The Adventures of Raika Élan Esq Chapter 4: Leela’s Ordeal

by Thanos

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© Copyright 2011 - Thanos - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+/f; kidnap; bond; rope; gag; captive; hogtie; tease; toys; climax; nc/reluct; X

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The Adventures of Raika Élan ESQ.: Hostage of the Year (Runner-Up) Chapter 4: Leela’s Ordeal

DATE: JULY 28TH, 2006
TIME: 9:00 am
LOCATION: Undisclosed Location, Kinked Wrist Indian Reservation

She could sense another one rising from deep within her. This would be the fourth. Or was it the fifth? A paroxysm of fulfillment besieged her nucleus accumbens. Born in London to strict Indian parents, Leela Rashir exploited the opportunity for sexual experimentation upon attending boarding school. A curvaceous girl with an ample bosom, an adorably small nose, full lips and dark inviting eyes, she attracted many suitors. Despite coupling with numerous partners, both male and female, she never reached an ecstatic state. Therefore, she lost interest in sex and concentrated on her studies.

Her academic achievements won her many plaudits and accolades. At sixteen, she left England to attend a prestigious technical institute in India, sharpening her study of information technology. Upon graduation a year early, she attended business school in the United States, eventually earning an MBA in Finance at the ripe age of twenty-three. Spurning extremely generous offers from Wall and Fleet Streets, she opted to work in the emerging market in Mumbai.

Presently, Ms. Rashir worked for an international hedge fund. Her specialty was programming super fast computers to take advantage of small changes in the markets for obscene profits. Her responsibility spanned the globe but she was based in India. For her endeavors she was well rewarded, she lived a comfortable but not exorbitant existence.

This comfort was rudely changed upon her abduction in the past two or three days. Leela had lost track of time through the various tribulations. Her captor’s various machinations had rendered her completely disoriented. It was an obvious attempt to wear her down to ensure cooperation.

Her disorientation was the greatest at this moment. It came from pleasure and not pain. A vibrating ball pressed against her clitoris. Two pulsing shafts filled her vagina and anus. The resulting orgasms were novel. Emotionally, it was fireworks -- such gratification she never experienced. Physically, Leela ejaculated. With each climax, a gusher of fluid emerged from her vulva. Needless to say, this was not her usual response to sexual stimulation.

Leela had used various sex toys before, but none brought more than minimal satisfaction. The difference may have been her position. Abruptly seized in her limousine, Ms. Rashir had been kept bound and gagged throughout her captivity. She lay on her upper back, inverted with her arms encased in a single sleeve. Her hips were gyrating off the ground. Her legs were attached to a “T” pipe set on a broad bench. Her feet ensconced in high heel boots that forced her feet into the “en pointe” position, the toes pointed like a ballerina’s. The backs of her knees rested on the cross bar. A large red ball, which she sank her teeth into with rush of adrenaline, filled her mouth. The obstruction’s binding strap notched so tightly it formed indentations on her cheeks. Totally vulnerable, powerless. And her captor took advantage of it. Her forced exposure heightened the sexual climax.

As her eyes rolled into her head, Ms. Rashir thought back to the beginning of her ordeal some two days ago, trying to logically place her current predicament. Ms. Rashir had landed promptly at ten. The consummate corporate mercenary, her emotions eroded with each commercial endeavor. Her frigid countenance augmented her professional authority. She was dressed in a cocoa brown pants suit with a starched white blouse. Entering business bitch mode, she exchanged her sensible airplane sandals for five inch Manolos. Overall, she looked very good for someone who just got off a twenty hour flight. She left the International Concourse and looked for Ms. Élan, angry when she failed to locate her attorney colleague. But Ms. Rashir did notice a man holding a placard with her name on it.

Ms. Leela Rashir, a British citizen of Indian ancestry, epitomized the word “cute.” Outside of work she had a bubbly personality. She wore her brown streaked black hair short and parted to the side to complement her round face. Her eyes sparkled during one of her rare smiles. Those same eyes appeared cat like and distant when she adopted her skeptical professional outlook. At five foot seven in stocking feet and a well proportioned one hundred and twenty pounds, Ms. Rashir turned more than a few heads exiting the gate. Leela had her suits tailored to accent her C-cup cleavage. She strode confidently towards the driver.

“I am Ms. Rashir. Where is Ms. Élan?”

“She is tied up at the office. She called our service to take you to your hotel. Ms. Élan begs your pardon and once she detaches herself from her present situation...”

“Tied up?! I don’t care if she literally is tied to a chair with a gag stuffed in her mouth! I need to speak to her immediately.” Ms. Rashir harangued the driver while dialing Ms. Élan.

“I need to speak to you right now. Call me immediately, I found a vulnerability in the software,” the imperious executive exclaimed to Ms. Élan’s voicemail. In an instant, a her right hand adroitly texted the same message to Ms. Élan, unaware that Ms. Élan was literally tied to a chair with a gag stuffed in her mouth at that very moment. The index finger on the other hand waived inches from the driver’s face.

Ms. Rashir, recognizing her futility of her rant in the driver’s dumbfounded mien, regained composure. “Very well. Take me to the limo.”

“Very good ma’am. Can I get your luggage?”

“Yes. Hurry up. I want you to skip the hotel and take me directly to Ms. Élan. The address is 79 Elm Street,” the computing maven commanded in her English lilt.

The man escorted Ms. Rashir to a black limousine parked in the waiting area. He opened the door for her. Abruptly, he shoved her in between the shoulder blades. The normally confident executive crumpled onto the floor of the vehicle. The cabin was pitch black and the tinted windows prevented any outside light. “Fuck!” exclaimed as she tried to get to her feet but another force prevented her from standing up. She felt fingers clutch her scalp and force her head back. When she opened her mouth in an attempt to scream, a rubbery mass stifled her cry.

She could not move her arms to remove the obstruction. Instead she felt treated hemp rapidly wound around her wrists and ankles. Her wrists were crossed and cinched in the small of her back. More ropes encircled her torso and legs. A blindfold confined her to darkness. A jaw straining ball gag blocked her cries. Ear plugs filled her ears. A padded leather hood with a thick panel gag strap was fitted over her head and buckled tight, completely eliminating her senses of sight and hearing. The tiny holes over her nostrils to facilitate breathing were the only openings. Strict cords wrapped her body. Soon she was immobile and she sensed herself being picked up and placed in a car seat. A seat belt was buckled. The soft car seat accommodated her bound arms.

Ms. Rashir the misfortune of sampling the talents of Bani and Giani, a most formidable combination. Aimee was fortunate to reach them on such short notice. While the pair attended to Ms. Rashir, Aimee placed her luggage in the trunk and got behind the wheel. She removed the fake beard that convinced the now restrained Gujarati of Aimee’s masculinity.

Upon leaving the hopelessly helpless attorney in her office, Aimee exited through the skylight and repeated her leap across the alley. She accepted the kidnapping assignment because if the computer scam did not work out, she could always obtain a tidy ransom. Once safely back on the street, and her hood repositioned as a hair wrap, Aimee summoned Bani and Giani. Fortunately, they were hanging out at the video parlor.

“B, is G with you? Good. Meet me at Elm and Fourteenth. Bring the limousine, the chauffeurs’ uniform, my disguise kit, and whatever you need to completely deprive a girl of her senses… That will work, but hurry. We have to get the airport by ten thirty. Two thousand dollars each.” That last promise guaranteed their alacrity.

Bani stood five foot ten and carried one hundred fifty five pounds of pure muscle. She once qualified as an alternate for the Mongolian Olympic wrestling team. A butch yet attractive woman with a serious expression, Aimee contracted with her when she needed muscle. A broken nose attested to her semi-professional mixed martial artist career.

Giani, a tattooed Korean sprite with a serious aptitude with rope, rapidly uncoiled lengths of cord and constricted the stunned and stunningly attractive Desi girl. Giani, residing in the States on a work visa, immersed herself in Shibari while growing up in Japan.

While Bani sat on her head and held her arms, Giani sat on Ms. Rashir’s legs and bound her hands. The tying pixie did not use more than a hundred feet of rope. Nonetheless, her rigging was consistently inescapable. Leela strained against her bonds, to the delight of her captors, who sampled a bottle of champagne celebrating their victory over the hapless yet exquisite computer programmer.

Bani knocked on the window. Ms. Rashir’s PDA was buzzing with texts. Aimee realized she needed to answer them. The address was from Elan and Associaties, someone named Holly. Aimee realized it must be Raika’s assistant. Her first victim had been discovered and she needed to give the impression of normality.

Holly: Landed?
Rashir(Aimee): In cab to Hotel.
Holly: Sorry about the mix up. R got tied up.
Rashir(Aimee): BS!
Holly: No really. Trussed like turkey.
Rashir (Aimee): Stop It.
Holly: seriously
Rashir (Aimee): “Have checked in. Face my wrath tomorrow!”

Aimee drove the limousine for the thirty minute drive back to her garage, a professional auto repair joint run by Bani and Giani. They ran the shop and repaired the occasional automobile. But really it gave them cover for their criminal activities. The garage safely closed. Aimee opened the rear of the limousine. She admired their handiwork.

“Nice Job. She can’t hear anything?”

“Yea the bitch is B&Ged by B&G! Woo!” Giani high fived her muscular companion, “Where’s our money?”

Aimee handed them each a stack of hundreds. “Put her in the kidnap mobile.” The aptly named white panel van, suitable for snatching prey off the street was parked adjacent to the limo. This van was specially outfitted to Aimee’s bondage predilections.

Bani unbuckled the girl and slung her over her shoulder, “Can I play with her?”

“No you two need to split for a while. Get rid of the limo. I have to interrogate this one. Put her luggage in the kidnap mobile, too”

“We can help!” Bani suggested.

“Sorry girls. I have to do this one alone.”

Aimee drove her charge to a motel on the outskirts of town. She opted for a room around the back. No one saw her carry the girl and her luggage into the room.

Once in the room, Aimee disguised herself with her hood. She dumped the tied bundle on one of the beds. Aimee removed Ms. Rashir’s hood, blindfold and ear plugs. She attached her knee ropes to her chest ropes, forcing the confused girl into a stricter position. The gag remained firmly in place.

Aimee started by going through her captive’s three pieces of luggage, slowly pulling out the outfits that Ms. Rashir had packed. She stopped at a leather suit ensemble, “Nice, I didn’t know you had a kinky side. We have to get you in this eventually.”

“But first the rules. If you follow them you will get of out this situation with a minimum of fuss. You are my captive. You are to remain bound and gagged for the duration of your captivity. The only time you won’t be gagged is for answering my questions or feeding. For thirty minutes every six hours I will release you to stretch and/or change into these cute outfits. The gag remains in unless I remove it. If you attempt to escape during these periods, this privilege will be taken away. Otherwise, when you are bound and gagged, I encourage you to try to escape; it makes this whole adventure more fun. You probably haven’t had too much practice being tied up. Although that leather outfit suggests you may have tied a few people up yourself. I will change your position every three hours or so, to prevent cramping.”

“You probably don’t know what’s going on. But you have some information that I need, in particular some passwords to these servers, if you tell me and I can access them. I will release you within the next twenty-four hours. If not, you may have to stay here longer.” Aimee showed the helpless girl a list. She also unbuckled the ball gag, copious amounts of drool ran down Leela’s business suit.

“Shit! Untie me, Now!” Ms. Rashir screamed.

Aimee quickly returned the gag, buckling painfully tighter than before. Ms. Rashir thrashed around in Bani’s bonds in a futile attempt to remove the gag that was biting into her cheeks. Aimee watched her struggle. Tears streamed down Ms. Rashir’s face, but she kept striving. After about twenty minutes she gave up.

Aimee stared into her abductee’s hazel eyes, “I told you that cooperation is the better course. Will you keep quiet if I remove this?” Ms. Rashir shook her head affirmatively. Again the ball gag was removed.

“Thank you, could you please untie me for one of those thirty minute periods? I would like to change into something more comfortable. It is very hot in this room.”

Aimee appreciated the change in tone. “I am not bargaining with you, give me the information.”

“Just start up my laptop. The log in is ‘Hanuman8.’ The passwords logins and addresses are located in a file on my desktop named Grocery List. In my purse is a random number generator fob. Type that number in to get through the secondary firewall.”

Aimee replaced the ball gag but not so disagreeably tight. Aimee booted up the laptop and retrieved the code. She started working on a laptop with a poorly disguised Latvian IP address. The passwords worked and she was into the designated servers. That step completed, she plugged in the portable hard drive stolen from Raika Élan Esq. The hard drive started to download its malicious contents to the server.

Aimee turned her attention to her ensnared prisoner, “It looks like you gave me the correct information. I am going to release you for a thirty minute period. You can change into a new outfit. You have so many cute ones. But no funny business or they’ll be hell to pay.”

Aimee started to undo the knots. With a twelve foot chain clasped around her ankle, her relatively unrestricted prisoner was secured to the coat rack in the room. Ms Rashir immediately disrobed to her underwear and started stretching, going through her normal yoga routine.

Aimee admired the lithe body from the bed closest to the door. “Are you sore, would you like a massage?”

The gagged girl assented non-verbally.

“Come over to the bed.” Aimee removed the gag, confident that she could swiftly silence her prisoner. She gestured for Leela to lay face first on the bed. The captor worked on Leela’s shoulders and neck.

The prisoner started to relax and adopted a blithe attitude. “You didn’t need to force me. Just give me a massage and I’ll do whatever you want. My employers pay me well but not that well…Do you really have to tie me up again? I’ll be good. I can do the programming steps for you. Can you use the chain or handcuffs?”

“Sorry. I am obsessed with wrapping rope around beautiful women. Also it’s my signature.” Aimee Rolfed Leela’s hamstrings.

“Your signature?”

Aimee moved to the soles of her feet. “To the trained eye, my ties are discernable. I do a lot of illicit things, but all of them relate to binding and gagging alluring girls such as yourself. The money is nice but really I can do things like this and they can’t fight back.” Aimee lightly touched Leela’s bosom.


“Part of the massage. The respite is over. Tie up time. Would you like to put on an outfit? I really want to see you in that leather get up. White ropes look great against a black background.”

“I wear that when I want to bully computer nerds. It’s still really hot in here. Can I wear shorts and a tank top?”

“You’ll learn to appreciate the cushioning a full suit affords. But pick what you want. If you’re gonna wear that, take off your underwear first.”

Leela quickly removed her underwear and put on her workout attire, retro style shorts and a white tank top t-shirt, both of which may have been a size too small. She remained barefoot. “Where do you want me? Can I beg you for more lenient treatment?” Leela’s eyes flitted coquettishly and she held her wrist out in front.

“No!” Aimee cuffed a shocked Leela, “Back on down on the bed face first. Hang your tits over the edge. Hands behind your back.” Aimee was finished humoring the girl. Her act of kindness had deluded her prisoner into believing that she could manipulate her captor.

Leela promptly complied, assuming the designated position. Aimee straddled her and began working. Leela’s wrists were confined in an instant. Seeing Leela’s previous display of flexibility, Aimee started pushing Leela’s elbows together.

“Will my arms go that way?”

“Yes it looks like they can touch and touch hard. This is going to be fun.” Aimee strictly tied her elbows. “You’re really begging me for more stringent treatment with your attitude.” Aimee and tied Leela’s ankles and knees. A chest harness was next. Then Leela was hogtied by means of rope from ankles to the harness. Aimee shoved a foam ball into Leela’s mouth. A string was tied to her toes and passed between her teeth and leased back to her big toes, which pointed back towards her head. The poor girl’s head was forced up and her back arched. Then Aimee covered her mouth with many strips of tape. Not content with this torture, Aimee attached wooden clothes pins to Leela’s nipples.

Aimee explained, “This is called a pretzel hogtie. I just want to let you know what a bitch I can be. I know from experience how hard it is. So you only need to stay like this for an hour or so. I should be done by then. After that I’ll let you rest.”

Leela’s relaxation dissipated. Her whole body was tighter than a bow string. Her muscles ached within the first five minutes. Leela’s reaction to the extreme duress was evident in the mirror facing her. Her face evoked that duress and surprise. She was clearly unaccustomed to such treatment. Any attempt to move resulted in sharp pain. She felt within an inch of absolute panic in the face of total helplessness. She meekly shifted while Aimee turned her attention to the computer. Leela’s stifled and anguished moans emanated from the gag.

Just when Leela reached the limits of her endurance, she got her second wind. By remaining perfectly still could minimize the pain and concentrate on the endorphin rush. After about an hour and a half, Aimee partially released her from this predicament by removing the most painful parts, the gag and the connecting toe string. Without saying a word, she fed the still hogtied Leela a cup of yogurt and pint of water. A smaller ball gag enforced silence after the meal. Then all of her bonds except for her wrists and elbows were released while Leela relieved herself in the lavatory.

Upon reentering the room, the ropes were removed and Leela’s hands were bound in front. Aimee then encased her in a leather full body bag for sleeping. The gag remained and was accompanied by a blindfold. She found the encasement comforting. Aimee softly caressed her leather clad body until they both passed into sleep.

The next morning, Leela was again put in rope and transported to a rat infested abandoned factory. Aimee seemed to be having problems with the program. She pressed Leela for answers. When those answers proved unsatisfactory, Leela suffered a series of tortures culminating in the inverted hogtie. Upon the fifth orgasm, Leela lost consciousness and Aimee opted for another tact.

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