Spoiled Heiress Gets Kidnapped Ch 03

INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - Contenders for the title of Britain's dumbest criminals, Rod, Nick and Dwayne have already found out the hard way that when abducting spoiled rich girl Harriet to extort a ransom they didn't take into account that she would need to go to the toilet.

Something else the trio of twits also didn't think of is that girls need to have their panties changed daily, and within a few days Harriet's knickers are pretty dirty. Getting her some clean knickers to wear shouldn't be an overly difficult task, but in the hands of these stupid crooks it doesn't go very well to put it mildly.

Please note that this story series contains themes of urination, scat and menstruation, so if female bodily functions aren't your thing, it might be best to give it a miss. Otherwise, please enjoy Chapter 3, rate and comment, and look for more chapters in coming days.

*

When I awoke the next morning, it was to the sound of rain falling outside and me thinking I was back in my flat and that yesterday was all some sort of weird and vivid bad dream.

However, as I woke up more I became aware that it was not a dream, and I was still very much a captive in this crappy house, my legs and ankles bound. My mouth was dry, and I needed to go to the toilet. My predicament put me in a bad mood, and jumping off the bed I repeatedly slammed my shoulder against the door, while shouting, "Hey, hey, hey!" as loud as I could.

It had the desired effect. Rod, Nick and Dwayne entered my bedroom.

"What's your fucking problem, Princess?" Rod grumbled.

I glared at him. "I need to get a drink and I need to go to the toilet, okay?"

"Okay Princess, don't get your knickers in a twist. Dwayne, take care of her," Rod ordered.

Like yesterday, I had to shuffle on my bare feet down the hallway to first the kitchen where Dwayne gave me a glass of water, then to the bathroom where Dwayne pulled down my jeans and panties and sat me on the toilet.

I began to pee, the yellow urine splashing into the toilet water and sulking my vulva. Dwayne stood over the toilet staring at my pussy and down at my knickers as I was peeing, and it pissed me off no end.

"Dwayne, stop staring at my knickers and my fanny!" I snapped angrily, to which Dwayne sheepishly looked at the ceiling.

My pee stream abated and died down to splashes and dribbles, leaving me with a wet pussy. As I stopped pissing a gush of wind came out of my vagina and I fanny farted, the sound echoing in the toilet.

Dwayne's immature sense of humor kicked in and he laughed at me. I glowered at him. "What's so fucking funny?"

"Harriet, you just farted," he laughed.

"No, I queefed," I corrected him.

"Queefed?" Dwayne looked totally confused, not that it was unusual for that imbecile.

"I fanny farted," I said impatiently. "I farted from my pussy, not my arse."

"That's weird, can only girls do that fanny farting thing?" Dwayne wanted to know.

I gave him a look of contempt with my icy blue eyes. "Of course only girls can do it, because only girls have a fanny to fart from!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

I looked at the toilet roll. "Stop talking about my fanny, get some toilet paper and wipe it."

Dwayne obediently unwound three sheets of soft, pink, super absorbent three-ply toilet paper from the roll, and wiped my pussy with it, the better quality loo paper absorbing my piss better than the single-ply nightmare on the roll yesterday.

As soon as he dropped the wet toilet tissue into the bowl between my open legs I said, "This is a proper fart."

With that, I farted hard into the toilet, my anus staying open and my shit came out of my bottom with a mighty rush. Brown feces that were sticky, messy and very, very smelly went everywhere in the toilet, my shit staining the toilet and I could feel my messy warm excrement all around my rear opening and on my bum cheeks too.

Dwayne looked dismayed as my shit continued to splash into the toilet with loud farts as I pushed my excrement out of my rear end, the overwhelmingly bad smell filling the bathroom.

Finally, my poo had finished coming out of my bottom - for now. I leaned forward on the toilet so my abductor would have easier access to my dirty bottom to wipe me.

"Don't just stand there, get some toilet paper and wipe my arse!" I snapped angrily.

"Um Harriet, are you in a bad mood this morning?" Dwayne asked as he unwound some toilet paper from the roll.

I laughed sarcastically. "Now Dwayne, why would I be in a bad mood?"

"You seem angry." Dwayne wiped some shit from my bum with his clumsy fingers, the only consolation and a small one considering my complete indignation was that at least this toilet paper was soft and absorbent unlike yesterday.

"What would I have to be angry about, Dwayne? I'm really happy. I just love being a kidnap victim sitting on the loo having a shit with my knickers around my ankles and having a fucking idiot wiping my bum because my hands are fucking tied and I can't do it myself!"

I glared at Dwayne as he again wiped my bottom, my shit going all over the toilet tissue and the smell getting even worse.

"I thought you might not be a morning person or something, Harriet," said Dwayne.

"Yes of course, an abducted girl who needs one of her kidnappers to wipe her bum for her is in a bad mood because she's not a morning person rather than because she's been kidnapped and held for ransom in a fucking shithouse slum."

Dwayne like yesterday was having a hard time wiping my arse despite better quality toilet paper, and again began to wipe me the wrong way. "Not near my cunt!" I snapped angrily.

"Sorry Harriet," Dwayne said. He got more loo paper, and I felt the soft tissue against my anus. I could also feel that I had more wind in my back passage, and just to be a bitch I farted on the toilet paper.

"Oops sorry, that slipped out," I said.

"That's okay," said Dwayne. He dropped that piece of toilet paper smeared in my poo into the toilet, then unwound some more.

When I had just farted I could feel more poo inside my bowels, pressing against my anal sphincter and the walls of my rectum. As soon as Dwayne applied the new toilet paper to my bum, I defecated and the feces came out of my bum with another fart and an almighty stench. My poo went all over the pink toilet tissue, Dwayne dropping the toilet paper I had shit all over into the bowl and stood back, looking at his hand in horror.

I looked in some satisfaction at what I had done. Not only had my excrement gone on the toilet paper, the smelly brown poo was now all over Dwayne's hand.

"Harriet!" Dwayne exclaimed.

I put my sweet innocent look on my face again. "Sorry, that slipped out like before, it was an accident. Excuse me."

"That's um, alright, Harriet," said Dwayne, still mortified at my poo being all over his hand.

"Believe that and you'll believe anything Dwayne," I said disparagingly.

"So um, Harriet, should I wash my hands now or wait until you've finished on the loo?" Dwayne asked.

I glared at him. "Wash them now, moron."

Dwayne did just this, and looked most worried as he returned to the toilet to wipe me again. "Don't worry, I won't fart or shit on you again, I'll be a good girl," I promised.

Again, Dwayne got toilet paper and wiped my bum. "Nearly finished Harriet," he said, when the brown shit stains on my toilet paper diminished.

"Nowhere close," I said. I farted, and released a massive turd from my rectum, followed by smaller but messier lumps of feces, which added to the stink in the bathroom.

Dwayne was right back at square one in wiping my bum, and looked at a piece of toilet paper covered in my shit during this process. "Harriet, your poo has little bits of carrots in it," he observed.

I glared at Dwayne. "That's because I was eating carrots you idiot."

Finally my dirty bottom was wiped clean and I stood up off the toilet, Dwayne flushing the toilet and my urine, poo and shit-stained toilet paper went down the drain. Dwayne pulled my knickers up followed by my jeans, and then we both washed our hands at the sink, Dwayne leading me from the very smelly bathroom.

Rod and Nick joined us outside the bathroom door, my glare at them indicating that they were not my favorite people.

"Jesus Dwayne, how long does it take to wipe her arse?" Rod complained.

"And that fucking stinks even worse than yesterday, Jesus Christ. How can that spoiled brat stink out the toilet so bad?" Nick complained. The smell had followed me back from the toilet, and Nick closed the bathroom door to prevent any more of the stench from my bowels drifting down the hallway.

"Um, Rod, Nick, Harriet's in a really bad mood this morning, I wouldn't annoy her," said Dwayne.

Rod and Nick laughed. "Poor little princess," sneered Nick.

"Yeah, untie my hands and say that, and I'll give you another black eye," I said, indicating the bruising to Nick's face.

"Yeah, that's why you don't get your hands untied again sweetheart," said Rod, the scratches I had inflicted on his face evident. "And remember, give us too much trouble and you'll be going in the Thames."

"Jesus fucking Christ, if I hear one of you say that one more time ..." I stormed.

"Yeah Dwayne, she is in a bad mood this morning," observed Nick.

"Did you do something to piss her off, Dwayne?" Rod asked.

Dwayne was indignant. "Me? No. I just helped her go to the toilet, that's all."

"If you think I'm in a bad mood now, just wait to see what happens next week if you haven't been arrested before then," I said.

Rod, Nick and Dwayne just looked blankly at me, none of them catching my drift at all. Obviously there was another factor they didn't think of when abducting a girl. Or maybe they simply didn't think that pretty girls got their periods? When I got mine next week it would be bad for me, but probably worse for them given what a bitch I was when it was my time of the month. But I wasn't going to warn them about that. And if they thought I made a bad smell when I had a poo now, obviously they had never been into the toilet immediately after a menstruating woman had been sitting on the loo having a shit.

My abductors seemed to believe that a healthy breakfast was important and I was given a bowl of bran flakes to eat, covered in some god awful powdered milk, which Dwayne shoveled into my mouth, me feeling indignant at having to be fed like a baby again. There were morning shows on the TV which we sat watching, then at noon came the report that I had been looking for.

The female newsreader said, "A missing person's report has come in just a short while ago concerning the puzzling disappearance of Harriet Holmes from London." A recent photograph of me wearing a blue frock and standing with St. Paul's Cathedral in the background appeared on the screen, and the newsreader continued. "Miss Holmes, aged 19, is the daughter of Keith Holmes, one of Britain's foremost business leaders. She was last seen yesterday morning at her London home, with her mobile phone found abandoned several miles from her residence. Miss Holmes was reported missing after failing to make contact with family or friends for pre-arranged engagements. If you have any information regarding Harriet Holmes or have seen her, please contact ..."

The numbers were given for people to contact if they knew anything about my whereabouts.

"It's on the news already, like I said yesterday you need to send your ransom to my father before this gets even more out of hand," I said. "Seriously, Mr. Blobby could have done a better job at kidnapping me and claiming a ransom from my Daddy than you three cretins."

"Shut up, and it's not up to you Princess," sneered Rod.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg, you should see how much media coverage this is going to get when I don't turn up," I pointed out.

"Yeah, we'll see," said Nick disparagingly.

"You will," I promised them.

*

Rod, Nick and Dwayne did indeed see. Media coverage of the complete disappearance of Harriet Holmes filled every channel and the radio over the next three days, and Rod had gone out on a rainy Friday morning and purchased a newspaper, me splashed all over the front page.

I had hoped that the saturated, round the clock media coverage would have led the police straight to the door and I would have been rescued sooner than later. Rod, Nick and Dwayne were so fucking stupid that they would have to have left some clue. And given they had abducted me in a bright purple van in broad daylight from just outside a London park, surely somebody must have seen something.

However, it seemed that fortune had been on the side of my kidnappers, and nobody turned up to rescue me and arrest my abductors, nor did anyone else seem to have any useful information. All they could say was that the last known sighting of me was at the park from where I was kidnapped on Tuesday morning.

"Fuck, if I hear one more word, just one more word about Harriet Holmes I going to go down on the Underground and chuck myself under a fucking train," Rod complained as Dwayne walked me down the hallway to the toilet on Friday night.

I sneered at him. "Well, if you don't want to hear about Harriet Holmes on every television network, radio station and newspaper, maybe you shouldn't have abducted her in the first place."

"Dwayne, get her to the fucking toilet and away from me, I am not in the mood for her fucking shit tonight," Rod growled.

I shouldn't have been used to a man pulling down my knickers and jeans, sitting me down on the toilet so I could have a piss and a shit, and then wiping my bum for me, but unfortunately after three days of this - and my abductors feeding me things like cheap pizza and curry that stimulated my bowels - I was very much used to it.

It was raining heavily outside, but the sound of my yellow urine stream going into the toilet water was louder in the lavatory. Dwayne wiped my wet pussy for me, then stood over me as I defecated, feces splashing down into the toilet, my bum getting dirty and the smell of female farts and girl poo filling the bathroom.

When the poo finished oozing out of my bottom, Dwayne got some toilet paper to wipe my arse and I looked down at my knickers. Having been wearing the same panties since Tuesday, they were now in a pretty disgusting state, pussy stains all over the double cotton saddle.

"Dwayne, you're going to need to get me some clean knickers," I said.

"Sorry Harriet?" Dwayne asked as he circled some toilet paper around my poop-hole.

"I've been wearing the same knickers since Tuesday, they're disgusting now and I've probably got a smelly fanny as a result. See for yourself."

Dwayne dropped the dirty toilet paper into the bowl and turned his attention from my back bottom to my front one, and he looked at my lowered knickers. 'It's just stains," he said, his expression clearly indicating that he thought I was making too big a deal of it.

I sighed in annoyance on the toilet. "I can't believe I'm telling you to do this, get down and smell my knickers for yourself."

Dwayne looked nervous. "Are you sure?"

"Just do it!" I snapped.

Dwayne did as he was told, and put his face into my knickers. His face registered dismay as he sniffed my cunt stains.

"Would you want to have sex with a girl whose fanny smelled as bad as that, Dwayne?"

Dwayne shook his head. "No Harriet."

"That's why you or your brothers need to get me some clean knickers, so I can change my underwear every day. My pussy won't smell so bad if I get to wear fresh panties."

As usual, Dwayne looked nervous and uncertain. "I'll have to go and get Rod and Nick and see what they say."

"And of course, you have to get your brothers to advise you on the smallest things," I said as Dwayne left the bathroom, and I remained sitting on the loo with my knickers around my ankles and the stench of my own shit rising up from the bowl.

Dwayne soon entered with his older brothers, and I sighed deeply as both of them looked at my twat.

"So, what are you complaining about now, Princess?" Rod asked.

"My knickers are very smelly, I've been wearing them since Tuesday and I need to change them," I said. "You need to buy me some fresh panties to wear."

"We don't need to do nothing, you need to sit there and keep your trap shut sweetheart," Rod warned me.

"Yeah, you're too fucking spoiled, that's your fucking problem darling," said Nick.

"I really need clean knickers, that's not being spoiled" I insisted.

"Um Rod, Nick, she's right," cut in Dwayne. "Earlier I smelled her knickers, and her fanny smells really bad. Why don't you smell her knickers too, and see for yourself?"

"Don't mind my dignity at all," I said indignantly, continuing to sit on the loo as Rod and Nick both got down and sniffed the saddle of my dirty knickers.

"She don't smell great, but she can live with that," said Rod.

"Yeah, I've fucked birds with smellier cunts than hers," said Nick.

I fumed on the toilet, furious at not getting my own way, something I wasn't used to. "So that's it, just no? You're going to get twelve million pounds thanks to me, and you can't even buy me some fresh panties when I need them? Fuck you."

"Stop your fucking whining, bitch," said Rod.

"All you have to do is buy me a few pairs of cheap cotton knickers and change them for me every day," I said. "Then you wash the ones that I was wearing, and I never run out of clean underwear."

"And even if we did, we'd have to untie your ankles each time, and we can't trust you," said Nick.

"I won't kick you, I won't try to escape, all I want is clean knickers to wear every day," I said. "You both smelled my pants, they smell fucking awful."

"We don't care darling," said Rod. He turned to Dwayne. "Finish wiping her arse, then get her off the toilet and back to her room, I'm fucking sick of her posh bitch voice."

Rod and Nick left the very smelly bathroom, and Dwayne looked at me uncertainly. "Um Harriet, do you need to do another poo?"

"No!" I snapped.

"I think I wiped your bum properly earlier, didn't I?" he asked.

"How am I supposed to fucking see if there's any shit left around my bum?" I spat. I leaned forward on the toilet. "Check for yourself."

I sighed deeply as Dwayne looked between my bum cheeks and at my anus. "No, I don't think so you're all good," he said.

"Then get me off the toilet and pull up my knickers and jeans, do you think I want to sit on the loo all night smelling my own shit?"

Dwayne did as he was told, getting me off the toilet seat and flushing away my piss, poo and dirty toilet paper smeared in my shit. We washed our hands, before I shuffled on my bare feet back to my room, and I lay down on top of the bed as Dwayne locked the door.

I sat up, and I took a sniff of my underarms, smelling body odor. This wasn't surprising, I had been wearing the same clothes since Tuesday and hadn't taken a shower.

I then put my face between my legs and took a sniff. My fanny smelled so bad, and even through my jeans and my knickers I could detect the smell of unwashed snatch. Worse, I could still smell my own shit from my recent session on the toilet. That fucking idiot Dwayne had better have wiped my bum properly. Around my anal area I felt all yuck and I shook my head fuming. If I found tomorrow I had skid marks in my knickers, then there would be hell to pay.

Earlier in the week, I had found it hard to sleep fully clothes and with my wrists and ankles bound, but now it was more used to it, and drifted off while still fuming about my dirty knickers.

*

The next morning, I could feel my bladder bursting and the feces in my rectum pressing against my anal sphincter when Dwayne came to give me a glass of water and take me to the toilet. I shuffled down the hallway on my bare feet to the bathroom, and stood at the sink as Dwayne brushed my teeth.