"Thank you m'lady," Tracey stared back at the unctious hotel receptionist wringing his hands like Uriah Heep.
Milady? What was the silly fool going on about. He sounded foreign. That must be it. Foreigners were always a bit funny.
"Your suite is ready for you M'lady."
Suite! The penny pinching company Tracey worked for would never have booked her a suite. She must have got an upgrade! How fantastic. Tracey never got upgrades. Her luck must be changing.
An equally subservient porter carried her small bag as he showed her to her room.
"Your trunk has already arrived, M'Lady."
Tracey looked at the large travelling trunk in the middle of the room. She didn't have a trunk. She shrugged. She'd sort it out later. She had spotted the whirlpool jacuzzi tub in the bathroom!
"Yes," she said to the porter who was still hanging around, "that'll be all."
"All M'lady, I thought you might..."
The stupid man was after a tip.
"Then you thought wrong."
The porter ambled off muttering something about skinflint toffs.
Tracey looked at the trunk. There was a large label on 'Lady Tacey Psmith'.
Tacey not Tracey! The hotel had mistaken her for some posh girl. No wonder they'd given her the suite. It did not occur to her for one moment to apprise the hotel of the mistake. Lady Tacey's loss was her gain.
She stripped off admiring her naked body in the large mirrors of the bathroom. Her expansive boobies, her wide hips, her bottom... Well perhaps not her bottom, it was one thing having expansive boobies, it was quite another having an expansive behind.
She turned on the water for the tub when an extraordinary thing happened. The bathroom was plunged into darkness. The bathroom light switch was outside the door of course and Tracey found herself in pitch blackness.
She opened the door slightly.
"Hello," she said, "Anybody there?"
Not a sound. Her hand felt round for the light switch.
Suddenly another hand grabbed it and she was pulled naked into the bedroom. Two hands grabbed her boobies.
"Oops. Like what sorry your ladyness."
The two hands grabbed her bum.
"Oops. Like what sorry your ladyness."
Then finally she found her hands secured round her back, her feet tied together a gag put in her mouth and she was bundled into a large container. The trunk! The lid was put down and she heard it being locked. Through the little breathing holes she could see the light switched on and could hear a voice on the phone.
"Lady Tacey 'as like what 'ad to leave suddenly. This is like 'er butler speakin'. She wants 'er trunk delivered to the 'ouse like what's on the label."
Tracey gasped. There were drawbacks to being mistaken for Lady Tacey and one of them was like what getting kidnapped.
*********
Sebastian Psmith, fifth Earl of Grimsby, put down the forkful of kedgeree that he was about eat, and looked at the letter he had just received.
"I say," he announced.
The rest of the family stared in astonishment. Lord Grimsby never spoke before 11 am except under the most extreme circumstances. A housemaid fainted with shock.
"...I say. It appears Lady Tacey has been kidnapped. They are demanding a ransom."
"That's strange Papa," said a small, bright dark haired girl sitting opposite, "I thought I was sitting here in Upton Priory eating toast and marmalade."
"It appears from the photographic portrayal I have received that you are not. It appears that you are hanging upside down from the ceiling of a deserted warehouse stark naked."
"Give me that picture Papa."
He handed it over. He couldn't deny his youngest daughter anything.
"Stark naked Papa!" Lady Tacey flushed at the thought. It somehow seemed to her more exciting to be hanging upside down from the ceiling stark naked, possibly with Joe the blacksmith wielding a riding crop...
"Are you all right my dear? You've gone quite red," Lord Grimsby looked concernedly at his youngest daughter.
Lady Tacey collected herself. "Quite all right Papa. What ransom are they demanding."
"A thousand pounds."
With her first show of temper for the day Lady Tacey snapped, "A thousand pounds! Don't pay it Papa. I'm worth much more than that. Tell them they should demand ten thousand at least."
"I would indeed insist on that my dear if I were certain that it was you they had actually kidnapped."
"Oh yes," Lady Tacey calmed down slightly, "Perhaps you should demand some proof Papa."
"Have you any specific distinguishing features my dear that would only be visible if you were hanging naked upside down from the ceiling."
Lady Tacey's eyes glazed over. Naked. At his mercy. His bare chest glistening with perspiration, the muscles of his biceps rippling under the tanned skin as he raised the riding crop and...
"Are you quite all right dear?"
"Sorry Papa I was just er... Thinking."
"I asked if you had any private distinguishing features."
"I have a tattoo on on my left cheek Papa."
"I hesitate to disagree my dear, but I can see from here that you do not."
"I mean my lower left cheek Papa."
"Have you indeed. And what pray does this tattoo depict."
"A butterfly Papa."
"And who was it provided you with this artistic masterpiece."
"Joe the blacksmith Papa. He is very skilled."
"Is he indeed. Let me be the judge of that. Be so kind as to bend over the table."
Lady Tacey did as she was told.
"Albert," Lord Grimsby addressed the second underfootman, "Be so kind as to fetch Mary, Lady Tacey's personal maid, she cannot be expected to remove her own undergarments."
"That's all right Papa, it is not the current fashion to wear such things."
She raised her skirt so as to display her left lower cheek.
"Excellent work," said Lord Grimsby, "I think I shall commission him myself. I have a desire for a roaring lion upon my male member."
"Indeed it would suit you well Papa."
"I shall write to them directly and demand such proof."
"Do that, and Papa..."
"Yes my dear."
"Do beg them not to beat me with a riding crop."
"I will my dear, you can be sure of that, I will!"
***********
Tracey was fed up looking at the floor. And the blood was rushing to her head.
"'Ere," said the big bloke, "it says 'ere like what you've a butt... A butt... A buttythingummy on your bum."
"No I haven't," said Tracey.
"I can see that," said the big bloke.
"It says 'ere," said the little bloke, "that we're not to take a riding crop to you. What's 'e mean? What's a riding crop?"
"It's a sort of short whip used for whipping horses," it was only after she'd said it that she realised she should have kept her mouth shut.
********
Munching on the last of his kipper, Lord Grimsby looked at the picture that had just been sent to him. It depicted a naked girl tied down bending over a chair so as to display a bare behind. The ample bare behind was adorned with six red stripes but no sign of a butterfly tattoo.
"I say," said Lord Grimsby, "I'm not sure this is you my dear."
"Give me the picture here Papa."
Lady Tacey stared at the image and flushed. Tied down over chair stark naked, helpless, her bottom about to receive its just punishment as Joe the blacksmith brought the riding crop...
"Are you feeling quite all right dear? You look a little faint."
"Quite all right Papa," Lady Tacey recovered her composure, "Perhaps you should seek some other proof."
"Do you have any other distinguishing features?"
"I have a metal stud in my lips Papa."
"I hate once again to disagree my dear, but I can see that you do not."
"I am referring to my vaginal lips Papa."
"Oh I see. Sorry for doubting you my dear. Albert, send for Mary to remove Lady Tacey's undergarments that we may see the nature of this object."
"Certsainly My Lord."
"No need," said Lady Tacey, lifting her skirt, "I do not wear undergarments."
"Of course my dear. A fine looking piece of wormanship. Who did this for you."
"Joe the blacksmith Papa."
"I must contact him directly for a replacement of my penile ring. It's getting a bit worn."
"You do that Papa, and when you ask them for this further proof suggest one hundred thousand for a ransom. I'm worth much more than a mere ten."
"I will my dear, I will."
"And tell them they must not on any account amuse themselves by shaving off my pubic hair and playing with my clitoris Papa."
"Don't worry my dear. I will."
*********
Hanging upside down by her feet, stark naked and now with a sore behind, Tracey listened as the contents of the letter were read out out.
"'Ere," said the big bloke, "It says like what you've got a metal stud in your labby... Labby..."
"Here let me see," said Tracey, and the big bloke obligingly held it upside down for her.
"It means in my cunt."
"Where's that then? And what's a clitty.. Clitty... Clittythingummy."
Poor Tracey could never keep her big mouth shut.
*********
Pouring himself a cup of Earl Grey's blend of tea Lord Grimsby examined the picture he had just received with the latest ransom note.
It was of a naked girl spreadeagled on a bed, arms and legs tied to the bedposts so that her most intimate parts were displayed.
Lady Tacey looked over his shoulder. Tied down on a bed, naked, vulnerable, expectant as Joe the blacksmith, his prodigious member ramrod hard approaches... She came over all peculiar and had to be helped back to her seat.
"I don't think that's me at all Papa."
"You know my dear, I think you might be right. Do you have any other distinguishing features?"
"Well I do have a diamond encrusted ring Papa."
"Do forgive me my dear, but I believe the gems on your finger are emeralds."
"I was referring to my posterior orifice Papa."
"Of course you were, how foolish of me, perhaps if you could as Mary..."
But Lady Tacey was already on the table displaying the appropriate part of her anatomy.
"I think you should ask them for a photo to prove that Papa."
"Quite right my dear. I shall."
"And not just a paltry hundred thousand. Do they think we're paupers. They should ask for nothing less than a million."
"Quite right my dear."
"And do beg them not to put me naked in a cage."
"I will my dear. I will."
********
Tracey was back looking at the floor again. At least that had been better than the riding crop. She still tingled down below all the same.
"'Ere," said the big bloke, "it says 'ere you've a load of jewels up your ori... Ori... Orithingummy..."
Tracey never learnt.
"He means up my bum hole," she said, and immediately regretted it. They looked very hard and for a long time before giving up.
***********
Lord Grimsby finished his rice crispies and sighed. The posterior orifice displayed in the picture before him on all fours naked in a cage was definitely not diamond studded.
Lady Tacey looked over his shoulder.
Kept naked in a cage. Waiting to be used as a mere sex toy by Joe the blacksmith, his rippling muscles, his sweaty body, his enormous...
Lady Tacey went into a brief swoon, onlu coming to when Lord Grimsby poured the contents of the large tea pot over her.
"I think that might be me Papa," she said at last, "I think we should pay the ransom."
"Do you my dear? Whatever you say."
"You go down to the bank and get out a million pounds and I'll take it and pay the ransom."
"Of course my dear. If you say so."
"And Papa..."
"Yes Dear."
"Do beg them not to give me to the oriental gentleman. Naked in a cage Papa."
"What oriental gentleman is that my dear."
"Just some oriental gentleman I know Papa. Can I have the photograph please."
***********
Lady Tacey had been let out of her cage and now lay naked spreadeagled on the bed as Joe the blacksmith approached his enormous penis throbbing with expectation.
She had banked the million pounds and often wondered about the girl in the photographs.
Tracey looked out from her cage. She was still gagged and naked. She pleaded with her eyes at the people staring at her as if she were a slave in an auction. But they only smiled or scowled as they moved on.
The Big bloke wasn't too happy.
"Only got like what a 'undred knicker from that Chinease bloke. Wot a bleedin' liberty."
Lord Grimsby loooked at his copy of The Times and frowned.
"Government's wasting our money again," he barked."
"Are they dear," said his long suffering wife.
"Look at this nonsense they call art at that Tate and Lyle Modern or whatever they call it."
"What's that dear."
"So called installation by some Chinese feller. Naked girl in a cage. Brazen hussy. Can't think why any girl would show herself off like that. Especially with a behind that size. Hands and knees doesn't suit her at all."
"Perhaps she needs the money dear."
"Bah!"
It was Lord Grimsby's response to any argument.