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From: "E S" <ellbm@altavista.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Girl in the Cottage  Part 7
Date: Mon,  4 Nov 2002 15:10:03 -0500
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The Girl in the Cottage


Part 7



"Stupid guy", that one, the rookie said. "Told him we don't tear down
heaven cause of some runaway broad and he goes: why the hell am I
paying taxes. How am I supposed to know, he can talk to his goddam
accountant."

"Shut up", said the lieutenant. "Might be there's not much tearing on
our part, there being two of us, but you don't have to rub it in.
What I want to know is: Did he shoot the broad?"

"He's a kraut", said the rookie. The lieutenant took off his glasses
and started to rub them with a piece of cloth. The rookie came
straight from the Academy and a few years of education does for a
policeman what hind legs do for a hare. But in this case the tortoise
refused to enter the race. 

"That's not an answer", the older man muttered. "This kraut, was he
able to dispose of his wife? Did he seem to be an aggressive,
dangerous, World War II kind of kraut? Or a nice bookworm kind?"

The rookie was on unchartered territory and became vague. "He was
aggressive enough", he said. "You don't know with these well to do,
slick guys."

"Anything else?" The lieutenant was polite. 

"Yeah, lots." The rookie browsed through his notepad. "No wallet,
missing person took it with her. Bike gone. Toothbrush, make up
stuff, underwear still there. Husband doesn't have the faintest how
she was dressed, except she should wear sandals, probably a mauve
skirt. Seems he didn't find those items in the wardrobe."

"Good thinking", the lieutenant said. "And the neighbors?"

"Only the farmer couple up the road. She says she had a nightly
visitor one week earlier, someone in a blue or green Mercedes. A
lover, she says."

The lieutenant frowned. "Any substance in that lover?" "Sure", the
rookie said. "Neighbor brought it up and the missing person blushed
all over. So she says."

The lieutenant saw his happy assistant leave for the car. Domestic
cases were notorious lemons, gossip and jealousy. A young broad
married to a twelve year older absentee, a travelling businessman.
That spelled trouble, but not necessarily for the police. He dialled
the district attorney.

"Hi, sorry to disturb you. No, just a piece of advice." The
lieutenant gave her a brief report. "No, nothing special", he said.
"Only I don't like she left the toothbrush. No, not residents, he
owns a cottage down the coast. All right, you talk to the judge? Yes,
I'll be down at the bank at ten tomorrow doing a check. You'll hear
from me."

It was a quiet day. A stolen boat, a brawl at the inn, and a missing
woman. The lieutenant glanced through a report in block letters.
Terrible spelling. Some tourists on a restingplace had seen a grey
SUV stop and a girl in a black top and led out to pee in a leash. The
driver was a woman in a suit, blond, in her thirties. It was not the
top that made them phone in, but the absence of the bottom. They took
down the plate number.

"Some people have all the fun", the lieutenant muttered. 

It isn't easy to pee with four people staring at you from fifty
meters. But the girl had no choice. "I won't have you pee in the
car", the blonde said, "so get on with it." The girl was squatting on
the tarmac, urine splashing on her shoes. Afterwards she was ordered
to sit on the floor, as not to soil the seat.

Three hours later the SUV turned off the highway, and after some
zigzagging on backroads it rolled in through the gates to an
oldfashioned two-storeyed countryhouse with wings on both sides, the
wings once being servant's quarters, repair shops and stables. The
gates closed automatically. 

A lean, middleaged woman in black waited in the light at the
entrance. "So this is our acquisition?" she said as the blonde pulled
the stumbling girl out of the car. "Rather vulgar attire, but that's
what you could expect from a mistress like that. Not too happy to
lose, was she?"

The blonde grinned. "Was she ever?"

Entering the house they were met by the housekeeper, a silver-haired,
square woman in a plain grey flannel dress with a lace collar. Behind
her two maids were peeking out from behind a door, both in the same
uniform. "The usual, madame?" the keeper asked. The woman in black
nodded. "Where do I put her?" "She can sleep with you, just for the
night. We don't want her running around."

The girl didn't see her new mistresses until teatime the following
day, having spent the day sewing. She was ushered into the livingroom
by the housekeeper. It was a large room with beams in the ceiling,
high windows, and furniture in dark oak. Portraits of ancient owners
was lining the walls, gentlemen with wigs, ladies in pearly gowns.
The far end of the room was cut off by a woven curtain on which deers
tried to escape from hunters.

The girl had had her hair cut, close-cropped, and she wore no makeup.
The dress was the same as the keeper's, except for the absence of
lace, simple grey flannel reaching to her ankles, buttons down the
front. Chaste and shy was the impression, except for the highheeled
shoes. 

"What about the reception?" said the blonde. "Comfortable, for a
change?" 

The girl seemed puzzled. "You mean the dress? It's itchy." 

To the older of the two ladies, still in black but with an impressive
pearl collier to match her pale face and adorn the dress, the remark
was funny. But she didn't do the talking.

The blonde went up to the girl, her voice was cool and crisp. "It's
not lined with silk you know. But on the other hand, it's not
sackcloth. We have that too, in case you fail to live up to our
expectations. We want you to be aware of your body all day. We want
you to move with grace, shoulders back, head high. That's why you
have no underwear."

"If you behave to our satisfaction we might upgrade it. You have to
earn that. And a good start is not to be rude. You say It's itchy!
like a snotty twelve-year-old. May I suggest another wording?"

"Please", said the girl.

"With your permission, madame, I wish to express my gratitude for
your concern. I'm not worthy of such a beautiful dress. How's that?"
The blonde raised the girl's chin with a tip of the finger. "We want
yor little titties tender, you see. But if you scurry around like a
brat they will soon be raw. Very raw."

The girl didn't dare to look her captor in the eye. "I didn't mean to
complain", she whispered. "It's a very nicely cut dress, but..." She
stumbled on the words. "I mean ... I didn't ask to come here, I have
an exam pending on Monday, please... I want to go home..." Tears
welled up.

The older woman laughed. "Did you hear that", she said to the younger
one, "she's just as stupid as she's meek. No right, indeed." She
turned to the girl. "Look now, do you really believe we brought you
here just to send you back to that bore of a husband you have? Yes or
no?"

"No", she whimpered.

"Then why do you ask? Do you ever put yourself the question if he
wants you back? A slut who spreads her legs to anyone who pushes her
over, who seeks out anyone with a whip? I doubt it." 

"I won't tell anyone", pleaded the girl. "Please let me go."

Nobody paid her any attention. The keeper unbuttoned the dress and
took it off the girl's shoulders. She had nothing on except for the
black stockings held by garters just above her knees. The blonde
touched her mound. "Ouch", she said. "Not very inviting, it's like a
pig."

"We have to let it grow", the keeper replied. "In a week or ten days
perhaps, we can remove it permanently." The blonde nodded. "Let's
make her ready."

The curtain was withdrawn. The only piece of furniture in the far end
of the room was an oak table, six by four feet, and some candelabra.
A dining table, but with no chairs around it. The girl was laid down
on the table on her back, tied tightly, head over the edge. 

"Now listen", said the blonde, "we want you to wear some jewellery,
as we find collars vulgar. You have a beautiful neck and I want to
see it and feel it every day. And a leash doesn't need a collar, does
it? You could have a ring in your nose, but we won't be out walking
that pretty little head of yours, we will be out walking your little
ass."

The girl looked terrified. "Those items are tested for allergy, and
perfectly safe", added the blonde. "No reason to whimp."

The woman in black went over to the head end of the table, raised her
skirt and when she had the girl's head between her legs, she let her
skirt down again to cover her. "Start lapping", she said and slapped
her breasts. "Get going." And when the girl finally had her tongue up
her cunt she began to work the girl's nipples. 

The keeper held a needle in the flame of the candle, then handed it
to the woman. The woman pinched the girl's right nipple and pulled it
out, then drove the needle straight through it while clamping her
thighs around the girl's head. The wriggling soon stopped and the
muffled howl was replaced by a low whining. 

"Now lap away or you will be very unhappy", the woman hissed rubbing
her cunt against the girl's face. She steady her with both hands.
"Get going", she said, "or I'll make porcupines of your sorrylittle
tits. Your choice."

The girl searched out the folds in the hairy bush, following them
back and forth. The woman closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh.
"Yes", she growled, "go on, this honey is yours. You love it, you
little cuntlicker, don't you?"

The blonde was coolly watching the girl's reactions. A trickle of
blood on the breast, very little. She felt the girl up with a finger
and said: "You're right, she's responding. A natural whore. Do you
want me to bring her off?" The girl had raised her butt and pushed
against the probing finger.

The woman shook her head and signed to the keeper to come closer. Her
lips formed the word "next". She was handed the second needle while
grinding the girl's face, breathing hard, wet sounds under the skirt.
She shuddered, pressed the girl's nose up her cunt and clamped down
on her again. 

Growling from lust she forced the needle through the outstretched
left nipple and then, when the contractions became weaker, she lay
down on the girl, resting her head on her hip. The sweeter smell of
the girl mixed with the muskier from the woman.

The blonde helped her on her feet. "Worth it?" she mumbled in her ear.

"Unbelievable", said the woman. "You easily get carried away, these
small virgin tits are exquisite  ... tenacious, hardwired, you know.
Not easy to force your way through... Years since I did tits like
that, must be when I did yours... remember?"

A shadow passed over the blonde's face. "Seems the girl fainted" she
said. 

"Do you want to apply the last one?" the woman asked but the blonde
shrugged her shoulders. "Don't care for that, you do it." "You don't
care for the small pleasures in life", said the woman. "Not good for
your digestion, you know."

The woman went over at the end and pinched the hood over the girl's
clitoris while the keeper prepared the third needle. It went through
smoothly provoking but a single jerk from the girl. "Caps", said the
woman and was handed three minuscule cylinders to secure the needles. 

"I want her back when she's properly prepared", the woman said to the
keeper. "It might take a week or two. During that time you're
personally responsible for her."
The keeper smiled. "Shall I wake her up, madame?" 

The girl was dressed, but the dress was left unbuttoned below the
waist and the foils were tucked up with a clasp in the back, leaving
her cunt bare. When the girl was capable of standing up the blonde
addressed her.

"Now you have to learn the rules of this house. Do you understand me?"

The girl nodded and the blonde continued.

"The rules are very simple. You should obey every superior, whatever
they command. At present everyone is your superior, you are at the
bottom. So you have to obey everyone, without hesitation. If you
behave well you will be promoted and others will serve you. Is that
understood?"

"Yes, madame", the girl said, her head bowed.

"However, noone is allowed to punish you except the mistress of the
house. Slapping or spanking is not punishment, that's merely
correction. Or something you do for fun. But only the mistress is
allowed to whip you."

"In case you think of getting in contact with the outside world or
escape, don't. It will be the last thing you do. I only need the
scrappiest little piece of circumstantial evidence to jump to a
lethal conclusion." The blonde took hold of the girl's neck, pressing
the thumbs into her windpipe. "Do you believe me?"

The blood left the girl's face and she began to sway. The keeper
steadied her.

"So just adhere to the rules", said the blonde. "I came here seven
years ago, and as you see, today I'm able to travel and bring home
little pidgeons. Now say after me: I will obey my superiors..."

The girl, after some prompting from the keeper, repeated the rules
and after properly thanking the ladies she was escorted down to the
servants' quarters, where she was received by the other girls. 

"Those girls know what to do", the keeper told her. "They will take
care of you and you will have your own room. A light supper will be
served at eight. And then you'll need some sleep, the working day
starts at six tomorrow morning." 

The same afternoon - but 200 miles away - the clerk, a respectable
woman in a shaggy cardigan, knocked at the lieutenant's doorframe.
"We have a visitor, shall I show him in?" 

"Thank you, Gladys. Do."

The visitor was above medium height, a welldressed man in his late
thirties with a tan. He presented himself and sat down, without
waiting for an invitation. The two men looked at each other. "Well",
the visitor finally said. "I happened to lease a Mercedes a week
ago."

"Oh", the lieutenant leaned back. "So you're the ... friend?" The man
confirmed it. 

"Not of the family, I understand?" 

"No, not of the family."

"I see." The lieutenant frowned. "How the hell do you know we're
looking for a  Mercedes?"

"I was approached by a young officer of yours outside my hotel who
suggested I was involved in the kidnapping of a young lady. Rather
than having that discussion in a public place I decided to pay a
visit to you."

The lieutenant rubbed his eyes. "You know the lady has disappeared?"

"Yes. I happened to meet her husband who evidently was very well
informed, too. He claims I bought her a `slut outfit', end quotation,
and you will probably see him soon."

"Did you?"

"It's a matter of taste. The guests on that dinner found it quite
appropriate."

"Gladys!" yelled the lieutenant. "A bucket of coffee and some
sandwiches." And he turned to the visitor. "I think we should have a
long, good talk."

Two hours later the air was heavy with smoke. The lieutenant opened
the window to let some of it out. "Gladys doesn't approve of smoking,
you know." He lit his pipe again. "I have a bad feeling about this. I
don't want to offend you, but would you say this girl was ... how
shall I express it ... fed up with her husband, living out some
fantasies? Say, a bit on the kinky side?"

The visitor seemed embarrassed. "In a way, perhaps."

"What way?"

"She liked..." The visitor was uneasy now. "She liked to be
dominated."

"Oh", said the lieutenant and went through the scrapped notes in his
basket. "Did you by any chance buy her any latex top, too, or
anything similar?" The visitor shook his head in confusion. "Do you
know anyone with a grey SUV?" Another negative. "Nothing particular",
the lieutenant said with a grin, "just a wild idea, a shot in the
dark."

"Are those two questions somehow related?" queried the visitor.

"As I said, a shot in the dark. Or perhaps two. You'll hear from us,
I will have Gladys send you a washed-out summary of our conversation.
Just sign it. It's for the records."


SORENSEN

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