Stiffkey BluesChapter 4 Storyboard
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Stiffkey BluesChapter 5: Fieldwork free porn video
In Mill Cottage, Angela was looking out of the window at the top of the stairway. The view stretched across the cottage's small garden and beyond to the great, broad, expanse of marsh that divided them from the low ridge of the sand dunes fringing the beach a mile a way. A small group was making its way along the bank beside the ditch that ran from the mill towards the sea. "Who do you think they are?" she said to Krysta, who was coming up the stairs behind her.
Krysta peered over her shoulder. "Hmm," she said, "raincoats, binoculars ... Well, they're either a bunch of perverts or, more likely, twitchers."
"Twitchers?"
"Sorry; bird watchers. We get a lot of them along the coast here. Looking for the latest rarity blown in from the North Sea. There's a hide further along The Drain." She pointed along the ditch that ran beside the cottage and on down to the coast. "They are probably off down there."
"Oh, right. Seems a bit late though. It will be dark in an hour or so."
"There's no accounting for twitchers," Krysta said. "If they hear there's something unusual around they'll be dozens of them turning up in no time. Mind you it's more likely they're installing themselves so they can catch the last of the birds flying in at sunset."
"Well, rather them than me. It looks cold out there. What are we doing this evening?"
"I think we were planning to get together in a minute or two downstairs and decide. I think Celia fancies a trip along the coast to a pub, but I'm not sure about the others."
"OK I'll be right down, I'll just drop this off," said Angela, waving her notebook as she headed off to her room.
When Angela got down to the living room, Celia, Madeleine, Krysta and Penny were all sitting deep in conversation. "Looks like there's two schools of thought," Madeleine said. "Celia fancies a trip out. Krysta and I are hoping to work on a new story together. I think Penny wants to stay here too?" Penny nodded. "But Celia doesn't really want to go out on her own." Celia nodded too.
"Well," said Angela. "I don't mind a trip out if you want a companion."
From the bird watcher's hide on the marsh two pairs of binoculars were focussed on the cottage rather than on any of the wildlife. They watched as two of the girls emerged from the house got into a car and drove off. They watched as another of the girls walked down the garden and into the summer house that was perched between the garden and the marsh. Reg turned to Deirdre. "Coop a taiy?" he said holding up a thermos flask. She nodded it was cold in the hide and they still had a while to wait. They watched as the sun began to slip towards the horizon. Then it was time to move.
Madeleine was the first one to fall victim to the attention of Reg and Deirdre. It was sunset, she had been sitting in the summer house at the end of the garden enjoying the last of the afternoon's sun as it glinted on the water of the ditches and ponds of the marsh. She was jotting down ideas for her next story, wrestling with a particularly irritating piece of plot that had her heroine smuggling herself into the prince's palace where she was determined to join his harem.
As she emerged from the summer house the sun, low in the sky, was dazzling. She didn't see the black garbed figure approach her from behind, where he had been hidden by the summer house. The first that she knew of the assault was when a heavy cloth was clamped over her mouth and she felt herself being spun around and dragged behind the summer house. She tried to strike out but her assailant had gripped her so that her arms were clamped to her sides. The strength of her attacker carried her forward towards the wind pump tower. The cloth over her mouth half stifled her and she was finding it harder and harder to breathe, partly the result of panic and partly the effect of the grip of her attacker.
She was pushed to the floor and while one hand gripped her wrists behind her she felt something being tied across her mouth, cramming the heavy cloth back into her throat. Ropes were being pulled around her wrists and, at the same time, her ankles. Two attackers, she thought, terrified.
"Is that gag alright?" one of them asked.
"Yeah, sure," responded the other. A woman's voice this time. "That cable tie will keep the cloth wadded in. She won't make much noise."
Madeleine moaned in an attempt to prove them wrong. She didn't succeed. All that came out was a muffled, garbled, grunt.
Her assailants hadn't finished though. More ropes were tied around her as she was rolled this way and that. Her elbows were pulled almost together behind her back. More rope locked her arms against her body. More bound her knees — in spite of her struggles and squeals as the man pushed his hand between her legs to thread the rope through. Then, worst of all, there was the painful jerk as her wrists and ankles were pulled closely together by more rope tied between them.
Myra
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