The Wrong Abductee

Part I: Acceptance

I can't see; my whole head is covered; even my eyes. In the darkness I hear talking, but it is indistinct. My captors don't understand the situation they have put themselves in. I need to go home, take my meds, and do my exercises. I can't go anywhere because I'm tied, to my knowledge, a chair. From what I gather they used tie wraps, tape, and handcuffs. My captors definitely don't want me escaping. I keep quiet, because I'm pretty sure I'm somewhere secluded, but usually the best place to hide someone, or something, is in plain sight. My heart is beating too fast, and fear sets in because I'm afraid of the dark. Childhood was such a bitch to survive. I begin to recount the past week to figure out why I'm in this situation. Did I piss someone off, or am I some psycho's snuff fantasy? Nothing comes to mind, because I'm a lonely college student who used to be a lonely primary, elementary, junior high, high-school student. Hell, I'm still a virgin by technical accounts. So if I have enemies I must've made quite the unnoticeable impression.

I hear a door open. Seriously, a metal door? The squeaking sound of it moving makes me want to scream in terror. Yup, I'm a dead man. My breathing becomes even more erratic as I hear multiple thuds and clacks of shoes. I begin to struggle with uneasiness because sitting still isn't helping. I can't say anything because my mouth is gagged. The footsteps stop and I feel the presences look over me. The silence deafens, and my heart beats even faster.

"It's about that time." An ominous voice says. Oh no.

The covering is ripped off my head. My breathing is way too erratic. Then came a stinging slap across my face. What pain-filled scream I wanted to howl out is caught in my throat. Then another comes, and another. I am struck nine times before it is over. So, nine different people are here. Nine people are part of this fiasco. I feel my cheeks begin to swell a little bit. They laugh, they all sound female, but a little more masculine than usual. Oh God, please tell me that I've not been taken by a bunch of man-haters.

Next thing I know, my throat is grasped by a strong hand. Suffocation, really? The hand grips tighter, and more and more I feel like passing out. The hand releases and I breathe in as much air as I can. The gag doesn't help, but luckily all the breathing exercises I've done throughout these past few years help. Again with the laughter; sadistic and evil sounding. I try to calm myself, but that just isn't happening.

"Come on, let's have a little fun." The ominous voice said. No.

How long has it been? Where am I? Who are these people? Why me? Questions, a mountain's worth of questions, and no answers. One of my kidnappers takes out my gag. I cough a little bit. My mouth is dry and I ask for water. They splash it in my face. At least they don't want me dead, for now. I lick as far as my tongue can reach to gather up the needed moisture. The females, to my best guess, chuckle and swoon at my predicament. That, or at my elongated tongue that I was born with. Imagine my life as a child with a bunch of kids teasing me; calling me "Tongue Boy". Those thoughts came rushing back and the pain lingers for a while until I am splashed again with more water. That makes me scream out painfully because it is ice cold.

"Only a matter of time." Said the ominous voice. Stop it.

"Y'all think he's ready?" I guess I better start naming my captors. Guess I'll call this one Female-1.

"Ha! They are never ready." And that makes Female-2

"Yes, this part is starting to get boring." Female-3 says with impatience

Boring? This part is boring to them? Then fun must be...that is when I start struggling like my life depends on it. I grunt and groan to release myself from my restraints. My captors laugh so loudly. They barely sound feminine. My confidence and adrenaline begin to wane due to futility. As soon as I tire out I'm falling backward. I hit the floor and I wince in pain. I shake my head to clear the cobwebs. I am raised back upright again. Another nine slaps come in unison. My cheeks swell again and this time I feel a trickle of blood fall. They finally broke skin huh?

"Bring it." Said the ominous voice. Stop it.

One of them grabs my jaw. Her hot, minty breath feels my nostrils. Thoughts of biting or head butting come to mind, but I have no idea what my situation is, or where I am; much less know who these people are.

"I want your tongue out of your mouth, NOW!" Said Female-4. I hold strong for a second because she ends up choking me again. I open my mouth and release one of my embarrassments. I hear a devilish swoon from my assaulter. My tongue can reach down to my Adam's apple. She sucks on it and licks it. I hear the others whoop and holler. Another comes up to me and she grabs my tongue. A pitiful sound escapes my mouth.

"A toy so wasted on you." Female-5 says. This voice sounds familiar. I remember that time and language from somewhere. Before I had time to put time into my deduction I feel a soft ridge on my tongue. "And don't you dare use your lips. I only want tongue, slave." Female-5 directs. Her nipple, seriously? I don't move my tongue at all. Not that I'm scared or anything, but I'm trying to figure out who she is. I feel metal on the tip of my tongue.

"Either please me or have it ripped out?" Says Female-5.

I take in breaths and then I finally comply. I swirl my muscle on her nipple, being careful to not use my lips. She switches over to the other, and I continue my forced pleasuring. It's hard to discern between enjoyment and fear at the moment. At least she tastes clean. She pulls away and I put my tongue back in my mouth. It has been way too long since I put it through an exercise. My jaw is sore already. Well, I was slapped many times before as well. The next captor comes and sits on me. Her weight is quite heavy. I'm assuming they all are plus-size.

She kisses me. More like devouring really. I can barely breathe as she tries to suck what oxygen I have out of me. She releases and I gasp for air. My tongue hangs out; an embarrassing display to say the least.

"No more suffering." The ominous voice says. Please don't.

They taunt me-swearing, cursing, threatening. To be honest, I'm scared witless. I can feel them circle me and they connive in unison. I swear that I've been kidnapped by witches. My thoughts then go to high-school. Why does that happen? There was a girl who was into the whole emo/goth society. The chick literally tried to put a curse on me because I got into a fight with her asshole of a boyfriend, whom was cheating on her with a damn cheerleader.

They stop their unison chanting and there is silence. Fuck this; I ain't waiting for no damn demon to take my soul. I renew my spirit to escape. I scream with rage to be set free. I get slapped, but I take it, to resume my defiance.

"We are waiting." The ominous voice said. I stop on a dime. I remember now why I must remain calm. I breathe and get my emotions together. They argue among each other for a little while. I must've scared them, but that doesn't boost my confidence. They must've come to a consensus because their breathing has calmed.

"Look, I don't know why you all kidnapped me, but there has to be some mistake. I don't know you people. And I doubt I've done something to any of you. So, please let me go." A desperate attempt, but what choice do I have?

"So?" They all say in unison.

"What? You mean I was taken simply for the fun of it? This shit ain't funny!" I breathe with anger. I can't see, I've been humiliated, threatened, and quite possibly cursed. Even I have my limits with composure. My tirade had no effect because they snicker and chuckle at my predicament.

"The slave thinks he has a say. How funny." Female-6 says. Anger swells within me, it wants to be released. It wants me to take revenge. Then a slap comes. I howl out. Then eight consecutive ones. This again, this brutality. They laugh once again. I hang my head in shame rather than fear. Tears well up, how I want to go home.

"The man cries. If you can call it a man" Female-7 says.

I'm an "it" now.

"I'll show em 'it'." The ominous voice says. I say nothing this time because I feel the rage, I want to drown in it and make it tsunami over my captors.

"So ladies, what shall we do to him now? We have more than enough time to play with this toy." Female-8 says.

More than enough time? The last I remember before blacking out it was around 8:30 pm. What the hell? I feel like I've been here for more than half a day. I feel a hand on my crotch. Shit no. Please don't let them be into that ball-busting crap.

"We've researched you, you know? We know what you are packing in these pants. Sadly, 'he' isn't awake because you are too afraid. Maybe a little stimulation to wake him up?" Female-9 coerces The crazy lady rubs my penis. I would be enjoying this if I wasn't captured, but my dick thinks otherwise. I swear God gave man a second brain that lies somewhere hidden in our dicks.

"That's right. In fact, we have spies all over to watch you. We know how long you spend at the gym. The days you shower there because of the 'engagements' afterwards. We even know about your side job at a chip n dales club downtown. We even know how you masturbate." Female-2 says.

"You bugged my apartment? What the fuck is wrong with you people? What did I do to deserve that?" I ask irately.

"Nothing. We just want a toy to play with. And that medication, I bet you wouldn't want people to know you're not exactly right in the head do you?" Female-4 jests.

"They know, the jig is up." The ominous voice warns." Remain calm.

"Nothing to say? That's right, we can let out your dirty little secrets. But what we want more is to see that exceptional manliness." Female-1 says. That pompous way of talking; it's been bugging me all night, if it's still night. There was this girl back in my freshman year in college. I normally had earphones on to drown out all the noise from all the other dorm mates. I had turned it down a bit because I had a headache and I heard a female talk like this. I chuckled a little, she must've saw me, and started going off on me. From that time on for about a week she would make fun. I think one of the RAs became fed up with it and kicked her out. I'm better with faces so I can't really tell.

Whoever unbuttons and unzips my pants, their hand reaches into my underwear. Her hands are a bit cold even though it's somewhat warm in this place. The unknown begins stroking me. On a bad day, my junk is always half way flaccid. On worse days, it's hard to keep down. I don't know if it's because I'm a virgin or what. I have weird dimensions really, but that's not all.

"Oooooooooh. I believe it's alive girls. Come check it out." Female-4 says. She sounds playful. Probably one of those types who tortured bugs as a kid. That overwhelming presence again. I am surrounded and overshadowed. I hear sounds of amusement and excite. Random hands begin touching, rubbing, squeezing, and slapping. The mixture of pain and pleasure is nerve racking. I keep it together to the best of my ability. My rod swells. "He's" for all the attention, but me, I wish that I could at least see.

"So ladies, what shall we do with this thing?" emale-5 asks.

"I don't know. It's a shame such a delicious, and scrumptious piece of work is attached to such a weakling. Why was he blessed?" Female-3 says.

Yeah, like it's my fault that I was born this way. Most dudes would be arrogant jackasses if they have my size. Me, I kept to myself. I didn't want the attention or needed it. I am tired, I want to sleep, dream something nice, and stay in bed. With all the rubbing I begin to feel my semen build up. I breathe in and out to control myself. Then one clamps her hand over my mouth.

"I don't like those sounds. They are the sounds of weakness." Female-6 says with disgust. I still try to breathe through it. I think of other things but right now every dirty and humiliating act I want to try on a female is directed toward these shadows. I'm about to release, and then they stop. The rush sinks back into me and I exhale. A small reprieve until they start up again. They take turns stroking me; each one using a different technique.

"If you cum, you will regret such weakness." Female-2 threatens. They all chortle after that remark. It builds up once again and it's closer than last time. They stop once again and I catch my breath trying to keep myself from being beaten. I settle it back down again. I slump a little, but I sit myself upright again on instinct. I must want this torture deep down.

"There is an escape." The ominous voice says. No.

The third round and they do multiple hands at a time. The feeling is quite unbearable. Too many different types of touches. The semen comes closer and closer, and they stop, but they keep their hands still on my shaft. My dick flexes this time trying to shake off the feelinf cumming.

"Hold it or there will be a punishment." Female-7 threatens

I hold it down. It's getting harder to control. I haven't stroked in three days. I'm surprised I'm holding out as long as I have. They start again. I grip the chair to gain some sort of control. I just hope when all this is done, and I survive this, I hope I don't leave here with an s&m fetish. The feeling is warm and it stings a little. It's right there at the precipice. I hold myself together, the fifth time they have done this to me. They have trained for this. The feeling building up, the expressions on my face; they are definitely not rookies to this. I'm still able to hold it in. Tired I am. Who knew trying to keep a nut in takes so much out of you? My dick swells and jumps, asking me why I won't relieve myself?

"Come on. They are begging for it." The ominous voice baits. You may be right.

Talking to myself, not a good sign. The sixth round - they first start off pinching my nipples then flicking them. I hiss through the slight pain. Once the teasing begins they rub my chest and cup my balls. My breathing is like gasping for the last bit of air in the room. I begin to sweat. My dick jumps, eager to shoot my substance anywhere. The soreness of keeping the liquid trapped inside is painful. I've had enough, bring the punishment. I settle in and focus on the release. They must think I have controlled my nut because I feel them gather in front of me. If they would have researched me enough they'd know that every time I am about to let go, I take off my hands and just let my schlong shoot with reckless abandon. Blasting my cum is an experience that I love. Every flex I make to unleash is exquisite. I hear my captors scream horrifically and with scorn. I don't know who I have hit or where my milk splashed, but I'm sure I made my mark loud and clear. They scream and curse at me once more and I smirk. In comes a slap and I shoot off one last time. The kidnapper screams out, "My face!" Even though I know I am going to pay dearly for this, I don't care in a sense. I finally got to cum, it's been three days. My dick settles down, flaccid and sore. Their angry breathing has me alert once again.

"You fucking, insolent maggot!" Female-1 yells out.

"Prissy?" I instinctively call out. There is silence, deadly silence. I don't speak, I'm too into waiting for a response. After about another minute or so I call out once more, this time..."Priscilla Morgan?" I recognized the use of those words "insolent maggot". Back in high-school there was a rather chubby, but cute white girl who was into comics, especially super villains. We did a project together in English Class and decided to create a comic short of a battle between good and evil. Her favorite line was..."That's your favorite insult, 'insolent maggot.'" I hear small whispers, they must be talking about how I am correct. "And if I am correct, then,..."

"Shut up you idiot!" Female-3 shouts out.

"Exactly as I thought. Robin Cross. Priscilla's best friend in the whole world. More like sisters really." I deduce. Robin Cross, another white girl in high-school who was always around Priscilla. She was a tomboy who dressed like a guy, but was into guys. Weird I know. She has a mean left too. I had it first hand, up close, and personal with it too. Apparently someone had spread a rumor that I was being a jackass to Priscilla, and one day, out of the blue, in the commons; she lands a hook to my jaw. I was flattened, and became a laughing stock for about a week.

"Seriously? You two are in on this? Why? What the hell have I done to you? Wait, this can't be about..."

SMACK!!!

"Aaarrrggghhh!!!" I scream out in pain

"I believe you were told to shut the hell up." That one was definitely Robin, that mean left.

"He knows too much." Female-5 says.

"Quiet, he knows nothing. Grasping at straws. He hasn't seen any of us. He thinks he's so smart. Hmmmph." Female-7 says.

"That haughty arrogance, that prideful ego. Tabitha Vinson, or Tabby for short." I deduce.

"Wrong." She tries to hide her voice.

"Back in junior high you did the same thing. The attitude hid something so that no one would see. Inside you were a scared little girl. Well, not little, you were a little plumpet. The other girls were a bit jealous that guys liked you. You dressed nicely and smelled good. One day you came up to me in front of the class to prove you could get any guy, especially a quiet and lonely boy like me. I asked you outloud why are you scared about proving something you already knew and I guess you thought I was purposely trying to embarrass you." I recounted.

"Shut up. You know nothing you piece of filth!" She yells. And another slap and a choke this time. I breathe steadily, and I feel her erratic breath in my face. One comes to pull her off. I hear Tabitha screaming wanting to finish the job. I hit sore spots too much; it's why I stopped dealing with girls. When I'm on a roll I don't stop.

"Look ladies, we have to calm down. We are letting him get under our skin. All we need to do is not play into his game." Female-9 says.

"You're wrong. He's not playing a game. All of this is him. It's why he doesn't have a girlfriend and he's alone. Isn't that right, Kong?" Female-9 says.

"Please don't call me that. I'm not an ape." Some wounds from certain names just don't heal. Back in my old neighborhood, before my parents moved to another city because they both found better jobs, the name Kong was used a lot because of my irregularly, long arms. My lower half hadn't caught up yet and that's what I had to deal with. Nearly every kid had a name for me. Their way of seeing who is the smartest and coolest by being mean.

Denaya Ruddell, the leader of the group. Even when I was in my single digits I was an observant little something. One day I had enough and called out every child's weakness and weird attribute. The problem with being a child is when using certain words there is an evil type of innocence that makes others shudder. To say the least Denaya sicced the other kids on me and I was beaten up. My parents handled the situation afterwards. Sad thing is I thought about Denaya a lot after that. I liked her strength of presence and leadership.

"So, still making females angry because of that mouth of yours I see." Denaya says.

"I have tried to keep to myself. But you knew, it's why the rest have been so good in keeping their identities a secret. You filled them in with the right information and how to avoid being caught. You truly are a tactician." I compliment. She towers over me because the light dims around me. She rips off the blindfold. The others protest loudly. My eyes adjust to the lighting. They sting and I blink uncontrollably. The others I recognize immediately who remain in eye shot.

"Beatrice Garcia. Our mothers had gotten into it one day because yours said my dad was cheating with her, which wasn't true. You didn't like the fact that your Madre did such things. Going after married men and I'm pretty sure she was quite successful. Looking at you now, you definitely have her looks. Your weight class is higher, but that makes you unique." I compliment