Becy's Taen

I had processed my last transaction of the morning, and hurried to my car parked in the underground parking deck several blocks from the office tower where I worked in an accounting firm. I decided that I would treat myself to a long lunch after I made my daily bank deposit, and told my assistant not to expect me back anytime soon. Smiling to myself, I was enjoying the warm sun on the late spring day. I was glad to be out of my winter business suits, and felt particularly flirty in my new fashionable black sleeveless jumper, worn over a crisp white blouse. I wore sheer black stockings underneath the above-the-knee skirt, and they disappeared into my three-inch heeled black leather calf high boots.

I enjoyed the bouncing of my wavy chestnut hair, brushing the bottom of my shoulder blades, and reached up to adjust the white scarf that I had tied into a headband to hold my hair back from my eyes. At the end of the block, I adjusted the brightly colored scarf that was cinching and accentuating my narrow waist, contrasted even more by the wide flare of my jumper skirt. I subconsciously played with the hoop earring in the lobe of my left ear as I waited for the light to turn. I noticed the man who often was sitting on the park bench under the maple tree closest to the light. I always pretended not to notice his efforts to check me out while he averted his gaze hoping that I would not notice, but today I looked him directly in the eyes as he had gotten up and walked to the light, staring at me in what seemed to be a slightly agitated fashion. He was anxiously turning a large ring on his large right hand. I smiled warmly at him and fiddled with my mother's pearls peeking out from underneath the collar of my blouse. As the light changed, the man hurried off ahead of me.

Continuing down the side street, I noticed my reflection in the storefront windows. It was unusual for me to wear heels to work, generally being a firm advocate of the comfort of flats, and I was definitely aware of the added swing in my hips. And, I felt devilish wearing a skirt that ended at least five inches above my knees, such a contrast to my usual conservative accountant demeanor. And hoop earrings bobbing underneath my hair? I was a pearl stud kind of girl. As was my daily routine, I stopped at the mailbox to drop off the Company's mail, and pulled my car keys out of my purse as I crossed the street to the parking deck. I slipped past the toll booth and went down the out lane, walked to the steps and went down two floors to the third level where I had parked, which I always liked because it was never very crowded. As I came out of the door, I walked towards my car which was obscured by a van which had parked directly next to me. Looking down to select my key, I slipped between the van and my car, and reached down to unlock the door. My key at first did not slip into the lock. As I was stooping to get a better view of the lock since the van had obscured the light, I noticed that someone had plugged the hole for the lock with a piece of gum. "What a slob," I exclaimed out loud to no one but myself. "They couldn't even take the ti ... mmmmmmmmmph."

A large hand had been clasped across my mouth and an arm strongly around my ribs, just below my breasts, squeezing the air out of me. I dropped my purse and keys, kicking my legs in protest. Gasping for air, I tried shaking my head, but could not loosen the grip across my lips. In my thrashing, I noticed the knife in my assailant's hand, pointed upward from its hilt which was clasped just below my right breast. "Mmmmmph." I thrashed my head again, tears washing streaks of mascara and eyeliner down my cheeks. Kicking my legs, I knocked my purse underneath my car.

"Take it easy, slut," a voice rang out from behind me. At the same time, I felt myself being dragged backwards through the open door of the panel van parked next to my car. "You keep quiet, maybe you keep your vocal cords." I felt the knife slip up and poke me in the neck, the arm holding the knife now squeezing my breasts tightly. The man behind me dragged me up into the back of the van, and he again repeated, "Keep quiet, or you will lose something very dear, and I don't want to do that," pulling at a nipple through my dress and blouse. He released his grip on my mouth, and in an instant, he ripped a piece of silver duct tape that had been precut and was hanging from the roof of the van. My eyes widened before being blinded as the tape was applied over them. Before I could scream out, the massive hand had come back over my mouth.

The man swung around me, throwing me on my back and sat on my torso, pinning me to the floor of the van with his weight, my arms somehow pinned against my sides underneath him. Reaching behind him, I felt his free hand reach under the skirt of my dress which had risen up to my hips, and I heard a brief moan as he felt bare flesh where he must have expected the top of my panty hose. "Oh, please, you are something else," he croaked as he snapped the garter strap holding my left stocking. "You shouldn't have teased me like that." In another instant, he had moved his hand to my silk panties, and a finger slipped underneath slipping into my slit. I kicked my legs back and forth, trying to divert his hand, and tears welling up underneath the tape over my eyes.

"Mmmmmph. Mmmmmm." I felt the finger sliding in and out of me, and I felt myself getting wet against my will. "Mmmmph Mmmoo."

"Pretty slut, you know you want this and what I am going to do to you." He pulled his finger out and wiped my juices on my cheek. "An innocent woman wouldn't have gotten wet."

"Mmmmmpt." Shaking my head violently, I felt the hand gripping my mouth loosen slightly. Able to separate my lips, I spit into his hand.

Anger rising in my captor's voice, he yelled, "Oh, you bitch. You will pay for that." I felt him reach again under my skirt and gripping my panties, he violently tore them from my hips. My captor tightened his fingers on either side of my cheeks, forcing my lips apart. An instant later, I heard a rasping in his throat and he spit into my open mouth, followed immediately by my panties being wedged into my mouth. I heard a tearing sound followed by a rip, and another piece of tape was applied across my mouth, sealing in my panties. Another, and another, and another strip of tape followed, effectively muffling me.

The man now eased off my body, rolling me onto my chest, and he now wrapped what felt to be clothesline six times around my wrists which he had pulled behind my back, tightening the noose with a cinch between my wrists. He repeated the exercise around my elbows, and then slid down and tied my knees and ankles in a similar fashion.

"Mmmmm. Mmmmmmm?"

A sharp slap followed against my face from the backside of the man's hand, a large ring catching me and opening a tear in my skin. Weeping now, I was losing my will to fight, resigned to my fate, hoping and praying that he would be merciful with me and let me go. Why did I have to pick today to tell me secretary not to look for me after lunch? The search posse would not be activated until much later.

My legs were bent backwards at the knees, and my bound arms yanked backwards, and after another moment, my arms and legs were each pulled taut, sealed to one another. A blanket was thrown over me, and the door to the van slid shut. After the van started, I was aware that we stopped at the ticket booth. Trying to thrash about, I thought that maybe I would be visible to the toll collector, but a moment later we were moving again. Who was this man? Why had he taken me? Just taken off the street, like a sanitation worker spearing a piece of garbage. Was that all I was to this man, a piece of garbage?

We drove for perhaps thirty minutes, when I felt the van leave the smooth highway and start down a rutted road. After driving for another twenty minutes, I finally sensing us stopping, I heard the door open in the front of the van, and then the slide of the side door. My captor lifted the blanket from over me, cut the twine binding my hands to me feet, and lifted me out of the van. Next, I felt the knife between my legs, the blade flush against one thigh, then the other, and I quaked in fear. "Mmmmmmm!"

Instead of proceeding upward, I felt the blade slide down between my legs, severing the rope binding my knees, and then likewise freeing my ankles. "Don't think about going anywhere, slut." In the next minute, the tormentor lifted my hair, and I felt a collar wrap around my neck, followed by the snick of a lock behind my head. Trying to turn my head to the side, I realized that this collar was wide and thick, and my head was immobilized, my chin forced up and if I was not blinded, I would be forced to look straight ahead only.

Something was being fumbled with under my chin, and then I felt the tug of a lead from the front of my neck. I was forced to follow, unable to resist with my arms and hands bound behind me. Slowly, I was towed forward, my heels sinking into soft soil underneath me before I heard the click of my heels on a hard surface. After hearing a door open, I was turned to the right and again pulled forward.

"Stop right there, slut." Coming to a halt, the man magically had slipped behind me and shoved me in the back. I fell face first onto what felt like a bed, and I was forcibly rolled onto my back and yanked backwards towards what must have been the head of the bed. After another minute, I felt leather cuffs slipped around each ankle and my feet were being pulled away from each other, my legs spread wide, my slit being exposed since my panties were now residing in my mouth. I tried to clamp my legs together, but they were held firm. Next, in one quick motion, my arms and wrists were freed until I felt a cuff being slipped and locked around my left wrist, my arm being pulled down to my side and pinned against me as my captor again sat on my torso. Next, a leather cuff was wrapped tightly around my right wrist, and I heard another click as it was locked on. Each arm was pulled up above my head, then to the side. What sounded like rope was slipped through rings on my wrist cuffs, which was then pulled tight and secured to some fastener behind me. My body was now completely exposed, my arms and legs stretched into an "X." The next few minutes, I was left alone with my thoughts, contemplating my dilemma. And, I knew that I had no solution; I would have to acquiesce to whatever this man wanted from me. Who was he and what will he do to me? Why, oh why had he taken me? The silence was suddenly broken.

"Why did you have to dress like that, and look so pretty and sexy, swinging your hips? Why did you wear those heels? I thought you were a sophisticated classy lady, slut, but you had to become a tease. I could not resist you, slut, and you forced me to take you like this. But you wanted this, you smiled so sweetly at me, you taunted me with your dress. You asked for this, you slut. I am so disappointed in you."

"Mmmmmm. Mmmmmph." I was perspiring greatly, and thrashing against my bonds. Who could I have teased, who did I smile and flirt with? How could I get out of this predicament?

"Don't resist. Or is that part of your game? You tease, and then you pretend to fight me. Well, we can play rough if you wish." He slapped me harshly again across my left cheek, and yanked my hair, bringing tears to my eyes.

"Mmmmmmph!" I twisted and pulled, but my arms and legs were pulled tight against the corners of the bed.

"I will give you some freedom back, slut. I will give you your voice, but there is no need to yell. We are miles from help. I want to hear you beg for your reward. You will not get it as easy as you wish." My captor roughly pulled the tape from my mouth, one strip at a time, until the last piece was removed. I tried to push my panties out with my tongue, but I could not and started coughing. "Easy now slut. Those will come out in due course. Now, let me hear you beg for your voice. Remember, no yelling." He gently poked the tip of his knife underneath my chin just above the leather collar.

"Pleathf. Pleathf gmive meth my phoish."

"Please, who slut? Do you not honor your client?"

Tears streaming from beneath the tape over my eyes, I repeated, "Pleath shir, may I hath my phoish?"

With that, I felt the knife slip into my mouth, the point catching my panties and pulling them free. "What do you say?"

"Thank you for giving me my voice back."

A slap followed across my face.

"Thank you for giving me my voice back, sir."

"And ...?"

"And, and, ... I don't know ... sir."

"And, maybe try, 'what can you do for me', slut?"

"And, how may I thank you, sir?"

I felt something cold, moist and fleshy prod at my lips. I sensed my captor straddling my head, and I felt him lowering himself on my, forcing the object into my mouth. A moment too late, realizing what he was doing, I tried to shake my head, but my thick collar prevented me from turning my head. Tears streaming from me, I tried to speak out. "Nnmmmmmmm."

"No slut? You say thanks by saying no to my offering. You want this, you tease." He then rammed himself deep into my face, and I felt his manhood go deep into my mouth, slamming the back of his throat. He moved himself up and down, sliding his dipstick in and out, but not fully removing himself. A slightly salty taste was evident, and I lay still cataloging the taste, the sensation of my mouth being stretched, a thick popsicle being thrust continuously into and to the back of mouth. I relaxed and let the piston continue until suddenly, he removed himself with a loud pop and slurp coming from me. A series of warm sticky splatters plastered my nose, my forehead and my hair. I felt him wipe his leaky manhood across my left cheek up across my nose, a sticky stream left in its wake.

"Ma'am, did you like that? Would you like some more?" I could not answer, my chest heaving from my sobbing from fear and humiliation. I tried to shake my head in any direction, but again my collar held me straight. "No answer, slut? I tried to give you something you want, and now no answer? You are not only a tease and a slut, but an ungrateful one at that." Slap! My right cheek was now on fire. "Are you afraid now, slut? Do you regret teasing me like that?" Standing now behind me, I feel fingers at my face, and then a sudden rip as the duct tape is yanked from across my eyes, shooting pain as eyebrow and eyelashes are removed with it. My eyes take several minutes to adjust to the sudden light and from the tape-induced blur, and before I can focus, my tormentor has moved far beyond my visual range.

Left to myself for a few minutes, I take stock of the room and my situation. Indeed, I am on a bed, and lifting my upper body ever so slightly, as much as the slack in my chains would allow, I see that my stocking and boot clad feet are stretched taut, a black leather cuff with a ring bound just above each ankle over my boot, and a chain sealed to the D-ring stretched to a post at either corner. In relief, I am glad that I am still dressed, although my black skirt bottom has been forced up my legs by the "V" my legs have formed, exposing my naked pussy.

I look around the room as much as my immobilized head would allow. There seems to be few furnishings, except for an oak table holding some gear that I cannot quite make out, a roll of tape, some chain and some small padlocks. As I fan my vision out, I realize that I am in some sort of cabin, probably confirmation that I was no where close to help. I closed my eyes. A deflated feeling overcame me, a feeling of helplessness. Opening my eyes again, I tried to look around some more. My eyes widened in horror as I finally saw the walls, and the pictures on the walls. There was a series of photos, dozens of photos, of a woman walking down a sidewalk, crossing a street, entering a store. She was wearing classic clothing: a white blouse, patterned blazer and long floral skirt, a navy skirt suit, a green blazer over a below-the-knee black skirt, just like I owned. And understated shoes, black flats, low-heeled navy shoes. She was wearing her hair in conservative styles, no flirty headbands or floppy ponytails. And the woman in every one of the photos was --- me.

"Oh, my! How, who are you? How did you get these pictures? Why are you doing this to me? Why did you take me?" A man appeared, naked except for a hood over his head, a knife in his hand. "I told you, slut, you disappointed me. I respected you, thought you were a good woman, a classy lady, demure, and yet you flirted with me today, begged me to take you and to teach you a lesson. You want me to take you now?"

"No. Please no. I don't know what you are talking about, or why you are doing this to me."

He slapped me again and shook his masked head. "You are stupid as well. You want this don't you."

"No, sir. I do not want this." Slap. "No, sir." Slap. "Please!"

"That's much better." The tormentor picked up a pair of shears and approached me. He grabbed the bottom of my jumper skirt, and started to snip zigzag up the front of my skirt. Having snipped up to my waist, he stopped for a moment and spread the split skirt out about me. I watched him as best as I could, and laid my head down in resignation. Next, he went to cut through the sash wrapped tightly around my waist, poking my stomach with the point of his shears. When I flinched, he huffed, "Maybe if you weren't trying to flatter yourself by calling attention to your narrow waist." Scratching me with the point of the shears, he stopped and retracted the blades. "Better idea." The man reached to my side where I had tied the colorful sash, and untied the knot, followed by a quick yank to unleash the sash from underneath me.

I felt his hands on my thighs, and he brushed against my sex, sending a shiver through my body. He brushed again. "See, you are still enjoying this." I again felt him wipe my juices on my cheek. I now felt the shears resume their advance, and he split my jumper the rest of the way up the middle, a final snip just between my breasts. Next, he cut my two shoulder straps, my dress falling completely away from me. He poked his shears through an opening between buttons of my blouse, and cut at my cleavage, slicing my bra in half. I peered down my body, and I saw that I was now erotically dressed in my white blouse over my full satin slip, stockings and boots still on my legs. As the man stood over me, I thought that the way he was carrying his body looked vaguely familiar to me. His manhood was raging at this point, obviously turned on by seeing me humiliated in this position. His breathing had gotten heavy, and he seemed unsure that he would be able to control himself.

As if he noticed my recognition, my oppressor said, "Sorry, slut. You have seen enough." He picked up the sash that had been about my waist and placed it around my eyes, wrapping it behind me head and around the front on a second pass, before pulling it tight, knotting it, blinding me yet again. "The fear in you eyes was sending the wrong signal. You want this and are enjoying it, so let's not ruin the scene." I heard some rustling, and thought that he must be exposing his face. If only I could get a look to confirm my suspicion. But then again, I might never have the opportunity to use that knowledge. Somehow, this brief interlude seemed to give me some strength to resist, but it evidently also allowed my captor to regain his composure, as he went back to stripping me. Having picked up his knife, he slowly started slicing off the buttons of my blouse, one button at a time, teasing me with the suspense. He yanked my blouse open, tearing it at the seams as he drew it up my splayed arms. The point of the knife sliced the shoulder straps of my slip and bra, the taut straps of the bra exploding in relief.