On the 27th January 1997, John Parsons was finally released from 2 years of false imprisonment. In 1995 he had been charged with raping, torturing and indecent assaulting an 18-year-old girl but was cleared by the judge due to a lack of evidence. There had been a public outcry amongst females that this man, who everyone seemed to know was guilty, was let off scott-free. He wasn’t free for long however. A group of girls who during Parsons’ incarceration became known as "The Avenging Angels" had decided to take the law into their own hands. If John Parsons had known what would happen to him after his acquittal, he would probably have wished that the judge had locked him up at the outset, guilty or not.
The abduction of Parsons had been a major headline at the time and had continued to be covered quite comprehensively over the next two years. Various police teams had been involved in the hunt for Parsons and his captors, but as yet they had got nowhere. Then one day, completely out of the blue, they received a phone call giving them detailed instructions as to the whereabouts of Parsons. This was the first time that they had had any idea as to where he was and although it seemed that his captors had left the area a few days before, they would certainly have a better chance of apprehending them, now that they had some kind of crime scene to work at. The story of Parsons abduction had stayed in the headlines due to the fact that during the past two years the police and the press had been sent photographs and tapes of Parsons actually being tortured by the girls. Although they had no faces to work with, they had voices, accents and various clips of females that they gradually tried to piece together. What hampered them was the fact that the majority of the female public not to mention a large proportion of males were on the side of the "Angels."
The wind was blowing a gale when the police arrived at the cottage, 25 miles from Manchester, in the heart of the Peak District. The area was probably the most inhospitable area in England and very few people lived out here, least of all in the winter. The cottage was part of a private estate and was usually let out to holiday-makers in the summer. The area around was all private property and access was strictly prohibited without prior agreement with the landowners. Dressed in heavy winter coats the 6 officers trudged up the muddy slopes of Hawk’s Hill to where they had been told they could find Parsons. A small stone cottage appeared through the mist and rain as they walked on. A few minutes later they reached the cottage. After checking around it for a way in and finding none, they eventually decided to break the door down to gain access. It was not easy as the door was an extremely old heavy oak one and it took several minutes for them to get anywhere. Finally it gave way and after finding the lights surprisingly working they quickly realized that this was indeed Parson’s prison.
There were bloodstains on the walls and floor. Chains hung from the walls and ceiling with manacles at the ends of them. Various kinds of whips and beating implements were left lying around as if they were scattered deliberately to shock the first visitors. A photo album lay on a table, which had a huge collection of photographs of Parsons being tortured. The police were horrified at the cruelty that these girls displayed. Not surprisingly there were no faces again, but there were lots of body shots of the girls who were quite often topless, and these could well help the investigation.
A few moments later they found Parsons. Even the most hardened of the police had to feel some kind of sympathy for the man. He was naked and hanging by his wrists in a large stone room at the back of the cottage. It was freezing cold in there and they guessed initially that he would probably have died of exposure. His entire body was covered with cuts and bruises and quite clearly he had been recently whipped severely. Dried blood covered his body. A heavy stone block hung from his testicles, which were severely bruised and swollen, as was his penis, which had clearly figured in the most recent whipping. He was gagged with a rubber ball gag that was strapped around his head. His eyes were swollen and blacked and the rest of his face had been beaten badly. Heavy bulldog clips were fastened to his nipples and penis, and there were darts stuck in various parts of his body, that must have been thrown at him after the whipping. It was a horrendous sight to see any human being in this state, having had to endure so much pain. What was most incredible was that he was still alive!
A helicopter flew in and took Parsons to hospital where he spent the next two weeks in intensive care before he was moved to a recovery ward. The police then began their interviews.
It became clear from initial questioning that what had happened to Parsons involved a lot more people than those involved directly. Funding for the girls was coming from somewhere. Apparently they were staying in posh hotels in Manchester and Sheffield in between their stays at the cottage. Parsons told of conversations he’d overheard about someone "of like mind" that he thought was male, sending cash and providing various equipment and services. He told also of visits by various other females, who he was never allowed to see who occasionally were involved in his torture but more often than not just came to see and offer their help if the girls needed it. He was sure that some of them were female police officers. It was a much bigger operation than was first thought and the police were going to have problems. It was not surprising to hear of possible rogue police involvement. They had never been near finding Parsons until the phone call and it seemed that things weren’t going to be easy in the hunt for the female perpetrators. They spent weeks going through the photographs putting names (probably false) to bodies. Photofit pictures of the girls were done and posted all over the country. No one came forward. Forensic scientists studied the cottage from top to bottom, but it would be months before they could draw any information that would lead to anything. In the meantime, Parsons was encouraged to recount the whole of the 2 years in as much detail as possible. This was not going to be pleasant but it had to be done. When the suggestion of the possibility of a book being published and even a film of his ordeal being made, he set to work on it with enthusiasm.
There was initially a rather sick feeling in Parsons stomach as he recounted the first few hours of his incarceration. In some ways they were the worst few hours of the whole thing. The initial realization that he was going to be severely hurt by these girls and then the actual pain itself was a terrifying ordeal. However, as he went back over it all, he gradually became aware that what had happened to him could be incredibly sexually arousing. Although most people regarded Parsons as deserving of the retribution, he was in fact innocent of the charges that were originally lodged against him. He had not tortured and raped the young girl; in fact he had never met her before the trial. He was a complete innocent who had had the most extremely unfortunate clash of coincidences that had made him appear as guilty as they could be. His ordeal, for an innocent, had been horrific. What had happened to him was terrifying but now he was making his recovery he was starting to realize that there was something incredibly sexual about it. He had, with a fair amount of effort, found a young sexy female biographer to help him to write his account. It had not been easy to arrange, but with his story being so fascinating to so many people, he realized that he actually had a lot of clout when it came to having it published. The idea of having a young woman sat with him while he told his story was very arousing.
Kerry Fisher was 22 years old and was very attractive. She arrived at Parsons flat wearing a short black skirt, black high heels and a white blouse. She had brought another female colleague along with her as part of the agreement, which Parsons was perfectly happy about, especially as she too was young and attractive and was dressed similarly to Kerry. The two girls, along with most other people still believed that Parsons was guilty of his original charge, and didn’t have any sympathy for him. The reason why Kerry was keen to do the story was firstly, because it would be a lucrative one, making her a good few quid, and secondly, because she wanted to hear what the girls had done to him from the horse’s mouth, as it were. The second girl was introduced as Melissa and the three of them sat down to begin the process of recounting the story. Kerry switched on the tape recorder and asked Parsons to start the story from the very beginning of the abduction.
"I’ll interrupt from time to time to ask you questions and try to prompt you but otherwise just keep talking freely. I need to know how you reacted to things, what you were thinking, I need descriptions of surroundings, clothes worn by the girls, that sort of thing. Detail is important in a story. Tell me everything," she said. Parsons began right at the beginning.
"I was walking home from the newsagent near my home…it was about 8am, when I came across a removal lorry parked across the road from my house. A young girl was in the back of the lorry struggling with something heavy. She was about 20 years old. Long brown hair, slim sexy. Naturally I stopped and asked her if she needed a hand. ‘Yeah, thanks,’ she said to me. So I went up into the back of the lorry. ‘Could you just go down the back there and get the sack barrow?’ she had said pointing into the far end of the truck. I did so happily. The lorry was quite full and I had to clamber over a few things to try to get it. When I reached the barrow I remember the girl throwing a canister of something in my direction and then jumping out of the lorry and shutting the doors. It was some kind of gas and within a few seconds I was knocked out.”
“The next thing I remember was waking up in the lorry handcuffed and gagged with my ankles tied together. I didn’t know how long I’d been in there, probably a couple of hours. I was really nervous at this point and obviously I knew why I’d been kidnapped. It was clear that they thought that I was guilty of raping the girl, which of course I wasn’t. Anyway I was becoming quite worried at this point and I was trying desperately to get out of my bonds but it was no use, I just had to wait it out. The lorry was still moving and it was probably another half an hour before it stopped. A few minutes later I heard the door being undone and female voices out side.”
"How did you feel when you knew it was women out there?" asked Kerry.
"I was even more worried than if it had been men."
"I guessed that they would systematically target my masculinity."
"You mean that they would go for your balls?" asked Melissa.
"I suppose so,” said Parsons.
"And that frightened you?" asked Kerry.
"Yes it did. I knew that they weren’t going to go to the lengths of kidnapping me just to slap my wrist and say, ‘Don’t do it again.’ Angry women are notorious for kicking men in the balls and they had the perfect opportunity to do it to me."
"OK Carry on," said Kerry.
“About 4 girls came into the lorry then and moved some of the boxes out of the way so that they could get through to me. I was surprised to see how young and attractive they all were. I expected to see big lesbian type women."
"How did it make you feel thinking that you were going to be beaten up by attractive young girls?" asked Melissa.
"I don’t know. It was strange really. I suppose I didn’t think that they’d be capable of hurting me that much. I thought that the worst they could do was give me a bit of a hiding and then let me go. I was pleased that they weren’t big dykes who I’d expect to be a lot more cruel. Anyway they were all dressed in skimpy clothes, which was quite nice even in the predicament that I was in. Short skirts, crop tops, high heels, knee boots. They didn’t speak very much at this point; they simply grabbed me and dragged me out of the lorry. I was sort of thrown out and landed on the hard earth. I was in the countryside. It was quite painful, falling out of the lorry and I hurt my arm and was winded. It was then that I became really scared. I was surrounded by women. There were about 25-30 of them. Most of them were quite young, in their teens and twenties, but there were a few older women, none more than forty though I guess. I lay there on the floor, absolutely petrified. I was scared out of my wits. I was innocent remember, and yet I was going to be treated like a rapist by a group of women. It was very, very frightening.”
“The women were cheering and clapping and hurling insults at me. I was expecting them to surge forward and really kick the shit out of me then, but they didn’t, it appeared to be really rehearsed. They had plans for me I could tell. One of the girls untied my ankles and told me to stand up. An older woman, about 35, had a shotgun and she pointed it at my groin. My handcuffs were undone and I was threatened with having my balls blown off if I tried to escape. I was then told to strip naked, which I had no choice but to do. I was being laughed at by all the women. They were calling me names and pointing at my cock. The handcuffs were reattached and the woman with the shotgun pressed the barrel of the gun right into my balls. The women were all shouting, ‘Blow his fucking balls off,’ and stuff like that. I was shaking my head trying to plead through the gag. She pulled the trigger and nothing happened. Everyone laughed as I collapsed to my knees in shame. I thought that my balls were about to be shot off. It was a horrifying moment. I was incredibly relieved that they weren’t obviously but I was in shock.”
“My ankles were tied together again with a long rope and the other end of the rope was tied to the tow bar of a Range Rover. One of the several girls who were wearing a sort of uniform of white tight fitting bra-tops with some kind of military style logo on them, black leather hot pants and black leather flat heeled knee boots, got in the car and I was then dragged up the hill to the cottage by my ankles. It was only at walking pace but the ground was really hard and my body was getting really scratched. Some of the women picked up really whippy sticks off the floor and I got whipped loads of times as I was dragged up the hill. All of the ‘uniformed’ girls had riding crops, and I got whipped by them too as I cried out through the gag. By the time we reached the cottage I was really sore from the dragging and whipping but I knew that it was only a preliminary to what was awaiting me at the cottage. I was then dragged by several of the girls around to the back of the cottage where two poles were erected about 8 feet apart. I was fastened between the poles, spread-eagled. It was clearly all well prepared. The posts were fitted with chains and manacles and there was no getting free from them.”
“Once they were happy that they well and truly had me at their mercy, they all helped themselves to drink. They toasted each other with champagne, firing the corks at me as they opened the bottles. ‘Try and get his balls,’ I remember one of the women saying. So each time they opened another bottle it was aimed at my balls. In the end they were coming right up to me and firing the corks at my balls at point blank range, and then cheering when I cried out. It was as much in humiliation as pain.”
“They then started the party games. The games were designed so that the winner would be the one to hurt me in some way. They had a bag which various punishments written on bits of paper. The winner would be allowed to pick out one of the bits of paper at random and then carry out that punishment on me. As they discussed the game I learned that some of the punishments were quite minor humiliations while the others were quite major beatings. The games themselves were really straight forward involving the dealing of cards to all the women and somehow or other whittling it down to the last one. Each game took about 3 or 4 minutes. The girls arranged the chairs and positioned themselves in a circle around me. I remember the jubilation on the face of the first girl who won. She was called Gail. I was worried about the fact that they were using names as I figured that that wouldn’t be the case if I were to be released. It was very worrying.”
“Any way, Gail was a big-breasted girl who was wearing a bikini and high-heeled shoes. She was very sexy, I suppose. She reached into the bag and pulled out a folded bit of paper. She smiled as she looked at it. ‘What does it say?’ said the girls in unison. ‘It says…’ said Gail building up the suspense. ‘… kick him in the balls." There was loads of whooping and cheering from the girls. They were all encouraging Gail to ‘really kick ‘em hard’ and ‘fucking bust ‘em!’ She turned her attentions on me then. And strode up in front of me. Her big tits were wobbling under her skimpy bikini. Then after a quick look at her targets she unleashed a vicious kick that sent a searing pain through my groin. I had no choice but to take the full force kick to my naked balls and I’ll never forget they sly grin she had on her face as she stood hands on hips watching my reaction. It was one of real pain. I knew then that it was starting. The real punishment was starting.”
“A few minutes later and it was another girls turn to "pick a punishment" This girl was about 25 years old and was called Debbie. She was wearing a loose knitted crop top, short tight skirt and high-heeled ankle boots. She was one of the girls that had whipped me with a stick as I was dragged up to the cottage. She reached into the bag and pulled out the paper. The anticipation was building again. ‘It says… kick him in the balls!’ said Debbie. The girls all cheered again. But that wasn’t all. ‘Three times,’ added Debbie smiling. Debbie strutted up to me and unleashed her first kick straight away. Again it was agonizing. She then went behind me to give me the next one and then back in front to give me the last. I can’t describe how painful it was. I couldn’t take any more pain. I remember thinking how many more of those bits of paper had kicks to the balls on them.”
“The next game was played with me trying to endure the pain of the kicks I’d taken. I waited with increasing dread for the next bit of paper to be drawn. The girl who won next was called Brandy. She was lovely looking like the others and had a black blouse on, short skirt and high-heeled black shoes. She took the bit of paper and unraveled it. ‘Twist his nipples and knee his balls three times,’ she said as she waved her arms in the air in celebration. She came up to me and dug her sharp red nails into my nipples really hard. Then she twisted them agonizingly. Her knee then slammed into my nuts, once, twice and then for the final one she stepped back, yanked and twisted my nipples hard and then drove her knee powerfully up between my legs, almost lifting my feet off the ground. There was cheering all around me again.”
“The next one was picked out by a tall blonde girl of about 28 years. She was a touch disappointed when she realized that she wouldn’t be kicking my balls. This one was an all-play and every girl was to come up in turn to slap me across the face. By the time the first 5 or 6 girls had belted me my head was ringing. Towards the end I was almost unconscious. Unfortunately I was spared the pleasure of unconsciousness.”
“The next winner, along with the girls that sat on either side of her, was to administer a concurrent 3-on-1 punishment. The three girls were three of the ‘uniformed’ girls. One of them, Lisa would squeeze my balls constantly while the other two, Ciara and Marie would crop my arse 6 times each. The girls took up their positions and I felt Lisa’s hand grip my balls hard. I felt my swollen balls being squashed together agonizingly. Lisa was gritting her teeth with the effort as the crops started to land on my naked arse. They were full force strokes that really hurt and created a new area of pain for me to think about. I had my balls squeezed by Lisa for about a minute in all and that was incredibly painful. I remember clearly the pain in my buttocks as well and the smiles on the faces of the two big-breasted girls who’d inflicted it.”
“The next girl to win was another big-breasted girl called Liz. She read out the punishment. ‘Put his cock and balls in the mini-stocks and along with the girl sat to your left, take turns to tawse them 3 times each,’ she said excitedly. The girl sat to Liz’s left was Debbie, the girl that had kicked me in the balls three times earlier. She got up enthusiastically and between them they carried the mini-stocks up in front of me. Liz grabbed my cock and balls firmly and pulled them forwards so that Debbie could close the top of the stocks. This had the effect of trapping them and holding them away from my body with no escape from blows aimed at them. The two girls then took the thick leather straps from the table and took up their positions. Liz was to beat me backhanded and Debbie forehanded. Liz went first. Her arm wrapped back round the side of her head, having the effect of raising her crop top up to reveal the underside of her gorgeous tits. Then THWACK. The tawse pummeled my cock and balls viciously. Debbie was next. She too thrashed the tawse hard into my genitals. It was like having them punched and whipped at the same time. It was excruciating. I got two more from each of the two bitches and I remember making a sort of high-pitched whining sound at the end of it.”
“The next girl to win was another uniformed girl, Alex. She was a tall slim brunette whose bit of paper said, ‘Birch his buttocks 6 times. I think I’ll leave the stocks on his cock and balls to stop him wriggling,’ she said. ‘Ooooh, you bitch,’ said Marie. Alex selected one of the three birches from the table and came round behind me. She rubbed the hard branches across my arse before delivering the 6 strokes with equally hard strokes across my already red-striped arse. At this point I was sure that my buttocks were beginning to bleed, and the pain in my balls was mounting to excruciating levels. The stocks had been a torture themselves as I writhed under the birch strokes.”
“When the next bit of paper was drawn out by Isla, a petite redheaded girl, there was mock annoyance from everyone. It was a joker with X2 on it. This meant that Isla could repeat any of the previous punishments administered and double the effect. She went through the expended punishments looking for a good one to double. ‘It’s got to be Debbie’s one, the 3 kicks to the balls doubled to 6!’ she said. If I needed any convincing that these girls were out to ruin me for life this was it. She dragged the mini-stocks off me and took up her kicking position. During Isla’s six kick punishment I lost control of my bladder and pissed myself. I was hosed down half way through with water because Isla didn’t want piss on her shoe.”
The next punishment was preceded by the girls removing the gag. I wasn’t sure why at this point but I wasn’t really trying to think about it. ‘At least we can hear him crying now,’ said Brandy. It was because the paper drawn out of the bag by Lindsey was a question and answer game. It was a 3-on-1 punishment again. Helping Lindsey were the two girls sat either side of her, who were Alison and Eve. Both of these girls collected canes from the table and stood behind me. ‘I’m going to ask you 6 questions boy. If you get them all right, which is extremely unlikely, then you’ll escape with the minimum punishment for this game which is me squeezing your nuts while Eve and Alison give you 6 strokes of the cane each. And I do squeeze hard. If you get one question wrong, then not only shall I be squeezing you but I shall also knee you after each six strokes. That’s two knees in your balls as well. If you get two questions wrong, then you’ll also be kicked once each from behind by the two lovely girls who’ll be thrashing your arse, so that’s 12 strokes of the cane, squeezing, two knees from me and a kick each from Alison and Eve. If you get three questions wrong, not only shall I be squeezing you, but I shall knee you after every two strokes, and you’ll get two kicks each from Alison and Eve, and if you haven’t noticed they’re both wearing knee boots, with really chunky soles and heels. So that’s 12 strokes of the cane, 6 knees from me, and 4 kicks from the two girls behind you. If you get four questions wrong then you’re in real trouble, because the number of strokes goes up to 18. Which of course means that you get squeezed for longer and you also receive 9 knees in the balls from me and also 3 kicks each from Alison and Eve. No one should ever be made to endure the pain you’ll receive if you get 5 questions wrong. Not only shall I squeeze your balls, I’ll be kneeing them after every stroke of the cane, on top of that you’ll get a kick in the balls from one of the other girls after every other stroke. So to put that into perspective it will follow the sequence of... squeeze, cane, knee, squeeze, cane, knee, kick, squeeze, cane, knee, squeeze, cane, knee, kick etc. You will not enjoy that. And then of course if you get all of the questions wrong... well what can I say. The sequence changes a little bit. It will start off with 12 strokes of the cane across your arse from Eve alternated with 12 strokes from Alison. That’s 24 strokes of the cane. During this time I shall be squeezing and twisting your balls hard. After that, I shall take a cane and give you 12 more strokes while Eve and Alison come round in front of you and take it in turns to kick you in the balls after each stroke I give you. If that wasn’t enough, you’ll then be asked to select a girl from the audience to knee you while you receive a 3-on-1 caning of 6 strokes each alternating between us. After each of my 6 strokes I shall also give your balls a good hard kick. The selected girl will knee you after each stroke.’”
“‘Right, first question. What is the atomic weight of Zirconium?’ I said 12. ‘Incorrect. That’s one wrong,’ said Lindsey. ‘Question 2. How many times will you be kicked in the balls if you get all the questions wrong?’ I said 24. ‘Incorrect. It’s actually only 18. You’ll get 18 knees as well though. That’s two wrong. Question 3. In our request book for punishments, where the girls tabled motions to perform certain punishments on you, which girl here has expressed a desire to ‘wire your balls up to the mains!?’’ I said Debbie, as it was one of the only girls names I could remember at the time. ‘Wrong,’ said Lindsey. ‘It was actually Liz, who you may remember tawsed your cock and balls a few minutes ago. That’s three wrong. Question 4. Another girl has requested that we ‘make you sandpaper your dick and hit your own balls with a rubber mallet?!’’ I said Debbie again. ‘Wrong,’ said Lindsey. ‘It was actually Natalie. That’s 4 wrong. Right, question 5. Which of the girls wants to ‘put your balls in a vice, and beat your dick with a wire brush?’’ I said Eve. ‘Wrong,’ said Lindsey. ‘It was actually me!’ All the girls laughed. ‘That’s 5 wrong. Last question. How many girls here, and there are 32 of us, would like to castrate you?’ I said 32. ‘Wrong. None of us. We want your balls attached to your nervous system… for obvious reasons. Right, that’s all the questions wrong. What a shame. Well I did warn you. Are you ready girls?’”
“Lindsey came up to me and put her hand around my balls. She tightened her grip on them until I was begging for mercy. ‘Right, cane him girls,’ she said. Suddenly I was hit with a barrage of incredibly hard blows to my already well-thrashed arse. They were terribly painful strokes that just seemed to carry on forever. All the time my balls were being crushed by Lindsey. She was squeezing and twisting them and yanking them down hard. The canes fell over the welts I’d got from the cropping and birching I’d already received and Lindsey’s punishment of my balls was making me scream with pain. Finally the caning stopped and Lindsey released my balls. I was crying with pain. ‘Right, all change,’ said Lindsey. She picked up a cane and went round behind me. Eve and Alison came round in front of me. Suddenly I felt the excruciating pain of the cane again across my arse and now I was getting kicked in the balls by Eve and Alison. Their chunky knee boots smashed my balls all over the place. I wanted to pass out but it didn’t happen. I was screaming for mercy but all I got was more punishment. I was dribbling from my mouth and almost vomited. Then I was being slapped across the face by Lindsey.”
“‘Pick a girl to knee you,’ I was told. I said Debbie. It was automatic. Suddenly Debbie was there in front of me. Her hands went to my shoulders as the caning began again across my arse. Debbie’s knee smashed into my balls, again and again and again. Her tits were bouncing and swinging under her crop top as she carried on the brutal bashing of my balls. Lindsey’s boot was driven into my balls incredibly hard. The canes were still slashing down across my bloodied buttocks. I passed out.”
“A moment later I was brought round. ‘You’ve got another 15 to come,’ Debbie said. The canes fell again and Debbie’s knee was again slamming into my balls. For the other girls watching it was brilliant fun. Three girls caning a rapist’s backside brutally while another girl knees his balls repeatedly. Lindsey was kicking me from behind. I passed out again. When I was brought round I still had another five to go. Twice more I took Lindsey’s boot, five times more I felt the cruel canes whacking….