sure you can guess what for,’ she sniggered. ‘But first. Catch.’

She withdrew a piece of black material from her right rear pocket and tossed it triumphantly at Amanda. The F.B.I. agent caught it and saw at once that it was the pair of panties that she had earlier taken from Alyssa and used to gag her. The elastic sides had been cut to make the panties unwearable.

‘I saved them for you, Agent Thornton,’ Alyssa announced. ‘Now put them in your mouth.’

The material was still damp with Alyssa’s saliva. Amanda looked despondently at the garment. Then, she opened her mouth and began to stuff it inside.

‘Right in,’ Alyssa ordered. ‘After all, you’ve a second pair to make space for.’

Amanda retched as the foul tasting cloth went into her mouth. When it was all in, Alyssa retrieved Amanda’s own panties from her left pocket and sliced through the sides. Then, she tossed them to Amanda.

‘These now,’ she ordered.

Amanda’s mouth already felt full. So it took a great deal of effort, not to mention retching, to get the second pair in.

‘Stuff them into your cheeks,’ Alyssa ordered at one point, with evident glee. When finally, the F.B.I. agent had got both pairs of panties into her mouth, she felt she would choke.

‘Now put your hands behind you, palm to palm,’ Alyssa ordered. ‘And turn around.’

Amanda did as she was told, and grimaced while Alyssa bound her wrists together and cinched the binding. From the feel of the tie, Amanda guessed that she had used the thin cord. This was confirmed when seconds later, more of the twine drew her elbows together and tied those too, once again cinching the bond.

"Mnnnnnggg, nnnnngg,’ Amanda groaned.

‘Hurts does it, sweetie,’ Alyssa crowed. Not that she let up. Amanda’s breasts were already pushed out from the elbow tie, and her shoulders were aflame. But Alyssa made it worse by winding a second turn of twine around her elbows, this time above the joint.

"Mnnnnnggg, nnnnngg,’ Amanda groaned again, as Alyssa tugged on the ends and knotted it.

‘Oh, come, Agent Thornton. Such a fuss at a little discomfort,’ Alyssa chided. She took another piece of cord and used it to tie Amanda’s thumbs together. ‘Turn back round,’ she ordered when she had finished.

Amanda turned, giving a full frontal display to Henry Baxter in the process, to see Alyssa holding a length of cloth. By the look of it she had chosen the dirtiest piece. She tied an overhand knot in it. Then a second. Then a third. When she was happy that the knot was large enough, she turned her attention to Amanda’s gag.

The panties had come out a little. Alyssa pushed them back into Amanda’s mouth, before pressing the knot between Amanda’s teeth. This pushed the two pairs of panties even further down Amanda’s throat. But worse was to come. For when Alyssa took the two ends behind Amanda’s head and tied them as tightly as she could, the panties went in even more.

‘I’ll finish your gag off later,’ Alyssa announced to a dismayed Amanda Thornton. The idea that her gag needed finishing off in any way amazed and horrified her.

Alyssa brought the ball of twine around in front of the F.B.I. agent and cut off an excessively long length. ’You’ve a small waist,’ she announced, twisting the twine around Amanda’s middle. ‘What does it measure? Twenty four inches? Well, we’re see if we can improve on that.’

She was wrong. Amanda’s waist measured a trim twenty-three inches. And her hips were a perfect thirty four.

‘Breathe in,’ Alyssa ordered, as she looped the twine around Amanda’s waist three times. Amanda watched with alarm as she took a stout grip on each end of the waist cinch.

‘Nnnngggnnnngg,’ Special Agent Amanda Thornton groaned into the vile-tasting panty gag, which filled her mouth and stretched her jaw, as Alyssa dragged the twine desperately tight. When the hard twine bit into the soft skin around Amanda’s middle, Alyssa stopped and contemplated her efforts for a second. But she was evidently unsatisfied.

‘A little tighter, I think,’ Alyssa pronounced, solemnly.

‘Nnnnggggnnnnngg,’ Amanda groaned again, as the cord was pulled even tighter. She looked down despondently as Alyssa, now satisfied, knotted the cord at her navel.

‘Just something to anchor your wrists to, Agent Thornton,’ Alyssa crowed. ‘Of course, after the way you treated me, I’m going to anchor them the long way around. Know what I mean, Agent Thornton?’

She smiled at Amanda’s puzzled look and then reached out and plucked at the mop of pubic hair which gathered gently at the apex of Amanda’s thighs.

‘Hope you don’t blister easily, Agent Thornton?’ she laughed.

She disappeared behind Amanda and attached a length of cord to her wrist binding. As she did so, Amanda began to realise actually what she had in mind and her puzzled expression turned to horror.

‘Legs apart, Agent Thornton,’ she ordered, smiling at Amand’s distress.

She came back round front and watched smiling as Amanda shuffled her feet apart, coyly.

Alyssa wasn’t satisfied. ‘Come on, Agent Thornton,’ she said. ‘You can do better than that. Can’t you? Spread them wide.’

There was no point in resisting. Blushing deeper red, Amanda stretched her legs wider. Alyssa reached between them and took hold of the dangling rope, which she brought up and threaded under the waist cinch at Amanda’s navel. ‘Better make sure this thing sits properly,’ she said with a smile on her face. She reached down and pushed a hand between Amanda’s parted thighs.

‘Mmmmpphhh, mmmphhhhh,’ Amanda griped, as Alyssa none too gently prised Amanda’s labia apart and seated the cord between them.

Then she took hold of the loose end and pulled.

‘Unnnggggg, mmmmpphhhh, nnnnnnggggg,’ Amanda groaned into her gag as the twine bit. ‘Nnnngggnnggg, nnnggggnnnnggh,’ she choked again, her groans turning to howls of protest as Alyssa pulled the cord even tighter before anchoring it to the front of the waist cinch.

Alyssa smiled triumphantly. ‘There that should discourage you from too much sudden movement,’ she crowed.

‘Eeeese, ohhnnn,’ Amanda pleaded, shaking her head in denial, as he tried to come to terms with the line of fire between her legs.

Alyssa reached out and toyed with the F.B.I. agent’s left breast. She smiled again. ‘Hey, you should have thought about it before you tried to escape a second time. Once I could forgive; but twice? Just think, you could have been lying quietly on a bed upstairs right now.’

Yea, naked and spread, Amanda thought ruefully. But that certainly seemed considerably better than her current predicament.

Alyssa looked her over once again. Then, she tested the crotch rope by pushing a couple of fingers beneath the vertical, where the cord emerged from Amanda’s pubic hair.

‘Ummmmmmphhhhh, nnnnggnnnnggg,’ Amanda groaned. The twine was so taught that even that little activity caused her a wave of discomfort.

‘There what do you think, Daddy?’

Henry Baxter slid the gun into his pocket and came across to examine his daughter’s rope work, which he did with excessive paternal pride. Special Agent Amanda Thornton wilted under his probing gaze that took in every inch of her naked breasts and loins. As he examined her nudity, Baxter had the manners and detachment of a doctor examining a naked patient. The look in his eyes, however, was something different. When he too used a couple of fingers to test the stringency of the cord running from between her wrists and her navel, she not only groaned again, she blushed all over.

‘You’ve done well,’ he said, as if praising his daughter’s school record. ‘When you do her legs, make sure you tie her ankles, knees, and thighs. And hog-tie her.’ He smiled. ‘Oh, and tie her upper arms to her chest.’

‘Of course, Daddy,’ Alyssa crooned, her professional pride apparently hurt by the insinuation that she would do any less. She went back to the table and cut off another long length of the brutal cord. ‘Now, where do you want this, Agent Thornton?’ she asked rhetorically. ‘Above your breasts? ...’ She looped the twine loosely around Amanda’s arms and torso in demonstration, before whipping it away. ... ‘Or below your breasts? ...’ She repeated the action, this time looping the twine around below the level of Amanda’s bare breasts.

She stood back, fixed her eyes on Amanda’s nude body and pondered.

‘Yes,’ she said, after a second. ‘We’ll do both those. But first, I think we’ll centre one on your breasts, even though it means squashing them a bit. Of course, it will hurt more. But I think it will add that little bit extra control. Don’t you agree, Daddy?’

‘Of course, Alyssa dear,’ Baxter affirmed.

Alyssa, her professional pride now restored, tied one end the twine tightly around the upper part of Amanda’s left arm, mid way between her elbow and her shoulder. But instead of taking the loose end around front, she moved behind the F.B.I. agent, passing the cord across her back. She took the twine over Amanda’s right arm and round the front. Centring this on Amanda’s breasts, so that it was in line with her nipples, she took the cord back behind Amanda over her left arm and pulled.

‘Hmmmpphhhh, ngggggggnnngg,’ Amanda moaned into her gag. Her left arm was pulled inwards and her breasts were not only flattened, they were divided in two by this second line of fire. But Alyssa wasn’t finished. She looped the twine around the upper portion of Amanda’s right arm and pulled again.

‘Hmmmpphhhh, ngggggggnnngg,’ Amanda repeated. As Alyssa pulled, she not only caused mild rope burn to Amanda’s right arm, she pulled her upper arms even further together than the elbow tie had forced them. This also forced her breasts out even farther, so that they were pushed harder against the breast rope.

"Hmmmphhhh, hmmphhhh,’ Amanda groaned again, chewing at the panties in her mouth. Alyssa knotted the cord at Amanda’s right arm firmly. She went back to the table and cut two more lengths of cord, which she used to tie Amanda’s arms to her torso, first above and then below her grooved breasts.

Alyssa came back around front and looked Amanda’s nude body up and down again, noting the beads of perspiration that, despite the cold, had blossomed on the F.B.I. agent’s naked skin. Then, she once again inserted two fingers under the crotch rope.

‘Ummphhhh,’ Amanda spluttered into her panty gag as Alyssa’s fingers pulled at the cord just above Amanda’s triangle of pubic hair. ‘Ummphhh, nnnggg.’

However, Alyssa was not to be appeased. ‘Looks like pulling your arms further together has created a bit of slack down there, Agent Thornton,’ she announced. ‘Never mind,’ she added, smiling broadly. ‘That can soon be taken care of.’

In fact, the knot was rather bothersome to undo. But that merely made Alyssa even keener to drag down hard on the crotch cord as soon as she had released it from Amanda’s navel.

‘Ummppphhh, nnnnngggm, nnngggggg, nnnngghhhmmmphhh,’ Amanda groaned as the line of fire between her legs was pulled in even more painfully.

When she was once again satisfied, Alyssa knotted it again at Amanda’s navel. Then, she went to the table and cut five more lengths of cord.

‘Lie down,’ she ordered.

Lie down, thought Amanda gloomily. How the hell could anyone be made to lie down tied up like she was? Gingerly, she lowered herself to her knees and then sat back on her ankles. Even that little activity made the crotch rope tear at her. Then she found she could go no further.

But, Alyssa helped. She pushed Amanda on to her side and then watched smiling while she got her legs out straight. Alyssa separated the cord in her hand and used the first piece to bind Amanda’s ankles, cinching the bond down tight. The second piece went below her knees; the third above her knees, and the fourth at mid thigh. Each was cinched down hard, which made Amanda squirm as Alyssa’s hands forced the cord between the soft flesh of her thighs. Then, Alyssa used the final piece to bind Amanda’s big toes together. Even that was cinched. And Amanda noticed that Alyssa had left a long end dangling.

‘On your front, Agent Thornton.’

Amanda rolled over the best she could. But she was not fast enough for Alyssa who pushed her the rest of the way, making Amanda groan as her thrust-out breasts rubbed against the concrete floor. She watched while Alyssa cut yet another length of cord and then felt that secured to her ankle bonds.

‘Ever been hog-tied before, Agent Thornton?’ Alyssa Baxter asked rhetorically, as she doubled up Amanda’s legs.

‘Mmmmpphhhhh, mmmphhhh,’ Amanda choked into her panty-gag as the muscles in her legs fought the cord constricting them.

‘I think we’ll fasten this to your tit rope, Agent Thornton,’ Alyssa explained. ‘Should have the desired effect.’

‘Unngg, ooomphh, nnngg, eechmmm,’ Amanda moaned as her legs were bent back hard. Alyssa twisted the rope from Amanda’s ankles around the two strands between the F.B.I. agent’s upper arms and pulled hard. ‘Nnnggnh, mmphhh, nngggg,’ Amanda groaned again, as her feet went past her bare bottom and over her wrists, until they were nearly at the small of her back. When Alyssa knotted the rope midway between Amanda’s upper arms, the detective found that her body bowed enough to pull her long thighs slightly off the ground. But as soon as she tried to lower her bound legs even a millimetre, she found to her horror that everything tightened up around her chest. The force not only pulled the chest rope tighter into her cinched breasts, it pulled the tops of her arms closer together, putting extra strain on her already wracked shoulders, and pushing out her breasts even more than her elbow and arm ties already mandated, so that they were pressed both against the cutting rope around them and the concrete beneath.

Alyssa watched while the naked F.B.I. agent strained and struggled with her bonds. Amanda soon found that unless she lay perfectly still, the crotch rope tore at her. But lying still was not itself an option, unless she strained to keep a millimetre of slack in the hog-tie, pain came to her chest.

But, Alyssa still wasn’t finished.

‘Now for that gag, Agent Thornton,’ she said, squatting down and taking hold of a clump of Amanda’s hair, which she used to pull her head up. ‘If you ask me, you’ve made far too much noise already.’ She reached to Amanda’s nape and untied the knot at the rear of the cloth. Then, she used a finger and thumb to prod the panties deeper into Amanda’s mouth. She then replaced the knotted cloth, tying it even tighter, and getting the whole of the large knot in behind Amanda’s teeth.

Amanda, aware the allowing herself to retch on the gag would make her convulse, fought her gag reflex. But she failed and in the convulsions that followed she was unable to stop her hands from pulling on crotch rope and her breasts from rubbing against the floor.

Alyssa stopped and watched. Then, she grabbed a roll of duct tape from the table and tore off a strip.

‘Can’t have any noise,’ she chided, pushing Amanda’s lips over the knot of cloth and then taping them closed. Amanda ummphhed through her nose, while the woman wound tape around her head to hold the first piece in place. She patted Amanda’s bulging cheeks and then took one of the ace bandages and wound it around the lower part of Amanda’s face so that it covered her from nose to chin.

‘Now for a blindfold,’ Alyssa continued. Amanda watched while she collected two clumps of cotton wool and the second ace bandage from the table. She taped the pads of cotton wool over Amanda’s eyes and then added the ace bandage over the whole lot. Then, she again grabbed a hank of Amanda’ hair and yanked her head backwards.

Amanda could sense the other woman’s presence inches from her sightless eyes. ‘Sleep well, Agent Thornton,’ she spat. ‘After all, tomorrow’s another day.’

She fiddled about for a second and Amanda felt several nasty tugs on her hair. When, at last Alyssa let go of her tresses, she discovered why. Alyssa had tied the cord from her big toes to the clump of hair. Now, she had to hold her head back painfully or suffer the consequences. And the consequences were a tearing feeling at her scalp and strain on her feet, which were pulled out so that they were pointed. The idea of staying like this till morning horrified her. Still, with any luck, Becky would be summoning help in very few minutes.

Seconds later, Amanda heard footsteps. ‘Ah, Joe, any news?’ Baxter asked.

‘Yes, Mr Baxter,’ Joe replied. ‘Morgan has telephoned. You were right. Dr. Lampton made for the Lesalle residence. Morgan says he can see her coming over the hill.’

‘Good,’ Alyssa Baxter laughed, no doubt aware of the sinking feeling in the pit of Amanda’s stomach. ‘Tell him to tie her up and gag her, but not to do anything else till I arrive. ... Well, Agent Thornton. Looks like you’ve got company for the night.’


Chapter fourteen

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