Tanya was wealthy, spoilt and a bitch but three anonymous figures are about to take her in hand.
By any standards, Lady Tanya Whitby-Wainscott was a bitch. Her family had been wealthy beyond imagination since 1674 so there was never any risk of Tanya ever having to earn a living or make any contribution at all to anything. Just being born rich is not a crime but Tanya used people; she knew that her slim, teenaged body and unblemished face could bring any red blooded male under her spell so she saw no reason to bother with manners or consideration. She would fawn over some young hopeful and, when he had provided her with a good time or good booze or little packets of white powder, she would laugh in his face in front of her whole company of hangers on.
Tanya’s eighteenth birthday celebrations went on for about a week. Of course there was the huge family event at Wainscott Towers but Lord Wainscott was never going to invite his daughter’s more dubious chums to that so there were days and nights of roistering around London’s West End. On the final night, they were all in Stringfellows Night Club and Tanya had consumed sufficient alcohol to power the engines of a warship. She barely knew who was present, it was just a sea of admiring faces where all the females were beautiful and all the boys looked like Hollywood heartthrobs. So, it is not at all surprising that she had no memory of how the night ended or how she left the club.
She awoke feeling worse than she had ever felt before. Her head was pounding and she felt nauseous. She slowly realized that she was lying on a grey woolen blanket on a hard concrete floor. Forcing her mind to focus, she looked around (which hurt) to find that she was in a small windowless room with bare, old red brick walls. A rectangular mark on one wall hinted at something which had once been fixed there. She was barefoot and wearing just her pale peach satin camisole and matching French knickers and black hold up stockings. Tanya normally wore a bra but, this evening, she had decided to be liberated knowing that her strong young pectoral muscles gave all the support needed.
Now she found that terror was beginning to surface. Where was her cocktail dress? Why was she not wearing it? Where was she and what the hell was going on? A small item on the floor nearby turned out to be a tin tray bearing a bottle of water and a packet of dry crackers. There were also two white pills beside a piece of card torn from a paracetamol packet – presumably someone wanted her to know what the pills were?
The water bottle was sealed straight from the shop and she opened it and gratefully drank from it. Then she used more of the water to sink the pills. Now that she was sitting up and she had managed to focus her eyes she took in the industrial type light fitting on the ceiling; power came from a black cable which snaked across the ceiling and then disappeared upwards through a small hole. No windows? Power from above? Was she in a cellar? Somehow the fear level had risen. Her prison was perhaps about ten feet square and she opened the crackers and nibbled on one of them. In one corner of her prison stood a plastic bucket which raised even more fear at the thought that someone expected her to here for some time.
Tanya wanted to know who had brought her here but somehow shouting did not seem a good idea – someone might come and that might not be good. There were no stairs leading upwards but there was a blank, grey steel door without a handle in one of the walls near to a corner.
Whoever had brought her here had stolen her all her jewelry including her very valuable gold watch so she had no way of knowing how much time passed but it was more than sufficient for her to nibble two or three more crackers and for her hangover to recede to a more bearable level.
The noise from the other side of the door echoed all around the chamber. It was the unmistakable sound of iron bolts being pulled back – presumably one at the top and one at the bottom of the door which opened to reveal a sight which almost stopped Tanya’s heart.
There were three of them all dressed identically in black boiler suits and black balaclavas. They all wore what looked like the sort of thin white rubber gloves sometimes worn by nurses or carers. Tanya’s life to this point had not in any way been sheltered but she liked her fun to be on her own terms and she feared that all her very worst nightmares could be about to come to fruition.
The figures formed a rough triangle around her so that she was surrounded and could not possibly keep an eye on all three at once. Despite her terror, she found her voice.
“Whatever you want, my father will pay.”
This had always been her default approach to any problem and she was desperately trying to believe that her plight was a simple matter of ransom. The alternative was just too horrible.
They only looked down at her (by now she was sitting up on her blanket) for a very short time before advancing on her. One of them grabbed her from behind by putting his arms under hers and yanking her upwards while also pulling her arms behind her. The second one grabbed her knickers and simply dragged them down, lifting her flailing feet so that he could remove the garment completely. She was now in “Wildcat Mode” twisting against the powerful arms behind her, kicking out and screaming like a banshee. None of the men in black made a sound as the one who had taken her modesty took a firm grip on her camisole and ripped it down the front. It took just seconds to reduce the expensive lingerie to ribbons and leave her totally exposed. He also pulled the top of each stocking away from her flesh and snipped the tops so that they no longer held up; the sheer material clung to her legs so that the garments only fell to just above her knee.
She had already lost track of which man was which apart from the one who was still holding her arms behind her and showing no sign at all of loosening his grip but one of the other two now stood immediately in front of her and slowly withdrew a huge pair of sewing shears from a pocket. She was terrorized down to a whimper knowing that such a weapon could do her irreparable harm. Her head was shaking from side to side but his free hand darted out like a snake and took a firm grip on a hank of her hair, painfully wrenching on her scalp. In one smooth move, he had applied the open shears between his hand and her head and hair fell to the floor.
Despite her best efforts at fighting, this process was swiftly repeated and she felt cold air on her head as she looked down and saw great clumps of her hair around her bare feet. One of the men gave a slight nod and the man behind her forced her face down onto the concrete floor and left her there before all three made a swift retreat leaving her in a weeping heap without even the energy to pull herself back onto the blanket for some minutes. She was vaguely aware of the bolts crashing home.
The captive Tanya spent most of her time wrapped in her blanket and rolled into ball. She had drifted into a world where time had no meaning. Occasionally she would eat one of the crackers although she was not really hungry. By now the water was all gone and she was beginning to feel thirsty. In her lucid moments, she tried to imagine her captors contacting her father for ransom and actions being taken to deliver the money and secure her release. The men had been beastly to her and stripped her of all modesty but they had not actually touched her sexually so ransom had to be their motive didn’t it? She was thinking of her captors as men but the boiler suits were very loose fitting and might have concealed a female form. The big one was definitely male but it would be impossible to be certain about the other two.
It is a measure of Tanya’s exhaustion that she barely moved when she heard them once again make a noisy entrance. They almost certainly took pleasure in smashing the bolts back as hard as possible before they opened the door. She was still rolled up in her blanket when she saw their feet moving around her and, looking up, she beheld the black, wooden pole which one of them was brandishing. It was about three feet long and she tried to roll into an even smaller ball to protect herself against the hail of blows which she was certain would now commence.
But the blows did not come. Gloved hands reached down, forced her onto her belly and removed the blanket. It would have been better if they had shouted orders at her but they never spoke one word. The fact that they could just move her into any position they chose had a dehumanizing effect on her – she was an inanimate object and they could do whatever they liked to her.
Her wrists were dragged behind her back and wide, grey duct tape was used to bind her wrists, hands and part way up to her elbows. Rolling onto her side and then her back, they wrapped the tape around her waist so that her taped hands were secured against her spine with her elbows sticking out to the side.
Then they began on her ankles. Tape was wound around one ankle and the foot and then around one end of the wooden pole. When this was repeated with the other ankle, she was obliged to lay on her back with her feet held apart to the length of the bar. But they still were not finished. For the first time, one of them began to handle her pussy causing her to protest loudly and squirm against her bonds; a slap landed on her cheek and she stopped shouting. The rubber coated fingers were pulling back one of her labia and applying tape which was then drawn back and secured to her inner thigh. She was unable to keep her hips from moving; any girl would automatically resist such an intimate offence but he simply continued about his work on the other labia. She was now on her back laying over her arms which forced her hips upwards displaying to the full her gaping wide pussy.
They took the opportunity of a little mild abuse. Her face and breasts were slapped, stroked and groped and then they left her with the crash of the bolts echoing around her prison.
She was on the cold concrete floor and unable to reach the blanket which lay in a heap a few feet from her but completely out of reach as she was unable to move her position. The cold air on the delicate flesh of her inner vagina was extremely unpleasant and the slightest twitch of her legs dragged on the duct tape in a most uncomfortable manner. Even a nun’s pussy is not supposed to be completely dry inside and exposure to the air was causing the moisture to evaporate leading to the inevitable itching about which the helpless young woman had no chance of doing anything at all.
Tanya’s Uncle Sebastian lived in Mayfair and he was roused from slumber by the trilling of his bedside telephone at around 2am. When he pressed the instrument to his ear he heard a harsh whisper.
“You need to open the back door into the mews. You might want to stay tucked up in bed but you REALLY need to open that door now.”
Was this a robbery? Would armed men rush in through the open door? Sebastian put on his slippers and dressing gown and made his way downstairs where he viewed the camera feed which showed the empty mews and an indistinct shape lying on the doorstep. The shape did not appear large enough to be a robber so he cautiously opened the door on the chain.
What he beheld caused him to immediately open the door and step outside. It was a young woman wrapped in a blanket from neck to knee. The blanket was tied at top, center and bottom with cheap string. Her legs, feet and shoulders were naked and her short hair was ragged as if it had been styled by a lawnmower. She was quietly weeping and her face was streaked by the remains of mascara giving her the appearance of some macabre clown. That was when he recognized Tanya.
Nobody in the family knew that Tanya had been missing because she had her own flat in Chelsea and she lived her own life which did not always involve sleeping in her own bed. The horrified man pulled her into his hallway and shouted for his wife.
The gentle reader will be able to imagine how the naked girl was freed from her blanket and placed at first into Sebastian’s dressing gown to be helped into the drawing room and given a hot drink. Aunt Adeline dealt with most of the initial care while Sebastian made a telephone call to Lord Wainscott who said that he would be there as fast as his Jaguar would carry him.
Lord Wainscott did not want to see tabloid headlines about heiress in, “Sex kidnap drama” so there was never a report to the police and no formal investigation. Cameras in the mews showed a dark colored van which was unloaded by two black clad figures before speeding away. The number plates were covered by what was probably mud.
Lady Tanya moved back into Wainscott Towers where she was lovingly nursed and out of reach of cocaine or wild young men. She rides her horse on the estate, goes for long walks and reads novels. Healing is taking place but The Bitch will hopefully never reappear. Tanya had been on a destructive path and was accelerating towards a dark and perhaps short future so it may be that good will come out of her ordeal.
None of Tanya’s stolen jewelry was ever recovered. It would almost certainly have held fingerprints or DNA so the kidnappers would have to be stupid to risk selling it. Actually it was placed in a small bag and cast into the River Thames but if you think I am going to tell you how I know that, you will be disappointed.