Something to Pass the Time

by Jo

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© Copyright 2012 - Jo - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; kidnap; captive; cage; cond; enslave; bond; bdsm; oral; sex; climax; nc/cons; X

I pulled off the highway a bit after 1:00 a.m., went into McDonalds to pee and get a large coffee. My second wind had come and gone and I was beginning to fade. Twenty hours behind the wheel is a bit much, but I had only four to go. It was all downhill from here.

Back on the highway I got up to speed, set the snooze control. There was a car in front of me and I slowly gained on it. It was a white, 5-Series BMW. It had a sticker on the back window that said University Hospital Staff. On the floor in back was a girl, a Vietnamese girl. She was wearing only her underwear and she was bound hand and foot.

It was midnight, shift change at the Urgent Care clinic. Alice was prompt as usual.

"How's it going?"

"Quiet."

"Sh! Don't jinx it."

The doors slid open, a girl limped in.

"See?"

Alice grabbed a wheel chair, set the girl into it, and rolled her over to the counter.

She was an Asian girl. Cute, but he thought most Asian girls were cute. From what he had seen briefly when she limped in she had a trim little body. She was wearing a t-shirt and jean shorts. She filled them out nicely. Yes, God loves us - He gave us beer and denim.

The girl handed over her driver's license and student ID. Gail made a photocopy. She handed the girl a form to fill out. He stepped over to the copier and pressed 'reprint'.

Trang Nguyen (she pronounced it trahng new yen) when Gail had asked. He did the math. She was 25. She was 5' 2", weighed 120lbs, had brown hair and brown eyes. The license was for a non-citizen. He pulled up her student records. She was from South Vietnam. Eight thousand miles from home.

And she lived alone.

No family, no close friends, no roommate. Otherwise someone would have driven her instead of her having to drive herself.

Alice came out and wheeled the girl back to a consultation room. He cooled his jets, caught up on some paperwork. He didn't have to wait long. Alice has no bedside manner other than curt. Get 'em in, get 'em out.

The girl came out on crutches, her left knee wrapped. She hobbled over to the counter to sign more papers. Her tits bounced nicely with each awkward step. He headed out to the parking deck.

There were three cars on the first floor ramp. His and Alice's in the doctors' parking and nearby a brown Nissan that had seen better days. He thumbed the clicker, the lights flashed. He popped the trunk and retrieved the roll of duct tape from the crate. He opened the back door and climbed in.

Presently she came hobbling out. She went over to the Nissan, fumbled keys from her purse, got the door open, was wrestling the crutches into the car. He stepped up behind her, poked the needle into her shoulder.

"Ow! Hey! What the ...."

He caught her before she hit the ground.

He glanced around. There was nobody. There was traffic out on the street, but the parking deck walls shielded him. There were security cameras, but they all pointed at the various entrances.

He hefted the girl, carried over to the B, flicked the back door open, and shoved her in. He climbed in after her.

He pulled her t-shirt off, ran his hands over her chest. The bra wasn't padded. The tits were real. He tugged off her trainers and socks, unzipped and removed her shorts.

He taped her ankles, taped her knees. He rolled her onto her stomach, clenched her fingers and taped her fists into balls, then he wrapped the tape around her wrists. He rolled her onto the floor, pressed a couple of lengths of tape across her mouth, a couple more over her eyes.

He gathered her clothes, walked over to her car, drove it up to the next level. There were always a few cars parked on the upper levels and no one would notice it. He'd come back later and drive it to her apartment.

He walked down to the B and drove out of the deck.

This would make number five. The last one he'd come across had been passed out drunk after a football game. How convenient. Nice thing about working for the school, there was no shortage of young women available.

It didn't take long to break her. The Stockholm Syndrome was alive and well in his basement. A bit of fear, a bit of need, and soon she was wholly reliant on him and very compliant. He never hurt her, never hurt any of them. But he put the fear into them. They soon believed that survival depended on keeping him happy. Truth be told, if one had rebelled, he'd have let her go. But none did.

At first, he kept them in a cage, a heavy, metal thing about three feet on a side. There was a table that he'd turned into a makeshift rack, an electric hoist on the ceiling, a metal-frame bed in the corner. Once they'd been trained they got to sleep chained to the bed. There was a toilet and sink in another corner.

In the morning he'd bring down a tray of food, they would slip out of bed, kneel, and suck him off. That was the deal - sex for food. The better behaved they became, the better the food he gave them. Later in the day he'd fuck them before dinner and maybe again when he got off work.

He was never violent, not even harsh after the first few days. But he was stern, this is the way it was, disobedience was not an option.

He never tortured them, but he did torment them. The bondage was strict, the wax was hot, but not burning hot, the caning hard enough to make them squirm - and the toys. He was very creative about the ways he used their mouths, pussies, and asses. He was a doctor after all. He knew how to 'enhance' the experience.

The only downside was the mask. Either he wore the mask or the girl wore a hood. Usually it was the mask because he liked to see the look in their eyes. The hood he used more initially to enhance the feeling of helplessness and isolation in them.

Every once in a while one of them would act up, then it was back in the cage and the hood and lousy food. It never happened more than once.

Number four lasted a month. Grabbing them, training them, that's what he enjoyed. Once they were compliant the thrill wore off. Not right away, but within a couple of weeks, so he had let her go, drugged her and left her on campus in a place she would be sure to be found.

And now he had Trang. Now Trang might be another story. He liked Asians - really liked Asians. She might provide the inspiration to motivate him to find more creative ways to enjoy her.

I eased past the BMW as it slowed to take the exit.

"Have fun."

Up ahead was a small, yellow panel truck, one of those Penske move-yourself deals. This was the baby of the fleet, but it was big enough. The guy didn't have to move much. Wasn't moving anything actually. He was a courier. He was delivering expensive cargo to a collector of sorts.

From the ceiling in back hung twelve sacks. In each sack was a naked girl. Each had their wrists bound to their ankles. Each was gagged.

There was a Swede, a Brit, a Greek, an Arab, an Indian ...

 

28.06.12