My favourite rape fantasies include being a lovely young lady of wealthy background, or good family, kidnapped, tied up and ravished by ruffians from the lower orders, for example pirates or bandits, or ruffians who lurk for the unwary.
I am, of course, always dressed in beautiful dresses or lingerie for the occasion, and sheer fine stockings are a must!
One recurring fantasy, inspired by the book Miss High Heels, has me dressed in the gorgeous long white ball-gown of a Victorian debutante. The rustling silk sheaths my figure tightly, and a lovely long train extends behind. My feet are shod in the daintiest high heels of white satin, with delicious sparkling buckles of diamonds and pearls.
Long white satin gloves adorn my arms to well above the elbows, with priceless bracelets and bangles tight at the wrists; diamond earrings and a magnificent diamond necklace complete my jewellery, and my long golden hair is piled up in a magnificent "do", held there by a tiara.
My long-lashed blue eyes survey the ballroom haughtily. Every woman glowers jealously, every man wants to dance (and more!) with me.
Rather foolishly, I decide to take a turn in the gardens unescorted, and mince my way daintily out, my tight dress emphasising my rolling hips and my long, undulating legs (which are clad in the finest white silken stockings held up by flouncy, frilly garters). Once outside, I stray towards the bushes, not realising that some ruffians are lying in wait, thinking about burgling our fine old mansion. But seeing me, my jewels sparkling in the moonlight, they see that they have an easier and nearer prize!
Before I know what is happening, four or five dark figures have sprung out from the undergrowth, surrounding me, a rough hand clamping itself on my scarlet, glossy, oh-so-kissable lips, muffling my scream before it has started.
Hands go to work, seizing me, binding my wrists and elbows behind me, others groping at my breasts, rummaging at my skirts to reveal my stockinged legs. These kick in vain as they are bound at ankle, knee and thigh, my garters causing particular delight, as does the bare white flesh above.
My eyes have lost their haughtiness, and are wide with terror. My ears are assailed by the obscene remarks of my attackers, who joke in gross detail about what they wish to do to me. In vain do I struggle, my girlish kicking and "mmmph"-ing causing even more amusement and excitement.
Once tautly bound, my jewels are ripped form me, the taking of my earrings being especially painful. The taking of my tiara causes my long blonde tresses to cascade silkily downward, to my attackers' delight. But my jewels are not all that they want!
"We'll get a fine ransom for this one!" cackles one, his arm grasping me at the waist.
"Ransom's not all we'll have", chortles another, stroking a length of silk-stockinged leg, which, bound to its neighbour, kicks in a futile manner.
Already bound by my corset and tight dress, the ropes render me even more helpless. They lift me at the waist and knees, carrying me off into the darkness, to God knows what fate...!
There I am, Miss Lavinia Forbes-Faversham, fairest debutante in the kingdom of England, worth a fortune, a fine catch for any eligible suitor...
Now being carried-off by ruffians! Trussed as tightly as any Yuletide turkey, gagged with a grimy handkerchief shoved between my cupid's bow lips.
I writhe in my tight bondage, to the delight of the ruffians holding me. After what seems an age, I am brought to a horse-drawn cart and lifted struggling into the back. A tarpaulin is thrown over me, adding the terror of darkness to my plight.
Off we go, a most uncomfortable journey, in which I am thrown about, bumped and bruised consderably.
I don't know how long we keep driving, but eventually we halt, and the tarpaulin is lifted, revealing leering faces looming over me in the light of a lantern held by one.
I am lifted down without a struggle, for by now I am exhausted.
"Let Ma have a look at her" says one.
I am carried into a two-story cottage in a forest clearing, warm and lit by a glowing fire in the grate.
An elderly woman in a plain grey dress, grey hair tied in a severe bun, turns from the fire and eyes me. Such malevolence is in that look, that I am convinced she is a wicked witch!
Advancing, she grins unpleasantly, reminding me of that strange teacher at my young ladies' academy, the one who was said to lust after girls as do men! Oh God, she frightens me!
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" her old crone's voice cackles, as a claw-like hand reaches to touch my cheek. I flinch,
"mmmph"-ing into my gag.
"Oh, she's a pretty one. Set her down, lads".
Thay set me unsteadliy on my high-heeled feet, holding onto my still-bound body.
"She had some fine jewels" offers the one who called her Ma, evidently the son. He proffers my jewellery, so roughly snatched from me.
"She's the most valuable jewel of all. She's the Forbes-Faversham girl. Ain't you ,dearie?"
Terrified, I nod.
"Ooooh, you'll be worth something, one way or another" she says, her voice ominously thick, as her horrible hands reach to caress my bosom, my bare white shoulders, my hips, and round to my tight-skirted bottom.
"MMMPHH!" is all I can manage, as I writhe helplessly in my captors' grasp.
The men laugh and pass ribald remarks, as though "Ma" is putting on a show for their entertainment.
"Untie her legs, lads. Then free her arms and cuff her wrists in front". She points towards a drawer, from which one villain produces a heavy-looking rusty pair of handcuffs. I shiver with even more fear at the sight of them!
I undergo again the indignity of having my stockinged legs mauled by these beasts, as they free me of the ropes. Likewise my long-gloved arms are freed. i am still unsteady on my feet, but the men keep a tight grip on me. I enjoy at least the relief of my restored circulation.
But then my wrists are dragged in front of me, and with a malicious cackle, the old woman snaps the handcuffs on.
"Pull the gag out, Sid" she orders, and one ruffian does just that, allowing me to breathe better, and to try and plead ....
"Oh, please let me go! My papa will pay a fortune for my safe return!" my gasping words come gushing out.
But Ma grabs my cheeks in a cruel hand, squeezing painfully, causing me to cry out in pain and fear.
"Oh we're not finished with you, my pretty! Not by a long way! Your stuck-up family has ridden over poor folk long enough! We'll have a queen's ransom for you, my girl, but we'll have our pleasure of you too! Heh heh heh!"
And those disgusting men laugh as well. Oh God, what is in store for me...?
First things first," says Ma, "we'll have that pretty dress off you".
"Eeeeeeek!" as she spins me round, grabbing at the back of my expensive, clinging white ball-gown. After some rough handling, it comes loose and falls to my daintily-shod feet in a soft hiss of silk.
Underneath I have a tight white corset, which gives me a 20-inch waist and an alluring hourglass figure, which these filthy men appreciate, with catcalls and wolf-whistles.
A petticoat goes from waist to ankles, but it soon follows my dress. I am transfixed with horror at this gross invasion of my person, and I totter on my heels, prissily going "Oh! oh!" and lifting my handcuffed hands in some kind of suppliant gesture that cuts no ice with my kidnappers.
The fall of my petticoat reveals my long shapely legs in their white stockings of finest French silk.
And my lace-trimmed silken patalon, adorned with fetching little pink rosebuds. No man was meant to see such a sight, save my husband on my wedding-night. Now these vile ruffians, and their foul matriarch, can leer and gloat as much as they like! Oh, it is not to be borne!
"Have her, lad!" cries Ma, and suddenly pushes me into the arms of her eldest son!
"Eeeek!", I pitch forward, tripping on my fallen dress and petticoat, to fall headlong into the brute's arms.
Laughing, he catches me and forces my cuffed hands back over his head, pushing us together in an intimate embrace! My body is moulded to his. I feel his hard muscles, smell his sweat.
His arms around me, as though we are lovers, he forces his lips upon mine, kissing me long and deeply, forcing his tongue into my mouth, almost down my throat. My first kiss from a man, to be delivered in this obscene way! I "mmmph!" helplessly, unable to break free, held by those terrible handcuffs.
His hands travel to my bottom, gripping my pert, firm aristocratic young globes through the thin silk of my pantalons. He kneads them, squeezes them, as though assessing their quality.
Sliding a hand beneath my undergarments, he touches my most intimate parts!
"Yeeeeeeek" I scream, tearing my mouth from his. "Let me go let me go let me gooo!"
Welded to him, I cannot struggle much, and my cries just amuse my kidnappers.
He leers now at the valley of my breasts, partly hidden by my corset.
"Ere Ma", he says "get these things off her!"
Laughing evilly, Ma obliges, cutting through my corset stays and undoing the ties of my pantalons. As these last guardians of my modesty are pulled away, leaving me nude save for my long white satin gloves, sheer white stockings and white satin high heels, my captor grips the backs of my silk-clad thighs, lifts them, one to either side of him, and bears me screaming and wriggling to the couch.
He stoops to deposit me there, still bound to him. His hands go to his own britches, fumbling at them till he frees something that presses against my womanly place.
His breathing becomes heavier. This thing feels hard and fleshy. It is something of which we have gossiped and sniggered at our Young Ladies' Academy, without fully understanding it.
But it is here and now, and he means to....!
"Nyaaaaaagh!" I scream.
He laughs as his hands fumble at me, while his "thing" pushes at me.
Oh, oh, I don't like it! My hips writhe, but this seems to give him more excitement.
"Now Missy, don't make me come too soon!" he orders in a guttural whisper.
What does he mean?
"Aiiiieeeeegggggh!" the wretched man has forced entry, his thing, now steel-hard, pushing
inside me like a weapon, bursting his way in and causing horrendous pain. He must have taken my maidenhood! So this is what it is like, I think. How horrible!
In and in, I am impaled like a helpless butterfly.
Then he begins thrusting against me, and withdrawing, thrusting and withdrawing, grunting like an animal, more pain, I can feel blood, that ghastly gang cheering and laughing.
He rides me without pity, and I must perforce remain with him by virtue of the handcuffs. Oh what a shameful sight I must present, the heiress to one of the oldest fortunes in England, being ravished by a common ruffian! My stockinged legs cleaving the air, my breasts now being gnawed and nuzzled and squeezed and bitten by my attacker. The jeering gang peering closer for a better look.
How long does the pounding go on? I am a sea of agonised pain down there, but still my ravisher rides me, stopping every so often to kiss me, bite me, grope me wherever his fancy takes him.
At last, as I approach unconsciousness, too tired to scream anymore, he rears up, tenses, grips my already bruised hips, and with a guttural "aaarghhh!" releases a torrent of hot fluid into my violated body.
What does it mean? I only know that it's disgusting!
They all applaud and cheer his efforts, as he collapses on me for a rest. Now I have his weight and his fetid breath to contend with.
"Well ridden, son! She'll give you your own son from this!" declares the mother proudly. Oh my God! So that is what it means! Oh my Dear God, what if I am to bear this fiend's child?
Slowly, my attacker lifts my cuffed arms from round his neck, and gets up from me.
He looks down on my splayed, desecrated body, now rather uninterested.
"Right, who's next?" he asks.
Who is next?
Another leering oaf looms down upon my splayed body, Sam, I think they call him. He seems mesmerised by my silk stockinged legs. My hose are light white gossamer-like things, a delicate luxury for the wealthiest and most sophisticated of debutantes. Fetched from an exclusive emporium for ladies' underthings, I don't suppose this bumpkin has ever even imagined anything so beautiful.
"Pretty legs," he croons with an idiot expression on his face, as he leans closer to them, his clammy hands appreciating my long slender thighs and well-rounded calves. Up and down my silk-clad flesh go his questing fingers.
Old Ma cackles as she holds me in position by my shoulders.
"He's never seen anything so fine, milady. Only coarse woolen stockings on poor country girls. Oh, you are a treat for him, heh, heh!"
I wriggle and griimace with disgust, never imagining that anything so obscene could happen to me. Oh, where are my family and guests? Have they not noticed my absence? Is a search-party even now trying to find me?
"Oooh pretty shoes!" goes my attacker, now concentrating on my white satin dancing slippers with their four-inch spiked heels, and sparkling buckles of diamonds and pearls. His hands gauge the height of the heels, how beautifully-arched my little feet are, the smooth satin covering them.
He puts his face to a shoe, kissing and slobbering at it, moaning with perverted desire all the while. The others chuckle with amusement, while I feel only shame and horror!
Slowly he pulls my shoe off, marvelling at my stockinged foot, which he seizes, having laid the shoe aside. My foot is subjected to more caressing and kissing. Ooh, it is disgusting, his wet mouth upon my toes!
"Mind them shoes, son. They're worth a fortune," is Ma's only comment.
My other foot gets the same treatment, then the yokel's moaning gets louder, and he starts frantically to undo his britches.
"Nyaaagh!" I scream as his rampant organ springs into view. The others cheer.
But he makes no attempt to invade my body. Instead, he starts frantically jerking at the thing in a way that has me horror-struck.
"Grrrrrrgh!" he growls, as his white sticky man-fluid shoots from him in long ropes that fall upon my stockinged thighs and calves. Oh, how I kick in horror, shrieking at the obscenity of it. But they mock me, and my attacker for his inability to hold out until he had entered me.
"I won't make that mistake, Missy", laughs a third, a bearded ruffian, whose organ is already on display as he forces my sticky thighs apart. He savagely enters me without preamble, and rapes my helpless body with even more savage force than the first brute.
More rhythmic grunting, as of a rutting animal. More helpless wails from me, more tears that move my captors not one whit. By now my handcuffed wrists have been yanked backwards over my head, leaving my breasts to his mercy. He has none. He ravages them with his teeth, making me shriek even louder, while Ma goes "Attaboy Thad! Ride the little rich bitch!"
My groin is numb with pain as Thad rides to his finish. More spurting sticky man-juice. The smell and feel of it make me want to vomit.
I am almost unconscious as Thad withdraws from me. Oh God, I have two more attackers.....!
"Turn her over, Ma" shouts one of the remaining two, and he and Ma do just that, twisting me round till I face the leering old witch again, my bare bottom thrust upwards towards my latest tormentor. His rough hands grab the pert globes, squeezing and kneading them, causing me more cries, and more laughter from Ma.
Suddenly, to my horror, I know what he is going to do!
"Noooooo!" I shriek, in vain.
My cheeks wrenched apart, Ma taking a firm grip on my shoulders, staring at me intently.
"Yeeeeagh!" my tight little fundament invaded by a steel monstrosity, pushing, pushing! I am spitted, impaled!
"Nyaaaagh!" I am pinned in place as he proceeds to ride my poor bottom savagely. Thrusting, thrusting, grunting, grunting....Oh, the shame! How proudly had I once flaunted my pert, round young bottom in tight dresses and skirts, delighting in the consternation I caused gentlemen who beheld me! Oh, I never dreamed in my wildest nightmares that it would become the plaything of common villains!
Explosion of hot fluid in my bowels, signalling the end of his violation. Oh, how I ache, tears flowing once more.
But suddenly Ma is replaced in front of me by the man who has not yet had me. He proceeds to undo his trousers, as I feel my long, now matted blonde hair plulled backwards.....!
No, he wouldn't! Surely not! Oh God, he must be mad!
"Open up, Missy!" growls Ma, hauling on my hair even more savgely as the latest monster shoves his exposed member towards my mouth!
My lips that have never evern kissed a man properly, must now accomodate a ravisher's rampant phallus!
The stink of him, the steel hard feel of his engorged flesh! I retch with disgust, but he will not be denied. To the whoops and cheers of the horrid gang, my helpless mouth is entered, violated. Ma's grip on my hair ensures no escape.
I am choking on the obscene sausage that reaches down my throat. My glossy pink lips forced to and fro along it, his leathery sac slapping against my proud chin.
He releases his spurting, gushing flood down my throat, causing me to splutter and choke, frantically trying to swallow, disgusting though that sounds.
It comes out my nose as well, so great is the flood!
He pulls away, sated, while I cough and heave, trying to get the horrible stuff out of me.
Oh surely they will leave me alone now! Surely they will release me, having had their fun!
Ma swishes a long cane through the air.
"Now it's my turn, Missy!" she declares cruelly.
I join my cuffed hands together in supplication, as I look as her piteously. I tremble, for she, I feel, shall be the worst of my tormentors!
The cane connects with my bare shoulder, extorting a scream. I have never been struck with such severity! Not since I was a naughty little girl in my nursery, and my no-nonsense governess had hurled me across her lap, heaped my frilly petticoats out of the way, and whaled away at my poor bottom with her big rough hand, had I endured a beating!
Across my other shoulder, giving me matching red weals!
Fiery unbearable pain. I cower before my evilly-grinning assailant, like a slave-girl before her cruel mistress. For that is surely what I have become!
My stockinged thigh is next. I shriek and yelp, try to get away form the blows, but the vicious cane strikes where it can, at my breasts, my back, my bottom. I stagger this way and that, already disorientated by my cruel ravishing, my cuffed hands in a futile imploring gesture.
A horrible chase around the room, my brutal attackers laughing and whooping, and encouraging the horrid Ma, jumping in my way, pushing me nearer the awful cane!
A mad world of leering faces, rough hands, searing blows!
"Aaaaaaaagh! Waaaaagh!" I cry hysterically, tears falling copiously, blinding me. Round and round that deadful room!
Dizzy, breath heaving, tottering on my dainty little high heels. Ma grins in trirumph as she reaches for my satin-gloved arm (my fine white satin gloves remain the only pristine part of my former finery; my once-exquisite stockings now torn, laddered and spattered by the filthy dried-in juice of my rapists; my shoes now scuffed and dirty), and gripping me like a vice, pulls me once more towards the couch.
"Right lads, stretch her across the back, and I'll do her pretty arse properly!"
"Noooooooo!" I howl, my eyes wide with horror, as my still-fettered wrists are pulled over the back of the couch, presenting my poor vulnerable bottom to the merciless cane!
"One!" count the cruel men, laughing and encouraging their foul matriarch. They crowd around, some spectating, some helping to stretch me helplessly for my caning.
My bottom on fire, more burning savage pain than I have ever imagined! Oh God, help me!
I am in hell!
My body firmly pinioned, hands on my silken ankles to prevent me kicking. Taut and helpless in my bondage, the smell of sweat and lust in my nostrils, that awful cane descending again and again on my poor, bare bottom!
Mercifully I faint, haveing lost count of the savage blows.
Stinging as I awake, face-down on the couch. Ma dabbing my ravaged derriere with a cloth; a strong smell of ointment; a bloodied bowl of water on the floor beside us.
"0wwww!" I go, as Ma dabs at my ruined buttocks.
"There, now, dearie! We don't want to damage the merchandise too badly!" she laughs disgustingly. The men laugh along with her.
Presently Ma finishes the treatment.
"Lift her up, lads, and bear her to my room. Tonight this lovely young filly sleeps with me!"
Oh, God! No! Please, not that!
Like a sacrificial victim being borne to a pagan altar, rough hands lift and carry me to Ma's bedroom. I am too sore and traumatised to resist as they lay me upon the bed. Ma reaches for my wrists, a key in her hand, and frees me from my handcuffs. I barely have time to rub circulation intto my wrists, before Ma waves a metal collar in my face. It terrifies me.
"This will secure you for the night, Milady!" she laughs, locking the tight collar round my slender neck. Attached to the collar are a few feet of chain. The other end of the chain is locked to the bedpost. I am helpless.
"Alright lads, you can leave us".
Looking disappointed that they cannot watch what is to happen, the brutes depart. The bedroom door is closed, the room lit my a single lamp by the bed. It throws sinister shadows around the room, and gives Ma an even more demonic aspect.
Ma begins to disrobe, to my consternation. Layer after layer of clothing are shed to reveal a woman of medium height and stout build. I cannot help but stare at her naked body, as she grins evilly and advances upon me.
"Now, Missy, let's have those stockings off".
She reaches to my garters. I freeze as she undoes them, and then draws my filthy sticky stockings down my long legs.
"Ugh, these are ruined. The lads have jizzed them well".
Jizzed? The expression disgusts me!
Then it is the turn of my long satin gloves. The ghastly old woman unbuttons them, and draws them off my arms.
Now I am totally naked, chained before my captor.
Like a man she descends upon me, snarling triumphantly. She embraces me, and forces her mouth upon mine, greedily kissing me, her tongue shoved down my throat, choking me, her hand holding my head in place.
Oh God, it's unnatural! It's evil! Oh, somebody help me!
Her body melded to mine, her hips jerking against mine. She is trying to ravish me like a man!
Finally she ceases her foul kissing, and instead plunges her mouth into the crook of my neck, sucking and slurping and savouring my flesh. I dare not resist, and anyway the collar inhibits movement. I can only endure her gross attentions.
Her hands enjoying my breasts, squeezing, pinching, tweaking my nipples, nipping and sucking at them.
Then, oh, horror, Ma goes lower and lower, to my groin! Oh no, she cannot...she must not...!
Ma's face thrust into my most intimate parts, her lips and tongue working their way into my already-violated sex, horrible sucking slurping noises. I am going to be sick!
Ma's face finally emerges, dripping with who knows what juices. Oh horrid sight!
"Now it's your turn, Milady" she laughs.
What does she mean? Oh no, no, no....!
Ma straddles my helpless face, forcing her privates towards my mouth! Oh foul smell! Oh God save me! She cannot do this....!
Ma's sex over my mouth and nose, smothering me.
"Come on now, Missy, use your tongue on me!" Ma gasps thickly, her lust evident.
No, no, it's evil.... oh I am choking to death ...I must do her terrible bidding.
My little tongue darting to do the unspeakable. Ma working her groin to me, making pleasurable moaning noises.
I cannot believe i am doing this! Only this evening I was belle of the ball, secure in the warmth of the family home. Now, I am slave to a degenerate gang, having the most unimaginable things done to me! But I am helpless and must endure.
"Aaaaagh"! Ma cries out her pleasure after what seems hours. Her awful juices in my face, my poor tongue nearly numb.
Ma collapses beside me, drawing me to herself, cuddling and caressing me, before apparently falling asleep. I am trapped in her arms, tears coursing own my cheeks. At last, my rapists satisfied, I am alone with my thoughts. I cannot sleep. I ache in every part of my body, but my soul is even more ravished. And this ghastly old woman's arms around me! That the first one to share my bed should be another woman, and an evil old crone at that!
No sleep cmes to me that awful night. Dawn finally breaks, and Ma, having snored the night away, comes to with much yawning and stretching, eyeing me with a leering grin.
"Good morning Missy", she greets me, a sardonic tone in her voice. Her rough hands idly caress my naked body, causing me to tremble, still held by the steel collar.
"Oh, you could do with a wash", she says, springing up naked and throwing on a dressing gown. Bending over, she unlocks my collar and pulls me to my feet. I can scarcely stand, so traumatised am I by my ordeal.
Ma grips my upper arm and pulls me from the bedoom, through that terrible room where I was so thoroughly violated. Out we go into the yard, I hesitant at going naked out of doors, but Ma just laughs and pulls me on.
Shivering, trembling in the yard, as Ma works a pump and fills a bucket with icy water.
"Stand still, Milady", Ma orders, and I dare not do otherwise.
Splasssh! Oooh, the awful shock of cold water over my head and down my bruised and naked body!
"Eeeeek!" I shriek, flapping my arms, trying to stay on my feet.
"Ha ha ha! That's how us poor folk wash, Missy!"
She pulls me shocked and shivering indoors, where she proceeds to dry me vigorously with a big rough towel.
The men have begun to stir. Two sit drinking tea while watching my discomfort.
"Can I have her again, Ma?" one asks.
My eyes widen with terror. No! Surely not again?
"Alright, Bartrum", says the evil old harridan. "Meanwhile I'll write a ransom note for our pretty guest".
I scream anew as the grinning Bartrum seizes my arm and hauls me off into a bedroom where two others still snore in slumber. Bartrun does not mind their presence.
"They can 'ave their turn when they wake up!" he laughs, his voice thick with lust.
"Nyaaaaaagh!" I shriek in vain as he hurls me to his bed, straddling me, pinning me down and mashing his scummy cracked lips against mine in a long deep kiss, his disgusting tongue wrapping itself around mine. His hands maul my breasts, then he pulls away from his foul kissing long enough to undo his trousers. I am too weak to resist as his exposed genitals, proud and rampant, force their way into my no longer virgin slit.
The same thrusting and grunting, then the same discharge of hot fluid. Bartrum pulls out of me, having suddenly lost interest, and leaves the room doing up his trousers once again.
I lie, staring at nothing, thinking of nothing, a lifeless vessel into which others pour their lust. The sleeping duo, awoken by my latest rape, spring up take their turn. This time, my poor bottom suffers invasion as well.
Ma puts in another appearance.
"Come on, Missy, can't waste all day on romance", she laughs cruelly, and thrusts a dress at me, a coarse grey thin of homespun, a far cry from the magnificent creation in which I had been carried off.
"Put it on. Can't have you naked, driving those poor lads to distraction".
Numbly I pull the ghastly garment over my head. Ma leads me out into the main living-room again.
"Now, Missy", she addresses me, "one of the lads has gone to slip a ransom note into your fancy house. They'll pay dearly for their little princess! But there's bound to be search-parties out for you, so we must hide you away".
So saying, she has one of her degenerate menfolk roll back a section of matting, pull at a metal ring in the floor, and so lift a trapdoor.
"Down we go, Missy", orders Ma, and I head for the darkened steps down to what I presume is the cellar.
It is pitch dark, and I descend with trepidation. Ma strikes a match and lights a lantern hanging from a beam.
Pushing me onwards, Ma directs me to a narrow bed in one corner, with another metal collar hanging form a length of chain. Evidently they are used to keeping captives!
"Onto the bed, Milady".
I obey, and Ma grabs the collar and secures it round my neck. Then she reaches for some ropes lying nearby, pulls my arms behind my back, and binds my wrists tightly.
Moving to my ankles, she serves them the same.
"One more thing", she says, and reaching for a small piece of torn cloth, she balls it and shoves it in my mouth, tying it in place with a second piece.
"Mmmmmph! Mmmmmph!" I go in vain, my eyes once more wide with terror, as I writhe in helpless bondage.
"Mmmmph away, my spoilt little rich girl", smiles Ma, "you'll not be heard down here. If anyone comes looking for you, they'll never find you!"
Laughing cruelly, she leaves me to my lonely, dark, cold captivity. She extinguishes the lantern to add to my misery.
How long do I languish, helplessly bound and gagged, terrified by the darkness, imagining rats and spiders and all manner of horror, contemplating my degradation, my abduction from all I hold dear?
Cold, cramped, hungry, thirsty. it is an age before a creak of the door and a chink of light admits Ma once more.
She advances slowly to me, a cruel smile on her face.
"Well, Missy, as I thought, they came a-searching, your dear papa, your gallant brothers, and half the young stalwarts in the county. But I played the innocent, poor old widow, sharing their shock and outrage, lamenting the disappearance of the fair Lavinia, promising to keep my eyes and ears open for news of her.
And they went off to search elsewhere! Never suspecting their lovely Lavinia to be here! Not just here, but given a good fucking by the whole house!"
She bursts into hellish cackling, while I am nearly sick with horror. My hope of rescue gone! Tears spring to my eyes.
"Come on Missy", she proceeds to undo my bonds, pull the gag from my mouth.
"Oh please", I gasp, sobbing "I beg you, let me go! I won't tell, I promise! Oh, please let me see my family again!"
"Oh no, my fine filly. You've seen us, you know where we live. You'd have the coppers here in no time! No, we mean to KEEP you!"
"Oh, yes, my little spoilt brat! Come on!"
She yanks me from my prone position, pulling me up the stairs into the house again.
"You'll serve as our pleasure, our entertainment, ....our WHORE!"
"Nyaaaagh! Nyeeeek! Let me go let me go let me go!"
I go off in hysterics, trying to run for the door, but am soon grabbed and subdued.
With a firm grip round my waist, Ma hauls me off to her bedroom, that place of my worst debauchment.
"We have fine clothes for you here , Missy" she says, throwing me on the bed and rummaging in a trunk for various items of apparel.
"Here we are, put this lot on", she orders, bending to pull my homespun dress up over my head, leaving me naked once more.
"First the corset. Now breathe in, young lady".
I have no choice but to comply. The corset is scarlet, like that of a "fallen woman", and to its suspender straps are clipped black fishnet stockings, which Ma, slowly and erotically, draws up my legs.
A diaphanous peignoir in black is added, and a pair of totteringly-high heels of black patent leather.
"Now a little makeup, Missy", and Ma pulls me to a dressing-table, where she proceeds to lay powder and rouge and kohl on very thickly.
"Stand up Missy", she commands when she is finished. I must do so, or feel her wrath.
"Look in the mirror", she directs me to a full-length glass in the corner, where I gasp with shock. I look like the veriest trollop!
Then Ma brings me forth into the main room again. Some of her loutish menfolk are lounging about by now, and they eye me eagerly. I did not think I could still blush, but I do so.
"Here she is, lads, for your entertainment and pleasure, the once-proud Miss Lavinia! Come on lads, you haven't had her in a gang yet!"
"Noooo!" I shriek at this latest outrage, as these degenerate yokels rush at me, grabbing. mauling, kissing, squeezing, biting, .....
I go down in a heap, these beasts on top of me, seekin gto enter me in front, in the rear, in my mouth, all at once...!
Ma's jeering comes from afar.
"Get used to it, girly! It's your new life! We'll have that ransom by hook or by crook, and we'll still have you!"
I cannot take in the horror of my situation. I am too busy trying to accomodate three men at once, while two others each take one of my hands, and force them to fondle their exposed genitals.
After what seems hours, they are sated. I lie bruised, traumatised, unmoving. Ma hauls me off to her bed, where I must undergo her peculiar wants.
A few days later, two return bearing a sizeable sack of money; the ransom. But there is to be no release. They wave the money contemptuously at me, then proceed to use me en masse again.
(The disappearance of Miss Lavinia Forbes-Faversham remains one of the intriguing mysteries of the Victorian era. The tale titillates visitors to Forbes-Faversham Hall even today, and countless volumes have been written about it. Theories abound: she eloped with her lover, a member of the Fenian movment; she became involved with Aleister Crowley and the Satanists, and was spirited away into their world. She was a lesbian, and ran away to live anonymously with her lover. Ma's cottage has crumbled to ruin, taking its secrets with it. But some old locals years afterwards would speak of an apparently deranged blonde woman who lived in the woods with an old woman and her crew of degenerate sons, who would occasionally babble about coming of genteel background).