Abducted for Profit

"Fine, fine...you had your laugh" Mara shook her head, trying to hold her serious tone, but failing. "I've only got one brain, you know..." she said, turning Caitlin on her stomach. She wrapped the tape meticulously around her palms, then her fingers, before fusing both hands together in a tape mitten of sorts. The top of the washing machine had been tampered to open easily, like a lid.

Caitlin then felt multiple arms grab and lift her off the floor. She was forced into a sort of ball, her knees almost touching her face. She was placed inside a metal box. Caitlin could not tell what that was, but she quickly felt her movement was obstructed by the box's walls. As long as she was inside, she would stay folded like that. She then felt a flat frame, press her head down by a couple of inches, until it snapped shut above her with two hollow clicks.

She quickly felt whatever package she was inside, moving, being wheeled. The woman was arguably terrified. Who knew if anyone could find her, wherever these crazy women were taking her. Maybe this was her last chance of alerting somebody to help! She tried screaming, once more, although with that gag, the plan was doomed. Nonetheless, she gave it her all. Trying to bump against the metal walls would make at least some noise. But her efforts had been rendered useless, not only from the lack of any leverage, due to the absence of free space around her, but also from the thick, soundproofing padding, that was lined all across the inside.

An elder man, walking with his dog along the sidewalk, spots three women, each more beautiful than the next. They appear to be wheeling a washing machine, through the small tiled-trail, connecting a front door to the sidewalk.

"Good morning" he says with a genuine smile, as their paths cross. "How can three beautiful ladies as yourselves, move this heavy thing? I would offer my help, but you see i'm old, and my arms don't work like they used to" he said, praising both their beauty and their strength.

"Aaaaaw, thank you mister" Helena replied with a voice so sweet, it was dripping honey. "Thank you so much, we are handling it just fine" Raleen shot the man a smile and a wink. "Farewell" the man continued his course, even more cheerful than before. Why wouldn't he be? A young, beautiful girl had winked at him. At this age, this was enough to make his day.

All this trouble took place for just a 20 yard distance, from Caitlin's front door to the van. They were the most risky 20 yards, though, so there was no room for cutting corners. The washer was loaded into the van from the back door. Helena and Raleen hoped in, Mara went to the driver's seat. The doors closed, and the van took off, under the sunrays.

Inside the van, Helena and Raleen removed the machine's lid, and pulled the helpless girl out. The back was basically empty, besides a mattress tossed on one corner, with a sheet and a pillow on it. There was also a row of metal rings on the wall of the van. Raleen took a carabineer from inside her backpack. The carabineer was already attached on the end of a thick line of hemp rope, and on the other end, was a black, leather collar. Helena snapped the carabineer on one of the rings, and placed the collar around the sightless girl's neck, buckling the strap at a secure hole.

The road trip would be moderately long, at least a three hour ride. With another job well done, the girls took the next hour to relax, chat and generally pass the time. Caitlin remained tethered to her post throughout this. Every 20 minutes or so, she'd throw a small tantrum, crying and pleading, interspersed with more testing of the tape's durability, around her arms and legs. The girls didn't even shift their eyes at her, or paused their conversation during these attempts.

Only once, did the girl caught their attention, when she started stomping the floor with her heels. A good kick on her ribs by Helena reminded her who was in charge. The Russian doll hated having her peace disturbed.

Eventually, Helena and Raleen got bored. With Mara on the wheel, listening to her favorite podcast on her ear buds, the girls approached their latest victim. Helena reached on Caitlin's face. She flinched, trying to avoid her. From her recent experience, any contact from these people meant bad things. "Tch, tch, stand still" Helena yelled, and pulled the tape that was covering the girl's eyes. Caitlin looked at them, expressing nothing but fear. We were past the "rage-and-hate stage" at this point. "They really make these mascaras immune to anything..." Helena commented. Despite all the tears and the sweat from all the fighting, her makeup still looked semi-intact.

"I really like her hair. I just don't know if i can pull off that trendy-punk chick look" Raleen confessed to her friend, as she softly brushed the girl's hair with the outside of her palm. "Yeah...most slave owners don't usually keep the slave's hair as they find it, though. They either change it or shave it off completely" Helena pointed out.

A key word in their discussion caused Caitlin's eyes to widen. "Slave?...slave owner?" she shifted her eyes between the two women, as if waiting for a confirmation that they, were in fact, talking about her future. "No...not you, sweetie" Raleen caressed her cheek. "You are gonna go to a nice farm, to play with all the other kidnapped girls" Raleen rubbed salt into the distressed girl's wound.

"Hmmmf" Caitlin could only look at them with pitiful, puppy eyes. Even if she was allowed to speak, what would she offer them for her freedom? Money? She didn't have much of that. Sexual favors? How far would that get her? She could see no bargaining chips at her disposal.

"I've been looking everywhere to get these Gucci's!" Helena exclaimed, pointing at the bound girl's black, 4-inch heels. The only reason they had not been hurled off the girl's flailing, kicking feet, at any point, was because they featured some neatly buckled, ankle straps. "I was looking for them in another color, but that's nice, too" Helena blurted out, Raleen just waiting for her friend to finish these stream-of-consciousness rants she sometimes drifted to. "I prefer what's in them" said Raleen with meaning, unbuckling the shoes' straps, before pulling the heels off the girl's feet. Caitlin looked at what was taking place, worried and puzzled.

"Did you know that, if you want to torture someone without any evidence, you should torture their feet? They practically leave no marks. I heard it in a porn video, once" said Raleen, with the conviction of a Ted-Talk speaker. "Biiitch, you are a weird" Mara was heard from the driver's seat. "Here, watch" the Iranian beauty said, grabbing one of Caitlin's shoes by the front part, and digging the pointy end of the heel into her sole.

"MmmmggPLLLLLLLHHHH" Caitlin tried to implore the women. The pain was intense from the very start. She tried pulling her taped feet away from the assailant, but Raleen was quickly kneeling on her upper shins, putting to rest any attempts at resisting her fate. With Helena already trying on Caitlin's heels, Raleen experimented, poking the girl's feet at her heels, the balls of her feet, then pricking her big toes. She worked the entire length of her soles. In the end, Caitlin was breathing heavily through her nose, trying to deal with all this pain.

"See, not a glimpse of a mark!" Raleen showed her friend, who looked unconvinced. "Maybe you're not pressing it hard enough" Helena hypothesized. She took a hold of the second spare shoe, and scooted closer to Caitlin, who was now looking more and more desperate with each passing second. "Hold her still" blondie said to Raleen. She hated squirming.

The muffled squeal the poor girl uttered, as Helena drove the thin heel right into the middle of her sole, was probably loud enough to be heard from cars passing by the van. But with all the highway noise of the speeding vehicles, no one registered anything out of the ordinary. Helena had pressed the pointy object with all her strength. "Hmmm" the girl observed Caitlin's bare soles. The outline of a heel mark disappeared almost as soon as she removed the shoe. "I guess you're right" she relented her efforts.

Half an hour later, the ride had gotten much quieter. Mara was deep in driver mode. Helena was out cold, napping on the mattress. She was happy to find out that she wore the same shoe size as Caitlin, and had already stashed her new heels in her backpack. Raleen was bored, sitting on the passenger seat. She turned her head to take a pick at the only unwilling passenger, who was too exhausted to put up any fight. Caitlin's eyes had a vacant, tired look in them, currently fixed at nothing in particular. Her chest was moving up and down with each labored breath her nose took. Despite the stretchy nature of the ball-gag, her jaw was sore. Her arms and legs, pinned together in pairs for quite some time now, were also desperate for some freedom.

The bound girl's eyes perked up when she spotted the Indian girl get off her seat, at move towards her. "Do you want some company, single-girl?" she had already forgotten what her actual name was. Caitlin reluctantly shook her head, but Raleen didn't bother with things like consent. "Well, i'm bored, so you'll keep me company for a while" she said, sitting against the van's wall, right beside her bound merchandise. Caitlin kept eyeing her, worried, while Raleen had a soft, kind smile on her face.

"You really dressed up for that date of yours...showed a lot of skin if you ask me..." she teased, her eyes tracing all across of Caitlin's curves and valleys. The woman could almost feel Raleen's eyes burn like lasers. "Must have been a handsome guy...or maybe it was a girl, and you wrote a man's name for cover" she said, placing her hand on the girl waist. Caitlin breathed deeper, seeing the hand trace her green dress up, and up, until it reached her breasts. Raleen copped a generous feel, grabbing a handful of her left breast. "Mmmm, nice" she said, enjoying the woman's body, the more she "inspected." Caitlin turned her torso away from the harassment, but a slight tilt wasn't stopping Raleen now. She wanted her, and she wanted her now.

The Indian beauty parted the V of her cleavage aside, along with the fabric on the dress' shoulders. Without any bra to cover them, Caitlin's breasts were now fully exposed. Raleen gave them a gentle squeeze, feeling her delicate skin.

This was getting out of hand! Caitlin tried to slide away from the horny woman, but Raleen simply grabbed the leash of her collar, keeping her in place, while also bending over the side of her neck. She started nibbling on the sensitive flesh, kissing it, biting every now and then. "Hmmmmmfff" Caitlin was definitely not into this!

Raleen then took out a switchblade, from her jeans' pocket. With a petrified, mewing Caitlin watching, she made a few cuts, along the width of the tape that bind the girl's ankles, knees and thighs. Caitlin's legs were free, but at what cost?

"Pllllffff" she begged her assailant not to take this any further. She already felt violated and humiliated enough. In response, Raleen gave her nipple a strong pinch between her fingers. "MMMmmmmmnnn" the girl's moans did not seem to be alarming anyone on the vehicle. Mara had her headphones on, listening to music, while Helena wouldn't wake up by a marching band circling her bed. Not that them noticing her distress would alter things.

Raleen was properly hot and bothered now. She was sucking, biting, kissing the woman's nipples, sucking on her neck. Her dress had been raised out of the way of "single-girl's" fine ass, so Miss India could grope and dig her nails into it as much as she pleased. Caitlin flailed her legs with newfound movement, but with her arms heavily restrained behind her back, she still could not defend herself fairly. Biting her captor was also out of the question, with this thick gag. Shifting her body away was impossible, tethered as she was to the wall-ring.

Raleen was enjoying her loot, laying sideways to her. Body against body. The intimate contact escalated, as did Caitlin's muffled protests. Raleen's hand moved lower, and her fingers crept their way beneath Caitlin's pink, Brazilian-style panties. The woman felt a cute, trimmed little bush, through her finger-tips, which quickly moved past it, continuing their descent to the woman's sex.

"NNN..Nnnnn...NnnnnNNNN" the gagged woman was doing her best to avoid the invasion, but Raleen wanted her fingers in the woman's pussy.

The situation was getting increasingly more hectic. A truly uneven fight was taking place. Raleen retrieved the exploring hand momentarily, forgetting to soak her middle and ring finger with a quick dip into her own mouth, then with moist fingers, placed them back where they belonged. Inside her toy's sex-hole.

"NNNNNnnmmm...." Caitlin felt the violent insertion. She tried closing her legs together, hopefully to make the woman's job more difficult. Raleen placed one of Caitlin's legs in a kind of scissor hold with her legs, keeping her more exposed like that. She fingered the woman at a medium, passionate - even sensual? - speed, keeping Caitlin's body close to hers with the other free hand. It was clear this wasn't Raleen's first encounter with someone from the same gender. She was pushing her hand upwards and against the pelvis, while also rubbing her fingers on the G-spot area. She knew what she was doing.

Caitlin didn't know when that point in time had come and passed, but there was one. A point where the mixture of sexual stimulation and physical struggle was too much to withstand. She could not fight it anymore. Did that mean she had "gave in" to the pleasure? Did that mean that she enjoyed what was taking place? This complete violation, this degradation of her human will and integrity?

These questions were too complicated for a simple yes or no, answer. What was visibly certain was, that at some point, the woman reduced her fighting greatly. Her eyes were closed with intensity, her legs remained half-spread, as if communicating to her assailant "you have won, you can do as you wish." Raleen seemed pleased with that message. She now had her arm wrapped around the girl's neck, her hand holding her jaw-line, keeping the girl's face right against hers. Raleen had a look of pleasure on her face, her mouth stuck half-open. It didn't look like a violent grab; you could even call it romantic, if you didn't know the circumstances.

The Indian woman started finger-fucking the Irish girl, slapping the outside of her pussy with her palm, while driving her two fingers deep with each thrust. Caitlin let out one of many moans before it, although this one sounded like pure, shameful lust. Raleen finger-blasted her faster and faster, watching her writhe in her arms. The little bitch must be enjoying something, she thought. Abruptly, she pulled her fingers out, seizing any stimulation. "Maybe you're lonely for too long, single-girl" she said, showing her a pair of drenched fingers. She wiped her hand from what was mainly pussy juice on the woman's green dress, and cheerfully returned to her seat beside Mara. "Can we make a coffee stop? I'm exhausted" she asked her black friend.

The sun was starting to set, when the white van reached a remote location, seemingly sprouting out of nowhere, in the middle of a rural area. Two sunglasses-wearing, suit-and-tie dressed, black men, were waiting on the gated entrance. After a typical check, they nodded to Mara and opened the gates. The van parked next to many more. The seemingly abandoned establishment, once a correctional facility, was a huge, ugly piece of cement. Despite its appearance, it was host to a lot of hidden beauty.

"Here, let me take her for you" a bald, white man with shoulders as wide as door-frames, addressed Mara and the others. He had a kind, helpful tone in his voice. "Thank you Dimitri, it's been a tough day" Mara greeted the man from inside the back of the van, as she "passed" him the bound girl (with her legs retaped together). The man effortlessly tossed her over his shoulder and made his way towards the building.

The muscular man opened the steel-slide doors with no strain, keeping his other arm wrapped around the girl's waist. The weight of a squirming, adult woman, didn't even register to him. "The show will start in about 3 hours, so i'll guess you'll stick around..." Dimitri chit-chatted with Mara, as they all walked down the grey corridors. "Yeah, we'll hang out until then..." Mara replied.

They reached the cell section of the building. From the (significant) height of the man's shoulder, Caitlin could see left and right, numerous naked women, all bound with black, leather restraints, gagged with the same red ballgags and caged behind the traditional bars of the prison cells. Even though all the cells were the same size, some of them had 3 or 4 women, while in others 10 or 11 women were "squeezed" together. Each cell had a small white board, hanged on the vertical bars, with a code written on it with a sharpie. The code corresponded to a different slaver, or slaver team. Thus, each cell contained the fruits of the slaver's labor, neatly stored and waiting for the auction. Some had been there for two weeks, other luckier ones, like Caitlin, would have to wait only a few hours.

The group stopped in front of a cell, with the code X92Y. 6 women inside, raised their heads at the impromptu "visit." 3 fire-redheads of ages 18-38 that would satisfy anyone with a "hot ginger fetish." A couple of blonde sisters, only a few years apart, that had been abducted with the goal of being sold as a "package deal." Finally, a brunette "cougar" with short bangs that was actually hitting on Mara at a nightclub, before the girl figured she could make some profit off of her.

All 6 women had the same leather restraints and thick, noise-cancelling, red ball-gags. Each red ball had a black number on it, to mark them and easily keep track of each "piece." They were either lying defeated on the floor, or sitting on some shitty, wooden benches across the cell's walls. They all possessed a killer body and Caitlin was no exception.

A second guard approached them, giving a slight nod. Caitlin was gently placed on the dirty floor. The fact her dress was soiled by the dusty van and now the even dustier jail-floor, would not bother her soon. The man took out a box-cutter. In one swoop slice from bottom to top, her dress was on the floor. Two quick nips later, her panties joined it. Her earrings were quickly removed by hand. Everything was thrown on a nearby bin, dedicated for just these types of garbage. Caitlin was only dressed in tape now.

Dimitri and the three girls chatted for a bit, as the man worked quickly and efficiently on their latest acquisition, removing the tape and the ball from the girl's mouth, not waiting for any response or comment, before shoving a red ballgag in, with the number 7 visible between her painted lips. He buckled the strap tightly behind the girl's head. He then removed the tape from the legs, and put her ankles into some thick, but softer, black, leather ankle-straps. They were connected by a short, silver chain, making hobbling possible, but not anything else. He then moved on to her arms, placing some matching, leather wrist cuffs on her, behind her back. The leather restraints were of good quality. It'd be bad business of the merchandise damaged itself due to their struggling.

The door was opened and Caitlin was gently pushed inside. Wouldn't want a careless slave breaking her nose, and causing her price to plummet. The sound of the key locking the door was heard behind her. Caitlin was left to socialize with the other muted women, while Helena, Raleen and Mara went downstairs to grab something to eat.

The huge space was once a storage area for a factory no longer operating. It had been converted into what would be the "Auction Hall." There were fully equipped bars, working on either side of the vast room, as well as a very long, fancy buffet. Plenty of comfy seats were already facing towards a small stage. Some smooth jazz was playing from the speakers, to cover the awkward silence, but mainly to drown out all the ceaseless moaning and whining coming from the bound women on one side of the room. Their ball-gags had all been replaced with mean spider gags, each keeping a generously inflated, rubber gag, trapped behind their teeth, the little ball-pump sticking out from the metal ring through its little tube. These pump gags proved surprisingly efficient in soundproofing the place. After all, no one was in the mood to hear Caitlin's, or anybody else's, distressed protests.