"Making coffee Boss" Maurice answered in his simple way.
"I didn't mean that blockhead – What's she wearing that for?" He approached Penny who by now was clutching the shirt to her body to stop any impending attack. Robbie scared he,r and if Daddy was having trouble raising the cash, who knows what this madman was capable of. Robbie lunged at his quarry, he was too quick for her and he reached up under the hem of the shirt to grab a handful of pubic hair. He pulled hard.
"Come here Bitch!" She screamed and let loose of the garment and began pounding Robbie's face with both fists. He held firm and she yelled out in pain from his assault on such an intimate area.
"I'll let go of your fanny when you take that shirt off" he said in answer to her cries. She fumbled quickly at the shirt buttons, and let the garment drop to the floor. Robbie relinquished his grip on her pubic hair and she rubbed the affected area. It was very painful. Meanwhile, Robbie grabbed a kitchen chair and thrust it into the middle of the room.
"Sit down Posh Tits –Tie her up Bert, you know how I mean, like we discussed, properly" Bert carefully threaded the rope around Penny's ankles and fastened them to the chair legs. He then brought the rope underneath up the back of the chair securing her left wrist to the chair back, looping back round to her left knee; thus forcing her thigh outwards. He repeated the operation on the other side, leaving Penelope helpless and with her legs thrust apart, her secret places were on full view. She looked up through red tear stained eyes. Such humiliation had she suffered already at the hands of this monster? What degradation has he got in mind for me now she wondered?
"Cut all of her hair off, got to show that bastard we mean what we say" Robbie announced once Penny was securely tied. She yelled out in protest.
"No, please not that!"
Robbie stood in front of the helpless woman "Listen Posh Cunt, although it don't look that posh to me" he prodded the shotgun between her open thighs and rested the barrel just inside her labia. "Perhaps you would rather us send Daddy a finger or perhaps a nipple" he tweaked her right nipple with the gun. Penelope said nothing. She felt devastated as Bert began to hack away at her golden tresses with blunt kitchen scissors, and cried as great clumps of hair fell to the floor.
"When you've finished that, shave her cunt; might as well show the old boy we really mean business!"
Penelope wanted to scream and struggle in her bonds but she remained still, not being exactly confident in Bert's skill with scissors. She hung her shorn head in shame when Maurice began soaping the luxuriant growth between her legs, and wept openly as the razor got to work.
………………………………
The police constable that intercepted the second parcel took it straight to Inspector Dodds who was standing by Lord Bostock-Palmer. The police did question the courier but as he could shed no light on the source of the package he was later released without charge.
"Hair!" James held his head in his hands and was near to tears.
"It is your daughter's hair then Sir?" the policeman asked.
"Yes, Inspector" Margaret added as she rummaged through the brown paper wrapping,
"But Penelope is blonde I don't understand what this other hair is in here" Then she saw the photograph of Penelope strapped naked into a chair with her head shorn, looking like a refugee from a Nazi concentration camp. Directly beneath her shaven pubis was a newspaper with today's headline 'Heiress Still Missing'. There was a message in felt tip written across her stomach: WHAT'S LEFT TO CUT OFF? Margaret fainted and as James went to help her, the Inspector took charge of the photograph.
For the remainder of her time in captivity, Penelope was kept naked, even when Robbie went out, which was often, he warned his colleagues "Keep the bitch nude! - I want see her bald cunt and tits on show when I get back or I'll have your guts for garters, both of you.." Bert, and particularly Maurice, were fearful of Robbie, he had a violent temper but had always seen they right in the past, so they had stuck with him. They were kind to Penny, however, best they could. They brought meals to her in her room, but as Robbie had removed all the sheets and duvet from the bed, even that didn't afford her any privacy. They gave her some cream to help with the shaving rash brought on by Maurice's clumsy efforts with the razor, and tried to comfort her when her predicament caused her to snivel and whimper with the indignities she suffered. It was far worse for the captive when Robbie was in the cottage. Then they watched her every move. The bathroom door was wedged open and whenever she visited it she always had an escort in tow. Robbie seemed to take great pleasure in watching her piss, he even took photos. "Just a little insurance" he'd say "In case you're thinking of describing us to the cops – I'm sure Daddy wouldn't want these falling into the wrong hands" he laughed loudly. Penelope knew they had a complete photographic record of her imprisonment at the cottage; a documentation of her degradation and humiliation.
The drop had been arranged for early morning, just after the banks were open. This time Penelope began to panic once she knew. She had been dreading this moment; she had expected the police to have traced them by now and feared the worse. Would they kill her, or rape her even, now that she was of no further use to them. Robbie could obviously see that she was troubled but left it until the last possible moment before telling her of their plans.
"Don't fret yourself Bitch – we'll let you go, but you'll have to stop here and wait for the cops. We're going to South America" he laughed that raucous laugh of his and pulled the kitchen chair back into the lounge. This time he placed it facing the front door of the cottage and told the naked woman to sit. Bert did his stuff with the rope whilst the other two busied themselves, packing things away in the Land Rover. Robbie returned with his felt tips and drew circles round his captive's nipples and in then in large letters across her chest he wrote: LADY PENELOPE and below that he the words POSH and TITS one word on each breast. He drew an arrow down her stomach pointing to her shaven mound and above it scrawled POSH BALD CUNT. He stepped back to admire his handiwork and then smiling his toothy grin he placed one hand on the untidy bristles of her head and the other under her chin, he pulled her head back and planted a kiss on her lips. It was foul; she could smell the nicotine and stale beer. When he released her she coughed and spat to rid herself of his evil stench. He merely laughed at her discomfort reasserted his grip on her head and wrote the word SLAG in large red letters on her forehead.
"Not such a posh tart now are you bitch? –Lady Penelope Posh Tits", he read from the humiliating body writing, "Quite catchy that", he added as he pulled the Polaroid from his jacket. "Just a couple more for the album" and the flash dazzled her tear damp eyes as he snapped from various angles close ups of her anatomy. He showed her the shots he had taken and left one balanced on her knee, she shook it off - it disgusted her.
"Wait a minute" he said, as if Penny was able to go anywhere," I have an idea. He rushed back into the large bedroom and dragged out a full-length mirror and took great pains to hang it on the rear of the front door, opposite Penelope.
"While you wait to be rescued you can look yourself and admire your posh tits and bald fanny. Love your hair by the way" he laughed cruelly and left to continue his packing.
Maurice did manage to give the distressed Penelope some food and water whilst the others were occupied. She refused at first, but Maurice encouraged her. "Come on love you don't know how long it'll be before they find you. I'll tell them as soon as it safe though, honest" Penny sobbed "Hey cheer up you're still alive, you're loaded with dosh, so what is there to be upset about?" Penelope almost smiled at his naivety; he seemed oblivious to her chagrin and mortification. She chewed on the sandwich he had made for her and drank a little of the water. Although Maurice's intentions were nothing but honourable, she still felt dirty and sullied having to be fed like a baby.
"Hey Maurice leave the posh slag alone, we've got get going" It was Bert who was calling to him. Maurice kissed Penelope gently on her cheek and went out to join his friend. Robbie put in a final appearance to confront his victim for last time.
"Bye Bye then Posh Tits, we're all off to collect Daddy's money now. I'll leave the door unlocked. I'm sure if you scream loud enough someone might hear you" He walked over to the door then added slowly, with emphasis "Even- tu- ally".
In fact it was some twelve hours before anyone found Penelope. The police had indeed put a trace on the money and the kidnappers were apprehended before the reached the airport. Unfortunately Maurice was carrying the gun and he was shot during the arrests, so it was several hours of questioning later that Bert finally cracked and gave the police the exact location of the cottage.
Penelope was at the edge of madness. Her screams for help went unheeded, the cottage was so remote. She wasn't sure she wanted to found like this anyway, but she yelled nonetheless, only stopping because of exhaustion or to weep when she caught a glimpse of the hideous vision of herself in the mirror.
As the door to the cottage opened, the sight of a naked heiress strapped to a chair facing them; legs cruelly stretched apart and the word 'Slag' blazing out from her forehead greeted the police. She was half asleep and had obviously been in distress for some time. The carpet beneath her chair was soaked in urine and she was sitting in her own excreta. She was untied and wrapped in a blanket to be escorted out to the waiting van. A constable saw the Polaroid that dropped to the floor; he picked it up and handed it to Penelope.
"I believe this belongs to you Miss" he said.
Penelope just cried.
©BlackRosewing
