Jen Ch. 1

Most women hate it when men ogle them, or whistle at them on the street, or try to "accidentally" touch them. But Jen wasn't "most women." She enjoyed the attention of men, however she got it. Sometimes she wondered why she wanted male attention so much. Sometimes she thought it was because her father had so seldom noticed that she was even alive. She had learned many tricks over the years to try to get his attention. She was funny, and she could make him laugh sometimes (even though he was a sourpuss). She was smart, and she could sometimes impress him with her intellectual abilities (but only if she was the best at something).

And, when she had become an adolescent, she had gotten his attention by rebelling, and that included rebelling sexually. She started to dress provocatively. This not only made her father notice her (even if it was just to yell at her and tell her what a "slut" she looked like), but it did something even better: it made other men notice her too. Jen learned to get attention by wearing short skirts and low-cut blouses. She learned that if a man wasn't looking at her cleavage, she could almost always get him to look by casually fumbling with the top button of her shirt. She had learned to do it so casually that it looked like a mannerism, rather than what it was, a come on.

Once, in college, she had a professor who had so much concentration that even the button trick didn't work. She had to wait until he was facing her during lecture, and then actually put her hand into the top of her shirt -- like she had an itch, or had to adjust her bra -- but she left it there for a long time. Jen always smiled when she thought about how that was the move that finally got him. For the rest of lecture, every time he turned in her direction, his eyes flipped down to her cleavage. Then he'd look up into her eyes, and she'd smile at him. After that, he invited her to come to his office hours for some "extra help." The extra help turned out to involve the two of them making out and feeling each other up on the small couch in his office. But that is another story ....

It was also in college that Jen started to explore her bisexuality. She'd spent so many years trying to get men to want her, so it was a wonderful and unexpected surprise when she realized that another woman was coming on to her. At first Jen didn't even realize what was happening. It was a fraternity party, with people putting back plastic cups of 100-proof punch like it was mineral water. Jen was already well lubricated (from both alcohol and lust), and was in the middle of a huge mass of dancing people. Some people were dancing with partners, but others (like Jen) were just twisting on the dance floor by themselves like snake-charmers in a trance. Jen knew some guy would pick her up soon. She was hoping tonight for a sort of preppie-jock type with a big cock. Instead, a pretty woman that Jen knew from one of her classes started dancing with her and smiling at her. Jen smiled back, pleased that the woman was being so friendly with her. Soon, the woman took the silk scarf from around her neck, put it around Jen's waist, and pulled Jen toward her.

Before she knew it, the woman's hips were grinding against Jen's, and Jen's were instinctively grinding back. The party was loud, so it was hard to hear, but the woman leaned forward so her mouth was next to Jen's ear. (Jen felt a spasm between her legs when she felt their chests touch, even through their shirts.) "Why don't you walk me back to my dorm?" the woman asked. This was pretty much standard code on the campus for "I want you to come to my room and do it with me." Jen dreamily left the party holding hands with her new lover. They didn't say a word on the walk to the dorm, and when they got to her room -- well, I should save that story for another time too.

Our story about Jen starts a few years later, after Jen had graduated and gone to work in a graphic design firm. Jen's almost unique combination of artistic and technical skills made her a valued employee, and that made her proud. And she also took every opportunity to "get attention" from the men who worked there. Things were quiet at work today, though. So Jen decided to take off early for lunch. As she left work, she thought about how over lunch she might sit and move to give the maximum exposure to the men in the bistro she planned to go to. These thoughts excited her, so she decided to take a shortcut to get to lunch more quickly.

As she turned down the alley, Jen noticed something odd. A van that had apparently been driving down the road behind her suddenly came to a screeching halt right past the alley. It then backed up and turned down the alley. The alley was pretty narrow, so it was a tight fit for Jen and the van. She stepped to the side to let the van pass. She was surprised when it stopped and the window nearest her, on the passenger side, went down. Inside was a friendly and pleasant looking man. He was dressed in a nice shirt and tie, like a businessman or other professional.

He smiled and said, "Excuse me, miss? I'm really sorry to bother you, but I'm from out of town, and I'm trying to find a restaurant where I'm supposed to meet someone. I'm kind of late, and this is an important client, so I was hoping you could point me in the right direction." He smiled hopefully. He seemed quite sincere and harmless, and besides he was way over on the driver's side, so what could he do? Jen smiled back and asked which restaurant it was. It was a complicated story. It was apparently supposed to be down by the docks, but the name his secretary gave him wasn't listed in the phone book or on his tourist map. Jen suggested several names that sounded vaguely like the name his secretary had given him, until they hit on one that was probably it. She told him what street it was on.

"Oh, great, thanks!" he said. He held up his map. "So I'm here right, so I just head north?" He pointed to a place on the map nowhere near where they were. Jen laughed and said, "You really are lost. Here, let me show you," and she gestured for the map. He smiled gratefully and stretched the map out to her. Jen reached up to take it in her hands, and without warning a woman lunged from behind the passenger seat and grabbed Jen by the upper arms. Jen was completely taken by surprise, so she froze, and the woman was surprisingly strong, so it was easy for her to pull Jen into the back of the van.

Jen found herself on her back with the woman straddling her. It was too dark to get a good look at her. Before Jen could do anything, the woman had wrapped a long, wide piece of tape over Jen's mouth and around her head. Jen struggled desperately to push the woman off her, but the woman expertly pinned Jen's hands over her head, and Jen heard the "zip" of handcuffs closing, and felt the cold steel tighten around her wrists. The woman flipped around so she was straddling Jen facing the other direction, roughly tugged off Jen's shoes, and looped some kind of cord around both of her feet. The cord was wide enough to allow her legs some movement, but it would obviously make Jen hobble slowly and awkwardly when she walked. Jen suddenly realized that the van had been moving for a while, and the driver was whistling as if he were just out for a pleasant afternoon jaunt. The woman in the back of the van started to put Jen's shoes back on. She was much more slow and deliberate about putting them back on than she had been about taking them off. They were bright red shoes with spike heels: classic "fuck-me shoes." The woman had not seemed to exert herself at all when she was tying Jen up, but she seemed to be breathing more heavily as she ran her hands over the hose covering Jen's feet. After gently caressing Jen's feet for a few moments, she slowly and carefully put the high-heels back on, then kissed the toe of each shoe when she was done.

Tears of fear were running down Jen's face. She imagined all the awful news reports, documentaries, and movies she had seen about serial killers. "I'll never see my friends or family again," she thought. But the woman turned around again, and put her face right over Jen's. She gently caressed the side of Jen's face and whispered in the most comforting voice, "Sweetie, I want you to listen to me, and you must believe everything I am about to say. We are going to take you back to our place, and we are going to do things to you -- bad, sick things." Jen sobbed even harder than before. "BUT!" the woman continued, "you are not going to die. When we are through with you, you will be returned.

You'll be gone no more than 24 hours. You can tell your employers that there was a family emergency, and you can tell your family that there was a work emergency. We will do nothing that will permanently injure you, or even leave a permanent mark. Unless," she smiled, "you beg us to leave a mark on you!" Jen had stopped sobbing, but she stared into the woman's eyes with fear and disbelief. She suddenly noticed how beautiful the woman's eyes were. They were a wonderful shade of blue-green, and they seemed dangerous, but also knowing and loving. "You see," the woman went on, "we've been watching you for a long time. We've spied on you at work, while you were out walking or shopping, and even through your windows. We even put a bug in your bedroom so we could listen to you fuck your boyfriends and girlfriends." Jen looked back at her in utter shock.

"Of course, we had to go back later and add a bug in your computer room at home, once we figured out you were doing most of your masturbating in that room. We wouldn't want to miss out on listening to you frig your wet little pussy, would we?" This was really too much, Jen thought. Surely she was making this up. The woman seemed to read Jen's thoughts: "Oh, it's all true, Jen. Or should I say, Jennisex2001?" Jen's eyes widened; that was one of her online names!

"I'm very good with computers myself," the woman explained. "I've hacked into your online accounts. You've been a VERY naughty girl! Did you think no one would ever find out about how you masturbated in the supply room at work because some online mistress ordered you to do it?" Oh god, it is true, Jen thought! "So don't worry, sweetie," the woman continued. "We know all about you. We know what you're really like, and we know what you need. We care about you. We really do. And you, I, and my husband are going to make each other VERY happy for the next day. Just remember, sweetheart: sometimes pain is love."

So Jen bumped around, tied up and gagged on the floor of a van, as two strangers who knew all her secrets took her somewhere for unspeakable acts only they could imagine. The van drove for a long time, with the man and woman sitting up front. They were chatting in a happy tone, but they had the radio on, so Jen couldn't hear what they were saying. The van seemed to be going over rough, semi-paved roads after a while. "We must be somewhere out in the country," Jen thought. Finally, the van stopped. The woman returned to the back of the van, and slipped a hood over Jen's head. She then dragged Jen to her feet, and pulled her out of the van and roughly led her forward. It was hard to walk with the cord around her ankles, but the woman made Jen go fast, so that she frequently fell, after which the woman would roughly yank her to her feet. As she stumbled along, Jen could hear the sound of birds singing, and felt the sun on her skin. Even under the hood, she could smell flowers and the fresh country air. She guessed that, in different circumstances, she would find this place quite beautiful.

Jen felt herself being led up some wooden stairs, presumably onto a porch. She heard someone fumbling with keys, then a door being opened. She was pulled inside, then led down twisting and turning hallways and around corners. "This must be one of those big, old Victorian country houses," Jen guessed. Eventually, she was led down a long wooden staircase. The air turned colder and moister, with a slight hint of mustiness. At the bottom of the stairs she heard another jangle of keys, the turning of a lock, and then what sounded like a panel sliding back.

After that, she could hear a faint whimpering sound. She was suddenly shoved forward onto an uneven stone floor, like the kind you find in really old buildings. She heard some footsteps walking away, the sliding of the panel, and the turning of the lock. Now all was quiet, except for her own labored breathing under the hood, and the pathetic whimpering. She noticed that both sounds seemed to be echoing slightly. She figured her captors must have left the room, at least momentarily, so she pushed herself up into a sitting position with her manacled hands, then tremblingly pulled the hood off her head. Her guess was right. She was in an old cellar with a stone floor and stone walls on three sides. One side had what looked like some newer, and very expensive, wood panelling. Part of the panelling was apparently a door. She could barely make out the seam, but the heavy metal hinges were obvious. This was obviously a strong room. It was probably soundproof, and would be very difficult to break out of. That was all she was able to take in of the room before she saw what really shocked her: there, sobbing in the fetal position on the floor, was the one woman that Jen truly loved.

Even collapsed in a sad heap on the floor, Jen's lover was still exquisitely delicate and beautiful. Jen's heart ached with love and concern for her. She dragged herself across the rough floor, getting some nasty scrapes in the process, to comfort her. Her lover was so frightened and without hope that she had not even looked up when Jen had been brought in. So when Jen picked her up to hold her, her lover finally looked at Jen's face, and gasped, "Oh no, Jen, no! Not you! Anyone but you!" The quiet sobbing turned to desperate crying. "They said they were going to bring another woman to torture with me, but I never thought in a million years that it would be you!" Jen tried to put on a brave front so her lover would not be too desperate, but tears were soon streaming down her face too.

"How did they get you?" Jen asked. "He came to my apartment," her lover explained, "pretending to be a flower delivery guy. I was so happy when I saw the bouquet. I thought it might be from you. I turned to look at the card, and it said, 'Surprise, bitch!' Before I could react, he jumped on me and had me bound and gagged in seconds. The woman had been hiding in the hallway, and she brought in a wooden box. They shut me inside it -- oh, god, Jen, it was like a coffin! -- and used it to carry me out to their van. The woman gave me this speech about how they were going to let me go eventually, but I don't believe it. I just don't believe it at all. Oh, what are we going to do Jen? What are we going to do?" Jen didn't know how to answer, so she just kissed her lover softly and lovingly on her quivering lips, and the tears from their two faces mingled.

There was only time for the one kiss, because the panel in the wall swung open again. The man was there, dressed almost the same as he had been in the van, with one exception: he had a whip in his hand. And his face, while still smiling, seemed much crueler than before. The woman was beside him. Jen wasn't sure exactly what she had been wearing in the van, but it seemed very utilitarian. But her outfit was very different now, black shoes with stiletto heels, fishnet stockings attached to a leather garter belt, a leather g-string, a leather bra with some mean-looking metal studs, and a studded dog collar around her neck. She looked very imposing. She was tall and well-muscled. Physically, she looked like a gypsy: long, dark, wavy, flowing hair, skin that seemed naturally tanned, and those hypnotic blue-green eyes. She was beautiful, but not the delicate beauty of Jen's lover. This was the beauty of the feirce European barbarians who had sacked Rome and brought civilization to an end for hundreds of years.

The man spoke first. His voice was steely cold: "Did I tell you that you were allowed to take off your hood?" Jen looked down at the floor and slowly shook her head, No. His voice was now an angry growl: "So why the fuck did you take it off, you goddamn slut!" Jen started to cry, and sobbed, "I don't know." Now he was shouting: "Say 'I don't know SIR!' " Jen and her lover were now holding each other on the floor in the middle of the room, crying and rocking back and forth. "I don't know, sir!" Jen wailed. "You're going to be punished for your disobedience," the man announced, "and your little fuck-friend is going to be punished for not making you behave in our absence."

The woman strode over to a cabinet attached to one wall and pulled something out. It was a pair of short ropes, which she carried over to Jen and her lover, her heels clacking against the floor as she walked. Jen had not noticed the double pulley hanging from the ceiling above them. The woman ran the ropes over the pulley and yanked Jen's lover up to the rope. "Don't hurt her!" Jen pleaded. The woman gave Jen a backhanded slap across the face that knocked Jen on her back. She then finished attaching Jen's lover's handcufffs to the rope, and started hoisting her up in the air, until she could just barely hold herself up on the tips of her bare toes. Jen was soon in the same position, up in the air on the tips of her red shoes, face to face with her lover. The woman gave an evil chuckle, then started to rip their clothes off, first tearing off Jen's sexy white blouse and pretty, short skirt.

She stopped when she noticed that Jen wasn't wearing any underpants: "You whore!" she shouted. "Were you planning on letting another strange guy pick you up and fuck you against an alley wall or something? I bet you think it's not right that we've taken you like this. But cock-whores like you only have one right: to be taken and fucked by whoever wants you!" The woman then grabbed a handful of Jen's pussy hair and twisted it, making Jen scream. The woman then tore off Jen's lover's jeans and T shirt. She was wearing panties: lacey pink ones. "Pink panties?" the woman snarled in contempt. "What are you, a fucking virgin?" Then she gave an evil smile: "I know. Let's see if you are a virgin," and she quickly rammed three fingers hard up her cunt. Jen's lover howled. "Nice and tight," the woman remarked. "But pretty wet for a virgin."

"Oh, please don't hurt her," Jen pleaded. "Oh, don't worry," the woman announced evenly. "WE are not the one who are going to hurt her." Jen didn't have much time to analyze this enigmatic threat. She and her lover were hanging there naked, with their clothes in tatters on the floor beneath them, for only a few seconds, before the man quietly walked over to the cabinet and got something else out. It was a tape recorder. The man spoke to Jen's lover: "There are a few things I want you to learn about your little girlfriend here. Do you think you love her? How could you love anyone as filthy as Jen?" Then he pushed the button on the tape recorder and it began to play. "Oh god no!" thought Jen. It was Jen and her boyfriend in her bedroom. She remembered that night. "Please don't let HER hear this!" Jen thought. Her boyfriend was telling her what to do, and she was obeying every command like a mindless slave. "Get on your knees," his voice said. There was the sound of a zipper coming down. "Now suck it, you cunt! Suck harder, you cocksucker!"

The four of them in the dungeon could actually hear the slurping sounds of Jen working her mouth back and forth and up and down and around her boyfriend's cock. Jen was so ashamed to have her lover hear her be like this, especially because she knew what was coming up. The sucking sounds and her boyfriend's brutal commands and humiliating trash-talking went on for several agonizing minutes. Then her boyfriend grunted like a rutting animal in what was obviously an orgasm. Jen remembered how the hot, sticky cum had landed on her face. There was a brief pause. Then Jen's boyfriend growled, "You got your filthy spit all over my cock, you fucking cunt!" and you could hear the loud "slap!" as he hit her so hard she fell onto her back on the floor. The last sounds on the tape were Jen crying, and Jen's boyfriend laughing at her as she lay on the floor with his cum on her face. In the dungeon, Jen was crying so hard now from humiliation that she couldn't even see. She was glad, because she didn't want to have to face her lover after she had heard that.