Producer & Director

Cindy's heart pounded a staccato beat in her ears and chest as she stared down an empty hallway. Brightly lighted from above, it appeared to be about twenty feet long and had the ubiquitous mirrors along the left side. She could see a door at the far end as well as one on the left about halfway down. Cindy hesitated as her analytic mind tried to decide what to do. Obviously the kidnappers had unlocked the door. Therefore, they also obviously wanted her to go down the hallway. Should she go or not? Her feeling self responded that a debate over this was stupid. It was like all of the other 'choices' she had been given: there was really no choice at all. She was a prisoner. Ultimately she would have to do what her captors wished. She might as well go now. Automatically adjusting her panties and shift (as though they really covered her very much), Cindy slowly walked down the hall to the first door. It was locked and wouldn't move. She advanced to the one at the end, gently turned the knob and felt the door begin to open towards her. Taking a deep breath she opened the door completely and found herself looking into a clone of the room she had just left. Actually, it was a mirror image of her room. Everything was reversed. She could see the dresser, the mirrors, and the bed. She gasped in surprise as she became aware that a person was lying on the bed. Without taking time to think, Cindy stepped back into the doorway, closing the door except for a crack through which she peered. You're being stupid said her analytic self, but Cindy wasn't listening.

The figure was a boy about her age, naked except for red bikini briefs. He appeared to be asleep. As she examined him from behind the door, Cindy realized with a start that it was the boy in the video. The boy who had masturbated while she had…had… Cindy's face began to burn with embarrassment. She shut the door completely and retreated back into her own room, struggling to regain her composure.

What should she do? Was the boy one of the kidnappers or was he a prisoner like she was? Had he been forced to make the video? In the video he didn't look like he had been forced, said her analytic mind. But, replied her feeling self, she hadn't been forced to do what she had done as a result of watching it. Refusing to go any further down that path Cindy's mind went blank. She sat down on her bed and wept quietly in frustration. Would she ever be able to go home?

****
Alan awoke slowly. He was aware that some sort of noise had initiated the process, but was unable to identify what it was. Sitting up, he looked around the room. Nothing had changed except that the tray was gone along with the trash from his last meal. On impulse he stood and tried to open the entrance door. It remained unyielding. He had stopped testing the doors early on when he finally accepted that he truly was a prisoner and had little or no chance of escape. If he avoided the existence of the locked doors he was better able to keep under control the gnawing toothache of fear. As he tried the side door he was astonished as it opened. How long had it been unlocked? He couldn't remember when he had last attempted to open it. Could he have walked out long ago?

Moving down the mirrored hall, he tested a door on the right side. It was locked. Reaching the door at the end of the passageway he turned the knob. The latch released and he swung the door towards him. Acting more boldly than he felt, he stepped into what appeared to be the same room he had just left. Except for being reversed, there was only one thing different about it. In this room there was a beautiful blonde girl sitting on the bed staring at him with wide, tear filled eyes. He recognized her instantly, even though this time she was wearing clothes.

Following about 30 seconds of awkward silence (which felt to the two teenagers more like 30 minutes) Alan was the first to speak. His simple, "Hi, I'm Alan" was said in such a subdued, uncomfortable tone that Cindy immediately responded with her name in the same manner, somehow reassured that she wasn't confronted by a threat, but was instead speaking to a fellow prisoner. Without conscious thought she set aside until some later time her questions regarding the video she had seen, something Alan had also unknowingly done himself after looking into Cindy's tear-stained face during the those first quiet moments. With a gesture Cindy told her visitor to come in and sit in the chair by the bed. As Alan took the first step he glanced down and suddenly realized his near nakedness, which he had become so used to since the start of his captivity. He stopped and blushed. His reaction reminded Cindy of her like situation and she automatically crossed her arms across her chest and her face assumed a reddish color as bright as his. She spoke first this time.

"Did they make you dress like that?"

Alan nodded, and she continued, "Me, too. Come and sit down."

As they sat facing each other, he in the chair, she on the bed, silence again settled upon them. Finally Alan, looking for something to fill the void, said, "Your room is the same as mine."

"I know," responded Cindy. "I saw yours."

"When?"

"A few minutes ago. You were asleep."

"Why didn't you wake me?" Alan asked.

Cindy blushed again. "I was afraid. I thought you might be one of the kidnappers. I've been alone for so long." He voice cracked as tears threatened to spill from her eyes again.

"Don't cry. I'm not mad. I thought I was the only one here, too. It feels weird to have someone to actually talk to. How did they get you here?"

Once the conversation began it was as though a dam had burst. Both of them were by nature talkers (although for Alan it was mostly when with his close friends) and they had been silent for many days. For the next hour or more they discovered where each lived, where they went to school (they were the same age and in the same grade), what their families were like, what they liked to do for fun, how they were kidnapped and what their experiences had been once they got to their 'rooms'. They found that they had been treated alike, even down to the videos and books that were in the dressers. Both, however, left out any mention of masturbation or the untitled videos they had seen.

Much more comfortable with each other now, they were amazed at how similar they were in likes and dislikes. Eventually this led them into speculation as to why they were the ones chosen to be kidnapped. The only reason they could arrive at was that their parents had some money. By comparing dates they knew that Cindy had been taken first and Alan five days after. They could come up with no clue as to why there had been the time difference just as they had no real idea of how long they had been in captivity.

The torrent of words unleashed by their meeting gradually abated. Cindy finally asked the key question they had not yet discussed. What now? Why had the kidnappers allowed them to meet? It was highly unlikely that the doors had been accidentally unlocked. Should they stay together in one room so as to keep each other company? Both strongly favored trying to stay together for mutual support. They truly wanted this, but inside each was somewhat nervous at the prospect.

Hunger eventually provided them with the means to see if they were going to be able to stay together. Since neither had eaten since last awakening, they decided to see what would happen if they pushed the button to signal for food. Would the kidnappers give them two meals in Cindy's room or only one? Would the food be accompanied by a note as sometimes happened? Cindy pushed the button and she and Alan waited apprehensively.

****

My meticulous planning had paid off once again. The two were together and fast becoming friends. It would be interesting to see if either would reveal to the other the tapes they had seen. They had been guarded in their conversation and each at this point had to think that only the other one had been taped. Whether or not I added more to my growing collection of videos depended on how they handled a situation no one had ever been in before: a situation that was my creation! It would be fun to watch no matter how it came out.

I put together two meals. To drink I gave each of my guests a glass of Dr. Pepper and included a pitcher holding enough for two more glasses. Into each glass I added a jigger of vodka. Into the pitcher I poured two jiggers. It was a little something to 'assist' in their decision-making.
Chapter 12

Two meals came back and there was no note. The kidnappers knew they were together and apparently weren't going to force them apart, at least for the time being. Both Cindy and Alan were pleased and in their joy neither realized that this also confirmed that the kidnappers were actively observing them. They didn't discuss possible reasons why they had been allowed to get together. Simply relieved at having someone to talk to, they chatted about family and friends as they ate and drank their soft drinks.

About halfway through her second glass of Dr. Pepper, Cindy felt herself getting a bit dizzy. When she stood up to put some trash on the tray she staggered a little. Alan didn't seem to notice as she again sat down on the bed. He himself was talking a bit louder than before and stumbled on some words, but Cindy didn't notice this in return. When they finished their drinks, Alan stood and said he wanted to watch a video (it was a way to fill in the silences which had begun to grow as their torrent of talking began to abate). He stepped to the TV, rewound the tape inside, pushed the play button and sat down in the chair. Cindy, her senses dulled, couldn't remember what she had last been watching. Probably a cartoon, she thought.

It was obvious to both of them from the lack of the usual warnings that were at the beginning of a video that this one was made non-commercially, probably by recording a program on television or by a person with their own video camera. When it finally began they saw what looked like a teenaged boy posing as though he was a bodybuilder. He was wearing only red bikini-cut shorts. There seemed to be no sound, just the picture. The boy had a reasonably good body and was actually pretty good looking in a way, but he was obviously goofing around for the camera.

Cindy gasped and sprang from the bed to turn off the machine. Betrayed by her impaired reflexes she ended up on the floor instead. Not saying a word, Alan gently put his hand on her shoulder and prevented her from getting up.

There was a brief period of no picture followed by a scene in which the same boy was lying on his back on a bed reading a book. Periodically the view shifted from the foot of the bed to the head of the bed and then to one side. As the boy read, the bulge in his shorts began to get larger. The shorts stretched out until there was a good-sized 'tent' in the boy's crotch. At that point the boy reached down with one hand and began to rub what was obviously his penis through his shorts. He began to rub faster and faster and then put down the book and proceeded to take off his shorts and throw them on the floor.

Alan turned off the video.

Leaving Cindy weeping on the floor, he silently left the room through the side door, bumping into the walls several times as he strode down the hall into his own room.
He returned before Cindy could get back onto the bed. Alan still said nothing. Through her tears Cindy watched him eject the video and insert another. He pushed the fast forward button for about 15 seconds and then pushed the play button.

When the picture came on a girl could be seen lying naked on a bed. Every so often the camera angle would shift: sometimes from the side, sometimes from the foot of the bed and sometimes from the head. From the side they could see the girl playing with her breasts. At times she gently brushed her nipples with her fingertips and at others she grabbed them between thumb and index finger, giving them a sudden twist. They could see her shudder as she tweaked and caressed herself. They saw her bend her head down while lifting up one boob trying to reach her nipple with her mouth and tongue.

Then Alan turned off the video a second time.

Numbed by the whirlwind transition from joy to distress, they both sat silently: Alan in the chair and Cindy on the floor. As she leaned back against the bed occasional tears slowly made lonely tracks down Cindy's cheeks. She held her knees tightly against her chest with her arms. Each kept their eyes averted from the other, but both stole furtive glances from time to time to assess the status of their fellow prisoner and to seek assurance they were still there. After a lifetime Alan softly spoke.

"Why are you crying?" His tone of voice carried no hint of judgment.

Cindy considered the question. Why was she crying? What a dumb thing to ask! Obviously she was ashamed and embarrassed. Who wouldn't be crying? But then her analytic self asked the next question: ashamed of what? Was she ashamed that she had masturbated, something she had already pretty much decided was not wrong, or was she ashamed because someone had seen her doing it? If it was the latter, it wasn't her fault she was seen. Maybe Alan was the one who should be ashamed for watching the video. But then, what about her watching the video of Alan? Was she ashamed of having seen it, and even more so, her responses to it? Confused, all she knew was that she felt terrible and that her feeling self needed to cry. She answered truthfully.

"I don't know". Then she added plaintively, "You must think I'm horrible".

Alan thought for a minute. He knew he didn't think Cindy was 'horrible'. Was he shocked at meeting the girl in the tape? Without a doubt. When he had viewed it (how many times?) he hadn't even considered that he was watching a real person. It was like looking at the pictures in the magazines. He was turned on by what he saw and responded accordingly. All boys beat off, but he hadn't really thought about girls. Guys he knew called girls who put out or weren't modest 'sluts'. A slut wasn't really a person. It something to be looked down on and sneered at. Was this fair? No way did he think Cindy was a slut. When he really considered it, why should girls be any different than boys when it came to 'playing' with themselves? Come to think about it, shouldn't she think he was 'horrible' for doing the same thing she had done?

"Did you know someone was videotaping you?" he asked in the same soft tone that until today he had no idea he was capable of using.

"Of course not!" Cindy snapped, the flash of anger breaking through her despondency.

"Neither did I", he responded, keeping his cool. "I feel as terrible as you do, but I don't think you are horrible at all. I'm sorry I showed you the tape. I was just so angry when I saw the one made of me, I just had to show that I wasn't the only pervert around here."

For once Cindy's analytic and feeling selves were in agreement. She took a deep breath, sniffling a bit in the process. "Alan, what you did on the tape doesn't make you a pervert." She paused, seeking the right words. "None of this is our fault. It's the kidnappers' fault." (Was she talking to Alan or to herself?) "All I know is that when we were talking together it was the first time since this thing started that I didn't feel afraid. We need to stick together, no matter what you think of me. Please?"

The rush of warmth that Alan experienced at that moment revealed to him just how bad and how scared he had been feeling since he had seen himself on the TV screen. He hadn't realized how frightened he was that he would be rejected by Cindy and be forced to be on his own again in this motel prison. The relief was evident in his voice. "We've been in this together from the start and just didn't know it. Now that we do, it would be stupid to split up. Let's just start over, OK?"

Cindy nodded in agreement with a small smile (the first smile in a long time, her feeling self noted). Both of them shifted positions briefly, as though to seal the pact with a hug, but she was still on the floor and he was in the chair and the necessary maneuvering would have taken away the spontaneity. Both of them at that instant formed very similar assessments in their minds. Despite what each of them had seen the other do on the tapes, their newfound friendship was going to develop. It was just that several steps backward would be needed before it moved in any other direction.

The alcohol in their systems kept them from considering the fact that their kidnappers had the ability to watch, listen, and record their every action and word. How would that influence their behavior when they figured it out? The combination of emotional exhaustion and being slightly drunk allowed them to drift into sleep right where they were: first Alan and then Cindy. Cindy's last coherent thought (perhaps also influenced by the vodka) was that she should have another talk with her mother soon because it seemed as though she was going to have a boyfriend.
Chapter 13

As I watched them go to sleep I was amazed at what had transpired. It was incredible that the tape in the machine just happened to the one I had made of the boy. I wished I could get into their minds and know what they were thinking. The situation I had constructed was new for me and I had no idea how it would turn out. I did know, however, that I had not expected to see what had happened. They didn't withdraw into cocoons, so embarrassed that they could no longer talk to each other. They didn't yell and scream, taking out on each other their anger at what each had seen. And they certainly didn't fall into each other's arms and screw, their inhibitions removed by having already seen each other making love to themselves. Perhaps the problem was that I was expecting them to act more like adults.

I wasn't all that surprised to see them go to sleep so soon. Based on my research I knew they weren't heavy drinkers like so many kids their ages seem to be nowadays. The alcohol, the emotional upset, and their already messed up sleep/wake cycles had to be responsible.

I knew that I would have one or two more days to observe them after I collected the ransoms. This was in order to make sure the money I received was not obviously traceable before I released them. It was time to make the phone calls and get the money. This was the most dangerous part of my plan (I had to coordinate two different drop-offs in two different cities), but if it went well it wouldn't take too long. I pulled in the tray to remove their trash, and after making sure my cameras were loaded I left to collect my hard-earned 'pay'.

****

Alan woke first. Without moving from the chair he looked down at Cindy, quietly sleeping on the floor curled up by the bed. Her shift was in disarray, having been twisted around her as she had tossed and turned in her sleep. Through the right armhole he could see one pale white breast. The pink nipple was softly rounded and notably absent was the hard, pencil-eraser tip that had been so prominent in the video. He knew he shouldn't be staring at her like this, but couldn't help himself. He felt his dick start to expand and with a start realized that he was betraying the fragile trust that the two had begun to build only hours ago. Alan stood up quickly and went into the bathroom. Following a quick pee to relieve his bladder (difficult to do with a hard-on without making a mess), he just as quickly relieved his other need, hoping Cindy wouldn't walk in on him while he beat off.

Cindy awoke slowly, at first surprised to find herself on the floor. She sat up rapidly to see Alan sitting on the edge of the bed watching her. As she remembered all that had happened 'yesterday' she blushed and pulled down on her shift to better cover herself. All that this accomplished was to accentuate the bulges made by her nipples, now erect in her nervousness. She gave him an embarrassed smile.