**A quick intro:
First of all, I understand if this gets moved into the "fiction" section. This story is based on non-fictional events, and in fact a good chunk of what happens in this story is from non-fictional experience. However, these experiences have been "glorified" with a bit of fictionality in order to "spice things up". The big difference between the truth and fiction in this story anyway is that the captive was not drugged, and he was not *entirely* held against his will.
Another thing that makes this non-fictional is that the events of this story are actually ongoing as we speak. See, in reality, I'm actually the captor writing this story from the "perspective" of my current captive. Don't worry - he's in no danger, and nothing sexual is going to happen to him. However, he IS currently being broadcast live on webcam (is it cool if I say this, mods?), and if I'm feeling generous I'll let you know where to find him (over a PM).
On with the story:
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(PART 1)
I can’t move my arms, and there’s something in my mouth. I use my tongue to try to push it out, but something covering my mouth is keeping it forced in. I try to stretch my legs, but they’re stuck together. I’m lying on something that feels like a big pillow or a mattress…
I can’t see anything. There’s something covering my eyes. However, I can make out a bit of light.
I try to move my lips and my tongue. I can feel a big rubber ball in my mouth attached to whatever was covering it. I try to push it out again, hard this time. I push my tongue against the rubber ball and I try to force my jaw wider open. I can hardly get it moving at all. This…thing… is strapped all around my head, and it’s damn tight. I try to shake my head around to see if anything will come loose. Something jiggles on the strap behind my head. What is that? It sounds like a little metal… Jesus, is this thing padlocked on??
“Hmm! Mmmm! HHHHHHMPPPPPH!!!â€
A pain like a pounding hammer in my head makes me stop. It was no use anyway; I doubt anyone in the next room could’ve even heard me. I try to get up, but I instantly feel nauseas. It’s like I’m hung-over. Wait… maybe I am hung-over. The last thing I can honestly remember is (ugh… my head) being at the bar near campus… and then waking up here.
There’s something around my wrists. It soft and… furry, or something, but under that there’s something really sturdy keeping my wrists there. Handcuffs? Fuzzy handcuffs? Don’t those usually have a quick-release? I prod around the cold, surprisingly heavy fuzzy handcuffs. No quick-release. I’ve seen fuzzy handcuffs a couple times before, but none of them felt like these ones. These felt more like the handcuffs I had to wear in the back of a cop cruiser that one time in Toronto…
I can’t find anything. I can feel a big key-hole on both cuffs. I try to get them off. Whoever cuffed me, cuffed me tight. Not that it hurts my wrists since it’s not on like a damn vice, and the fuzzy material actually made them feel kind of comfortable (what a weird thought to have at a time like this... yeah… I might be bound and gagged and trapped somewhere I don’t know, but at least I’m comfortable).
Screw the handcuffs for now; I need to get this blindfold off so I can get a better idea of my situation. My head hurts like a bitch, but I need to focus and get this blindfold off. I rub my face against whatever I’m laying on (definitely something like a mattress… or a futon?). The cloth, little by little, is starting to come off. Every time I move my head, it’s like a bowling ball is banging against my skull; but I need to keep going. Just a little bit longer just so I can see where I am. Then I can take a break.
I eventually get the blindfold off. It slides down to my neck. There’s also something else around my neck, and the first thing I see when I open my eyes is a leash attached to me and a hook in the wall. Indeed, I’m sitting on a dusty black futon and there’s a lamp pointed directly at me. However, the next thing I see really freaks me out – I can see myself on a TV screen, bound and gagged and staring with wide eyes. There’s also a camera set up on a tripod pointed right at me. Is he recording this? Nearby is a computer. There’s a chat window open. There’s also a video feed of me being sent into the chat room. I’m being watched… by a LOT of guys. And a couple girls, too. But mostly guys. And lots of them are leaving comments that are making me feel really uncomfortable.
I look at myself in the TV screen. The thing over my mouth is a black leather gag, obviously with a built-in rubber ball. Whoever was keeping me here definitely had a good collection of heavy-duty bondage toys. And not only was I wearing fuzzy handcuffs… they were pink fuzzy handcuffs.
At least I have all my clothes on. But with the way things are looking, I wasn’t too sure how long that was going to be unless I escaped.
I can hear footsteps coming. Heavy footsteps.