Kidnapping

I come to with my hands tied and the roar of a car on a good-sized road. Trying to wipe the soft cloth from over my eyes I realize that my hands won't come up more than a few inches. I hear a low chuckle that freezes me- what in the hell is going on? I take stock quickly: hands tied beneath the seat, ankles tied to the corners of the seat, leaving my thighs spread a little, another rope around my chest, pinning me tight to the seat, and a blindfold over my eyes. The ropes aren't rough against my skin, but some discreet tugging shows that they won't come undone easily, either. I'm obviously in a car, and we're obviously moving based on the sound. I sniff a little, windows down but fresh air coming in. A hint of cologne. Maybe someone can see me like this through the window? I turn my attention to the driver, trying to find out what I can without vision. The cologne is obviously his. It's vaguely sweet and musky, and in other circumstances I'd probably like it. His voice is deep when he speaks, and a little familiar. "I bet you have some questions, darling. Let me answer them. First off, the windows are tinted so no one can see you. Even if they could, you'd just look like you were sleeping in the seat with that mask on. As for who I am, well I'm someone who knows you and knows what you want beneath that 'I'm in charge' bitch-mask you wear. And where we're going is home." His voice was so gentle on the word 'home' that I shuddered. I had to give him credit, he'd answered most of my main questions, but I'd be damned if I'd admit that.

"You forgot one," I told him, trying my damndest to sound nonchalant, despite the fact that I was terrified.

His voice was low and amused, incredibly sexy under other circumstances. I've always loved men who take control, damn me. "And what's that?"

"Why me?" I mean, I'm 5'5, 125lbs, with a 34D chest. I know what guys like about me, so I knew to some extent why me, but I wanted to hear him say it.

He laughed now. Glad one of us was finding this amusing. "Because I know you, I know what you crave, I know what you want." His hand was suddenly on my bare thigh and I gasped, trying to cringe away but of course I couldn't. His hand felt huge, and was warm in the cool car, inching its way up my thigh to my groin, only barely covered by the short shorts I habitually wore in summer.

"Oh God please don't," I couldn't stop myself from begging, but my only response was his fingers cupping my groin through the cotton, and I flushed to realize that I was wet and he could feel the heat of it.

His voice was almost conversational now, as he simply cupped my groin.

"You, little slut, have been wanting to be taken and used since you were a teenager. It's what you fantasize about, what you ache for," his fingers where working their way into the leg of my loose shorts, finding their way into my damp panties.

"It's what get you wet." With those words, his fingers found my slit, proving them right as I whimpered and tried to move away. His voice was completely calm as he slowly worked a finger inside of me even as I shook my head violently, small gasps of "No, no, no, no, please, no" working their way past my clenched teeth.

"Its what you've wanted for years." He was stroking that spot inside of me now, and my eyes rolled back inside of my head. Dammit, he was good at this. Most guys just shove 2 fingers in and pump away. I could have ignored that, could have clenched my teeth and stayed calm, but this slow, firm taking of my body I couldn't stop myself from reacting to.

"You're going home with me, little bitch, to be my playtoy." Another long, sure stroke inside of me, a second finger added only when I was ready- hell, ready to beg for it. My body was completely betraying me.

"You're going serve me and whoever I choose, however I choose." God his fingers were thick, and the motherfucker was right- this was what I fantasized about- being taken and kept, just used and played with, but it was only a fantasy!

"I'm going to fuck that lovely little body whenever I want, however I want." Slowly he started pumping his fingers in and out of me while I writhed and moaned. I was being kidnapped, most likely to be raped, how was my body doing this to me?

His voice came again, fingers still inexorably arousing me. "Stop feeling guilty for your body's reactions, little bitch. Your body was designed to respond to stimulation with or without your mind's permission, did you know some women orgasm during rape?" God, I wasn't far from it myself, a little pressure on my slit and I'd be screaming. "And then, of course, there's Stockholm Syndrome. Do you know what that is, little bitch?" I whimpered. Of course I knew, I was a Psychology major. Named after a famous hostage incident, it was the phenomenon of victims, usually women, falling in love with or otherwise showing loyalty to their captors.

"Yes, I knew you were a smart little bitch." His fingers were withdrawing now, and I breathed a sigh of relief, only to find them against my lips, sticky with my own arousal. I turned away desperately- while I normally liked the taste of myself, to suck his fingers clean was a voluntary act I couldn't bring myself to perform. "Now, bitch, or you're not going to like what I do to you." I whimpered and opened my mouth, just enough for him to press his fingers in but refusing to do more than that. I'd be damned if I'd cooperate in this... but oh God my arousal tasted good and being aroused always increased my oral fixation... His voice was harsher now. "Little bitch... do not piss me off this early on."

I shut my eyes tightly against the blindfold and obeyed. If he was willing to risk the consequences of kidnapping and raping me, surely hurting me was well within his power. Maybe if I pleased him enough he'd let me go? I knew it for nonsensical thinking even as I thought it, but there was a logic in cooperating to keep him happy and me hurt less. He didn't indicate having any plans to kill me, but I had read enough case studies to know that that didn't rule it out as a plan. For now, I could only assume that my safest option was to cooperate... and besides, if this had been consensual it would have been one hell of a lot of fun. A thin line, but a real one.

So I dutifully sucked his fingers clean, stroking them with my tongue, scraping very, very gently with my teeth and sucking hard enough to hollow out my cheeks. I could feel his pleased chuckle. "Very good, little bitch." I was shocked to feel a trickle of pleasure at his praise. Jesus, surely it wasn't happening already?

His fingers were slowly removed from my mouth, and I almost made a sound of disappointment before stopping myself. I felt them run along my lips, the gentle caress so many men never bothered with, then down my neck to the hollow of my throat. I had a moment to gasp as his hand wrapped tightly around my throat, making breathing difficult for a moment. It loosened almost immediately though, and I heard his voice again, "Just a reminder, little bitch," before his fingers stroked down my collarbone and started unbuttoning my shirt. I whimpered again, wanting to writhe away but unable to both from fear and the rope wound just beneath my breasts. It wasn't long before my thin bra was exposed, and his warm fingers soon found my erect nipples. I gasped as he pinched one lightly, just hard enough to draw a gasp to my throat and arch my back in pleasure. My head was shaking violently back and forth, but what I was denying wasn't what he was doing, but my pleasure in it. I don't know how long he spent toying with my sensitive nipples, but I was writhing and squirming and ready to beg him to go back to fingering me when he finally stopped. I whimpered in disappointment, then felt mortified that I'd done so.

He only laughed. "Such a good little bitch! You deserve a reward... I didn't think you'd be getting this until much later, but you've proved yourself even more of a little slut than I expected." I flushed, humiliated that I'd responded so readily to this rapist, despite knowing intellectually the reasons why. Suddenly I heard a buzzing sound and I gave a low moan. A vibrator. Oh God there was no way I'd be able to keep from cumming if he put that against my overheated skin. Sure enough, he did, working it into the top of my shorts this time so that my panties held the curved shape into place. I writhed and moaned, the vibrations right over my clit. Suddenly his hand was withdrawn, the vibe left in place and I felt his grip tight on the back of my neck. "You want to cum don't you slut?" I whimpered, trying to shake my head but his grip wouldn't met me. "I know that you do, and you're going to ask your Master's permission first, or I am going to hurt you like you've never been hurt before." I shook my head sharply, there was no way I was going to call this man "Master". Absolutely no way, but the orgasm was building so strongly and God I needed to cum and I didn't want him to hurt me.

The decision was made for me as a bump in the road pressed the vibe closer to my clit, and I screamed, "Please God please I'm going to cum!"

"Say it bitch- ask me"

I whimpered, but I was too close to care what I was saying or who it was to, "Please Master I need to cum."

His grip tightened on my neck and it was only has I started to cum that I realized that that had been part of my arousal. "Yes".

I convulsed against the ropes, the strongest orgasm I'd ever had wracking my body until I thought I might be able to tear the ropes just from my convulsions, the entire world nothing but bright white light, and the sensations of his hand on my neck and the vibe at my clit. I convulsed for what felt like forever, slowly collapsing back into the seat as small shuddering aftershocks hit me.

His voice was warm now, and amused. "Well now, little bitch, we're almost home now."

I closed my eyes behind the blindfold, certain I'd need my strength.

To be continued....