Postby dreadnaught3200 » Wed Jun 16, 2010 4:58 pm
I feel like I should stop and address something, I never really intended this to be a "horror" story. Maybe, psycho thriller is a better description. I included the reference to Hostel (Which I've actually never seen) entirely as a psychological trick, which obviously is the underlying theme of this whole thing. (Oh Jason, by the way, I wasn't referring to any area in particular. But it's sorta like if you see someone's throat slit on TV, the natural reaction is to reach up and grab your neck. That reaction is what I was talking about.)
I also want to add, thank you for all the compliments! Makes writing this totally worthwhile. Now let's get back to the story shall we?
A smirk of belligerent triumph covered Lara’s face as she sat back on her bed and continued the movie. At this point, my head was too abuzz with thoughts to pay any attention. My sister, my one conceivable chance for rescue any time in the near future had left. What would happen when she found out I wasn’t at the hotel? Would my parents start panicking? What if they called the police and started searching for me?
I had to calm myself down. I had no chance of escaping if I didn’t keep a cool head.
After what felt like ten to fifteen minutes of silent agony, I looked over to my captor. (Or would it be captress?) She had fallen asleep. I couldn’t help but pile insult on top of injury. She had tied me up and was trying to force me to watch this horrible gore fest, and she couldn’t even be bothered to stay awake? Honestly! I suppose I should be slightly embarrassed by how long it took me to clue in that she presented me with a golden opportunity to work on my escape. She was asleep, and the noise of the TV would cover up sounds I made from Charlotte downstairs. What could possibly go wrong?
My chair was fortuitously placed ahead of the two beds. As such I started working with the soles of my feet to twist the chair around. The carpet on the floor made it a difficult process, but slowly and surely I started inching the chair away from sleeping beauty and towards Charlotte’s bedside table. I could only pray that she had scissors or nail clippers or something, anything I could use to cut myself free.
I switched my gaze back and forth from the floor to my slumbering captress. I knew so much as a squeak of the floor boards could wake her up and my plan would be kaput. Inch by inch, creak by creak I shuffled my chair towards the Promised Land. The drawer looked more reachable with every passing second.
Almost in reach, I decided to give my last few shuffles a little more energy… Bad move! Bad move!
The chair rotated too far sideways and lifted the two opposing legs right off the floor. I jammed my muscles to make myself as still as possible as my chair teetered. After a tense second, it finally fell right over, and I collapsed to the ground. My weight, as well as the chair’s all impacted my left shoulder, eliciting a yelp of pain.
“What? What the hell?†I heard Lara say.
The jig was up.
“Trying to escape again were you? When will you learn?â€
Lara grabbed the chair and yanked it strait up to its sitting position. She looked me strait in the eyes once again. I saw a fire within them I hadn’t seen before. I knew, this time, I’d have to pay the piper for my escape attempt. How much the cost would be, was still a mystery.
“Don’t like the chair do ya?†She demanded patronizingly.
I flared my eyebrows defiantly.
“Fine.â€
She dropped to the floor, and much to my surprise started untying my legs. Once my ankles were free she moved up to my torso. Pretty soon only my hands remained bound. Then, as quickly as she’d started, she stopped and headed for her closet. I had a bad feeling about this. A few seconds later she re-appeared, holding some kind of black object in her hand.
Suddenly I recognized what it was, if it hadn’t been taped by jaw would’ve dropped. She was carrying a 9mm pistol.
“I’m going to untie your hands now and take you across the hall. Don’t try anything.â€
I was paralyzed with fear. Tying me up, drugging me, both of these paled in comparison to being threatened with a gun. At this point there was no doubt, this wasn’t just a very bad trick. This was kidnapping.
Lara made good on her word and untied my hands. I did nothing, not wanting to do anything I wasn’t instructed to do, for fear of provoking her. She had a gun, I wasn’t taking any chances.
“Stand up.†She said quietly.
I stood, she took a second to gather up her supplies and gently laid a hand on my shoulder, pushing me out the door and across the hall to the guest room.
“Shirt off.†She ordered.
I was a little stunned.
“Hmmmmph?†I replied.
“You heard me. Shirt off. Now.â€
I did as I was told and lifted my shirt over my head and threw it on the floor. Without another word, she pushed me over and I fell onto the four-post queen size bed. She motioned for me to spread out my arms. I complied, spreading my arms towards the two posts at the head, and centering myself on it.
“I’m going to put this away now.†She announced.
Without another word she took her rope and climbed onto the bed with me. Taking one rope she looped both ends around my right wrist several times, before pulling both ends to the right head post and tied it off, leaving the knot holding the tie together a good foot away from my fingers. She repeated this process on my left arm and both of my feet.
There I was, tied spread-eagle to a bed. Possibly the most vulnerable position a human being can be in.
Still remaining silent, she went back to the table and picked up the gun, lazily walking to the foot of the bed. I couldn’t help but shake. Why wouldn’t she just put it away? She held it up around her face. Pointed it to the ceiling… and pulled the trigger.
I braced for a loud bang, but it never came. All there was, was a red dot on the ceiling. She lowered the dot to my chest and wiggled it around. It was a fake, all that was in the barrel was a laser pointer.
My head fell back as I breathed heavily in relief. She burst out laughing.
“You actually believed this was real! You honestly thought I’d threaten someone with an actual gun?†She chuckled. “Dude…â€
Once again, I suppose I should feel embarrassed. But at that point, I didn’t feel anything except relief. Though I was still her prisoner, at least I knew she wasn’t going to put a bullet through my brain. Though the possibility was still there that she’d make me wish she would.
She continued chuckling as she left the room. Leaving me to inspect my bindings. As I’d done a couple of hours before in the hogtie, I started struggling violently. Again it must have looked incredibly stupid, but I didn’t care. The b*tch had scared the life out of me, and seemed to be having a lot of fun doing it. I had to get away from here.
I pulled and struggled and squirmed for what felt like ten minutes. Nothing gave. Though it was strange, at one point I felt like the right bed post itself was bending. I guess I was imagining things. No matter. After a few minutes I was struggled out and just stopped to wait for whatever was coming next… Whatever it was, and I knew it wouldn’t be pleasant.
Or would it?
Lara returned, she’d changed clothes. Or more specifically had lost clothes, to her black silk bra and panties. I won’t lie to you, she looked pretty sexy. She had a purse slung over her shoulder and two glass candleholders with candles lit inside them. She placed the candles on the bedside table and the purse on the ground. She took nothing from them at first.
Slowly and seductively she climbed onto the bed and straddled me. Even slower she leaned down and licked the side of my head. My heart was pounding in my chest and my mind was going at a thousand miles an hour. What angle was she playing? I had known Lara for little over twelve hours, one of the few things that I really knew about her was: She was always playing some kind of angle. What could she possibly be doing? Lord knows she wasn’t doing this because she liked me.
It must be another trick. First she lulls me into thinking she’s a friend, I become her prisoner, she puts on a incredibly gory horror movie, making me fear for my limbs, let’s me listen as my one hope of rescue leaves, scares the hell out of me with a gun, and now this. She was playing with my head like rubber ball. I knew it had to end here. I couldn’t react. No matter how sexy she acted, no matter what she did, I couldn’t react. Stoicism was all I had left.
She continued moving over my body and slowly caressing my skin. I didn’t react. I just looked strait up towards the ceiling. She tried harder and harder. No response. I could see frustration slowly building on her face. Finally! All night I’d been playing right into her hands, and finally I was upsetting her plan. I pretended to fall asleep, and I could feel her rage radiating from down the bed.
She crawled right over me and looked me strait in the eye, as she’d done so many times before. I stared strait back, my stoical conviction burning inside me.
“Do you want me?†She asked.
I knew what I wanted to say. I started motioning with my chin, signaling for her to take the gag off. I knew I had her confused, she didn’t know what I was going to say. She was so confused that she reached for a pair of scissors in her purse and cut the tape around my head. She could no longer predict my responses.
“Lara.†I started, half whispering.
She leaned in closer.
“Do I want you?â€
She leaned in even closer.
“Let me think about that for a minute…†I said louder. “Uh no. I don’t do ugly chicks.â€
She staggered back in shock. I knew my response was uncharacteristic even for me. But now it was finally my turn to mess with her head. I’m sure at this point usually the guys she kidnaps confess how much they want her and she does whatever she does. But not this one. This one was different.
After a minute she raised her hand and struck my face.
“F*ck you!†I said.
She reached for the tape and aggressively wrapped it around my head again as hard as she could. She’d hear enough from me. She leaned right next to my ear and hissed:
“That’s how you want it? Fine!â€
She reached into her purse and grabbed two small objects, and hid them in the palm of her hand. She leaned over me again, looking down to my chest. She pulled one of the objects out of her palm and showed it to me.
Oh my God!
She was holding two alligator clips usually used by electricians. She stuck them strait on my nipples. The pain was unbearable. I started writhing and twisting, trying to turn far enough to shake the clips off. But between my bindings and Lara sitting on me, I could hardly move an inch. I could do nothing but feel the pain as the clips bit into my flesh and didn’t give a millimeter.
She climbed off the bed and stood beside it, staring down at me, and probably enjoying the pain I was in. While she didn’t know that I did indeed have bondage fantasies, torture of any kind had never been a part of them, and this was indeed, torture. She knew it too.
“How you like it now?†She said.
Amidst my struggling, I found it in myself to lift my arm off the bed and flip her off.
“Alright then.â€
She climbed back onto the bed, straddled me once again and reached over to one of the burning candles on the bedside. Fear gripped me. I knew what was coming. She held the cup shaped candle holder over my chest and very slowly tipped it over, dripping hot candle wax onto my skin. It burned like nothing I’d ever felt before. Each drop felt like it was liquid fire strait from hell.
Her sadistic smile crossed her face as she joyfully dripped the white candle wax onto my chest. She knew how much it hurt, and she didn’t want to stop. I knew I couldn’t scream or wail though. No matter what she did I couldn’t give the satisfaction of my pain. I had to be strong.
It felt like days had passed, drip by drip I was being consumed by fire.
Finally the candle she was using ran out of melted wax and she was forced to put it down and pick up the other one. Giving me a few seconds to breathe and prepare myself for the next assault. A few seconds more and the fire returned. I bit down on my teeth and clutched the ropes binding my wrists, pulling as hard as I could to stand the pain.
Again, it felt like the right bedpost was bending. I twisted my head up to it, and much to my surprise, saw it was damaged. The wood was cracked, maybe it had been bashed with the bedside table or the closet door one too many times.
As she dropped more and more wax I pulled harder and harder. Just praying that post would give.
By now the dried candle wax was covering most of my chest, and she was dropping it further and further up my chest towards my neck. It came closer and closer and closer until finally, the second candle ran out of wax. She was out of ammunition I still hadn’t broken.
Frustrated, she threw her arms up in the air and groaned. Then she stormed out of the room.
I saw my chance. I turned back towards the bed post and continued to pull. I knew it was bending, I could hear the wood creaking and splitting as I pulled, but it held strong. Taking a deep breath, I wrapped on the rope around my fingers and pulled. I pulled and pulled and pulled and then… suddenly… it broke.
With a loud nasty sounding crack, the bedpost broke right in half. Immediately I realized I had no time to stop and celebrate, they’d heard the split and were running up to investigate. I frantically turned over and freed my left wrist. Then I moved down and untied my left leg. One more to go!
I was reaching over to free my right leg when Lara came bursting through the door to see what happened. Seeing me, she charged as fast she could. I did the first thing that came to mind, I pulled back my left leg and kicked her as hard as I could, sending her flying out into the hallway.
Now, I should stop and say that previous to now it had been a principle of mine to never use physical violence against a woman under any circumstances, no matter how dire. But frankly… This b*tch had crossed the line!
As she staggered up to catch her breath I undid my right foot and stood up. I grabbed the duct tape from the floor and stormed towards her. As she finally stood back up, I threw my right arm around her waist and my left to her face as a handgag, and dragged her back into the room. Closing the door as gently as I could with my foot.
Fumbling with the tape in my right hand I pulled a strip off the role with my teeth and slapped it over her mouth, never letting go of her arms. With that done, I used both of my hands to grab a hold of her arms and pulled them behind her back. As she squealed in protest, I held both of her arms together with one hand and started sticking duct tape on them with the other. Within a matter of seconds, I had her wrists securely taped together. Showing no mercy, I flung her onto the bed and took hold of her feet, taping them together just as securely.
Keeping the tape in hand, I quietly opened the door and hid behind it. I was sure Charlotte heard the scuffle and was on her way up to investigate. Within a minute, I saw her figure pass the door and react with shock when she saw her sister tied up. I pounced from my hiding spot.
Within seconds I had taped her hand and foot, in much the same fashion as her sister.
I stood back and admired my handiwork taking a deep breath as I did. The two madwomen just stared at me, in disbelief that their victim had turned the tables on them. I noticed my shirt was still on the floor, I picked it and put it back on, retrieving a small part of my lost dignity.
Now what?
Do I call the cops on them and have them arrested? Possibly entering a long legal battle. Or could I just leave them there to face the wrath of my aunt.
I opted for the second course. Stepping across the hall to their room and reached into their closet and retrieved the three pairs of handcuffs I had come across several hours earlier. Back in the spare room I slapped both of the harpies into one of them above the black tape that already bound their hands. Next, not waiting for her cooperation, I lifted Charlotte off the ground and forced her onto the bed next to her sister. I grabbed the scissors from the floor and cut tape around their wrists, allowing the handcuffs to slide down to their palms. After tightening that set of cuffs, I forced the sisters to sit back to back and took the third pair of cuffs and locked the other two pairs together. Next I cut the tape around their ankles and replaced it with lengths of the bondage rope that had bound me for most the evening. Tied in the usual horizontally wrapped and vertically cinched fashion. Taking a third length of rope, I wrapped it around both of their waists and cinched it tight, pulling them even closer together.
I stood back. What else needed to be done?… Oh! The gags! Of course, those won’t hold for long!
I pulled another long strip of the tape off the roll and stuck it over the tape already covering Charlotte’s mouth, I then wrapped it around both of their heads. Not only reinforcing the gags but holding their heads tightly together.
Charlotte groaned indignantly.
Now I was done. Time to go home.
I started walking toward the door, but had to turn around. I met eyes with Lara one more time, I could see the fury in her gaze had not diminished. I walked up to my former captress until our noses were almost touching.
“I win.â€
With that, I turned around and left the room, turning off the lights and shutting the door on my way out. Those two would have a lot of explaining to do when Aunt Diane got home.
It had been a traumatic evening, but I couldn’t help but feel a spec of pride as I left the house and started walking back to the hotel. I’d been locked in a battle of minds and wills with an aggressive captor with a grudge, and had emerged victorious. I never really figured out why Charlotte and Lara had kidnapped me that night. Something to do with their own bitterness against men I guess. In any case, many years have gone by since then and I still haven’t had the misfortune of running into them again. Though rest assured, it was a night that I’m sure they, nor I, will ever forget.
Thanks a lot for reading everybody!
There's a permanent tension in music isn't there? On one hand you have three chords, you know, four four and three chords. Then there's the people like me, who say "Well, why don't we add a fourth chord and put it in five four?" - Bill Bruford