6 comments/ 96950 views/ 21 favorites Liz's Abduction: A Love Story By: Seattle Zack Liz's Abduction: A Love Story After she finished he pulled the chair from the wall, and sat on it. "Do you smoke?" he asked, holding out a pack of cigarettes. She shook her head. Flipping open a lighter, he lit his cigarette. The smoke curled in the air. He got a small ashtray out of the bag, then stood and reached above his head, moving a lever by a vent on the wall. A rush of air filled the room. The cabin had air conditioning, she realized; there had been no reason to keep her sweltering in this closed room for hours, unless it was for her captors' amusement. Perhaps they thought it would help break her resistance. The cool air felt good on her body and she let the blanket slip down even further. One booted foot across his knee, smoking, he looked at her. Unable to meet his gaze, she looked down quickly at the floor. She must, somehow, try to control the situation. "Are you hungry?" he asked. She nodded. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and opened it; the blade must have been more than six inches long. The fear hammered through her. He reached into the bag and brought out a green apple, which he began to cut into pieces. The crisp sound of the blade through the apple made her mouth water, but the bright movement of the knife caused her stomach to churn. She imagined what a blade like that could do to her body. He looked at her, then pointed to the floor beside the bed. "Kneel, here." His voice was hard, commanding. Liz, her back pressed against the wall, pulled the blanket up around her neck. She shook her head. "Could I please just have some food?" Unbidden, a tear ran down her face Jack said nothing, just continued to point at the floor beside the bed. The line of his jaw was firm. She should do what he wanted, she thought, and try to be pleasing. Holding the blanket, she moved towards the edge of the bed. "No, leave the blanket." She hesitated for a moment, then dropped the blanket from around her shoulders and scrambled naked, a little awkwardly, onto the floor. The chain rattled behind her. She was right next to him. Kneeling with her legs pressed tightly together, one arm across her breasts, she looked up at him. He held the piece of apple out to her with his right hand and she reached for it. "No hands," he said firmly. "You can't do this!" she cried. "You can't treat me like some sort of … animal!" He said nothing, just continued to gaze down at her. Liz looked away, defiant. He held the piece of fruit before her, the crisp juicy segment. Her stomach growled. Smelling the sweetness, she licked her lips involuntarily. Her gaze was drawn back to it. Shuddering, she lowered her hands across her body and opened her mouth, delicately extending her neck. He placed the slice of apple in her mouth and she ate it, quickly. She kept her hands down, covering herself as best she could. It tasted incredibly good. With her mouth full she looked up at him, into his fierce blue eyes, then lowered her head. She squirmed a little, naked on her knees in front of him, then swallowed and extended her head, opening her mouth again. He stubbed out his cigarette. "Hands on your thighs," he commanded. "Knees spread." With her palms on her thighs Liz looked down at her body. The chill from the air conditioning had stiffened her nipples, and she felt a tingle between her legs. Her knees hurt, pressed into the uneven wooden floor. She moved her legs apart about six inches then looked up at him. "Wider." His tone would not allow any argument, any resistance. Reddening, she moved her knees further apart still. Yet he did not offer another piece of the fruit. She wanted to say something, then thought better of it. Looking down, she opened her knees further, as wide as they would go. The chain from her ankle made a noise as it was pulled taut. The air was cool against the moist, intimate areas of her body. Slice by slice, kneeling beside him, hands on her thighs, she ate the entire apple. She eagerly devoured it. It was humiliating, to be fed like a little pet, but she needed it. Her body craved food. Next he fed her two pieces of chicken, tearing them apart with his fingers and dropping the bones back into the bag. She couldn't recall a better meal than the roasted meat he fed her, piece by piece. Again and again he placed the food in her mouth and she chewed it, head down, not looking up at him. He did not speak for the entire time, and she did not break position. The importance of what he had done was not lost on her: she was completely dependent on him, even for food and water. Ashamed at how her body had responded while she was being fed, she wondered if he could smell her. Squirming a little from her arousal, she knelt back on her heels, keeping her hands on her thighs. It was a very submissive placement, kneeling uncomfortably on the floor before him, while he sat easily in the chair. Her naked body was spread and displayed before him in an elegant and beautiful position. Liz forced herself to look back up at him. He could see how vulnerable she was. Surely he would want to help her, want to gain her favor. He was, after all, a man. "Please," she said, "please help me. You can do anything you want to me, please just unchain me, just help me escape." Instantly his blue eyes turned cold. He stood up and kicked the chair to the side of the room. She flinched at the sudden violence. He crouched down and grabbed her by the hair. Fist clenched, he bent her back, slowly, until her body was painfully arched before him. With his lips to her ear, he whispered, "You little bitch. Trying to bargain with me? What have you got? You've got nothing." Her legs were still bent, trapped underneath her. Even with both hands on his wrist, she could not dislodge his fierce grip in her hair. She struggled and cried out, trying to twist away from his grasp but she was pinned in position. With his other hand, he began to caress her, exploring the area between her spread legs. His touch was deft and sure. Closing her eyes, she gasped as he continued to arouse her until her entire body quivered. She felt so naked, so displayed, so exposed! Her small form bucked and thrashed underneath his touch. "You see? I can do anything I want to you. Scream all you want, little bitch. I own you now." He ran his hand up the side of her body, almost tenderly. She was arched provocatively, painfully, in front of him. "Oh, oh," she gasped as he gently stroked first one breast, and then the other. Her body lifted to him and she cried out in shame. Jack chuckled. "What a little slut you are," he chided. Finally releasing her hair, he grabbed her hips and flipped her over to her stomach. His hand pressed between her shoulder blades, pinning her down as she squirmed, her breasts and belly against the unfinished planks. With his other hand he grabbed her unchained left ankle. His grip was like a vise. Slowly he bent and extended her leg several times, admiring the curve of her calf, the suppleness of her lovely hamstrings, the tautness along her tanned thigh. He bent over and began to kiss and lick at her instep, her ankle, the side of her foot. Liz tried to kick free but couldn't. She cried out again and pounded her small fists on the floor. "Oh, please don't," she sobbed in frustration. Yet his touch, and his mastery of her, was having its effect. She was unable to help herself. Roughly, he pressed her thighs apart and began to explore the moist, intimate area between her legs. Liz had tears running down her face. She turned her head to one side and then the other. The splintery wood against her body excited her, as did his teasing and stimulation. Involuntarily, she lifted her hips, spreading her legs even further. She heard him laugh. Abruptly he released her, and stood up. She turned to her side, up on one elbow. With his boot he pressed her to her back, spurning her. "I think I've had enough fun for the night." He smiled. "See you in the morning, blondie." With that he turned and left the room, picking up the bag on the floor as he went. The room was plunged into darkness and Liz heard the door being locked. She lay on her back, gasping for breath. She was shattered. Never had she experienced anything like that. It was so powerful, so primal! She shuddered. Feeling the metal bed frame behind her, she climbed back up on the bed and pulled the blanket around her. She lay on her side, knees drawn up, crying, and waited. Liz's Abduction: A Love Story As he used her ruthlessly she screamed out, thrashing and jerking underneath him, starbursts of pleasure exploding in the back of her head. With each successive climax she became wilder, clawing at his back, bucking her hips up to meet him. Her submission to him was fierce, primal, savage. She knew that begging for mercy was useless. He intended to wring every last ounce of sensation from his responsive, beautiful captive female. She would be granted no leniency. Again and again, incoherent with need and desire, she responded to him, helplessly. She was near unconsciousness when he finally shuddered and groaned with the pleasure of his own release. After he finished he got up off the bed. She heard the sound of his belt buckle as he pulled his pants up. Covered with sweat, every muscle aching, her lips felt numb and she doubted if she could even talk. Weakly she moved her hands beside her, feeling the cotton surface of the mattress. Liz was devastated. She felt like she had been completely destroyed. Her whole life seemed meaningless, trivial, when compared to the intensity of the sexual release she had just experienced. Tiny, random muscles twitched up and down the length of her trembling body. The degraded, gasping, well-used little slave girl chained to the bed had little in common with the proud career woman that had moved to Seattle from Boston. Nothing could have prepared her for the depths of her needs and desires, the completeness of her surrender. She wanted to crawl to him, on her belly, kissing and licking his boots, begging to please him again. In the darkness, Liz heard the sound of the door closing as he left the room. She turned to her side, eyes closed, weeping softly in the stifling heat. He had just left her there, disregarded, after he had finished using her. More than an hour later he returned, again carrying a candle. "Oh!" Liz cried in fear as he entered the room, turning her head away. "Your mask!" His face was uncovered, and she had caught a glimpse of his features. She was terrified. These men would probably kill her if she could identify them. She heard the scrape of the chair as he sat down. Her heart pounded wildly as she kept her face to the wall. Perhaps this was it. Perhaps he had come to kill her. "Don't worry, Liz." It was the first time he had called her by name. "I'm not going to hurt you. The ransom's been paid. I'm going to let you go." Slowly she turned and looked at him. He was actually very handsome, with long dark hair and a cruel cast to his features. She trembled and lowered her gaze. "Why are you letting me see you?" she whispered. "Because this is my last job. We're done. When we leave, I'm going to set fire to the cabin. We've been here too long. The boys will get other jobs, of course, but I'm finished. I've got enough money now to live comfortably for the rest of my life. By the time you could describe me to the police or the FBI, I'll be in another country. Somewhere warm. I've got over ten million bucks in three different overseas accounts, and I think it's time to retire." He smiled. "Even so, I think you'll find the insurance company will … discourage you, shall we say, from going to the police. Of course, they'll have counselors and doctors to help you through your traumatic experience. I'm sure that the bank will be very understanding. But, on the whole, their business works better if there's no involvement from law enforcement." Liz cried quietly, head down, unable to think clearly. Her whole life had been turned upside down in just three days. It was impossible to imagine going back to the bank, not after an experience like this. She thought about her empty apartment, the men she had been dating. It all seemed so stupid, and useless. How could she explain this to anyone? How could she explain it to herself? Knowing what she had to do, she wiped her eyes and drew a deep breath. Liz got on her knees on the bed, her legs spread widely. She straightened, pressing her shoulders back, placing her palms on her thighs. "Please," she whispered, "please take me with you." "I don't think so." He shook his head and stood up. "That's the last thing I need. You go back to your life in Seattle, to your job. It's better that way." "I can't! After what you've done to me? I can't! I don't want that! All I want is to be with you." "I don't need a girlfriend," he said, looking down at her. "Then take me as your slave!" She lifted her arms to him, wrists crossed as though bound. "Please. You made me submit to you. I know now that what you said was true, I am a natural slave. I'll be obedient. I'll do anything you want. You can whip me, or punish me, I don't care, do anything you want to me. I need this. You can't even understand how much I need this. I need you!" He bent towards her and tenderly placed his hand against the side of her face. She turned her head, licking at his palm, kissing his fingers. Her body shook. "I don't think you realize what you're saying," he said, not unkindly. "It would be a complete and total slavery. There would be no compromise, no limits. You would belong to me, in every sense of the word." "I know," she sobbed, "that's what I want. That's what I need! Please …Master." He straightened up. "No," he said, after a moment, "it's not practical. I'm going to let you go, just as I planned. About six hours from now, you'll wake up in a motel room. There will be a number for you to call. You can resume your life." As she remained kneeling on the bed, he left the room. She felt empty, and cold. He returned with a small bottle, a rag, and a pair of handcuffs. "Turn around, facing the wall, and cross your wrists at the small of your back." Liz did as she had been commanded. The cuffs were cold against her skin as he locked them on her. "It's best if you don't struggle too much," he said, holding her tightly from behind. "Just breathe deeply." She smelled the medicinal, overwhelming fumes as the rag was pressed against her nose and mouth. It was impossible not to squirm with revulsion but he held her firmly, knowing that she would have to breathe. Finally, gasping and choking, she inhaled. Her body relaxed in his grasp, and she felt herself going limp. With his arms tight across her body, holding her, she lost consciousness. Liz awoke, naked, with her hands still restrained behind her. She felt movement; she realized she was in a vehicle, with a blanket over her. Struggling, she managed to throw the blanket from her head. She was in a large sedan, down in the passenger footwell, and she looked up at the driver. It was Jack, of course, smoking as he drove, the window open to the night air beside him. Although he must have heard her, he didn't look in her direction. Awkwardly, she clambered up onto the seat. "Where are we?" she asked, kneeling on the seat beside him, looking around. There was no one else in the car. The highway they were travelling was deserted. He continued to watch the road. "Just crossed into Nevada. Couple hundred miles from Reno." She pulled at the metal handcuffs holding her wrists. "You're not leaving me in Seattle?" she asked. He turned and looked at her. Her naked body was briefly illuminated in the flashes of light from the road. "No, I changed my mind. I decided to keep you around for awhile." Liz almost squealed with the excitement she felt. "Thank you! Thank you, Master!" She began kissing his neck and the side of his face. Roughly he pushed her away. "Don't distract me, I'm driving," he growled. He took a drag of his cigarette. "You know, you'll be in as much trouble as me now, if we get caught. No one will believe you weren't in on it. You can't go back. Ever." Liz knew that what he said was true; she was completely dependent on him. Another thrill of happiness coursed through her. She knelt back on the seat, looking at him. "I'm hungry," she announced. "I knew this was a mistake," he grumbled. With a wicked grin, Liz knelt forward. Using her mouth and tongue, she managed to unbuckle his belt. Awkwardly, her hands still chained behind her, she unzipped his pants with her teeth. The sky lightened with the first hint of sunrise as she took him in her mouth. The car sped south through the desert.