The Hitch-hiker (Part 3)
As Hermes was driving his rig on board the ferry at Calais, some miles away, Jez was speeding south, but this time she was in a car with a middle-aged woman. Women, especially well-dressed and seemingly wealthy women, rarely offered her lifts, and Jez hesitated at first, as the Daimler slowed and stopped, just ten minutes after Hermes had left her. She much preferred travelling with men, perhaps for obvious reasons, but also because she was more comfortable with men than women. She could relax and have a laugh.
The woman spoke English, but with a strong French accent.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere special. Just following the sun.”
“Ah, a free spirit. I like that. I am driving all the way down to my holiday home near Nice. You can go as far as you want along that route.”
Jez thought for a moment. She hadn’t planned to go that far south, but it was another way of delaying her arrival in Portugal, and facing her dying father. She climbed into the car.
“I’ll tag along for the ride, thanks. Nice car, by the way.”
“Thank you. I like it. My name is Madeleine, what’s yours.”
“That’s an unusual name.”
“It’s a nickname.”
“You’re a pretty girl, Jez. You could be a model. Has anyone told you that?”
Jez glanced sideways, but didn’t tell the woman that she had recently been a nude photographic model. Was the woman coming on to her? Or was she just being pleasant? She had a brief moment of regret that she had not stated a destination, but then thought, fuck it, lets just see how things pan out. She had been with a woman before, but only when a man had been present, never in a one to one situation, and never with an older woman. But she figured that she could always make a run for it if things began to get a little sticky. Perhaps this was just an opportunity to try something different.
“So, Madeleine, you married?”
“Yes, I am. My husband is waiting down near Nice, at our holiday home. I had some business to conduct in Paris, and as I am not a good flyer, I decided to drive down.”
They drove the next few miles in silence, apart from the sound of classical music, playing quietly from the sound system, before Madeleine suggested stopping for an early lunch.
“There’s a nice restaurant in the next village. My husband and I occasionally eat there. Are you hungry, Jez?”
“I guess so.”
They had barely made it to the table when Madeleine’s mobile phone rang. She retrieved it from her handbag and glanced at the screen.
“I need to take this call. Take a look at the menu while I am away. Feel free to choose anything you wish.”
She walked away; her phone clamped to her ear, and began talking in French to the caller. Jez saw her leave the building and stand in the car park, chatting and often listening for long periods too. She didn’t feel at ease in the presence of this woman and was tempted to make a run for it, until she remembered that her back-pack, containing her money and all her belongings, was still in the car, so she remained seated, and Madeleine soon returned to the table.
“That was my husband. He just wanted to know what time we would arrive tonight.”
Why would she say we, as though Madeleine and her husband were already assuming that she would be arriving there too, when the matter had not even been discussed? An alarm went off in Jez’s head, but as usually happened, she ignored it. She could always jump out at the next stop.
They both chose a salad for lunch and, within twenty minutes, were returning to the car for the onward journey. Jez did not notice Madeleine retrieve something from her handbag, and hold it in her clenched hand. They arrived at the rear of the car, and Madeleine stopped.
“Would you just assist me, Jez. I need help to move a large package and wedge it, to stop it sliding around.”
She clicked the key fob and the locks flashed open. Lifting up the back with one hand, she put her other hand behind Jez’s back, as if to edge her forward. Jez looked puzzled, but had no time to react when she felt something sharp enter her rear end and, a second later, was pushed head first into the open trunk. The last thing she remembered before going into a deep sleep was the noise of the trunk being slammed shut.
When she regained consciousness, Jez had no idea how many hours had passed, but clearly Madeleine had stopped at some point and bound her hands and ankles. She also had a scarf tied tightly around her mouth. Where the fuck was Hermes when she needed him?
About an hour later, the car came to a stop. Jez heard the car door slam and a pause of a couple of minutes, before she heard two voices.
“You’re sure she is secure? I don’t want to open the trunk and be met with a punch to the jaw.”
“No, I made sure she was secure. Open up and let’s get her inside.”
The car trunk opened and a rather groggy Jez looked up into the faces of Madeleine and a grey-haired man, with distinguished features but cold eyes. He was as expensively dressed as his wife, for this surely was Madeleine’s husband. The two of them pulled Jez out of the car, and the man, because her feet were still bound together, lifted her and carried her over his shoulder into the house.
She was carried across a large, marble-floored entrance hall, towards a door, which, when opened, had stairs leading to a wine cellar. In the corner was a metal door, leading into a smaller room, which contained a bed and little else. He deposited her, without ceremony, on to the bed; then bent to remove her gag, while his wife stood at the door. He spoke, like his wife, in heavily accented English.
“You can scream all you like down here, but no one will hear you. Madeleine and I live here alone, and our nearest neighbour is two kilometres away. I have taken your gag away, but if you don’t behave then I will replace it with something far more uncomfortable, do you understand?”
Jez looked at him, but her mouth felt very dry and she was still a little groggy. It was obvious that Madeleine and her husband had kidnapped her, but for what purpose?
“My name is Victor, and I am Madeleine’s husband, if you hadn’t already guessed. Be aware that my wife and I demand strict obedience, and I will have no hesitation in punishing you if you misbehave. Now I intend to untie your hands and feet and you will then remove your clothes. They will not be required here.”
“Fuck you,” was Jez’s immediate response, and she came to regret her impulsiveness when Victor backhanded her hard, across her face. If she had not been on the bed she would have been knocked to the ground. Her face hurt and she could taste blood in her mouth.
Victor spoke quietly, but his voice was full of menace.
“You have acquired your first punishment my dear, which you will receive tomorrow, as it is so late now. If you do not wish to double it I suggest that you keep your mouth shut, except to say ‘Yes, Sir’. Do you understand?”
Victor’s face was so stern and unyielding that Jez realised that rebelling at this stage was probably foolish. She needed to play along for a while and bide her time, until an opportunity for escape came along.
Victor began to undo the ropes that were tied around her wrists and ankles, and Jez had to think fast. Hermes phone number was in the pocket of her jeans, and somehow she had to remove it and hide it without either Victor or Madeleine seeing her.
Victor had left the rope from her wrists on the bed while he concentrated on her ankles. In a flash, Jez picked it up and threw it at Madeleine.
“Here Madeleine, catch.”
The woman’s eyes were distracted from her as she automatically reached up to catch the rope, and Victor turned to see what had happened. In that fraction of a second Jez put her hand into her pocket, removed the paper and pushed it under the blanket. Victor turned back towards her.
“You brought a lively one here, Madelaine. It will be a pleasure for me to tame her for you.”
Jez suspected that the pleasure would be entirely his, and that her enjoyment would not be taken into account. He picked up the second rope and pulled Jez to her feet to remove her clothes. Jez was almost tempted to make a run for it, but Victor was strong and he had a firm grip on her arm. Plus she then had to get past Madeleine.
“Take off your clothes. And if you think you might attempt an escape, let me inform you that the house is securely locked and you would need a code to unfasten the doors, so your chance of escape is zero.”
Jez did as she was told, removing her jeans and shirt. She paused.
“All of them.”
She removed her underwear and stood, defiantly, with her head held high. If the fucker thinks I am going to capitulate, then he has another think coming. Victor’s eyes roamed over her body and Jez noted some swelling in his groin area, and wondered if he would act on it, but he did not. Instead he reached up to a nearby hook, where a black leather collar, attached to a long chain, hung. He quickly wrapped it around Jez’s neck and secured it with a padlock, dropping the key back into his pocket.
“This will stop you causing us any problems. It is late and we will all sleep. There is a bucket at the end of the bed, should you need it, and you may keep the light on if you wish. We will see you in the morning, when there will be the matter of your punishment to attend to.”
Both he and Madeleine withdrew from the room and Jez heard a large bolt being drawn across the door. The chances of escaping from the room looked slim. She would have to wait to see what the morning brought. She pulled the piece of paper with Hermes number on it from under the blanket, and spent some time memorizing it. If she could only get to a phone and call him, surely he would not let her down? He did say to call him if she was in trouble, and boy was she in trouble now.
The next morning the door to Jez’s cell was opened by Madeleine, carrying a tray, on which was a cup of coffee and a croissant.
“Victor told me not to feed you this morning, as a punishment for your disobedience last night. But he has had to go somewhere on business, and as you will come to learn, I am not as stern as he is. As long as you do what you are told, we will get along well.”
Jez was hungry and thirsty, so she accepted the tray and made short work of the croissant before drinking the coffee. Madeleine sat next to her on the bed and ran a finger lightly along her leg.
“You really are very pretty, Jez. I can be your friend, so don’t make me your enemy will you? Why don’t you lie back on the bed and let me show you how friendly I can be.”
Jez considered her request. So what if this woman wanted to touch her up? She was prepared to comply with her wishes if it meant that Madelaine might allow her out of this room. There was definitely no chance of escape if she remained here.
“I really could do with a bath, Madeleine. I stink.”
Madeleine turned up her nose slightly. She was a fastidious woman and was not too keen on licking a pussy that was less than spotless.
“Yes, you probably could. I will take you up to my bathroom, but if there is any funny business, Jez, you will find that I can be as unpleasant as Victor.”
She brought a key from out of her pocket and unfastened the lock holding the chain to the wall, but she did not remove Jez’s collar.
“Get up and walk ahead of me. I will tell you where to go.”
Madeleine directed her up the stairs into the entrance hall, and then up a curved flight of ornate stairs leading to her bedroom.
The bathroom was as luxurious as Jez had expected, for a grand house like this, but she did not admire Madeleine’s taste. It was far too ornate and fussy for her. Madeleine fastened Jez’s chain to the towel rail and began to run a bath, pouring some fragrant bath crystals into the water, and directing her to climb into the bath, still attached by the long chain to the towel rail. She was relieved that Madeleine made no attempt to climb in with her, but instead picked up a large sponge and began to wash Jez’s back with one hand, while her other hand moved slowly down her front, stopping at her breast. She ran her soapy fingers around it, massaging it with the palm of her hand.
“Such pretty little breasts, my dear. Victor and I will both enjoy playing with these.”
Jez made no attempt to fight off Madeleine’s attention. There was no point. There was nothing she could do about it, at least not yet. To be honest, she was enjoying the warm, relaxing bath so much, that having to put up with the French woman massaging her tits was not the worst thing in the world. Madeleine’s hand moved over to the other breast, and Jez was beginning to quite enjoy the feeling, when the doorbell rang.
Madeleine jumped up in surprise. She was not expecting anyone. She went to the window and pulled back the lace curtain a little, and looked down to see who was there. It was the postman, and he probably had a delivery, which needed a signature. She sighed, and checked that Jez was still securely fastened to the towel rail by the chain.
“Stay in the bath. I will be back in just a few minutes.”
Immediately she had left the room, Jez’s looked around for something to break the chain, but it was a hopeless idea, because it was too sturdy for anything but a strong bolt cutter. Then she spotted something that made her spirits soar. Madeleine, perhaps not wanting it to get wet, had taken her mobile phone from her pocket and had placed it on the shelf above the bath. Jez knew that time was short and she sprang up, not caring that she was splashing water around, and grabbed the phone. She tried to bring Hermes phone number to mind. She pressed the numbers, 223…no it was 233, oh fuck, what was that sodding number? She needed to calm down, or she would not be able to ring before Madeleine came back. She took several deep breaths and tried to visualise the number in her mind, and pressed the keys accordingly.
The phone rang at the other end, and kept ringing until it went on to voicemail. What if it wasn’t Hermes number after all? She left a message anyway, fervently hoping that she had remembered the number correctly.
“Hermes, it’s me, Jez. I’m in trouble. Please help me. I’m a prisoner in a big house near Nice by two people called Madeleine and Victor. Please help me Hermes.”
She heard Madeleine coming back up the stairs and quickly disconnected the call, and sank back into the bath. Madeleine came back through the door and saw the splashes of water on the floor.
“It looks as though you have been a naughty girl, Jez. This floor is all wet. I’m going to have to punish you for this. Come now, out of the bath. I think you are clean enough for me.”
Jez stood up in the bath and took the towel that was proffered by Madeleine, and rubbed herself dry. Madeleine took hold of the chain and led Jez into the bedroom. She sat on the bed and pulled Jez towards her.
“Over my knee. I think you are due a spanking, my girl.”
Jez did as she was told and leaned over Madeleine’s knee. Madeleine stroked her hand over the whole surface, squeezing and massaging.
“Oh, what a delicious…how do you say in English...I remember, it is arse, is it not?. You have such a delicious arse my dear.”
It sounded strange to Jez to hear such an inelegant English slang word come from the mouth of an elegant, middle-aged French woman. What was even stranger was that Jez was actually being turned on at the thought of being spanked by this woman, who was keeping her prisoner.
Madeleine must have noticed, for her hand strayed down Jez’s crack and found the dampness lurking there, between her thighs.
“My dear! It seems that you might be enjoying the thought of being spanked. Let me proceed, then. I do not want to keep either of us waiting.”
She raised her arm and began to spank Jez on her bottom, using firm, regularly spaced strokes.
“Ow, ow, ow.”
Jez played her part in satisfying the French woman’s desire, but, in truth, she wasn’t spanking her as hard as Jez had been spanked in the past, and the regular strokes from Madeleine were not just heating her bottom, but sending the heat way deeper into her pleasure zone.
The spanking stopped and Madeleine again pushed her fingers between Jez’s thighs and began to massage her clit. Jez could not help a groan escape her mouth. The woman might be a rich, evil bitch, but she knew how to turn a girl on.
“I know what you would like right now, Jez. You want a good hard cock inside you. What a pity that Victor is not here to oblige. But perhaps I can be of help instead.”
She rolled Jez off her lap and on to the bed, and walked over to a bureau, returning with a large strap-on in her hand. Jez’s eyes opened wide. Where the heck was this woman going to stick that? It looked huge. Madeleine dropped it on to the bed and proceeded to divest herself of her skirt and underwear, before strapping the implement firmly around her body.
“Don’t look so surprised, Jez. You know you want this, and I am sure that you have taken cocks as big as this before. Now be a good girl and get on to your hands and knees, or else I will have to take the cane to you, and you won’t enjoy that as much as my hand.”
Resistance seemed futile, so Jez turned over on to her hands and knees and presented her red bottom, and Madeleine could not resist massaging and squeezing the luscious young bottom in front of her.
The French woman climbed on to the bed behind Jez, and with little ceremony began to prod the strap-on at her pussy entrance, pushing gently at first, and then with a much harder push that forced the artificial cock deep within her. Fuck, this is big, thought Jez, as she tried to adjust herself to accommodate it. She must remember to tell Hermes that the cock he thought was bigger than most, was, in fact, just a junior cock in comparison to this.
Once the cock was well seated inside Jez, Madeleine began to pump it back and forth, babbling a string of obscenities while doing so. As these obscenities were in French, and Jez hadn’t a clue what she was saying, she could only guess what they were about, but she was sure, from their tone, that they were not sweet nothings.
Pretty soon Jez did not care what words Madeleine was using, as the cock was doing its work in turning her previously pleasant desire into a raging need. She was getting very close to her climax, and she wondered if Madeleine was enjoying herself as much as she was, and whether it was de rigueur for a kidnap victim to be getting quite so much pleasure like this.
She could not hold herself back, and came with a gasp as she felt the familiar pleasure sweep through her body. Madeleine stopped, and Jez heard her breathing quite hard.
“It is a pity that Victor is not here, for I am sure that he would now enjoy fucking your arse, as you so quaintly say in English. He likes going in through the back door, and he would make you lick my pussy while he is doing it. But, never mind, he will be back tomorrow. I can be patient.”
“Well that is something to look forward to, I’m sure.”
Her British sarcasm was wasted on the French woman. Jez, for all her cheerful swagger was definitely not looking forward to making the acquaintance of Victor once more.
Will Hermes come to rescue Jezebel? And if so, will he arrive before Victor's return? And what will he do to nasty Victor and Madeleine if he does? You will have to wait until Part 4 (the concluding part to Jezebel’s adventures in Europe.)