Abducted Ch. 08-09byHarleyFatboy1©
Chapter 8: Testosterone
My nerves are still jangled. I feel my heart pumping, my teeth grinding, my muscles tensing. I'm still on edge, and it's already over!
Elizabeth sits against the wall of the van, shivering under the blanket we bundled her in. She pulls herself into a near-fetal position, and ... then, she has the audacity to speak!
I shut her off with a swift, sharp backhand to her cheek.
Then, I give her another. >>Whaa-aak<<
I yank a length of rope off of the floor, practically out from under her. "Turn around! Lay your ass down on the floor! Face first! Do it, now!"
I fling her to the floor! Roughly I yank her hands behind her, and begin tying and knotting in a blur!
I know what it is. It's my testosterone rising. Fight or flight. Those bangers back there almost cost me a half-million dollars. She almost cost me a half-million dollars! "All you had to do was give us the damn password! You'd be home by now! ... god dammit, Chano, slow the fuck down! You want to get us killed now?"
I don't really give a damn about testosterone, and I don't give a shit about Elizabeth crying at the bottom of the van. I don't even care if we have an accident, and the whole thing ends right now! This was supposed to be an easy, non-violent, simple operation. I almost became a damn gang-land statistic ... because of her.
I Smaaa-ck! her ass, through the blanket. Even then, I know it stings. I put my all behind another big Smaack!ack!
I throw my leg across her body and pull her arms back good and tight, while I finish binding her. I can feel her, racking with sobs, and still wriggling helplessly.
Hell, I bet she can feel me, now, even through the blanket. I know, maybe, intellectually, that she had to take the chance. I don't even give a damn about that.
I'm still caught in the moment. I still feel the blood surging to my face. It's the testosterone, I know. A few moments ago, it was fight-or-flight, no way around it, and somehow, ... we got out of there having to do either. I was primed for it, and I didn't really release.
It's all her fault.
I rip the blanket off of her, off of her sweet, teardrop ass barely clad in those tiny, damp blue panties, now, to begin tying her ankles. "This will make sure that you never run away from me, again!," I hiss. Winding the rope, watching her struggle weakly, and bounce those pretty panties around while we're being bounced around in the van.
"God-dang it, ain't we there, yet, Chano?!"
"Cerca, Patron ... cerca! Calmase, por favor!"
Well, it was kinda Chano's fault, too, but I don't care. I just got out of a dangerous situation, and now ... now, I want to hunt something, fuck something, or kill something.
Not necessarily in that order.
I knot Elizabeth's ankles, and grab a final length of rope. "Open wide!" I barely wait for her to comply, before I force the rope between her teeth! No soft mouth-packing this time. I won't waste the effort! She gets just as cruel a rope-gag as I can think of, right now. I wind it ... around, and around, and around again, until I have at least 4 strands of brown rope between her teeth, pulled tight! I begin to tie the final knots.
I lay on her, grinding my fat cock against her bare thighs, now, not even bothering to do the 'gentlemanly' thing, and cover her back up. Because, as soon as I feel my dick against her bum, I'm horny as hell again!
I grasp a handful of her hair, and pull back. I hiss slowly, menacingly into her ear: "Do not ever ... I mean, ever, pull a stunt like that on me again! Do you hear me? Do you understand me!?
"You are never to run away from us, again, ... not for as long as you live!!"
Way off in the distance I hear a familiar voice telling my molesters to "back off ".
I feel myself being scooped up and slung over a large shoulder as a man's hand grabs my nylon-covered bottom to keep me balanced high off of the ground.
The familiar voice sends a very pleasant sensation through my body and I feel my nipples coming to attention despite the fact that I am barely conscious.
I am placed into a large van and pass out.
Chapter 9 -- Reprieved?
I got her attention. I got her attention so much that she passed out.
I wanted to wake her up, so that I could hunt her, fuck her, and kill her, ... not necessarily in that order.
"Patron, por favor, ... calmase!"
It was obvious. I had become so obviously upset that Chano noticed. He was beginning to pay more attention to me than to the driving, which was not a good thing.
Some part of my conscious brain did find a way to assert itself, and I took a deep breath. "I'm okay, compa," I assured him. Then, I sit back against the wall, so that he would really be assured. I relax only when he stops glancing into the mirror every other second.
We arrive back at the dockside warehouse, without incident.
It's almost four o'clock. Time is getting short.
I carry Elizabeth inside. Only then do I begin to calm down, and to think. Rather, I should say, my thinking begins to pursue a more normal, perverted path, for me.
I throw the limp beauty over my shoulder. I adjust her weight for balance. I lock her legs in one arm, using my free hand to hold her in place.
To hold her sweet, teardrop ass in place, that is. It isn't long before my hands began to roam along those tender, bare thighs.
Up, slowly, and down, ... and slowly back up, toward her soaked blue panties. Up, to where my fingers, eager probing fingers, can trace the edges of her panties, and thrust briefly between her upper thighs.
I warm her ass beneath the palm of my hand. Alternately, I squeeze her cheeks, ... and, then give her a short, sharp slaaaaap on her ass! Then, I smooth my hand over her panties, and massage her as if I were rubbing in a creamy lotion on her creamy skin.
I caress the back of her legs, down toward her bound knees ... just so that I can make my way back up her thighs, to her pretty little blue panties, again.
The sight of Harris working feverishly over his bank of computer monitors brings my mind back to business. Elizabeth is still worth at least six figures to me -- but, only if she talks!
I don't want to disturb Harris. "Chano, help me string her up, here."
I cut the bonds around her wrists, and pull her arms apart. Chano attaches each wrist to a length of rope, and throws the loose ends up to the catwalk above. He goes up, and ties the loose ends to the railing, while I hold her up.
"Pull it tighter, Chano. I want her on her tiptoes." I whisper to a now semi-conscious, near-naked hostage: "Perhaps you will respond to a more 'traditional' form of torture, my dear. Surely, it should not have come to this, but ... you leave me no choice."
When she is tied properly, with her arms bound together and stretched tight above her head, I fetch a bucket of nice, cold water.
Elizabeth gets doused with a full dose!
A bucket of cold water hits the entire front side of my body as I am rudely brought back to reality.
I find myself strung up by my wrists to a rope holding me upright with my toes just barely touching the floor.
School, Mr. Brute, and Harry Potter are all staring at me with the same look that I remember when my dress was working its way up my thighs.
Both of my erect nipples have drops of water seductively hanging from them and my light blue panties have essentially become transparent as a result of my recent shower.
And to make matters worse, my entire body is vibrating in a most delectable manner as the feeling of being a deliciously ripe piece of fruit hanging in front of three starving men overtakes me.
I am again a captive and couldn't be more pleased.
I have never felt so exposed, vulnerable, or as sexy as I feel right now hanging almost naked in front of these three leering men.
School comes up behind me and slaps my wet bottom sending a fine spray of water into the air.
The vibrations inside of me intensify.
"Welcome back, hon. Now, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted us," I hissed, "we want your passwords. Period. That's it.
"We want them now."
Elizabeth shivers, visibly, at the dousing. Her little buds, which had been so hard because of her 'exciting' adventure before, were hardening now because of the cold. Or was it, because of the fear?
For the first time, I see something in her eyes that I haven't seen before, that I have -- perhaps secretly -- wanted: Pure terror. It was no longer a game or a 'toy' to her. Now, she was truly afraid of me.
She tries to spit, through the rope pulled so tightly between her teeth. All she manages is a sloppy drool. And, weakly, she shakes her head.
I check my watch.
"We've got exactly one hour fifty minutes before we leave here, sweetness. That means you've got exactly one hour and forty-nine minutes to tell us the passwords."
I walk, menacingly, slowly, around her. Her eyes try to follow me, then she tries to twist in her ropes. But, she grimaces, groaning beneath her gag. With the ropes biting into her wrists, she is reminded of how tightly strung up she is.
I stop in front of her, and make sure her eyes are focused solely on me. I reach into my jacket pocket, and pull out two black leather gloves. I take my time pulling them on, one at a time. I flex my fingers. I ball my fists, until we can both hear my knuckles crack. I tighten my gloves, again, and crack my knuckles inches from her face.
Her eyes dart from me, to my balled fists, and back to me again.
I step forward, and reach for her pretty, gagged face. She flinches ... but I merely stroke her cheek. Gently.
This time, she shudders at my touch.
"You have a very pretty, very delicate face, my dear. Anyone ever told you that? I bet you have a smile that would light up a room, don't you?"
Elizabeth swallows hard. A tear begins to roll down her cheek.
I withdraw my hand. I plant my feet, and roll my shoulders, ready to begin throwing my punches.
"Before we begin, Elizabeth, ... you get one last chance. And, before you shake your head, again, you need to take this into consideration:
"By six o'clock, we -- me, Chano, and Harris -- we're all going to be out of here. Where you're going to be is going to be up to you. In two hours, do you want to be safe, at home? Or ... do you want to be left back in that alley -- all tied up, and gagged, and naked, after dark? It's your choice."
Elizabeth shakes her head, violently. She pleads with her eyes. She starts to rack with sobs, and she begins weeping openly. But, still, she doesn't say anything.
Even through that gag, she should have said something.
I would have stopped. I would have listened to what she had to say. She could have made us rich. Maybe, she could have gotten herself released, relatively unharmed.
As I reach back to deliver the first blow, I watch Elizabeth brace for it, as best she can. Swinging in the cold air of the warehouse. Twisting her ropes, trying to turn her body.
I thought of how brave she was. Foolish, yes, ... but, brave, too.
"I have something I think you should see."
Harris whispers in my ear. I keep cold, hard, dangerous eyes, on Elizabeth.
Then, I follow Harris to his station, and his bank of computers.
I'll always remember, it was 4:15 PM, when he told me.
I take a deep sigh when he finishes showing me what he has. "Go confirm it," I say. "Whisper it to her."
For the first time, Harris approaches her. He oh-so-shyly nears Elizabeth, who looks at him with curiosity, and swallows. Harris reaches for her, and she tries to pull away. He assures her that he won't hurt her, but then, ... slyly, I thought, and well played, ... he glances conspicuously over his shoulder, at me.
I flex my hands, and crack my knuckles.
Elizabeth swallows again.
Then, Harris whispers to her.
Her eyes widen. She seems to slump from her wrists, tied above her.
We've got it. We know we've got it, now.
We have her bank transfer authorization password.
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