Home In The Range






The sky was slightly overcast as the two women rode over the fields, moving as one with their horses as they covered the rolling ground as fast as their mounts would allow.  There was nobody else to see for miles around, but as they approached a long stone wall that ran the length of a hill top they saw a number of people walking in a straight line.


They stopped for a moment, allowing their horses to catch their breath as they looked at the slowly moving line.


“What do you think is going on mother,” Helena Balcombe said as she leaned over and patted her mount’s neck.


“I’m not entirely sure,” Jocelyn Balcombe said as she took her riding helmet off and ran her fingers through her grey hair.  It was held back in a pony tail by a black band, the stray hair or two falling down her cheeks as she sat there.  “Perhaps if we went over and asked?”


Dismounting, the two women walked, over, their boots crunching on the frozen ground as they walked.  Jocelyn was in her late forties, but had the build of a woman ten years younger.  She was wearing a tight black sweater under a green gillet, the wool forming to the shape of her 38D chest as she walked down, white riding breeches and black patent leather riding boots.


Helena was twenty, and looked like a younger version of her mother, with the exception of her jet black shoulder length hair as opposed to her mother’s greying locks.  She had a green riding jacket on over her red jumper, open slightly to show her breasts and the neck rolled up to keep her warm, and skin tight canary yellow breeches, the legs tucked into knee length brown boots.


As they approached, they saw the lien was in fact of police officers, who seemed to be searching the ground.  Jocelyn recognised the local sergeant, who walked over as they waved.


“Afternoon, Mrs Balcombe,” he said as they came closer, “Enjoying the day?”


“We were, Jack - what’s going on?”


“Lad’s escaped from the local detention centre - not dangerous, but we need to get him back as soon as possible.”


“Well, good luck,” Jocelyn said as she climbed back on her horse, “We’ll let you know if we see anything.”





The sun was beginning to dip over the horizon, the skyline turning a brilliant red, as Helena closed the stable door and patted her horse on the nose.


“I’m heading back to the car, mum,” she said as she looked in on Jocelyn rubbing down her mount.  “See you there in five minutes?”


“All right, Helena,” Jocelyn said as she looked up, “I’ll be along in a few minutes.”


As she approached the black Range Rover a few minutes later, Jocelyn could see no sign of Helena, but she assumed that she was just sitting in the front seat of the car.  Walking round the front, the darkened windows gave no indication of the inside, but why should there be anything wrong?


As she opened the driver door, however, and started to come in, Jocelyn got the fright of her life.  Helena was sitting on the back seat, her eyes wide as she looked at her mother.  There was a thin knife pressed against the neck of her red jumper, and the hand holding the knife led along the arm arched round her neck to a young man, staring at Jocelyn as she stared back.


“Get in,” he said quietly, “and drive - or your daughter gets it.”


Slowly, Jocelyn climbed into the vehicle, settling behind the wheel as she fumbled with the car key.  “Please,” she said quietly, “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt my baby.”


“Your baby is a great looking woman,” the lad said, “but that’s not important just now.  Just drive - take me to your home.  She’s already told us there’s nobody else there just now.”


“What happens after that?”


“MUMMMM,” Helena squealed as she felt the blade press against her throat.  “Just get going,” the lad snarled as Jocelyn started the engine and headed out of the yard.


“I take it you’re the lad that escaped from the borstal?”  Jocelyn said as they headed down the driveway that led from the stable to the main road.


“Borstal?  What sort of place is that?”


“Young Offenders Institution...  Kid’s Jail...  Youth Detention Centre...  What the hell do they call these places these days anyway?”


“Oh - yes, I am, and you need to keep your eyes on the road,” he said as he looked down on Helena’s chest, her breasts rising and falling as she tried to stay calm.  As the dusk fell on the road, he looked out at the passing traffic.


“Turn left at the next junction,” he said as they passed a sign for a picnic place, “and pull in.”




“Just do it,” he said as Jocelyn turned into the deserted car park.  “Stop here,” he said as Jocelyn braked, turning the engine off and sitting perfectly still.


“What are you going to do,” she said as she looked in the rear view mirror.


“Keep looking forward, hands on the wheel,” he said as he looked at Helena.  “You,” he said as he let go of her, “lie face down on the back seat and put your hands behind your back.”


Looking over the back seat, he pulled a tool box towards himself and opened it, his eyes flitting between the box and the women as he reached in and found a roll of black tape.  “Put your hands behind your back,” he said as he put the knife down and tore the end of the roll loose, “and cross your wrists.”


“You don’t have to do this to me - I’ll do whatever you say,” Helena whispered as she slowly moved her hands together behind her back.


“Yes,” he said as he looked down,” you will.”  Pushing the sleeves of her jumper up, he pressed the free end of the tape against Helena’s wrists and wrapped it around both of them, securing together as Jocelyn tried to ignore the ripping sound of the tape coming away from the roll.


“Please, for God’s sake don’t hurt my baby,” Jocelyn said as she watched the man in the rear view mirror, seeing him shuffle down and pull her daughter’s legs up before wrapping the tape tightly around her booted ankles.


“Just keep looking forward, mummy dearest,” he said as he glanced at her, before dropping Helena’s legs down on the leather seat.  “Roll over,” he said as he pulled a handkerchief from his mouth and wadded it up, “I need you to be quiet for the rest of the journey home.”


“Please, dontmmfmmfmddfmg,” Helena said as he pushed the cloth into her mouth, before wrapping the tape round her head, pulling it between her teeth to keep the cloth in place.  She watched as he climbed out of the car and into the front passenger seat, pressing the knife into Jocelyn’s side as he said “Now, mummy, let’s go home.  I’m hungry and I’d like you to cook some food for me.”


Hlpmmmeee,” Helena whimpered as she twisted round on the back seat, the leather of her boots squeaking as they rubbed against each other and the upholstery.  Jocelyn looked over her shoulder and mouthed “I’m sorry,” as she turned the engine back on and set off.




The drive from the main road to the house was in darkness, the black night sky only broken by the headlight beams as Jocelyn made her way towards her own front door.  Approaching the front door, she stopped in front and turned the engine off, the sharp point pressing into her side as she removed the keys and handed them to their kidnapper.


“Excellent,” he said as he looked over at Helena.  “Now, very slowly, get out of the car and walk round to me.”  He opened his door and watched as Jocelyn slowly walked round, standing as he opened the rear door and pulled her daughter out, and her muffled screams as she rubbed against the leather the only sound as he lifted her up and hoisted her over his shoulder.


“Inside,” he said as he pushed Jocelyn forward, bringing Helena with him as the older woman fumbled for the door keys.  Opening the large oaken door, she stepped in and turned the lights on as he kicked the door closed behind himself, Helena shifting on his shoulder as they walked towards the kitchen and he took something from the wall.


As Jocelyn turned the light on, he placed Helena on a kitchen chair and used his knife to cut the tape away from her face, pulling the handkerchief out as he did so.


“Right, mummy,” he said as he pulled a chair next to Helena and sat down, the knife visible in his hand.  “I’m starving, what can you give me to eat?”


“I want your promise you won’t hurt my child.”


“I promise I will if you don’t start, darling,” he said as he stood up and walked behind Helena, Her eyes widening as he put the knife against her throat.  Jocelyn swallowed hard and turned to the fridge, opening it as he smiled at her preparations.


“I’m going to cut you loose,” he whispered into Helena’s ear, “but you need to sit absolutely, perfectly still, with your hands on the table or I will make you strip completely.  Understand?”


“Yes,” Helena whispered as she felt he rankles and wrists part.  Rubbing her skin, she placed her hands on the table and watched him as he walked round and sat on the other side of the table, looking at both of them the whole time.




Jocelyn sat still, her hand in Helena’s as they watched the young man drain the bowl of soup and put it down with a loud thump.  In front of him lay the shotgun he had taken from the hallway when they had entered.


“Ah,” he said as he sat back and tore a large mouthful of bread from the loaf on the table, “that’s good.  Now, what am I going to do with both of you?”


“You could just go,” Jocelyn said angrily as she let go of Helena’s hand, “and let us get on with our life.”


“Oh I’ll go in a little while,” he said as he smiled, “but I need a little rest first, just unwind.  Tell me, mummy, where do you keep your rope?”


“Rope?  I think there’s some in the store cupboard in the hallway - why?”


“Be a dear,” he said as he stood up and walked towards them, “and go and fetch it.  Your little girl can stay here and keep me company - and if you try anything stupid, I’ll make sure she pays the price.  Understand?”


“Please, mum,” Helena said as he looked at Jocelyn, “I don’t want him to hurt me.”


“All right,” the older woman said quietly, “wait there.”  She stood up and walked out of the kitchen door, returning a few minutes later with several coils of rope that had been sued to fix things to the roof of the range rover.


“Excellent,” he said as he forced Helena to stand up, “Let’s go into the front room.  Make sure the curtains are closed before you turn any lights on.”


The trio walked slowly down the corridor, their captor standing with Helena as they watched Jocelyn draw the heavy velvet curtains over the windows before turning on a large standard lamp.  “Throw the ropes on the chair there,” he said as he squeezed Helena’s arm, “and then you can lei face down on the seat this time.”


Jocelyn walked slowly over to the long recliner in the centre of the room and sat herself down, before lying on her back and turning herself over, her head resting on her hands as she watched Helena been pushed towards another armchair.  “Sit down,” he said as he walked over and picked up the ropes, “and don’t move unless I tell you.”


“What were you in prison for,” Helena said as she sat herself gently down.  She watched him take his knife and cut a length of rope off, before he said “Burglary - and the fact I liked to tie women up without asking permission first.  Now, I need you to do something for me.”


“What,” Helena said as her eyes widened at what he had just said.


“Take this rope,” he said as he held it out, “and tie your wonderful mummy’s hands together behind her back.  Make sure it’s nice and tight - I think it will be better for you to do it to her than me.”


“But I don’t... Mum, please don’t make me...”


“Calm down, Helena,” Jocelyn said as she turned her head, “I want you to do it to me.  So long as you are safe, I don’t mind.”


As she said this, she lifted her head and moved her hands behind her back, holding her hands together as she did so.  Slowly, carefully, Helena wrapped the rope around her mother’s wrists, keeping it over the dark cuffs of her jumper.  Jocelyn stopped herself from gasping as she felt her wrists been pulled together, turning to watch their tormentor as he smiled on both of them.


“Now this length,” he said as he handed Helena a second length of rope he had cut, “and let’s see if you can make your mother’s elbows touch.”


“You can’t be serious,” Helena said as she looked at him, but the look in his eyes convinced her of his intention.  “I’m sorry, mum,” she sobbed as she passed the rope up her arms, and pulled it tightly around them just below her elbows.  Jocelyn let out a gasp as she felt her arms been drawn back, forcing her shoulders back as well as she felt the wool of her jumper stretching over her chest.


As it was, Helena almost managed to make her mother’s elbows touch, which seemed to please their kidnapper as she watched her pass the rope between her arms.  As he cut another length off, Jocelyn rolled over onto her back, her breasts clearly showing through the stretched jumper.


“Ankles next,” he said as he handed Helena a third length of cord, “and make sure it really is tight.”  He watched as she stood up and walked to the side of the recliner, Jocelyn looking down as she passed the rope round her brown leather boots and pulled them tightly together.  The leather squeaked as her legs rubbed against each other, and the rope pulled the hide into her legs, her ankles firmly secured as she tied the rope off.


“Now what,” Helena said as she stood up.  “Now,” the young man said with a smile, “you come over here and stand with your back to me, hands behind your back.”


“Just do as he says, Helena.” Jocelyn said as she tried to twist her ankles round, the squeak of the leather louder than before, “and then we might be able to get rid of him.”


Helena nodes as she felt her wrists been crossed and tied together, the rope digging into her skin s they were tightly secured together.  “Does it have to be so tight,” she said as she looked over her shoulder, only to see him wrap more rope around her arms and pull them together so that her elbows were touching.  The result was immediately apparent to her, as her jumper stretched over her chest, her breasts forced forward as her shoulder blades were pulled back.


Jocelyn watched as her daughter starting to pant, trying to deal with the restriction around her elbows as best she could.  The situation only got worse as the man unravelled more rope and used it to pull her forearms tightly into her side, the rope going round her arms and chest below her breasts, then above, alternating three or four times as her chest was encoded in two bands of brown on red.


“OH god,” Helena breathed as she felt the rope tightening around her body, her binder passing it under her arms and around the loops to secure them together.  As she felt them pressing her breasts up, she could almost see the nipples under the tightly stretched red wool, despite the bra she was wearing.


So when he reached round and grabbed her breasts, she found herself not screaming, but moaning slightly.  Her mother, on the other hand, had a different view, as she cried out “Leave her alone, you sick little man.”


“Oh,” he said as he walked over to her, “Did I forget to mention I also showed the ladies I bound pleasure as well?  No?  Would you like some?”


“No,” Jocelyn said as she tried to move back from him, "Just please go and leave us alone.”


“No - I think you need to be quiet,” he said as he held up something else he had found in the store cupboard.  Jocelyn began to shake her head, saying “no, please don’t do that,” as she heard the ripping sound, and saw the white rag that he had balled up in his hand.


“OH yes,” was his only reply as he held her nose, waiting until she had to open her mouth before pushing the cloth between her teeth, then smoothing the grey tape over her lips, placing more strips on top as the older woman’s cries  were slowly more and more muffled.


“Just stay there, mummy,” he said as he grabbed the frightened daughter by the arm, “I’ll be right back.”


“Mum?” Helena said in a small, quiet whimper as she saw her mother twist round and try to call out for help, before she was dragged out of the front room and up the stairs, struggling in his tight grip as he forced her into her bedroom.


“Now,” he said as he looked at her with an evil glint in his eye, “lie down on the bed, and we’ll get you comfortable.”







Jocelyn turned her head and looked at the young man as he walked in, a pillow sack jangling in his hand.


“Nice collection, mummy,” he said as he put the sack down and knelt next to her, “I’m sure the insurance will pay handsomely.”


Whrshlne, ultllbstrd?”


“Your little girl?  Oh, she’s nice and safe upstairs.  But I wanted to make sure you were happy as well.”


Saying this, he rolled Jocelyn onto her stomach and pulled her bound ankles up, making her yelp through the tape as he pulled them so far back she could almost touch the heels of her black riding boots.  Shthttbbgfdmdmgmdffdm,” she mumbled as she looked over her shoulder, watching him as he used rope to secure her ankles to her wrists, and then rolled her over onto her side.


“I’ve got to go now,” he said as he held the car keys in front of her, “I’m sure someone will come and find you - eventually.”  Smiling, he stood up, and was about to leave when Jocelyn called out “Atttt.”


“Yes, mummy?”


Pls, brng hlne dwn hr wf m.”


He looked at her wide eyes, before nodding and walking to the door, leaving his sack on the coffee table as he did so.  She watched as he walked up the stairs, and then heard her daughter’s muffled cries as he carried her down over his shoulder, bringing her into the front room and laying her on the Persian rug in front of Jocelyn.


Helena’s legs were encased in a net like arrangement of rope, her ankles tightly secured side by side; the coils cinched between her legs, then ropes crossing over and over up her legs towards her waist.  Her wrist were also held against her back by rope, but Jocelyn could see that the rope had also been taken between her legs, pulling her yellow breeches up into her crotch and rubbing every time that she twisted round.


Her cheeks were puffed out, and her mouth had obviously been stuffed, before a riding scarf had been pulled between her teeth, the horse pattern visible in the centre of the knot that rested between her teeth as she bit down.  Her eyes were covered in tape, as she tried to move her head in the direction of any sound that she heard.


As she tried to twist round, Helena could feel the rope rubbing against her in all the places it was secured, the squeal of her boots only matched by the squeak deep indie her as the rope rubbed between her legs.  The panties he had stuffed in stopped any legible sound coming out, but most of all she just wanted to be with her mother - and now that she had been put down, she could hear her saying “mbbbe, mprrbbbe” over and over again,


“Enjoy yourselves, ladies,” he said as he picked up the sack and left the two women, tears rolling down Jocelyn’s cheeks as she lay there, too scared to move in case she rolled off and injured herself, but wanting to help her struggling daughter as much as she possibly could...






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