CHAPTER SIXTEEN - Gone Missing

The following day … Thursday 30th March …

8:00 am

At eight o'clock the following morning Gayle woke up, or was it come round? It was hard to tell. All she knew was that she had a throbbing headache and everywhere was in total darkness.
After a while a little more of Gayle's senses returned, enough to discover that apart from not being able to see anything, she was also very limited in her movements. However, from someone so well versed in the art of bondage, she was only too aware of her predicament. She had been blindfolded and hogtied. Her hands were tied behind her back and her feet had been drawn up to meet them. From the feel of it, she was lying face down on a bed, but tape had been run around her head, to cover her eyes and make seeing impossible. The tape also passed over her ears, muffling any sounds she might hear. She also realised something else; she had been stripped completely naked.
As more of her senses returned, and after the brain began to function a little bit better, Gayle began to wonder exactly who it was that had done this to her? Her immediate thoughts were to pin the blame on her boyfriend Tim. It was the sort of thing he would do, to tease and gain revenge for the humiliation she had caused him at the club, and after all, this did seem the most logical explanation.
On reflection Gayle was sorry for the way she had treated Tim. He was a lovely fellow really, but all the same, it was wrong what he did. She tried to see things from Tim's perspective. It might well have been wrong, but he was only doing it for her. He wanted her to win, and that is why he had put the holly on the track.
Convincing herself that it was Tim that had abducted her, Gayle tried to relax and wait for him to arrive. She would tell him that she was sorry, and try and make it up to him. She would however pay the club forfeit herself. It was only right and proper that she should spend the night in the pillory instead of Chloe at next Wednesday's meeting of the club.
Lying face down, with her head on what she assumed to be a pillow, Gayle became alerted to the sound of a door opening; a slow creaking sound. She tried to picture herself lying on Tim's bed. She had been in his bedroom on a couple of occasions before, and was well aware of the layout. If her head was at the top of his bed and resting the pillows, then the door would be to her left and the window to her right. But immediately on hearing the sound she realised that something was not quite right. The door to the room she was in, if anything, was at the foot of the bed. At least that was where the slow creaking noise was coming from. Suddenly doubts crossed her mind. What if it was someone else? And not Tim after all? She lay still and rigid, and waited with baited breath for someone to enter.
The door opened and then creaked shut, then footsteps padded into the room to come to rest alongside the bed. With tape wrapped about her ears, and with what sounded like thick carpet on the floor, it was difficult decide whether the visitor was Tim or not.
Gayle turned her head the best she could, in the direction of whoever it was standing by the bed.
"Tim, is that you?" she asked.
She was not certain, but she prayed that it was.
But there come no reply: Whoever was stood there was not attempting to answer her.
Despite the tape crossing her ears she could sense the breathing and the rustling of clothes very near to her. Whoever it was, he or she was bending over her now. Then a hand, warm but large, grabbed her firmly by the arm and turned her over onto her side. She was facing the person now. But who was it? The hand felt like that of a man's, it was too big and strong to be a woman's, but who's exactly was it? She hoped and prayed that it was Tim's hand that had grabbed her, and that he was just having a little bit of fun with her before letting her go.
"Tim, let me go, please," she begged. "I'm sorry for what I said… I want to make it up to you."
But once more there was silence. Whoever her abductor was, he was just standing there, hovering above her, looking down upon her naked body and saying nothing.
Suddenly Gayle felt scared; very scared. This was the last thing she wanted, or for that matter expected. If it was Tim hovering above her, then he was overdoing things far too much, and he was also being excessively cruel. To make matters worse, her head also throbbed with pain. The blow to the back of the head had struck with quite a force. She wanted to raise up her hands and feel the bump, but her tight bonds prevented it. She decided it was time to tell him just how bad she felt; and let him know just how much pain she suffering.
"At least get me some aspirins then," snarled Gayle. "My head's throbbing and I can't think straight."
Gayle, now lying on her side, cocked an ear. It appeared that whatever she had said, it was working. She listened intently. Whoever it was in the room, then he had moved away, across to the far side, and she could hear the clinking of glasses and the pouring of water. She began to relax again. Perhaps it was Tim after all, and he was being kind.
The mysterious abductor returned to stand by the bed. Despite the tape covering her ears, it was surprising how sharp the senses become when one was forced to listen. A hand turned Gayle over a little further, then moved round to the back of the neck. The hand then raised up her head and held it in that position. Then tips of fingers touched her mouth, and Gayle instinctively opened wide and stuck out a tongue. She felt a number of tablets, at least four drop on her tongue. She gathered them in and waited for the water. A rim of a glass touched her lips, and she gulped everything down. Even after the tablets had gone, she continued to drink until all the contents were drained. She had needed the drink desperately. Her mouth had been so dry.
The glass moved away and the hand beneath her neck laid her head back down on the pillow. Whoever he was, he was being gentle with her. There were no harsh movements. She found herself being turned over again onto her stomach, and she let it happen.
"Thank you," was all Gayle could say once he had finished positioning her face downwards on the bed.
Suddenly she was feeling very tired, and she yawned. She lay still and listened. Her abductor was leaving her now. She heard him cross the room to the bottom of the bed, the door creaked open, then closed behind him.
After a while, Gayle passed her tongue around the roof of her mouth. The tablets had left a strange, bitter taste behind. If she did not feel so tired, then possibly she would panic. She recalled now, that the tablets she had taken had been small. At least a lot smaller than aspirins, and she had been given four of them. Normally two, maybe three at the most would be the dosage for pain killers.
Gayle closed her eyes. She could feel herself drifting. She wondered if they might have been sleeping pills she had taken. But somehow she did not care. They had done the trick. The pain had gone away completely, and now only a light fluffy feeling to the brain remained. It was so pleasant, she just wanted to sleep.
She even wanted to thank the kind man for allowing her to sleep.
It was such a nice feeling.

12:30 pm

Chloe knocked on the door to Gayle's room at the university's hall of residence. She was feeling a little concerned. Her friend Gayle had not attended lectures that morning, and had not been seen all day. She wondered if she was ill. The last time she had seen her friend was at the club last night. Gayle had gone off in a huff after an argument with her boyfriend. In the end, Chloe had caught a taxi back to the university; not wanting to walk it back alone late at night.
After a while, Chloe knocked on the door once more, a little louder this time.
She also shouted: "Gayle?… are you in?" through the door.
In the end, after several tries without success, Chloe decided to take some action. It was most unlike Gayle to miss lectures, at least without sending an apology beforehand. She found the janitor, and after explaining everything to him, she got him to open the door to Gayle's room.
The janitor opened up the door with his master key and allowed Chloe to peer in through the doorway. That was as far as she was permitted. She could look into the room but not enter. There was however no one there, and the bed had not been slept in. Chloe recalled standing in the same doorway the previous evening, when they were both off to the club. As far as she could recall, the room looked exactly the same then. Gayle could not have returned last night.
Chloe thanked the janitor, and the door was once more locked.
"I guess she must have spent the night with her boyfriend," she explained, "I'm sorry if I troubled you."
"That's all right my dear," answered the ageing janitor, "At least she's not ill and collapsed on the bed… I've had one or two like that lately… drugs you know?… I don't know what this generation's coming to."
And with that the janitor pocketed his keys and set off down the corridor.
Chloe wondered what best to do. She had seen Tim go after Gayle just a couple of minutes after she had stormed out of the club. She assumed that he must have caught up with her in the street and tried to put things right. This seemed like the most obvious explanation. It would also explain her absence at the university today. Gayle would have most likely have gone back with Tim to his house, and spent the night with him.
Chloe nodded her head. Yes, that was the answer, it just had to be. Gayle had spent the night with Tim.
Chloe looked to her watch. She had another lecture to attend to after lunch. She made a decision. She would leave it until lectures where over for the day, then, if Gayle had still not returned, then she would telephone Tim and find out what was happening.

4:30 pm

Chloe remained concerned. No one at the university had seen Gayle all day. She had not turned up to her afternoon lecture. So immediately after her own lecture, Chloe made straight for Gayle's room in the hall of residence.
She knocked on the door and called: "Gayle, are you in there?… Are you back yet?"
She listened intently and waited. There came no reply.
She rapped on the door a lot louder, and called once more: "Gayle, are you in there?"
But once more there was silence.
She tried one final time. "Gayle, are you in there?" she shouted almost at the top of her voice.
Again silence prevailed.
On getting no response for the third time, Chloe moved quickly down the corridor, then on down the stairs to ground level. In the entrance foyer to the hall of residence there was a public telephone on the wall. She arrived a little out of breath. Luckily the phone was free. Normally there would be a queue of students waiting.
Chloe had visited Tim's house on a couple of occasions in the past. She had been with Gayle in Tim's car when, on both occasions, he had to go back and collect something he had forgotten. That was typical of Tim. He was always forgetting something. Anyway, it was on these two occasions when Chloe had had chance to meet Tim's parents. She was therefore no stranger to the Walker house, and she knew the telephone number from memory. Moving quickly to the phone on the wall before anyone else got to it, she dialled Tim's home number and waited.
Tim's mother answered. "Hello, Mary Walker speaking," she said.
"Ah, Mrs. Walker," answered Chloe, "This is Chloe here… I'm wanting to speak to Gayle,… is she there with Tim?"
"Oh, hello Chloe,… I'm sorry but Tim's at work… he went with his father this morning, and won't be back until after six o'clock this evening," explained Mrs. Walker, "but Gayle's not here anyway… she hasn't been here for a couple of weeks now… not since Tim pranged his car anyway."
"She didn't come home with Tim last night then?" asked Chloe. "Or she didn't arrive and then leave later did she Mrs. Walker?"
"I'm afraid not Chloe… Tim came home on his own,… and there was no Gayle with him I'm afraid," explained Mrs. Walker, then sounding concerned she added: "Why?.. has anything happened?"
"Gayle's not attended any lectures today, that's all," explained Chloe, "I assumed she was with Tim, but if not, don't worry, I guess there's some good explanation for it all."
"Oh!" said Mrs. Walker sounding more concerned than ever, "Well you'll please let me know when you find her, won't you Chloe?… And I'll tell Tim as soon as he gets home."
"You'll be the first to know what's happened Mrs. Walker, as soon as I find something out," answered Chloe.
"Thanks, I would be very grateful if you did Chloe," replied Mrs. Walker.
"Okay Mrs. Walker,.. bye!" said Chloe, and she put the phone back on the hook.
Chloe stood pensively by the phone for a moment or two whilst she contemplated the situation. Where could Gayle have got to? She could think of nowhere else other than Tim's house. His place was the only realistic possibility. She decided it was time to inform someone in authority. She would go right to the top. She would see the Dean, the Head of the Faculty.
Chloe departed the hall of residence by the main doors and sped quickly across the quadrangle. It was time to inform the Dean. She entered another building and climbed several flights of stairs to the top. She knocked on a door and waited.
"Come in," came the reply.
Chloe breathed a sigh of relief. The Dean was in his room. She did not know what to do if he was not there.
Chloe entered the room to find a middle-aged man seated at a desk. He was marking papers and smoking a pipe. He looked up and smiled.
"Yes!… and what can I do for you Miss?" he asked.
Chloe was not immediately recognised. She could be any one of a thousand students, and even though the Dean tried very hard to meet all of them at sometime during their stay, knowing everyone by face and name was quite naturally an almost impossible task. The man frowned as if reflecting that fact.
Chloe walked up the desk and began to explain. "My names Chloe Chambers, and I'm reading Sociology here… I've come about my friend Gayle Jackson… she's a student here too, and I think she's gone missing,.. she's not been seen at all today,… and I'm getting very worried about her," she explained the best way she could.
The Dean did not seem to panic. The bowl of his pipe did glow bright red as he heard the news, but that was the only outward sign.
"Gayle Jackson… gone missing you say?… Can you explain a little bit more?.. what are your fears?… students are known to have days off now and again,.. are you sure she's not sick or something?" he asked her.
Chloe collected her thoughts  before speaking.
"No, she's definitely not ill… she was with me last night… we went out together… but she came back on her own… and that was the last time I saw her… or anybody saw her for that matter,… she's not attended any lectures today… and no one has seen her all day," explained Chloe further.
"I see?" said the Dean drawing on his pipe, "has anybody checked on her room?"
Chloe nodded her head.
"I got the janitor to open up her room… she was not there… and the bed had not been slept in… I don't think she came back last night at all," she told the Dean.
"Could she have gone somewhere else?… stayed someplace overnight… and not come back yet?" asked the Dean.
Chloe shook her head.
"She's got a boyfriend… but I've already tried there… she did not go to his house last night… and as far as I know, there's nowhere else she could have gone," said Chloe.
The Dean stood up from behind his desk and tapped his pipe out in an ashtray. He was a tall, stocky man in his mid-forties.
"Let's go and find the janitor once more shall we then Chloe?… I think another look in Gayle Jackson's room is in order before we do anything drastic, like call the police," he said.
Chloe nodded her head. At least things were moving now. If there were still no signs of Gayle as the evening drew on, then at least those in authority were aware of the fact, and if all attempts to find her failed, then the police would have to be informed.

7:00 pm

After checking out Gayle's room for a second time that day, the police were informed, and an investigation started almost straightaway.
A police car with a detective and constable inside, had arrived soon afterwards, and Chloe, now back in the Dean's office, told them her tale. She explained her worst fears, and described her last sightings of Gayle. She then went on to explain her friend's most likely route back to the university, and it must be said, eyebrows were raised as soon as the park was mentioned.
A call to the local station gave instructions for someone to check out the route and take particular care through the park. It was not long afterwards that a call came back and they were all asked to visit the park. It was thought that something may have been found.
So, at sometime around seven o'clock that evening, Chloe found herself stepping out of the police car along with the detective. As she was led through the gates, she could see a police officer stood on the path a little way into the park. The police officer stood alone, but it looked like he was protecting something.
Chloe and the detective walked up to meet the policeman. On arrival the officer pointed to the ground close to his feet. A pair of broken sunglasses rested on the edge of the path. A circle in white, possibly made from a spray can, had been traced all around the broken pieces. Chloe thought that she recognised them, but bent down to take a closer look just to make sure.
"Please don't touch anything Miss," warned the guarding police officer. "We don't want anything to be disturbed until the forensic team get here."
But Chloe had seen enough. "They're definitely mine… they're my sunglasses… I lent them to Gayle about a week ago when she received a black eye."
"Are you certain about that Miss?.. Are you sure that they are yours?" asked the detective.
"I'm certain they're mine," confirmed Chloe. "I purchased them whilst on holiday in Italy last summer. You can't buy anything like them around here, and besides, I would know them anywhere."
The detective looked thoughtful before speaking once more. "And can you confirm that your friend was wearing them last night," he asked. "I want you to be positive about that."
Chloe nodded her head.
"I'm positive… The last time I saw Gayle, which was last night, she was definitely wearing them," she answered.
The detective rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"And when would that be exactly?" he asked. "Could you put an exact time on it?"
Chloe thought for a moment. There were implications. This meant involving everyone at the club, as well as mentioning everything about Tim. But she considered that she had no alternative but to reveal all. Everything would come out in the end anyway. And what really mattered was Gayle's welfare. She had to be found, and now that they had discovered the sunglasses, things were not looking too good for her best friend.
"I guess it would be sometime around ten-thirty last night. We were at a club together, but she left before me," explained Chloe.
"Did she leave alone?" questioned the detective.
Chloe nodded her head.
"Yes, she left alone," she confirmed.
This time it was the detective's turn to consider all the implications.
"I think it's best that you come with me to the station… I think Miss, you'd better make a statement," he said.
Chloe nodded her head slowly. She would co-operate fully and tell them everything she knew.
Deep down, she would do anything to get her best friend back.

8:00 pm

Gayle came round some twelve hours later. Quite naturally she was not aware of this. In fact she was not aware of the time, or even what day it was. For all she knew, she could have been out for days, weeks, or even months. It was even difficult at first to even recall that she had been abducted.
It was a very strange feeling. It was like waking up at a friend's house after a party, and wondering where exactly you were. To make matters worse, her head was spinning round at one hundred miles an hour, and she felt decidedly sick. Slowly she became orientated enough to begin piecing things together. She recalled walking through the park; being struck on the back of the head, then waking to find herself blindfolded, hogtied, and lying face down on a bed. But that seemed such a long time ago, and so peaceful and comfortable compared with what she was suffering now.
So what had changed in the meantime? Why was everything so different, and so uncomfortable now?
The tape remained about her eyes, blacking out everything. This fact she was aware of right from the beginning, but this was not what concerned her as her senses slowly began to return. She was no longer hogtied, that was obvious, and she was no longer lying face down on a comfortable bed. Furthermore her arms where no longer held behind her back, instead they where spread high and wide. Her feet too were no longer tied together and draw up behind her back. Her legs were now stretched apart and her ankles tethered to something further out on each side.
And there was something else. She was no loner lying down on her stomach. She was standing now, at least her feet were on the ground, and her wrists were supporting her weight. She shuffled herself upright to stand on her feet, and to relieve the pressure on her wrists.
She tried to figure out what had been done to her whilst asleep. A slight movement of the arms, and a little shuffle of the feet quickly answered most of her questions. The unmistakable rattle of chains, the presence of heavy bands of steel about her wrists and ankles, and the cold sensation of damp brickwork rubbing against her backside, told her that she was chained spreadeagled to a wall.
There was also a hushed silence everywhere. Nothing stirred, and one could hear a pin drop.
She called out: "Tim!… are you there?" and was suddenly shocked to hear the echo.
Wherever she had been moved to, it felt strange and eerie. She was in a chamber of sorts, at least someplace big and airy, with plenty of space, a high roof and echoing walls.
Suddenly Gayle began to feel very vulnerable, and very, very scared.
For what seemed like hours, Gayle stood there waiting. She kept telling herself that Tim would come and release her soon. His little joke could not possibly go on much longer. And besides she was feeling cold and hungry now. She did not know what time it was, but she guessed that many hours must have passed since she was captured and taken prisoner.
Then all of a sudden she heard someone coming and she cocked an ear. She could hear the distant plod of footsteps getting ever nearer. She did not know whether to feel grateful or afraid.
She waited until she heard the footsteps come to a halt in front of her before speaking.
"Please Tim, let me go now…" she said, "I'm sorry… I did not mean to be so angry with you… I love you Tim… honestly I do!"
She waited, listening for an answer, but no response came. She decided a change of tack was necessary. It was time to be much more forceful. To tell him that she had had enough, and that the fun was over.
"Tim, I don't like what you're doing," she said forcefully. "Let me go now... You've had your fun."
But once more nothing but silence ensued.
Gayle went to speak again, to get her point across even more forcefully, but a heavy hand grabbed her about the face, to squeeze hard against her cheeks and force her mouth open wide. She protested and made what sounds she could, but even that was soon arrested as she felt a rolled up rag being forced inside her open mouth. Immediately the rag was in place, the hand changed position, to force her jaw upwards and close around the rag. She wanted to spit it out, but she was prevented from doing so. Then no sooner had her jaw been pushed shut, when a wide strip of surgical tape passed across her mouth, to stick firmly to her lips and cheeks, and prevent the rag from escaping.
Gayle mumbled and protested the best she could. But she had been effectively silenced. The tape and gag now prevented her from speaking. She felt helpless and wanted to scream.
Standing naked and helpless, with her arms and legs outstretched, Gayle waited for the inevitable. She knew what was going to happen, and it did. Two masculine hands fell upon her breasts, and they began to squeeze and distort the flesh. The grip at times was quite painful. After a while they moved to the tips, to grab her nipples between thumbs and forefingers, and she felt them squeeze her tightly.
Whoever it was, he was hurting her now, and she tried to protest the best she could through the confines of the gag. But deep down she knew that any resistance was useless. She was this man's prisoner, whoever he might be, and there was no way of stopping him doing whatever he liked with her. She prayed that he would just go away and leave her alone.
But of course, he did no such thing. A hand strayed from her breasts and moved on down her body. She felt a finger ruffle her pubic hairs and give a little tug, then move on down a little further to touch and fondle her between her legs.
For a while the finger just moved backwards and forwards, parting her labia lips and alternating between her virginal opening and her clitoris. Eventually the probing finger did enter her, and began to move around inside. At the same time one hand remained toying with her breasts, first teasing one nipple, and then the other, then returning to squeeze and manipulate the whole of the breast, as if kneading a pile of dough.
Gayle could hear the man's breathing now. It was getting heavier, much heavier, and she could tell that he was nearing a climax. The hand that played with her breasts moved away, and although one hand remained twitching and frigging harshly between her legs, she knew what he was doing with the other. She had heard his zip being pulled down, and he was now jerking himself off.
She listened to the ever increasing rate of the breathing, and waited. She was getting no pleasure from this, and she just wanted it done and over with as quickly as possible. And she guessed that it would not be long. From the sound of it, her abductor was getting very close to climax.
When he did come, she felt his semen splatter against her stomach. If anything it was slightly warmer than her own skin, and she felt the rivulets of sperm begin to run down her body, some of it to pass down her legs, some of it to end up mingled amidst her mass of curly pubic hairs.
Gayle felt sick and wanted to throw up, but fought hard against the nausea, knowing that to do so whilst gagged would be an extremely foolish thing to do.
As the climax passed, the man's remaining hand disappeared from Gayle's body. She felt a sense of relief that it was all over. She heard the sound of the man's zip being pulled upwards. This came as a welcome relief. At least he was not going to do it again. Not this time anyway.
Then she heard footsteps, this time moving away from her, and she knew that the man was leaving her.
She did not know what to think. On the one hand she was relieved that he was going, but on the other she felt more frightened than ever. What was going to happen to her? She could not see; she could not speak; and she was all alone, chained spreadeagled to a wall, and with a most uncertain future to look forward to.
She let her body slump, to take her weight upon her wrists. As her chains rattled and shook, she began to pray that someone would come along and release her soon.

End of Chapter Sixteen