The Mansion - Part One

Nancy jogged along the road on her regular morning run, admiring the English countryside through the winter fog. She leaned into the wind, watching her legs appear in the haze as it swirled around her feet.

She turned to her left and entered a meadow heading toward a grove of trees in the distance, her tennis shoes damp from the wet weeds and grass. Occasionally, she would glance up in the direction she was running to look at the four chimneys of the mansion silhouetted in gray outline against the sky. She was approaching the estate through the meadow from the rear, and as she entered the trees, she saw the high iron fence bordering the grounds and abruptly turned, jogging up the slope while following its path, the blur of the fence grating marking her progress.

She had been running by the mansion now for two days while on vacation and had become curious about it.

Last evening, she asked about the estate, posing her question to Mrs. Andrews, the innkeeper's wife.

"Oh, that old place!" laughed Mrs. Andrews, a chubby woman with a ready smile.

"What's that she wants to know, Nell?" said a grizzled old man standing a few feet away, smiling at them.

"Oh, she wants to know about the Charrington place, Tom," answered Mrs. Andrews.

So, between the two of them, Nancy was informed about the Charrington Estate. Tom would tell her stories, and Nell would confirm them as she stopped and leaned her arms on the bar, resting between bouts of serving her patrons.

Now, as she ran by the fence, occasionally glancing at the grounds, she knew a little bit about the occupants. The estate had been in the family for years and was now run by the third generation Charrington, a retired RAF Colonel who preferred his stamp collection to people. He lived there with an equally private wife and their daughter. Mrs. Charrington, at one time, could be seen horseback riding, accompanied by her daughter, but the horses had been sold recently. A new secretary was residing at the mansion, a Miss Johnson, an aloof woman hired by Mr. Charrington. She seemed to be handling all the necessary business affairs. The townspeople would see her occasionally at the local bank, dressed in a severe tweed business suit, her hair drawn back and wearing glasses. If one looked closely, she appeared to be an attractive woman who chose not to be.

"A rather uppity woman, that one," was the general consensus of the pub patrons.

Of course, there were some sympathetic reasons for this attitude. She had no sooner arrived than she fired Mrs. Davenport, the Charrington family cook for nearly twenty years, and let go of the maid.

"A rather dim-witted girl, perhaps, but no reason to fire her!" the pub patrons agreed.

It appeared Miss Johnson had complete freedom regarding the affairs of the Charrington household.

The new cook Miss Johnston had recently hired could be seen buying staples for the household, but she remained distant and even surly at times.

"Not one for a pleasant chat," said Mrs. Andrews.

"Not one for gossip," Nancy took that to mean, but let it pass as she stood in the doorway of the pub, and looked up at the four chimneys in the distance, standing like silent sentinels over the small village.

Her breathing now was becoming labored, and she knew she was more than halfway to the Inn, completing her circuit of the town. She was looking forward to one of Mrs. Andrews' hearty breakfasts.

Suddenly, she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye, behind the fence, something in the distance. As she peered through the fog, she thought she saw a small figure silhouetted on a hill, but it had disappeared. Thinking the fog was playing tricks on her, she continued on but deliberately slowed her pace. Once again, she turned and looked, then suddenly stopped. She had seen something. An apparition began to take the form of a figure awkwardly running toward her, appearing and disappearing in the fog with a billowing cape. She could make out the figure of a girl; her almost comical awkwardness was caused by what looked to Nancy like extremely high-heeled boots. The cape flapped against her knees, further hampering her running. Fascinated, Nancy drew closer to the fence.

"Straight out of a Victorian novel," she thought.

The girl was definitely in a hurry, and as she came closer, Nancy could see that she wore a ski mask under the hood of her cape.

"Well, it is cold," Nancy thought. "Why doesn't she unbutton that damn cape if she's in such a hurry?"

But as she thought this, the girl suddenly reached the fence, almost colliding with it. The whole scene would have been amusing had Nancy not seen the fright in the girl's eyes. The girl was gasping for air through her nose, as if she were having trouble breathing. The only thing Nancy could think of was that something was wrong at the Mansion. Perhaps someone had a heart attack, the phone was out of order, and the girl had just run for help. Nancy was desperately trying to figure out what was wrong.

"What is it?" she shouted at the girl.

The girl was still panting furiously through her nose, making ungodly grunting and snorting sounds behind the mask that framed her eyes and nose in an oval but covered her mouth. She seemed frustrated in her attempts to communicate. Then, startling Nancy, she spun around, presenting her back to Nancy and bending forward as she repeatedly jerked her arms up and down. Nancy could see the outline of her arms beneath the cape. From what she could tell, her arms were tied or caught somehow behind her.

The girl now turned, her eyes pleading, and in exasperation lunged at the fence, thrusting her face hard between the grating, as if she could, by magic, walk through the fence headfirst.

This action unnerved Nancy so much that she took a step forward to help the girl, wondering if she was demented.

By rubbing her face back and forth against the fence, the girl managed to catch part of the ski mask below her nose, revealing something black across her mouth. Shocked, Nancy tentatively grasped the mask as the girl nodded her head up and down frantically in a "yes" motion. Gingerly, she pulled down the girl's mask, exposing a cruel-looking leather strap across her mouth, so tight that her cheeks bulged out over it, her whole face now framed in the oval of wool as Nancy tucked it beneath her chin.

"My God!" Nancy whispered in awe. "Why are you gagged?"

realized the foolishness of the question as soon as she asked it. Wishing for a knife, she tried to pull the gag away from her mouth, but she couldn't budge it, strapped as tightly as it was; besides, she was hurting the girl. Her fingers tore at the hood, piercing, unfastening it, and pulling it down around the girl's shoulders. It was a little tricky with her hands thrust between the bars of the fence. She reached for the ski mask and slowly worked it over her head, revealing blond curls cascading to her shoulders.

"Turn around so I can see how this thing is fastened," Nancy said to the girl, pointing at the gag.

The girl tried to say something, realized it was useless, and obediently turned her back to Nancy, lowering her head. Nancy hunted through the girl's hair, carefully parting it to find the buckle of the gag, and was amazed to discover a small padlock through an eyelet on the buckle, preventing anyone from tampering with it.

"What in ... who would so such a thing?"

She grabbed the girl by the shoulders, spun her around again, and looked into her eyes.

"Listen, there's nothing I can do for you till I get over this fence. I saw a tree back there. I'm going to see if I can get over somehow. When I do, I'll figure out a way to get you loose, okay?"

The girl nodded her head gratefully.

Nancy offered her a reassuring wink before running back down the path next to the fence, with the girl trailing her, attempting to keep up on the other side.

"What I should do is just go to the front gate and demand to know what is going on. Who would do such a thing to that girl?" she thought as she ran toward the tree. But something told her to hesitate, a sense of foreboding. She felt she must talk to the girl first, alone. She had already surmised that she was the Charrington's daughter.

She reached the tree, looked up at its branches tentatively, sighed, took a deep breath, and slowly began to climb. The cold bark of the tree stuck to her jogging suit as she inched up its girth, grasping for any handhold. She finally reached the first limb and rested, looking down at the girl who was glancing up at her and then behind her in desperation. Nancy sat there catching her breath, wondering what she was doing there.

"Why don't I just go into town and tell the police?"

Instead, she started climbing again. Her main goal, which was the most obvious and quickest solution to all her questions, remained with the girl below. She had to reach her and remove the gag. She reached the height she felt was necessary and inched out on a limb closest to the fence. From what she could see, it looked like she could make it. Her concern now was clearing the spikes at the top of the fence. She rested for a minute, crouched on the limb, judging the distance, and then jumped. She somehow managed to miss the spikes, although one tore through her jacket sleeve. She landed hard and rolled awkwardly forward, spraining her wrist, but otherwise, she had no broken bones. She slowly began to rise, nursing her sprained wrist, as the girl ran toward her, almost colliding into her. She gave the girl a brief hug and then got to work freeing her. Quickly, she unbuttoned the cape, only to discover she was naked underneath except for a collar and leash.

"This is getting weird," thought Nancy.

She saw that the girl's boots went all the way up her thighs. "Definitely weird!"

She tore the girl's cape away from her shoulders and turned her around to get at the girl's hands, only to groan. She found that her arms were pulled back painfully in a leather sheath that extended to her shoulders, buckled and padlocked like her gag. But this time, there were three buckles and three padlocks.

Nancy let out a slow whistle.

"Well, whoever wants you tied up, honey, really wants you tied up. We'll have to wait to get you out of that thing. Let's start with the gag first."

"Maybe she even knows where the keys are," thought Nancy as she put the cape back on the girl and buttoned it up, both for the girl's protection against the cold and for her modesty.

She looked into the girl's eyes and said, "Listen, I have an idea how to get that gag off, but you'll have to lie on your side so I can try and break the padlock with a rock."

Somehow, the girl understood and began to kneel on the ground. Nancy gently helped her lie down, turning her face to the side. She searched for and found two large rocks, lugging them back to the watching girl with a hint of apprehension. She pulled the girl's hair away from the buckle, took the padlock, and placed it on one of the large rocks. Holding the other rock between her hands and being very careful not to hit the girl's head, she started to pound the padlock.

"That's all I need, brain the poor girl while I'm trying to help her," she thought.

The small lock broke on the fifth try. She helped the girl to a sitting position and hurriedly unstrapped the wide strap, only to find a smaller strap with its own buckle hidden beneath. Cursing, she clawed at the more miniature buckle, noting at least that it had no lock. She began to realize the gag was in two parts. The wider band covers the lower part of the girl's face, and a smaller band. The smaller band was sewn to a large wedge of leather filling the girl's mouth. So tight was the smaller strap that it was almost hidden in the wadding, pulling hard between the girl's teeth and the corners of her mouth, and making deep furrows in the girl's cheeks as it circled her head. Now, with the large belt loose and dangling in front, she grabbed the smaller strap and began to pull. The girl winced and closed her eyes as her head came forward with the gag. "My God, they've really packed her mouth," Nancy thought. Carefully. Nancy compressed and worked the giant leather pad back and forth in a see-saw motion until it finally popped clear of the girl's mouth, followed by a stream of saliva.

In disgust, Nancy stared at the large pad with its dangling straps and tossed it to the ground as if it were obscene.

"No wonder you couldn't say anything!" She held the girl's head between her hands in pity, trying to wipe her mouth as best she could with the back of her sleeve, wishing she had brought a handkerchief.

The girl was swallowing and working her jaw, and then, almost in surprise at finding her voice, she blurted out,

"Help me. Please, for God's sake, help me!"

The girl's voice sounded so pitiful that Nancy held her for a moment and then said, "Who did this to you? What is going on here?"

"I thought I'd never speak again, they only un-gag us to feed us or get information," the girl said bitterly.

"Un-gag us? You mean there are more in the same situation?" asked Nancy incredulously.

"Please," the girl said. "I really haven't time to explain." She was struggling to her feet, and Nancy helped her.

"Thank God I saw you, and thank you for helping me, but you must get help."

"But what about you?" asked Nancy.

"No. I'll only slow you down. Get to the police and tell them that my family and I are prisoners."

"I'll not leave without you. I can break those other padlocks just as easily," said Nancy.

"Please," the girl smiled at Nancy. "I appreciate all you've done, but she's bound to have found me missing by now—we just don't have the time. There's a gate at the side entrance on the other side; that's where I was headed when I spotted you. I really don't know what I would have done if I had gotten there anyway. I guess I was hoping it might be open. But even if it is locked, you can easily get over it. I used to sneak out that way sometimes on dates. Now please, please hurry and ...

The girl paused mid-sentence, staring wide-eyed over Nancy's shoulder, then wailed, "Oh God. nooooo!"

Nancy spun around and looked into the eyes of four Dobermans who were curiously staring at her from about ten feet away. They had approached so quietly that both girls were too excited to hear them.

"Oh. nooooo!" The girl had slumped to her knees. Her head bent forward, and she began to cry.

"Cynthia. You naughty girl!" came a voice from behind. The ominous sound scared both of them because it came from nowhere. Nancy squinted into the woods to find the voice.

A tall blonde materialised from out of the fog behind the dogs and approached them. She was dressed in a belted leather trench coat. boots, a scarf over her head, and a book beneath her arm.

"It seems I just can't read in peace without you wandering off. I'll have to tie your leash more securely next time."

Nancy eyed her warily as the dogs circled her sniffing with curiosity..

The blonde turned her attention from the girl and looked at Nancy. "The dogs and I wish you both to move away from the fence and over to those trees," she indicated with a nod of her head a stand of trees some distance from the fence, "and if you make one move otherwise, the dogs will rip your throat out. Do you understand me?"

Nancy could only stand there in amazement and nod her head. She did not doubt that the dogs could do just that. She fell in beside the girl and, escorted by the dogs, walked into the grove, shielding them from the fence.

"That's better," said the blonde as she looked behind her. "No need to involve anyone else."

The girl was whimpering beside Nancy, but for the moment, Nancy was not so much concerned about her as she was about her own sudden predicament. She was used to being in control of her life, and she didn't like the sudden change of events for an instant. She'd like nothing more than to take this blonde hitch one-on-one, minus her four-legged bodyguards.

Slowly, the blonde placed her book on a high rock and approached Nancy, sliding her belt from her coat.

"Please, place your hands behind you and then turn your back to me."

"The hell I will," snapped Nancy.

The blonde theatrically held her hand up and snapped her fingers. Suddenly, Nancy was knocked to the ground, staring down the throats of four barking, snarling dogs. She had been hit hard, and one dog had its paws on her shoulders, barking in her face; the noise was deafening. She rolled over and pulled her hands over her head, and suddenly all was quiet again. The blonde had called off the dogs and was standing over her.

"As I said before, place your hands behind you!"

Slowly, Nancy placed her hands behind her and felt the belt looped around her upper arms. In the next moment, her arms were jerked together and buckled, painfully forcing her elbows together and throwing her shoulders back.

"There, that's much better!" said the blonde, "Now get up."

It was a little awkward, but Nancy found that by drawing her knees up and resting her weight on her head, she could come to a kneeling position and then raise herself up one leg at a time. Standing in front of the blonde, her breast thrust out due to the severity of her bondage. Nancy realized she was no longer in control of the situation. Almost in a motherly fashion, the blonde helped her to sit on a high rock and started to brush leaves and twigs off her.

"Now do we have any identification?" as the blonde did a neat job of frisking her, "Hmmmm, nothing. Well, no matter, we'll find out hack at the house. Not even a handkerchief, oh dear, and I forgot mint, oh well, no matter."

Nancy wondered what she meant by that last comment as the blonde knelt before her and started to unlace her tennis shoes. She curiously watched as the woman took off her socks now, grinning up at her, and carefully rolled one up and placed it into the toe of the other. She then stood up in front of Nancy, wadding the second sock up into a large ball.

"Open!" It wasn't so much a request as a command.

Nancy suddenly understood where her socks were going and got angry.

"Now, listen bitch, if you think you're going to gag me with my own socks, you can go climb a tree!"

The woman held up her hand as if to snap her fingers. They stared at one another in silence. Nancy opened her mouth and the blonde jammed the sock gag in. pushing it deep into Nancy's mouth but not without some sounds of protest from her victim. Nancy sat there, seething. The wad was jacking up her jaws as the blonde removed her scarf and stepped behind her.

Nancy watched the rolled-up silk scarf appear in front of her eyes and then drop lower till it found her mouth, and suddenly her head was jerked back as the scarf was pulled tight around the sock wadding and knotted. Next, the blonde appeared again in front of her. gathering the two remaining ends of the scarf in her hands and knotting it again, forcing the sock gag even deeper in Nancy's mouth, shaking her head back and forth as she knotted the scarf, pulling it tight as Nancy looked daggers at the blonde.

The blonde was now thoroughly enjoying herself, holding Nancy's head between her hands, "Such naughty language. One should be gagged if one is going to talk like that."

The condescending sound of her voice infuriated Nancy, and she tore her head away and jumped to her feet, almost knocking the blonde down. Immediately, Nancy was surrounded by the dogs. The blonde was caught by surprise but quickly regained her composure and slapped Nancy so hard her ears rang.

"Don't hurt her," the girl cried. The blonde, still furious, marched over to the girl and slapped her just as hard. Then, motioning the dogs to stay, walked past the girl and out of the trees. She whispered over to Nancy, whose cheek was still stinging.

"I'm sorry I got you into this, but please don't make it worse for yourself, please don't cross her, she's ..." The girl suddenly stopped whispering as the blonde reappeared with the girl's gag and mask. Marching straight up to the girl, and without further ado, she jammed the gag into her mouth, leaves, mud, and all. After both buckles were tightened to her satisfaction, she unhooked the girl's leash and approached Nancy. spinning her around and tying her hands palm to palm behind her. Nancy winced as the leather leash dug into her wrists. She was spun back around, and the blonde stared deep into her eyes.

"Now any more crap from you and I'll feed you to the dogs." She then stepped back and surveyed her two captives. "There, that's much better," she said as the two muted girls stared at her. Then she leaned into the girl's face and spat, "And, as for you, young lady. for pulling this little stunt and causing all this trouble. I have definite plans for you!"

The girl groaned behind her gag.

The blonde now approached Nancy and studied her, glancing at her watch.

"I planned on picking up the mail when little Cynthia decided to leave my company. After chasing around after her, it's almost time. I sure can't go now ... not with you tied for all the world to see, and that's hardly a sufficient gag ... still ... I wonder?" Nancy could see little wheels turning behind her eyes.

"Turn around!" the blonde commanded. By this time, Nancy wisely decided that she was in no position to argue. She'd kill the blonde later, when her time came, now she was going to be little Miss Obedient. She turned and felt her elbows being freed. Sudden needles

of pain shot down her arms, and she couldn't help closing her eyes and sighing with relief behind the gag. The sound of her zipper brought her back to reality. Her nylon jacket was zipped open and pulled down around her arms to her wrists, and she stared hard at the blonde, shivering a little from the cold.

"Don't worry, honey, I'm not one of those." Now the blonde stepped behind her, and her elbows were once again belted, and her wrists were quickly untied. The jacket fell to the ground, and as it did, she felt her mouth causing the material to go deep into her mouth and knotted it. Nancy couldn't believe the moan she heard was coming from her. Her jaws ached from the binding, and she was fighting for air. Suddenly, the ski mask was pulled over her head and adjusted, leaving only her eyes showing behind the nylon gauze.

The blonde stood back and, as if speaking to herself, said, "Not bad. From a distance, you don't notice the stocking, not bad, and we can take care of that." Reaching into her pocket, she produced sunglasses and put them on Nancy. The ends of the glasses held snug against Nancy's head by the ski mask.

Next, she turned her attention to the girl, pulling a large crocheted scarf from around her neck and wrapping it around the girl's lower face. It took several windings before she knotted it at the back, pulled up the hood, and tightened the drawstrings. Then, she stepped back to survey the girls. If Nancy or the girl could have seen themselves through the eyes of the blonde, they would have seen two girls: one in a cape and boots with a sensible scarf covering her mouth to shield her from the cold, and her athletic companion in a jogging suit, ski mask, sunglasses, and bare feet.

"Oops." The blonde hurriedly retrieved the tennis shoes and put them on Nancy's feet. Nancy hadn't even realized her feet were cold until she felt the warmth of the shoes, so distracted had she been by the recent turn of events in her life.

The blonde signaled for them to leave, and they stepped away from the trees, with the girl and Nancy walking side by side, surrounded by the dogs, as the blonde followed behind.

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