‘Millionairess, Mrs Joan Bartlett, 34, will be in town next Friday to open the new Children’s Hospice at Hamlet Grove. Staff will be…’ the newspaper article continued to describe how Mrs Joan Bartlett had been a key fundraiser for the new Hospice and all of the effort she has put into helping to raise the £2.1m needed to complete the project.
“Hmm,” Tony read on, “this could be the opportunity we’ve been waiting for.” He lifted the receiver and called Jack.
Joan, escorted by her younger sister Jude, was applauded as she cut the red ribbon, formally opening the Children’s Hospice. The ceremony and newspaper interviews over, they drove through the busy city centre, headed for Joan’s health club where she was meeting her friend, Debbie. They stopped off at a café and bought themselves a couple of cold cokes. The sun was hot, and although the climate control in Joan’s Mercedes-Benz SLK500 kept the occupants cool, it didn’t stop them from getting thirsty in the summer’s dry air.
As they headed back to the Mercedes, Joan felt a slight push from behind, then blackness. Someone had grasped hold of her and placed a black pillowcase over her head. She was lifted off her feet and tossed into the back of a van.
A hand covered Jude’s eyes and a voice whispered in her ear, “Quiet bitch, or I’ll snap your neck like a twig.” Jude resisted, a sharp pain on the back of her neck caused her to stop in her tracks. She felt giddy, then, her knees gave way and she passed out. Tossed into the van, Jude landed on top of Joan unconscious. Joan screamed but no one heard her call out as the van drove away and blended into the city traffic.
Joan felt a sting in her upper arm, then moments later she too was unconscious.
Jude opened her eyes. She was lying on a mattress in what she could make out to be a basement. The damp walls were covered in very old, peeling woodchip wallpaper, the floor was cold concrete and light came from a 40W lamp that hung from a cobwebbed cord. In a corner, there was a chemical toilet and a bowl with a hand-towel and soap. Next to this was a 10-gallon plastic container that looked like it was full of water. Jude rolled over and sat upright. Joan was asleep on a second mattress. Jude began to sob. She crawled over to her sister, her neck hurting now as she began to remember what had happened in the car park. Joan’s slow, shallow breaths comforted Jude; she brushed her sister’s brunette hair from her face. Joan’s makeup was smudged, but she was still the beautiful one.
Joan had won several beauty contests in her late teens and early twenties; that’s how she met her millionaire husband, Jonathon, a ‘Captain of Industry’ as Joan described him to Jude and their parents the first time they met. Jude had felt that her sister had married for the money. Jonathon was in his mid-fifties, balding and overweight.
Jude, on the other hand, was almost totally opposite to her sister. Jude had married for love. David was an American aid worker who had come to the UK for a holiday after three months of poverty and diseased stricken work in the depths of the Congo. He had no money, but he had an abundance of love for his fellow man and his sense of humour matched that of Jude’s perfectly. A mutual friend, who could see the match was made in heaven, introduced them to each other. Three month’s later Miss Jude Davies became Mrs Jude Heskins. But sadly, it all ended too soon. David was killed the same day as her parents two weeks after their wedding. Whilst out with friends, a motorist drunk at the wheel, lost control of his car hitting David’s MPV, killing David instantly. Jude’s parents died hours later from their injuries when they collided with a wall. The police thought that the couple had lost control after hearing the news of their son-in-law’s death. That was five years ago now, but it was still hard for Jude at night, when she remembered her short coupling with David.
Joan and Jonathon had taken Jude into their home after the funerals and made sure Jude was made comfortable. Jonathon even gave Jude a monthly allowance so that she could come and go as she pleased without worrying about money. Joan felt the losses too, but she had Jonathon to lean on.
Joan began to come around. “Shh, shh, you’re okay, your okay,” whispered Jude to her sister as she began to shake. The effect of the drug was wearing off and it left Joan with a stinking headache. She instantly remembered the incident in the car park and began to tremble and cry.
“It’s okay Joan, calm down,” Jude comforted her sister. “We’ll be alright.” They held onto each other for comfort.
They could hear footsteps. A key turned in the lock and the door burst open. Standing in the doorway was a man dressed in a black overcoat, wearing a skiing balaclava to hide his face from his captives.
“Ah, so my girls are awake. Good. Now we can get down to business,” he said. He brought two chairs into the room from the corridor and placed them, back to back in the centre of the basement. “Sit,” he ordered.
Shaking with fear, the girls obeyed. He then produced two blindfolds and wrapped them around the girl’s heads. This allowed him to remove his balaclava. “Are you comfortable?” he asked. The girls nodded a yes. “Good. Do not be afraid, I will not hurt you. I suppose you are wondering where you are and why,” he continued. “Let me just say, this will all soon be over. You will be free to leave, and I will be a million pounds richer.”
‘So,’ Joan thought, ‘we are held for ransom.’
“If you give me any trouble, you will pay, one way or another,” he told the girls as he circled them. He could see Joan’s breasts from this angle. Her blouse had unbuttoned itself in the struggle; she was braless. He admired her nipples for a moment, remembering she was once a beauty queen not so very long ago.
“So, just do as I tell you and you will be fine. Are you hungry?”
The girls shook their heads, no.
“There is water in the corner to drink, some soap and a toilet. I will check on you from time to time,” he informed, “so, if you need anything, ask and you might get.”
Now, he looked at Jude’s lips. He felt the strangest desire to kiss the girl, to take hold of her breast and suckle her nipples. ‘Was her breasts like her sisters?’ he wondered. ‘Perhaps I will find out if she misbehaves,” he told himself.
He placed the balaclava back over his head, untied the girl’s blindfolds and left the basement, slamming and locking the door behind him.
“Don’t worry, Jonathon will sort this out,” Joan told Jude. They hugged and tears ran down their cheeks. Moments later, the 40W lamp pinged and they were surrounded by total blackness.
Jonathon Bartlett called his wife’s mobile telephone, no answer. He began to worry. It was late, past midnight, and she was due home five hours ago. He called Joan’s friends, asking the same question, “Have you seen Joan this evening?” each answer a negative.
A slap came from the hallway. Thinking it was Joan trying to close the door without disturbing her husband, he stormed into the marbled hallway.
On the doormat lay a manila envelope, the name ‘Bartlett’ made up of letters cut from newspapers. His blood chilled as he opened the envelope. Inside, an A4 sheet of paper demanded £1,000,000 for the safe return of Mrs Bartlett and for no extra charge, Mrs Heskins would also be returned provided there was no trouble. Jonathon jumped as his telephone rang in the study. Rushing through, he picked up the receiver, “Hello?”
“Tomorrow, you will receive further instructions. Do not call the police, do not tell anyone, do not go into the office,” the phone-line hummed as the receiver at the far end hung up.
Jonathon’s evening was disturbed once more when the police called to say Joan’s car was found, unlocked, in a shopping mall. Jonathon made excuses that the officer accepted and hung up.
Joan and Jude sat up. The light pinged on and a key rattled in the door’s lock. They had no idea of how long they had been locked up. They didn’t even know if they had drifted in and out of sleep. In the total darkness, there was no difference between eyes open and eyes closed.
The light hurt, and they both squinted. A voice ordered, “Place these over your eyes and sit on the chairs.” Two blindfolds were tossed onto the mattress. Doing as they were told, the girls sat back to back and placed the blindfolds over their eyes. “Good. Now listen carefully. Every time you hear a key in the door, you must put the blindfolds on. Do you understand?” the girls nodded. “Good. Are you hungry?”
The girls realised then that they hadn’t eaten for some time. They felt hunger awaken, as the smell of toast wafted into the room. A second voice said, “Here’s some toast and cereal, I will be back in fifteen minutes to collect the tray,” said the second voice.
The door closed and the key turned. Hearing muffled voices in the corridor, they removed the blindfolds. They ate their breakfast in silence. Fifteen minutes later, the second voice arrived to take away the breakfast tray. It was then he managed to see Joan’s ample breasts press against her blouse. She was buttoned up and agreed with Jack, she was something else. ‘Her sister isn’t bad either,’ he thought to himself as he slammed and locked the door.
Two minutes later, the 40W lamp extinguished, placing the girls in blackness.
They didn’t know how long they had been there, but it must have been at least a day. They were just about all talked out and they were beginning to drift off to sleep again.
“One million, used notes, four bags,” the voice on the phone instructed Jonathon how the payment was to be made.
“How do I know the girls are alright?” Jonathon asked.
“You don’t, you just have to trust me. Just like I trust you don’t call the police,” the voice said.
Jonathon’s heart sunk as the line went dead. He didn’t know where to turn. Getting the money would take two days, but that wouldn’t be a problem, it was just that he had to wait another two agonising days before finding out if his beloved wife and sister-in-law were safe.
Joan fumbled in the dark trying to find the chemical toilet. She fell, bumping her head against the wall. At that moment, the key rattled in the door and the light came on. The man stood in his balaclava at the door. Jude, on the mattress, sat upright, her blindfold covering her eyes. Joan’s blindfold lay next to Jude. She suddenly realised she was not wearing her blindfold.
“Get up!” he balled at Joan.
Petrified, Joan stood, supporting herself with the wall. She sat next to her sister and placed the blindfold on her head.
“You will pay for this,” the man ranted. Taking hold of Joan’s blouse, he ripped it open, buttons flying through the air. Her breasts jiggled free as the material ripped at the seams. The man roughly tore the garment off Joan’s back. He pinched her nipples hard making Joan scream. Jude jumped, not knowing what was happening, she too screamed. The man slapped Jude telling her to shut up. He admired Joan’s firm breasts for a moment, then left the room. Seconds later the light was out.
“What happened?” Jude asked her sister.
“I didn’t have my blindfold on. That bastard ripped my blouse off me then pinched my nipples.” Joan sobbed, her head on her sister’s shoulder.
Time dragged on. They had no idea of what part of the day it might be; their watches had been taken away when they were first brought to the basement. By now they had been fed with three sets of toast and cereal. There was no sound from outside of the basement, if indeed this was a basement. The girls drifted in and out of sleep.
The light came on again as the key rattled in the lock. Joan made sure her blindfold was secure this time. She heard the two men enter the room.
“Hmm, she has got nice tits,” commented one. Joan could hear a muffled rattle, then two clicks. She recognised the clicks as a pair of briefcase latches opening. A hand took hold of her arm and lifted her from the mattress and forced her onto a chair. Then, her arms were pulled behind the back of the chair. She felt rope being tied around her wrists and ankles. She was bound to the chair.
“Do not be afraid,” the second voice told her as he touched her breasts, tweaking her nipples to erection. Joan felt coldness as the second man dabbed her nipples with what felt like a wet cotton bud. Some metallic rattling came from what she thought might be a briefcase, and then a sharp pain as her right nipple pinched hard. Joan let out a scream and jumped in her chair.
“What’s happening?” asked Jude.
The first man slapped Jude’s face and ordered her to be quiet. “Any more from you, and you will know first hand what’s happening.”
Joan felt a sharp pain as her nipple was pierced. She suddenly realised the second man had inserted a nipple ring. Moments later, there was a repeat operation, this time on her left nipple.
“Please don’t do this,” sobbed Joan.
“Shut up bitch,” horsed the second man.
“Please don’t do...”
Slap! Joan’s head snapped to the left as the force of his hand slapped hard on her cheek.
“I told you bitch, shut up.”
Joan fought back the tears. Her nipples began to burn as the pain of the piercing became more prominent.
“That should do it Tony. Shit!” Jack realised he’d told the girls his accomplice’s first name.
“You stupid fuck,” shouted Tony. “Don’t slip up like that again, or I’ll fucking… Oh fuck.”
The briefcase snapped closed and the two men left.
In the darkness, Joan sobbed as Jude untied her sister’s hands and feet. Rubbing her wrists first, Joan thanked her sister.
“What happened?” Jude asked.
“The bastards pierced my nipples,” Joan replied as she gently touched the rings. They were throbbing and stinging. “What do you think they’ll do if I take them out?” she asked her sister.
“No, don’t,” Jude snapped back. “They might do something you’ll regret. At least when we get out of here, you can take them out. The holes will heal up alright.”
Joan’s nipples were damp as fluid extruded from the piercings. After a while, they stopped weeping and a light crust formed. They were less painful now and Joan slowly drifted into another slumber.
The light came on again. How long had they been asleep? They didn’t know. Another tray of breakfast cereal and toast was placed on the floor. The man replaced the water with fresh and emptied the chemical toilet, cursing ‘the dirty bitches’ as he left the room.
The light stayed on. Expecting the key to rattle in the door, the girls were afraid to remove their blindfolds.
Time passed, “Perhaps he forgot to switch it off,” Jude whispered. Joan agreed and they removed their blindfolds. The toast was cold and the milk on the cereal was relatively warm. Jude hated warm milk, but she gulped the contents of the bowl without thinking too much about it now.
This was the first time they were able to study their prison cell. The woodchip wallpaper must have been decades old. Mould had formed and caused some of the paper to come away from the wall. There were no windows, not even boarded up frames. Stains on the floor showed where a workbench had been many moons ago; when a normal, healthy family might have inhabited the house. Against the wall next to the door, was a large wooden frame. The girls took a closer look. It was a foldaway table with leather straps and other contraptions they didn’t understand the use of. They looked at each other, eyes wide, and ran back to the mattress.
Joan’s blindfold fell from her hand as she dropped onto the mattress. At this point, the key rattled in the lock. Jude quickly pulled down her blindfold, Joan, reached for hers, but it wasn’t there.
“Shit!” she exclaimed, “I’ve lost my blindfold.”
“Oh no,” whispered Jude.
The door swung open. The two men entered, marching straight for Joan.
“So bitch, looks like you learn real quick,” the taller of the two belched. “Get the case,” he commanded.
Jack ran from the room as Tony lifted Joan from her mattress. He bound her hands behind her back, and then picking up her blindfold from the side of her mattress, he covered her eyes. Joan began to shake with fear.
“You will pay big time bitch,” growled the voice.
She felt his hands undo her skirt and tear the material from her waist. Her panties were next. Joan stood naked in front of her captor. Yes, she shook with fear, and she was petrified, but she also felt an excitement she hadn’t felt since her first sexual encounter on her sixteenth birthday, when John Stephens, the biggest boy in her class, forced himself on her. After the initial pain as she felt John’s hard cock inside her, bursting through her hymen, she began to enjoy his fucking her. She had a strange sensation erupt inside her as John’s cock ejaculated inside. She had lost her virginity, almost raped by the class bully, and she wanted more.
Now, Joan began to think about what they would do to her. Jack came running into the room, slightly out of breath.
Click, click. The case opened and the sound of small metallic instruments was heard. Expecting an immediate reaction, she suddenly heard the sound of scraping behind her. The two men were dragging the wooden contraption into the middle of the room. Moments later, Joan was forced, on her back, onto the wooden board. Leather straps were wrapped and fastened around her wrists and legs, then another pair of straps at her knees forced her legs apart.
Coldness again. Joan felt the dabbing of spirit on her belly button. She realised they were going to pierce her belly button. She felt the needle force its way through the skin, followed by the ring. This time, the pain was not as intense as that inflicted on her nipples… how long ago?
‘Why am I still strapped on this thing?’ she asked herself. The answer came almost immediately. She felt a hand on her vagina, tugging at her labia. Then, a finger was brutally inserted into her depths. She was dry and the penetration was painful. Joan whimpered.
“Leave her alone, you bastards,” Jude shouted at a wall. Tony slapped her face again as she recoiled onto her back on the mattress.
Jack took hold of her clitoris. ‘It was a large bud considering the bitch wasn’t even turned on yet,’ he thought. Taking a needle, he pierced the hood and followed through with a ring. He stood back to admire his handiwork. The nipples had not inflamed, her belly was a little red and her clitoris had a little blood leakage from the piercing. ‘That will soon stop,’ he thought. Taking a small aerosol can from his case, he sprayed a little antiseptic onto her piercings; Joan flinched at the unexpected coldness.
He turned to see Jude sobbing on the mattress. “What about her?” Jack asked Tony.
“What about her?” Tony replied.
“How about we give her something to remember us by?” he suggested to his accomplice.
Jack shook his head, “She’s a bad girl, but ain’t deserving that yet.” He turned back to his patient and placed a finger into her vagina once more. She was a little damp now, but not that he would notice.
Joan felt his fingers again. Not so painful this time. She wanted to scream but thought better not to.
The two men left the room, this time the light was switched off as soon as the door slammed closed. Jude crawled to her sister and helped her out of her bindings and off the table.
“What did he do to you?” Jude asked.
“I’ve got four piercings now,” she stammered. “They put one in my belly button and one on my clit-hood.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Yes but not as much as the nipples did though,” Joan told her sister. She began to giggle.
“What’s so bloody funny?” demanded Jude.
“If we weren’t having the occasional slapping, I’d say this could have been an elaborate set-up of Jonathon’s. We’ve fantasised about me having piercings, being kidnapped and raped; even him watching me fuck other men.”