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Authors: Jennifer Jane Pope
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me. You'll be glad of the cunt strap then,
and you'd better pray the hunters come up before Oona gets it off
you.'
Kitty felt
herself turn cold as she stared at the wolf-girl. Oona, seeing the
newcomer, looked up and bared her teeth, her long tongue lolling
out of her mouth in a doglike fashion. Kitty bit into her gag and
barely managed to stifle a whimper of terror as she turned her head
away to avoid the piercing, primitive stare with which the girl
seemed determined to pin her. If anything could encourage Kitty to
run, and keep on running until the last dregs of strength drained
from her legs, it would be the memory of those eyes and teeth.
When the
shadowy figures first burst into the crypt and began stripping her
bondage from her, Matilda Pennywise felt a surge of relief course
through her body, but her rising spirits were just as swiftly
dashed on rocks of despair as she realised she was simply
exchanging one captivity for another. And this one, even though the
threat of imminent death had apparently been removed for the
moment, was in many ways more frightening, and certainly more
bewildering than what she had experienced at the hands of Crawley
and his minions.
As she stood
beside the other bird-girls now, despite the warmth of the steadily
climbing sun she felt herself shivering with trepidation. She
wondered what it was she had done to offend her Maker that he had
thrown her into yet another pit of depravity and terror. At first
she assumed these people must have something to do with that awful
witchfinder, but as she listened to snatches of conversation, she
came to understand that her new captors were something else
entirely. Furthermore, as the women unmasked once they were away
from the village, Matilda had been astonished to recognise one of
them as Jane Handiwell, the innkeeper's daughter, and yet another
as Lady Ellen Grayling, the daughter of the earl and younger sister
of Sir Roderick.
Both physically and mentally exhausted from her ordeal at
Crawley's hands, it took Matilda some time to realise the full
import of her new situation. She had never seen Grayling Hall close
up before, but she had glimpsed it several times from the hill
across the wide valley, so she recognised its outlines. Looking
about her now, she began to understand just why the Graylings kept
the place so well guarded. This was a different world altogether,
and a world no normal person would ever believe existed. Where
Crawley's wickedness was based on a brutal greed, this was a
reality founded upon lust alone, or so it seemed. It was a place
where human beings were reduced to the status of animals, or even
worse to helpless playthings for the amusement and satisfaction of
people to whom morality was an alien concept. Their attitude
towards their captives was impossible to describe. Matilda knew
that not one of the men she had met so far had the slightest
interest in her as a person. All she was to them was an object, a
creature, a fucky-fucky bird as the fellow had called her when he forced the leather
plug into her bottom and tightened the strap from which her long
tail now sprang. She was a creature to be harried and hunted, and
after that... she shuddered again, more violently than before, and
fought against the salty tears springing into her hooded
eyes.
Harriet
recognised all the men who came to her in turn and used her
helpless body like slavering beasts, clearly unable to believe
their good fortune, and just as obviously not giving a single
thought to the poor girl inside the mask. The fact that they
assumed she was Matilda did nothing to lessen her ordeal; if
anything, it served to emphasise the cruelty of her tormentors, for
she doubted they would have worried who it was Crawley had turned
over to them, and even if they suspected her true identity it would
have made little or no difference to them.
In her eyes,
the five men who took her represented the worst element of their
little local society, although only one
and you'd better pray the hunters come up before Oona gets it off
you.'
Kitty felt
herself turn cold as she stared at the wolf-girl. Oona, seeing the
newcomer, looked up and bared her teeth, her long tongue lolling
out of her mouth in a doglike fashion. Kitty bit into her gag and
barely managed to stifle a whimper of terror as she turned her head
away to avoid the piercing, primitive stare with which the girl
seemed determined to pin her. If anything could encourage Kitty to
run, and keep on running until the last dregs of strength drained
from her legs, it would be the memory of those eyes and teeth.
When the
shadowy figures first burst into the crypt and began stripping her
bondage from her, Matilda Pennywise felt a surge of relief course
through her body, but her rising spirits were just as swiftly
dashed on rocks of despair as she realised she was simply
exchanging one captivity for another. And this one, even though the
threat of imminent death had apparently been removed for the
moment, was in many ways more frightening, and certainly more
bewildering than what she had experienced at the hands of Crawley
and his minions.
As she stood
beside the other bird-girls now, despite the warmth of the steadily
climbing sun she felt herself shivering with trepidation. She
wondered what it was she had done to offend her Maker that he had
thrown her into yet another pit of depravity and terror. At first
she assumed these people must have something to do with that awful
witchfinder, but as she listened to snatches of conversation, she
came to understand that her new captors were something else
entirely. Furthermore, as the women unmasked once they were away
from the village, Matilda had been astonished to recognise one of
them as Jane Handiwell, the innkeeper's daughter, and yet another
as Lady Ellen Grayling, the daughter of the earl and younger sister
of Sir Roderick.
Both physically and mentally exhausted from her ordeal at
Crawley's hands, it took Matilda some time to realise the full
import of her new situation. She had never seen Grayling Hall close
up before, but she had glimpsed it several times from the hill
across the wide valley, so she recognised its outlines. Looking
about her now, she began to understand just why the Graylings kept
the place so well guarded. This was a different world altogether,
and a world no normal person would ever believe existed. Where
Crawley's wickedness was based on a brutal greed, this was a
reality founded upon lust alone, or so it seemed. It was a place
where human beings were reduced to the status of animals, or even
worse to helpless playthings for the amusement and satisfaction of
people to whom morality was an alien concept. Their attitude
towards their captives was impossible to describe. Matilda knew
that not one of the men she had met so far had the slightest
interest in her as a person. All she was to them was an object, a
creature, a fucky-fucky bird as the fellow had called her when he forced the leather
plug into her bottom and tightened the strap from which her long
tail now sprang. She was a creature to be harried and hunted, and
after that... she shuddered again, more violently than before, and
fought against the salty tears springing into her hooded
eyes.
Harriet
recognised all the men who came to her in turn and used her
helpless body like slavering beasts, clearly unable to believe
their good fortune, and just as obviously not giving a single
thought to the poor girl inside the mask. The fact that they
assumed she was Matilda did nothing to lessen her ordeal; if
anything, it served to emphasise the cruelty of her tormentors, for
she doubted they would have worried who it was Crawley had turned
over to them, and even if they suspected her true identity it would
have made little or no difference to them.
In her eyes,
the five men who took her represented the worst element of their
little local society, although only one
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