Chapter 2

After the first frenzied rape of their captive women the four abductors directed Sophie and Priscilla to clean themselves up. They were told to take a shower and put on some pretty clothes. As they made their way to the room assigned to them Sophie heard a generator start up and the gloom in the cabin was relieved by electric light.

Alone in their bedroom, Sophie tried to comfort her daughter but Priscilla was having none of it. She was beside herself with rage and terror. She blamed her mother for what had happened.

"Why did you encourage them with that disgusting dance?" Priscilla screamed at Sophie. "I thought I was going to split when that horrid Ben ripped my panties off and started to ... to..." She burst into a torrent of tears. When Sophie tried to hold her the young woman pushed her mother away.

"I thought they were going to kill me. I couldn't breathe," she sobbed. "That nasty one who threatened Trevor with a gun handcuffed me and I couldn't stop him putting his p ... p ... penis in my mouth. He nearly choked me. He squirted his filthy juice into my face. It's all your fault." She tossed herself onto the bed and lay there sobbing.

Sophie left her daughter to cry. After unpacking soap, shampoo, and towel from her suitcase she wrapped the towel around her waist and set off into the twilight to find the showers. The ablution building was separate from the main cabin. It was next to the kitchen. The four shower stations were not partitioned. They faced a row four toilet cubicles boasting surprisingly modern self-contained green technology. Next to them was a row of hand basins with a cracked mirror above each one. A grimy window at the end of the toilet block looked out onto the kitchen.

Sophie was surprised the water was warm—she learned later that it was heated by the kitchen range—and for a brief moment forgot her problems as she soaped and sponged the sticky residue left by the rapists from between her legs and out of her hair. When she had finished Sophie thought she would try a speak to Trevor who she could see standing by the kitchen door. Before she could call out Charlie appeared and spoke to her husband. Sophie couldn't hear what Charlie was saying but the conversation ended with the bearded rapist slapping his prisoner about the face. She decided not to risk a confrontation and hurried back to her room.

Trevor, meanwhile, picked himself up off the concrete floor of the kitchen. He dabbed his split lip with the sleeve of his shirt and glared at his jailer. "Why?" he mumbled. "Why are you doing this?"

Charlie looked down at the smaller man. He grinned.

"Because I want the salad done the way I like it, and the steaks not too rare, and not over-cooked. So you do as I tell you or you get a slapping."

"That's not what I meant..." began Trevor, before Charlie slapped him down again. Charlie had powerful arms and big hands.

"You mean why are we fucking your women and chaining you to the kitchen floor? Because we can, Bozo, and because it gives us pleasure. And because you are a thief and a swindler whose disappearance will cause no real alarm."

Trevor tried not to groan as he hauled himself upright again.

"So, load the trolley first— knives, forks, plates—six of everything. Salad, bread from the bin, sauces, mustard. Then cook the steaks. Now remember, no longer than five minutes each side and when they are done you ring the bell. In about half an hour's time. One of the women will come and collect the trolley. Don't try to talk to her or you'll get another beating. Do you understand?"

Trevor nodded to avoid a threatened slap.

"Good," said Charlie. "When you've done the washing up, banked up the fire, and got the trolley ready for breakfast you can turn in. You'll get used to sleeping on concrete and there's a blanket on the top shelf of the cupboard. If you need to go there's a bucket outside the kitchen door. Wash your hands if you use it. Tomorrow morning one of us will escort you to the shower block. Hey, don't drop the soap."

Trevor was about to risk another slap by protesting this treatment when a series of sharp screams shattered the evening stillness.

"Sounds like your step-daughter is getting some instruction. It always takes time before everyone learns their place," Charlie grumbled before heading back to the cabin.

When Sophie returned to the women's room she found Doug standing by the bed. He held Priscilla by her right wrist with one hand and was massaging his groin with the other. The young woman regarded him with a mixture of horror and loathing. "No ... no..." she kept repeating.

"Why didn't this stuck-up little bitch go take a shower as she was fucking well told?"said Doug to Sophie as she entered the room.

"She was upset," said Sophie hurrying to her daughter's side. "She needed time to recover from the disgusting performance that you and the blonde monster put her through."

"Ben's no monster, woman. And you didn't answer my question. This slut disobeyed an order," said the rapist. "And that's a punishable offence. She's a naughty girl. She should be spanked. You want to do it, or shall I?"

"Do what?" asked Sophie, desperately trying to think of a way out of the situation.

"Put the little slut over your knee and make her ass cheeks glow. You do it and you can use a slipper. If you won't, I'll use my belt on her." His hand shifted from his bulging groin to the buckle of his thick leather belt.

"No. Don't do it. Mother!" screamed Priscilla.

Sophie realized she had no real choice. She rummaged in her suitcase and found a soft soled slipper then sat down on the hard wooden chair and nodded to Doug.

"Bring her to me. I'm ready," said Sophie as she adjusted the towel over her thighs, thereby exposing her breasts.

Priscilla struggled and wept as Doug dragged her to her mother's chair and forced her to lie across Sophie's lap.

"Lie still you little bitch," Doug grunted, Sophie heard the click of closing handcuffs and saw Doug had fastened her daughter's hands to the low rail between the legs of the chair. "Now," he said. "Lay into her, mommy. Let me hear her scream."

And scream Priscilla did at every stroke of the slipper, despite the fact that Sophie pulled nearly every blow on the young woman's naked cum-smeared buttocks. Sophie was aware Doug had taken a small digital camera from his pocket and was recording the occasion. He seemed fascinated by the way her breasts bounced as she raised the slipper and then brought it crashing down on Priscilla's rose colored cheeks and at Priscilla's hopeless struggle to wriggle free from Sophie's strong grasp.

The spanking ended when Doug said in a husky voice, "That's enough for now, cunt." She turned and saw he had loosened his belt and lowered his trousers to half-mast. His fat, thick veined, uncircumcised cock was fully erect and drooling in anticipation as he worked the foreskin back and forward. "Hold her ass cheeks apart. Let the dog see the rabbit."

"Oh, no," cried Sophie. "Not her. Not like that again. Take me instead."

"I will take you," panted Doug. "But not just yet. Open her for me or I'll use the buckle of my belt on her. And do it now!"

Priscilla was barely aware of what was going on. She wept and swore at Sophie who could do nothing to persuade Doug to change his mind.

Sophie, trembling with shame and fear, placed a hand on each ruddy cheek and pressed them apart. She saw that Ben's earlier penetration had stretched Priscilla's anal orifice somewhat but she judged Doug would struggle to insert his thicker cock. As the dark haired rapist stepped between Priscilla's outstretched legs Sophie reached for Doug's erection. "Be gentle,"she begged as she stroked him with one hand and cupped his balls in the other.

"She's only a kid." Sophie whispered as she rubbed Doug's thick cock up and down the valley between Priscilla's buns.

"Stop it, Mother! Stop it!" screamed Priscilla.

"Just lubricate her a little," Sophie said persuasively to Doug. "Otherwise you will hurt her."

Doug grinned down at her. "That, lady, is the whole fucking intention." And so saying he slapped Sophie's restraining hands aside and plunged his rampant cock into the teenager's already ravaged ass.

When he had done—his cruel act of sodomy performed with Sophie's seeming cooperation did not take long—he withdrew and spent copiously on Sophie's recently bathed breasts and her daughter's ass-cheeks. Stripping naked himself, Doug then dragged the women to the ablution block. He joined them in a quick shower and left the pair with a warning to be dressed and ready for dinner in fifteen minutes time. Neither woman spoke as they returned to their room and dressed. Both put on little black dresses and pumps. The outfits were very suitable for cocktails at the upmarket health spa they had planned to visit but seemed incongruous to Sophie in the backwoods situation they were in. Sophie wore black nylon stockings and a sexy garter belt hoping the traditional "fuck-me" look would divert some of the sexual attention away from her frightened and angry daughter. Priscilla regarded her mother with loathing.