Snatched

"We're doing everything we can, sir. Never lose hope. We hope to have answers soon."

She had not mentioned anything about the content of the video, perhaps to spare my feelings or humiliation. I was getting a knot in my stomach at the mere thought of what might be on that video. On one hand, I was dying to see it ASAP to see that she was still alive and okay. On the other hand, I knew watching her being raped would enrage and disgust me. I had a mixed bag of emotions.

Since I was not due to appear in court that day, I left work early. I didn't feel like picking up anything to eat on my way home. I didn't want to risk throwing it up later. Normally I'd be enjoying an evening meal with my wife, catching up on our day. That pleasantry had been brutally ripped from us. My anxiety was running rampant. I ached to see Cindy again for the first time since her abduction, yet I knew what she would be doing, what I'd unwillingly encouraged her to do, what was necessary to survive. I still wasn't emotionally prepared.

As soon as I saw Cindy's image on the screen, my heart leaped in my chest. She was standing, and smiling as someone removed all of her clothing, one article at a time. Sexy jazz music was playing softly in the background. My first observation of her circumstance was the absence of any physical restraints. I considered that perhaps they had drugged her to induce her cooperation. I had no way of knowing what they had done to her. My naked wife was then gently laid down on a bed by a man, as someone else in the room must have recorded the video. Her unidentified abductor then proceeded to spread her legs and immaculately shave her crotch of every hair. It took him three successive attempts to get it all. Looking for clues to her whereabouts, I could see none. It appeared as though large white bedsheets were indistinctly supported around three sides of the bed, obscuring any views beyond the sheet-covered bed. One sheet was fastened to the wall, and draped down over the headboard. There were no bed covers, furniture, light fixtures, walls, or any identifying objects visible in the video. The cameraman was extremely careful to limit the exposure of her captor to his undistinguishable hands and lower arms. It was an anonymous white male. Her ignominious intimate shearing was performed deftly, without a word spoken between them.

In her prone state, Cindy's unsupported extra-large double-L cup breasts splayed out to her sides. After her shaving, the camera moved to focus on and fill the frame with Cindy's upper body. Her neck immediately captured my attention. She was wearing a flat choker necklace of some kind, either brass or gold in color. The snug-fitting jewelry was about one-half-inch wide consisting of intricately woven metal. It was a necklace I had never seen before. She seemed relaxed and looked directly into the camera. It was as if she was looking me right square in the eyes and it was unnerving. Perhaps that was her abductor's intent. The scene held another heart-sinking surprise. Her gorgeous long hair had obviously been whacked off and cut down to a bob by a hairdresser. There was no way that she could achieve such perfectly detailed results on her own. Her nails were painted bright red instead of the dull pink she normally wears. Then she rolled over on the bed.

The cameraman framed the shot of her lying naked on her stomach. The man's hands began massaging her. He was liberally using unidentifiable massage oil and became more intimate with her minute by minute. He nudged her to turn onto her back after ten or so minutes, then proceeded to massage her front side. I could see nothing of her masseur other than his hands and a long-sleeved black T-shirt. He spent an inordinate amount of time on her breasts, which remained splayed over the sides of her body. Then one of his hands sampled her crotch and took special liberties there. After some close-up camera work of him fingering her, the camera then moved to her face, which exhibited lustful pleasure as her passions were inflamed by the intimate attention. After five more minutes, her body trembled and she breathed so heavily that her breasts were undulating like waterbed bags of liquid flesh. Her unmistakable orgasmic release was captured in all its glory.

The video was plainly edited. The ensuing scene abruptly cuts to the man lying on his back as she reciprocates and becomes his masseuse. The camera was focused primarily on two areas. The scene cut back and forth between her expert manipulations of his cock and balls using her skilled hands, as well as showing the lustful and wanton expressions on her face as she stroked him. My wife is no actress. She was not faking her impious interest. At the sixteen-minute mark, his erratic gasps signaled his pending orgasm. Cindy deftly moved the back of her left hand up toward the end of his cock. He began urgently spurting his emission as she stroked and milked him expertly with her right hand. His semen was jettisoned onto her wedding rings, the rings that signified our marital bond. As the video panned back, it captured her wicked grin delighting in her accomplishment. It was patently obvious that this demonstration was intended to anger and humiliate me. It had achieved its intended effect.

Chapter-4

Next, the scene shifted to what appeared to be the same man lying down on his back on the bed. Her captor lay still as Cindy crawled onto the bed, straddling his body and facing him as she leaned forward. Her pendulous breasts hung low as she positioned one of her large nipples over his open mouth. Then she lowered her nipple as he began sucking in earnest. One of his hands manipulated my wife's breast as he erotically suckled her nipples. His other hand was missing but not for long. The cameraman quickly swung around to her ass. Her legs were spread widely as her captor helped himself to her pussy. He was dexterously tantalizing her crotch as her breasts succumbed to his expressed lust. He fingered her skillfully to orgasm. As she vociferously exploded, her asshole was undulating before the camera. There was zero doubt.

An abrupt edited scene change had me thinking some time had passed between takes. I could hear a lot of kissing sounds taking place on her lower body, but his body was out of the camera frame. Kissing noises eventually gave way to licking and sucking sounds. It was unmistakably discernable that he was performing oral sex on my wife. I wanted to believe that she was mentally resisting his attentions to the best of her ability, but then again, I remembered that I had encouraged her in my Facebook post to do everything she was told to the best of her ability, holding nothing in reserve.

The camera never left her upper body as she was feasted upon. She had never shaved her crotch for me because I like her natural fur there. Apparently, her captor doesn't. The sounds of cunnilingus were more noticeably apparent with the absence of her crotch hair. I imagine it felt differently to her as well. I watched Cindy's face begin to contort after a few minutes as she succumbed to his efforts. He moved his hands to her breasts, massaging them relentlessly as he slurped her nectar. At around twelve minutes, her unmistakable orgasm was blatantly obvious on her face, accompanied by heavy breathing, and guttural moans. Six minutes later, a second one was unambiguously observable, and after another ten minutes, her third and most explosive orgasm ripped through her body. I had never seen her tremble to that extent ever before and she had never been able to reach three successive orgasms with me during the entire course of our marriage.

I had to pause the video. I was emotionally eviscerated to see her evolve to be so sexually responsive to the scumbag that had kidnapped her and was raping her. Although I had unwillingly posted encouragement for her to cooperate with her captors, mental awareness was one thing, seeing it lived out in crystal clear ultra-high definition was unendurable. During my break, I had a drink to help calm my nerves. I knew the recordings would get even worse and I tried to mentally brace myself. I knew also, that I needed to do my part, or her time spent with them would be doubled. That would be anathema to me.

When I resumed the video, the scene had changed once more. As before, there was no way of knowing how much time had elapsed between takes. The next scene was even more unnerving to me. My wife was lying prone on her back with her legs spread widely. A man who obviously wanted to avoid identification moved between her legs. He was wearing a black balaclava hood, in addition to a black long-sleeved T-shirt, and some kind of black men's tights, similar to yoga pants or what I imagine male ballet dancers wear. They were form-fitting but the crotch was completely cut out of them. That fact was apparent when the cameraman shifted the viewing action to a close-up from behind them between two sets of parted legs. I saw Cindy's hand grasp the man's penis and guide it into her. It met with no resistance. I surmised that she must have been sopping wet after having been made to cum orally three times in a row. I did notice that she was still wearing her wedding rings. Apparently, the rapist had no qualms about her wearing them as he took her.

It disturbed me further to discover that her rapist's dick was inarguably a couple of inches longer than mine and much thicker as well. As his member sounded her depths, I heard her audibly acknowledge being filled beyond anything she had ever experienced before. There was no condom. The only view provided was an extreme close-up of the fucking action. I could hear her panting and breathing harder as he took her relentlessly. As the camera slowly widened the view, I saw that her knees were pulled up toward her chest and her legs rested upon his. I could see the soles of her feet. After roughly ten minutes had passed, I heard her scream out in orgasm. Her rapist slowed down as she creamed around his shaft. Then he picked up speed once again. This guy was a machine. He plowed into her another eight minutes whereupon she shrieked once more in exquisite bliss. Shortly after her orgasm, I heard a muted groan emanate from him as he unloaded into her. He was exercising tremendous restraint to inhibit vocalizing his explosive climax. I wondered why he was holding back, perhaps so I could better hear Cindy's audible responses to his movements. It certainly wasn't to limit my anguish and humiliation. There was no doubt, however, that he was cumming. Thick white seminal fluid began escaping around his thrusting member as he completed the thorough delivery of his emission inside of her.

As the camera panned back even more, it was evident that Cindy had tightly wrapped her arms and legs around her rapist. I had counted a total of seven unmistakable orgasms for her thus far, and the video wasn't over yet. Immediately after leaving his overflowing deposit inside my wife, he pulled her legs up and bent her knees toward her head, raising her backside up in the air. Then he stuffed a pillow against her back which had the effect of holding her crotch straight up. I was confused for a moment that her attacker might be positioning her for some unusual sex position. I was shocked to see him produce a clear plastic gynecological speculum and effortlessly slip it deep inside her slit. Next, he pressed the levers together which opened her vagina wide, exposing her vaginal canal. He shined a flashlight inside her channel and the cameraman positioned the camera just above her opening and aimed down inside her reproductive organs. The reason for this exposition became immediately apparent. Cindy's cervix was barely visible. It was inundated and bathed in a sizable pool of freshly delivered sperm. He was making sure that gravity would assist in the delivery of his swimmers through her cervix and into her womb. Then the scene faded to black. I have no idea how long she had been coerced to remain in that position after the camera fade. Anger, disbelief, and sorrow simultaneously overwhelmed me.

The next video frame consisted of a typed message screen that held for thirty seconds which read:

'Mr. Albright, using Facebook, post the correct number of orgasms your wife experienced during our very first times together. Remember, if you either deduce incorrectly or involve law enforcement, her time spent with me will automatically be doubled from two weeks to four. You might want to watch the video closely, several times to make sure you don't miss a single one of her orgasms. When you're certain, type the numerical digit(s) on your Facebook page with no other comment.'

The thought of watching that abhorrent video again nauseated me. Yet, I needed to be certain, to avoid prolonging her stay with him. Hopefully, the Police will soon have a bead on the asshole and free her of him. I can only hope. Helpless, I decided to take a break before watching it once more. In the meantime, I downloaded a screen capture program and installed it on my PC. The posted video was copy-protected. The new downloaded screen capture utility gets around copy prevention methods. I captured and saved the video file and named it by the date and time stamp when I watched it later a second time. I posted the number of her orgasms (7) on Facebook. It would be incomprehensible to anyone else, yet it is my only means of communicating with the rapist until his capture.

Detective Cassandra Jennings paid me a courtesy visit the next morning. I was already up and dressed and invited her into my home.

"Good morning Mr. Albright. We're well aware that you've seen the video and posted what we agree is the correct number to your Facebook account."

"I can't tell you how embarrassed I am for anyone but me to see my wife in such compromising circumstances. I want her to survive this ordeal and I want it to be over for her as soon as possible. Please tell me that your electronics crew has traced her whereabouts to enable her rescue."

"I wish that were true, sir."

"Please, call me Micah. No need for formalities."

"Thank you, Micah. Our video gurus have scrutinized all of the video elements. The lack of any surrounding background clues prevents them from identifying where the video recording took place. It could have been a hotel room, a bedroom in a house, or even a commercial or industrial building. They were clever about revealing as little as possible. As you know, her kidnapper wore all-black garments to conceal any identifying characteristics of his body. His only exposed skin was his hands and genitals, and unless you or someone else could identify them, which is highly unlikely, then, I'm afraid we have little to go on."

"What about backtracking how they posted the video on the cloud site for me to access?"

"I'm afraid we struck out on that front as well. Whoever is doing this is resourceful and very familiar with all of the latest methods law enforcement employs to snare criminals using online resources. For a short while, we thought we had them. We tagged the IP address that was the source of the online upload posting to the cloud website. Our resource officers tracked the IP address to Arlene Robbins and Janelle Conklin, a pair of lesbians living together on the outskirts of town. We brought them in for intense questioning. They were scared to death and swore that they knew nothing about any of this. We believe them. Their wireless router is unsecured. Anyone riding near their home could piggyback their signal from the street and use their Wi-Fi to upload the video file to the web. Anyone could have stopped in front of their house for a few minutes, then driven away, leaving no trace. We believe that's what happened. Due to the fact that the video files have all been uploaded locally, we believe that your wife is being held somewhere close by in the area. It's just a matter of time before we catch them."

She continued, "As much as it pains me to say this, Micah, we still have nothing concrete to go on. Are you certain that you have no idea who may have wanted to do this to her? We have interviewed many of her coworkers in pursuit of a potential school work connection but so far we still have no leads. Everyone we've interviewed has no suggestions about who would do something so vile to a teacher as nice as your wife."

"If you're trying to cheer me up, Cassandra, you're doing a lousy job. I was hoping that you'd have some idea by now."

"That's why I came to speak with you in person, Micah. I want to reassure you that we're not giving up. It's very likely that her kidnappers will inadvertently leave a clue at some point that will break this case wide open. Make no mistake, we're going to get these guys." She smiled at me unconvincingly. I did appreciate that she came in person but wished this ordeal could have ended today. The thought of Cindy enduring the living hell she was being put through was insufferable.

Shortly before noon, I received a call from Jack. "Hey, man. I haven't heard anything from you lately. Tell me some good news. Have there been any new developments with Cindy?"

"So far the Police have no solid leads in the case. The detective just left here a few minutes ago. She said they're never giving up, but the assholes who took Cindy seem to be very clever."

"I hate that for you, Micah. I was sure hoping there would be a quick end to this debacle."

"The kidnappers posted a video just as they said they would. I watched Cindy being raped by an asshole and it gutted me, Jack. I feel so helpless. I don't know what else to do!"

"Damn it to hell!" He shouted. "Look, Micah, I know you insisted that I stay out here developing these clients. Fuck that. I'm flying back tonight to be with my best friend. I don't want you going through this travesty alone."

"No, Jack. I appreciate your gesture, but it would make me feel even worse that this situation might negatively affect the firm. I'll get through this somehow. Just knowing you would drop everything to be with me means a lot, buddy."

"Fuck! Okay, how about this? Let me get Donna to come and spend some time with you in my place. She has a lot of personal leave time built up that she could take at her CPA firm and tax season is behind her."

"That's just like you, Jack. Always thinking of ways to help me out. But remember the fewer people who know about this, the better. The detective agrees with that as well."

"We don't have to tell Donna the truth if you don't want to, Micah. I'll tell her that Cindy has left to deal with a family emergency and not to ask you ANY questions. That way she can be there for you in my absence. For God's sake, Micah, let us be there for you!"

"The kidnappers insist that I continue working and not change my pattern. I knocked off early from work today to watch the video, but I'll be returning to work tomorrow. Besides, I'm afraid I would be lousy company for Donna right now, Jack. But I appreciate the gesture."

"Look, buddy. She can bring over some of her home cooking to your place in the evenings and be with you as a friend. Plus, she'll have her weekends free. It's either me or her. If you refuse to allow Donna to check in on you throughout this ordeal, then I'm flying in tonight, work be damned. One or the other. Choose."

"You're putting me in a tight spot, Jack. The work you're doing is too important. You stay there and do what needs to be done. If you insist on Donna meeting with me, then have her call me. I'll meet her for dinner somewhere and we'll talk. I admit that it would be nice to see a familiar face."

"That's the spirit, Micah. I'll call her as soon as I hang up. Dinner, huh? I'll tell her to finish her workday today and to be available when you call her this afternoon about meeting up tonight. I'll also ask her to take the rest of the week off to be there for you. Got that? If you don't meet with her, she'll just sit home alone wondering why you despise her. CALL HER, Jack." He ended the call.