BDSM Library - Kidnapped

Kidnapped

Provided By: BDSM Library
www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: English Housewives kidnapped by foreign terrorists.
Revised

				 Kidnapped - Part 1


	It was a normal, quiet suburban street in Kent, the Garden of England,
and a normal, quiet suburban house. Inside, four housewives, "English Roses",
good looking and ranging in age from between mid-twenties to mid-thirties were
chatting whilst their husbands discovered some cans of lager in the fridge in
the garage.

	Rose went to answer the door and came back a few moments later, ashen,
her hands clasped behind her blonde head, followed into the room by a Negress
with a gun.

	Linda, Ellen and Laura gasped in horror as the black girl pushed Rose
stumbling beside them and brandished the gun at all three. "What..?" began Linda
and Laura.

	"Shut up c--ts", hissed the Negress, all of you stand up, hands on head,
quickly."

	Rose's mouth was dry, her stomach a dark pit of churning fear as all
four terrified women stood trembling as ordered before the intruder.

	Another Negress and an Arab youth came into the room also carrying guns.

	"Names...give me your names quickly," snapped the Arab to the women,
jabbing Rose with the butt of his gun.

	"Rose", said the trembling captive through dry mouth.

	"Full names, all of you," said the Arab impatiently.

	"Rosemary, Pierce",

	"L.. Linda Western,"

	"Ellen Hughes",

	"Laura West"

	Rose had difficulty finding her voice and all four could only whisper.

	"OK where are your husbands?" snarled a Negress.

	"In.. in the garage," responded Rose.

	"Right you", said the Negress grabbing one of Rose's raised arms come
with me to the back door and call them in here."  Concealed behind the open door
she pressed her gun into her waist, "Tell them to come in for a moment, and make
it convincing or else."

	"G-guys, Dean, Patrick, Martin", she managed in a weak voice, "can you
come in a minute please."

	When she heard a response from the men the Negress grabbed Rose's elbow
and took her back into the lounge.  Rose's eyes opened wider in alarm as she saw
that her friends had by then been made to remove their skirts, blouses, jeans
etc and were standing rigid, hands on head, legs splayed before the grinning
Arab and other Negress. She felt weak with fear

	"Your friend's a tart, look at it, red underwear, what a slut," said the
Negress prodding Linda who blushed crimson, "We'll search you too", their captor
snarled to Rose, "get your hands up again."  Feeling sick Rose raised her hands
to allow the Negress to run her hands over her breasts, down to her hips then
the rough black hands tugged her tracksuit bottoms down to her knees exposing
her pale pants. The woman's hands slid over Rose's buttocks, patting them,
grinning.

	 "Get the f___ing tracksuit off, hands on your head and spread the
legs."

	With shaking fingers she pulled it off aware of the red slap mark on
Linda's face where, presumably, her friend had protested at the indignity. Now
the Negress and Arab were running their hands freely over her friend's exposed
bodies clad only in revealing bra and pants.  Rose hesitated, hands covering her
breasts as the Negress searched her tracksuit then she received a teeth rattling
slap round the face from the Negress.

	"Hands on your f___ing head, spread the legs, now."   

	Rose could never recall ever feeling as vulnerable as when she stood in
her underwear in her own lounge, with the vicious looking Negress touching her
shivering body.

	Dean, Patrick and Martin were shocked at the scene greeting them. The
four beautiful women, Laura, Linda, Rose and Ellen stood in just their bra and
pants, hands on heads legs wide before the armed intruders.  Before they could
collect their thoughts a gun was jabbed into their backs and a fourth member of
the gang, a Negro, pushed them into the room.

	"You bastards, don't even think about resisting, get your f___ing hands
on your heads."

	"What do you w..?"

	Whack, Dean was doubled up with a fist in his stomach as Pete and Martin
hesitantly raised their hands trying to make sense of the situation.

	"Give me your names, quickly," snapped the Arab to the three men.

	After providing their names the Negro told the men also to strip. "Now!"
he emphasised waving his gun at all the captives. 

	With fumbling fingers Martin pulled off his tee shirt, the Negro
snatched it and after quickly checking it dropped it on the floor. Martin's
jeans came next and as he stood in underpants and socks one of the Negresses put
his hands on his head, slapping his buttocks until he had spread his legs to her
satisfaction, whilst the Negro went through his pockets.

	"Just take anything, its yours," said Patrick as he was positioned
whilst his clothes were searched, "Take anything but let us go." A fist crashed
into his face sending him reeling until rough hands hauled him to his previous
hands on heads legs spread posture.  The Negress slapped Linda's face again
silencing her scream at his treatment.

	"Shut it, just do exactly as you're told," said the Arab. "let's see
what we have then."

	He looked at the seven silent captives, each in their underwear, hands
on head, with wide frightened eyes and red faces. "Yes, I think you'll do. Some
of you'll be coming with us."

	"Why, what, take anything," began Dean but a Negress shoved her gun
under his chin and cupped his manhood in a light grasp causing him to wince.  In
low menacing tones she told her fearful audience that they were now prisoners of
the terrorist gang featured in the national news, some members of which were
about to stand trial. 

	Rose felt her knees nearly buckle. It was an effort to stand so
obediently still, vulnerably undressed before such people - yet she knew she had
no choice. She began to sob when the terrorist told them that some of them would
be held in exchange for the safe release of their comrades on trial.  He asked
Rose and Dean the whereabouts of their valuables, which they said were upstairs.

	"Right you," said a Negress grabbing Rose's arm and hissing inches from
her frightened face. " Lead on upstairs and show me the goodies, keep your hands
on your head the whole time and if you even think about trying anything I'll
know, then you and hubby down here will be history." 

	"Please ..." she whimpered not wanting to be separated from her husband
and friends.

	"Now, cow" the woman spat. With a hand on the small of her back she
pushed Rose from the room and slapped her bottom as she ushered her up the
stairs. Rose longed to slap away the demeaning hand fondling her scantily clad
bottom but daren't - just enduring.

	In the lounge the Arab had ordered Ellen, Patrick, Linda and Martin to
spread-eagle against the wall, kicking their legs wider until he was satisfied. 
Then he turned to Dean and Laura.

	"You two, get the rest of those things off. I want you take each other's
things off, hurry."  When they hesitated he grabbed Laura's chin in a powerful
hand. "Strip him, girl...now," he shouted so they both flinched.

	Immediately Laura reached down to Dean's pants, hooking her fingers in
the waistband and pulling them down.  His organ became semi-erect at her touch
as she slid them off his legs.

	"Now get hers off."

	Laura had to stand shamefaced hands on head as Dean's hands fumbled with
the clasp of her bra, finally removing it so her soft breasts spilled out,
nipples hardening.  He looked briefly up at the Arab and their captor merely
nodded, so he slipped his hands into the waistband of Laura's panties.  With a
brief look of apology to her and he pulled them down and off.

	"Hmm," said the Arab appraisingly.  He put his hands on Laura's waist,
then knocked her hands away from her body. "Get 'em back on your head I want to
see it all."

	Laura shook with sobs as the Arab's hands turned her body slowly round,
patting her buttocks, until she once again faced him. "Good, very good," he
muttered.

	"Now, you," he stabbed his fingers at Laura, "we need a gag, stuff your
pants in his mouth, right in." Dean had to open his mouth wide as the still-warm
pants were pushed into his mouth, the Arab then produced some sticky tape to
seal his lips.

	"Now you, get yours into her mouth." Laura had to take all of Dean's
pants into her mouth and her lips were secured with tape. Both now stood naked,
hands on head, cheeks bulging.  

	In spite of his own predicament Dean couldn't help but be aware of his
friend's wife naked beside him, his organ became semi erect. There was a crash
from upstairs and his eyes flicked upwards wondering what was happening to his
own wife with the Negress.  Leaving the other Negress to watch over the four
spread-eagled captives the Negro came over to Dean and Laura. "Da girl's got
nice tits", he said leering at Laura's breasts and pinching one of her nipples
till she cried out. She had to endure the taunts of the black terrorist, younger
than her and his mauling hands squeezing and mashing her breasts till she cried. 
Her eyes briefly flared with hate and she was about to strike out but catching
the look, the Negress simply twirled his gun and leered at her.

	"Hey, lets swap I wanna see the white boy". The Arab took over guarding
the spread-eagled captives and the Negress strolled over to Dean.  She giggled,
"Not much there!  "Grabbing his organ she pulled it and held his testicles
forcing Dean to step towards her placing a restraining hand on her wrist. "Don't
you dare touch me. Get the hand back on your head or I'll pull this pathetic
little thing off." Gingerly Dean replaced his hands on his head.

	"That's better whitey." Dean felt her cool hand stroking and pulling his
manhood then reaching round to pinch and grasp his buttocks.  

	Upstairs the Negress had made Rose spread-eagle on the bed face down
like a starfish. She longed to close her obscenely spread legs but that wasn't
an option.  her captor has positioned her thus, with hands on her head and she
remained in that position.

	As she lay there helpless telling the woman where their money was kept
she heard the crashing as drawers etc were pulled onto the floor.  Whenever she
couldn't give immediate answers on the whereabouts of things the brutal woman's
hard hand smacked down onto her buttocks making the bed rock as if she was a
little child.

	"Aaghhh," the pain was as unexpected as it was stinging and humiliating. 
She hadn't been smacked like that since she was a child.  But now she guessed
that, although in her mid twenties, and exceedingly poised and beautiful  she
was little better than a helpless child in the hands of these monsters. Tears
smarted from her eyes after the last such slap.  "Pleeeease, I'm trying to
think," she sobbed before gasping out another possible location for money. 

	Downstairs, Dean and Laura had been ordered to face each other and press
their naked bodies together.  Dean tried to avoid meeting Laura's brown eyes, as
he could not control his organ, which grew erect and swelled between her soft
thighs, feeling her breasts against him.  Their arms were bound around each
other except one wrist left free over each other's buttocks.

	They were then told to insert a finger deep into each other's rectums.
Both, unable to speak, looked at the Arab with wide eyes.  His broad hand
slapped down hard on Laura's bare buttocks. "Stick them right up your arses,
now, I want to see you wriggle."

	Laura felt Dean's finger probing her anus, she shifted uncomfortably,
and lifting onto her toes as the intruding digit pushed up, filling her. "You
too," snapped the Arab to Laura and she in turn felt between Dean's buttocks to
the heat of his anal bud and pushed in with her finger.  When he was satisfied
that they had both fully obeyed he taped their hands in that position making it
impossible to withdraw their fingers without a struggle.

	Upstairs Rose still lay spread-eagled on the bed in her bra and pants. 
The Negress, having tipped most of the contents of their bedroom onto the floor,
picked up her victim's dressing gown from the heap on the floor, running her
hands over the silky material.

	"Hmm, it feels good, I bet you do too.  I want to see this on you. Get
up, up girl let me get your undies off girl. " Rose pushed herself to her feet.

	"Turn around girl, hands on head."

	Rose cringed, stifling a plea which she knew would fall on deaf ears or
be scorned.  She turned her back to the Negress, shuddering as the black hands
so possessively fumbled with the clasp of her bra, then slid it off her creamy
white shoulders and down her arms, her hands briefly returning to cup her bare
breasts.

	"Ah," Rose jumped in shock and distaste as her bare boobs were groped,
but she managed to remain in position.  She shuddered in dread as the hands slid
down her hips to the waistband of her pants and tug them down.  The Negress bent
down to slide them off her legs, then dropped her discarded knickers. 

	Closing her eyes in fearful disgust Rose felt the hands sliding up her
bare legs.  She shuddered as they pushed up into her crutch then nearly heaved
as she felt the dark hard body pressing from behind into her buttocks and the
black hands cupping and squeezing her bare breasts.  The strong fingers tweaking
her nipples made her yelp, then the broad lips descended on her neck

	"Mmm, juicy, oh you feel so good baby, " she whispered, her hands
sliding round to pat the pert curves of her bottom, then she moved away and
picked up the dressing gown.

	"Here, put this on." Gratefully Rose stepped into the gown and tied the
sash to cover her nudity.

	With Dean and Laura securely bound the terrorists downstairs turned
their attention back to their other captives leaning against the wall.  They
Ordered Ellen to press herself tight against Patrick's back as he remained
spread-eagled against the wall and to wrap her arms across and grip his chest.
Then Linda was similarly made to press herself against Ellen's back and hold her
breasts. Finally, Martin had to press himself against Linda and hold her boobs.

	"I don't want to see any daylight between you four, push tight together,
tight," screamed the Arab.

	The strain on Patrick's arms was considerable and he gasped as he took
the weight of the other three pushing forward.  Martin although frightened
couldn't help but relish the feel of Linda's buttocks through the thin material
of her pants against his groin and her breasts in his hands.  Linda held Ellen
tight, it felt strange gripping another woman's breasts like that, then also the
unfamiliar feel of Martin's hands holding her bra covered breasts and his
excitement evident by bulging pants protruding against her bottom.  Ellen
gripped the unfamiliar chest of her friend's husband, conscious of her breasts
pushing into his back.

	The Negro grinned at the sight of the four captives pushing themselves
together, then the Negress returned with Rose, in her dressing gown, hands on
head. His accomplice had also brought down some tee shirts and coats from the
bedroom.

	"Ready for bed huh?" said the Arab patting Rose's bottom again with such
possession, "Not yet though, you and your friends are coming with us. You lot
working yourselves off against the wall", said the Arab to Linda, Patrick, Ellen
and Martin, "get the underwear off, all jewellery and watches you won't need
that, and each of you put a tee-shirt on.  Now, hurry," he snapped when they
hesitated.

	A Negress clicked away at them with an instant camera as, reluctantly,
Patrick, Ellen, Linda and Martin shamefacedly stripped off their final garments
to stand naked before the terrorists then each pulled on a tee shirt.  The
garments were tiny and Ill-fitting but at least covering their upper halves. 
Quickly, efficiently the terrorists then secured their captives, wrists twisted
up between their shoulder blades and cuffed, gagged, eyes taped shut and
sunglasses put on to cover it. 

	Rose closed her eyes, her face burning with shame as the Negress pulled
her dressing gown off, divesting her too of her watch and rings, the camera
still clicking, securing her in a similar fashion before pulling the gown back
on, empty sleeves flapping, then gagging and blindfolding her too.  She felt so
vulnerably helpless.

	Dean and Laura had, meanwhile been looking on from their position, bound
together naked and gagged at the other end of the room; a Negress swaggered over
to them.

	"Before I give you the blindfold have a last look at your other halves
and friends before we take them away. "The two looked with wide eyes at the four
bound, blind and gagged figures in their ill-fitting short tee shirts, bare
legs. The dressing gown was only loosely fastened on Rose and most of her nudity
was on show and the discarded clothing on the floor. "Pretty vulnerable aren't
they," gloated the woman as the Arab draped an arm casually around the bound
figure of Rose, cupping a breast. " We'll leave you some of the photos we took,
as a reminder, and send some to the Government to get the release of our
brothers.  Now, on with the blindfolds. One of us will wait here for an hour,
and if you try to move you'll be for it.  Just stand nice and still, we don't
even want to see you breath.  After an hour, not a minute less, you can let
yourselves go."

	Dean tried to say through the gag of his need to go toilet but it came
out as meaningless grunts, then his, and Laura's world was plunged into
darkness.

	The terrorists bundled their bound captives away and hustled them
outside into their van.

	Laura and Dean heard the movements, then silence.  After a few minutes
Dean tentatively began to move but suddenly received a swathe of pain across his
buttocks making him grunt.  "No movement at all, I don't want to see you even
f---ing breathe" snapped a harsh voice out of the darkness.

	The Negress smiled to herself in amusement at the sight of the two
motionless, naked figures bound together in the obscene pose, neither daring to
move a muscle. Pressed together, fingers into each other, silent and still,
ridiculous. She switched on a radio then quietly crept out of the house into the
van and away with the others.

	How much time had passed? Dean and Laura had no way of knowing. They
heard the radio playing.  Dean's need to go toilet became intolerable but he
daren't move and he couldn't hold it back.  Laura flinched as she felt the hot
stream erupt from him, some trickling down her legs to form a puddle on the
carpet. For nearly a further hour they stood locked together, naked and still,
before tentatively struggling out of their bonds.     

	The journey in the terrorist's van was an endless nightmare to the
bound, gagged and blindfold captives.  They were sitting wedged on seats along
the side of the van between the terrorists.  Bouncing along, unable to brace
themselves but they had been ordered to sit with their legs wide apart. 
Although their tee shirts covered their upper halves this provocative pose
displayed them intimately below, but it did help to brace them against the van's
movements. 

	They had to endure the occasional grope from the terrorists, the raucous
comments.  Martin and Patrick each felt soft hands touching and stroking their
manhood, they became unwillingly erect, heard the laughter, unaware that the
terrorists were comparing their sizes.  In Ellen's case it was her nipples, hard
with fear through the tee-shirt, that came in for attention from someone,
stroking, tweaking, then flicking painfully so she made muffled cries through
the gag. 

	Rose knew that the dressing gown had draped open to reveal most of her
upper body even though she was covered below.  One of the bastards kept flicking
cigarette ash onto her bare breasts.  She wanted to die, to be anywhere but a
captive in the hands of these fiends. Linda felt hands on her legs, sliding up,
tickling her pubic hair till she squealed and tried to close her legs, always
though, she was forced to open them wide.

	Finally, it was over.  All of them felt sick, with fear of the unknown,
the smoking in the confined space and the motion of the bumping van.  They were
hauled out, still bound, blindfold and gagged, gravel hurting their bare feet. 
Hustled blindly into a building, tiled floors, cold on their feet.  Voices,
whistles, catcalls, Linda Ellen and Rose cringed at their vulnerability and near
nudity on view to whoever cared to look.

	Then the smell of sweat, wooden floors, a ball bouncing - a gym? 
Screeches of delight, hoots and whoops.  Ellen stumbled as someone's ran past
smacking her bare buttocks below the tee shirt.  Up cold, concrete, stairs
stubbing toes, stumbling then through a door, antiseptic smells combined with
cigarette smoke.  Brought thankfully to a halt the five captives stood still.

	Roughly the sunglasses and tape masking their eyes was pulled off
leaving the captives blinking in a type of dirty doctor's surgery. Before them
at a table sat a fat Greek in a dirty white coat, smoking. He looked up.

	"Welcome ladies and gentlemen to our humble Headquarters, we have been
expecting you.  You will all look at me as I speak please"

	Five pairs of eyes looked him mutely over their gags. He continued,

	" You are prisoners of the Liberation front until our brothers are
released. There is only one rule here.  If you are told to do it, you do it
immediately and without question or you will be disposed of; you must understand
that you mean nothing to us accept bargaining chips and even if just one of you
is left, your stupid Government will cave in.  As you are now prisoners of war
you will be medically examined, documented, photographed and taken to your
detention cells.  The gags and handcuffs will be removed, you will remove those
stupid clothes and lean spread-eagled against that picture window over there
until I call you out one at a time for examination and documentation.  There
will be no questions or talking, just total obedience."

	The Negro and Arab terrorists, who had kidnapped them, removed their
bonds and gags, telling them to take off their tee shirts.  Linda rubbed her
chafed wrists from the bonds, worked her mouth from the confines of the gag. 
She felt frightened; the others were similarly looking around.  Suddenly the
Greek's voice barked out.

	"You were told to strip. Now do it or suffer the consequences." Linda
reluctantly pulled her tee shirt off over her head, seeing Ellen do the same. 
The Negress guard, who had made Rose don the dressing gown in her bedroom,
pulled it off her as she slowly began to slip her arms out of it. " I'm having
that honky," a guard leered at her, to heighten her fear and shame.

	Martin and Patrick were also now naked, feeling shame for themselves but
also protectiveness towards their two nude wives, who like Rose were crimson and
covering themselves with their hands.  Even so, Martin and Patrick couldn't help
but notice and admire the bodies of their wives' friends. Rose hadn't even the
knowledge of her husband being there; she was naked before all unfamiliar eyes.

	"Move you c__ts", screamed the Arab kidnapper, "The Doctor told you to
lean against that window over there until you're called for examination."  He
lashed out, catching Linda's bare buttocks with a hard hand leaving a red mark.

	All five naked captives shuffled over to the floor to ceiling window. To
their horror they saw it looked directly down into the gymnasium and that a
group of young black terrorists were playing basketball down there just a few
feet below them; the window hid nothing of their nudity from those below.  The
captives seemingly took too long to assume their ordered, spread-eagled
positions against the window and the Arab lashed out again, this time catching
Ellen's bare buttocks causing her to scream out.  Meticulously the Arab and a
Negress positioned all five captives till their feet were wide apart, about
three feet from the window, leaning against it with wide apart hands, backs
straight.  They took a delight in touching the bare flesh of their victims, not
missing an opportunity to brush a breast, bottom or crutch, insisting they kept
their backs straight.  The bastards then banged on the window to ensure the
players below saw the naked captives.

	Ellen felt gooseflesh break out over her exposed flesh, closed her eyes
when she saw the figures below clustering around their side of the window,
pointing, yelling and whooping with delight.  The doctor was behind her now and
she shuddered at his touch on the small of her back, lightly tapping her bottom.

	"You first I think my dear.  Stand over by my desk, legs apart, hands on
head.  Go child," he said, lightly tapping her bottom as it wiggled away. Martin
cringed at the thought of the slimy bastard pawing his naked wife.

	"I have some thermometers for the rest of you while you wait against the
wall here.  They are going right up your tight little arses and, for your sakes,
I hope nobody lets theirs drop out. " A humiliation on a humiliation. The eyes
in the gym below looked on in amusement as they saw the Greek stand behind each
captive saw them shudder onto tiptoe and wriggle as the thermometer slid into
each one.  Rose felt the cold bulb of the thermometer, intrude crudely,
unnaturally into her, one of the youths below was in fits of laughter. The Greek
spotted it and pulled Rose away from the wall for a moment.

	"Let them have a quick peek shall we."  He smirked, placing her hands on
her head and slowly turning her round.  Rose, sobbing, heard the laughter from
below as they saw the instrument protruding from between her pink buttocks. 
Then he positioned her back against the glass, a tear trickling down each cheek. 
He tapped Linda's back, "Back straight girl, no slouching."  Then he went to
Ellen by the desk.

	"No looking," the doctor said to the other captives, in a mocking voice.
"This is a medical examination. All those not being examined will look straight
ahead through the window."  Despairingly, Martin fixed his eyes on the glass but
he could not fail to hear the fat slob with his wife.

	"Come my dear, keep your hands there on your head, but stand closer to
me, I want to feel those the tips of those breasts just against me.  That's it
that's good. Eyes, OK, ears, open your mouth, wider, tongue right out. Lets have
those boobs, hmm quite big, hard nipples, guess you're enjoying this, a real man
touching you eh!  Stomach, OK. could be flatter - it soon will be here. Onto the
table with you, on your back, legs wide. No, wider than that, feet flat, really
wide, I need to see every little part, everything you've got.  Good, that's
good, hands back on your head" he breathed, fingers probing. 

	Ellen felt physically sick as the hot moist fingers explored every
orifice thoroughly, then the cold hardness of the thermometer in her rectum as
the slob asked intimate questions about her periods.  The others heard
everything and felt sorry for her and for their own ordeals to come.  Then he
ordered her back on her feet and told her to spread her legs and touch her toes. 
She had to bend up and down a few times so the slob could see her muscle play
and tone.  She felt his hands lightly tapping her buttocks as she bent over each
time.  Finally he patted her bottom, like a grandfather might to his young
granddaughter, as she stood hands on head before him. "That's enough my dear,
I'm finished - you're healthy enough." A Negro came over to her.

	"Right, bitch, come with me to the cubicle over there and I'll take down
your details, keep your f___ing hands on yoh head girl." Ellen followed him to a
tiny cubicle in the corner with a desk, he drew the curtain behind them and
stood facing her, she felt his rough clothing against her nudity. Then he
grabbed her buttock cheeks in his hands and pulled her against him. Ellen
sickeningly felt his hardness pressing against her; he slowly moved his hips in
and out. A sneer on his face, his mouth inches from hers, "Yoh gunna answer muh
questions girl, no shit or I'll f__k yoh arse off." Then he sat down and Ellen
had to reel off details of her age, address, husband's details, job, seemingly
endless, pointless details, but she daren't hesitate in her answers. 

	Meanwhile, the Greek doctor was examining Ellen's husband, Martin. He
made great play of his genitals and the Arab strolled over to where Martin stood
rigidly hands on head and casually flicked his manhood, "Not much there." In
addition to the trauma of standing naked being pulled around by the Greek and
Arab, Martin's eyes kept straying to the tiny screened cubicle across the room
where he knew the Negress had his naked wife, at least he could hear the murmur
of voices.

	Then the Arab strolled over to Rose, spread-eagled at the window.  She
felt him, disgustingly slowly, remove the rectal thermometer, making it feel as
if he was turning her inside out.  She shuddered as he pressed his body against
her soft buttocks, reaching round to mash and maul her breasts.  His face
against her neck, oily voice in her ear. "I'm gonna have you sometime, stick it
right up you, you'll like that." Laughing at her sobs, he replaced the
thermometer between her buttocks, seeing the gooseflesh on her trembling body.

	Minutes later she too was standing before the creepy doctor being
examined.

	"Hmm, juicy," he leered smelling a finger which he had just plucked from
her unwilling sex lips.

 	She could scarcely believe that scant hours earlier she and her friends
were enjoying a carefree evening.  Now she had to stand naked and helpless
before a foreign bastard, bending and stretching before him, exposing herself,
telling him her every intimacy, letting him feel her, letting him do whatever he
wanted, or face unthinkable consequences.

	So the procedure continued like a production line until all had been
processed.  After being questioned about their personal details they had to lay
spread-eagled, face down on the floor by the cubicle.  One of the Negresses
insisting that they keep their noses firmly against the floor and did not turn
their heads.

	Then two small, harsh looking, Oriental girls came in with a camera and
video camera.  They gave Linda a sharp kick on the bottom and took her, as the
first victim, across the room and stood her hands on head in a corner before a
sign bearing the logo of their organisation.  Carefully they instructed her in
the message she must read out into the video, the words of which would be held
up behind the camera.  Then wearing masks an Oriental girl and a Negress stood
either side of their naked victim, arms draped casually around her shoulders. 
The Oriental girl produced a tiny knife, which she ran lightly down Linda's
spine.  She hissed in Linda's ear,

	"Any trouble and..." she jabbed the blade a little causing Linda to
wince. Then they stood beside her, grinning as she said her "lines".

	"P please, my n-name is -LLinda Western. I,, I am a p-p-prisoner of the
L-Liberation Front and will be held, with my friends un-until the glorious
freedom fighters of the revolution are safely released and allowed to leave the
country.  Please don't attempt to find us or we will be punished.  Any rescue
attempts or refusal to comply with the demands will result in our immediate
execution.  While prisoners of the Liberation Front we will be kept under strict
conditions, and without any clothing, to purify our souls and rid ourselves of
Western decadence.  We have been medically examined and are all fit at the
moment.  Please meet these reasonable demands as soon as you can, every hour
that we are here undergoing this re-education, is the responsibility of the
Government."

	She looked so fragile, her blonde hair tied back in the ponytail she
often wore, her slim nudity gleaming under the light The grinning monsters on
either side of her stroked her hair and cupped one of her small breasts.   She
had been told she could now say a few words of her own choosing to plead for
release.

	A tear began to trickle down her face, her lip quivered, "Please, please
do as they say, get us out of here...it's horrible", she sniffled as her
captor's hands patted her bottom with total possession before the camera
switched off.

	Linda had to spread-eagle face down on the floor again and one at a time
the captives had to make similar speeches.  Rose actually broke down into floods
of tears when she said her own words, blubbering face buried in her hands as
black hands cupped her bare breasts, that she wanted to go home.  The Oriental
girl kept the camera rolling - it was good propaganda.


				 PART 2



	The Arab addressed the captives. 

	"OK, that's the preliminaries out the way, you'll now be taken to your
cells.  I don't know when you'll meet up as a group again, male and female
prisoners are normally segregated.  Of course some of you may never meet again. 
If anyone steps out of line the retribution is swift and final here.  However,
we are civilised people so we have got Liberation Front tee shirts to wear on
your way to the cells but you'll have to be secured. So, quickly now, all stand
and put these on."

	He pointed to a pile of identical white tee shirts on the floor.  The
captives struggled into them. They were all the same size and bearing the logo
of a clenched black fist.  They barely covered their buttocks and then their
wrists were again cuffed behind them and blindfolds put in place.  Through the
door down the stairs again they were blindly led. More yelps from the gym. 
Patrick jumped felt hands grab his swinging manhood as he was led through.  Rose
too started as someone lifted her tee shirt and humiliatingly smacked her
bottom.  She recalled a few weeks ago threatening to report someone for sexual
harassment for lightly patting her bottom over her skirt.  Now these swine, of
both sexes, could take whatever liberties they liked.

	On they went; seemingly endless corridors and down more cold stairs then
they were halted.

	Martin and Patrick were pushed through a metal door and their blindfolds
and cuffs were removed.  They were in a small cell with two beds and tables. The
Negress and the Arab stood before them.  The Arab spoke.

	"Right gentlemen, take off the tee shirts, hold them above your heads
with straight arms and kneel with your legs apart " They looked briefly at each
other hesitantly but saw the Negress begin to unholster her gun and they quickly
complied.

	The terrorists looked down with a sneer at their naked kneeling
captives.

	"That is the position you adopt when anyone enters the cell and you will
always address us, your captors, as Sir or Madam.  There are a list of rules on
the wall, these you will memorise as you will your prisoner numbers, 121 Hughes,
122, Western.  You will be tested on your understanding of them later when
toilet facilities are brought in. Now, if you will excuse us, we must attend to
the ladies.  They are so much more interesting to look at than yourselves"  The
door banged shut and locked. The two men looked bleakly at each other as they
pulled on their tee shirts, imagining their women being similarly treated or
worse.

	The three women were likewise pushed into a cell and their blindfolds
and cuffs removed.  It was smallish, similar to the men's cell but had three
beds, with thin mattresses and single sheets and tables.  No windows but a
grilled light shone down again, the same procedure.  This time the Negress
snapped at Linda, Ellen and Rose to hold their tee shirts aloft and kneel with
legs splayed wide.  She barked further orders, punctuated with a kick until all
three captives had their legs wide enough and their arms and backs straight
enough for her satisfaction and that they were looking directly at her.

	The spiteful ebony woman addressed them whilst the Arab leaned casually
against a wall.

	"You sluts will adopt this exact position whenever anyone enters the
cell. From tomorrow, you will also call out your surname and individual prisoner
number; memorise them. Western you are 123718, Hughes, 124719, Pierce, 125720. 
The toilet bucket for all of your needs will be brought in once at night and
once in the morning and maybe midday.  There will be no other opportunities at
other times you will have to learn self control - not that you will get that
much to eat or drink anyway. You will always address us, your captors, as Sir or
Madam, but you will not normally speak unless spoken to.  There is a list of the
rules on the wall.  Study it, we will be back shortly to introduce you to our
leader. " The door banged shut.

	The three women gradually broke their poses and each one cried as they
pulled on their small tight tee shirts.  They sobbed together, clutching each
other, as they wondered what kind of hell they had fallen into. 

	Time passed, Rose had a need to go toilet but knew she must restrain
herself.  Going to the toilet was something so natural, so basic, so shaming,
but now it was forbidden her. They had read the list of rules.  Much the same as
they had already been told but additional things such as only being allowed to
use the toilet under supervision, not leaving their beds at night, only laying
in one position in the bed.  The 5am rising, making their bed, that the cell was
under constant video surveillance, the physical exercise they would be given,
the reading and writing tuition work they would be given on the Liberation
Front's aims etc.  She could scarcely take it all in. Suddenly footsteps in the
corridor and the door banged open.

	Rose was slow in responding and an Oriental girl's hand slapped hard
across her face.  Crying out in pain and shock, suppressing her initial rage,
she saw Linda and Ellen pulling off their tee shirts and sinking to their knees. 
Quickly Rose copied till all three captives knelt naked, holding their
tee-shirts with straight arms above their heads, legs spayed crudely wide as if
in offering, backs straight, looking fearfully at the spiteful Oriental girl and
the tall woman who was gracefully entering their cell.  Rose felt so abjectly
shamed at her humiliating posture, longing to cover herself, to protest, but
scared to do anything but comply.  She was perhaps in her late 40s slightly
Arabic, slender, elegant and graceful dressed in an elegant evening gown. She
stood silently looking down, appraising the three naked captives through hooded
eyes. Her elegant clothing emphasised their stark nakedness.  Then Linda felt
the woman touching her shoulder; she shuddered. 	

	"Stand child, I want to look at you, drop the tee shirt and place your
hands behind your neck," the woman purred.

	Linda stood rigid under her scrutiny as the woman walked round her; she
touched and prodded here and there. Feeling an arm muscle, lifting her ponytail,
tracing a finger down Linda's elegant neck to the tip of a breast, patting her
bottom.

	"Open your mouth," she commanded and then slid a finger gently between
Linda's lips, sliding it seductively in and out.  She made the blonde poke her
tongue out fully, held it painfully, twisting it up and down.

	"Hmm, nice mouth and tongue, I expect you've used them for many
purposes."

	Linda, blushing furiously, said, nothing, staring straight ahead
wide-eyed. Suddenly she too received a teeth rattling slap from the Oriental
girl. 

	"You were asked a question girl. Now answer your mistress," snapped the
Oriental. Gulping, her cheeks still stinging, Linda struggled to reply, what
could she say?

	"Y-yes," she stammered. Another hard slap across the other cheek sent
Linda momentarily staggering until she resumed her hands on head position.

	"Answer respectfully girl," the Chinese girl snarled.

	"S sorry, yes Mistress," Linda managed.

	"Good, good," purred the leader, " We'll overlook the transgression as
you are new but in future you will not be so fortunate." The irony was not lost
on the captives. Kidnapped, standing naked in a cell before these monsters and
fortunate for only being slapped for not calling them mistress.

	Linda cringed as the woman pressed her lips against hers. She smelt the
alcohol on them, let the lips opened her own.  Trembling in shame and fear she
stood passive as the tongue darted into her mouth.  The woman pulled away
smiling,

	"Yes, we must get to know each other better later on." Linda felt sick.

	Then it was Ellen's turn. Linda had to resume her kneeling posture
whilst Ellen stood rigid hands clasped behind her neck and the woman strolled
round her, goose-bumps had broken out on her bare silken flesh, she shivered. 
The woman's hands again touched and stroked.  She took one of Ellen's breasts,
which were larger than Linda's, in each hand, weighing up, fingers brushing her
nipples to erection.  A tear sprang from Ellen's eyes.

	"Does your nudity trouble you?"

	"Y yes..Mistress."

	"Why?"

	"My, my clothes.. Mistress" Ellen began but the woman shushed her.

	"I know a woman without her clothes, her handbag, cards and jewellery
loses her identity," the woman seemed to console. "But it is necessary child,
just as your body is totally open and bare, so I want your soul to be similarly
bare before me, no secrets, none.  It will help your re-education, make it
easier without any distractions.  Come let me give you a little kiss." The
woman's lips brushed over Ellen's tears then onto her lips.  Then the Oriental
girl pushed Ellen to her knees and Rose placed in the standing position.

	Rose bit her lips as the marauding hands stroked her shoulder-length
tousled blonde hair.  Her breathing increased as the fingertips trailed almost
sensually down the arch of her spine, to stroke over the silken softness of her
flinching bottom, almost making her believe it was her husband's touch.    She
was by now anxious to use a toilet and had to hold herself in.  Then the woman
stood directly before her.  Rose jumped as a knee slid between her open thighs
and her hands slid onto her buttocks and pulled her obscenely against her.  The
woman murmured.

	"Mmm, you're hot." She rocked Rose gently forward and back suggestively
against her knee. Then placing a hand either side of Rose's head she kissed her
full on the lips.  With a all too familiar pat on her bottom Rose was then
pushed down with the others and the woman addressed them all.

	"It's been a long day, I'm off to bed now.  I'm sorry your quarters are
not so luxurious as you are used to but maybe your stay here will not be too
long; that is your Government's concern.  This is a mainly female organisation
with only a few men, so you must adapt to that.  Obey my people at all times and
you may live through this experience; if not you'll only have yourselves to
blame. " She flounced off without another word leaving the kneeling captives
with the Oriental girl and the Negress who came in through the door with a
bucket and a tray with three cups.

	The Negress dropped the bucket containing a toilet roll before them.

	"Right you cows, you get ten minutes to have a crap or piss in the
bucket then that's it for the night.  We shall be watching, so get on with it,
and you may each have a cup of water. " She put the tray down and she and the
Oriental girl lit up cigarettes, sitting on a bed.

	The three naked, kneeling women hesitated.

	"Well, get on with it you stupid c___s. You do it now in the bucket if
you want to go, or hold it till the morning; either way you only go in the
bucket and we watch you.  Don't even think about what happens if you mess the
cell.  Well, what are you waiting for, anyone want it or shall we take it away?" 
The Negress moved to remove it but Rose got up, picking up her tee shirt,
pulling it on and moving to the bucket, reaching out.

	"No, please..Mistress, I need to go."

	"Well do it c__t." she snapped.

	The captives were silent, only their tormentors chattered.  Blushing
crimson, eyes to the floor Rose squatted over the bucket, feeling utterly
shamed, yet having to obey her body's needs. The Negress leered at her.

	"No, I want you to look me in the eye as you go, don't take your eyes
off me and while you go, I want you to sing to me, Yellow River I think," she
said smiling.

	"Please..... Mistress I"

	"Shut up, just look at me as you go."

	Rose inwardly shuddered, another humiliation.  She had to stare into the
monster's cruel, amused eyes.  Both of her captors smirked as she strained;
then, eventually she was able to release her bladder noisily into the metal
bucket.  Jokingly they held their noses.  She had to continue looking directly
at them as she wiped herself.  Then Linda and Ellen followed.  The captives
drank the water from the cups and the women stood to leave.

	"You all sleep face down in the beds; no other position.  No talking or
leaving the beds.  One of the lights stay on so we can see you through the
surveillance camera. Right, shift yoh fat arses into bed, now, go. "

	Linda, Ellen and Rose quickly got into bed and lay face down.  The woman
picked up the bucket and tray and the cell door banged shut, locked, and the
room dimmed.  The room was silent but for the subdued sobs of the three
terrified women crying themselves to sleep. 

	Rose blinked awake.  Where was she?  Was this a nightmare?  Her eyes
took in the other beds, the forms of her friends lying there silently in the
half-light. No, this was her new reality.  On waking, at home, she would
normally, have gone to the lavatory to empty her bladder but this was not home
and that was a luxury she no longer had, she tried to forget about it. " How
long would it be?" she thought, before they brought that horrible bucket. She
heard a banging, footsteps, oh no, 5am already?  Harsh voices outside, then the
door being unlocked and opened.  Already the others were getting out of bed and
pulling their tee shirts off. Rose quickly copied, also sinking to her knees,
legs splayed shamefully.

	"There was something else they had to do", she thought fearfully, Linda
got there first.

	" Western, 123718 Mistress."

	The harsh looking female guard, German looking, then looked down at
Ellen. She was in trouble too.

	"Hughes, 124 er, 7,  er, sorry Mistress I don't know."  She finished in
a whisper.

	The cold eyes then turned to Rose, but her mind had gone completely
blank in this nightmare scenario.

	"Pierce, please Mistress, I cannot remember my number."

	The woman spat venom at the shivering naked figures of Rose and Ellen.
"You stupid c___s, you will learn your prisoner numbers."

	She repeated the numbers one digit at a time to each captive,
punctuating each number by kicking their bare breasts, aiming for the nipples,
reducing both Ellen and Rose to tears. It hurt their pride as much as their
flesh.  Then she had them, sobbing, repeat the numbers.

	" Hughes, 124719 Mistress."

	" Pierce, 125720 Mistress". No encouragement, just a simple,

	"Correct".

	Then a small Oriental girl entered with a tray of hot drinks, toast and
three flowers.

	"Good morning", she said cheerfully. She reacted to the initial silence
from the captives with the beginning of a glare. "Lost your tongues?" Quickly
the three kneeling women, humbly, responded, almost in unison.

	"Good morning Mistress."   

	"That's better. Right, it's time for your morning workout. You ladies
drop and give me ten press-ups here at my feet, right up and down, backs will be
straight." She said sweetly.

	Immediately, the three naked figures pumped up and down, finding the
last few a strain but given to quarter and made to do the whole ten.

	"Right, jumping up and down, legs wide then together, arms clapping
above heads then by your sides. One minute - go."

	Rose longed to use a toilet but instead had to jump around, hair, bare
breasts, arms and bladder bouncing.  The need was a sharp pain inside her and
she was  particularly grateful when, all panting, they were allowed to stop.

	"Touch your toes ten times - go."

	She inwardly groaned, gritting her teeth, she could feel the pressure of
her full bladder.  Bend, stretch, up and down. the Oriental and German women
made sure they did each one correctly, or had them repeat it, no bending legs,
all the way down each time.  The bitch allowed her hand to rest casually on
Rose's flexing bottom, cupping the taut cheeks. 

	Soon, the three nude captives were pink and panting now, but there was
no sign of the toilet bucket.

	"Nice little work-out does you good," said the Oriental woman. " Forget
tee-shirts, now face down on beds please, I give you flower each to look pretty
girls."

	With a gasp, Linda felt the stem of the flower pushed coldly, painfully
into her anus, the Oriental girl, twirled it around till she was satisfied with
the angle. Then on to the other captives till all three had a flower protruding
from them.

	"Ah so, very pretty." She laughed. Even the harsh German woman was
smirking with the fun.  "You stay like that and read these papers on the
founding of the Liberation Movement, have breakfast later. " She gave each
captive six large pages of papers extolling the Lib Front; it would take some
time to read.  The women made to leave.

	Rose began, "Please, please, Mistress, can I go toilet, I need to..."

	Swiftly, the German woman bent down and slapped her face, making her
blink back tears of shame.

	"Speak when spoken to."  The Oriental woman made as if she was really
weighing matters up, deliberating, then, finally coming to a weighty decision.

	"No, no I think not.  A little self-control is good for the spirit. You
just lay there, all of you, no moving at all except to turn pages, no speaking,
remember the camera over there.  Just concentrate on reading for awhile and we
see about breakfast and toilet later if you've done well with the reading.  I'll
ask questions on the text. By the way, no need to stand when we come back in,
just lay there quietly."

	The door clanged shut. The three friends glanced at each other with
pitiful looks. Linda nearly snapped. How could people treat others like this? 
Her fists clenched, she would dearly loved to have hit and kicked out at her
captors.  These women, monsters in human form, could calmly control every aspect
of their lives, forbidding them even basic necessities.

	She nearly cried, seeing her two friends, naked just as she was, the
ridiculous flowers sticking obscenely out of their bottoms.  Self-control
asserted itself again.  She could do nothing.  They were all totally in the
power of these monsters; her husband was somewhere close but equally helpless. 
What might be happening to him? 	Stifling a sob she began to read the
boring text.

	Rose clenched her stomach muscles to prevent her wetting herself and
tried to concentrate on the reading.

	Ellen tried to block out everything; her need to go toilet, her fear,
her humiliation at lying naked like this.  She just had to concentrate, exclude
that thought and read. She would have also liked a drink.  It was just a few
feet away, gradually getting cold.  Out of reach, forget it. Concentrate on the
Lib Front text.

	Finally, after an hour in which they desperately clenched themselves in
the door banged open.  Tantalisingly slowly the Oriental and German women made
themselves comfortable on chairs and began to ask their captives questions on
the papers.  Rose had to knot her stomach to control her self.  She struggled,
like the others to answer the endless questions. "What were the origins of the
Front?  Their influences, power bases?"  She felt like screaming but instead,
respectfully answered as best she could. Just a little schoolgirl again.

	"I, think....... Mistress," the movement grew with ... etc. Each woman
struggled to cope with the details of something which 24 hours ago was only a
vague reference in the news. 

	At last, the Oriental woman brought in the toilet bucket. Then, a
torture on a torture the captives, still lying naked on their beds had to drink
the now cold tea, irrespective of whether they liked or wanted it.  Then the now
equally cold toast. They had to consume everything. Looking pointedly, mockingly
at Rose, knowing her need, the German woman firstly asked Linda to use the
toilet. Rose nearly cried, her teeth were clenched, inwardly begging Linda not
to delay.

	As with the previous evening, the captives had to look their guards
directly in the eyes, as they urinated, no looking away in shame.  This delayed
Linda.

	Then Ellen's turn.  She too could not manage anything right away.

	Bliss. It was Rose's turn and she practically ran to the bucket,
starting to squirt immediately.  The Oriental woman, walked up to her, lifting
her head by her blonde tresses so she had to stare into her eyes from just a few
inches away.

	"My, you did want to go badly, what a smell, what a noise. Be sure to
wipe yourself properly." Rose was crimson with shame but at least had one less
tension.

	The men, Martin and Patrick, in an adjoining cell had received similar
treatment.  They had the additional torment of the Negro making pointed comments
about the captive women, their wives.  How they were stark naked just a few feet
away, available should anyone wish to make use of them, how the terrorist leader
had examined them and so on.  Martin's need to use the lavatory had overcome his
ability to hold back and, whilst having to read his literature, lying naked on
the bed with the flower from his bottom, he had to scuttle into a corner of the
cell and urinate.

	For that, they took Martin naked into a hall with most of the terrorists
gathered and one of the Oriental woman made him touch his toes.  The woman gave
him six with the cane till he actually cried. Neither man was allowed any
further food or water that day as a punishment.

	Linda, Rose and Ellen were told it was time for PT.  They were allowed
to pull on their tee shirts.  Then came the ritual whenever they left the cell,
of having their wrists cuffed behind them and being blindfolded.  Hands on their
arms, guiding them stumbling along, helpless as babies, to the gym where the
cuffs and blindfolds were removed.  They were handed over to a muscle-bound Arab
man and Negress wearing only tiny outfits; they had magnificent oiled bodies. 

	All three captives may have considered flirting, or even having a fling
with the handsome Arab under other circumstances, but here it was just an added
humiliation to have him see them in these circumstances.  The terrorists told
their captive audience they would put them through their paces. Next came the
humiliating stripping ritual again.  The Negress immediately laid into them.

	"Get that s__t off now.  I want to see it all hang out, all you've got. 
I want you f___ing naked," she bellowed. She had them stand hands on head in a
nude, shivering line as she inspected them.  Sneering, poking, prodding. "Fat
arse, belly too big. We'll get you into shape."

	The Arab and Negress had them lifting, running, bending, straining,
breasts and buttocks jiggling. 

	"Haaargghh, please, "Rose screamed, clutching a red line of pain on her
bottom, as the Negress used a whippy canes on her. 

	Indeed the canes lashed down across their shining flesh, more used to
gentle caresses, whenever they thought the women were employing insufficient
effort.  Linda was slippery with sweat, her fair hair plastered over her head. 
The Arab was right behind her as she bent over with spread legs to touch her
toes for the umpteenth time. She could sense the heat of him there his strength,
then came his booming voice.

	"No, not like that, like this. " Linda felt his pouch against her hot
bare buttocks, the huge manhood nestling there, almost leaping out to sink
between the cleft of her buttocks.  Now his front was pressed tight against her
back and buttocks, bending over with her guiding her.  One hand now holding a
breast, the nipple erect.  In spite of her predicament she almost felt, totally
illogically, the stirrings of lust.The Arab laughed.

	"You're hot for it I reckon girl.  Not now, maybe later if you're good."

	Oh the shame of it, Linda went crimson as she continued to bend and
stretch.

	There was no respite. The Arab decided that Ellen's press-ups would
improve if he lay on his back and Ellen pumped up and down over him.  Up and
down.  Ellen raised and lowered her nude body above that of the muscled Arab. 
He made her drop flat till her bare breasts were squashed against his oiled,
muscled chest, her groin down onto the large bulge of his barely concealed
manhood.  Holding it there, almost enjoying it relishing the feel of his
maleness while he ensured her back was straight by running a finger down her
spine then ordering her to raise again, before lowering.

	The Arab 'assisted' Rose doing her knee bends by lying on his back and
having her raise and lower her haunches over his face.  She had to do it. Ignore
her womanhood totally open, thighs splayed, lowering on his face.  Was that his
lips brushing her?  It set a tingle through her and she involuntarily shuddered. 
Then she had to push and rise up again holding the dumbbells.  	The Arab took a
break, sitting back, sipping a cool drink watching with amusement.  There was
nothing for the tired captives, their nude curves glistening with sweat, no
drink or break.  The Negress simply took the lead.  She had them running on the
spot, bare breasts and buttocks bouncing wildly.

	 "OK you slags, I wanna see some real sweat.  You cannot suck up to me. 
I saw the way you tarts, you slags, acted.  Faster, lift those f___ing legs
higher."

	All three had the shame and pain from collecting several more tiny red
whippy marks across breasts or thighs or buttocks, from the cane before,
exhausted, hot, sweaty and panting it was finished some two hours later.

	"Showers", shouted the Negress clapping her hands.  She opened a door to
a shower room and made them run through an ice-cold torrent till they shivered
with cold, yelping and gasping with the shock.  They were allowed to briefly
towel dry then the ritual of being blindfolded, wrists cuffed behind them and,
again like babies, being led helplessly and sightlessly back to their cell.

	After a short respite, the cell door opened. After the ritual of
stripping off the tee shirt, kneeling naked and reciting their names and numbers
they were given a lunch of milk and fruit.

	Although their physical exertions and sweat lost had alleviated any
pressing need to empty their bladders, Linda and Rose had the beginning of a
need now to empty their bowels, but after the performance in the morning they
daren't ask.

	After lunch and the stripping, kneeling ritual, the guards brought no
bucket, only notebooks and papers.  Each captive was ordered to write a five
thousand-word essay on why they liked the Liberation Front.  Having to ignore
the needs of their stomachs and bowels, the captives spent several hours reading
and writing, in total silence as instructed.

	At evening time kneeling naked, having recited their names and numbers
the captives saw a glass of water and a hunk of dry bread each but also the
beloved bucket.

	Firstly though, Ellen, Rose and Linda had to eat their bread and drink
the water, sitting on their beds whilst the two guards read through the essays
they had written. 

	Linda tried to hold her stomach in, stop it making noises as she sat
quietly, hands on head legs wide apart - as they had all been instructed when
they had finished eating.  The guards seemed in no hurry to finish reading the
essays.  Commenting here and there, asking an occasional question. 

	"Right, these will be marked tonight and you will correct them tomorrow.
Hughes first on the bucket," the guards finally allowed.

	The monsters always seemed to know who really needed the toilet, then
left them to wait.

	Ellen squatted, urinated, maintaining the ritual of looking the guards
in the eyes, but had yet no need to empty her bowels.

	Then came an agonising wait, no one using the bucket, both Rose and
Linda looking at it longingly.

	"Western"

	Linda was there, over the bucket, her face starting to flush with the
strain of the first bowel movement.

	"Keep looking at me Western, but I also want you to continuously repeat
your name and prisoner number. Start."

	It was yet another humiliation. Linda repeated the words continuously,
the guards laughing when her flow of words was slowed or interrupted by the
strain of each bowel movement. The guards joked about the noise and smell.

	Then it was Rose's turn and she had to similarly look at her guards and
talk to them as she emptied her bowels.  The Negress stroked her tousled blonde
hair, and her shining face as she sat close to the blonde, looking curiously,
amused, into her eyes as she strained over the bucket.

	Finally their second night had arrived.  Again, none of the women slept
much such was there fear and uncertainly.

	---------

	Time passed, days passed, an endless carnival of pain and shame.

	Rose awoke. It must be another morning.  How long had she been here? It
seemed to have been forever.  Her home and husband seemed to have been in
another existence.  Each day had its horrors but they flowed into one nightmare. 
Ellen, Rose and Linda were all awake that morning, unable to put the events
fully out of their minds.  In addition to their physical exertions they had to
work every day on essays, correcting, being forced to see things from the
terrorists angle.  Being forced to sympathise with their aims even though the
terrorists were at the same time abusing them.

	A 'break' from the routine came during workouts in the gym.  The brute
of an Arab had had each of the female captives on separate days when the Negress
had 'conveniently' been out of sight but just as 'conveniently' returned to
catch them and accuse the women of seducing the Arab.

	Linda had been hot moist and sweating, in a crab position the Arab had
forced her to hold, legs splayed wide apart.  Looking down on her, encouraging
her, she then saw he no longer had his pouch.  Saw his huge erection, she had
caught her breath.

	His huge hands were sliding over her soaking body, up her thighs,
squeezing her breasts.  Over and into her womanhood, finding her essence.  Her
hips had involuntarily pumped and he had laid on top and slowly thrust into her,
filling her.

	Lying, panting on the floor as the Arab worked over her, beginning to
co-operate, Linda had to her horror seen the leering face of the Negress looking
down at her in scorn.  Calling her a slut and a tart afterwards, slapping her
face and body as she stood meekly hands on head, totally shaming her.

	Rose had been touching her toes when she felt the Arab's huge erection
pushing between the cheeks of her buttocks, his fingers first seeking her out. 
Leaving her no way out she wriggled and writhed with involuntary and sudden
lust. 

	"Oh,mm," he had entered and filled her so totally, pulsing within her,
her hips began jerking with his in rhythm.  Although it was rape, it was at
least more natural than a woman's touch and better than pain.  That she was
doing it in public and not with her husband were factors she over which she no
longer had any control.  Then the Negress again came on the scene with her scorn
and venom, heaped on more humiliation.  She had to touch her toes like a
schoolgirl to be spitefully caned, naked before them all.

	Swack!

	"Haghh," Rose yelped as the cane bit deeply into her taut flesh like a
hot band of wire.

	Again and again it lashed her whilst she strove to remain obediently
bent over, tears trickling from her eyes onto her bare feet. It was unbelievably
painful and shaming, and scarcely less so to then be comforted like a little
g8rl, a black arm holding her bare, heaving shoulders. 

	Ellen was doing knee bends when he slid, naked beneath her, impaling
her, holding her by her breasts and guiding her up and down, then she too faced
the wrath of the Negress.

		----------

	On another endless day  the captives were told that someone they knew
wanted to look them over.  They were told that this person wanted to give them a
thorough inspection but that they must be sightless because if they recognised
the person they would have to be executed.

	Rose, Ellen and Linda stood naked against a wall. Blindfolded with hands
clasped behind their necks.  They heard one of the Negresses talking to someone,
bringing them in. Rose, naked, blushed to her roots.  Who was it looking at her?
Was it a man, a woman? Who were they?  She heard the Negress invite the person
to give the captives "a good going over, be thorough."  Rose still cringed at
the feeling of those hot sweaty hands travelling all over her body.  Into her,
as the Negress asked if she was "juicy."

	There wee just grunts from the mysterious person.  Turning her this way
and that, prodding probing so obscenely and with total possession.  Then having
to stand there behind her blindfold in darkness, as the ritual was repeated with
her two friends.  If they ever got out of here, would they ever meet this person
in their normal life?  They would forever wonder at any odd comment.  Their
blindfolds prevented the trembling women from seeing just another guard adding
to their uncertainty and shame during his examination.

	Most recently there was an evening disco in the terrorists headquarters. 
The three female captives were taken there bound and blindfold in their tee
shirts. It was a woman only, lesbian affair.

	As soon as Ellen, Linda and Rose had their bonds removed amid the
crashing noise and flashing lights they were "picked-up" by butch women. They
were given no drinks but they had to dance with the women.

	It was so humiliating for respectable, heterosexual women such as
themselves to be treated this way.  They were told that they had to play the
part of enjoying themselves, to pretend they were girls on the make continually
smile no matter how much they wanted to scream and shout, push away the
marauding hands, slap out.  If they acted miserably it would spoil the evening
for the guests and the captives would be punished. 

	Rose shuddered as strong female arms slid around her.  Hands stroked
down over her back over the thin covering of her tee shirt, lifting it slightly. 
They clasped and stroked patted her bare buttocks beneath. They gripped her
cheeks, reminding her of her husband if they were at a dance.  But here, the
hands were female and they gripped her bare flexing bottom obscenely,
shamefully, publicly.  

	They all had to act exactly as if they were willingly at a normal dance
and they were unattached women.  Instead of men dancing with them, stroking
lightly over down their backs, shoulders, their best frocks and dresses,
flirting maybe, they were faced with hard-faced lesbians, and the captives were
naked under short, thin tee shirts. Sickening.

	Rose forced herself to endure yet another mouth crushing hers, tongue
intruding sickeningly as a rough hand grasped the mound of her breasts jiggling
through her tee-shirt. A leg pressed obscenely between her thighs, pressing up
into her soft sex lips, whilst hands on her bottom cheeks ensured she has ground
her hips against the woman. It was shameful and sickening.

	Then there was a Karaoke session. The three captives were made to
perform. None could sing as each was alone on the stage, doing their best, in
whispered voices, the audience of now drunken women jeered.

	"Get em off".  It was a play on words because the audience insisted on
them removing the tee shirts and continue singing in the nude

	Each captive was crying, sobs of shame as they attempted to continue,
naked and croaking. The women in the audience whistling and jeered,

	"Come on darlin', shake em, wiggle it"

	Rose thought she would die as she jiggled her body before the hungry
eyes, bare breasts bouncing for the lustful amusement of her captors as she
attempted to sing in a weak, pitiful voice. 

	It was almost a relief to be dancing again when the disco restarted,
even though their tee shirts had vanished and they had to continue stark naked,
hands now freely travelling over their bodies. 

	Rose shuddered as course fingers slid unnaturally down the arch of her
spine to stroke her bottom, fingers delving horribly into the cleft, making her
wriggle uncomfortably.  She had been crushed against the bodies of so many women
dancers their lips crushing down on hers as their strong arms held her tight. 

	"Ugh," she gasped as a finger curled unnaturally into the tight, rosebud
of her anus, filling her disgustingly. She willed herself to try to forget that
these were women, women who would have her killed no sooner than look at her,
women who despised her and her way of life. Instead, she told herself that these
were handsome men; impossible.  These were drunk women, mouthing obscene, crude
comments, hands all over her, hands pushing her bare bottom writhing her nudity
against them.  Her partner's leg between her own whispers in her ear told to
work up and down on the leg.  A woman's fingers clenched on her buttock cheeks
leaving marks. A horrible, shameful situation but Rose had been told the
alternative of non-cop-operation.

	 A new dance, a new partner, just another. Then she realised it was the
terrorist leader.  The imposing and strict woman had an aura about her.  She
wasn't drunk like some of the others.  The woman was more sensual and not just
groping.  She kissed the pulse of her throat, stroked her hair before kissing
Rose gently full on the lips, cupping a breast, the treacherous nipple
hardening.  Her captor's hips ground against Rose's, her hands went to her bare
bottom and pulled her against her, sighing.  Suddenly, unexpectedly, Rose had
burst into tears.  She was receiving the nearest thing to kindness since she had
been kidnapped - even though based on lust.

	The terrorist leader had moved on to Linda.  She was dancing with Linda,
her hands on the cheeks of Linda's bare bottom, kissing her deeply on the mouth. 
Then on to Ellen, pressing her chest against Ellen's largish bare breasts.  The
rubbing against the material made Ellen's nipples erect and the woman bent
forward to tickle Ellen's nipples with her tongue.

	As the evening drew on all three naked captives ended up on the lap of a
woman, having to kiss and cuddle.  Ellen found herself on the lap of an older
woman in her sixties, largish.  She insisted that Ellen place her arms round her
neck and return the kisses, she felt the older woman's hands gliding up and down
her spine, patting her bare bottom. 

	Ellen, Linda and Rose could not know that Martin and Patrick, were
sitting handcuffed and gagged in an adjoining room having to watch everything on
a video camera.

	Eventually, the women captives had been trussed up and blindfolded again
and led by the drunken, laughing women, back to their cell, banging bare shins
on the way as the women stumbled uncaringly with their helpless captives; there
they were awaited by the terrorist leader. When their blindfolds and cuffs were
removed Linda, Rose and Ellen were amazed to see the leader, lying naked on a
bed, with a large black dildo strapped in place. 

	Rose told herself it was the pressure of the harsh circumstances and the
contrast with the softness of the woman that made her co-operate.  She knew the
penalties for not doing so but nevertheless threw herself into the welcoming
arms with almost gusto. She gasped as she impaled herself as instructed on the
cold rubber, it felt so unnatural at first but then the woman's arms were around
her, cupping her flexing buttocks, guiding her, and she was writhing on top of
her returning her kisses with a shameless passion until she climaxed.  

	For over an hour the woman had made love to each of her female captives,
bringing each one to  a shameful orgasm before the others.  Again, the two male
captives were forced to look on via the video.  

	The captive's review of their kidnap ordeal was brought to an abrupt end
with the cell door banging open.  Linda, Ellen and Rose went to assume their
naked kneeling position but were instead hustled immediately out of the room,
fear filling them. However, the terrorist leader told them that, unexpectedly,
the Government had deported the other gang members and that they were closing up
their UK operation to be with them. With no more explanation, all five captives
were trussed, gagged and blindfolded and dumped naked where they would be soon
be found!

	However, Rose and the others would never forget their ordeal, often
wondering who might now be looking at and enjoying the videos made of their
enslavement.  But they too had changed. She would often unconsciously sink to
her knees, hands on heads thighs wide naked before her husband, silently begging
him to dominate her



					THE END


					MARTIN HUGHES


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