Illness on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Jenna’s Final Journey

Sun, 27 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from Part One

Part Two

Chapter 4

There the casket remained, Jenna coming around at least once a week, usually on the Tuesday night and she’d happily climb into the box, Ted locking her limbs but on at least one occasion realised his hands had brushed her breasts while lowering the girl into the collar. To prove that theory on the next visit she arrived early and stripped off her skirt and blouse. Wearing her best underwear and was in the box, kneeling and ready. Gagged and blindfolded with her ankles already done. Ted had come in and saw Miss Rennie there…

Heather in the Highlands

Mon, 21 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part three

Part 4. Chapter 1. It had been a long a bitter winter for Heather McCreadie even though she was safely underground. The girl woke after every ‘sleep’ praying this would be the day he’d come to see her. Even a shouted word or two down the vent pipe would be a start but all she’d endured was silence. Heather sighed and dressed herself, wearing what was still her favorite of Jenna’s outfits now it seemed to be getting warmer again. The black thigh length one, adding the high heels that she had got used to over the years. The ghosts ensuring that little of her stuff wore out once replaced in the wardrobe. Now she slipped next door for a drink and her breakfast. This of sliced bread and… well today it would be honey as she’d had jam yesterday. A look in the other jar and yes, the level was back to the top. She sat down and not for the first time recently Heather McCreadie began to cry. The tears flowing as she remembered the fine summer days, especially those of last year. When James had brought her up beyond the hatch and she’d discovered the castle hall had been turned into a dining room. A table and two chairs with champagne and a picnic feast. It’d been lovely to sit in fresh air and eat though she did wonder what the occasion had been for. Trying to be happy on discovering this was her five-year anniversary took a monumental effort. Even James realised he’d made a mistake as her face crumpled. At one point he thought she was going back down, unable to face it but as usual Heather proved her fighting spirit as she finally smiled. “Yeah, but as I’ve said it’s better than the alternative! Get the wine open pet.” Going through with the meal… and what followed downstairs afterwards. Now she’d just be happy to hear his voice as it felt like months rather than weeks since he’d left with her screams ringing in his ears. That had been traumatic enough for her, as she’d become used to the limited freedom he’d allowed her. With the front access door locked Heather now had the run of the castle during the summer months. He’d even created a studio upstairs in the tower for the girl to sit and do her drawings. But the last two visits had not gone well, and when James hadn’t returned having forced her below stairs after the second it somehow worried Heather that maybe he’d abandoned her after all! The first of the two he’d arrived but seemed a little distracted, plus the weather hadn’t helped. Heavy rain and a bit windy and he’d apologised saying he was busy and couldn’t stop long after all. They’d planned a whole day and now it’d been spoiled, James saying that there was a chance of some very bad storms coming through the area in the next few days. “This is nothing love to what they’re forcasting,” explaining that the remains of a bad hurricane were crossing the Atlantic and due to hit the whole of Scotland head on. While this happened a few times a year, this particular hurricane had caused devastation on the Eastern seaboard of the States and Canada. Many people had died despite warnings and now it was coming this way. “Well Claggan’s probably survived worse,” she quipped. Only for James to scowl at her. “Yeah, but for those of us up top it’s not so easy to deal with.” Which might be a little harsh on Heather but she paused then apologised for being flippant. He gave her a cuddle and did the same, but told her she should spend the next couple of days packing up the tower studio please. The girl dreading the winter to come as it might mean she’d… have to remain under the hatch for up to four months. She’d agreed to do that, got a hug then started after he’d gone. Emptying the cupboards and carrying the lightest of the chairs and stowing them in the manacle room. But the weather didn’t let up and the wind got so bad she was not able to get the heavier bits down the slippery staircase. So when James returned, this time in a really wound up state they had the first row in years. “Bloody hell love, I did ask for everything to come down, and all the way too. Not the manacle room but in there!” he said pointing to the first of the rooms by the hatch staircase. Now Heather knew he’d said no such thing and protested. It wasn’t her fault and he hadn’t told her. “Right well come on,” he urged, leaving her behind while he went to the tower letting Heather move the bits downstairs from the manacle room. Unfortunately she tried to do this wearing heels. He found her tottering slowly along the corridor, almost falling over as she changed the snaplocks and James lost his temper. Snapping at her to hurry up and get into sensible footwear. “What’s the hurry love?” Heather asked having changed into sneakers. The girl alarmed on finding out that the storm wasn’t decreasing as expected. This would be the first direct hit of a hurricane for over a century. “I’ve got a lot on my plate so don’t need to worry about you as well. There’s even talk they’re gonna start evacuating parts of the Western Isles, Oban and Ft William in the next twenty-four hours. Any low-lying coastal bits are in danger. I’ve got a whole bloody farm to sort out, plus Wally needs help. Now get moving!” he barked, slapping her backside none too gently. That was too much for her and instead of going faster Heather petulantly began to slow down. It took him a few trips to realise she was playing up despite his repeated urging, seeing her unpacking boxes rather than shifting the next lot and took action. Catching her bending down he grabbed hold of Heather’s arms and snaplocked both wrists behind her back. She screamed at him to stop but the lad threw the girl over his shoulder then carried her into the bedroom and dropped Heather on the bed, holding her one-handed as she tried to resist. Grabbing the chain from the wall with the other he wound it round the frame a few times till only a short length remained then attached it to her collar. Removing the other one off her leg as she tried to kick him. He smirked telling her to stop struggling then secured her ankles together. Leaving her lying there unable to even sit upright. “THAT’S for misbehaving! You had enough warnings. If you shut up wailing missy I might free you before I have to leave. Got it?” That did break through her rage at what he’d done and Heather just lay there sobbing as he walked out of the room. Slamming and bolting that door too. All she heard over the next hour or maybe more was him moving stuff around, up and downstairs until he returned and came in. Seeing her distraught and helpless, her eyes red with tears. She didn’t even flinch when her wrists were freed then her legs. Miss McCreadie waited till he’d put the chain onto her ankle then freed her neck and got up. Ignoring his outstretched arms offering an apologetic hug then walking past him to go and use the toilet. “OK, suit yourself lassie,” he said shortly. Heather didn’t reply and left him standing there. Coming back she made a half-hearted attempt to apologise. Stopping when James said this time he’d have to put the hatch down on her. “No,” she replied, her face paling by the second. “I’m honestly sorry for playing up, I just didn’t think. Please don’t… just lock the corridor and the front one instead. What if it floods down here? If only the first door is done then I might be able to break it down or… well…just… don’t leave me down here,” she whispered clutching his arm. But he wasn’t in the mood and refused. “Sorry but I cannot risk it Heather. The drains are perfectly adequate. Now I need to go.” Then turned and walked out without offering her a kiss. Quickly she followed, changing snaplocks but he was faster. Passing the passagway door and flinging it shut in her face. She screamed at James not to do it but the echo of the bang drowned her voice. The bolts were slid across then a key secured her inside as she continued begging him not to leave. Instead he passed through the manacle keys and told her to remove her wrist and ankle cuffs. Heather paused and he said if she didn’t hurry up then they’d remain on her limbs. Now the girl complied, unlocking each but instead of passing them one at a time she gathered the four and stuffed them through the bars together then bounced the key off his head as he’d bent down to pick them up! “You don’t care about me anymore,” she wailed as he came up, eyes blazing with anger. He couldn’t understand why she was doing this. Didn’t she realise the danger he was in? The drive back to Braemore was going to be treacherous enough and he could feel the stronger breeze even down here. “Perhaps I care too much,” he retorted and turned away. Ignoring her banging both fists on the door as again she pleaded not to be locked downstairs. Calling him a bastard and other rude names as he hurried upward trying not to cry. He couldn’t help it as her voice taunted him so he let the chain run freely instead of through his hands. Cutting off the hysterical last screams as it slammed down on the girl he still loved whatever she did or said. James cried all the way home, only the fact it was pouring with rain as he did the gate did he manage to disguise this once drying off in the kitchen. June was concerned but he fobbed her off saying one of the gates had slammed on his fingers. Showing her the marks actually caused by punching Claggans’ walls in a rage on the way out. Ordering the castle ghosts to look after his beloved Heather… or else. Chapter 2. That was the last time he’d visited and she was convinced it had been her fault after all. She spent so many hours over the next few days just sobbing, praying to the ghosts. Even they seemed to leave her alone and at one point for the first week the boxes didn’t refill themselves and Heather had to start a rationing plan. Candles too burned until she was down to the very last one. That night she went to bed and prayed that whenever he did return that she’d do anything he desired. Next morning Heather awoke, just the one candle barely alight with an inch to go, flickering in the breeze that seemed very strong considering where she was. But she could see the others had regrown and quickly she lit them, sobbing with thanks as things got brighter. Once dressed she went next door, checking the boxes and her heart surged to see they were full again! Since then she’d prayed every day for James and his family. Today Heather did the washing up then was about to head into her sitting room when a familiar sound reached her. Moments later she was delighted as the hatch chain began to run, squeaking slightly as it obviously hadn’t been oiled for ages. The girl trembled and reached for the corridor chain, almost forgetting how to clip it on her collar. “It’s been that long dammit,” she growled, her emotions all over the place but trying to put a happy face on as footsteps came slowly downstairs. Not the usual hurry however and he looked through the bars to see her standing there. “All secured?” he asked and Heather was shocked. Not even a flicker of emotion or recognition and despite this she nodded. He couldn’t still be angry after last time? The door was unlocked and bolts drawn back then he pushed it open. James walked slowly back into her life yet STILL he showed little, carrying a couple of bags of stuff to add to her supplies. He brushed past and went into the kitchen, dumping them on the table, hearing Heather’s heels clicking behind him as she followed. “James, love… is something wrong?” she asked, shuddering when he froze. The guy turning towards her then he almost seemed to collapse. She rushed forward and caught him, easing the guy over to the bench and got James sitting down. “Ouf…” he said, his breathing a little ragged and Heather’s heart gave a jump… as she’d once been that way herself. Surely he wasn’t… ill? He looked up into her beautiful face, his own trying not to show the pain, but she knew. Taking his ice-cold hands into her own. “James, is it… that?” she whispered and he nodded as she sat alongside. “Yeah,” he said, feeling her shaking as it struck home. “I got the results yesterday. Even Kelvin doesn’t know yet, nor does mum. She’s been over with Jen for a fortnight, but coming home tonight, our lassie popped out another rug-rat a week ago.” And that was a surprise, as Heather didn’t know his sister had been pregnant. Normally he kept Miss McCreadie up to date on family stuff and that surely would have been told. So how long was it since his last distressing visit? “I’m sorry it’s been so long Heather. In fact I’d better level with you right now, but we’ll do it next door in… your bedroom please,” he said, gripping tight. They went and sat down and the tale emerged. Heather McCreadie managed not to faint on finding out it was summer… the FOLLOWING year! “It’s been that long?” and he nodded. Yep, eight months actually and its now July. Going on to say that ‘up-top’ they’d just endured the worst weather for decades. “Possibly you honey, were the safest person in Scotland down here. Especially during that October hurricane.” She nodded, clutching his hands and immediately apologised for what she’d said back then. “Yeah, I must do the same for what I did to you, I kicked myself for days afterwards. Guess the ghosts gave you some grief?” She nodded wryly and their lips met for a long kiss and they both wept as the couple held each other tight. She was appalled to hear about the damage across the country. Four hundred dead, many thousands injured and property damage running into billions. “We lost the roof off the large barn and another was written off… the small one where I found you,” he said, the girl blushing on remembering that night. He did too but apart from that they were sheltered in the valley and had escaped the worst. “Poor Wally however has lost everything. Thank goodness I was able to rescue him as his place was exposed out on the hilltop. We’d moved his stock into our spare barn so the animals made it but I had to drag him away at the end, he didn’t want to leave. Just as well I did because the farmhouse… just vanished, only the floor-base remains. He’s staying with us now. Lives in Jen’s room till his insurance pays up. He was supposed to retire years ago leaving the place… to wee Martin, my mate who died in the crash in 2006? Now we’re not sure what’s gonna happen to him.” Heather sat there fiddling with her dress as the tale continued. “I’m so glad I’d altered the vent system so your air came from the new one inside the castle walls. The pipe outside would surely have been well under the umpteen-foot drifts that have blanketed the high moors. I screwed it shut or you would have had white stuff blowing out of there, coulda made a snowman on yer carpet,” he chuckled wryly knowing Heather loved snowballing. They’d had a session in Ft William with the other girls after their ’engagement walk’. “It started days after the hurricane. That’s why I didn’t come back, we were too busy with Wally and rescuing others. Even now there’s still a lot that hasn’t melted. Never seen snow lying here in July for Petes sake.” She did mention that at one time she’d needed to block the original hole up, the first time it’d seemed painfully cold blowing down despite the top being shut. Needing to wear the old dress over her normal clothing AND use all the spare blankets. James replying,“it hit –28C not ten miles from here, guess it was that night. I really panicked, worrying ‘bout you.” She tried to smile. “Thanks, sorry but I really cursed you that time. But please honey… what’s up with you now then?” He paused and she trembled as a painfully familiar story emerged. Pains, aches, tiredness coming and going after Christmas. James couldn’t afford time off the farm and dared not say anything to his folks. “Pride go’eth before the fall? Then I did big time out in the yard two months ago. Wally was there and said I just stopped, got out of the jeep and went down like a sack of feed. He thought I’d had a heart attack, think it nearly gave him one too!” he quipped, trying to cheer Heather up though he guessed she knew what was coming. “So I was carted off to Inverness. Spent a week being prodded and probed in places too uncomfortable to mention in polite company. They found nothing. Bloodwork showed zip according to them. But I wasn’t convinced. So once back at Braemore I spoke to your Dr Chalmers, you remember her love?” Heather nodded. “Yeah Lucy was… is great…and?” “She drove all the way to see me. You didn’t know she was ex MOD?” and Heather looked amazed. “Well she is, and she tested for various contaminants having remembered me… and came up trumps. Only it’s something that hasn’t been known here… since WW2. That’s why your cancer got missed. Now… it’s my turn. I’ve got the same bloody problem you had… and she’s warned me we’ve gotta keep it secret. If it gets out, then the whole of this part of Scotlands’ in deep trouble,” he said at last. Heather gasped, surely he couldn’t be serious. “It’s not infectious, but Lucy will have to answer some very awkward questions if or when it worsens. Like how she and I know each other. The fact she knew you. She’s sure MOD would find that out too easily if I went back to hospital, so…it looks like… I’m going to have… to well, leave and go die quietly somewhere instead.” Miss McCreadie burst into tears, thinking that maybe it’d been Claggan that had poisoned both of them instead of saving her. “But James… you can’t do that!” she said, gripping tight in case he left straight away. The thought he’d lock her down here permanently was too horrible to contemplate. These last eight months had been hard enough. Knowing he’d NEVER return… no chance and she waited a few minutes before speaking. Chapter 3. “Well I’ve got an idea. Daft as it sounds but I need you to think carefully before you refuse,” she said after a long thought. “It’s a multi-part thing” and she asked the following… A. Was Lucy aware Heather was still alive, had she asked James what had really happened to her? B. If not, would she believe James if he told her the truth, bringing Dr Chalmers to see for herself? C. Would she, to avoid implicating herself again… cover up James own disappearance? D. If she agreed, was James… prepared to come and live here at Claggan full time? E. Would Kelvin and June go along with this having discovered Heather was still alive? “Well you certainly have thought this out. How long?” he asked. Not surprised Heather had wondered right from day1 whether her illness had been caused by what she’d done. “Guess I’ve had time to mull it over honey,” she said and a smile touched his lips. “But it’s too late to worry about it now. I guess if I took this chain off, I’ll be dead within minutes.” she replied, touching the snaplock on her collar and for a moment James thought she’d undo it. “No!” he barked, making her jump as she hadn’t meant to get that close. He apologised, she said nothing but looked puzzled when James reached into the other bag and pulled out her wrist cuffs. Asking her to put them on and she paused, surely this was hardly the time to start playing games. “Please Heather, just do it,” he sighed unlocking them. She shrugged and applied each one, securing them then returning the keys after repeating this for her ankles. Maybe I’m going upstairs, she thought, though as James was dressed in a heavy jacket and trousers with boots too she wasn’t sure. He’d said it was summer up there… Once done he ordered her to wriggle across the bed and allow him to snaplock her down. “James love, surely this can wait…?” Heather said but was unprepared when he took her arms then started pushing the girl down. “Alright… I’ll do it. Just WAIT A MOMENT!” she snapped, for the first time in ages becoming scared of him again. Heather now shuddered as she lay back. The ‘snip’ of each one binding her to the bed was not pleasant today and she was worried at what was happening. That more so once he’d spread-eagled her, as James then produced material, swiftly hands grabbing her jaw and applying the gag, forcing it deep into her mouth, muffling squeals as Miss McCreadie naturally began begging him not to…

Emma's Entombment 6

Tue, 01 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part 5

Part 6

Emma Cline somehow managed not to scream on finding out her man had escaped. Getting Fatima to swap places before they were buried alive. “But I don’t understand. Surely you know what’s happening to us. We’re NEVER going to be freed!” she wept, her brain too scrambled to take it in. Fatima waited patiently until Emma stopped sobbing. Not yet able to tell her companion that she was ‘only’ restrained at feet, waist and neck. Her wrists were still free though she’d been instructed how to secure those if the air got stuffy. It’d taken Rashid only a few minutes to convince his wife to take part and why. Fatima was a broad- minded character and as she knew they’d be released sometime tomorrow went along with it. So now all she had to do was break the news to a very distressed Mrs Cline. Emma squealed when the hands reached across. “Are you not restrained then?” she gasped. Telling the woman how she was secured. Fatima agreed, Em sensing her smiling and she was puzzled. Finally it emerged that Mrs Feroz was rather turned on by this idea. “I might be older than you my dear but I still have feelings in ‘that’ department, OK?” Now Emma did start to smile but it still didn’t alter the fact they were here for good… weren’t they. Tentatively she asked… “No dear. We’re not. All we had to do was for Judge Kasim to witness you being buried. I offered to take Mr Tony’s place, because Rashid said he was worth more alive…” Emma gasping at that but Fatima ploughed on. “Well he’s right. Not that Rashie doesn’t love me, we’ve been together almost as long as you’ve been alive, you’re what, late twenties?” Emma blushing at that as she was actually thirty, next month, if she made it out of here. Fatima now revealed the true nature of the plan… if they survived. “Which I’m sure we will. You made it ten hours in a single casket; there are two of us in a double. There is something happening at this place that kept you alive when you should have perished. Rashid and Tony want to find out what that is, understand?” “OK, I guess we will. The air seems fine so far. But do you have the veils and all that?” she asked. Fatima replying yes. “I’m even wearing one of the robes. They are nice. Rashie likes it when we’re…” she paused and Emma sensed her fellow captive blushing now! Hands coming over and stroking Emma’s torso, then the girl squealed as she felt the collar suddenly undo, dropping her head. “Oh wow. Can you free my arms, but I thought these didn’t have release levers anyway, and were permanent. “Not a chance. The Judge wasn’t briefed on this; Rashie had these loops made at the museum. There are tiny buttons underneath the loops at the back. I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you before. Kasim had to see you really distressed, he saw you at the pillar too. Assuming it was to be for all time. Tony said you’d not be able to hide your feelings if you’d known.” Emma relaxed for the first time admitting it was true. Still put out that nobody had confided in her about the plan. Fatima sensed this and gently rubbed her torso again, even lifting Emma’s veils, as the wetness was really irritating. “Don’t suppose you’ll do my arms… please?” but she refused. “Besides you seemed to enjoy being restrained, I’m not so sure but I think it’s better if you stay like that.” Mrs Cline sighed in surrender. Asking Fatima to scratch her nose as it was itching. She complied and that was SO much better. They chatted on and seemingly hours later finally stopped. Emma starting to get tired… sleepy even and she suddenly realised it was a little warmer now. The air… “Fatima. Can you secure me again,” she asked, startling Mrs Feroz as she was already asleep. The woman was talked through how to do the now dry veils and the collar was clicked closed. Then she did her own, trembling slightly as she reached down afterwards, placed wrists into the loops and flicked. ‘Click…click…’ Then they both jumped minutes later when all the restraints tightened again. “Oh my God…” Emma murmured, hearing Fatima gasp. That shouldn’t have been possible with these according to Rashid but now… Silence was total now; both women trying to ‘hold’ their breath but gradually Emma realised it was getting cooler and fresher again. Fatima sighed when she heard that. “See love, my Rashie was right. There is definitely something else here that’s helping, yet always waiting to punish if we step too far. This will be your task in the years to come.” The couple waited now. In and out of sleep and it was Fatima who heard the banging from above. A nervous Rashid Feroz hammered into the welds covering the casket lid. Tony hardly daring to believe the couple below them was alive after twenty-four hours. Judge Kasim had signed all the paperwork thus absolving the pair if Emma and Fatima didn’t make it. Now they were about to find out. Taking an age to lift the sarcophagus out once the cover had been removed. Seeing no gap at all where the joins should have been. Tony grabbed a hammer and was about to start smashing the thing apart when Feroz stopped him. “Other side Tony, the hinges have changed sides…see?” He stared and gradually the joins could be seen after all. A sigh of relief and he jammed the crowbar into the tiny gap where the discs had been. Turning each slot and hearing the thunk as the casket unlocked. The fourth was done and they prayed before tugging the halves apart… “Took your time didn’t you love…” was all Tony heard before grabbing Rashid for a hug. The couple seemingly alive as Fatima’s quiet crying joining her companion in tears of relief. The men released their partners, really having to squeeze the buttons hard to get the bands to unlock. Both women could barely walk as they stepped out. Emma kicking her shoes off straight away, even before lifting her veils away. They turned to their men and everyone embraced. A big huddle of humanity and nobody said a word for ages. “So that’s it then. We’re really free now of this?” Emma said once they were back in one of the other buildings. Still in her robe, Fatima the same and Tony saw his wife gently stroking her body and it made him grin. The suit made for his own intended burial was upstairs in what would now be their permanent quarters as Rashid had explained what they’d be doing, assuming Emma survived. “Yes. Judge Kasim has agreed that sentence was carried out in accordance with the law and he didn’t want to know any more about it’s aftermath… though he’s quietly convinced you’d make it. The police have been told the same so your case is closed. Now you really are free folks. But…” and Emma’s eyes rolled. There’s always a but. However in this case it was a good one and Tony took over. Telling his beloved that their job from now on was to completely explore Neen from start to finish. There was no time limit. This was their new home now. Rashid would supply food and stuff from Cairo once a week. Power wasn’t a problem as he showed Mrs Cline the solar systems that had been installed long ago. “Very well. We accept. But I’m hungry, any chance of dinner now?” she asked and they all laughed. So they started all over again. This time mapping each room on a chart and accurately measuring each. Amazed at how big the site really was as every disc turned led into another room. All on the same level, some with hieroglyphics but most without. They found a few artifacts and Rashid was delighted at their progress on his visits. Emma soon over her traumatic time and she forgave Tony for what he’d done. “You’d have used the air quicker than Fatima did eh?” poking him in the ribs and earning herself a cuddle. Never asking again to be placed in a casket. She also began to change as they’d progressed deeper into the dig. Firstly using that lightest of the collars found in the storeroom. By the end of the first month however Emma was wearing ‘a full set’ wrist and ankle cuffs, a belt and that last band around her neck. These had no loops so were assumed to be jewellery and Tony didn’t mind. Seeing and hearing her click each one every morning before they went to work. Only taking them off on exiting the dig. They only worked daytime hours too, even though once underground it was by torches and the solar power lights. Evenings were spent normally in their quarters, playing cards, Tony teaching Em about chess too. Progress was steady and there was a landmark event three months in when they found a room with several holes to one side. Going DOWN at a 25degree angle with a curve about fifty feet along stopping them seeing where it ended up. Only about the size of a casket but it was where that made them get excited. “Perhaps this place has a lower level honey,” Emma said looking down there. The only problem was that in each hole, about ten feet from the start was what looked like a nipple hanging from the roof and blocking partway. “Trust you to think of that…” she said acidly but smiling all the same as hers received some loving attention. What was down there? A stone was thrown down the first and they listened as it clattered round the bend, faintly banging on the surface before a hollow ‘boom’ came echoing up. Another bigger one followed with the same noise and now the couple was really excited. “There’s got to be a chamber down there love. It doesn’t just stop as if it hit a wall.” Tony fetched a rope and Emma begged to be allowed to go first. “Your fat ass wouldn’t get past the ‘nipple’ as you so lovingly call it!” she remarked and he reluctantly agreed. Making sure Emma did the knots firmly. In fact it was more like a harness under her arms. If she got stuck all Tony had to do was drag her up. Soon she was ready and nervously Emma clambered into the hole. Easing herself down and beginning to wriggle. Having to stop and shine the torch down as she approached the obstruction. It really was a squeeze to get past it. Emma examining it closely but a tap on the side and it wobbled alarmingly. “It’s not stone. More like a rubber…” and she tried not to laugh, as did he. Safely passed it and down Emma slid. Stopping every few feet as the abrasions on her skin made it itch. Back to work and Tony watched in amazement as she finally reached the shallow curve and go out of view. Stopping to shine her torch and… “Bloody hell love, it goes way out of sight… and gets steeper” he heard her say, Emma seeing more of those nipples in a line. She didn’t know how long Tony’s rope was but she carried on until reaching the first. The slope was really getting to her now and also Emma was tired. Knowing she’d have to clamber up as Tony dragging on the rope would make it worse. Idly thinking about that she felt the nipple brush against her ass… and break off! Emma squealed as a torrent of sand flowed out of the hole, rushing down and covering her legs in seconds. The view beyond vanishing as it kept coming out with no sign of stopping. Tony Cline froze hearing her make that noise. The rope slackening for a moment and he was terrified she’d fallen or come loose. Sighing moments later as she came back round the corner and his eyes blurred with tears. Emma called up, telling him just to draw the rope slowly. “Don’t tug, and make sure you do not hit that thing!” Ten tense minutes later they were together and she held on for a long while. Emma still trembled as she dusted herself down. Tony noticing how carefully she’d crept passed the nipple. “That honey, was bloody close…” she said once able to speak. Tony noticing she’d insisted on coming outside rather than remaining in the dig. Only now did Emma reveal what she’d seen and done down there. “Whatever goes down that hole… stays there.” Taking him back to the scene after lunch and grabbing some stones on the way. “Right, see if you can hit the nipple with one of these…” she said. Tony grinned. “Well, it’s better than chucking them at your head sweetheart. See if I’ve still got the ability,” and she chuckled wryly. Accepting a kiss and his apology. Two shots missed and they heard silence once the stones went into the sand she knew was there. On the third however he struck it halfway up and the guy was amazed. It instantly broke off at the roof and more sand came pouring out, filling the space up to the top. “Yep, that’s what happened round the corner. These passages were designed to be used once. I assume the idea was that a casket is slid down and it vanishes…well into the next life. Sounds daft but I’m convinced there’s only a certain amount that Neen wants us to find.” That night he was very gentle with her. Emma trembling at her close escape and he held tight as she wept. Next day he was surprised when after breakfast she announced that it was time for work. Seeing she was still dressed in the ‘robe’ worn every night since coming back. Actually looking closer today there were two of them, with underwear in place, her ‘jewellery’ now applied over the top. Maybe it was Emma’s way of adding another level of well, ‘devotion’ to this place. He didn’t argue and instead led her over to the dig and they got going. To test Emma’s theory about the caskets after a lot of effort they got one down to the room with the holes. Using the next in line. Mrs Cline trying not to damage her outfit but no way would Tony suggest she remove it now. Once in place they loaded it with stones to simulate a body then paused. “One, two, three… push!” Away it went, knocking the nipple clean off and the sand flowed as before. But they could still hear the sound as the casket went beyond their view. The faint thumps as each obstruction was reached and passed before the final ‘boooom’ came up. Now the hole vanishing as the sand reached the roof. “Two down, only three to go…” she murmured as he came close. Stroking Emma through the material of her dress, telling her he’d always love her. Em smiled and suggested they go off for lunch. Another three months passed and quite suddenly on trying another disc they were stunned to reveal an exit to the outside world! Emma having to shield her eyes as low evening sunlight flooded the room, soon seeing that it was more like a cave. Stepping close to the edge and peering out. “We’ve come right through the hill. See, there’s the road that leads to Alexandria” Tony said pointing to the faint glow of headlights on the desert floor many miles away. Emma was more disappointed. Maybe this was the end of the place. What would they do now? Rashid would probably say they could work at the museum in secret, but to her Neen-Al-Tudlobry WAS her home. Turning back and accepting a long cuddle from her man. Tony touching her belt and saying that he’d always expect her to wear these from now on. “Not a problem…” she grinned. Peering over the edge to see if there was any sign of another outlet from the supposed lower level. But the cliff was a sheer drop to the river hundreds of feet below, preventing any idea of clambering down to check. With a heavy heart she turned away and with the sun almost at the horizon suggested it was time they went for dinner. Friday was their normal ‘date’ night after a hard week’s exploring. But tonight was almost a type of commiseration at reaching the end. Rashid would be here tomorrow to resupply them, collect their latest research and any finds and until today this lot had been better than expected. Perhaps Neen had given up all its secrets, though both knew whatever was below those holes in that chamber would not be investigated… unless there was no intention of returning. So tonight once back in their ‘house’ Emma dressed to thrill in that red lacy number to cheer herself up, and not much else underneath either. A shame she’d not packed the heels that came with it. Excess baggage had been the bane of her life so the usual sneakers were applied and Tony’s hands had been all over her while preparing dinner. Now sitting there much later on he reached over to give her a cuddle, only to find Emma was trembling a little. “You all right…?” he asked and she turned to look. Her fingers now twitching. “No… sorry love but I’m not. Was fine up until about five minutes ago but…” she never finished the sentence. Leaping to her feet and rushing out, ignoring his calls as she fled into the bathroom next door. Tony paused then made to follow but the sound of his wife vomiting explosively into the toilet bowl stopped him cold. Emma emerged, ashen faced and shaking. Holding on to the doorframe. “If it’s that paella love you need to do the same…” she said. Tony however felt fine, as an iron constitution was never a problem. “If you’ve seen the crap I used to eat in the army then one Spanish meal ain’t gonna kill me.” She smiled wryly at that and went to wash her mouth out then clean the kitchen up. Coming back an hour later and flopping into the chair, taking his hand and placing it on her leg just below the skirt hem. Insinuating he ought to start thinking about undressing her. She paused, feeling his skin, sweating slightly and Emma looked at him. “Tony, please go and throw it up. I’ll make you a salt drink that should help. Go on… move,” and thankfully he agreed. Going into the bathroom but a couple of dry heaves got him nowhere. Emma arrived to see his ass waving in the air as he bent over the bowl. “Very romantic. Have this.” She grinned and handed the concoction over. Cline knocked most of it back and it worked. Spinning round and… “Ugh,” Emma chuckled, wincing in sympathy as she left him to retch. Hearing a couple of thumps minutes later she frowned, then another louder one and the door slammed. “Tony… you all right…” she called. No answer so Emma pushed the wood, only to find her husband collapsed on the floor. “Oh shit,” she swore, trying to lift him up but he weighed a ton and Em struggled. Eventually getting him rolled over onto his belly so he wouldn’t choke. Just as well because another load came pouring out. Really bad and it lasted a while. An hour later he was in bed, Em having half-dragged him there because he couldn’t manage alone. Only taking his messy shirt off because of the sick. Wrapping his torso in blankets then cradling his forehead. Feeling it very flushed and she was convinced there was something seriously wrong now. All that night Emma nursed him. Praying for the dawn to come, bringing Rashid and she hoped the guy had a First-Aid kit in the jeep. Finally her heart leapt as it arrived, soon after 8am and she rushed out, pleased to see Fatima was with him for the first time in ages. She called, waving frantically and they hurried across. “Tony’s very ill. Possible food poisoning,” she said, Mrs Feroz holding Em as she tried not to collapse. Still not feeling that good herself though thankful she’d changed into the blue maxi-dress and jacket to receive visitors. Professor Feroz hurried into their bedroom. Seeing his friend leaning up against the pillows. Eyes barely open but just able to recognise who it was. Weakly waving, then leaning over and another heave into the bowl placed for that reason. Rashid was horrified, seeing how pale he was. Tony’s normally well-tanned skin was almost white now. Coming over and taking Cline’s hand, feeling the sweating, but icy cold fingers trembling. He’d never known anyone be this sick and he didn’t think many doctors had either. “Not good buddy,” he murmured. “I feel shite… No, worse than that…” Meanwhile Fatima was questioning Emma about their meal. She wasn’t a nurse but five decades on the planet had given her a lot of experience of treating various ailments. The girl was partway through telling Mrs Feroz when Rashid appeared ten minutes later. “I’m sorry Emma… I think you’d better go and see him…” he began. The look on his face telling her it was worse than she’d originally feared. “…Before it’s too late.” The chair flew back, smashing into the cupboard as Emma rushed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Rashid sat next to his wife and they stared at each other. “I’m sorry dear Fatima. Tony is probably beyond help now… no way will a doctor…” before he broke down as did she. Emma stared blankly at her man. His eyes looking at her and she guessed as his fingers gripped tighter. “Be brave sweetheart, stay with me. I know you will. Be brave for me…” The Feroz heard Emma’s wail of agony an hour later. Fatima looking at her man, nodding before they prayed for another soul lost. Mrs Feroz getting to her feet and heading for the bedroom where she could hear the cries of anguish. Opening the door to see Em slumped across the bed, her hands wrapped round Tony’s, her body shaking. She jumped a mile when Fatima touched her arm. Turning round and Mrs Feroz saw her face. “Why honey, why now…” she wept but there could be no answer to that. She carefully lifted Emma’s hands away. Making sure Tony’s didn’t just flop down as she placed them neatly on that still chest. Reaching for the blanket and between them the women covered him up. Leading an emotionally destroyed Emma into the kitchen. Rashid got up from his seat and embraced them both, soon everyone crying and it took a while to stop. Fatima, Mrs Practical sitting them down while she made tea for Emma and coffee for themselves. Nothing was said for a while before Emma asked about rules for burials in Egypt. Rashid replying that in theory it should be done on the same day, but as the man was not of their faith he… “No love, we’re guests in your country. We’ll abide by the rules… I don’t want another fine…” and despite themselves everyone chuckled. Mrs Feroz amazed by Emma’s resilience. Though she knew the real grieving was yet to come, the way it had taken her years to get over the loss of her first husband, one of Rashie’s best friends. She did want to show the couple what had been found the day before. Leading them through the dig to the cave, passing the room with the holes and it gave Emma an idea. Bringing the pair back once they’d seen the view. Emma Cline explained what had happened when she’d gone down, saying that rather than burying Tony in the yard by the house she wanted to place him here. “A symbolic journey. We’ve no idea what is down there. It’s far too dangerous to go down the outside. Maybe it’s as if Neen doesn’t want us to know any more…” she said before breaking down in tears. The Feroz looked at each other, before Fatima nodded. “Very well Emma. We’ll do as you request.” Rashid said and got a hug from both ladies. Preparation took an hour. The three dragged one of the remaining caskets through the dig and placed it by the hole. Emma then went to Tony and tearfully dressed him into the suit Fatima had made for the supposed burial, now to be used for real. Then the last journey as the trio loaded their fallen friend onto a stretcher and brought him to the room. Rashid placed him into the casket and was about to close the lid when Emma said stop. He wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. Hurrying back into the light and fetching it. Crying as she placed the golden band onto his cold finger and kissed it one last time. Laying the hand across his chest. The lid was closed up then all three knelt and prayed. “Ready?” Emma wept as the casket slid away, rumbling down the slope, the sand pouring out from the roof. The others fascinated as it vanished round the corner and both women were in an embrace as the last ‘boom’ came up the passage. Packing up took ages. Rashid insisting Emma would be their guest from now on. She wanted to stay at Neen but it was Fatima who finally talked her into leaving. A silent return to Cairo followed. Emma holding her friend’s hands all the way back to their apartment. Rooms were prepared for her and Mrs Cline began her new life as a secret widow. That night Fatima was lying next to her husband. “I’ll give her a month… she’ll want to go back,” she said. Rashid nodding sadly. She was right as Emma grieved long and hard. Many a day she’d hardly say a word to her hosts. Even having to be coerced into going shopping, just to get her out of the house for a while. Finally one day Mrs Cline came into the kitchen, hoping to see Fatima alone and smiled on finding her there. She lay a drawing on the table. “Would you make this for me please?” she asked. Showing Mrs Feroz the design for a dress and the woman immediately knew the only reason Emma could want that. “Yes love. I will create this… and I know why as well,” She said and the pair embraced. Telling Emma it’ll take about a week. It really was to be a lovely outfit, made from all the surviving robes that had been in the storeroom; well apart from a couple Mrs Feroz probably had upstairs! Working diligently on her evenings away from her normal job. Emma taking over responsibility for all the cooking and housework so it could be finished. Calling the girl into her bedroom at the completion and Mrs Cline gasped on seeing it for real. Trying it on and being briefed at what she’d need to do. That night Emma suggested they all go out for dinner rather than being at home. The Feroz knew what this meant, Em confirming this during the drinks after a very nice meal that she insisted on paying for. Using all the money that she’d had on her. Telling Rashid and Fatima the truth. “It’s been lovely staying with you two and I thank you with all my heart. But I know deep in there that Neen-Al-Tudlobry will always be home for me. Where it began for Tony and myself, long before we got together as man and wife. I… I want to rejoin him… there. To be at his side once more.” Rashid stared, as he wasn’t expecting that. “What, you go back there… and down…?” Emma nodding. “Yes, there are two holes remaining. We’ll load up a casket with food and water, as much as will fit. That goes down one. I intend to go down the other. We took a gamble last time and made it. Now I feel that it will be my destiny.” The pair was astonished and Rashid wanted to say no. Looking at Fatima who was staring at Emma. Tears not too far away at the thought she was about to lose another friend. But she took Mrs Cline’s hands and said yes. They were prepared to go along with this. Mr Feroz now agreeing with his wife that it should be tomorrow. The drinks were finished and he drove the ladies home. Emma Cline awoke next morning… happy. A long soak in the bath followed then once more dressed in ‘that’ suit. Coming into the kitchen to see the others awaiting her at the table. Hugs and gentle kisses exchanged before breakfast was eaten. It was Emma who drove them there. Anxious not to show nerves and she was pleased on turning into Neen and parking up. Making sure she handed back the keys with a grin. “It’s a long walk home!” and they’d all laughed at that. Emma and the others dragged the two sarcophagi into position and helped pack the first with water, food and Em’s handbag. Plus another bag that Rashid didn’t know the contents of but having seen it was light assumed it probably contained clothing as no other stuff had been seen. The casket was launched down the hole. Emma listening intently for the last ‘boom’ that signified that wherever it stopped it’d reached the same place as Tony. Now the last emotional hugs and kisses between the three followed. Fatima and Rashid helping Emma sit down then guide her back till the girl was lying flat. There were no restraints in here. Just a pillow had been asked for and placed where she needed it. Emma bid them farewell then the lid was placed over the sarcophagus and she braced herself. Feeling it lift up then… woosshhhh… The noise was deafening as the stone rubbed against stone. Emma hearing the ‘whump’ as the first nipple was hit, the sarcophagus twisting as it rounded the first corner then she squealed as it gained speed in the descent. More noise as the others were hit and she imagined the sand now flooding the hole behind her. The vibrations shaking her body then suddenly it felt like it was slowing. The end by her feet dropping before the other bit slammed down, to be replaced by silence. “Well I’m here sweetheart. But where…” Emma whispered and reached up. Praying the lid wasn’t jammed, leaving her to die of starvation in the casket. It moved! Emma shocked as daylight poured in and she let go for a moment. The lid closing again and this time she shut both eyes before trying again. Pushing hard and the front was eased away and Emma sat up. Slowly opening her eyes through both hands until they stabilised and Mrs Cline saw… The room was huge. Nearly a hundred feet across by the look of it as Emma climbed out of her casket. Seeing the magnificent hieroglyphics all around the walls. Sunlight coming from a huge square hole near the roof forty or fifty feet above her. She sighed, wishing Tony to have seen this. His casket rested a few feet to the left of hers, the one with her food and supplies between them. But looking up the hole she’d come down wasn’t necessary as the sand had come with the caskets and was piled up nearby. Only the first hole was clear and peering up Emma knew it was still blocked near the top. So any thought of escape was over. Smiling now Emma paced around the room. Her heels clicking so loudly on the stone floor as she approached the far end and what appeared to be an altar? The huge structure easily a casket length across in every direction. A hole underneath running the width of the thing. It was what was on top that caught Emma’s eyes. Golden Bands. Thick loops of metal like the one she’d worn every day, until today of course. Giving those to Fatima for sentimental reasons. Asking Mrs Feroz to treasure them. However these were shaped in… The girl looked all around the collar. Seeing no signs of release lever; buttons or any way of freeing the loop once it was shut. Whatever was placed in these, was staying in them so Emma decided this was one set she’d not be playing with! Climbing up on top Emma looked down. Seeing how they were laid out. The legs together there, waist here with the collar above that. The wrist cuffs either side of her head but not too far apart. Once secure the figure would face feet first towards the ‘window’ Emma lay down alongside the bands, holding herself in the same position as if they were locked around her body. It was all right, if ever she…

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

Sun, 02 Apr 2017 00:00:00 +0000

“Here we are, girl.”

Jessie obeyed the tug of the reins and slowed down as she turned into the driveway. The petite, golden-haired ponygirl had been trained mercilessly, and now reacted instinctively to any commands, her long mane and full breasts bouncing in unison as she pulled her Master’s cart along the suburban streets. Fortunately, it was a gated community, so not many strangers saw her in her condition. Also fortunate was that community standards required that she wear at least a non-revealing bra and full-coverage panty girdle.