David Vanishes

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'It's really very tragic' she continued, holding my despairing gaze with a mischievous glint in her eye. 'Promising young editor...driven to self-hatred by his professional shortcomings and his serial infidelities....' She burst out giggling. I was trying to shake my head but her grip on my chin was firm for such a dainty hand. She pushed my face back towards the screen again. This time it wasn't a news programme, but a grainy, poor-quality home movie. The scene appeared to have been filmed surreptitiously, because the angle was low, and shapes kept moving in front of the lens. With horror I recognized the church from my parents' hometown. Quiet organ music was playing, a minister was speaking, and the undercover cameraman panned slowly around to reveal a congregation of my friends, colleagues, and family, many of them sobbing, all of them dumbfounded with shock. I caught a glimpse of Emily, her face buried in my best friend Richard's shoulder. I felt as if I was in a horror movie.

Unable to look away from the screen, I next saw the camera pan around to look down the closest aisle to reveal Crawford, his wife and yes, Sophie. She had actually gone to my own memorial service? My mind was reeling now. I felt myself falling into a deep black hole. The camera paused on Sophie for a while. She was wearing an indecently short, tight black dress that rode right up her stockinged thighs as she sat in the church. She glanced sideways at the secret camera, and winked. She looked so fucking delicious, I felt my dick harden involuntarily. The screen went black.

'It was a beautiful service' Sophie murmured from beside me. 'All of your friends are so lovely. I had a wonderful time getting to know them afterwards....' She left the sentence hanging, allowing me to imagine just how well she got to know them. 'And Emily -- so pretty. Don't worry about her David, I think Richard is going to take very good care of her, if you know what I mean.'

Even through my abject misery I was enraged by this little whore's relentless, cruel teasing, and I bellowed into my gag, summoning up every ounce of strength to try and break through my restraints. My mind was filled with visions of leaping on Sophie, smashing her pretty face against the stone floor, stamping on her tight little body, making her pay for what she was doing. Soon I tired myself out and hung there, wheezing, sobbing.

Sophie, of course, just sat there, arms folded, smiling at me serenely, and then she stood up, towering over me.

'Please keep doing that' she said politely. 'I love watching you try.' I hated her more than I had ever hated anything. 'So as you can see, everyone thinks you are dead. Which means I can play with you here as long as I want -- and believe me, I take a long time to get tired of my toys.' As tears streamed from my face, Sophie raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. I howled in pain.

She looked down at me, her face flushed, her breath quickening. 'Mmmm, that felt good' she purred. 'A little taste of what's to come for you. You know you really do look very, very cute all tied up and sobbing like a little boy. I think you're going to be quite a money-spinner for us.'

This last remark made me start, and I started wailing 'Why? Why? Why?' into my gag over and over again. I was just making unintelligible noises but Sophie seemed to guess my confusion because, before she pulled the hood back down over my head, she leaned in close and whispered.

'No explanation.'

Abandoned to my private, silent torture chamber again, I sobbed for hours. The sickening extent of Sophie's evil was slowly dawning on me. She had faked my suicide, and made the whole world believe it. I was trapped here and nobody would even be looking for me. The tears came again as I drifted into a horrific semi-conscious state.

Chapter 5

I was left alone for a long time. Again, there were the periodic visits from invisible tormentors, applying clamps, inserting things into my anus, buzzing me with some kind of electric tazer. I felt like a pig on a spit. Or, a science experiment, strapped down, waiting for dissection. The severe sensory deprivation was taking its toll and having barely said anything, seen anything or heard anything for weeks, my mind was turning to mush. All I could cling on to was my hatred of Sophie and my self-pity. Thoughts of escape grew fewer and fewer until I redirected my miniscule mental energy from defiance into dumb survival.

The next time Sophie returned, things were different. The hood was removed, and I groaned when I saw her. She was dressed up in knee-high leather boots, tiny, tight designer shorts, a tight-fitting top and long, black gloves. She looked a million dollars and despite myself I knew I still wanted her. She knew this of course, and stalked around provocatively in front of me, bending over, posing, showing herself off like a cheap slut. The men were busy too, setting up lights and, I realized wearily, a camera. So everything was coming true: I recognized the set up from that tape Sophie had been watching, all that time ago. Sophie watched me closely, taking in my dawning fear.

'Looks familiar doesn't it Boy?' she teased. I don't know when she stopped calling me David, but I never heard my real name again. 'When you were spying on me that night, like the dirty pervert you are, I bet you never thought you'd be the star of the show, right?' I tried not to let her taunts get to me, but it was no good. She knew how to push her buttons, and I was as helpless in her hands as I had been when she used to flirt with me in Paris.

'We've been making these films for a few years now. The audience for stuff this extreme is pretty small, but the people who like it, really like it. I mean big money. Not that I need the money of course. I do this for the love.' Sophie burst out laughing at her own joke.

'It's amazing what you can buy -- and sell -- online these days' she continued. 'We've got customers in Brazil, in Thailand, India, all over Europe and the US. A whole community of people who just love watching hapless, helpless men being tortured and raped. Luckily I love it too.' I was breathing heavily now, trying to steel myself for what I knew was coming.

'We're ready?' she asked someone. 'Then let's go.' Ignoring my frantic struggles and moans, Sophie turned to the camera and started talking, introducing the scene as if it was a documentary. I saw her flash her brilliant smile before turning around to face me, a look of intense excitement on her face. Her pretty blue eyes were burning with something that looked like lust. I gazed pathetically up at her, hoping that maybe I could still communicate some degree of my anguish and make her stop. But she just licked her lips and nodded to someone behind me. And then I felt rough hands on my hips. And then I felt something hard pressing between my buttocks.

I tensed up, instinctively trying to pull away, but of course I had nowhere to move. They didn't even bother to lubricate me. My cheeks were being slowly pulled apart, allowing whoever was about to rape me easier access. I felt my unseen assailant's hard, obviously very large cock pressing tight against me. I was breathing hard, unaware of anything other than the prospect of imminent pain. And then he eased off -- were they going to stop? No -- of course not -- moments later he slammed into me with insane force and I felt a tearing, popping sensation as he forced his cock past my tight asshole and into my anus.

The agony was like nothing I had ever experienced. And before I could even get used to this awful, awful pain, he started to move. Rocking back and forwards, slowly at first, rhythmically, but gradually speeding up, he buried the length of his monstrous cock into me again and again. Noises, not even words, babbled from my gagged mouth as he raped me, the pain from my ass blocking out all other sensation, even blocking out rational thought. My strapped-down body was practically lifted off the frame under the force of his assault.

As I hung there, grunting and moaning, Sophie walked forward and leaned in close to my face. She stroked my tear-stained cheek tenderly, humiliatingly, and whispered to me:

'I can't imagine how much pain you must be in, Boy. Do you feel like you've died and gone to hell? I hope so. You must hate me so much' -- her eyes flashed as a particularly violent thrust slammed me against the frame -- 'but I bet you still want me, don't you?'

She raised an eyebrow and parted her lips slightly. Her gorgeous face was just inches from mine.

'Tell me, Boy...do you still want me, even after everything I'm doing to you?' Defeated and ashamed, I closed my eyes and dropped my head.

'I knew it!' she laughed, clapping her hands together. 'You absolute darling! That is so...thrilling.' Her hand was already snaking its way down towards her crotch, and as my attacker slammed into me again, Sophie began to get herself off.

Every muscle in my body screamed for release. I tried desperately to break free, my need to stop the pain overcoming my knowledge that escape was impossible. Tears streamed down my face. And still this man was fucking me.

Again, and again, he pulled almost the whole way out before sliding his length agonizingly back into me again. Each time he nearly pulled out, the anguish was redoubled by his re-entry. I have no idea how long this lasted. Finally I felt something damp inside me, and I realized that he had cum.

Hanging there, strapped down, sweating and crying and feeling torn and bruised inside, I thanked God that it was over. And then -- another pair of hands. My cheeks squeezed apart again. Oh god -- no, please, no. I looked up frantically, and Sophie was nodding, her face flushed with excitement. Something hard between my cheeks...

And it started again. I don't even know if it was a different person -- the total anonymity made it even more humiliating. I was being gang raped. I could physically feel my ass being stretched wider this time and the pain was no less intense. The pressure inside me made me feel as if I was going to burst. My fingers and toes tensed again and again, scrabbling around, trying to find anything to lower the pressure on my ass, but there was nothing of course.

This man came. Then there was another, and another. By the end I wasn't even struggling or moaning any more, I was just hanging there, limp, sobbing softly, utterly defeated. As the final, brutal attacker exploded into me, I realized with a deep shame that my cock was semi-erect.

There was a pause. I looked up. Sophie was beaming down at me. The cameras had stopped rolling.

'Not bad' she mused. 'But try and show a bit more enthusiasm next time.' Everyone in the room laughed. I wept openly. Sophie knelt down next to me, her tight shorts perfectly showing off her unbelievable legs, and reached out to grasp my cock between two fingers.

'He's actually hard' she gushed. 'The little slut -- he did enjoy it!' My cheeks turned an even deeper red. She flicked the swollen head of my cock with her nail, making me wince. 'All in good time, slut' she said, standing up. 'Filming continues tomorrow.' Then the hood was replaced, and they were all gone.

True to her word, the next day brought exactly the same routine. Another line of huge, shaven-headed brutes, another relentless round of ass-fucking. I was just a piece of meat.

The next day, as the cameras were being set up, they wheeled something in front of me. It was a large trolley, holding some kind of mechanical apparatus -- what looked like an engine, connected to a long thin metal pole, with a rubber attachment at the end. I gulped.

'This is a fucking machine' explained Sophie. 'And today, it is going to fuck you.' I groaned in terror. After the hood had been secured, I heard the machine being wheeled behind me, and felt the rubber cock pressed against my ass. Then a slow, steady whirring as it started, and the cock burst instantly through my now much looser anus. It was gentle to begin with, but soon the machine had worked up a fast, pounding rhythm. It was much harder than any of the men had fucked me, and even worse, I realized with a sinking feeling, it was never going to stop.

It lasted for hours, fucking me mechanically until I felt as if my ass had been torn apart and turned inside out. At some point I started to cum, and I couldn't stop -- stream after stream of sticky white cum leaked from my helpless cock. Sophie ripped off the hood and started to slap me hard across the face with a pair of leather gloves.

'You slut! You disgusting creep!' she shouted. I couldn't tell if she was ecstatic or furious -- it sounded like both at once. After filming had finished and they were preparing to leave, one of the men whispered something in Sophie's ear and she clapped her hands together with glee.

'Delicious idea!' she gasped. Turning to me, she smiled broadly. 'Just because filming has finished, Boy, it doesn't mean your fun has to end. We're going to leave the machine running overnight.' I shook my head desperately and started struggling again. 'Hush now' she tutted. 'Don't be so ungrateful.'

They left the hood off this time and pulled a large mirror in front of me, so that I could watch as they machine whirred into action again. When they left I watched myself being fucked in the ass by the machine for hours, dumbly contemplating this living hell, before I finally passed out.

As the weeks dragged on, the 'scenes' as Sophie called them changed slightly. Some days I would be fucked in the ass. Other days, they would replace my hood with a new hood, one with a hole in the mouth, and they would force me to suck cocks. In one session I swallowed over 100 loads of cum. Some days there were no cocks in my ass or my mouth, just me alone in the room with Sophie and her cruelty. She liked to electrocute me, spending hours with the tazer and her various home-made battery packs. She also liked to cut me. One session consisted of nothing but Sophie making a series of tiny, agonizing incisions between my fingers, my toes, and on my genitals with a razor blade. Occasionally she would toss me off, quickly and brutally, and then force me to swallow my own jism.

In all of these 'one-on-one' sessions, she took great pains to tease me, flirt with me almost, and I thought back bitterly to our first few encounters, when she had bewitched me with her girlish charms. I realized now that all of that had been preparation for this bizarre, twisted life she planned for me, and that I had blundered into it out of pure blind lust. She had played me like a puppet, and a puppet I had become.

When she had finished cutting me, Sophie sat down and talked to me. 'Boy, I want you to know how popular you are. Your tapes are our most successful series so far. Sales are through the roof. Just last week I was able to buy this darling necklace with the money we've made.' I stared dumbly at the expensive-looking pearl necklace around her throat.

'So even though I know you're in a lot of pain, please remember, we're all enjoying ourselves very much, and it's because you're such a good victim. I just hope you last longer than the last boy....'

And she stalked out.

Chapter 6

One day Sophie announced that there were going to be some new 'games' -- she said that with the last tape, 'my biggest hit yet,' they had included a message to the viewers. They had asked all of my fans to send in suggestions for new tortures and punishments. I listened in horror -- the thought of Sophie's extremely cruel imagination now being inspired by God knows how many like-minded sadists was terrifying.

'We'll be able to start using some of the best ideas next week, probably!' she gasped excitedly, clapping her hands together. I moaned into my gag and Sophie slapped me across the face with her gloves. 'Less of that, please' she admonished me. 'You should be grateful we're asking for input -- it'll make things so much more interesting for all of us.' She giggled as she replaced the hood and left me again.

Some time later, these 'new ideas' started to come thick and fast. The next period of my imprisonment was the most unspeakable yet. Fed by the sick fantasies of her customers, Sophie's enthusiasm for abusing me was redoubled. In this period I ate my own vomit. I ate my own faeces while the camera rolled, close-up on my tear-stained, retching face. They seemed to have abandoned the attempts to hide my identity from the viewers -- presumably it had been so long, they didn't think they needed to anymore.

During one of these 'audience feedback' sessions, Sophie appeared in front of me with a huge pair of wire cutters. She was staring at me so intensely, obviously very aroused. 'We're going to take one of your fingers' she breathed.

Convinced I hadn't heard her correctly, I didn't move. Then when she approached me and lowered the jaws of the heavy metal tool around my left index finger, I nearly lost my mind with panic. I thrashed about on the frame, knowing full well that this was exactly what she wanted -- she had already told me that 'struggle scenes' were some of the most popular episodes -- but I couldn't help it, my reflexes were telling me to escape at all costs as she started to apply some pressure to the handles.

I felt an extreme, sharp pain in my exposed finger. Sweating profusely, straining every weakened muscle in my body, I urged myself to break free, shutting my eyes against the pain. I heard Sophie gasping with the effort, and then, as a white bolt of agony seared through my body, I heard the crunching sound of my bone being destroyed. I opened my eyes and screamed like an animal into the gag, just in time to see Sophie's expression of wide-eyed triumph. She kept working with the wire cutters, tearing and grabbing at my now limp and useless finger until most of it came away in the tool. I started in disbelief at the bloody stump where my finger used to be, heard Sophie asking the cameraman if he'd caught everything, before I passed out.

More time passed. Sometimes Sophie would come to the room and just sit in front of me, talking to me, telling me how pathetic I was, how much she enjoyed torturing me. Telling me about her sexual exploits and watching me get hard, then masturbating as I cried in frustration and shame. One day she arrived, with a large group of people in tow, with a particularly vicious glint in her eye.

'Today we're going to play a really fun new game' she whispered through the hood. 'We're going to let you go.' My heart jumped. I didn't believe her of course -- no doubt this was just another tease, another cruel game to play with my emotions. But then I felt my ankle and leg straps being untied. My legs were free....I tried to move them and they barely responded, but move them I could. Next my wrist, arm and waist straps were released. I was untied! But I didn't move -- I knew the room was full of people, and I didn't want to risk whatever new punishment was obviously waiting for me. Besides, I was still wearing the hood.

'Now you're free to go' said Sophie. I waited for a long time, but nothing happened. Eventually, slowly, sure that this was some kind of trap, I pushed myself slowly off the frame. My muscles barely worked -- I could hardly lift myself. But I did, and then, for the first time in months, I was standing, supporting my own weight. I moved my arms -- they still worked, just about. I stood still, wobbling slightly, unsure of what to do.

'OK' said Sophie, somewhere very close to me. 'Here's the deal. As you know, this room only has one door. At the moment it's locked, but the key is somewhere in the room. If you can find the key, and unlock the door, we will give you ten minutes to make a run for it before we come after you. There is a public road within ten minutes of where we are now, so you have a chance of finding some help before we catch you. Got it?'