No one ever came by the old farm. Not in a hundred years, according to Hetty Greet - and she should know, having lived there all her life.

She'd turned 40 a couple of months before so maybe that didn't count as knowing whether anyone came by in a hundred years, but it sure felt like it.

Hetty lived alone at the old farm and had done since her ma and pa died five years before. They said no one ever came by the farm either, in all the years they'd been there. From before Hetty and her sister Abi were born.

Of course, Abi hadn't stayed. She wasn't like Hetty who did what her ma and pa said. 'Stay at home, Hetty,' they told their eldest daughter, 'don't go wandering like your younger sister. You're needed here, to look after the sheep.'

So Hetty stayed and looked after the sheep. She did it well, but couldn't help thinking about what she missed, how she wanted a family. Better still, a daughter. Someone like her who'd help her mind the sheep.

Hetty wasn't sentimental about much. You have to be tough to farm sheep and feelings and emotions get in the way when you have to make hard decisions over life and death, especially animals you had raised and cared for. Even animals like sheep. They may be stupid but they're tough: when the wind and the snow comes sweeping in, the sheep survive. And Hetty learned to be tough too, going out in all weather to tend the flock.

But she wanted a daughter. Someone to come home to when she'd done with the animals. Someone to care for, perhaps someone who depended on her.

When she'd turned 40, Hetty sat down and wondered if it was too late for what she wanted. She could go, like Abi, to the city. Sell up here and move away, get a job in a store or an office. But what could she do there? But above all she couldn't just go and leave the sheep, even to someone who may think they knew what to do. Sheep were stupid and they were tough but she didn't want them finding out the person who'd taken over was far more stupid than tough.

She wondered, long and hard. And while she wondered, she went out to tend to the sheep every day.

---

The silver-blue car came off the track miles from anyplace. It didn't turn over or burst into flames, but it did kill the driver. It was a miracle that it didn't catch fire as there was gasoline on the ground.

Hetty didn't see the crash happen but she found the vehicle in a small ravine. She wouldn't have found that if one of her sheep hadn't gone missing. Even in a place where no one came by there were places she hardly ever went to and this was one of them. A small ravine, hidden from a track that wound its way over a steep hill. Once, people used the route as a shortcut to reach the highway but these days no one seemed to know about it.

Hetty saw the car and then the driver, slumped over the wheel. She had seen death before and she knew he was beyond any help.

Hetty didn't find the sheep but she found something else. Or rather, her sheepdog, Esdee, did.

Esdee was pretty good with his nose and started sniffing round the trunk, which was partly open from the impact. If the dog hadn't have been so curious, Hetty would have left the car and gone to call the Sheriff at once. But Esdee gave that low growl he always did when he'd found something.

In the trunk there was a figure of a small girl and Hetty felt her heart give a leap. She was no more than ten with big eyes and blond hair. Pretty enough, Hetty thought when she looked down and saw her looking up at her, half terrified and half relieved.

Of course, she couldn't see all the girl's face as he was gagged with tape. More tape held her arms behind her and her legs were bound with more of the stuff. So much tape that the kid couldn't speak, couldn't move. She was packed in yards of bubblewrap that looked to have absorbed the impact. Probably kept her warm too, if she had been there overnight.

The bubblewrap came off easily. The child's thin body in a dirty jeans and stained top was well taped up.

Hetty was used to lifting sheep and the girl was lighter that a pregnant ewe, that was for sure. She silently hoisted the girl out effortlessly and carried her back up towards the track. She smiled at the child in her arms but didn't say anything. The girl just kind of looked up at the woman in awe.

The thing that always puzzled Hetty later was the girl didn't struggle. Maybe she was simply glad to have someone rescuing her and the tape bonds and the gag weren't a problem. Maybe she simply trusted Hetty. The woman always liked to think that she had a trustworthy face.

On the track she looked for evidence of anyone else - another car, or perhaps footprints of another person who could have staggered away from the wreck. There was nothing, not even hoof-prints from a lost sheep.

Silently she walked along the track, towards home with Esdee trotting at her side, carrying the child. She wondered, as she walked, why she didn't set the girl down and at least remove her gag. She could breathe but maybe she wanted to talk. But the more she walked the less inclined Hetty felt to do it. It wasn't she didn't want to hear her story about how she came to bound and gagged in the trunk. It was more that she was used to being on her own and she had patience. They would talk later, at the farmhouse.

Anyway, it was kind of nice to simply carry someone who depended on her.

They walked for a couple of miles before the girl made a mewing sound into her gag. Hetty smiled at her but made no effort to remove the gag. It could, she reflected, have been urgent. A pain or an injury from the crash, but she didn't seem hurt. She hadn't squealed or fainted as she picked her up. There was no blood on her, no bones sticking out at crazy angles.

At last Hetty spoke to the child. 'You hurting?'

The girl shook her head.

'You uncomfortable in there?'

The girl hesitated and then shook her head again.

Hetty thought of asking if she wanted her gag removed, but there was no point as she didn't want to do that. Not yet. 'Better if you just rest and save your strength,' she said kindly and walked on.

The girl rested and made no more sound. She even closed her eyes, like she was safe and could finally relax.

Hetty thought, as they walked, that there was no point in carrying a sheep if it wasn't hurt. You made them walk if they could. You shepherded them, of course, but you let an animal stand on its own feet if you could. By rights, she should have set the girl down and freed her legs. Not her arms and gag - they ought to stay.

It was a peculiar thought and Hetty wondered at it. It made her smile, having the girl like this, dependent in a way. Like being nursed, or carried like a baby. It wasn't a problem carrying her, what with the child being so light. She carried the girl easily so she could stay like she was, and in a strange way she liked the child like this.

Esdee trotted by Hetty's side, happy he'd done something good. The dog could always tell when her owner was pleased.

---

The farmhouse was empty of course. There was only Hetty there since her Ma and Pa died. Abi never ventured back, and that suited Hetty. She had gotten used to being on her own. Just her and the dog and the sheep outside. No one bothered Hetty here and she liked it that way. As far as she could see, neighbors were fine, when they were needed. Or invited.

The girl looked round as the woman set her down in the big armchair that was her pa's. The place was homely enough if old-fashioned by today's standards. For the first time she wondered where she was from, what she was used to, what she knew. Some city kid who maybe had never seen the country.

If the girl wasn't gagged, maybe she would have pronounced the place 'quaint,' or sniffed at it not having the latest gizmos. But the girl was gagged good and the silence suited Hetty.

The woman looked at the girl, curious how she got to be like this. She squatted down in front of the child, looking into her big eyes. She didn't seem too distressed, she decided. 'That man driving. Was he one of your kinfolk? You know, um, father. Or uncle?'

The girl shook her head.

'Anyone else in the car?'

Another negative reaction from the child.

'He put you in there, right? Sort of a kidnap?'

The girl considered the matter and nodded at first but then shook her head a little. Hetty thought about removing the gag but something stopped her. She stood up and smiled at the trussed girl. 'Well, you can tell me later. For now, I want you to sit there and take it easy. You're probably pretty hungry so I'll go and make something for us.'

Hetty wondered as she prepared the meal for them both. She glanced in at the girl from time to time and saw her sat quite still, not struggling against her tape bonds. She was almost resigned to staying bound. For some reason, the woman thought, I'm glad.

That thought disturbed her and as she prepared the meal she examined both what was running through her head and what she had done. She had carried a bound and gagged girl - probably a victim of some kidnapping - some three miles from a wreck with a dead body, without attempting to free the child. The kid must have a family, maybe who were worried sick about her, wanted her returned safe and sound.

She thought briefly about putting on the TV, watching the news, but there was no point. The chances are the kidnap was a long time ago and unless it was local, there might not be anything about it.

She wondered if in some place in a city the police were looking for clues. She wondered if they would come out this way, along the same track. After all, the man driving was going someplace. Perhaps he left evidence, a trail the cops could follow. Then they'd have to knock on the door here and ask if anyone had seen anything, did anyone know about the car in a ravine with a dead man in it?

But where was the girl from? Where was the man taking her? Would the cops come or would it be some accomplice of the kidnapper? Hetty wondered if she should ask her, but again there didn't seem much point. The girl would know the first part but probably not the second. Hetty should set her free, call the cops, tell them what she found.

It was her public duty. But she lived a private life out here and public duty wasn't something that figured on her horizon. She should do the right thing, whatever that was, but she didn't want to.

Maybe just because she looked like the kind of girl she'd always wanted... That thought did more than disturb Hetty. It stopped her cold.

The girl could be hers, she told herself. She could stay here, dressed as Hetty wanted to dress her own. She could be her daughter. Then no one - especially the bad guys - would find her and take her away. Hetty felt her heart pound hard and she was trembling a little: she would have her own daughter at last.

Hetty hurried the meal and put the plates on the table. Then she lifted the girl on to a chair at the table and carefully, almost lovingly, removed her tape gag. The glue was stuck to her skin and she gave a couple of yelps as she carefully peeled it off her rosy cheeks.

'Hi,' she said. 'I'm Hetty. Don't speak, honey. Just drink this water.' She had put out a glass of water and lifted it to the bound girl's lips. Full, pretty lips like she always imagined she'd see on her own daughter. The girl gulped the drink, glad to satisfy her thirst, and when she had drained the glass Hetty said: 'I'm going to feed you know. I don't want you to talk while I do it. Nod your head if you understand.' She paused. 'In fact, you mustn't speak at all until I tell you, okay?'

The pretty girl looked doubtful but nodded her head. She was good too: she stayed quiet as Hetty fed her, spooning the rich, tasty stew to the girl's lips, wiping her chin if she dribbled. When she had cleared her plate Hetty looked at the child earnestly.

'Remember honey, you mustn't speak,' she told the girl. 'Now I'm going to have my meal and I want you to sit here silent. You are going to be quite safe with me and I will free your arms and legs later. For now, just relax as best you can. Just to remind you to be quiet I want you to hold this in your mouth, between your teeth.' She picked up a wooden spoon from the table and offered it to the girl, across her mouth rather than if it was being used properly. The girl obeyed, opening her mouth and closing her teeth on the shaft of the spoon. Hetty smiled, both at her cooperation and how the spoon gave her a weird, twisted grin. She liked that look.

Then Hetty ate her meal - rather cold now but she didn't mind - looking at the girl as she did so, thinking of what she was going to do. Her mind was in turmoil as thoughts and possibilities tumbled through, but she knew this was going to work out well.

After she had finished Hetty carried the girl upstairs to show the girl her own bedroom (that was how she now regarded it, even if the girl didn't know) with her obediently still holding the spoon in her mouth.

The fact the child was so obedient gave Hetty a buzz she liked.

The room itself was Abi's old bedroom, all pink and soft, and the closet was full of her old clothes that Hetty had never bothered to clear out. The girl looked around the room wide-eyed and looked pleased when the woman set her down on the bed, propping the child against the wall.

Hetty went to the drawers and brought out a peach colored silk scarf she knew Abi had kept in there. Hetty removed the spoon in the girl's jaw and lips, reminded her not to speak as she hadn't given permission yet and carefully tied the scarf round her head so the silk scarf covered the child's lips. It looked good on the girl and emphasized the shape and appeal of her large eyes.

'It isn't a proper gag,' she told the girl with a smile. 'Not like that nasty tape gag you had. But while it's on you must not speak, understand?'

The girl nodded, eyes wide above the scarf. She sat on the bed and watched the woman go through the closet, picking out dresses and skirts and blouses. A little girl's wardrobe that had been left untouched for years. That was the problem with Abi: she wouldn't throw anything away. Hetty laid a selection on the end of the bed and winked at the girl. She couldn't be sure but she seemed to be smiling behind the gag. She wondered if the child knew what was in her mind.

Hetty sat next to the girl and took the silk scarf off her face. 'Now, you may talk but you may only answer my questions.' In front of the girl Hetty tied a deliberate large knot in the middle of the scarf. 'If I think you are rude or try to talk without being spoken to first or shout or anything I don't like - including asking me questions - I will tie this back in your mouth with the knot in your mouth and then you won't speak until tomorrow. Understood?'

'Y-yes, ma'am,' said the girl, her voice croaky from the lengthy enforced silence, eying the gag in front of her face.

Hetty liked being called ma'am. 'Good,' she smiled. 'You've started well. Okay, first question: what is your name?'

'Karyn, ma'am. Karyn Lisa Lambert.'

'Lambert, huh? I think I'll call you Lamb. You know why?'

The girl shook her head.

'It's what I do out here all on my own. I look after sheep. Sheep have lambs,' she smiled, easing the brief look of consternation on the child's face. 'How old are you, Karyn?'

'I'm twelve I guess, ma'am.'

'Guess? You don't know?'

'No ma'am. I've been away from home a while. No one's told me how old I am now.'

Hetty nodded, thinking that perhaps the child had been kept a prisoner someplace for years. Any kidnap stories might be old, any trail cold. 'Twelve. My, you look like you are a nine year old. Tell me, Karyn Lamb, where are you from? Where did you live?'

'Um, I think it was Boston, ma'am.'

Hetty raise an eyebrow. Boston was a long, long way from here. 'How long had you been in the trunk?'

The girl shrugged. 'Uh, I can't remember. I was with Mr Hooper a long time. He kept me....' A pause, a wetness in the girl's eyes for the first time which she blinked away. 'He told me I had to stay with him, no matter what.'

'Mr Hooper? Was he driving the car?'

'Yes, ma'am. He said I had to go with him and not fight or complain. But,' the girl paused, 'I never tried to fight or complain.'

Hetty's eyes widened a little. 'And you did just what you were told. Tell me, Lamb, Where was he taking you, this Mr Hooper?'

Karyn shook her head. 'He didn't tell me ma'am. He said I didn't need to know. I was taken from place to place, in the trunk.' Suddenly the girl's face crumpled into a frown. 'When we crashed, was he hurt?'

Hetty stared at the girl. Karyn hadn't seen in the car when she took her out. She wouldn't know what happened to the man. She opened her mouth to say, he's dead but the child didn't need to know that. Karyn however had broken the first rule: she had asked a question. Hetty sighed and picked up the scarf gag and held it before the girl's face. 'Open wide, honey. You broke the rule: you asked a question without permission.'

Despite looking sorry the girl, to her credit, opened her mouth and allowed the woman to tie the gag in her mouth. Hetty wondered, as she did it, if this was what Mr Hooper did to the girl in their time on the road, whether just for fun he would bind and gag the child. Or did he keep her chained up in some basement?

The woman would find out one day, maybe. She stood and regarded the girl on the bed. 'You'll be spending the night in here. Tomorrow I will remove your gag and I hope you will both do as you are told and perhaps now understand I mean what I say.'

Karyn nodded, looking unhappy. But she didn't struggle as the woman laid the child on the bed and pulled the sheets over her, tight so she couldn't move much.

'Goodnight, Lamb,' Hetty said and left, locking the door behind her.

---

It would be dark by the time she got back to the house, Hetty knew. She stood by the smashed car and tossed the burning rag under it, by the leaking tank, before stepping back as the flames licked up hungrily round the twisted metal. From the track above it, when she climbed up the ravine, she could see it burning rapidly, flames whooshing up and casting a glow in the late afternoon sky. It would be visible for miles but out here there would be little chance of anyone seeing it.

There was a chance that someone searching for this Mr Hooper would see it and come and investigate, but it was a greater risk leaving it untended. And she didn't want a rotting body near here place. Not near her sheep.

Hetty hurried away, back to the farm house, feeling the man's wallet in her pocket.

From the porch of the farm house there was a faint glow in the direction of the wreck but it soon faded as what gas there was left burnt out. Hetty checked on Lamb, was pleased she hadn't moved and hadn't disturbed the gag, so the woman got the flashlight and went looking in the barn for the leg braces she remembered Abi once had.

Nothing ever got thrown away at the farm house. As her old pa said, you never knew when you'd need things out here.

Even the pair of leg braces Hetty's sister wore when she was nine were saved. It was funny how a neighbor - someone who didn't know better - said the ten year old Abi might have bow legs if they weren't corrected. For six months the girl wore the leg braces and had stomped round the house in a mix of annoyance and pride, as if it was in some bizarre way a chance for her to be different to her older sister.

Hetty remembered that the leg braces could be locked at the knees and a few times, just to annoy Abi, she had locked them and watched Abi walk stiff legged round the farm. Now they would be just perfect, Hetty thought as she thought of what she was going to do to the girl. After all, she didn't want the child running off, getting lost or hurt out there.

The woman checked Hooper's wallet before going to bed herself. Seven hundred and twenty dollars cash, an AmEx card with the name T. Hooper on it, a piece of paper with a Los Angeles number and the name Smith on it. Hetty burnt the card and wallet and kept the money and number.

---

She wasn't surprised that Lamb had wet herself in the night. She opened the drapes in the bright morning light and could smell the stale urine in the air. She wasn't mad at the girl, though the child looked scared. Perhaps this Mr Hooper got mad at her if she did that.

'Sit up, Lamb,' she said as she eased the girl up. 'Don't worry about the bed linen. Accidents happen.'

The girl sat up and waited as she removed the gag, the silk sodden with her spit during the night. Karyn didn't say anything as the woman began cutting her tape bonds. She may have been even more surprised when Hetty began cutting her clothes too, carefully snipping them with the tape, but apart from a small whimper of fear that the woman might catch her with the scissors Lamb remained quiet.

Hetty was careful and didn't cut the girl.

'I guess,' said Hetty as the tape and shreds of the child's jeans and sweater came away, 'that you're hungry by now. Well, I have to bathe you first, Lamb, get you dressed and then you can eat.'

The girl nodded as more of her soiled clothes came away.

The bath wasn't hot - a farm house like this didn't have the hottest water around - but Lamb was grateful it was at least warm. She made no effort to bathe herself and allowed Hetty to wash her all over and then dried her. The girl didn't seem especially embarrassed at being seen naked by this stranger and made no effort to hide her sex.

The girl's body may well have been twelve years old but there was little sign of pubescence. Two small bumps where the kid's tits would be, no hair at her slit. Hetty washed it all softly, feeling a certain thrill as she soaped the almost non-existent breasts, making the child's nipples hard.

Hetty wondered if there had been any need to gag the child as she seemed willing to remain quiet. Perhaps it was fear, or shock. Perhaps it was some training by her kidnapper. Or simply it was because Lamb had learnt already that Hetty would gag her if she spoke without permission. Hetty hoped it was the latter. If Lamb was a fast learner it would make the job easier.

She helped the child out of the bath and told Lamb that unless she was told otherwise she always had to put her hands behind her. To the woman's delight she did so at once, even naked like she was. Hetty dried the girl slowly, lovingly.

Hetty took the girl back to Abi's room - Lamb walking with hands behind back as ordered - and the woman pointed to the clothes on the end of the bed. 'As you don't have any other clothes, you will wear these.' She looked at her steadily. 'You are going to be my little girl.'

Lamb looked a little confused but nodded.

'Do you want to know why?'

The girl nodded again.

'The man who kept you in the trunk may have friends who want you, and come looking for you. If I tell anyone who comes by that you are my daughter and we live here alone, they may leave you - and me - alone. But that means you have to behave like my daughter. Understand?'

Lamb nodded.

The clothes - the things Abi had worn when she was in her early teens - fitted Lamb as if they were made for her. She made no sound as she helped the girl step into the pink panties and offered no resistance as she clipped the white training bra on her chest. Hetty wasn't sure why she wanted a bra on her: she had no real swellings there yet but she told herself a growing girl needed a bra.

She slid the lemon yellow petticoat over the girl's head and smoothed it down and then helped her into the red and yellow spotted dress and buttoned it in the back. They were probably clothes a girl like Karyn wouldn't have worn back in Boston, but she was here now and what mattered was what Hetty wanted. And the woman wanted an old-fashioned daughter.

As soon as the woman had finished Lamb remembered the instructions and put her hands behind her back. She stood quite still as Hetty tied red ribbons in her hair, making her blonde hair into bunches by her ears. Finally, where her ears had been exposed she added clip on earrings and at her slender neck she put a child's necklace.

'Do you want to see yourself in the mirror?' Hetty asked as she regarded her handiwork.

The girl nodded and went to stand in front of the full-length mirror, hands still behind her back. She turned this way and that, as if admiring herself, as if pleased with her clothes.

'You may tell me how you feel, Lamb. I won't gag you.'

The girl gave a small smile. 'It feels nice, Ma'am.'

'No, not how the clothes feel. Tell me, how do you feel being my little girl?'

Lamb looked at the woman and blushed. 'Ma'am... I'm not your daughter.'

'That,' said Hetty curtly, 'was rude and inconsiderate.' She picked up the still wet silk gag from the bed. 'Open for your gag and turn round so I can fasten it properly.'

The girl reluctantly opened her mouth and turned to allow the woman to tie it in place.

'You must learn,' said Hetty as she secured the knot behind Lamb's head, 'I will not tolerate answers like that. I asked you how you felt as my girl. I know the clothes are nice, but I wanted to know how you felt belonging to me. Next time I ask you, please remember to answer my question properly. If I say you are my girl, you are my girl. The fact you had a mommy elsewhere - once - makes no difference.'

Tearfully, Lamb nodded when the woman had finished gagging her.

'Now, you will wear the gag until midday and I will remove it so you can eat. In the meanwhile, you can sit in this chair in front of the closet and look at all the girl's clothes I want you to wear because you are mine. I want you to sit with your hands behind your back and you must not - I repeat not - remove your gag or you will be in real trouble!'

When Hetty got back an hour later she was pleased to see Lamb was still sat in the chair in front of the open closet and hadn't removed her gag. But she was angry to see the girl had moved her hands. It took the girl a moment or two before she could get her hands back behind her.

'Lamb!' Hetty stood in front of the girl, hands on hips, glaring. 'I went out to see to the sheep and when I get back you are disobeying me!'

The girl colored up and hung her head. Hetty was annoyed but equally she was secretly pleased. She knew discipline was important and was glad of the opportunity to show what she would do if disobeyed. That was how she'd been brought upon the farm - you couldn't assume things would go well unless you made them go well.

'Stand up,' said Hetty.

Lamb stood, face red and hands behind back.

'I have never spanked a little girl before but I'm sorry to say I have to do it now.' She sat on the chair and indicated Lamb should lie over her lap with her pretty little butt in the air. She told the child to stretch so her hands were on the floor on one side and toes touching the floor on the other. Then the woman eased the short little dress up, lifted the petticoat back and slipped her panties down clear of her butt. The girl's pale, perfectly smooth buttocks were in front of her, trembling slightly either from the effort of stretching in the required position or from fear. Either way it pleased the woman.

Hetty couldn't resist the temptation. She ran her fingertips over the twin mounds of the girl's butt, letting her fingers slide into the valley between them, causing the girl to gasp slightly into her gag. The ravine, she smiled to herself. Then Hetty lifted her hand and said gently: 'Ten smacks this time. It will be more next time I catch you disobeying me.'

She smacked hard, the flat of her hand and her strong arms sending a sharp report round the silent room - silent at least until the girl started sobbing and making agonized yelps into her gag.

Hetty counted the smacks aloud, pacing herself so between them she could admire the slowly spreading red glow on her cute ass cheeks. Lamb squirmed with each smack, yelping anew. By the seventh she was crying rather than sobbing and by the end she was almost howling.

'Are you sorry?' she asked as she stood the girl straight.

The girl, sniffing back tears, nodded. She had put her hands behind her as expected but Hetty guessed she was trying to cool her burning ass by rubbing it a little.

'Don't rub yourself,' Hetty barked. 'Leave your bottom alone. You have to feel the glow for as long as it lasts!'

The girl stopped fidgeting.

'Now tell me: will you disobey me again?'

The girl shook her head.

'Straighten your clothes,' she told Lamb, 'But leave your panties round your ankles. You can spend the next hour with your panties round your ankles, to remind you to be good.'

Sniffing back tears, the girl smoothed her dress down.

'Listen to me, Lamb,' said Hetty. 'What happened there was you did something without permission. All little girls do things wrong but in my house you only do what you are allowed, with my permission. You are a sweet little girl Lamb but you have been very naughty,' sighed Hetty. 'I don't want to punish you too much but there will be times when you have to learn discipline. Try to think of this as an example of what will happen to you. However, even if you are good all the time - a perfect little girl in every way as I expect you to be - I will still spank your bottom at least once a week so you don't ever forget your true position here.'

The girl nodded again, and tried not to cry at the prospect. Then she had to walk round the house with her panties round her slim ankles restricting her stride while Hetty sat and watched the show.

---

Lamb did not wear a gag all the time, and she got used to the leg braces pretty quickly.

When Hetty first showed them to her she had been freed from the gag but she made the mistake of asking why she should wear them - after all, they did look frightening with their heavy iron rods and leather straps - so naturally the gag went back in. But it was unfair to silence her for a reasonable question and Hetty changed her mind.

'I like you silent,' she told the girl as she removed the silk scarf gag, 'but I think you need a break from this wet gag. You really could do with a proper gag that won't absorb moisture in this way. Did Mr Hooper gag you with anything other than tape? Go on, Lamb, you may answer.'

'Yes, ma'am. He made me wear what he called a ball gag.'

'Was that effective?'

Lamb nodded, unsure whether he still had permission to speak, but risked it anyway. 'Please, Ma'am, it did. It filled my mouth with rubber and had a small screw in it, so it could be expanded, he said. It hurt sometimes but I couldn't speak.' She hesitated but continued: 'If he said I was very naughty it was opened to the biggest. That hurt a lot.'

Hetty nodded, regretting having set fire to the wreck so soon. Perhaps the gag had been in there, and she could have used it. On the other hand, she was sure she could make one. There was bound to be an old rubber ball in the barn, perhaps one that EsDee had played with as a pup, which would help. And some leather straps for the fastenings.

'Tell me,' said Hetty, feeling a twinge of excitement at the thought of Lamb ball-gagged, 'did the man tie you in other ways?'

The girl swallowed. 'Yes. He used ropes on me mostly. And some chains, but not when we were on the road.'

Hetty raised an eyebrow. 'You mean, he stopped someplace and chained you up?'

Lamb nodded, miserably. 'We stopped by what he called safe houses, where people he knew lived. They had chains and stuff, for boys and girls like me.'

'There were boys too?'

'Yes ma'am. Sometimes more boys than girls.'

Hetty smiled a little. This idea of a network of safe houses appealed to her. She imagined quiet, suburban houses with neat lawns and borders of flowers, and behind the facade were children bound and gagged, chained and maybe spanked like Lamb had been. Apartments with sound proof rooms. Or even a farm, like hers.

'Okay, Lamb, that's enough talk for now. You will be quiet while I put the leg braces on you. You wanted to know why you have to wear them - well, it is so you can't run away. You will be able to walk although not easily and it will amuse me to see you struggle.'

The girl nodded and watched as the woman fitted the first of the leg braces to her leg. The straps buckled round her thin thigh just below her panties and again at her knee, both above and below. Finally the wide ankle straps was secured before Hetty tightened the wing nut at his knee to stop the girl bending her leg.

'You must never touch that nut,' Hetty told her. 'If you do I will saw it off and as no one can remove the braces you will be in these permanently, I promise. Understand?'

Lamb understood.

'For the time being, you may wear just the one brace. I will put the other one on later. For now, walk round and show me how you look.'

The girl in the pretty dress obliged, swinging her leg awkwardly at first but within a few minutes getting into a rhythm. It was ungainly, but surprisingly exciting for the woman. The thought occurred to her that not only did she like having a little girl around but it was even more fun to have her restrained in some way. Even better, someone who looked like Abi did.

Hetty, as a teenager, had often gone to sleep at night diddling her clit as she thought of her younger sister being her prisoner, her slave. It was a thought that even after all these years excited her still.

Unconsciously, Hetty slid her hand between her legs as she thought of her sister as her prisoner and watched Lamb, dressed in Abi's old clothes and hands behind back, walk round the room. She was fingering herself almost before she realized what she was doing, but as it felt good she smiled and continued.

Lamb saw her and seemed to nod as if she understood, as if she'd seen this kind of behavior before. She carried on walking as the woman brought herself to a noisy climax.

---

The ball gag was a success. The ball, chewed by Esdee as a puppy, was badly marked but it fitted in Lamb's mouth perfectly and the leather strap harness slipped easily over the girl's blond hair. Carefully, Hetty fastened each buckle: the one behind her head, the one on top and the one on the small strap below his chin. She was grateful Lamb had drawn a picture of what Hooper's ball gag had looked like so she was able to copy it.

'One day, Lamb, we'll get one for you which can be adjusted, like you said Mr Hooper used on you. Do you like this one?'

The girl, wearing a pink and white striped dress, nodded. She looked funny but cute with her jaw distended and mouth held open. Hetty liked the look.

'Now, as a special treat - seeing as how you have both your leg braces on and look so pretty - you can masturbate. Do you know what that is?'

Lamb nodded. She understood what masturbation was - frigging herself, as Mr Hooper called it.

'I know you aren't looking at all your lovely dresses but you can watch me play with myself as I watch you.' Hetty hiked up her skirt and plunged her fingers into her already wet cunt. 'However, you must not cum before me, understand?'

Lamb nodded once more and lifted her skirt and slipped her hand into her yellow, lace edged panties and start rubbing up and down, slowly to prevent herself cumming too soon.

It was different for Hetty. She frigged herself furiously and as her 'daughter' looked so sweet in her dress with her new gag and leg braces that the woman couldn't help herself climaxing quickly.

After a good two minutes she felt the last pulses of her wonderful orgasm fade away. 'Good,' the woman sighed, watching the girl in front of her masturbating still. 'As you haven't cum yet you must stop. I will spank you too, so come over here.'

Lamb groaned into her gag at being denied the opportunity to climax but she came to bend over Hetty's lap, hoping it was no more than twenty smacks this time. And hoping she might be allowed to cum later, when her bottom didn't hurt as much.

---

The car that stooped outside the farmhouse was from California. The woman who got out was Abi.

Hetty hadn't seen her sister in eleven years and, if the woman hadn't said, 'Hello Hetty,' she might have thought it was some stranger. Someone lost.

Hetty stood on the porch, staring at the well-dressed female. Abi was - for a woman in her mid thirties - very attractive. City life had clearly been good for her and with her expensive business suit, her high heels and long shapely legs belied the fact she had been brought up on a sheep farm. Even her hair was different - not the tousled spiky cut of a farm girl but an elegant, waved style that made her look like a million dollars. Judging by her clothes, the expensive watch at her wrist and the car, she was worth that.

'The place hasn't changed much - and nor have you, sister,' said Abi.

Esdee, standing by Hetty, gave a small growl as if he didn't trust the newcomer but he stayed close to his mistress.

Lamb, fortunately not gagged but still in her leg braces, came out on to the porch.

'My, oh my,' said Abi, smirking. 'You have a daughter. How pretty.' She glanced at Hetty's left hand and saw no wedding ring. 'And you not married.'

'No, I'm not married,' said Hetty. 'Lamb - my daughter - and I live here alone. What do you want? There's nothing anyone owes you out here.' She paused, feeling an anger well up in her about her sister. 'Ma and Pa died some time ago. You got the letters even if you couldn't come to the funerals.'

Abi shrugged. 'I'm sorry. By the time I got them, it was too late. I was... let's say inconvenienced. I couldn't have made it anyway.'

'So you thought you'd see if they left you anything.'

'No. The lawyer's letter made it clear. They said you got everything. Which is fine, really. I have my own income now. My own place out west. California. You should visit sometime.'

'I have no reason to go anyplace. This is my home. Was yours too. Ma and Pa died broken hearted the way you just went off, never coming back.'

'There is a world beyond those hills, you know that?' Abi's voice was edged with annoyance.

Hetty didn't reply.

Abi sighed. 'I didn't come here to fight with you, Hetty. What you have here is yours and it is your way of life. There's nothing here that I want. At least, I don't think there is.' She turned her gaze to the girl in the green dress. 'Looks like one of my old dresses,' the woman said with a slow smile. 'Never thought it looked good on me but it suits her with her blonde hair.'

'You know we don't throw things away if we don't have to,' said Hetty, defensively.

Abi laughed. 'Quite right. How far is it to the nearest town? Thirty miles? You can hardly just go and pick up a new dress, can you?' Suddenly she stopped laughing, her face set like stone. 'Indeed, how fortunate my old leg braces fit her so well.'

'She... um, has a problem,' said Hetty, hesitantly. 'They help her.'

Abi looked evenly at her sister and then turned her attention back to the little girl. 'You have a suitable name for someone who lives out here, little girl.'

Lamb stared at the woman. He hadn't been given permission to speak so he remained quiet.

'Does the child say anything or is she dumb, too?'

'She's scared of strangers,' said Hetty.

'I'm her aunt,' said Abi. 'It's just that I haven't been back in a while. How old is she?'

'Tell her, Lamb. Go tell your aunt Abi how old you are.'

The child hesitated and said, quietly: 'Please ma'am, I'm eight.'

The smartly dressed woman regarded the child, curiously. 'You look older than eight.' She looked back at Hetty. 'Why didn't you write me, tell me you were having a child? I would have sent some money over to help.'

Hetty shrugged. 'Didn't seem any point. I can cope. Me and the dog.'

'And the child,' said Abi carefully. 'You didn't mention Lamb.'

'Sure.' Hetty colored up a little. 'Lamb too.'

'I'm sure you aren't pleased to see me but can I come in?'

Hetty took a deep breath and then gestured to the door. 'Okay. Guess you'd like a drink.'

---

It was cool in the house. Abi sat where she used to on the sofa, when they were growing up. Her place. 'Things look much the same as when I was last here,' said the woman. She watched Lamb perch on a stool opposite her, watching the girl pull her short skirt down awkwardly, iron straightened legs in front of her.

Hetty sat next to the child, in the big chair that was pa's back in the old days.

'Handsome child,' said Abi. 'Must take more after her dad. Doesn't seem to be much of our side in her.' A pause. 'Anyone I know?'

'Just someone passing through.' Hetty was guarded.

'The leg braces. They seem to be locked at the side, the way you did them with me, remember?' Abi laughed a little. 'You used to have me hopping and stomping round the place. Gagged too, when I objected. You remember the block of wood you made me wear in my mouth?'

Hetty remembered. 'You did a lot of stomping on your own, anyway, if you didn't get your way.'

'Maybe. So Lamb needs straight legs, huh? Kind of weird, both her and me, wearing the same things, in the same house.'

Hetty blushed a little but shrugged. 'Must run in the family,' she said.

Abi didn't comment. After a few moments she said: 'Perhaps Lamb would be so kind as to get me a drink of water.'

Hetty nodded to Lamb, who struggled up and walked out awkwardly to the kitchen on her leg braces, her thin short dress flapping. Abi watched her go and then said: 'You always wanted a daughter, Hetty. I expect she's got my old room to go with my old clothes. Things turned out okay it seems.'

'I was lucky, I guess.'

'I guess so. Now do you want to know why I'm here?'

Hetty nodded.

'A friend of mine, traveling from the east, taking in the country roads seems to have got lost round these parts.'

'How long ago?'

'Few months. Was due in LA in May, but never showed.'

Hetty felt a small chill in her but she tried not to show it.

'Seems he checked in at a motel forty miles from here....' She paused as Lamb came back in with a glass of water. Abi took it with a nod of thanks.

'Lamb, go up to your room, there's a good girl,' said Hetty.

The child, watched by both women, made her way slowly to the stairs and up them. Awkwardly, but without complaint. Neither woman spoke until they heard Abi's old bedroom door close.

'As I was saying,' resumed Abi, having taken a long drink of her water. 'My friend seems to have told the motel manager he was taking the old Mountain road. You know, the one that runs about three miles from here, going up into the High Pass.'

'Ain't nothing but a dirt track now. Dangerous route,' said Hetty, heart thumping. 'No one uses it much, not now there's a better road over by the Creek.'

'That's why he went that way, keep out of the traffic. He wanted to go the long way, avoid congestion. He asked my advice. I said if he was coming through here, it was a good road. If you were careful.'

'What was he driving?' Hetty tried to sound merely curious but her voice was a little tight, her hands clenched a little too much in her lap.

'Silver colored saloon. New York plates.' She pursed her lips. 'Funny thing is, there's a burned out wreck in a ravine not far from here, off the old track. Can't make out much of what's left: paint all peeled and burnt, plates melted in the blaze. You see that happen?'

'No. Don't go over that way much.'

'Pretty sure there's the remains of someone in there. I think it might be the man I'm looking for. Did he call in here by any chance before he drove off the road?'

Hetty shook her head and took a deep breath. 'I saw the wreck, few weeks ago. Dog discovered it while I was out looking for a lost sheep. Didn't see it happen though. Didn't go close.'

'You tell the police?'

'What for? Old Sheriff Larrell might wander out but he's more bothered with the new bars in town, some new workers at the mill moved in. So how come you know this man, advising him to take the quiet roads?'

Abi studied her sister. 'You know, you're acting kind of strange.'

'I'm used to my own company. Me and Lamb. We don't welcome strangers.' Hetty paused, eyes narrowed. 'You ain't answered my question: who was this man?'

'Friend of mine. Doing some business for me. Delivering something I needed - or rather, my clients need. Uh, he was bringing it from east.' Abi regarded her sister carefully. 'Wanted to take the quiet roads. It was something he didn't want anyone else to find.'

'Like what? You into narcotics?'

'No,' Abi smiled. 'Nothing like that. I'm a business woman. Let's say I collect things for others. Buying and selling hard to get items.'

'But it isn't legal, is it?.' Hetty felt a shiver. She knew with a certainty what this man had been doing and her sister was part of it.

'Lots of things aren't quite legal.' Abi shrugged, sitting back and looking relaxed. Then she sat forward and said, quietly. 'It was good of you to look after the girl for me. Guess I should be taking her to those who want to own her on the west coast.'

'No!' Hetty tried to jump up to protest, deny, even shout at her sister but her legs felt weak. Abi was up, though, looking pleased with herself.

'Don't be stupid, Hetty. This is bigger than you and your goddamn farm. There's a lot of money in this for me. I'm going to take the kid or if you stop me, I'll be back with a dozen men who deal with this often.'

'I'll be long gone,' Hetty snapped back.

'To where? You going to leave your fucking sheep to rot? The girl's mine and I'm taking her now!'

That was when Lamb, at the bottom of the stairs, said: 'I'm not going anyplace with you, ma'am.' She was holding Hetty's father's old shotgun. It looked too big for the girl, nestling in her small thin arms but she had a finger on the trigger. At this range, she couldn't miss Abi.

Hetty managed to get to her feet and saw that Lamb looked determined. She certainly wasn't scared or angry. And she didn't have the leg braces on, so she'd been able to come down stairs quietly, gun in hand.

'Lamb!' exclaimed Hetty.

'It's okay, ma'am. I know why this woman came by. I don't want to go with her, all tied up in the trunk of the car, like before.'

'You don't have a choice,' said Abi grimly. 'So put that gun down before you hurt yourself.' She took a threatening step towards the girl but Lamb gestured at the woman to step back. Wisely, she did. 'You can't stop me,' Abi glowered at the unwavering gaze of the blonde child. 'Once others know you're here they'll come for you.' She glared at her sister. 'They won't be so understanding, so get her to give me the gun and we'll call it evens.'

'No,' said Hetty. 'You stay here with us. No one will know where you are.'

Abi's face folded into a mixture of horror and scowl. 'What? You can't keep me here,' she spat.

'We can,' said Lamb, grinning. 'You can wear your old leg braces so you can't run away.'

---

It was amazing Abi's old leg braces still fitted the woman, even if they were at maximum extension.

Abi was made to strip and her expensive clothes tossed into the corner of the room before they were put on. 'The dog can sleep on those old clothes,' laughed Hetty. Then she set about seeing to her sister's needs.

With her hands bound behind her and her mouth filled with not only a scarf gag but also taped over, Abi glowered and fumed silently as Hetty clamped the braces on her legs, locking the joints. Then she set about filing down the knee adjustment nuts so they couldn't be adjusted. Finally Hetty threaded a very short chain between her sister's braced legs at the knees and padlocked it in place, restricting the naked woman to short, awkward steps.

Turning to the rest of her sister's bondage, Hetty slipped another length of chain around Abi's bound wrists and padlocked that so when she cut the ropes, Abi would have to keep her hands behind her back. To make sure the prisoner didn't somehow try to get her hands to the leather straps on her legs, Abi's chained hands were secured to a third chain, put round her neck, thus keeping her hands high up her back.

'We need to put padlocks on her brace straps, ma'am,' said Lamb, watching as Hetty completed the bondage.

'And a proper gag, I shouldn't think,' said the woman, admiring the glowering, restrained naked woman. Abi, Hetty noticed, had two small tattoos on her right breast, either side of the nipple - tattoos of a fingerprint whorl, as if she had her nipple squeezed between someone's dirty thumb and forefinger. Laughing, that was what Hetty did to her sister, making her squirm and moan into her gag as she pinched hard.

'Guess we'll have to get the same done on the other titty,' laughed Hetty, fondling the other nipple so it grew long and hard.

'Why is it there?' asked Lamb, fascinated.

'Who knows? Some sort of secret society. Maybe the ones who kidnap little girls like you. And boys.' Hetty squeezed the nipple harder, making Abi buck in her bonds. 'It's how they tell each other.'

'Are we going to punish her, ma'am?' asked Lamb.

'Well, that depends on how good she is,' laughed Hetty. 'Way I see it, if she behaves she will only get a light spanking. But every time she misbehaves, I guess there'll be something a lot more painful for her. Like right now. I think it's time she took a little walk, right?' Hetty winked at the child.

---

The ground was uneven, stony and well dotted with sheep droppings, but the naked Abi did her best to keep walking, Esdee growling at her ankles to urge her on. Hetty and the child followed the struggling, stiff-legged woman and laughed as she stumbled and faltered.

The sheep moved away a little as the lumbering human approached but carried on grazing with one eye on the strange figure, unsure why she was being shepherded in this way.

'I'm enjoying this,' confided Hetty. 'When she was small she wouldn't come out and help with the sheep but I guess now she might. Guess it's kind of payback time for all the time-wasting she did back then.'

Lamb nodded but didn't say anything and looked deep in thought - a point Hetty noted a little later on their walk.

'Something wrong?' she asked the girl at her side.

'Only that Abi ought to be a sheep. If she's out here among them.'

Hetty stopped and stared at the child, whistling to the dog to circle Abi with a low bark to halt her. 'You mean, my sister should be with the sheep full time?'

'Sure,' said Lamb. 'All the time. I guess she'd need a coat like them to keep her warm when it gets cold, but we could make her one from some sort of sheepskin and zip her into it.'

Hetty nodded with a broadening grin. 'I guess we should - only we'd sew her into it. She could spend her days out here, of course. Great idea, Lamb!'

'But there's another thing, ma'am,' said Lamb quietly. 'She's got my leg braces.'

'I know. It was good of you to come and rescue me but I guess I have to punish you for taking your leg braces off without permission.'

Lamb nodded. 'Will I be spanked hard?'

'Sure. But you can play with yourself and cum afterwards, as a thankyou from me. You like that?'

The child nodded vigorously.

'So you want the braces back, huh?'

Lamb smiled at the woman.

'Well honey,' continued Hetty. 'Guess they are Abi's and I think they should stay on her as she's kind of the restless type. But I'm kind of handy with metal and welding, so I figure I can make you a new set - your size.'

'And a gag,' said Lamb. 'I kinda miss that too, being all safe and secure and made to be quiet.'

'Okay, a gag too.' Hetty looked back at her sister, simply standing with the sheepdog set in front of her, eyes on the naked, restrained woman to make sure she didn't move until the signal came. 'Looks like I'm going to be busy.' She paused and laughed again, before continuing. 'Then again, maybe you'd like a sheep's coat for yourself, right?'

Lamb smiled and nodded. 'Yes please, ma'am. Then Abi and I can be your little flock.'

Hetty smiled and then said: 'Well, the start of one. I figure we could acquire a few more and have a real good sized flock of human sheep. But you honey will always be special. You're my Lamb.'

Lamb grinned and reached into her dress pocket and brought out the old silk scarf gag. Without saying anything she tied it tight in her own mouth, lifted her skirt and hauled her panties down round her ankles and then put her little hands behind her back.

Just as Hetty liked.