Retreat - Cover

Retreat

Copyright© 2019 by Colin the Dogg

Chapter 7

The four people are sitting in almost complete silence. This weekend has been very warm, record breaking for the time of year in some places resulting in almost no cloud cover. It does not help that Friday had been the full moon and tonight the earth’s shadow is only trimming the edge. It may not be daylight, but it may has well have been.

All they can do is hope that there is no watching and they make their way to the target. Reaching the stone wall, they make their way around, so at least their incursion over the wall will be hidden by the shadow of the house.

Practiced teamwork gets them all over the obstacle in less than a minute and soon, Double Ess is soon picking the lock on the front door. The soft click and gentle pressure opens the door and he signals success to the team, and as he moves inside the others are at his rear.

Looking around as he enters, Double Ess smiles at the sight of the main fuse box, high on the wall in an alcove obviously used as a cloakroom. Grinning at the good fortune, he reaches up and switches the power off.

Collette, Double Ess and Mack take positions in the open hallway as a woman’s voice is heard shouting, “Will one of you morons see to the fucking lights.”

Three large shadows and a smaller one appear at the top of the stairs, they hear the sound of a slap and a male voice say, “hurry the fuck up,” the smaller shadow moves quickly down the stairway and heads toward the fuse box.

As he opens the panel to the fuses, a hand covers his mouth, and an arm closes around his throat, the figure struggles for only a few seconds before going limp. Plod binds his wrists and ankles together with zip ties and presses the unconscious figure into the corner, a male voice comes from the landing above. “What are you playing at you sack of shit, get the fucking lights back on.”

Getting no reply, obviously angry voices are heard coming from the landing and another, much larger shadow begins to move down, two more shadows can be seen joining the remaining two on the landing.

The large figure is incapacitated almost as easily as the first by the well trained and battle seasoned, ex-Royal Marine. He does however manage to make a stifled noise of complaint just before he collapses.

As Plod is immobilising his prey a voice calls out, “Errol, Errol, what’s going on down there?”

Again, there are sounds of men speaking and four figures begin their descent, one of them calls again. Who is down there? I’ve got a gun, come out into the open.

Multiple phhtt sounds are heard along with surprised sounds of pain, two of the figures drop and roll down the few remaining stairs.

The four men begin shouting, the two still standing turn and run up the stairs shouting, “Intruders, Robbie and James have been shot.” Four more times the phhht sounds are heard, one shouts “oww,” the other shouts, “that fucking hurts, what are they shooting? It’s not bullets.”

After the men at the foot of the stairs are immobilised with ties, Collette presses on the throat of one and demands, “Who else is in the house? How many?”

“What the fuck is this, who the fuck are you?

“We’re asking the questions, now, talk.”

“Fuck you.”

Collette moves her foot slightly and presses, the man is quickly unconscious. Mack, squeezes and viciously twists one of the other man’s nipples, “Right you cock sucker, you heard the lady, speak or she’ll be doing this to your bollocks.” Above them, two brief sounds of violence are heard.

The trussed man goes rigid, although in the darkness, neither Mack, nor Collette can see his features clearly, they both know he is terrified. He mumbles, “Five, six blokes, five women.”

“Where are they?”

“First floor, one woman alone on the second, her ladyship is on the top floor, and one bloke locked in the cellars.”

Women’s screams come from above and stop almost immediately.

“Ta,” Collette says and smacks him in the stomach with the end of her nightstick.

Collette and Mack, check the doorways on the ground floor are clear, they find the stairs leading down through the third door they try. They make sure the other rooms are clear, before beginning the descent to the cellar.

The darkness is absolute and both silently thanking Charlie had had the foresight to provide them with the night vision goggles as they pull them over their eyes. The stairway goes down further than expected, turning a right angled corner to the left after ten steps, twice before ending at a long corridor.

There are only two doors on only one side of the corridor and none on the other. The first is a small room, it smelled wet, foisty and unwelcoming. The next seemed to have once been a storeroom the shelves littered with tins and open bags of things, that had they been interested in what they contained they could not tell in the green coloured enhanced light of their goggles.

Next was a large square opening with two other corridors running from it. They each take a corridor, Mack finds two doorways in his corridor, the first, an office, sparsely furnished, the second...

Michael lay quietly, for some reason, although it is always quiet in his room, for some reason, he feels it is quieter than the normal quietness. It feels eerie and his heart is pounding hard, when suddenly, the quietness stops.

He hears the draw bolt slide and the creak and groan of the old hinges and then a voice comes out of the darkness.

“Mike, thank fuck, you’re sister sent us and we’ve come to take you home.”

The voice sounds familiar, but he cannot put a name to it, he is not convinced it is real.

“Mike, I know you can’t see shit, we took out the leccy. Plod an’ Double Ess are upstairs, Major Fitz’ is searching another corridor, c’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

“Who ... who?”

“Fuck you can’t see, sorry mate, it’s Mack, we met at the weddin’, well, Stag night.’”

“Doe night,” Michael replies.

“Ah, we never did get that settled did we, but I still say if someone’s marryin’ a woman, then it’s a stag, even if the bloke’s a bird.”

Michael does not reply, he is sure the voice coming from the darkness is nothing more than his imagination, and then something touches him and he screams. The voice had been bad enough, but the touch sends him retreating mentally into a safe place, a place of denial.

“Shhh, me old buddy, calm yourself down, it’s alright, you’re safe now.”

“The sound of running comes toward them “Mack, are you ... Mike, we’ve found you.”

“Coll’, is that you, really you?” he asks, as he begins to worry he really has lost the plot, he knows he is awake, but he cannot believe it is real and his mind begins to retreat to a safe place.

“Yes bud, the cavalry’s here. Mack. Nothing else down here but a surveillance room. Let’s get Mike upstairs an’ get the lights back on. Then we can sort these cunts out proper like.”

“Yessir.”

“C’mon mate, can you walk?” Mack says, keeping a grip on the sobbing man. As soon as they get him in the corridor, Collette takes her brother in law’s, other arm and they guide him back to, and up the stairs.

All three find the moonlight brighter than expected, Collette and Mack curse as they remove their Night Vision Goggles. “Mack, go turn the lights on mate.”

“Sir.”

Seconds later he shouts, “lights on in 3, 2, on”

Michael blinks, the moonlight had been bad enough, but the brightness of the artificial lights are almost blinding and it takes him several minutes to stop blinking, even then he is seeing trails on anything bright, especially if it is moving. He hears a man screaming in pain and Collette shouting, “Where’s the fucking key to that contraption?”

“I can’t my mistress won’t want me to tell you.”

She pulls on the metal object constricting his genitals and he screams. “Listen to me carefully; if you don’t tell me, I am going to cause you more pain than anything that bitch has ever given you. I will only stop if I have nearly killed you,” she releases her hold, “or would you rather I torture her?”

“No please, hurt me, if you need to hurt someone, I beg you, please hurt me.”

She throws him to the floor and turns as if to the stairs, towards the woman. He cries out, “Please, please, I beg you don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t hurt her for now, if you start talking.”

“Okay, I will talk, but please, promise me you won’t hurt her, I love her, I will tell you but please don’t hurt her.”

Collette snorts, even she is not sure whether it signifies pity or disgust, before telling him to talk.

Taking her order to talk as an agreement he says, “Goddess Celestia keeps it in her chiffonier,” his voice shaking in fear.

“Celestia, Goddess,” Collette scoffs, “an’ what the fuck is a shiff on ya, ay, eh?”

“It’s the tall cupboard with drawers and a cupboard underneath, in her bedroom.” He answers nervously.

“I’ll get it,” Double Ess shouts down. “I’ll bring the scrawny old bitch with me.”

A man’s raised voice is heard, followed by a woman screeching something about knowing his place and then as suddenly as it started, stops. Two minutes later Double Ess is marching down the stairs with a woman flung unceremoniously over his shoulder and a pillowcase stuffed full of some things in his other hand. “Dunno about any shiftin’ wee’s but I found this lot in a sideboard.”

Plod, unable to persuade Michelle he is there to rescue her and Michael, begins an attempt to break in the door, a process made harder by the chair braced under the doorknob.

Double Ess drops both packages in front of Collette and Michael. Michael’s reflexes cause him to recoil, at least until his anger rises and then he leaps on the woman, trying to strangle the defenceless prisoner.

“For Christ’s sake stop him,” Michelle’s voice rings out above the chuckles coming from the black clad foursome as they watch the naked man extracting a little revenge.

“Enough,” Collette orders and Mack and Double Ess, pull him away. Once separated, Double Ess returns to sorting through the spilled contents of the pillowcase. Finding a key ring with several small keys, he hands it to Michael, “Try these mate.”

“Mike, keys,” Double Ess, says to emphasise what he has just given him, “to take that fucking contraption off.”

Michael stands, holding the keys and gives no sign he has heard anything and even less that he had understood.

“Fuck it, it’s making my eyes water,” Double Ess grunts and taking the keys, he drops down to one knee and unlocks the sickening device. Allowing it and its lock to drop, he stands and kicks it, sending it sliding across the floor.

Collette looks down at the scattered trussed bodies on the floor. “Put them all together and then search the place for anything interesting or useful.” Cutting the woman’s foot binding, she pulls her to her feet and slaps her hard. “So bitch, you are going to tell me everything you have been up to, and I do mean everything, the why’s the who’s, the where’s and the whatever’s, got that.”

The woman glares at Collette; there is no fear in her eyes, only defiance. Three crying women, dressed in lingerie and bound together with zip straps walk down to the ground floor. Mack follows behind, dragging a man by ankle bindings, ignoring his complaints as he bounces down the steps.

Plod walks out of a doorway carrying two bottles of water, seeing the movement Michael looks at him, seeing the bottles, his distrust returns and he begins shaking his head in refusal.

“I’m sure they’re safe, mate. Still sealed, look.” He shows Michael the seal is still intact, but the memory of his first visit to the woman in her office and the tempting bottle sitting on her desk. “Mike, mate, we can see you’re dehydrated, you’ve got cracked lips, bloodshot eyes and you’re skins dry and pale. You’ve gotta have a drink.”

Michael struggles with what he is seeing and hearing and what he is remembering. He hears a voice that would be saying, “C’mon mate, just wet your mouth at least,” if he could connect the words into a sentence he can understand.

The front door bursts open and Amanda rushes in. “Mike,” she cries out, “What the fuck have they done to you?”

She runs over and wraps her arms around him, holding his now quivering body. “Get him to take a drink Mandy,” Plod is almost begging her.

The sight, the touch of his sister confuses him, how is she part of this? He wonders trying to make sense of the sudden influx of people. A voice, a man he vaguely remembers, a man whose name he cannot remember is talking, “Here’s, your clothes Mike, you can get dressed now or have a shower if you like,”

Mike picks up on a word, Clothes, and wonders why is somebody talking about clothes?

Amanda looks up, over her brothers trembling shoulder and her face turns red with anger, releasing her brother she steps around Michael and punches the woman hard enough to put her on the floor again. “You cocksucking whore, what have you done to him?”

“The woman looks up from the floor and smiling says, “A lot less than I would have and a lot less than he deserves.” Amanda screams and lashes out with her foot.

“If I were you, I’d start talking, if not, I’ll let her have you and I’ll tell you know, the mood she’s in, I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end.” Collette says, with a coldness that should have brought the temperature of the room down by several degrees.

The woman sneers a challenge, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Collette looks at her with disgust and says, “You haven’t got a clue about how far I will go, but I’m a vindictive bitch and you fucked with my family. So you think about the worst you’ve ever done and I’ll bet I’ve done worse.” She gives her a smile and says, “You should think about that until I get back.” Turning to Michael she says, “C’mon mate, let’s get you cleaned up and dressed, get some nosh inside you,” and then she turns and looks to the small, weak looking man, “you, show us where everything is.”

As she is speaking, he is looking at the woman as if he is asking her permission. Amanda sees the attempt at an interchange and realising the connection, slaps the woman hard twice, first on one side and then the other. She leans forwards so their noses are almost touching and growls quietly, “You fucking bitch, we’re going to take my brother and get him comfortable. I am going to stay with him, and, “gesturing to Collette with a tilt of her head, “When this one gets back you had better start talking. Cos if you ‘aven’t started to spill your guts by the time I get back, I’ll fuck you up so you’ll never walk, fuck or suck ever again.”

She stands and looking at Michelle, says, “strap up this cunt, I’ll be having words with her as well when this cow’s done talkin’.” The background noise of soft sobs and snivels is suddenly accompanied by a wailing, “I didn’t know ... they lied to meee ... please I haven’t done anything wrong, let me see Mike, I need him. Pleeease Mandeeee...”

The whining and pleading continues until after the girls lead Michael to the woman’s quarters, there, Collette quickly finds the bathroom, giving him clothes and making sure he has a towel they leave him to attend to himself and go looking for something to feed him.

Amanda returns for him after ten minutes to find him standing in the same position they had left him, staring at the cascading water. “Bruv, go on, give yourself a swill, you’ll feel better for it, honest.”

He remains motionless, giving her no indication of having heard her. She goes to him and staring him in the eyes, she says, “Sorry bruv,” and slaps him across the face hard.

“Oww, Mand’, that fucking hurt, why’d you hit me. What are you doing in the shower with me? Get out.”

She grins and says, hurry up bruv, Coll’s making you a bacon and egg butty.”

Confused and rubbing his stinging cheek he does as he has been told. It is only when he is washing his genitals does he fully realise, it is all real and he has been rescued. After drying himself and dressing he moves the the unfamiliar room to find his sister and her wife.

He only finds Amanda, she gives him the sandwich and tells him to take it steady, not to eat too quickly. Standing beside the plate is an unopened bottle of a German lager and an opener.

“There you are, get your laughin’ gear round that and then you can tell me what the fuck has been going on since you rang on Friday night, Coll’s gone down to chat with the bitch that runs this place.”

“It ... It’s safe?” He asks having found his voice after quenching his thirst with the water from the shower. It may have been warm and unpalatable, but not coming from an open cup it was a source he trusted.

He stares at the sandwich, fresh bread cut into doorsteps, dripping with the melting thick butter, bacon rashers and two eggs. Food he had on more than one occasion said he would be happy to eat for every meal for the rest of his life. His mouth salivates and his stomach sounds like rolling thunder, and yet he makes no move to take it.

Amanda pulls another bottle of lager from the fridge, slams it down next to the other and cuts the sandwich in half. “Right, I’m going to turn my back, you choose which bottle you want to give me and which half of the sandwich you want to eat and I’ll have the other. I will eat and drink what you give me, but hurry the fuck up, I don’t like cold eggs.”

She turns her back and hears the sound of two bottles uncapped and then she hears him chewing, she turns back and he is several mouthfuls into his sandwich.

The food, the smell, the taste and the texture, triggers connections in his brain, allowing sights and sounds to begin to make sense, in turn allowing him to accept reality. He looks at his sister and asks, “Mand’, what are you doing here?”

“Come to bail you out bruv, now what’s been going on?”

Between mouthfuls, chewing as he speaks, he tells her what has been happening. As she listens to his tale her anger seems to rise with almost every word, when he finishes, he asks, “Why did you take so long to come for me, I knew you couldn’t come Saturday and maybe Sunday night was probably too much to hope for, but why did you wait a week?”

“She embraces his quivering body Bruv, they’ve been fucking with your head, It’s Monday night bruv, well early Tuesday morning now. We would’ve come yesterday. Shit, we should have, but we thought we needed intel and weapons. As it was, we came in blind, turns out its a smaller operation than we thought. We ‘ave had the house watched since Saturday and we saw your missus a couple of times out gallivanting with one of those wankers downstairs.”

Tears running from his eyes, he sobs, but a week Mand, it’s been a week.”

“Mike, listen, they’ve been fucking with you. You haven’t been here a week, four ... no, three days, about seventy five hours in all, honest.”

Whether he understands her, she is not sure. He seems to go blank for a second before he begins to flush with anger, “Out ... outside ... with one of those bastards, while I’ve been, I’ve been locked in that dirty shithole with that thing on my knob.” As he speaks, his voice rises as his anger continues to release. “How ... how ... Why the fuck did...”

He jumps to his feet and runs out of the rooms used by that woman. Amanda chases after him, catching him just as he reaches the ground floor.

Michelle, after she was coaxed out of her refuge, was taken down and put with the prisoners. Her mind reels as she sees the small Welshman and the man that stopped her on her way back to join Mark. Trussed up and scared she looks to the movement, seeing her husband, her heart leaps with hope. However as soon as he sees her, he screams, “How could you do this to me?” He is panting as he seethes with anger, “While I’ve been locked in a fucking dungeon being fed nothing but shit and water, you’ve been out fucking sightseeing, being fucking wined and dined by one of these cunts. Why, why didn’t you just fucking tell me you were sick of me, why put me through all that for a fucking week?”

Michelle looks at him in astonishment, what was he talking about? “I know you were doing the same with some dolly bird,” She snaps, “but I managed to get the truth out of Mark, he told me that we were being tested and I passed, he never got more than a kiss out of me.”

“A kiss, you fuckin’ slut,” Collette shouts, grabbing hold of her she pulls her with her, “Come with me.”

She pulls her to the entrance to the cellar stairway, dragging her down the now illuminated stairwell, although Collette has been down there once, the green hued imaging provided by the night vision goggles had not revealed the aberrant contrast to the rest of the house. Mildew, dirt and cobwebs are endemic throughout the corridors, even the large square room shows the neglect.

As she is pulled along by her sister in law, Michelle is horrified by the state of what she is seeing. Getting to the room Mack had found Michael in, Collette throws Michelle through the door and says, perhaps you can spend four days and nights in here and Mike can spend four days living in luxury, having romantic strolls and going for dinners with a lover. I know he doesn’t sail, what do you think he should do instead? Maybe just spend a day with those three trollops upstairs, would do it? I’ll have to ask him.”

Michelle is sickened by what she sees and Collette’s words are cutting her to the quick. Shame filled she quietly whispers “I didn’t kno...”

Her denial is cut short by the sound of the door slamming shut, as a look of horror comes across Michelle’s face as she hears the unmistakeable sound of a dead bolt being drawn shut.

“You can’t ... let me out, let me out,” Michelle screams as she begins to pound on the door.

“You saw me turn on the light, which means Mike was in here in the dark. Of course, I don’t know if it was off all the time, or they were off because it was night time, but I’ll tell you what, I’ll leave the light on for now, just to get you used to your lodgings. Later, if I can be bothered, I’ll get one of the lads to sort out something to eat, I’ll find out how well they fed Mike first, but he did say something about being fed nothing but shit and watery crap ... ta ta.”

Michelle is terrified, the only thing she hears after the sound of Collette’s boots fade away, is the sound of her own blood pounding in her ears. As she looks around the dingy dirt encrusted room she has trouble believing Mike had been imprisoned here while she has been living in luxury, wined, dined and two day trips, escorted by a handsome and charming gigolo.

Upstairs, Sgt Plod has had the small prisoner released and ordered him to sort through the contents of the pillowcase and find similar male chastity devices to the one he and Michael had been wearing and then attach them to the three other male prisoners. He cannot fail to notice, that the man seems to have no qualms about touching their intimate areas he is being none too gentle. He suspects he has reason to despise these men.

While this is happening, Amanda and the woman are staring at one another, neither admitting dominance of the other by looking away.

Michael is still struggling to accept what has happened and also trying to understand how his wife, the woman that he had thought loved him as much as he loved her could not only be complicit in the things done to him, but also seemingly having a nice holiday of scenery, sailing and sightseeing and probably sex with who knows who?

Michael walks up to the group of men and demands, “Which of you cunts has been shagging Michelle?” James grins and replies, we all have, she really got off watching the live video feed from your cell.”

“NO.” Mark shouts, “She has not had sex with anybody since she arrived. I admit, I’ve tried, but all I have gotten from her is a kiss and a cheek that stung for hours. Mate you got to believe me, she has not screwed anyone and she did not have a clue what was happening to you, she thought you were being wined and dined by a beautiful intelligent woman, tomorrow we were going to tell her that you had spent the night with a woman.”

“Why?,” Michael screams, “why the fuck would you do that?”

“It’s a job,” he shrugs, “It’s fun and it pays well, bloody well.”

“And it doesn’t bother you that you’re fucking up people’s lives.”

“No, not until I met your wife, I was supposed to dope her to get her in the mood to play, I didn’t and we talked. The more we talked, the more I liked her, I think she is a wonderful woman and although I can appreciate, that at the moment you will not believe me, but you are a very lucky man. It is because I like her that I’m saying this, really mate, she is as innocent as you.”

After bringing Michael out of the cellars, Mack has been searching the rooms, meticulously going through every, cupboard, drawer and even bags and pockets, anything that could contain anything. He finds nothing of any interest in any of the ground floor or first floor rooms, the second floor, in the woman’s rooms he finds a safe behind a painting. He continues to search and finds little else of interest, he does find a staircase leading up to an attic room with many devices and furnishings of a depraved sexual nature.

Walking back to the uppermost landing he calls down, “Got a safe and a bondage dungeon up here, bring them keys.”

Hearing him, Collette smiles and grabbing the woman by some hairs on the back of her head, in the manner used by many a sadistic teacher since the dawn of time. Hearing her cry out in pain the small man begins shouting, “you’re hurting her, you promised you wouldn’t.” She ignores his pleas and continues to force her to climb upwards to her rooms and then up to the BDSM loft He starts to run at Collette and finds himself flying through the air. He is still rolling with the impetus of the throw, when Amanda pulls the paint gun hanging from her shoulder into the firing position. Phhtt, phhtt, phhtt, shouting, “shut the fuck up weasel.” Collette grins as she hears Michael say, “Wow! Can I have a go?” she hears phhtt, phht, phhtt many times as she forces her unwilling companion to climb and as she approaches the second floor landing, she hears, “anyone got any more ammo?”

Mack is waiting for her and she gives him the keys, “cheers,” he says, there’s also a keypad on it.”

“Well missy, that’s the first question I am asking ... apart from finding out whether you can take it as well as give it, eh?”

“You dumb bitch, I do what I do for stupid cows like you.”

“Really? How is ruining peoples marriages helping me?”

“Not just you you cretin, all women that have to suffer under men’s dominance.”

Mack bursts into laughter as they make their way up to the attic. “You ain’t gotta clue you twat, I’d love to see some tool try and dominate the major. I’ve heard a couple of tales of people that’s tried to get fresh even a little handsy, much to their detriment. I’ve never seen any man get the better of her and I doubt I ever will.”

“So you understand, you know what I am talking about,” she says. He shakes his head and turns away. Hearing the major answering the question, “Yes, you’re a demented bitch that is so inferior to any normal person, that you try to make up for your own inadequacies by bullying and pushing down anyone you know is better than you.”

As she speaks, Collette releases her and the woman turns to face her as she continues to demean her, “You are like a sick little child that pulls the heads off another child’s dollies, seeking only to destroy what is not yours, what you will never have. Let’s face it Doris, the only love you have is from that poor broken specimen downstairs. Nobody else really wants to have anythin’ to do with you, even those cretins downstairs that do your bidding only do so because you pay them. Face it darlin’ you have nothing, not one thing that means anythin’.”

“What do you know? He called you Major, really, Major what, Major whore?”

Three floors down, the slap is heard over the phhtt, phht and oww’s as Michael empties another magazine of paintballs.

When she regains consciousness, she is in agony. Strapped into a harness holding her spread eagled and immobile, she is immediately aware of things, weights clamped to her labia and nipples. As soon as her eyes flutter open, a leather-riding crop leaves a red welt across her belly.

She screams with the pain of the first two blows before she gains control of herself.

“Do your worst, I’ll never tell you anything.” She says through gritted teeth as she resists the need to cry out.

Methodically, Collette tightens the screws holding the weights to her nipples and vaginal lips, although she manages not to scream, she does buck and strain against her bonds.

Smack! The crop hits her between the legs, this time she does cry out. Smack, smack, smack, the crop slices across the screwed metal and the bulging flesh around them. “no, no no, stop, stop,”

“How many have you heard say those same words, did you stop? I don’t care, give me the number for the safe, or when I finish with you your gash will be nothing but a festering pus filled atrocity, just like your thoughts ... now ... NUMBER.”

The man that loves her has to be restrained again as he repeatedly tries to run past the team members when the screams start. James is the only one that seems to be enjoying the noises, Double Ess, speaking quietly, I’d kick that cunt in the cods, but I don’t want to get paint on me boots,” he looks to Michael, “you’re as bad as your bleedin’ sister, she was always spoilin’ my fun.”

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