Ted recognized the sound. “You got a message coming in,” the cop said needlessly.
“Yeah,” said Al. “Lemme check it.” He got out his ear buds. “Don’t want to disturb anybody. Especially in here.”
“No problem,” the cop advised, returning to his paperwork.
Standing in front of Ted’s desk, Al opened his cell-screen to see Claire Holden, encased into one of the tightest, most brutal, cupless, corsets he had ever seen.
Made of high quality leather, with metal boning on all sides, it laced up the back, clipped up the front, and then also buckled up the front, with garters on the bottom holding up black stockings on her beautiful legs, ending with murderously high seven-inch spike ballet boots that laced on her dainty, fidgeting feet and buckled around her trembling ankles.
Dotty had the girl in the finished basement, a noose around her neck keeping her upright, her wrists bent high up her back by handcuffs whose chain went through d-rings attached to the very top center of the corset.
Her teeth chewed, and her succulent lips sucked, on a pulpy leather gag strapped tight behind her head.
Her eyes were huge and wild with fear, her bountiful and beautiful boobs thrust up and forward. Just as Al was afraid his cock would explode out of his pants,
Swanson came into view, looking like the ultimate “corporal punishment” teacher, slapping a thin wooden switch in her hand.
“You’ve been a bad, bad girl,” Swanson said, “and I’m afraid you must pay the penalty.”
The teacher flicked the switch perfectly across the girl’s nipples. Al was afraid everyone in the police station heard the girl’s scream. He quickly clicked the phone shut.
“What’s up?” Ted asked casually.
“Uh, nothing,” the deliveryman said, lowering his hand so it obscured the bulge in his pants. “It’s just that … um … Dotty’s got a little something waiting for me back home.” Ted looked up inquiringly from his desk. “We’re … ah … celebrating.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you tiger,” Ted grinned.
Al left the station as fast as he could, setting a new world’s record for deliveries that morning.
When Al got back, Dotty’s car was gone and the girl was nowhere in sight. Could the teacher have brought Claire with her for afternoon classes?
The deliveryman had a vision of the girl brutally bound and viciously gagged in the trunk or across the back seat wearing a cheerleader outfit or yet another schoolgirl get-up, but he quickly discarded the thought.
Swanson had sent him the video of Claire's humiliation for the sole reason of getting him back home asap. And while she had a wicked sense of “humor,” she never, despite appearances, fucked with him.
So he just stood in the living room and played a game of “what would Dotty do,” or, more accurately, “where would Dotty stash a super cute sex doll?” First, there’d be no doubt that the girl would be silenced and stilled. Despite the video, there’s no way Swanson would risk him being too late to stop the girl from reaching rescue. But second, she’d want the girl to “feel” her captivity. That means the teacher would, more than likely, “tease” her student.
Al began to think of where in the house Claire could see the street without being seen. He checked the basement where small rectangular windows dotted the wall near the ceiling. Claire was not suspended in front of any of them.
Thinking harder, the deliveryman knew that just taunting Claire with views of freedom would not be enough for the teacher. She’d want to occupy their captive in the most obvious way too. He began to move through the house, listening intently for any humming sound.
He found it on the second floor, beneath the roof eaves. While the tract house did not have an attic, it did have a crawl space.
TO BE CONTINUED