The following day … Thursday 13th April

9:00 am

Sister McNally entered the side ward. It was time for the duty nurse to change the patient’s drip-feeds and she had fresh bags in her hands. This mundane task she had been doing every morning since the patient was admitted to the hospital on Saturday 4th March, that was forty days ago, and today, as she stepped through the door, she considered her routine to be no different.
However, after taking just one step into the room, that routine was to change dramatically. The nurse froze in her tracks and her mouth fell open. The patient, officially recorded as Michelle Whitely, but affectionately known as Mimi to all the nursing staff, had her eyes wide open and was staring blankly at the ceiling.
The nurse recovered quickly from the shock and hurried to the patient’s side. She placed the drip-feed bags on the cabinet by the side of the bed and moved to feel the pulse. Immediately she breathed a sigh of relief. The skin was warm and the pulse was beating strongly. Mimi was alive!
She then looked to the patients eyes and received another shock. Mimi’s eyelashes were flickering. This was the patient’s first detectable movement in forty days.
“Mimi, can you hear me?” asked the nurse.
Mimi’s eyelashes flickered faster and her head turned slowly in the direction of the nurse. For a few seconds the mouth motioned to speak and the bottom lip quivered before anything audible came out.
“Where am I?” a faint voice croaked.
The nurse gripped Mimi’s hand for comfort.
“You’re safe Mimi…. you’re in hospital,” she informed her.
Mimi’s eyes struggled to find focus on the nurse’s face.
“Where’s Roger?… He’s in trouble,… he needs me,” she stated.
The nurse had no idea where her boyfriend Roger Downton might be and knew nothing of the trouble he was in. Normally, by this time, Mimi’s fiancé would already have paid his regular early morning visit and set off for work. But this particular morning he had not arrived. However, she was aware that he had to go to London for a few days. She was thinking that perhaps he was still working there.
The nurse squeezed Mimi’s hand tightly.
“We’ll find him for you Mimi, and bring him here,” she told her.
Sister McNally pressed a button on the intercom on the wall above the patient’s bed. The link connected with the reception desk.
“Reception,” crackled a tinny voice from the box on the wall.
“Can you get a doctor to see Mimi immediately,” said the nurse.
“Why?… What’s happened?” queried the receptionist and sounding most anxious.
“Mimi’s come round and asking to see Roger,” she answered.

10:00 am

On a bench overlooking the cliffs and adjacent to the old castle, sat three young women. They were all feeling pretty pleased with themselves.
“Well that’s it girls,” stated Davina Townsend matter-of-factly, “Roger Downton’s under arrest, and apart from giving statements we can do very little else to assist in the case…. our job is done… and well done everyone.”
Davina was seated in the middle of the bench. Tracy Goodyear was to her left, and Georgina Watkinson to her right. All three girls were relaxed and looking out to sea. It was a bright Spring morning, the weather remained dry, the wind calm, though April showers were forecast for later that day.
Georgina agreed with Davina and nodded her head. However there was still one sad note that surrounded the case.
“The police have not as yet traced the two missing girls, but given time I think they will,… I think they’ll get Roger Downton to confess,” reasoned Georgina.
The other two girls, whilst looking out to sea, agreed and nodded their heads in unison. All were convinced that they had caught the right man. Roger Downton just had to be the culprit, of that they had no doubts. They were also convinced that, after questioning, the police would discover the whereabouts of the two missing girls.
After a pall in the conversation, the girls’ minds turned to other things. Wendy Bartlett, the fourth member of the Pact, remained in London and not aware of all the goings on. She had to be informed that the operation was over, and needed to be collected and brought back to Littlesea. There was also the matter of terminating the six month contract they had taken out on their London flat.
Davina broke the silence. “What about getting Wendy back?” she asked.
The three girls looked to one another. A trip to London was probably the last thing any one of them wanted right that minute.
Georgina shook her head and spoke first.
“Sorry girls, I’m on duty today… I’m on the ‘two-till-ten’ shift all this week, so count me out,” she explained.
Davina also shook her head.
“I’ve got to make a statement to the police this afternoon, so I can’t make it today,” she explained.
All eyes turned to Tracy. She looked back across the bench at the other two girls and gave a little shrug of inevitability to her shoulders.
“I guess it’s got to be me then,” she told them. “I’ll go to London... I’ll sort everything out with the landlady and bring Wendy back here.”
Georgina and Davina nodded their heads. In reality it was the only choice available. Tracy had use of a car they had purchased when the investigation began, and she knew exactly where to go and what routes to take to avoid all the London traffic and congestion. Georgina and Davina were also both very well aware of the lesbian relationship that existed between Wendy and Tracy, even though nothing had ever been spoken on the subject. It was something private between the two girls and best kept that way.
“Thanks Tracy,” said Davina.
Georgina asked: “When are you thinking of going Tracy?”
Tracy looked to her watch. The time was just after ten o’clock. The morning rush hour had passed. The journey to London would take three to four hours depending on traffic. If all went well she would be there just after lunch.
“I may as well set off straightaway,” she told the other two girls. “I’ll pop home first, sort a few things out, then be on my way. I’ll see how Wendy feels when I get there. We could come back tonight, or wait until tomorrow,.. we’ll see how we feel.”
“Well that’s it then… everything’s agreed… I guess the meeting’s closed,” stated Davina, and at the same time rising from the bench.
The other two girls stood up and all three joined hands.
“To the Pact,” they all said in unison.
Afterwards the girls went their separate ways. Georgina and Davina leaving in their own cars and Tracy walking the cliff path to her home a little way down the slope.
Before entering the gate to her premises Tracy took one final glance up the hill to an old cottage stood adjacent to the old castle ruins. She was looking at Wendy’s home. She sighed, then turned and entered the rear gate to her property. She was thinking how nice it would be to have Wendy back at Castle Point. She was missing the warmth of her naked body cuddled close to her own. She smiled, and with these loving thoughts deep in her mind she walked the garden path to the back door of the house.
With a fresh spring to her step she entered the bungalow that was her parent’s home and made straight for her bedroom. She packed a few overnight things in a small travel bag, grabbed her car keys, then headed for the front door.
In the hallway she called to her mother who was in the kitchen.
“Mum, I’m off… I’m going back to the flat in London,… I don’t know  when I’ll be back,” she shouted.
This was all the information she was going to relate. Tracy liked her little bit of independence and her mother had long since accepted that her daughter had a life of her own to lead. Tracy would return when she wanted to and not when her parents said.
Wendy’s parents too were very much conditioned in the same manner. On reaching eighteen she too was considered an adult and leading a life of her own. Since moving into the London flat she had only made contact once, and that was to discuss some trivial matter.
Tracy’s mother was peeling potatoes at the time.
“All right Tracy… have a nice time,… drive carefully,” she called back.
She knew that saying ‘keep in touch’ or ‘phone me occasionally’ was a waste of time, so kept her reply nice and simple.
Tracy grabbed a coat from a stand in the hall.
“Bye mum,” she called then pulled the front door shut and made her way to the car.
Tracy was in a happy frame of mind. Everything was going right for once. The case was solved, Roger Downton was under arrest, and she was on her way to bring Wendy back to Castle Point. This was their home and the place where they both belonged.
 
1:00 pm

Dr. Gabriel Lang heard the news of Mimi’s recovery whilst conducting his morning surgery. As soon as that surgery was over he set off for the ‘Intensive Care Unit’ over on the other side of the sprawling hospital complex. A nurse was with Mimi as the doctor entered the side ward. He remained standing in the open doorway and waited for the nurse to finish.
Mimi was sitting up in bed and being made comfortable by the nurse. The feeding pipes that once entered her nostrils were gone, but one single drip-feed still entered a vein in an arm.
The nurse adjusted the tap on the bag a fraction, moved the stand away slightly, then turned to the doctor and smiled.
“She’s all yours now Dr. Lang,” said the nurse.
She then collected up a few items, including a bed-pan and made her way out of the small side ward.
The doctor took a step forward and let the nurse pass. He thanked her and closed the door. He then turned to Mimi. She was looking in his direction and gave a little smile of recognition.
“Come on in and take a seat Dr. Lang,” Mimi told him.
The doctor was impressed by the lucidity of the patient. She looked bright and alert. He was also curious to learn as to how she knew his name? He had met her fiancé Roger whilst treating Godfrey Brookes, but had no recollection of ever meeting Mimi.
“You know my name then?” asked the doctor as he drew up a chair alongside the bed, though for the time being he remained standing.
Mimi nodded her head.
“Roger pointed you out to me once… we followed you up to Castle Point in Roger’s Mercedes... you were driving a Land Rover at the time… Roger told me you were the doctor treating Godfrey,” she explained.
The doctor thought back and recalled the incident. He was on his way to Wendy Bartlett’s eighteenth birthday party at the time. Roger’s Mercedes had been behind his slow moving vehicle as it climbed the hill to Castle Point. He recalled a little wave from inside the car as he pulled up outside Wendy’s cottage. He recalled waving back as the Mercedes went by and continued on to the castle car park. After further deliberation he vaguely recollected seeing a female sat next to Roger in the car and assumed therefore that this must have been Mimi. He tried to recall the date when the incident took place. Wendy’s birthday party must have been sometime in January. That was three months ago. Already he was impressed. These were good signs and indicated that Mimi had suffered little or no memory loss.
Dr. Lang nodded his head.
“You do well to recall that incident after all you’ve been through,” he commented as he sat down at Mimi’s bedside.
Mimi’s face turned serious.
“Where’s Roger?… What’s happened to him doctor?” she asked. “No one here will tell me.”
Dr. Lang turned thoughtful. He was not expecting such a direct question. He decided to remain cagey and not give an immediate answer.
“What makes you think I know anything about Roger?” he asked.
Mimi made eye contact and stared deep into the doctor’s eyes. She looked menacing.
“Because you told me Roger was in trouble when I was sleeping,” she informed him.
Dr. Lang raised an eyebrow. This was very revealing. Mimi must have been conscious all the time, but living in a shell.
“You’ve been listening then?” queried the doctor, “you’ve been hearing everything that’s been going on around you?”
Mimi nodded her head.
“Yes doctor, I’ve been living in a strange world... I could hear voices,… but it was like a bad dream… I tried hard to answer back but no one was listening… It was horrible,” she explained.
The doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“But as soon as you got my message you just had to find another outlet… you just had to make yourself heard this time?” suggested Dr. Lang.
Mimi nodded her head in agreement.
“Something like that doctor… I just had to find a way to communicate… then suddenly I found myself looking up at the ceiling and I realised that I was in a room… then a nurse came and spoke to me… and it was only then that I realised that I’d returned to the real world… it was all very weird doctor… all very strange,” she explained.
The doctor held Mimi’s hand and gave it a little squeeze.
“And the mind Mimi?… Tell me, what were the last things you remember before you entered this strange world?” he asked.
Mimi turned pensive. It looked like it was hurting.
“Doctor… I… I… I was up on a barn roof with Godfrey,” she answered eventually.
She then put her hands to her mouth.
“Oh my god!” she exclaimed. “We both fell… Godfrey!… he got killed didn’t he?”
The doctor squeezed Mimi’s hand even harder for comfort.
“How do you know Godfrey got killed?” he asked.
A tear formed in the corner of Mimi’s eye. She looked to the doctor once more.
“Because Roger told me,” she answered.
The doctor relaxed his grip slightly and patted the back of the hand. It seemed that Mimi had been listening for most of her forty days in a coma. This was a revelation in itself.
“What else did Roger tell you?” asked the doctor.
That single tear turned to more tears and the eyes welled up.
“He told me we’d lost our baby,” she sobbed.
The doctor realised that he was going beyond his brief. It was not wise to upset the patient so soon after recovering from her coma.
“Just relax Mimi… I will not ask anymore awkward questions,” he told her.
The doctor offered Mimi a tissue and she wiped away the tears.
“Doctor… what’s happened to Roger?… I must know,… you must tell me,” she begged.
Dr. Lang stroked a hand for comfort.
“Roger’s under arrest… the police have taken him in for questioning in connection with the disappearance of two young women,” he told her.
Mimi squeezed her eyes tightly and let the tears roll down her cheeks.
“Two?” she queried simply and sounding a little confused.
“Yes two,” replied the doctor and thinking Mimi’s answer to be a little unusual.
However Dr. Lang realised the problem. At least he thought he did. Roger had not spoken to Mimi since the beginning of the week when he set off for London. The second girl had disappeared whilst he was away. Therefore it was logical to assume that Roger must have only spoken about the disappearance of the first girl.
“Mimi, just tell me about the one you know,” he put to her. “Tell me what Roger said to you about the missing girl.”
Mimi collected her thoughts.
“Roger said he didn’t do it doctor…. he said that he wanted to… he was in a position to… but he said that he just couldn’t go through with it… that’s the honest truth doctor… Roger just didn’t do it,… he doesn’t tell me lies,” she explained.
The doctor became very thoughtful and rubbed his chin with his free hand. This truly was an extraordinary revelation and something quite unexpected. He began to ponder on the subject. Mimi, although in a coma, had been fully aware of everything going on around her. Her mind had been like a recorder and lapping up everything Roger had been saying to her over the last four to five weeks. Furthermore, all this was related in private, and Roger had no reason to tell lies. The bond between Roger and Mimi was too strong to hold back any secrets and untruths. Therefore, if what Mimi was saying was true, and Roger did say these things to her, then logically someone else was responsible for those atrocities. The police had got the wrong man. He asked himself the question; then who else could it possibly be?
He put the question to Mimi.
“Well, if Roger didn’t do it, then who did Mimi?… Did Roger have any ideas?… did he say anything to you?” he asked.
Mimi shook her head.
“Roger had no idea at all,… that was the one thing that what was puzzling him,” she told him. Then, sounding a little desperate, she added: “Oh doctor, I must get well… I must be able to walk again… I must find out… I must help Roger.”
The doctor patted Mimi’s hand tenderly.
“Mimi, I’m going to see what I can do to help… you’re not well enough to move yet… you must eat and get strong… and exercise those legs… but in the meantime maybe I can find out who did it for you,… I’ll see what I can do,” he promised her.
It was at this point the doctor decided that a visit to see Chief Inspector Hawkins was very much on the cards. He would tell him what he had just learned, and perhaps together they could get to the bottom of all this.

1:30 pm

Outside No. 14, North Park Avenue, London, the first signs of rain began to fall on the dry paving slabs that edged the cast iron railings of the north London park. April showers had been forecast, and April showers they were going to get.
Wendy Bartlett was waiting impatiently, looking out of the first floor window of the small flat that overlooked the park. She smiled and gave a wave as a bright red sports car pulled up in the road opposite. Her boyfriend Tim Walker had arrived. Quickly she descended the stairs to greet him. They met on the doorstep and kissed hard and long.
“Come on up,” said Wendy standing with her arms wrapped about Tim’s neck.
They kissed again before ascending the stairs hand in hand.
“Is Tracy still in Littlesea?” asked Tim guardedly as they reached the top of the stairs.
Wendy nodded her head.
“Yes she’s still back at home... everything’s fine,… someone will phone and tell me when I’m to be collected… and no one has called yet… so we’re all on our own Tim,… and we won’t be disturbed at all today,” she assured him.
On hearing the news Tim relaxed. He had taken the rest of the day off from work, and together they planned to have an afternoon session of bondage play and sex. But that was all dependant on someone from Littlesea not turning up to take Wendy back to the south coast. Now it seemed that this was not going to happen.
Wendy kept herself informed of all the goings on by telephone. Every night, without fail, she would contact both Davina and Tracy, and they would keep her up to date with all the latest news. Wendy was well aware of Roger Downton’s arrest and transfer to London. But more relevant to the present situation, there was no mention of when she would be collected and taken back to Littlesea.
Quite naturally, Wendy was thrilled by the news of Roger Downton’s arrest. At one time her boyfriend Tim had been the chief suspect, and for a while, at least at the beginning of the relationship, she had been forced to tread most carefully. But now that Tim was no longer a suspect she could relax and enjoy his company, and that is exactly what she intended to do whilst she waited for someone from Littlesea to come and collect her.
Wendy held Tim’s hand and led him along the corridor to her bedroom.
She was horny and wanted sex badly. She had been thinking of Tim all morning.
They entered the bedroom. The bed was made and the room looked neat and tidy. There was a model of Tim’s red sports car on the windowsill. The bedroom was small with a single bed and not very much room to move. On a dressing table alongside the bed rested several coils of rope and a vibrator. Wendy had prepared everything in advance for Tim’s visit.
“Let’s get started then Tim,… I want you badly,” she said as she pulled her sweater up and over her head.
Tim was wearing a jacket. He removed it and stepped across the room to a hook behind the door.
Wendy tossed her sweater into a corner and set about pulling the zip down at the side of her skirt.
“You’re rushing it a bit aren’t you Wendy?” queried Tim as he placed his coat on the hook.
Wendy looked up an smiled. It had been two days since they last met and she was missing Tim badly.
“I want you Tim,” she said. “I want you badly.”
Tim laughed and removed his tie from about his neck.
“Then I’d better do something about it,” he chuckled.
Wendy had dressed scantily in deliberate anticipation of Tim’s visit. She tossed away her skirt to join the sweater in the corner, then kicked off her shoes under the bed. She stood erect and opened out her arms to reveal her body to Tim. She was just wearing bra and panties.
“I’m ready then Tim,” she announced, her voice bubbling with excitement; “my body is yours to do with whatever you wish.”
Tim looked to Wendy and smiled.
“Best take off the rest of your things then,” he told her.
Wendy did not need telling twice. She unhooked her bra from behind her back, slipped it off her shoulders and tossed it away to join the discarded skirt and sweater. When that was done, she wriggled her panties down her legs, removed them completely, then rolled them into a ball and hurled them away to land on top of the pile.
Whilst Wendy concentrated on removing the last of her clothing, Tim moved to the dressing table to collect a couple of lengths of soft white rope. They were both about three feet in length. He turned to Wendy. She had returned to her previously held submissive pose. Standing alongside the bed, and with arms outstretched, she offered her naked and wanton body to Tim.
Wendy repeated her previous message.
“My body is yours to do with whatever you wish,” she told Tim.
Tim moved forward and kissed her on the lips. Wendy locked her arms behind Tim’s head and held him there. Tongues darted between mouths, and what started out as a loving peck of affection turned into a prolonged and passionate embrace.
Eventually the lingering kiss came to an end and Tim took a step back. It was time for a little action. He ran the two lengths of rope through his hands.
“Sit down on the bed Wendy, and hold out your hands,” he told her.
Wendy licked her lips, then squatted down on the side of the bed. From this lower position her eyes focused on the ever growing bulge in Tim’s trousers. She smiled. Tim was so much fun to be with, and so gentle and kind. In fact, it was inconceivable even to think that Tim had been a suspect in the case of the kidnapped girls.
Without saying another word, Tim tied the two ropes separately about Wendy’s wrists, and leaving about two feet of rope dangling from each arm. Placing his hands on her shoulders he manoeuvred her backwards to lie on the bed. He then positioned her lengthways so that her head rested upon the pillow. Next, he raised up an arm to a corner post and lashed the loose end of the rope firmly about it. Finally, leaning across Wendy’s naked body, and with a quick kiss of the lips on passing, he secured the other wrist to the far corner of the bed.
“Comfortable Wendy?” he asked when he was done.
Wendy looked first to one wrist, and then the other, before finally nodding her head with approval.
“Very comfortable Tim,” she purred in response.
Tim moved to sit on the edge of the bed and placed the palms of his hands gently against Wendy’s thrusting breasts.
“Perhaps you won’t be when I’ve finished with you,” he suggested with a glint to his eye and a little squeeze to the flesh.
Wendy writhed with pleasure and licked her lips as Tim’s hands set about massaging her breasts. She rolled her head to one side and closed her eyes.
“Promises… promises,” she breathed.
Tim continued to fondle Wendy’s breasts, gently caressing her soft pink flesh and toying with her erect and protruding cherry-red nipples. After a while he rose from the bed and collected two more lengths of rope. He held them up for her to see.
Wendy’s face beamed with delight. She enjoyed the way Tim went about teasing her. And anyway, what did she care? She trusted him. She was his to do with whatever he pleased.
“You’d better get on with it then Tim… I’m just dying to find out,” she told him in her most deep and sensual voice.
Tim took hold of Wendy’s ankles, pulled her bodily down the bed a little, then spread her legs so that they pointed to the two bottom corners. He then set about securing each ankle to the corner posts.
When he was done he turned to confront Wendy once more.
“Well, I’ve got you now,” he told her.
Wendy raised up her head and viewed the bottom two anchorage points with passive interest.
“I guess you have got me now Tim,” she agreed. “Now what are you proposing to do next?”
Tim’s eyes returned to the dressing table. A vibrator lay amidst the remaining coils of rope. He moved across the floor and picked it up. He then returned to Wendy, held it to her face and flicked a switch. Immediately the vibrator burst into life. He then moved down the bed and placed the buzzing tip lightly against her clitoris.
“Perhaps, to begin with, we should test this thing out,” suggested Tim.
Wendy writhed against her bonds the moment contact was made. Even the gentlest of touches threw her whole body into uncontrollable spasms of ecstasy, and she tried to shuffle herself further down the bed in the hope of making firmer contact with the pulsating sex toy. But Tim teased, and the more she squirmed and wriggled her way down the bed, the lighter the contact became. It was most frustrating. She wanted the vibrator inside of her, and she told Tim so.
“Put it in me… please Tim… I want it in me,” she begged in earnest.
Tim teased a little while longer then eased the tip of the vibrator slowly down her wanton and dripping wet crack. Still maintaining that same initial light and gentle contact, he traced a circle around the entrance to her vagina.
Wendy groaned and writhed her hips in response to Tim’s delicate touch. Her frustration had heightened and desperation was setting in.
“Please Tim,… put it inside me,” she called. “I must have it now… I must!”
Tim teased for a few seconds more, then obliged.
“Is this what you want?” he suggested as the tip of the vibrator slipped inside of her.
He then set to work.
Slowly, under Wendy’s own muscular control, he let the full length of the vibrator glide smoothly inside. Then, with just the end protruding, he held it there with just one finger and let Wendy do the rest. Almost immediately she began to writhe on the bed, and it did not take long for a climax to be within reach.
Tim now helped, thrusting the vibrator deep inside of her in a succession of pulsating stabs.
As the tempo increased, the pleasure heightened, and her body shuddered uncontrollably.
Between deep pants for breath she let her pleasures be known to Tim.
“Oh!… that’s it Tim!… keep going!… don’t stop now!…Oh Tim!… Oh Tim!… you’re wonderful,” she moaned as her tethered naked body shook and convulsed upon the surface of the bed.
As the convulsions faded, Tim withdrew the vibrator. He then began to remove his own clothing. Wendy raised up her head and looked on in delight as Tim’s wanton erection sprang from the confines of his underpants.
She was still very much out of breath. “Is that for me big boy?” she panted.
Tim nodded his head.
“I was thinking you’d be wanting the real thing sometime,” he told her.

2:00 pm

Tracy parked her car outside a terraced house that overlooked the north London park. She looked across the road at the big bright red sports car parked opposite. She knew it to be Tim Walker’s. She wondered what he was doing at the flat at this time of day? Why was he not at work? Musing over what she might find upstairs, she unlocked the front door with her own key to the premises and entered the hallway.
On entering Tracy looked about her. On a stand next to the door she spotted an unopened envelope that had come through the post. On closer inspection she discovered that the letter was addressed to her. She picked it up and opened the envelope.
The letter was from FotoPix Studios. It was asking if she was interested in doing anymore modelling work. Apparently her earlier photographic work had gone down well with the magazine publishers and a new lesbian bondage contract was in the offing. There was also good money to be made.
For a while Tracy reflected on the contents of the letter and on how she first became involved with FotoPix Studios. She had reason to visit the studios in the course of her investigation into the disappearance of the Gayle Jackson. On that occasion she had been wrapped in clingfilm and had a multitude of clothes pegs attached to her breasts and nipples. She shuddered as she recollected the ordeal. It was a painful experience, but Lenny and Judi Blackmore, the married couple who ran the agency, had been kind and helped her through the session. She put the letter in a pocket and mused over the contents. She was in two minds whether to take up the offer. But first she had to find out what was going on upstairs. She could hear grunts and groans coming from Wendy’s bedroom.
Tracy set off up the stairs. She trod quietly. On nearing the top, she heard Wendy’s grunting once more. She sounded excited and fragmented with short sharp gasps for air issuing between hastily spoken words. She was curious and decided to investigate.
From the top of the stairs Tracy crept silently along the corridor towards Wendy’s bedroom. The door was closed and all she could do was peek in through the keyhole.
On seeing into the room she immediately put her hands to her mouth. The bed was opposite and she could now see what was happening. She was both shocked and horrified at the scene that greeted her. Inside the room Wendy was naked and tied to the bed, and lying on top of her was an equally naked Tim Walker. His backside pumping up and down. They were having sex together!
Tracy turned her back to the door and retained a hand to her mouth. For a while she remained dumbfounded. Even though she was half expecting something like this to be happening behind her back, it still came as a great surprise. Wendy belonged to her and Tim had no right to be doing these things to the one she loved most dearly.
Tracy could not contain herself any longer. She swung around and burst into the room.
“What do you two think you’re doing?” she said angrily as the door flew open and banged noisily against the wardrobe behind.
Wendy screamed and Tim stopped his pumping and turned his head.
“Wendy!… how could you do this to me?” snarled Tracy as she approached the bed.
Tim extracted his penis and rose up to a kneeling position on the bed. With his rampant erection thrust forward he defended their actions.
“Tracy… can’t you see?… we’re having sex together… we love each other… now will you please go away?” he told her.
Tracy shook her head in grief. Her eyes were full of tears. She turned to Wendy.
“Wendy!… don’t we mean anything anymore?… I thought it was me you loved!” she said with great passion.
Wendy felt as angry as Tim. Tracy should not have burst into her bedroom like that.
She spoke to Tim.
“Tim… untie me… let’s get out of here,… let’s go,” she said sharply.
Tim set about untying the ropes that bound her arms and legs to the four corner posts of the bed.
Tracy began to sob openly.
“Oh Wendy!… how could you do this thing to me?” she cried.
Tim hurriedly finished off the untying. Once she was free Wendy swung round on the bed and stood up to confront Tracy.
“Tracy… it’s all over between me and you… do you understand?… It’s me and Tim from now on… we love each other… so don’t stand in our way,” she screamed directly into Tracy’s face.
Tracy wiped away the tears and sniffed deeply.
“Wendy… I love you… you can’t do this to me,” she sobbed.
“Yes I can,” Wendy snarled back.
Tracy turned and hurried out of the bedroom. She stumbled her way along the corridor, bumping between wall and rail until she came to her own room. She then threw herself down on the bed. She was sobbing deeply.
Tracy’s world had fallen in around her.
Wendy waited until Tracy had gone. She then turned to Tim.
“Come on Tim, let’s get out of here,” she told him; her voice raised and angry.

5:00 pm

In the eternal darkness forced upon her by the swathes of tape wrapped about her head, Sylvia Sparelli listened to the approaching footsteps and a cold shiver shuddered down her spine. Her captor and tormentor was returning. She prayed that he had not come to hurt her anymore.
The vice-like boards that gripped her breasts were still in place. But thankfully the pain had long gone. Everywhere was numb now. However pain still raked her joints whenever she tried to move. This was especially so at the shoulders and hips. She was stretched so taught the balls of her joints were on the point of coming from their sockets. But she had learnt quickly to counter the pain, and that to remain perfectly still was the answer. It was only with movement, even the slightest twitch of a muscle, that the pain returned and became unbearable. Now, after many hours of being left on her own, she knew exactly how to control the pain. She simply had to lie perfectly still and not move a muscle. Even her breathing was shallow and controlled.
Sylvia listened to her captor put something down on the floor a short distance away then turn and come towards her. The footsteps stopped alongside the rack and she held her breath in fear. Instinct somehow told her that to beg for mercy would only incite her captor into dishing out more pain. As an act of self preservation she decided to remain perfectly still and not say a word.
A solitary finger touched her between the legs and traced a line along her crack. Her body gave a little involuntary shudder as the finger toyed with her clitoris. Immediately the pain in her shoulders and hips returned. She wanted to scream but knew that to do so would only make matters worse. Instead she bit hard on her bottom lip and concentrated on keeping perfectly still.
Two fingers entered her virgina and began to tease and caress her inner walls. Suddenly this was torture of the worst kind. She wanted to sway with the fingers. She wanted the man to touch the spot that would bring her the most pleasure, but to direct the fingers to the point she wanted only brought pain - terrible, agonising pain - and she did not know what to do. Then suddenly she heard herself groaning. She just could not help herself. The sounds just kept coming out.
To make matters worse the fingers stopped what they were doing just as they came in contact with the correct spot. They extracted themselves and returned to toy with her clitoris. After a while they moved on. A momentarily tug and twist to her pubic hairs followed before marching fingers set off across her stomach. They scaled the breast-clamps and to came to rest at the peak of an erect blue nipple. Another hand joined the first, to grip the second nipple, and together they squeezed and distorted the already misshapen flesh.
However, apart from the continuous rocking of the upper body, Sylvia felt no pain from the contact. Circulation had long gone from her breasts. Beneath her shrouded eyes she closed her lids tightly and returned to biting hard on her bottom lip. She prayed that the ordeal would soon be over and that the man would go away.
Then something she was not expecting happened. Firstly she found the tension in the rack being released. Not much, but enough for the ball joints in her arms and legs to return to their sockets, and just enough to enable a twitch of the odd muscle and feel no discomfort.
“Thank you,” she heard herself saying, then repeat over and over again; “thank you… thank you… thank you.”
She did not know why she was saying these things. The words just kept coming out the moment the pressure relaxed.
For a moment the man cackled that awful high-pitched laugh of his, then his hands returned to the breast-clamp.
Sylvia realised that she had spoken out of turn and was about to beg for forgiveness, when suddenly she felt a turn of one of the screws and the pressure that gripped her breasts began to diminish. The man was removing the horrible boards that flattened her tits.
Once more an involuntary voice whispered: “Thank you.”
The words were spoken on the spur of the moment and came with no forethought. Once again Sylvia expected punishment, but nothing of the sort occurred. Slowly, one by one, the screws became undone.
It did not take long for the breast-clamp to relax its grip. Possible because her tits remained flattened, but Sylvia had no way of telling what state her breasts were in. She waited until she heard the breast-clamp clutter away beneath the bench on which she lay before breathing a big sigh of relief. Her ordeal was over, and for that she was truly grateful.
Next something else she was not expecting happened. A bottle was placed against her lips and water tricked across her face and ran down her cheeks. She glugged the liquid down eagerly. She did not realise just how thirsty she was and she swallowed every bit of water that splashed into her mouth.
Soon it was all over. After offering the drink, and presumably draining the bottle, the man moved away.
Sylvia listened closely to his movements. She was much more comfortable now and able to concentrate a little better. She thought she heard the muffled sounds of a girl moaning, but could not be certain. It sounded like a protest against something being forced into her mouth. But the sound only came once, and the more intensely she listened the more she began to doubt that she had ever heard anything in the first place.
However, there remained a nagging doubt that she was not alone. Could it be that her captor was holding another prisoner not far away in this echoing chamber? And if so, could it possibly be Gayle Jackson, a colleague from Cropwatch who had disappeared some two weeks earlier?

9:00 pm

Tim Walker turned his bright red sports car into a small car park belonging to a country public house called the ‘Shoulder of Mutton’. He stopped his car, switched off the headlights and looked to the black and white timbered building to his left. Wendy was seated in the passenger seat by his side. They were in a small East Midlands village called Muddleton Morton.
Tim and Wendy were looking for somewhere to stay for a few nights. Somewhere that was quiet and out of the way. Wendy said she knew the perfect place. She had been here once before.
“Are you sure they do bed and breakfast here?” asked Tim quizzically.
The building looked too small to accommodate visitors, and there was nothing to advertise the fact on the front of the building.
Wendy nodded her head.
“This is the place Tim, and they’ve got rooms for the night,” she assured him.
Wendy had been to Muddleton Morton four months earlier when working for the Pact. On that occasion they were closing in on Malcolm Smith, the original Caretaker. At the time he was holed up in a small cottage not far from the village. That cottage was called Cuckoo Cottage.
Tim got out of the car.
“Wait here Wendy… I’ll go and see if they can put us up for a few nights,” he told her.
Wendy waited patiently for Tim to return.
Sitting alone in the car brought back memories of Muddleton Morton. They were happy memories. They were memories of retribution. Malcolm Smith had been her tormentor. He had imprisoned her in a cage and hung her by the thumbs, and revenge, when it came had been so sweet. Yes, the quiet little English village of Muddleton Morton was probably her most favourite place in the whole wide world.
After about ten minutes Tim returned.
Wendy wound down her window and waited for the news. She collected her thoughts and tried not to show her joyous emotions. Deep down she was praying rooms were available. To be truthful she did not know whether the inn catered for overnight guests.
Tim bent down to speak through the open window of the car. Wendy’s fingers were crossed on her lap.
“You were right Wendy,” he informed her, “they’ve got rooms. I’ve booked ourselves in for four nights… we’re here until Monday morning.”
Wendy smiled and got out of the car. Inwardly she glowed and her body tingled. She told herself, four nights with Tim at a secret hideaway was going to be just fantastic. This was her first lover’s tryst and she tried hard to contain her excitement.
Tim grabbed their travel bags from the back of the car and they set off across the car park.
“There’s a telephone here if you want to report home,” Tim told her as they climbed the steps to the country inn.
Wendy shook her head. She did not want anyone to know where she and Tim were.
“I’d prefer not to,” she told Tim. “Anyway, Tracy knows I’m with you… she’ll tell everyone in Littlesea I’m safe… so let’s just enjoy the next four days together shall we?.. Let’s just forget all about the rest of the world.”
Tim tried hard to contain his joy. His parents were away on an Easter break so he had no need to phone home either. Tim was a man deeply in love and had at last found his perfect match.
“Then let’s make the most of the next four days shall we?” he told Wendy. “We can take walks by the river and just sit around and relax.”
They looked each other in the eyes, held hands tightly and entered the inn.
With four days of unlimited sex, and with a little bit of bondage thrown in for good measure, Tim recognised that he was indeed a very fortunate young man. He also liked the idea of secrecy. It was all so very exciting.
Wendy’s thoughts were very much the same. For four days it would be just her, Tim, and nobody else. What a great feeling that was.
 
* * *

End of Chapter Twenty-seven