0 comments/  23316 views/  7 favorites

My Abduction Ch. 02

By: Sparksnfire



Chapter 02: The Next Day

I woke feeling sore and in need of a shower. I was still in my clothes and I was curled up into a foetal position on my unmade bed. The events of last night permeated my foggy brain that immediately made me painfully aware of my stretched bum and bruised pussy. I yawned and yelped at the ache in my jawbone from sucking their big cocks last night. My hand slipped between my legs and I felt the dried cum on my thighs as I stretched my legs letting my fingers burrow under the elastic of my panties to massage my hungry pussy. I felt so liberated now and as I relived the frightening abduction that morphed into the best sex session I have ever experienced, I played with my clit until I almost blacked out with the intensity of the orgasm that rolled through me. It was so powerful that I had to pull my hand away and roll back up into a ball like a hedgehog protecting its tender parts.

Enough of this I resolved to myself after a minute or two, staggering off the bed and stripping off my crumpled clothes. For a moment I paused to hold my big breasts and squeeze them like he did last night, that unseen man who with his friend had used me so well. I rubbed my big tummy that previously I was so embarrassed to show to anyone. Somehow something had clicked inside me last night and I had changed. Maybe not for the better, I had been such a slut in the end but it felt so right and empowering. And now I felt released from that tug of being inhibited and ashamed of my size. Fuck it and fuck them I said out loud to no one but myself. Then, like a complete sexual goddess I strutted to the bathroom, bouncing my tits and swinging my booty for no one to see. I smiled and then grinned at how good it felt, the cool air on my unwashed cum covered body, the pains of sex making me all the more aware of my sensuality. If those guys were waiting in the bathroom for me, I would jump them straight away, take control and fuck them until I was satiated. 

But no, the shower was empty and I had to make do with my hands foaming up my body with an apricot scented body wash. I pulled at my nipples until they were erect and holding a breast I managed to suck on one of them. Oh that was so intense, sending tingles to my pussy until I had to stop. It was driving me crazy. I need a man right now. A big cock to play with and tease before pulling it towards my bruised cunt and massaging the pain away with an early morning fuck, right here, right now with the steam filling the room. My fingers found my tender clit and I barely touched it before slipping two fingers into my cunt and rudely finger fucking myself like the guys did to me last night with their lovely big hard cocks. I imagined it was the soft-spoken one inside me now as my fingers curled up inside me to really get me going into a frenzy again. I had to lean my head against the shower wall and steady myself with my free hand as I fucked myself silly while all I could see behind my closed eyes was my imagination of what his cock must look like thrusting in and out of me. It was like last night, blindfolded, lustful and thrilling. Then I came again in a rush that doubled me over and I collapsed onto the shower floor, panting and holding my fucking fingers in my sopping cunt until the contractions subsided enough for me to slowly pull them out. I sat there for a long time with the hot water running over my hair and body. 

Finally I stood up again and finished washing my tangled hair and rinsing off before getting out and drying myself. The reflection I saw in the steamed up mirror was of a ravished woman, still panting and with a lost desperation in her eyes. It shocked me to connect the thought that it was me in the mirror and not someone else. What have I become I asked myself. Oh you're now a real woman my mother's voice sniggered in my head. Shut up Mum, I admonished back. Ok, ok, don't get angry, it will spoil your morning she calmly replied. Go find yourself a nice boy now. Someone I can be proud of she continued. If only, I sighed out loud, surprising myself. I locked my mind shut tight so than my mother's voice would not intrude on my thoughts. Time to get moving girl I said firmly to the face in the mirror and her serious reflection briefly smiled back at me before I abruptly turned and marched out of the bathroom which only weakened my resolve not to think about sex because my heavy breasts bounced and walking fast only reminded me of my insatiable pussy. Control girl. Control, I said over and over to myself. 

I had several classes at university and then work at the café later on. Maybe I would go to the yoga class tonight with my friend Mona. So on went a pair of large fresh scarlet panties and a 38DD bra to match over which I slipped my mauve skin-tight yoga top that accentuated my belly. Then I wriggled into the matching yoga pants that were more like tights. My generous booty really filled them. I then found a dark purple shirt blouse and a short black skirt that went over the top of the yoga gear. To finish off the ensemble I pulled on my black leather mid calf boots. Looking in the mirror I saw a sex starved girl with lust in her eyes. I looked great with my shirt unbuttoned and loose outside my hip hugging skirt. I could see my breasts contoured by the tight yoga top and the curves of my hips and bum were outlined by my tight skirt. The addition of the boots made a statement that I was available and please come knocking at this girl's door. I tossed my long brown hair and quickly brushed it into some semblance of order. Ignoring any makeup I grabbed my laptop bag with my study notes and left the apartment, thinking how horny I still was even though I had been fucked for hours by two strangers last night and I had masturbated twice this morning. What is happening to me I giggled to myself, failing to keep my serious resolve in place.

Lectures were interesting and diverted me from my heightened sensuality although every now and again my eyes would wander around and linger on hunky guys. What am I thinking I would say to myself, they won't be interested in me, I'm too big. They all go for those scrawny ones. Maybe if I flirted with that guy on the side of the lecture theatre. He looks like he would know what to do in bed. No, I couldn't stand the humiliation if he rejected me. And so the day went on, repeated in various scenarios with the same want and need my body sought to fulfil but my fears and lack of self-confidence restrained me from acting on those desires.

By the time I got to my café job, I was feeling really horny again. I could feel my nipples rubbing against the lace of my bra making them swell and become all the more sensitive. It was a delicious sexual tension that I wanted to satisfy yet by not being able to do anything about it made me even hungrier for cock. 

Every male customer got me thinking about exactly what was in his pants. I guessed size, thickness, colour, taste, cleanliness, hairy or shaven, soft or hard. Yum. These were such mouth-watering thoughts. This distracted me and several times I gave the incorrect change as I fantasised what it would be like to feel his lips on my cunt or me lick his engorged cock. Giving the wrong change thoroughly embarrassed me and I blushed beetroot red over my chest and neck so that his eyes would be drawn to my panting boobs. The young guys openly ogled me and grinned, making smart arse small talk that was supposed to be funny but really implied what a stupid cunt. My tummy would knot and I would have to find a way to cut him off whilst trying to recompose myself by moving quickly onto the next customer. 

The older guys were gentler with me and I liked that they would umm and err and look down at the counter rather than my boobs. I knew they were sneaking a look too but their mutual embarrassment was sweet and my heart would melt in sympathy for their concern for flustered me. One of them had a twinkle in his eye and a kind smile. His hair was grey but he had that urbane sophisticated appearance that gave him a calm confidence that I so wanted for myself. I had given him a twenty-dollar note instead of ten dollars in his change. Most customers would have noticed the mistake and quickly departed with the extra money. But he drew it too my attention and handed it back to me. I was so grateful and I gushed my thanks to him nervously. He then handed me a five-dollar note and said it was a tip because he assumed I was a student and he liked to help others get ahead in life. I thanked him again and slipped the money into the tips jar behind the counter. When I turned he was walking out the door, thinking of things other than my erect nipples rubbing against the lace of my bra. 

Time passed, customers emptied out of the café, dusk approached and my feet ached in my high-heeled boots. I emptied the tips jar to divide the money up with the cooks and other waitresses. We had a sharing scheme that sometimes worked in my favour and sometimes not. The five dollar note was folded and inside was an elegant card with his name and a phone number. Nothing else. It was if the rest was irrelevant. All that could possibly interest me was how to contact him. The rest would follow, was the implication. It took me by surprise. It was such an audacious conceit. Yet intriguing. Why? My heart beat faster. Why would he give me his card? What could he ever want from me? Not sex, surely? My mind wandered with potentialities. I slipped the card into my bra and finished up my chores, handing out the tips money to the others and without delay, departing.

Outside the café, I paused in a quandary. Could I be bothered going to yoga? The stretching exercises would help the aches and pains from last night but in reality I knew I wasn't going to do it. I fumbled in my laptop bag for my phone. I pulled the card out of my bra. My heart began to pound in my chest. My arms went numb and my fingers shook as I started to dial the stranger's number. Half way through I stopped and put the phone away. I must be mad I thought and I began walking home. 

The feeling of suppressed sexual energy made my skin extra sensitive and my spine tingled. I became acutely aware of my hair caressing my neck and flicking across my face. Each step felt like a lover's breath as my long fringe sensuously licked the corner of my mouth. My tongue caught a few strands and I closed my lips around them as if they were his cock sliding into me. With a finger I pulled the errant hair out of my mouth, wet with my warm saliva, only to let the fringe brush over my face again to repeat the intense fantasy once more. I walked briskly, my generous hips swaying provocatively, my short black skirt riding up my thighs and my open blouse revealing my big soft bouncing breasts under my tight mauve yoga top. Small beads of perspiration cooled my brow and upper lip. I breathed heavily with the exertion and enjoyed the tensing of my buttocks with each purposeful stride.

I was trying to tame the sexual beast within. That something that controlled me more than I it. It was no longer a purr. More like a hungry growl, a feline huntress searching for satisfaction, something to leap upon and devour in a frenzy of cries. I wanted to toss and be tossed around, with limbs entangled and mouths open, teeth nipping at unfamiliar flesh, tongues licking as they explored the taste and contour of new found prey. I needed to fuck someone. Instead of hiding my feelings and keeping my head down, eyes to the pavement ahead as was my usual posture, I scanned ahead and across the street for likely candidates. I heard my mother's voice in my head laughing, encouraging me onwards; telling me I was finally the little fat slut she always knew I would become. I told the voice to shut up. Please deliver me a cock someone, please, where are you, I repeated over and over in my head as I continued to stride home. Home. Now that would be silly I said to myself, there's no-one there and I need more than my own fingers. I turned down a side street that I knew lead towards a bar that my girlfriends and I had celebrated in only a week earlier. Am I brave enough to go in alone I asked myself? Of course you are slut daughter the mocking voice of my mother whispered in my head. Slut, slut, slut, slut it said as my nervous hand grasped the door handle and I pushed into the noise of a busy bar full of students and young office workers.

I settled my big butt onto a bar stool and looked around at the crowd. Music had a couple of exhibitionist girls showing off dance moves and teasing the others with sexy moves. I so wanted to be them, confident and beautiful, slim and sexy with all the young bucks hiding their erections caused by my gyrating hips. Hips you say the little girl voice in my head mocks. We're too fat and if we danced it would be like a jelly shaking on a plate, all uncontrollable wobbles. We'd probably fall over. I hated my younger self. She always mocked me when I felt inadequate. All I want is for one of these guys to be nice to me and maybe I can then seduce him. 

No one showed any interest in me and I sat sipping the drink I ordered, feeling very exposed up at the bar on a stool. I made the drink last as long as I could but in the end I swallowed the last drops of bitter disappointment and walked to the door. As I opened it, a masculine hand covered mine over the handle and I heard him say that he would get the door, pushing himself slightly against my butt as we both burst out of the bar together. I was completely taken by surprise and once outside I stood open mouthed. His young face was a gauche grin attempting to cover his own embarrassment. He apologised profusely for perhaps frightening me as he gabbled in a torrent as if to hold me there with words. I assured him I was fine and it was nothing. Then I dared to say it. I actually said it. I told him that it actually felt like something. Something quite nice. Oh you little hussy my mother's voice disapproved. Or did she approve? I was beginning to wonder about her voice in my head. He got my drift and laughed nervously, going on to explain in too many words that he had been watching me from the moment I came into the bar but he was too shy to approach me in front of his friends. They were merciless and if I had rejected him they would have made his life hell for at least a week.

By now I had gathered control of myself and actually saw him for the first time. About my age, obviously a student and not one of those rich ones either. Clothes bland but clean, fingernails trimmed, tallish and lean with that goofy big smile of white teeth. He was cute enough. Someone who could pass by you and you wouldn't really notice. Yet. Yet he was sort of sexy in an inexperienced way. While these thoughts flashed in my brain, he ran out of words and started to move away as if to go. I knew the next sentence out of his mouth would have the words sorry again and goodbye or see you around. I cut the words off before they could be said. I stammered quickly asking if he was hungry. He paused. He reminded me so much of my own lack of confidence. What a pathetic pair. After a moment I took a breath and in a staccato burst threw at him the invitation to come and eat with me. I waited a second for a reply and when it didn't come I wilted. Not another rejection I thought. Then I heard the magic words that made me glow inside. Yes, he would like that if it were not too much trouble. The warmth in my tummy grew and spread throughout me until I felt I could faint. Then lets go I replied, taking his arm and together we set off. I hoped he wasn't really hungry because I knew there wasn't anything to eat in my flat.

On the way back to the flat, panic rose to overwhelm the sensuous glow inside of me. I had never invited a man to my flat. I really didn't know what to do. At least your bed sheets are clean my mother's voice sniggered in my head. And then all too soon, without any idea of what to do, we were there and I was fumbling my key into the door lock. Inside I put my laptop bag down and turned to him. He started to tell me his name and then it was clear in my mind what I was going to do. Shush I told him and reached up and kissed his mouth that was about to say something. He was nervous but after a few moments he began to kiss me back. I went weak at the knees. Not from the kiss but from the knowledge I had a conquest in my flat, alone with me and I was surely going to get fucked by him. I didn't want to seduce him; I wanted him to take me. I was curious as to how he would go about it. He felt me sag at the knees and held me tight. He was surprisingly strong for such a skinny guy. All muscle and bone. No fat. Not like me. Then he sort of dance walked me along to my bedroom door, still kissing me at the same time. I watched his eyes searching with our lips locked together. He walked me backwards to the bed and we collapsed on it with me under him.

His jeans constrained his cock and he reached down to readjust it so it could engorge freely. I laughed and rolled him over saying that I would help. I undid his belt and jeans and pulled them down his long skinny hairy legs. Then the boxer shorts came off to reveal a really long skinny cock that was so stiff it stood up throbbing. I took off my blouse and slid out of my skirt, all the while watching that hot cock attached to him. He began to sit up to strip me but for once I took command and said no. It's faster me doing it I gasped as my tights and yoga top came off. Without a pause I quickly took off my bra and then told him he could pull my panties off me. 

I lay down and he got up on his knees and did just that, freeing my roiling pussy that was ready for his cock. Fuck me please. I need it in me now. Just fuck me I pleaded. For a moment he paused as if he wasn't sure or maybe he was just nervous. Then he climbed on me, a bit clumsily but he got there. I wanted him to do it all, to take me as I lay there, willing, wanton, hungry for his cock. He put a hand down by my pussy and holding his cock he guided into my cunt. At first my lips stopped him and I lifted my legs with feet in the air, bringing my knees to my breasts. And I felt this delicious sensation as what felt like a 2 foot long cock slide slowly into me. It was wonderful.

Once fully into me he collapsed on my breasts overwhelmed himself by the feeling of my tight pussy squeezing his long cock. I focussed, trying to throttle the lovely cock in my cunt. He gasped and moved a little. Go on, fuck me with your big long cock I dared him. He looked a little shocked that I talked dirty to him but he got the message and pulled out until just the head was in my pussy. The delicious tease of it all. My cunt flaps stretched on his tool as he paused, eyes glazed in the wonder of being on top of a sex crazed heavy young woman. I saw in that look that he couldn't quite believe his luck. My hands grabbed his buttocks and I thrust up with my hips as I pulled him back into me. I was in a desperate mood, I needed his cum in me quick. I had no interest in gentle, slow, passionate, lets get to know each other lovemaking. I wanted him to destroy me with his cock by banging me as hard and fast as he could.

He began to move into a gentle rhythm, trying to do his best to pleasure me in that sweet, nervous way that flashed the thought that maybe he was a virgin. No way my mother scolded, telling me I was so judgmental. My internal voice told my mum to shut the fuck up. He was breathing in my ear, lying on me and using his hips to fuck me slowly. This is no good I thought. Hey, I won't break I whispered to him. I started to rotate my hips and push up against his incoming cock. I opened my legs wide and placed my sweating feet on the bed with my knees bent. This gave me the purchase I needed and I started to buck him. Come on cowboy I challenged him as my bronco hips threatened to throw him off me. He pushed up on his elbows in surprise but before he could speak I taunted him with a big grin and told him to enjoy himself and let go. Fuck this mare. Stick that stallion cock where it belongs. Fuck me until I'm raw I gasped between breaths. 


My Abduction Ch. 02



So excited by the warm response to the first chapter! Thank you so much for all the feedback :) I didn't realize that five pages in word only translated to one page here on Literotica, so I made sure to make this one a lot longer. And yes, there is eroticism at the end of this chapter as well ;) I'm sorry it's so long compared to the first chapter, I was trying to make up some storyline. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter as much as the last one! Let me know what you think of switched perspectives.

_____________________________________

The noises that filled my ears were muddled, and my neck ached. Fear and adrenaline told me to bolt upright, but reason prevailed. My head was foggy, and I kept my breathing even and my eyes closed until it cleared. When the noises I heard turned from unintelligible clamor into doors, either opening or closing, and footsteps, I opened my eyes to see that I was facing a wall, my bedroom wall, to be exact. My left arm was pinned underneath me uncomfortably, but not numb. While my hands were bound in front of me, they hadn't turned red yet, and I inferred that I hadn't been unconscious long. I could hear the man treading lightly around my small apartment, but couldn't see him. Glancing upwards briefly, I saw that he had closed the bedroom door, a fact that I was grateful for. It would give me more freedom to assess the situation.

Something cold touched the back of my leg, and I let a small gasp escape my lips as I jumped in surprise. My cat was licking at the mud encrusted on my calf, just above another set of nylon ropes around my ankles above bare feet. He had taken my shoes off, probably so I would have a harder time running away even if I did get free. My body, sore from running, being tackled, climbing, then being choked, protested as I sat up to look at the bonds on my ankles and wrists. They were tied snugly, of course, and my hands were shaking too much to even hope at being able to untie them. Keeping my breathing calm, I tried to think of something that would help me remove the rope. Were my nail clippers still on the bedside table?

My bedroom layout was simple. The door and closet were on the west wall, with a window across on the east wall. Twin bedside tables on each side framed the dark wooden headboard on the north wall, with a small walkway between the footboard and south wall. The rest of the apartment was as simple as my bedroom. A short hallway led to a linen closet and the bathroom, with the living room and kitchen to the southeast and southwest, respectively. While it wasn't opulent by any means, my apartment wasn't small either. It was the perfect size and layout for one person and a cat.

Rolling onto my stomach, my legs bumped my cat, and she meowed loudly at me in protest. I froze, wondering if the man would come and check to see why she was meowing. Knowing how vocal she was, though, I doubted she hadn't been meowing since he put her in the bedroom. When I didn't hear him walk over, I pushed myself onto my hands and knees, and started crawling over to the bed. The ropes around my limbs made crawling in the normal sense impossible, and I had to hop my hands forward first, then hop forward with my knees. The soft carpet muffled the small thumps my movements made, and it gave me a bit of hope. If he thought I was still unconscious, he wouldn't come check on me until he was finished doing whatever it was he was doing outside the bedroom. When I reached the foot of the bed, I pulled myself up to sit on the edge. Scooting along the bed was much quieter than hopping on the floor like some sort of crippled frog. Now, where were those nail clippers? 

Pausing for a moment to listen to his movements, I slowly inched the drawer open, doing my best to keep it from squeaking like it always did. My nail clippers weren't waiting for me, but my knife was. I had never used it outside of camping, and had absolutely no training using it as a weapon. It didn't even occur to me that it was in the bedroom. The last time I had used it had been months ago to pry open a stubborn can of cat food. I thought I had left it in the kitchen, but I wasn't one to complain about a bit of good luck. Opening it smoothly, I held it in my right hand as I used the serrations on the lower half of the blade to saw at the rope. The soft nylon fibers frayed and snapped quickly, and the ropes around my wrists slipped free. I repeated the process on the bonds at my ankles, and rubbed lightly where the ropes had been to make sure the blood was flowing.

It was quiet outside of the bedroom door now, and I froze, listening for something to tell me where my attacker was. I heard nothing, and when my cat howled again, I almost yelped at the break in tension. Something rustled outside the door, and I heard footsteps moving away. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, and I could feel my pulse in my neck and wrists, the sound almost drowning out any other noise. A glass clinked in the kitchen, and I took the time he was using to get a drink to try and calm down to think of how to get out.

Attacking him wasn't an appealing option. I knew how to defend myself, not attack an opponent. And from what I had felt earlier when he choked me, he had a fair amount of experience in combat considering he had managed to not kill me. He was significantly larger than my stature as well, which wasn't small. At 5'7" and 140lbs, I wasn't exactly petite. Running wasn't an option, either. I couldn't open the door without him hearing me, and the only window in the bedroom didn't open all the way. Even if it did, it would be too narrow for me to fit through. It would be too narrow for me, but not my cat.

Stepping softly around the side of the bed, I opened the drawer in the other bedside table and grabbed an old receipt. Of course there wasn't a pen, but there was an old tube of lip-gloss. It was better than nothing, even if it would smear. Scrawling "help me – 7562 Sheridan Pl #203" onto the paper, I folded it in half, then wrapped it around the collar as tightly as I could. My cat meowed again as I picked her up to put the note on her, and this time I covered her mouth to muffle the noise before moving quickly to the window. Throwing the latch open, I leaned my weight into it to inch it open. The layers of paint on the hinges kept it from opening more than a few inches, maybe five at the most, but it would be enough for my small cat. I kissed the top of her head, telling her, "Find someone for me, baby girl," before shoving her unceremoniously through the small gap. She meowed as she landed on the thick juniper bushes just below the frame, and I breathed a sigh of relief when she trotted off towards someone walking down the street.

The muscles in my shoulders and back trembled as I sank back onto the bed, and I felt my breath shaking as my heart rate slowed. I may not have been able to escape, but maybe someone would find the note and call the police. This knowledge was my only consolation, and the only thing I focused on while I tried to calm the panic creeping through my mind and body. Panicking would lead to illogical decisions, and being rash in this situation would only get me into more trouble, if that were possible. Reminding myself that things can always get worse, I took hope in the fact that someone might find my note. Despair clutched at my heart when I wondered what would happen once he came in to check on me, something that was inevitable. 

Against my will, tears ran down my face again. Bile rose in my throat, and my stomach churned with panic and fear. Shaking, I clutched my knees to my chest and rocked back and forth. My chest heaved with silent sobs, and I locked my fingers in my hair, trying to focus on the physical pain, trying to focus on that and stay quiet instead of screaming like I wanted to. A strangled whimper eked past my lips, and I held my breath, not wanting that man to hear, not wanting that awful man to come in to check on me, not wanting to confront that monster, not wanting to face whatever is coming next. I lost myself within my mind, closing my eyes and embracing the blackness, embracing the pain of my hands pulling at my hair, embracing and loving the small escape I had as a prisoner within my own home.

I was so lost within myself that I didn't hear the door open behind me as I rocked myself in a ball on the bed. Unable to breathe properly, I began hyperventilating and making pitiful squeaking noises as I tried to stay quiet. My forearms smeared my tears into the dirt caked on my face into mud, and it made a soft sucking noise when I pulled my arms away to wipe my face clean of tears. I felt the mud smear onto my hand, and when I opened my eyes to look at it, I noticed the shadow of someone standing behind me.

He was holding the knife I had used in one hand, and the fragments of rope in the other. His dark eyes glanced at the open window, then around the room, looking for the cat, no doubt. When he didn't see her, he looked at me, and noticed the lip-gloss on the bed next to me. I could see the gears turning in his head under his wavy, light brown hair. His thin, finely shaped lips parted in an exasperated sigh before he closed the knife, and slid it into the pocket of his dark jeans. Dropping the pieces of rope, he crossed his arms and scowled at me. My heart pounded as I waited for him to say something, to do something, but he just stood there. Maybe he was waiting for me to do something other than sit like a trapped rabbit, which is all I was in his eyes. 

I glanced at the open door behind his tall frame, then back at him, judging the distance and my chances at escape. They were nonexistent, and when I glanced back at him, he raised an eyebrow, surely questioning my sanity at even thinking of trying to run past him. He still said nothing. Asking any questions would only give him power over me, and he had enough as it is. Even if I did ask why he was here, who he was, or why he was doing this in the first place, it was unlikely that he would answer. I stayed silent, and learned what I could from his appearance.

He wasn't much taller than I was, maybe 5'10", but he had to weigh 190lbs in muscle mass. His biceps were as thick as my thighs, and forearms dwarfed any comparison I had. His chest was broad above a thick stomach, with layers of muscle upon layers of muscle. If his arms were as thick as my legs, then his legs were pillars to a colossus. No one would consider him lean - he was too heavily built. The only thing someone would use a man like this for would be a bodyguard, and with how he was dressed, he had to have well-paying clients. 

His shirt and jeans were nothing special, but his watch was shatterproof and had scuba dials. His boots were steel-toed, which is why stomping at his instep had virtually no effect, and the belt at his hips had various small attachments, most of which I could identify. A Taser sat on his right hip, next to a telescoping nightstick. A small pouch sat between them and the belt buckle. On his right hip dangled a set of handcuffs, and something that made me take things much more seriously – a .45 Glock pistol. What really told me that he was being well paid was the small, almost invisible wire leading down into his ear.

My hands started to shake again when I saw his pistol, and I took a breath to calm myself. If he was willing to shoot me, then they weren't willing to let me get away easily. I'd have to be clever to get away from him. He continued to stare at me, and I continued to stay silent. My nose started to run from crying, and I sniffed softly and wiped at my tears with my hand, succeeding only in smearing the mud on my hand back onto my face. 

When he uncrossed his arms and stepped towards me, I jumped up from the bed and felt myself automatically assume a defensive stance with my hands up and curled into fists. He ignored my defensiveness and strode around the bed, reaching out towards me as he cornered me by the window. Despite how badly I wanted to strike out at him, it would only get me hurt. He had shown earlier that he had no contrition about hitting me, and I was surprised that my face wasn't sore from where he had struck me. His hand wrapped around my bicep, not being unnecessarily rough, but leaving me no room to pull away, either. 

I felt my jaw lock and body tense in resistance as he pulled at my arm, trying to lead me. When I kept my feet planted and refused to take a step, he simply tugged me off balance before spinning me around to pin me against the wall with my arm twisted behind me.

"Scream, or try to get anyone else's attention again, and I will Taser you to make you pass out instead of choke you." His voice was low, and almost monotone. It was a serious threat, and I knew it. Seeing a video of my uncle, a 6'6" Marine, get tasered and fall to the ground in pain was enough of a deterrent for me to heed his warning.

"Since you managed to get out of the ropes, you're going to shower before we leave." Again, his voice had almost no inflection, and left no room for argument. Not that I would argue with rinsing off all this mud and composing myself. I nodded in response, and he pulled me back from the wall, keeping a hand on my arm, but letting me turn around. Despite it being my apartment, he steered me to the bathroom instead of letting me walk there myself.

When I stepped through the doorway, I pulled at his arm, expecting him to let go. He scowled down at me, and complied, ignoring the scowl I returned to him. I stepped back and reached for the door, moving to close it. My anger bubbled when he shook his head. Apparently I couldn't shower by myself, and had to be babysat. 

"Something tells me that you don't want to see me go to the bathroom any more than I want you to see," I snapped at him. He simply turned around, placing his foot against the door so I couldn't slam it into the back of his head. Smart man. My voice rose an octave in indignation as I protested.

"Are you serious?" He simply looked over his shoulder at me, and gestured with his hand that I should continue. My face flushed, and my chest tightened. This was beyond humiliating. It didn't matter that he didn't seem to care, and was probably used to this sort of arrangement. Going to the bathroom was a private event in my experience, and I wanted to keep it that way.

My shirt was heavy with damp mud, and stuck to my back as I peeled it from my skin. It hit the linoleum floor with a wet thwap, followed quickly by my sports bra. My light shorts were fairly dry compared to my shirt and bra, and slid down my filthy legs without protest. My thong had managed to stay reasonably dry as well, and I stepped quickly out of it. Turning on the hot water, I tugged at the ponytail holder gnarled within my tangled hair. It didn't want to cooperate. My hair was matted with mud, and there was a rats nest around the elastic band. A yelp escaped my lips as I tugged at it, and succeeded only in pulling my hair.

"Stand still." A hand on my shoulder and the voice behind me made me jump as I spun around to face him. He was closer than I thought, and my arms smacked his chest. I quickly dropped them to my sides, not wanting to antagonize him. He pushed at my shoulder to turn me back around, but not before he glanced down at my breasts. Complying, I blushed knowing that he was surely staring at my ass now, as well.

"That isn't standing still." His other hand held my hip firmly. "Now, don't move." My body shivered in fear, and I felt my skin tighten with goose bumps. He released my hip and shoulder, and his fingers deftly unknotted the gnarled elastic within my hair. The little band appeared in his fingers over my shoulder, and I took it timidly from him.

"I thought you had to go to the bathroom?" he accused.

"Believe it or not, I'd rather not do it with an audience." My voice was hard, and I waited for some kind of rebuke for being less than cordial, but it didn't come. When I glanced over my shoulder, he was standing a few steps back in the doorway again, facing me this time. Doing my best to ignore him, I reached forward and tested the water with my hand. It turned brown as the mud sluiced off in small rivulets, and while hot, the temperature didn't bother me.

Hissing as I stepped into the stream, I felt the dirt on my body run down my legs, and the drain turned almost black with filth. I rinsed thoroughly, rubbing my skin with my hands before grabbing the shampoo and squirting a generous amount into my palm. It took three quick scrubs before the soap on my hands came away white from my scalp, and I smoothed some conditioner into my tresses before coating my loofah in body wash and scrubbing vigorously at my flesh. The drain turned black again as my skin became pale again, still retaining its winter pallor. A quick once-over with the razor removed the last traces of dirt along with the short hairs that had appeared on my legs since the last time I had shaved.

Rinsing a final time, I enjoyed the water running through my hair and down my flesh. It caressed my scalp, and the weight of it in my hair flattened along my back was a comforting feeling. It tickled just above my ass as I tilted my head back to let the water slide over my face, and I opened my mouth to rinse it of dirt as well. The conditioner left my hair feeling silky as I ran my fingers along my scalp, and I did my best to free it of tangles. The last of the soapy water caressed my collarbone, running down between my breasts and over my nipples, hard from the fearful tension in my body. It traced a path across my flat stomach, and along my hips before running between my legs. I dared not wash there more than I need to, not with him watching me as intently as he was through the frosted glass.

The water was so calming, and the shower provided a refuge of sorts from the threat of my apartment. I was reluctant to turn the water off, and let it cascade over me for as long as I could. Time passed far too slowly, and far too quickly simultaneously. Each minute felt like a second, and like an hour as I focused on the sensation of the water flowing across my skin and the steam filling my lungs. Each drop hitting the ceramic tub created a symphony to fill my ears. Before I realized what was happening, I was humming, and then singing as I lost myself in the music created by the shower. 

"Every breath you take, every move you make,
Every bond you break, every step you take,
I'll be watching you.
Every single day, every word you say,
Every game you play, every night you stay, 
I'll be watching you."

My voice cut off abruptly as the shower door slid open with a loud slam, and I almost fell as I jumped backwards and covered my breasts and pussy with my hands.

"If you feel refreshed enough to sing, I think you're done showering." He reached in and turned the water off, ignoring me except to speak to me. He stepped back to the doorway, but I stayed standing, trembling, in the shower, unwilling to venture out of my temporary refuge. He waited all of thirty seconds before grabbing the towel off of the back of the bathroom door, and stepping into the shower, clothes and all, to towel me off.

I raised my arms to protect my face from his rough treatment, and he took the opportunity to grab both my wrists with one hand, and lift them above my head. He held them there with me poised on my toes, and was gentler as he slid the towel down my stomach, then lower, between my legs. I dropped my gaze from his face and looked to the side, blushing with indignation and embarrassment as he spread my lips to softly dry between them. My body froze in silent protest, and I ground my teeth in an effort to ignore the gentle teasing of the towel on my sensitive clitoris. Fortunately for me, he didn't linger, and turned me around to towel off my back and ass before releasing my arms, and pulling me back a step into his chest. 




My Abduction Ch. 02



"Lift your arms up," he commanded. My shoulders locked, and I knew he could see it. Why did he want me to lift my arms when I was already toweled off? I growled as one hand pinched the back of my neck, forcing my head down. My fists clenched, and I pushed my hips back into him to try and squirm away from his grasp. His other hand reached down and clasped around my left wrist, pulling my arm up. The hand around my neck let go, and came around to cup my breast with the towel between his flesh and mine. He released my left wrist, and repeated the process with my right, wrapping me roughly in the towel. I clutched it around me and spun to face him as he stepped out of the shower, holding his hand out for me to follow. I glared at him with rage, and ignored his hand to step out on my own.

My feet had barely left the tub before he grasped my bicep again and lead me back to the bedroom, as if I didn't know the way back to my own room. Leading me, not simply watching. It made me blood boil that he had the tenacity to dictate my behavior in my own home. A glance at his pistol reminded me to temper my emotions, and I stared at the floor to try and regain my calm. He led me to the bed, and I tensed again, reluctant to consider what might happen next.

"Sit, and stay there," he stated as he pushed me sitting onto the edge of the bed. My hands made fists at the edge of the towel. I had to literally bite my tongue to keep from replying, "Yes, Sir, may I have a treat now?" My tongue had a tendency to get me into trouble, and now was certainly not the time for it. He opened my closet, and began to rummage through my clothes. When he began sifting through my underwear, I protested.

"Excuse you! I'm perfectly capable of choosing my own panties!" He ignored me, and set a matching bra and thong – light blue with white lace trim – off to the side. Of course they were matching, why would he grab my comfy boyshorts and sports bra? Rifling through my jeans, he picked the nice pair of dark blue Lucky jeans my mom had gotten me. The shirt he chose was a flattering dark blue scoop neck that made my eyes pop. He certainly knew how to dress a woman. I expected him to grab my boots and socks for me, but he picked my black heels instead. It would be too easy for me to run off with my boots on, I should have expected him to pick something obnoxious like six-inch heels.

He placed the clothes next to me on the bed, and ignored my steely gaze boring into his face – an impressive feat to say the least. A knock on the door scared me and made me yelp, and made him look up with relief. 

"Stay there," he said again, and he left to go answer it. I fervently prayed that someone had found my cat and had called the police, and that's who was knocking. 

"I think this belongs here," another male voice rumbled.

"Yes, it does. She was a little more clever than scared," said the man who had been watching me. The door closed, and I heard a bell jingle. It was the bell on my cats' collar, and she ran under the bed. Someone had found her, but not someone that would help me. 

"God FUCKING damn it!" I snapped. Footsteps made their way to the bedroom, and both the men were scowling irritably when they entered. I crossed my arms and glared furiously at them, not caring if it pissed them off. The only chance I had going for me had backfired, and now I was relying on my own cleverness to get out of this situation, something I had very little faith in. Angry tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over my lids as I clenched my hands into fists on the edge of the towel.

"You remember my promise from before. Don't attract attention," the man who had been watching me growled threateningly. His stature kept reminding me of Samson from the Bible, and dubbed him as such mentally. His new companion dressed similarly, and was of a similar build muscularly, but taller, on a lighter frame, and with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He reminded me of Thor.

"Get dressed. We're leaving now," Samson snapped curtly.

"Go fuck yourself! You have no right to tell me what to do, and you have no right to take me anywhere! I'm not leaving!" My temper broke, and before I realized what I was doing, I was standing inches away from him and growling in his face. Something changed in his stance, and Thor took a small step forward. My senses came back to me just before Samson wrapped his ankle behind mine, and tripped me backwards onto the bed, pinning my arms by my head.

His massive thighs were hard between mine as they pinned my legs open, and the towel slid to the side, covering nothing and exposing more than my body. I felt laid bare, mentally as well as physically. His breath was warm as it washed across my face, and despite my anger, I shook with fear as he spoke to Thor.

"You're going to dress her while I hold her arms behind her." Thor simply nodded, and picked up the thong as Samson slid to my side while still holding my arms. As he moved, he sat me up and twisted my arms behind me so I was sitting in his lap with my wrists at the small of my back.

Thor knelt in front of me, and slid the delicate lace up my legs. When it reached my thighs, I closed my legs, unwilling to let him any closer to a place that had already been violated once tonight. Without pausing, Thor slid his shoulders under my knees and stood, forcing me to lean back, parting my thighs easily to slide the thong under my ass and settling it around my hips. To my relief, he didn't seem to show any interest in doing anything more than dressing me. He grabbed the bra, and Samson stood with me, holding me forward, away from his chest while Thor clasped the bra around my breasts, leaving the straps down below my arms when Samson didn't release my wrists. Picking up the jeans, Thor knelt at my feet, and lifted each one by the ankle to step me into the denim. It was tight as he tried to pull it up my thighs, and when the hem reached the curve of my ass, he couldn't pull them up any more.

Samson sighed, and asked, "Are you going to dress yourself now?" Embarrassed and angry, I nodded once and wrenched my arms away as soon as I felt his grip on my wrists loosen. Snatching the belt loops on the jeans, I hopped and wiggled and shimmied, pulling them up around my ass and settling them around my hips, conscious of the way my breasts, perky 32C's, were bouncing in the cups of the bra. Once I had the jeans fastened, I slid my arms through the bra straps. I bent to grab the shirt, and as I did, I brushed against Thor. Neither he nor Samson had moved since letting go of me, and I was still pinned between them. I flinched, expecting some rebuke for appearing hostile, but he didn't move. Quickly, I slid the shirt on and stepped into the heels.

"Happy now?" I snapped, looking over my shoulder at Samson and glaring. Neither he nor Thor answered my rhetorical question. Thor began walking out of the apartment, and Samson steered me by my shoulders after him. They turned the lights out as they went, and my heart caught in my throat as I looked at my home. It had been invaded and violated. I had been violated. Even if I did come back here, it would never feel the same. It would always be tarnished, and I would always question my ability to defend myself. I would always question if I were safe. Would I ever feel safe in my own home again? What was going to happen? Would I ever see my home again?

I closed my eyes to keep more tears from falling as Samson steered me out of the apartment and down the hall to the stairwell. My shoulders shook with small hiccups, and I sniffed to keep snot from running down my face. Why was this happening? Who were these men? They knew what they were doing, and someone was making sure that they wouldn't touch me. Did that mean that they wouldn't hurt me, either? As we tread down the stairs, a hasty plan formed in my mind.

As we neared the bottom of the stairs, I let myself stumble – they had put me in six-inch heels after all. Samson lost his grip on me, and as I fell, I made sure to hit the back of Thors' knees, taking him down with me. They both grunted, Samson in surprise and Thor in pain as he fell onto his hip. I yelped, adding to the idea that it was an accident. I quickly glanced upwards from my hands and knees, and saw Samson reaching out for me again. Thor was still getting up. I took my chance.

Kicking of the heels, I sprinted towards the apartments across the street. I stayed on the dry grass along the side of the parking lot to keep from tipping on asphalt and eating it, and looked up and down the side street to see if any cars were coming. One was, but it mas moving slowly. If I kept sprinting, I could make it in front of the car before it rounded the turn. Staying on my toes and launching forward off my calves, I threw my legs out as far as possible, straining to run as fast as I could without falling. I knew I was fast when I tried to be. My long legs were strong enough to put power into the long strides I could take, and they good for covering ground. 

My feet hit concrete as I crossed the sidewalk, then I felt asphalt underneath me as I ran into the street. Headlights threw their beams across me, and I heard the engine rev. Whoever was driving accelerated instead of braking, and almost clipped me as I darted past the bumper. A muffled thud and screeching brakes sounded behind me. Ha! The driver had hit one of my pursuers. That, or he ran into the car. I almost laughed at the image, high on adrenaline and elated at the nearing apartment buildings. 

Not letting myself slow, I jumped up the curb and ran onto grass again. I heard a car door open behind me, and the engine accelerated again. They couldn't drive up onto the grass after me without getting someone's attention, something they were clearly avoiding doing since they weren't shouting, and hadn't shot at me. Grass gave way to a concrete path weaving through the apartment complex, and I followed it, still sprinting, putting as much distance as possible between the car and myself. The sound of heavy footsteps registered close behind me, gaining quickly. One of them must have gotten into the car while the other pursued me on foot. Filling my lungs deeply with air, I opened my mouth to scream like my life depended on it, which in many ways it did. 

His fingers grazed my back, and I thought I had dodged him when something slammed into the right side of my ribcage. The word "Taser" briefly registered in my mind before my body convulsed and collapsed to the ground, choking off the scream that had begun to emit from my throat. It felt like Mike Tyson was pummeling every inch of my body and slamming me into the ground. Every muscle was twitching and contracting, and my head hit the ground repeatedly. Any control I had over my limbs was forfeit, and I could do nothing but pray for this assault to stop. It didn't. Pain saturated my spazming body, and began overwhelming me. It must be Samson making good on his promise to Taser me until I passed out. I clung to consciousness like a drowning man to a life float. It was the only thing keeping me from passing into a void from which I would only awake into a living nightmare. If I could stay conscious, I could keep resisting.

Time was agony. Each second lasted an eternity, and whatever grasp I had on my mental facilities was slipping. The pain wouldn't stop, and I could do nothing but endure it. I could feel myself slipping, and fought it feebly. The pain just wouldn't stop, and it was consuming me bit by bit. There was nothing I could do but endure it. Just endure it. Just hang on. It won't stop. It's not stopping. It has to stop. This pain won't stop except in that sweet black abyss that is unconsciousness. Just make it stop...



Her body convulsed as John watched her slip into unconsciousness. She should have known better than to try and run off, he did warn her after all. He pulled the barbs from the pale flesh, and scowled at the burned skin underneath the two holes in the woman's shirt. There would be bruises blossoming over her pale skin. His pay was based on the woman's condition, which was worsening rapidly. She had some small scrapes from the pursuit in the park, and now she'd likely have a lump on her head from slamming into the ground along with the burns and bruises. Even with their planning, she had caused his companions and him some trouble. That was expected to a degree, especially from a woman with her background. 

Anne McCrae came from a family of eight, with five brothers. Being the middle child and the only female sibling must have been daunting. A life spent raised in the south only added to her inherent toughness, which was quite apparent in the time that John had spent with her so far. Like many young women, Anne loved horses. Unlike many women, Anne was an active rider. Confronting 1,000lb animals on a daily basis made her fearless, and she knew how to manhandle when she needed to. This ability was only enhanced by the martial arts training her oldest brother in the Marines had given her. On top of that, she had trained in Shaolin Kempo and Krav Maga. In short, she knew how to be brutally effective when she had to be.

John chuckled as he remembered the way she had dropped Sean like a rock in the park. He and Adam had taken pity on the newbie, and let him nurse his headache in the car instead of babysitting her like they had planned. He hefted her onto his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and jogged towards the van. They hadn't made too much noise, and there shouldn't be many people awake at midnight on a Tuesday. 

She was heavier than he expected. The information that had been gathered on Anne stated she was 150lbs, but at 5'7" she didn't appear to be carrying that much weight. He assumed it was packed into her muscle-bound legs and ass. Riding horses had certainly made her an athlete, something he had been able to see through the frosted glass as she showered. While there were no specific instructions to not fuck her, John knew it would be in poor taste when they were being paid so well to deliver her in prime condition. Especially when he remembered whom they were delivering her to. Even if he and his partners wouldn't get to fuck her, it'd be a joy to prep her, and he smirked at the thought.

"She okay?" Adam asked as John sat her in the middle seat of the van. Like John, he was conscious of the fact that their pay depended on Anne's condition upon arrival.

"She deserves to be roughed up a little," Sean scowled. At a solid 6' and 220lbs, he was larger than both John and Adam, and wasn't happy about getting owned by someone he had seventy pounds of muscle and five inches of height on, especially a woman. Adam and John both rolled their eyes. For $300 grand, it was worth taking a hit to your pride, but Sean didn't seem to remember that. Maybe he was embarrassed because he had been so insistent about being the one who grabbed her.

As John tied Anne's hands behind her back and buckled her into the seat, her shirt slipped up and revealed a pale stretch of beautiful, smooth skin along her hip. Neither John nor Adam missed the hungry glance Sean tried to hide, and Adam's blue eyes darkened as they met John's brown ones. Sean was a newbie, and didn't quite understand the rules yet. Adam and John both understood that they might need to teach him a lesson on etiquette when working with a high profile client.

John moved to the back seat, with Adam sitting next to the woman as Sean drove away from the apartment complex. He and Adam would likely come back later for the cat and other personal belongings. She wouldn't be coming back, after all.



The first thing I was aware of was a throbbing sensation coursing through my aching body. My eyelids were heavy, and I didn't want to open them anyway. Again, my brain didn't want to make sense of the sounds filling my ears. What was that throbbing? It was making my headache even worse. The noises I was hearing began to register, and the rhythmic rocking sensation clicked in my brain as a car. At least it was quiet in the cool interior. As my brain cleared, I realized that the throbbing feeling throughout my body was my own heartbeat. 

As my consciousness cleared even more, the aches in my body turned into searing pains. My headache went from a dull throb into a blinding pain radiating from my left temple. Despite my eyes being closed, I saw white, and moaned pitifully as my right side lit on fire. It felt like my horse had dragged me again. I knew the feeling of a body that's been pummeled, and this was much more concentrated than I had felt before. I heard someone mutter behind me, and I strained to make sense of what had been said. My brain didn't want to focus on the words. It was hard to focus on anything but the pain in my head.

"Give her some water." The words finally registered, and I whimpered as sounds became sharper and more abrasive. A hand lifted my chin gently, and I kept my eyes closed to try and keep that sense from assailing me as well. When I went to move my hands to take the water bottle pressed against my lips, I realized that they were bound.

"Just relax, and swallow." The voice beside me was gentle, like the fingers under my jaw, and I opened my mouth. The cool water was like elixir, and dulled some of the pain in my head. With my eyes still closed, I leaned my head back against the seat and tried to focus on the rhythmic rocking of the car. It was soothing and I felt myself slip into the limbo between being awake and asleep. I was grateful for the reprieve. Somewhere inside me, I knew that letting myself relax and rest for a moment would be beneficial in the long run, even if I didn't like sleeping with my captors so close.

I don't know how much time passed, but it felt like hours. Some moments I would feel almost alert, then I'd lose myself, and slip back towards unconsciousness. Sometimes I would hear the men muttering, but I couldn't make out the words. When I finally stayed closer to consciousness for long enough, I squinted my eyes open, cautious about adding another sense to my strained body and mind. The light peeking through my lids hurt, and I lowered my lids so that I could barely see through my lashes. The intensity faded bit by bit, and as it did, I let my eyes relax open. 

It was daylight, so a significant amount of time must have passed. The first thing I noticed was the cool grey interior of the car, what I could now identify as a van, and the heavily tinted windows. Thor was sitting to my left, and the man driving had black hair with a sizeable welt on his right temple. I wondered if he was the one that I had kicked in the park. Lifting my head, I looked to my left, where I knew someone was sitting. It was Thor.

"Do you want some more water?" He asked detachedly. I began to nod, but it made my head spin. When I tried to say yes, my voice caught in my throat. He understood though, and produced another Aquafina bottle. Again, he was gentle as he tipped it back to let the water wash down my throat. When he pulled it away, I fought the urge to say "thank you." There was nothing for me to thank him for when he was simply taking care of his investment. 

I heard a noise from the bench seat behind me, and assumed it was Samson since he wasn't the one driving. When I tried to turn my head around to check, pain lanced up my neck to my temple, and I let my head sink back onto the seat again. I let my head loll to the side as I gazed out the window to my right. The beautiful mountains of Colorado were nowhere to be seen ahead of us or to the right, so I could only hope that they were behind us or to the left. If we had driven through the night though, we could be in California, Texas, Wyoming, or through Kansas by now.

Hopelessness settled upon my shoulders like bags of sand, dragging me down and enveloping me. Between the pounding in my head and my aching body, I didn't have the strength to keep the tears from rolling down my face. I was angry, furious, with these men for having the audacity to enter my life so boldly and turn it upside down. I was angry at whoever paid them to do this for being brazen enough to think he had the right to do this to me. I was scared of the unknown ahead of me. Being scared made me even angrier. Nothing scared me. No situation in my life was daunting enough to scare me. I wasn't used to being afraid of anything, and now I had no form of security other than my own sanity. Even that felt like I was slipping away.




My Abduction Ch. 02



The van rocked me into a lull, and the men said very little as we drove along the highway. The sun slid across the sky, and as daylight turned into dusk, we began to weave through mountains once again. The motion of the car going through the switchbacks began to make me nauseous. I was glad I hadn't eaten in the last twenty-four hours, or I probably would have vomited already. A reluctance to engage with my captors made me hesitant to say anything about needing to stop the car, but when I moaned, Samson spoke up from the back seat.

"Sean, would you pull the car over already? I know that you can hear she's about to nark." He sounded exasperated, like they'd had previous issues.

"You think that's a good idea? She could try and run off again." Sean sounded defensive. They've definitely disagreed before.

"Well," Samson said coolly, "I suppose if you're so worried about it, you can chase her down again if she does run." It was dark, so I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like Sean's ears turned red. I got a snide satisfaction from seeing his embarrassment. He was definitely the one I had taken down in the park. The smugness I felt disappeared as another wave of nausea hit me, and I couldn't keep from moaning. 

"If she pukes in here, you're the one who's cleaning it up," Samson warned from the back. I heard an incoherent mumble from the front seat, and chuckled. That was a bad idea. My chuckle turned into a hiccup, which almost turned into vomit. Sean sighed irritably, but I was relieved when he pulled the van off to the side of the road. Thor reached across my lap to unbuckle the seat belt, and used my bicep to steer me out of the van.

The cool night air caressed my skin, and I sighed with relief as it washed across my forehead. Thor led me a few feet from the car, and when I stumbled, he clutched tightly to my bicep and glared at me.

I scoffed, "If you think I'm going to try and run right now, you're insane. But thank you for your concern." A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I stopped, bending over at the waist to keep from falling over.

"Do you need to sit down?" How sweet, he actually seemed concerned. I nodded, and he helped me kneel on the cool gravel. Wave after wave of nausea washed over me, each stronger than the last, until I finally couldn't contain it any more and vomited. He held my hair back from my face, and when I wasn't doing any more than dry heaving, he held a bottle of water in front of me. I nodded again, and he poured some into my mouth. I rinsed my teeth off, and spat it on the ground. When he didn't offer me any more, I had to ask.

"Please, could I have some more?" It was like a knife in my gut to bend my pride enough to ask, but I was smart enough to know that I had lost a lot of bodily fluids. Speaking of, I really needed to use the restroom. He poured more water into my mouth, and I swallowed gratefully, felling my headache ease. I felt my face burn with a blush, and could hardly mumble my request.

"I need to use the bathroom."

"What was that?" My face burned even more as I convinced myself to repeat it, this time more loudly.

"I need to use the bathroom. Could you untie my hands so I can do it myself? I don't have the strength to run away, even if I tried. Please?" I hated myself for begging, but I couldn't stand having him help me balance while I used the bathroom. He was quiet for a moment, and I was sure that he would refuse my request. He surprised me by crouching behind me, and untying my wrists.

"You remember what happened the last time you ran." It wasn't a question, and it wasn't a threat. It was a promise. I wouldn't be able to handle another experience like that right now, and he and I both knew it. My head was heavy, and I got dizzy again when I nodded.

"I need you to answer me." His voice was stern, and left no room for argument.

My voice cracked as I said, "I understand."

"Be back in two minutes." My legs shook as I stood, and the heels they had put me in made it even harder to walk to the thin tree line. It wasn't much, but it was better than having someone in the bathroom with me. When I stood, I almost couldn't make myself walk back to the van. I stood there for almost a minute, and could feel the clock ticking down to when Thor would come after me with a Taser. My high heels seemed to be weighed down with lead, and my legs didn't want to move. The first step I took back towards my imprisonment almost brought me to my knees. Only pure stubbornness kept me from falling. I wasn't about to give these men more power over me than they already had.

The second step I took was easier, but it still felt like I was stepping onto quicksand ready to pull me down and drown me. I clung to my pride and made myself take a third step, then a fourth, and then a fifth, all the while staring at the ground in front of me. When I bumped into something, I assumed it was a tree. When I looked up to see his blue eyes piercing into mine, I almost fell backwards.

"Your two minutes are up. Time to go back." His voice was passive and uncaring as he said it, reminding me that this was a job to him, one he clearly took very seriously. He wouldn't hesitate to do what was necessary to keep me within his possession. His hands were firm on my shoulders as he turned me around to tie my hands again. I pleaded with him again, this time to keep from being bound. My shoulders were cramping and my body ached enough as it was, keeping my arms in a strained position for who knows how much longer was a bad idea.

"Do you really think I have any way to try and escape? What difference does it make if my hands are tied or not? It's hurting, and I'm hurt enough as it is. You don't need to tie me up again."

He didn't tie my arms again, and I sighed with relief when I didn't feel the ropes around my wrists.

"We'll see what John has to say." John? Samson? That must be who he meant. Now I knew two names – Sean, the driver, and John, the brown-haired man that had watched me in my apartment. John seemed to be the leader of sorts. Now, I needed to find out what Thor's real name was. I was still reluctant to ask any questions. I may be in a desperate situation, but that didn't mean I would ask them for any more information than I could deduce myself.

When we approached the van, I could make out heated voices from inside. When the door slid open, it sounded like Sean was the one who was angry.

"What the fuck, man? Why isn't she tied? She could run off! What are you thinking?" To my surprise, Thor didn't answer – John did.

"Would you try and run off after being Tasered? After vomiting? After being bound for ten hours?" Sean said nothing in response to John's questioning. It was the hardest thing I had ever had to do up until that point, but I made myself climb into the van, and buckle my seat belt.

Sean stepped out of the driver's seat, and Thor stepped in. John moved to the seat next to me, and I looked behind me to see Sean lying down, and almost immediately falling asleep. We must have been driving a long time, and still a long drive ahead of us for them to be switching drivers.

The road stopped switching and twisting almost immediately, and I was embarrassed that the short stretch of switchbacks behind us had made me vomit. Then again, I hadn't eaten in almost a day, hadn't had much water, and had been Tasered into unconsciousness. I decided to cut myself a break. The swaying of the car rocked and lulled my tired body until I was almost falling asleep again. I would start to drift off into the sweet escape of dreamland, where I just might awake to discover that this was just a nightmare, then my body would slip to the side, and I'd be jolted awake by the seatbelt catching me. Kicking my heels off, I finally curled into a half fetal position with one leg tucked underneath me, and I let sleep embrace me with it's deceitful caress.

When I awoke, my perception was skewed. For some reason, the seats in front of me were sideways. There was something soft under my head, and a warm weight was draped over my shoulder, avoiding my hurt ribcage. I was lying with my head in John's lap. My body protested as I bolted upright once I realized the situation I was in. His head was lolled back in sleep, and my sudden movement woke him up. Unlike most men I had known, he didn't awaken slowly with a grumble. His eyes opened immediately, and were clear as he sat up and took in his surroundings, including me. My long hair was rumpled, of course, but what bothered me was my displaced bra, and the fact that my shirt had slid halfway up my torso.

John's voice was clear as he asked, "Adam, how close are we?" The blonde man's name was Adam. John, Adam, and Sean were the men who had abducted me. John seemed to be the one in charge by default, and he probably had the most experience with this sort of thing. Adam seemed to know what he was doing, but deferred to John, either through lack of experience, or he just wasn't an A-type personality. Sean was the odd man out. There was a definite tension between him and John, which seemed somewhat dissipated by Adam. Sean seemed to question any and all judgment calls, and seemed to crave control despite the fact that he wasn't equipped to be in control. There was no way that tension wouldn't come to a head, and I didn't want to be around when it happened.

"About half an hour. Is Sean still sleeping?" Adam sounded irritated, and glanced into the rearview mirror to see John nod. His blue eyes glanced at me, and saw my disheveled state. I glared at him as I blushed, and immediately readjusted my bra and straightened my shirt.

"Think we should wake him up, or let him get bit in the ass?" There was an undercurrent of humor in this question, and I wondered at it.

John smirked as he answered, "Let him get bitten. He could use a wake-up call like that."

The remainder of the drive elapsed in silence, which only made me more anxious. Where had we driven? It was still dark outside, so I couldn't see any scenery that would give me an idea of where we were. We had driven at least fifteen hours, and I had been asleep for much of it, which skewed my sense of time. I slowly lifted the right side of my shirt to examine my ribcage. There were two small burns from the Taser, and the area around them was a deep purple bruise tinged with green around the edge. I'd had enough bruises this color to know that it was about a full day old. Maybe we had been driving for more than fifteen hours.

The clock on the dashboard said nine, and I assumed it was nine in the evening since it was so dark. The headlights swept around a corner, and I saw a massive iron gate attached to granite pillars. Adam stopped the van, and punched a series of digits into a keypad. The opulent gate opened, and he drove through the archway slowly.

The driveway was framed by thick, dark forest on either side, but I couldn't tell if it was hardwood or softwood, evergreen or deciduous. The ground seemed wet, like it had just rained. Were we in a temperate zone? Tropical? Where were we? A small path led off from the driveway, and the van turned onto it. 

After another five minutes or so, a small, but impressive building came into view. It could be called a shack, but for the quality of the architecture. It seemed big enough to only contain a few rooms, and almost an entire side of the building had glass windows from ground to ceiling. A small garage, just large enough for the van, was set to the side, and we pulled into it before I could make out any more details from the building.

Adam parked the car, and Sean jerked awake in the back seat, almost rolling out of it as the van came to a stop. He woke up like most men I had known – slowly and with a lot of groaning, or in this case, a yelp. I was too nervous to laugh at the humor of his predicament. Something was finally going to happen, and I had no idea what it was going to be. This small building in the woods didn't seem like our final destination, but I couldn't think of where our final destination might be. Were they taking me out of the country? With how long we had driven, we could be far north, near Canada, or far south, near Mexico. It scared me to think that I had no idea where I was. I was completely at their mercy.

John looked into my eyes as he reminded me, "You remember what happened the last time you tried to run." When I nodded, he said, "I need to hear you answer." 

"It's hard to forget what happened when I'll probably have scars from the experience," I snapped at him. He scowled, and I ignored it. He would only have cause to hurt me if I tried to escape. I wanted to, but reason prevailed, and I knew better than to try and run away again. He was probably only scowling because it meant he would be in trouble, anyway. 

We all climbed out of the van, and I fell into step behind John. Adam followed me, and Sean took up the rear a few steps back. He still seemed sleepy to me. We left the garage, and cold, humid air took my breath away. It was refreshing, and the moisture felt so good compared to the dry air of Colorado. I must be near the coast. John led us into the building through a small door on the back side of the building, and into a room that almost felt like a doctors office. 

A large mirror was set into one wall next to a door, with a small bookshelf and desk on the other side, and a couch on the wall directly across from the door we had just walked through. The room was perfectly square, and the linoleum was made to look like pale wood instead of tile. The walls were painted a soft off-white color, and the lighting was warmer than the fluorescent lights in a doctors office, but there was a certain sterility to the room that made it feel detached from the world, the same way a doctors office was detached.

John and Adam walked to the couch, and sat on the far ends, with plenty of space in the middle between them. I assumed that was where I was supposed to sit, but I was loath to comply with any plans these men had for me. Sean stayed behind me and stood in the doorway, blocking my escape. None of them seemed to pay attention to the other door, so I assumed there was something on the other side that would keep me from leaving. Instead of sitting between my assailants on the couch, I chose to sit at the desk. John started to laugh, then tried to cover it up with a cough, but he fooled no one.

My body felt wired and ready to snap as we waited for I don't know what. They all seemed at ease, especially Sean. He still seemed like he was falling asleep. The click of a door opening made me jump to me feet, and I felt myself half crouch into a defensive stance behind the desk. A trim, wiry man walked in. His hair was peppered with white, despite his youthful face, and his grey eyes were sharp and intelligent. The flannel jacket over his sweater was of a high quality, and his slacks seemed fresh pressed despite the late hour.

"Hello, Anne." I felt myself bristle as he addressed me by name. How dare he have the audacity to address me so casually? How dare he be so friendly? He had to know how I had gotten here. The abrasions on my body and burns in my shirt were clear signs that I hadn't come quietly. He smiled with his eyes as he saw my shoulders tense. I knew it was an impressive sight from the days I spent perfecting my stances in front of a mirror. My thighs may be my strongest feature, but my shoulders and upper back were the most impressive. The muscle was lean and cut, and when my body tensed like it was now, I looked like pure power.

"There's no need to be like that, no one here is going to hurt you. You're safe here, sweetheart." He had opened his hands, palm up, towards me as a placating gesture that only served to incise me more.

"Excuse me?! How dare you try to tell me that no one here is going to hurt me? HE," I gestured violently to Sean, "tried to kidnap me as I was running! HE," I gestured to Adam, "tried to tackle me when I got away! And HE," flinging my arm and John, I felt my voice rise another octave, "invaded my home, assaulted me not one, but twice! And ALL of these FUCKERS have ripped me from my home and everything I know and hold dear! I have every right to 'be like that!' You have no IDEA what this last day has been like for me! How FUCKING DARE YOU tell me that no one here is going to hurt me! Even you're hurting me just by being a part of this! And then you have the fucking balls to call me SWEETHEART?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

I was shaking when I had started my rant, and by the end, it felt like my blood was boiling. The shaking in my limbs wouldn't stop, and I wanted nothing more than to launch myself at the man staring so calmly at me. My muscles were spazming, and I could feel my ears twitching as I listened to the men seated and standing on either side of me. None of them had become agitated at my rant, and their serenity is what drove home my helplessness. No matter how hard I fought this, I would not win. Not right now. I couldn't fight my way out of this situation; I would have to think my way out. Fuck.

"My name is Brian. I'm sorry you're so upset, but please understand that we're here to help you. My job is to assess the injuries you've accumulated, and provide treatment. These men are here for your own well-being. Without them, you would have been hurt even more." This fucker was trying to make me complacent. He was trying to make me see them in a positive light, and think of them as my saviors instead of my abductors. "There are many other people who would not be so gentle and caring as these men have been. You're fortunate to have met them. They are good men, and would never hurt you."

I filtered out every word he said. There was no way I would be complacent and docile, not with men willing to subject other people to this kind of treatment, and not to a manipulator who wanted me to see the men who hurt me as my saviors. I would not stop fighting, not today.

"Please, Anne, let me make sure you're alright. We want to take care of you." He smiled as he said it, and spoke as he would to a child – comforting and soothing. A part of me wanted to break down and cry and let him take care of me. My head and body hurt more than it ever had before, and I was heartbroken from being ripped from my home and having my premisconceptions about my identity torn down. I wanted to be held and coddled and given a band-aid. I wanted to be cared for and told that everything would be okay. But, if I let myself do that, I knew it would be a lie. Things would not be okay as long as I was a victim of the situation, and Brian seemed determined to play on that mentality.

I am not a victim. This will make me stronger. I refuse to give men like this power over me. They will be my victims, not the other way around. I will tear their premisconceptions from them the same way they have torn mine from me, and I will not let them inflict suffering upon me. I am better than this.

Brian took a step towards me, and I didn't move. Taking a step backwards would be giving him power over my actions, and I refused to let him manipulate me.

"It's okay sweetheart, just let me look at you." He moved slowly and patiently, taking another step towards me, acting like he was cornering a wild animal. 

"Are you going to be good and let me help you?" He asked as he stepped even closer and took my face in one of his hands. I didn't move, and I refused to speak, consenting only to glare at him vehemently.

"Don't be like that, baby girl, it's okay. Sean? Would you come help me, please?" My head snapped around to watch Sean move towards me. Why the fuck would Brian ask Sean for help instead of John or Adam? They were more experienced than Sean.

"We're going to take your clothes off now, and you're going to be good and let us, ok sweetie?" Sean grasped my wrists, and held them easily above my head as Brian slid my shirt up my body. Sean grasped the edge with one hand, and pulled it off, keeping my hands above me. Brian slid my heels off of my feet gently, leaving me standing stretched on my tiptoes as he unbuckled my jeans. He had to tug hard to get them off my hips, but once he did they slid off easily. He tugged them from around my feet, and folded them neatly before placing them on the edge of the desk next to my shirt.




My Abduction Ch. 02



John had done well when he chose this matching lingerie set. My auburn hair contrasted with, yet was complimented by, the pale blue bra as it spilled across my chest. It made my pale skin seem smooth and flawless, and the light blue fabric made my chameleon eyes a deep blue darkened by my hair.

Brian tsk-ed at the purple stain spreading across my pale skin. The burn marks were tender, and I hissed as he probed the flesh around them. He took my chin in his fingertips, and turned my face from side to side as he looked at the goose egg on my forehead under my hairline, then at the small abrasions along my cheekbone and jaw. As he crouched to examine my legs, I noticed more small scratches and bruises. My knees were bruised, probably from tumbling to the ground repeatedly, and there were thin scrapes from the brambles crisscrossing my thighs and calves.

"Sean, if you please," Brian asked, twirling with his finger, indicating that I should be turned around. I bristled as he spoke about me so objectively. His fingers were cool as they undid my bra clasp, and Sean automatically reached down to pull it off my arms. Now that I was facing Sean, I did my best to incinerate him with the heat of my gaze, daring him to stare down at my breasts. He dared, but when I went to knee his groin in retaliation, he let go of my wrists and I fell to the floor, landing on my ass with an unladylike grunt.

"My dear, you really should know better. We're just making sure that you're alright." Brian sounded slightly exasperated and Sean gloated down at me. I glanced over at John and Adam on the couch, and they seemed quite disinterested except for the bulges in their jeans. At least they had the decency to not objectify me.

"Sean, if you and Adam would take this young lady to get cleaned up, John and I need to have a conversations about using excessive force."

Adam stood and shot a look at the shit-eating grin on Sean's face, which Sean ignored. This attitude is probably why Sean clashed with John so much – he was unprofessional and rude. Although, my opinion might be a bit biased. I crossed my arms over my breasts to try and maintain some modesty, then dropped them as I realized that it only gave them power over how much vulnerability I felt. Adam gestured for me to follow him, and he led Sean and me out the office room. 

The hallway on the other side of the door was as clinical-feeling as the office. It had the same flooring and paint scheme on the walls, with dark wooden doorways appearing periodically on the right side of the hall. We passed the first door to our immediate right, and then walked past the second, third, and fourth doorways before entering the fifth. I couldn't help but wonder what was behind the other doors.

The room we entered into was essentially a locker room-style shower. The floor was on a slight grade with a drain in the middle, and artistically set with small white and blue tiles in spiraling geometric forms. A long swinging arm was set into the ceiling with a hose attached to it. An eyehook was centered over the drain, and along the near wall to my left was a series of shampoos, soaps, razors, and lotions. What was odd were the nylon ropes looped on hooks above the shampoos. The wall to my right had another mirror set into it, and I began to think that they were one way windows, and not just there for cosmetic purposes.

Adam took a length of rope, looped it quickly around my wrists, and threaded the loose end through the eyehook before securing it with a quick knot. Once again, I was standing on my tiptoes facing the mirror. 

Sean's voice was guttural as he growled to Adam, "I can't wait to rip that lacy little thong off!" Most of me was angry, but a small part was scared. I was in no way to keep that from happening, and I didn't know if Adam could put Sean in his place the way John could. My fears abated when Adam rolled his eyes and stayed calm, selecting soaps and a razor.

"You must really love prepping women, huh," Adam grunted noncommittally. "Who knew you'd like washing and shaving so much?"

He stripped his shirt off, and jerked his head towards the door, telling Sean, "Guard that, would you? She's feeling feisty again." Again, the objectiveness of my treatment rubbed me the wrong way, and I had to fight to keep my temper in check. I didn't want to piss off the man who was about to shave me. Did they really think that I couldn't just do this myself? Did they really think that I needed Adam to kneel in front of me and slip my thing from my hips?

He turned the water on, and pulled the hose towards me, testing the temperature with his hand before rinsing my body quickly. I sputtered as he soaked my hair and my long bangs dripped into my face. When I was thoroughly soaked, he turned the hose off to squirt some shampoo into his palm. The smell of rosemary and mint filled my nostrils, and the earthy freshness of it helped me relax for some reason. Adam's fingers slid into my thick tresses, and slowly massaged my scalp. I wanted to twist away from him and take care of myself. I'm a twenty-year-old woman for Christ's sake! I can wash my own hair and shave myself! But I had to admit that he knew what he was doing. His hands were gentle, but firm as they sank into my scalp, and scrubbed away any dirt and sweat I had missed from my shower the day before.

His fingers in my hair and the smell of the shampoo soothed me mentally, if not physically. His fingers traced from my scalp down to my neck. One hand kneaded at the tension there, and the other slipped around my torso to trace along my collarbone. The familiar touch raked my pride, and I did my best to ignore it. It was hard to feel neutral towards his fingers tracing a delicate path along my skin. They slid easily along my soapy flesh, and before I realized what was happening, his hand was cupping my right breast with his thumb flicking softly against my nipple. My shoulders tensed against my will, and he pinched my nipple in response.

I sank my teeth into my tongue to keep from moaning as the tingling that coursed from Adam's fingertips. He only hesitated at my nipple for a moment before sliding his hand gently over the bruising on my ribs. His other hand moved from my neck to grasp my hip, kneading his fingers into it as he pulled me back flush against his body. His hard on nestled perfectly between my ass cheeks through his jeans, and when he ground his hips into my ass I almost whimpered in pleasure. I was so broken down that it was hard to resist the pleasure tickling across my body, seducing me. When Adam's hand slid from my hip to rest over my pussy, I tensed and tried to squirm away, but only succeeded in grinding against his cock behind me.

He sighed, and his breath across my neck gave me goose bumps and made my nipples harden. Using one finger, he pushed between my lips and slowly caressed my clit, teasing it out from under its hood. His other hand slid around to my backside, and clutched one cheek firmly before giving it a wet slap. It startled me, and when I pulled away I slid further onto his finger until it was resting at my entrance. I froze, unwilling to move forward onto his finger, and unwilling to move back towards his hard cock and stinging hand.

My body strained as I held myself between a rock and a very literal hard place, refusing to show which I would rather endure. He didn't move, other than to slowly curl his finger and rub along my slit, telling me without words to choose the pleasure, to let him take me, to lose myself in lust. My temper flared, and I jerked my hips away from his hand. My ass slammed back into his hips as I straightened suddenly, and my arms shook with anger and fatigue. My body had no more energy to fight today. Holding myself in that pose had been hard enough, let alone trying to fight or run. 

Adam said nothing, and stepped back away from me. I could see him in the mirror grabbing another rope, twining one end around his hand to make a lash. My heartbeat accelerated, and I wondered how far he would go, how much he would hurt me.

"You cracked a tooth when you elbowed me in the park, and because of you I was hit by a car. You're not the only one who's bruised and battered after the last few days, but unlike you, I have the choice to inflict more pain. And unfortunately for you, I am going to enjoy taking out my pain on your hide."

My eyes grew wide at his words, and I watched him step closer to me once again. He swung the thin rope experimentally, testing its weight and feeling how it danced when he moved it. Trying to force myself to relax, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, draining the tension from my muscles. I kept my eyes closed as I heard Adam move behind me. There was a small whistle as I heard the rope move through the air, and it popped viciously against my ass. I jumped a little, but bit back my yelp of surprise. Showing them how much it hurt would only give them power.

"You're getting twenty lashes. That was one. Someday, you'll have to count and ask for another, but not today. Be grateful for that." The rope sang through the air again, and snapped higher up, almost on my lower back. Fuck! That hurt a lot more than on my ass. My jaw clenched as I reminded myself to not cry out. Three more blows snapped into my flesh, and I clutched at the ropes above my wrists. I wasn't used to this kind of pain, the kind that burned and stung and lasted even after the blow was gone. The kind of pain I was used to faded to dull aches after a moment, and never left fiery welts on my flesh.

The next blow hit my other cheek, and I bit my lip to keep from whimpering. This was more than just pain - this was degrading. If he were lashing my back, maybe this wouldn't be so mentally painful as well. But no, he was lashing my ass, a place with sexual connotations. Prisoners and slaves got lashed on their backs, but something was different here. I was a prisoner to be sure, but there was an inherent sexual nature to the last day. From being dressed in my nice lingerie, to being stripped in front of an audience, from being objectified and degraded, to being washed and lashed, there was an undercurrent of sexuality.

Four more blows bit into my left cheek, and my lip was aching from biting it so hard. Adam paused for a moment, and I took the chance to take a deep breath when I knew a blow wouldn't come and make me yelp. I had barely exhaled and composed myself when five blows in quick succession crisscrossed across both cheeks, striping across welts from previous blows. My body shook, and tears pooled in my eyes, but I refused to cry out or let them fall.

The next five strikes came more slowly, but each one traced exactly over a previous mark. The first blow made me hold my breath to keep from making a noise. The second made me clench my eyes shut and bite my lip again. The third was on my lower back again, and my entire body locked up to fight the pain. The fourth made me open my mouth in a silent cry. The fifth blow, and the last, snapped between my legs to pop against my pussy, and the tears in my eyes spilled over. I hated myself for the small whimper that came from my throat.

I clenched my eyes shut to try and stop the tears, and I heard Adam putting the rope away behind me. His hands quickly soaped my body up again, and I kept my eyes closed as he quickly shaved the hair from my legs and pussy. He was careful to not nick me, but I knew that it was a poorer job than I would have done. I heard the hose turn on again, and warm water washed over my body. He rinsed out my hair thoroughly, and I wished for my own private shower back at home. My home. My intuition told me that I wasn't going back.

My eyes still closed, I heard Adam walk away again, then felt something soft running over my body. He was toweling me off. His hands softly kneaded my scalp, drying my hair, and he was careful to pat my tender ass and side dry instead of wiping me down like he did on the rest of my body. He untied the knot around the eyehook, and held me steady as I found my balance again. I still hadn't opened my eyes, and jumped when he touched my face.

My eyes flew open, and I immediately took a step backwards. The rope was still tied about my wrists, with the loose end in his hand. The step I took used up all the slack, and the way he was holding it made it clear that I wasn't going to get any more. How symbolic. Adam was peering into my face, trying to read it no doubt, and I put on a mask of impassiveness. I tried to, at least. I was too angry to look anything less than sullen. I looked away from Adam towards Sean. His face was red, and his arms were crossed tightly against his chest. Were it not for the hardness of his jaw and his intimidating physique, he would look like a petulant child. As it was, he looked like a very angry, very powerful man who might not take kindly to not getting what he wanted. The look in his eyes made it clear – what he wanted was to be the one hurting me. 

My eyes glanced back up to the welt on his temple, and the intense bruising starting to spread across the olive skin of his cheek and around his eye. He was the largest of the three men who had abducted me, and he was the one I had knocked to the ground with a single blow. My pride swelled, but deflated once I realized that his ego was badly wounded, and only exacting his revenge on me would heal it. He would want to prove that he was better than me to try and regain his sense of self-worth. What scared me is that I didn't know how he would try and do that.

Sean spun around and threw the door open, holding it open as Adam lead me out by the rope. He turned left down the hallway, back the way we had come earlier, and lead me into the second door we passed, the third doorway coming from the office. The room we entered was carpeted with plush, tan fibers. My feet sank into them luxuriously, and I was surprised at the creature comforts within the room. 

There was a closet and bathroom, neither of which had doors, directly across from the doorway we had entered. A queen-size bed stretched lengthwise along the room. The headboard was plain, and the sheets were simple. There were no dressers or bedside tables. The room was nice, but very simple, and the only thing that tarnished it were the mirrors that were set into the walls. I was positive that they were one-way, and that someone was watching from behind them.

"There are toiletries in the bathroom, and clothes for you in the closet. You won't be bothered again tonight, so try and get some rest if you can." Adam's voice startled me a little as he turned around to untie the ropes. I had been looking at the mirrors, wondering who was watching. More guards? Brian? The man who arranged all this? Only time and patience would give me the answers I sought. The longer I spent here, the more my chances of escape diminished, and I was short on patience as well. I sighed in frustration, and rubbed my wrists to get the circulation flowing through them again.

Sean said nothing as he and Adam departed, and when the door shut behind me, I heard the click of a lock. I looked over my shoulder, and saw that there was no handle on my side. That fact stung, reminding me that I was a prisoner. I distracted myself by going into the bathroom and brushing out my long hair until it was dry. It hung lightly around my face, and it numbly registered that they had very nice shampoo. Once my hair was dry, I brushed my teeth for a good five minutes, trying to scrub away the resentment I felt for myself. There must have been something I could have done to avoid getting into this situation.

My teeth scrubbed and hair brushed and dry, I ventured to the closet to see what clothes were in there. A few simple shirts hung from hangers, and pants, underwear, and socks were all stacked into small piles on the shelves. My feet were cold, as usual, so I grabbed a wool pair of socks and put them on quickly. Reaching back to brush the welts on my ass, I decided against underwear. The pajama pants I picked were soft and luxurious on the outside, and lined with fleece on the inside. It kissed against my skin sweetly, and after the last day or so, that small comfort was like heaven. Without putting on a bra, I grabbed a wife beater and slipped it over my head before leaving the closet.

There was nothing else for me to do but climb into the soft bed. The sheets were flannel as well, and oh-so-soft. The plush pillows seemed to pull me down into them and wrap around me like comforting arms. I curled onto my side, pulling the blankets up almost over my head, nestling and burying myself in the warm comfort of the sheets. 

My breath was shaky as I sighed again, this time from exhaustion, and tired tears wanted to roll down my face. I wouldn't allow it. I had done enough crying, certainly a lot more than I had ever done in such a small stretch of time. Besides, if someone was watching me like my intuition told me, it would only give them more power over me. Crying wasn't an option tonight. Holding my tears back, I let myself sink into the bed, let myself sink into the comforting pillows, and sleep harder than I ever had before.



My Abduction Ch. 03



The café was busy and I felt rushed off of my feet serving the crowded tables. As I carried meals to customers, my big hips would brush against arms of seated diners, sending a shiver up my spine if the person was attractive. If they looked up at me I would start to blush, stammering the names of the meals as I placed them in front of the diners. Occasionally I felt a hand surreptitiously move under the table to touch and even caress my bare thigh before I moved away almost delirious in longing to have the moment last longer and for the hand to slid up higher inside my thigh and touch my throbbing pussy. Oh yes, it was throbbing all right. I had been in a constant state of arousal all day. Since leaving my apartment and sending the young guy on his way, in the morning, I had gone to lectures and then to my job at the café. 

Yet throughout the day, my mind insisted on reverting to the night of incredible sex with the young guy. He told me his name several times, trying to engage me in conversation about myself. But I blocked out his conversation. I purposefully let his name slip away from my memory. I did not want to know him on that level. Instead, I had picked him up in a bar and taken him home so that he could fuck himself silly on my young big body with its bouncing big boobs, heavy thighs and big booty that was made for splitting with a big long thin cock like he had. 

After the first fuck he had dozed off and I watched his sweet virginal face breathing shallow breaths as he relived in his little dream fucking my wet pussy as hard as he could before cumming inside me. I let him rest for 10 minutes and then I slid down the bed and took his flaccid cock in my mouth. I loved the feel of the soft cock fitting easily into my mouth now that it was spent. The sensation of his cock skin, so soft and loose on my tongue was heavenly. I started to dribble saliva and I made sure his cock was well slicked with it as I began to suck and then swirl my tongue over the head. Playing with my newfound toy, I let it grow inside my mouth until it was nearly hard. He was awake by now and his hips began to move, pushing himself into my slobbering mouth. I shook my head to tell him not to do that. I wanted to show him how good I was at pleasuring him; I wanted to give him sensations that he had never experienced before. Then, when he was really boiling with the need to cum, I would stop and leave him frustrated so that I could find out how assertive he would become when aroused to the point of intense sexual need. Faster and faster, my mouth took his cock deeper and deeper into my throat until I had to stop as I gagged on the head of his long cock filling my larynx. His cock bobbed as if spring loaded. It was incredibly hard and long. Salvia dribbled out of my mouth onto his thigh as I had a choking fit. He was apologising or something. I could hear him but didn't need to know that he was worried that he had hurt me. 

Instead I rolled off of the bed and staggered to the end and backed up to lean against the wall, naked and with slobber dripping down my chin. He was confused to the point of being speechless. Smiling at him I licked a finger and rubbed it over my nipple on my left breast, cupping it underneath with my other hand. Then I lifted my soft, heavy 38DD breast up so that I could suck the nipple, stretching it and letting it go before repeating the sucking stretching cycle. I moved between my breasts, taking turns to arouse both nipples until they were as hard as his cock. I watched him as he stroked his cock, watching my lewd display until he started to move to get off the bed and come to me. I told him to stay there. I hadn't finished yet. I then continued to tease him by playing with my cunt, touching myself with an index finger, softly around the top of my sex, then around my clit and finally down and into my slippery dripping cunt that was full of his cum. I sort of lost the plot then for a while as I enjoyed fingering myself with my eyes closed until my knees started to shake and I knew I would cum right there and then. He was still watching me from the bed, his jaw slack, mouth open in incredulity. He had never seen a woman play with herself and it was obviously something between a shock and an erotic wet dream. 

Before he could do anything I laughed and ran out of the room shouting, catch me if you can like a little girl playing with her siblings. He chased me around the small apartment, grabbing at me but losing me because he was cautious and clearly worried he might crash into something and break it. With this advantage I managed to escape his grasp several times but he finally trapped me in the tiny lounge between the sofa and the wall by pushing the sofa towards the wall as I ran behind it. I was laughing uncontrollably in big gasps of breath that thrust my tits up and down. He was more serious and a little angry that I was such a mental case. He knelt on the sofa and went to kiss me but I was a bitch and turned my head away, saying in a gasp that I wanted him to make me suck him. Make me do it I challenged him. His thoughts of a romantic coupling were not on my agenda. I needed to be used by him. He was stunned and stopped and his cock wilted. This wasn't a good result. See what happens when you get cheeky little miss my mother's voice taunted me in my head. All my confidence evaporated and I felt foolish and stupid. My chin quivered and I was about to cry. I could feel the sobs beginning in my fat tummy, edging up towards my constricted throat. My little girl voice in my brain was already whimpering saying that nobody wanted us. I knew I was worthless and I had frightened off this perfectly nice innocent guy with my stupid antics. Tears welled in my eyes, my shoulders slumped and any resistance in me was gone. I was defeated. Defeated by my own inadequacies.

Then I felt his hand grab a handful of my long brown hair right down at my scalp. He had a big handful of my luxuriant hair and he tugged it roughly so that I was forced to bend forward over the back of the sofa until my mouth was level with his cock. I let out a cry of pain as I went down but he didn't care. He must have been so pissed off with me that he had lost all control. No longer was he the gentle virgin. His tool still wasn't hard and with his free hand he fed it into my open mouth. A thrill of triumph went through me. He wants me I screamed inside my head. You little slut my mother's voice admonished. I ignored her and focussed on the treasure in my mouth. He waited keeping still as I licked and slobbered and sucked until his elongated tool was back into its incredible rock hard state. 

Then he took another handful of my hair so that both his hands held my head with swathes of my hair. Using this hold on me, he began to face fuck me, pulling my mouth up and down on his cock. He was slow at first and feeling the head slide over my tongue was delicious. After a few minutes he became hornier or more emboldened and started to force his cock down my throat. He got a rhythm going with about every third of fourth thrust stronger than the others, pushing his long thin fuck tool into my larynx. It got to the point where I gagged and snot came out of my nose. As he roughly pulled my mouth off of his cock I coughed up saliva in long stings that ran over my face when he pushed me back to work. 

My breasts were crushed against the material of the sofa and it rubbed harshly over my hard nipples that sent tingles to my pussy. Trapped with my butt against the wall and my fat tummy on the back of the sofa I tried to get a hand back and under me to touch my clit but it was impossible. I was sort of bound by the position I was in. The only thing I could do was move my head up and down at the command of his two hands in my hair. Faster and faster he went until I felt his cock twitch and spasm and spurt his sex juice into my slut-fuck face-hole of a mouth. Well that is what my mother's voice in my head was telling me as I sucked up the last of his juices before he pulled my head up so that his wilting cock fell out of my mouth. Then he let go of my hair and slumped, still kneeling on the sofa with his head on my back. 

My face was now pushed into the back of sofa so that it was difficult to breath but he didn't seem to care. The muscles in my legs were starting to hurt with me bent over double, my legs on one side and my upper body on the other side of the sofa back. You could suffocate like that you silly bitch the sanctimonious voice of my mother observed in my head. Too true mum I replied. I had to do something and so I grabbed his sticky soft cock and gave it a tug and a squeeze. He jumped off me and realising I was in a bad way he pulled the sofa away from the wall, releasing the pressure on my legs. I slowly stood up feeling the pain rip through my stretched legs but I deserved it for being so immature. I stood gazing at nothing in particular while I revelled in the pain until it subsided. You're a real sicko, you know that mum whispered to me in my foggy mind. But wasn't it good she went on to say. I wanted mum to go away and leave me alone and stop talking to me but I knew that she wouldn't. She was my way of talking to myself to figure out what was going on. He was spent for the moment and no use to my pussy. I realised that it felt swollen, engorged with blood around the lips making it feel puffy and hot. I regretted the blowjob now and wished that he had stopped to fuck me. He was in a world of his own, now sitting on the sofa facing away from me. We didn't speak and I walked out to the kitchen. 

I had an idea to do something I had never done. I got the olive oil bottle and smeared a handful over my tits, rubbing it into them and leaving them all slippery. I enjoyed the way my big boobs fought with my hands as I tried to squeeze them. Then I did the same thing with my ample backside before getting oil on a finger and pushing it up my tight bum. I stood for ages it seemed, feeding my butt hole with oil and stretching it with my fingers. I was really enjoying being so dirty alone while in the adjoining room he was dozing on my sofa. 

When I returned to the lounge he was lying on the sofa with his eyes closed and his hand on his cock. I climbed astride him with my cunt below his cock and began to body slide his chest with my uncontrollable oil slippery tits. He went to speak and again I shook my head, no. He closed his eyes again and let me have his body. It was as if we were passing control between the two of us. After abusing my hair and my mouth so badly, hurting me as he took his pleasure of me, he was now content to indulge my whim and let me service him as I chose. But I knew deep down in my gut that before long he would take over and whether I liked it or not he would use me as he wanted. It made my heart beat faster. 

Up and down his chest my tits mashed against him, I slid with my nipples exalting in the feel of his chest hair scratching them in the most delightful way. Each time my tits reached his chin I would rub my pussy over his slack cock. I got wetter and wetter and he got harder and harder. Soon he was trying to push into my cunt but I keep up my sliding so that I teased him. Then I turned around and pushed my wet cunt onto his nose. I rubbed it around his nose and mouth and then lifted up so that he could lick me. In unison to his tongue on my clit, I started to lick his recovering cock. The more I licked him without taking his fuck pole in my mouth, the more he copied me on my clit until I started to shudder as a powerful orgasm surprised me and took my breath away. I lay with my mouth on his balls whimpering as the spasms sent contractions into my belly and liquid fire coursed through my veins. I twitched my limbs with each spasm and cried into his hairy balls. 

We lay there quiet for ages while I enjoyed little spasms of aftershock. I had settled my big butt on his face and he sucked and swallowed my juices between pushing me up so that he could exhale before taking another breath and letting my cunt fall back onto his face. Not quite like gagging on a cock but close enough I thought with a giggle to myself. Finally he pushed my hips so that I fell onto the floor where I curled up in a ball with my hands between my legs. He sat up and then got down on the floor with me. He rolled me over onto my stomach and hitched up my knees. Doggy was the word that broadcast itself to my fucked brain. He got behind me and pushed none to gently into my very sloppy cunt, fucking me aggressively and spanking my big arse cheeks that must have been wobbling with his thrusts. The sting of his hands on my butt together with the invasion of such a long cock inside me started another orgasm that nearly wrecked me. My arms gave way and I lay cheek on carpet, tits rubbing as he fucked my cunt and knees burning as I slid back and forward with his thrusts.

He must have seen all the oil on my butt and his finger slipped into my stretched rosebud. Then another and another. Three fingers fucked my arse while his ravaging cock plundered my pussy. I couldn't believe it but he got me to orgasm again with all this violent action. My cheek was feeling raw rubbing on the carpet but I couldn't do anything about it for the moment. I was lost in a boiling of my insides as my rosebud spasmed on his fingers and my cunt clenched his long tool. Thank goodness he stopped and slowly withdrew while I still twitched. I crawled forward to kneel in front of the sofa and rest my upper body against it. Now I could brace myself against his thrust and not slide over the carpet. 

I arched my back and presented by backside to his eyes. I felt his hands on my hips and then on my butt spreading my cheeks wide. Then I felt his hand guiding his cock to my browneye. He pushed and grunted and stopped without getting it in. Fuck me hard I gasped. Push harder. Get the head inside me. Fuck my greasy arse I pleaded. 

I was defenceless there on the carpet in my apartment. And this young guy was going to get his cock inside my bowels. Even if I wanted to stop this I knew on some deep level inside my gut that I could not stop him now. He was too close to his goal of stuffing his oiled up rooter into me. I was about to be taken, used and abused by a nice young student who I had turned into a sex-crazed bugger of my pooper. He grunted and strained and clearly was failing to get the head of his cock to push through my tight sphincter despite all the oil I had spread over and in me. This gave me a dilemma. I could easily encourage his cock into my ever-ready pussy and have a lovely hard root. I might even cum again. It was a pleasant thought but only that. I can be a stubborn bitch and I wanted to have my arsehole reamed by his long tool. Why he was having so much trouble when his cock was quite skinny escaped me. Nerves probably my mother pondered in my head. Tell him how good his hard cock feels against your button she suggested to me. Boost his confidence; get him firing on all cylinders again. Make him hold the base of his tool tight and force that motherfucker into you. I heard my mother's hysterical laughter at her motherfucker reference. She had a point though and I quickly instructed him to do just that. 

Oh fuck I moaned. Nooo, I don't want you to do that I whimpered as I felt his cock slide past my last defence and enter my slicked anal cavity. I am such a mess of contradictions I thought. One minute I am pleading to be buggered and the next moment I am a coward pleading for him to not enjoy the tight delights of my backside. He made a final grunt as he got balls deep into me. No turning back I thought as I waited for him to fuck me. 

After enjoying the moment of conquest like he had arrived on top of Mount Everest and no doubt enjoying the view of me being pinned by his swollen cock in my arse, he started to spank my fleshy buttocks and at the same time to root my pooper. I let go and cried tears of pain and intense pleasure, blushing with shame and glowing with exhilaration at the same time. I pulled away from him in moments of shame but there was no escape with the sofa against me. Then I would sense his cock filling me and teasing my sphincter as it was stretched and tugged by his big red cock and I would push back hard to make a slapping noise as he slammed into my pliant flesh. He didn't seem to need to cum quickly having been well drained earlier and I realised I was in for a long session of fucking my arse raw. 

It began to hurt and I started to sob into the sofa cushions until he spat on his cock and fucked his spittle into my anus to ease my pain. I began to feel faint and almost blacked out I think as he relentlessly rooted me. His cock must be getting sore to I reasoned but it didn't slow him down. Then after an age his increased the force of his fuck and tried to get further up me, gripping my fat hips and grunting like a pig. He pulled back and thrust as hard and as far up me as he could as he released a long groan of pain and pleasure. He probably squirted a little cum into my arse but it wasn't much and I think his balls were aching from all the sex we had overnight. I was finally totally rooted, fucked, used, abused and destroyed to the point that I couldn't feel anything anymore. I was in a drifting dreamlike state as if I were outside my body, looking down on my shameless arse in the air with red spanked buttocks and shining with oil. He pulled out of me and I suddenly felt I had a void in me from where he had filled me. My arsehole kept twitching with little spasms and heightened the raw state of my rear end. I crawled up on the sofa and lay there watching him come to the sofa and attempt to kiss me again. I wouldn't let him and he kissed my forehead instead. I'm fucked I sighed and he gave a wry smile. He knew not to talk and soon he got up and walked out. I heard him dress and return to me. Shoo I whispered to him gently. See you around he replied and turned to walk out the door. 

And that was what my mind was obsessed with all day at lectures and at the café. Closing time arrived and I left work, conscious of the sexual tension that had returned to my body. Every muscle and sinew thrummed with sex, playing a tune that only I could hear. I couldn't bear it. I have to get relief. But how was the question I could not answer. I pulled out the nice gentleman's card that was given to me in the café wrapped up in a five dollar tip. I had nearly phoned him the other evening but then had chickened out. How silly of me to think he was anything to do with sex. He had merely said that he liked to help young people. I dialled his number.