Harriet - A Prisoner
Chapter 8

Copyright© 2007 by Horatio

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 8 - Harriet goes to Africa to help the Third World and becomes a Toiling Captive.

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   BDSM   Sadistic  

Back in England - Some Months after Harriet's Capture.

Gwendoline woke up and looked around her, wondering where she was. She had fallen asleep on the lawn, near the extensive rock garden that had been made from the spoil from building her lovely new swimming pool - the pool which her darling friend had helped her to dig.

It was ten months, now, since she had received the shocking news of Harriet's gruesome murder by rebels in the country whose people she had worked so hard to help. She had been on the point of leaving for the airport to be reunited with her, when her phone had rung. Jim had heard her awful shriek and had come running to find his wife lying senseless on the floor.

Almost ten months on she no longer felt the horrible despair that had gripped her for weeks after that dreadful news, but she was still sad whenever her eye lighted on any of the many reminders of her dear friend - reminders which were everywhere to be seen.

What had caused her morning nap to be interrupted was the sound of a disapproving and indignant voice.

"Well - I don't believe it! Disgusting! It really is disgusting. Have you no shame to lie around like that in a public place, young woman?"

It took a few moments for the shades of sleep to disperse and Gwen looked up to see that a group of people, three women and a man (to whom she took an instant dislike) were standing looking down at her.

"What's the problem - you've lost me, I'm afraid?" she replied.

"Lying there naked in full view of anyone who might pass by - that's the problem, my good young woman!"

"Why don't you go and fucking well play with yourself, you fucking insolent cunt? This is my property on which you - you obnoxious piece of shit are tresspassing. So piss off and let me get back to sleep. And don't, on any account, even think about having a nice day!"

Having delivered herself of this characteristically foul-mouthed rebuke Gwendoline prepared to go back to sleep.

"I'll not be spoken to like that my good young woman, and I'll thank you to cover up or I'll call the police"

"Fuck off"

"I'm not joking young woman!"

"You are a fucking joke - you arsehole! If you don't piss off and take your lady friends with you, I'll personally kick you off my property."

The infuriated man strode towards her at this and promptly found himself lying on his back, with Gwendoline's shapely and bronzed foot pressing warmly onto his throat.

One of the three ladies spoke.

"I'm sorry about my brother. I have to say that you are a very perceptive young lady, having delivered such an accurate character analysis on the basis of so short an acquaintance. Can we start again, please? I rather think we are lost."

Gwen smiled and the lady continued.

"We knew perfectly well that this was a private garden - if an extremely large one, but my brother hates private property. It's like a red rag to a bull to him. Please don't let him up for a bit, my dear - he looks in his proper place down there!"

Gwen's good humour was restored by this and she obligingly kept her foot on the man's throat as the lady asked her where exactly they all were. When the young Countess replied, she blushed and smiled.

"Of course. How silly of me! You're the Naked Countess that the tabloids were so full of for a while after that wonderful nude ball you organised for the village last year! I bet that was a night to remember!"

 
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