Abducted Ch. 01

Chapter 1 -- In Broad Daylight

Harris drives the van.

It's a common brown delivery truck, and that's by design. It has dual doors that swing out from the baggage compartment. We covered the windows with cardboard cutouts, held loosely in place by silver duct tape. That's by design, too.

Inside the compartment we lined the walls with thick, gray, sound-reducing rubber foam. We've nailed two more layers to the floor of the compartment, and a new cut of white shag carpet covers it on top.

On one side wall of the van sits a long, low-slung tool box, wide enough to accommodate two large men sitting on it, more or less, comfortably. Inside the tool box is a pile of various lengths of brown hemp and white nylon ropes; a few rolls of colored duct tape; an assortment of torn bed sheet strips, a few discarded rags; and, some, er, used panties (Chano contributed those. He says it's good gagging material. I'll keep that in mind, when this is over; there have got to be some 'kinky' girls who like to play with rich Americans, down in Costa Rica, ... )

Harris wears a brown uniform, similar to those of a famous international delivery service.

Chano and I wear black from head to toe. Black sneakers, black socks, black slacks. I've got a pullover turtleneck, and Chano wears a tank top, naturally, to show off. Each of us wears a black ski mask, and black crushed-leather gloves, as well.

I had the only electronic voice scrambler that's working. Harris thinks he can salvage one of the other ones. That sucks. All three of them were working, yesterday. I sigh -- never trust anything Made in China. It's a small problem, but, now, by necessity, I am the only one to do the talking inside the van, after Harris does his part. It should be okay; it's not a long ride from here to the warehouses on the waterfront.

I've got time to go over our 'playbook', one last time, before we go into action.

I've done some homework on our prospective 'guest'. I know that her daily lunchtime schedule is between 11:45 AM, and 12:15 PM. On Fridays, sometimes, she takes an extra half-hour to do some shopping at the lingerie store around the corner. As long as she tells her boss, then, that's not a problem.

She's pretty, and what's more, she carries herself that way. Most women don't know that that's the key, really, but this one? She's got the looks, the legs, the tight little ass, ... and she knows how to carry it off.

She's the type who always manages to turn a fella's head. And, some, like her boss, ... well, let's say she has a ring through his nose, anytime she wants to.

I also know that she's been working there long enough to have a authority, the kind that we need. To get done what we need done, we're going to need her 'cooperation'.

I even know that her first name is Elizabeth.

I review all this, as well as the mechanics of our plan, and everybody's role in it. I inform Chano about changing his role, explaining: "I think I might need a bit more muscle at the warehouse. She's small, and trim, but she's kind of a gym rat, probably stronger and quicker than she looks. You never know, but it pays to be careful. Harris, I think, blends in better in that environment. They won't notice him, as much, at least when he gets started."

That's fine with the boys, especially Chano. I think he wants to stay with the tied-up lady, once we get her, well, tied up. Chano is, after all, a bit of a pervert. Harris, I think, instinctively understands that I don't want Chano mucking anything up at the bank.

We park the van across the street, just north of the bank's glass doors. We can't miss her leaving for her usual Friday afternoon lunch -- Chinese, at Happy Golden's, next to the lingerie shop. It's only a few blocks up, and we're poised to intercept her.

It's 11:30 AM.

Harris let out a slow sigh. "Hey, Chief, ... what's it mean when your palms are sweaty?"

Chano laughs, "It means that you're about to come into a lot of money!"

"That's when your palms itch," I say. "When they sweat it means, ... you're nervous." Harris looks back at me. "You're supposed to be. You're supposed to have a couple of butterflies before the big game, ... keeps you alert. Just don't obsess on it, and you're fine. Remember, me 'n' Chano are the ones who have to get..."

She's early.

Out she comes, full of life, flouncing down the street with her white dress teasing those sumptuous legs, and without a care in the world.

"Chief..."

"I see her. Breathe deep, ... and go!"

Harris nerves were always good in the crunch. That's part of why I clued him in on this caper.

Calmly, he checks the rear-view's, eases out into the street, and then ... he makes a sharp left turn into the alley next to the bank building. He threads the needle -- the alleyway is just wide enough to fit our van -- and kills the engine when we pull out of view of the street.

He grabs a clipboard, slides out of the driver's side door, exhales, ... and squeezes out to the street, just as Elizabeth approaches.

"Excuse me, Miss," he said in the most becoming, non-threatening voice, "... but my GPS isn't working, in the truck. I've got to find this building downtown, they call it the Miller building, but I don't have a street address. Do you know...?"

She must be in a good mood. She must be pretty unwary, or maybe both.

Elizabeth smiles a pleasant, perky smile, even as Chano and I get ready to pounce. Then, she turns her back on the van in the alley-way, so that she can point out to the silly, befuddled delivery driver that the Miller Building is right here, right where she had just left the bank lobby on her way to...

... Our clutches.

The van doors swing open. Chano envelops the shapely woman in his massive arms, wrapping around her upper body, ending with a black-gloved hand over her lips! I hop down -- I wasn't planning to do that, exactly -- and gather up her long, luscious legs in my grasp. Chano pulls her in. I scramble in, behind him.

Harris slams the doors behind us. This, now, is the point of no return!

My face flushes with adrenaline! There's the risk of getting caught. The taste of big, fat money coming through, if we do this thing right. All mixed in with the sight, and the sounds, of the pretty lady that I'm about to tie up and gag, and the feel of poor, pretty Elizabeth's soft, creamy legs churning helplessly within my arms. Man, what a moment! Man, what a rush!

Chano pins her down to the floor of the soundproofed van.

I reach into the toolbox. And, I grasp a length of rough, brown hemp rope.

**************************************************

Just as I round the corner into the alley, a young man steps out of a delivery van and walks towards me.

He is young, thin, and curiously looks like an adult Harry Potter. As our eyes meet, I immediately like him.

He tells me that his GPS isn't operating correctly and that he is trying to find the Miller Building for his delivery.

I can't help but laugh adding one of my flirty little looks as I explain that he is parked next to the same building that he is trying to find.

He is the perfect nerdy and cute type of young man that I always find myself drawn to at various events or parties as they are normally shy and withdrawn making them fun to flirt with without worrying about having to fight them off at the end of the evening.

As I finish explaining how close he is to his destination I hear the side doors of the van slide open behind me and before I can turn around a very strong man forcibly grabs me from behind.

He places one large meaty paw across my mouth effectively restricting any sort of sound that I might attempt to make. His other paw finds itself across my chest. To be more precise he grabs roughly between my breasts catching his fingers on the balconette bra that I am wearing under my dress.

As he adjusts his hold, he effectively pulls my bra down just a matter of an inch.

If you have any knowledge of a balconette style of bra, it essentially acts as a platform for a woman's breasts and in the case of a smaller chested woman like myself; it creates the illusion of being bigger on top than I really am.

The style that I prefer to wear has demi cups that barely cover my nipples adding to the illusion of size, however when the bra is inadvertently adjusted downward, as this brute has just done, it serves to pull my nipples free of the fabric causing them to now push forward against the thin rayon fabric of my summer dress.

I can't exactly explain why, unless it is a matter of adrenalin in a person's system, although I suspect that it is something else, but my now exposed nipples have popped to life creating a very prominent protrusion against the fabric of my dress.

The darker skin of my areole's and nipples also tell anyone facing me exactly where they are located.

The brute just happened to place his adjusted hand right on top of my right breast and almost naked nipple.

The worst part of it was that now I wasn't the only one to be aware of his hand placement, as he immediately felt the hard pebble of flesh against his hand where he has trapped it by squeezing two of his fingers together.

I am being grabbed and groped all at the same time, and besides all of this I can feel this man's large and very erect penis pressed firmly against my lower back.

As I stare with abject fear and total disbelief into the deliveryman's eyes, a second man dressed all in black including a black ski mask comes from behind me and just as I feel that I am about to break loose from the clutches of the man behind me, the new abductor grabs my ankles hoisting my legs skyward.

I frantically kick and squirm to loosen his grip but essentially only succeed in giving him an unobstructed view of my stocking tops, violet colored garter straps, and my light blue nylon covered crotch.

He counters my movements by slipping his hands up my calves until he is gripping me tightly around my knees, which greatly limits the movement of my legs.

My frantic struggles only flip the hem of my dress well up my legs and as I now stare into the eyes of my new assailant, I am carried back into the open door of the van.

I swear that I have seen his eyes before, but considering my current state I have no time to reflect on where or when.

The muscular man pinching my nipple drags me backward into the van stuffing some sort of fabric into my mouth totally muffling any sound that I might be able to make and while the man holding my lower thighs maintains his grip, a strip of duct tape is wound around my head securing the fabric in my mouth.

This has taken all of the fight out of me as I now have to concentrate on relaxing and breathing through my nose, which allows the man with "those eyes that I have seen before" to wind a length of strong rope around my ankles securely tying it between them and in effect creating a pair of rope leg irons.

As I continue to watch in horror and fascination he takes another length of rope and ties my knees together, while the man behind me secures my wrists and elbows with other lengths of rope.

I am now completely and hopelessly bound and helpless bringing an unexpected tingling sensation throughout my lower anatomy.

At no time does either of them rearrange my dress letting the hem remain well above my thighs giving them both a fine display of all of the sexy under things that I had purposely put on for work today.

My very erect nipples continue to push against the thin fabric of my dress clearly indicating that my obvious fear contains a mixture of sexual excitement first ignited by the dream of bondage that I had had this morning before waking.

It is such a contradiction of appropriate and inappropriate feelings to have my mind completely overtaken by fears of what might happen next, while every part of me below my waist aches in anticipation of what might happen next.

As I sit bound and exposed on the floor of the van, the man with those eyes looks quite contently at my protruding nipples and very exposed legs.

The other brute, who is also wearing a black ski mask, just leers at me while his prominent manhood continues to press at the front of his trousers.

Within a matter of seconds the van takes off, driven by the adult Harry to what destination I do not know.

I think about trying to adjust my dress, but decide that I don't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing my discomfiture, and besides there is something about the one man's eyes that impels me to let him look.