The Possession of Tyra Dove

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Tyra climbed the narrow lane that wound upwards through the woods, pondering what Laurie had told her.

Witchcraft? What is she thinking of?

There was obviously a more rational explanation to what had happened to Sadie Finch. If a person was subjected to sustained mental and physical suffering for long enough, it was quite possible for them to lose their identity. Whether Everett Gamble had committed a crime or not, he was in Tyra’s view, guilty of s****l sadism at the very least, and it did make her wonder what else might be occurring up here.

The road leveled out some, and the trees began to thin out. To her left was a row of cottages, and to her right, a small run-down chapel, its windows broken, and its stone walls bedecked with creeping ivy. As she passed an old green sign which told her she had just entered, ‘Foley, Mass.’, she glanced down the side of one of the cottages – and then suddenly stamped her foot on the brake. She could have sworn she had just glimpsed a naked woman working the damp soil with a gardening hoe! She slowly backed up until she was level with the side of the cottage again. On the fence was a mailbox with the name ‘William Swagger’ stenciled on it. The plot of land beside the cottage was empty.

That’s it then. You imagined it. Laurie’s tale has got you hallucinating things.

She put the car into park and looked through the windscreen at the deserted lane.

Okay, just a quick look.

She turned off the engine and then stepped out into the cool air. There was a narrow footpath running alongside the cottage which Tyra followed until she reached the spot where she thought she had seen the woman. She peered over a picket fence, and sure enough, imprinted in the soft earth were the footprints of bare feet. She continued along the path until she was level with the back yard, and there, kneeling at the edge of a vegetable patch, was Tyra’s naked girl. She was so intent upon pulling weeds from the earth that she was oblivious to Tyra, who stared in shocked amazement. She had long blonde hair, which had fallen forward, hiding her features as she concentrated on her task, and her exposed flesh was smooth and pale.

Unsure of how to approach this embarrassing situation, Tyra cleared her throat and the girl jumped to her feet and turned to face her. Now Tyra could see that she was not entirely naked, but was strapped into a kind of leather harness which nonetheless did little to conceal her modesty. The lower strap ran between her buttocks, under her crotch, and then up her stomach where it was buckled to another strap which looped around the base of each off her breasts, thrusting them outward. For a long moment, the girl just stared at Tyra, her fingers covered with dirt, her pink n*****s jutting forward in the crisp air, and her toes digging into the wet grass.

She must be freezing! Why the hell is she dressed like that?

“Are you okay?” Tyra ventured.

The girl stayed silent, but her eyes flickered anxiously towards the back door of the cottage. Then she whispered, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I saw you from the road and I wondered if you needed any help,” Tyra said.

The girl shook her head.

“You’re sure?” Tyra persisted.

“Please. Go now.”

There’s something wrong. She’s afraid.

“Look,” Tyra said. “Just answer me this. Are you being kept here against your will?”

“No, she isn’t.”

Startled, Tyra spun around to see a man standing in the doorway of the cottage. He looked about fifty, with a gray crew cut, a weathered face, and brown, narrow eyes.

Quickly regaining her composure, Tyra said, “I assume you are William Swagger?”

“I am. And who the f**k are you?”

Tyra felt her temperature rising. “I was just passing and I saw this young lady, and well, look at her. Why is she wearing that thing in this weather?”

Swagger regarded her belligerently. “Are you a dyke? Like what you see?”

What did he just say to me?

Suppressing a violent urge to vault the fence and knock him on his ass, Tyra said, “No, I do not like, and I’m wondering if the authorities would either?”

Now Swagger came down the steps and approached the fence but Tyra held her ground. “Confident little b***h, aren’t you?”

“Call me a b***h again, and you’ll find out just how confident.”

“Like to play, do you? Well, why don’t you come on over here? I could have some fun with you.”

Refusing to rise to the bait, Tyra turned towards the girl who had taken a nervous step backwards and was now actually standing in the vegetable patch.

“I’ll ask you again,” Tyra said to her, more firmly now. “Is this man holding you under duress?”

Swagger turned to look at her and the girl quickly shook her head. “No.”

Turning back to Tyra, Swagger said, “Get over here, Julie.”

Obediently, the girl came up to his side. Then, keeping his eyes on Tyra’s face, Swagger put his arm around her and jiggled her right breast.

“Why don’t you explain the situation to this interfering cow?” he said, as he pinched her n****e between his fingers. Julie looked at her feet and Swagger put his other hand under her chin, raising her face.

Julie said meekly, “William is my husband.”

Tyra opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. She thought back to Laurie’s story of Sadie Finch, and how she had apparently willingly married the abusive Everett Gamble. If Julie didn’t want her help, there was nothing she could do about it. Swagger had an arrogant sneer on his face now, as if he had won some kind of victory. He was still playing with Julie’s breasts, bouncing them and flipping at them with the palms of his hands, and to add insult, he was now openly appraising Tyra’s ass. Inexplicably, she was suddenly worried that her panty line might be showing.

Feeling angry and also slightly foolish, Tyra said, “I’m going to report what I have seen to the Lattingdon police anyway.”

“Please your goddam self. We’re not breaking any laws. Now get away from my fence before I call the cops.”

Tyra glared but decided not to say anything further. This asshole was taking great pleasure in goading her. Trembling with rage, she walked back to her car. It was only when she had started the engine and pulled away that she fully registered something she had noticed during the heated exchange – a small pair of overlapping V’s tattooed on Julie’s upper thigh.