The Borrowed Girl
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2014 by harry lime

Thriller Sex Story: Chapter 7 - DCI Griffin on the trail of kidnappers. Or is there something else involved in the strange disappearance of Rebecca Harrison?

Caution: This Thriller Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   girl   Consensual   Coercion   Blackmail   Heterosexual   Mystery   Light Bond   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Violence  

Max closed the door behind the two coppers and breathed a sigh of relief.

It had been a close call. Not two minutes after they reached the waiting vans the feeble voice of the distressed girl wafted up through the floorboards into the dismally cold hallway.

"Please, is anyone there? I want to go home!"

His mind was racing. "Did the sharp-eyed coppers see anything?"

"Did they notice his sister's flights of fancy and befuddled brain?"

He didn't think so but one never knew with these sly rascals.

In any event, he had the money, he still had the girl and he hadn't been taken to jail. Now he had to get the girl back to her parents with as little difficulty as possible. The only concern he had was that she was showing signs of coming down with some sort of virus totally unrelated to her kidnapped circumstances. He was certain she had not seen his face in the light and that it would be almost impossible for her to describe either his sister or he to the authorities and she had no idea at all of where they had stashed her.

The basement was quiet now and the girl was asleep again. She was sitting up and her head was hanging off to one side like she had no control over her neck muscles. Still, she was breathing properly and her pulse was good. He remembered taking the rectal temperature and how pleasing her little rump was in the basement solitude. He was certain his treatment was proper and appropriate under the circumstances and he had taken no liberties with the girl. It was a matter of honor with him that he only interfere with females who had attained the legal age of engaging in carnal relations. That would insure he would never be labeled a pervert because perverts in the prison system suffered far more than the non-incarcerated public would ever suspect.

He bundled the girl up in a raincoat he had stolen from a charity thrift store. It would be untraceable to him or his sister and reduce any chance of evidence to be used against them in a court of law.

Max knew he was worried for good reason. The entire operation was teetering on one leg and there were a lot of gaps in his plans that were entirely out of his control. The primary objective right now was to get the girl away from his house and away from his increasingly confused sister who was not entirely clear about her reason for being in the basement.

His only other means of transportation was the old motorbike in the garage that had the sidecar attached to it like some World War II relic of a bygone era. He put the googles and the helmet on the girl and then pressed the button that raised the garage door.

The light that streamed in strained his eyes at first and then he saw the two coppers standing right outside with a back-up of at least another half-dozen uniformed constables. The driveway was blocked by the two police vans and his route was cut-off by the silly cement urns that his parents had insisted be placed along the edges like some Greek entryway of pretentious design.

They didn't have to say anything.

He just cut the engine and waited for the handcuffs feeling some degree of relief that the whole mess had finally come to an end. He didn't feel particularly defeated. It was just a setback in his eyes. A setback that could be rectified at a later date depending on the length of the sentence. After all, they hadn't killed anyone and no one was actually injured. He just had to be careful that not too many photographs were taken of him in custody because there were likely dozens of female victims who had succumbed to his well-planned confrontations in almost deserted places.

The constables who entered the home discovered a naked Dolly on the staircase. As soon as she saw their uniforms, she ran up the stairs to the back bedroom and was out on the ledge before they could reach her.

Dolly didn't scream on the way down to the cement patio. She landed rather awkwardly on her head and her neck snapped mercifully before she realized what she had actually done. The constables thought it was a shame that an attractive mature woman had come to such an end. Of course, if they had been able to look into her nightmare mind, they would have reached an entirely different conclusion. Her testimony would never be forthcoming in her brother's trial of kidnapping with the intent to do Grave Bodily Harm.

Max carefully kept his mouth shut having been through this process so many times in the past. He would wait for his solicitor before answering any questions. He knew they had him dead to rights but a clever brief would be sure to find a loophole somewhat in the judicial system. He heard them talking about his sister Dolly and he was secretly relieved to know she would not be subject to the ridicule and harassment of being an accessory in her fragile mental state.

 
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