Dungeon Slave

I’ve been working for the F.B.I. now for seven years, dealing with kidnappings. It’s surprising how often it happens. There are approximately 17,000 cases per year in the U.S. ; that's about 50 people being kidnapped every day.

I work mostly with testimonials; listening and taking notes directly from the abductees themselves. For the most part, I record what is reported and organize it into detailed reports for the certain departments that require the information.

Most of the investigators who work here are not experienced enough, or just can’t ask the questions that are needed to bring out the best results. They don’t have the capability to bring out the trust in a person who has been mentally and physically abused. Mostly they don't have the stomach for it. I am able to keep my job owing to my stoicism in dealing with the very often gruesome details; the colleagues I work with on an every day basis know that I’m good. They appreciate my ability for bringing out the best results in any given situation. What they don’t know is that I actually like what I do.

Case number: KF215973 Name: Denise Joan McThaniel.

Once a kidnapped person is found, we need to bring them in to testify while their memory is still fresh.

The state pushes for quick psychological treatment and assessment; after the shrinks are done with them they’ve personalized everything that they went through. This makes them focus on how they feel about what happened, and usually deludes their memories of what really happened.

Sometimes the psychology actually helps to get through some mental blocks, unlocking what their minds won't let them remember. Though I would argue that the repressed memories never come out clean.They’re partial and filled with fiction that they use to complete a memory they can never completely recover.

Denise disappeared when she was 23 years old; she was living and working in L.A. California. Her car had been discovered near a coffee house that she was known to frequent. Five months after she disappeared, she was found naked, walking down an interstate in Arizona.

She entered the room where I was waiting from the lobby; a blank look glazing her eyes.

Denise turned out to be a generally pleasant looking tall, thin brunette. She was wearing a black skirt and a blue flower print blouse with a v-neckline; revealing her cleavage. Old scars lined the top of her breasts and her hair was very short, it was only an inch or two long at most. It looked like the kind of cut they give military boys when they enlist, still, it worked for her.

I could tell that it was an old work outfit from before she was abducted; it being somewhat loose on her. It’s common for someone to lose weight when kept in isolation for long periods of time.

There were scabs on her neck and wrists; cuts and scrapes visible on the bare skin which was showing. She sat down with poise and good posture, not even a glance at me when she took off her sunglasses.

"Good afternoon Miss McThaniel. My name is Agent Michael Allen. Do you know why you’re here?" I asked.

She responded quickly and clearly, "Yes, you’re going to question me about the kidnapping."

"Would you like anything before we begin?" I asked.

"No, thank you Mas.. " She stopped short of finishing the sentence before continuing, "No, thank you Mr. Allen." She cringed slightly.

"Don’t hesitate to ask if you want anything during the interview; food or water, a break perhaps." As I turned the tape recorder on, I kept my voice even and without much emotion as I continued, "Do you remember being abducted?"

"Yes." She responded, looking at me. "I remember it well." As I met her eyes for the first time I saw that she had been left with another cruel mutilation. A pair of scar lines slicing straight down the middle of each eye, from just above her eyebrows to an inch beneath the eye. Her black pupils were deep with suffering. Mercifully, she had not been blinded.

"Tell me what happened on the day you were kidnapped." I asked.

"I was walking towards my car when he came from behi.."

I cut her off in mid speech. "Tell me what happened during that day, leading up to the attack." I instructed her as I picked up her medical report.

Photos had been taken of her entire body. For the amount of abuse written on her skin she still had an undeniable beauty.

"Yes sir. I was working that day. I had a job at the Del Taco office building; I was in advertising. I had long styled hair, with highlights. I was the picture of commercial beauty. Everyone loved me at work, the men hovered around my desk every day. I gracefully turned down all of their advances, my career was the only thing I cared about.

I got off work at 6p.m. and drove to Long Beach. Im an alumni at CSULB. I used to go to a coffee shop in the city, to study.

After graduating from college, I would still sometimes go there. I had always been comfortable with the casual, drowsy feel of the place.

`Not having a date or anything else to do that night, I went to the coffee shop to read a book; ‘The Postman,’ I think it was. That's another book that's just so much better than the movie. Of course they always are.

I knew a few of the regulars there, among them was a guy named Rich who had always wanted to go out with me. He had made a lot of money working as a lawyer, (I think that he thought I would be impressed) and talked with me about it for a while. It was not very exciting at all, mostly personal injury cases. He did tell funny jokes though. As he talked about work, I drank my coffee and stayed until about 10p.m., closing time."

Turning her head to the side, Denise lay her head down on the table, sighing. "And that was ‘Portfolio’ the coffee shop?" I enquired.

"Yes sir." She confirmed, raising her head and nodding.

"Go on." I prompted.

"I was the last person to leave because Rich kept me talking outside for half an hour. I told him that I had to work the next day and told him goodnight. He asked me if I wanted him to walk me to my car, I told him I’d be fine and said no. He got into his car, waved and drove away.

Long Beach is a very dark city at night; I had never had a problem before, but I began to think that maybe I should have taken him up on his offer.

I started walking to my car, a little more shaky from all the coffee I had. The light was dim, I hoped that all of the shadows would keep to themselves.

I never heard anything or sensed anyone behind me until the last moment. Turning around, I saw a man wearing a dark black or blue mask. He was wearing an orange T-shirt that tightly gripped his chest, revealing how strong he was. His pecks popped out in between his sinuous shoulders and arms.

He pointed a silver gun at me and growled "Shut up or die. Turn around." My heart leapt out of my chest. My worst nightmare was happening. I could barely breath.

I did what he told me to. He grabbed my hands and duck-taped them. He did it really hard so that my wrists hurt, twisting them. I asked what he wanted, but he taped my mouth closed. I started crying and screaming through the tape. He put his mask on me back to front so that I couldn’t see a thing at first.

We had probably walked only about twenty feet when I heard a car door being opened.

I could see enough through the cloth to tell that it was a dark colored van. He threw me into the back of it; it had thick padding with no windows and it was separated from the front.

Once inside the van, he taped my feet together and coldly whispered, "From this moment on your name will be ‘Bitch.’" Before getting out and closing the door, he grabbed my breasts and pinched my nipples. He laughed at me. He seemed very pleased.

The car started moving but I couldn’t hear the engine; it was like being en-caved. I think it was soundproofed. I don’t know how long I was in the van. I was awake for a long time before I finally faded."

"Go on. What happened when you woke up?" I prompted

"I woke up to find myself half naked, legs held up near my head and my hands tied behind my back; a pair of leather underwear on me. There were dildos attached inside; one was in my vagina, the other in my ass. They were big and gosh, it hurt to have both of them in me like that.

I was also gagged with a leather strap that had a short, thick dildo in my mouth. I was groggy and my legs hurt because of the way they were positioned.

It was so cold that I had goose bumps. I noticed that my hair had been cut short. I was in a basement, dangling from the ceiling in a netted leather harness. Looking down, I was about thirty feet up and hung almost ten feet from the ceiling. The room was a cube; forty feet at each angle. The only illuminations were thick blue neon lights that lined every corner.

I was in his dungeon of depravity, and I was not imprisoned alone.There were others hanging from the ceiling too, one man and two women. They were also naked and more or less bound the same way as I. They were all attractive people by the looks of it. One of the women was a blond, the other had brown hair. The guy was a blond and very well toned.

The others saw that I was awake and shook a little in their bonds. I took it as a kind of greeting. I shook myself to signal back. We stared at each other for a while; I saw that they had red marks and scars on their bodies.

When I looked below, I saw some furniture and one door. There were cameras on all the walls in the room, pointing up and down. Ten foot long movie posters; like military banners were hung all around the room. Amongst them was a porno poster called ‘Blood and Leather.’ I also recognized ‘Silence of the Lambs’ and ‘Natural Born Killers.’

I heard the door unlock and a white man entered. He was wearing a black leather outfit; his penis sticking out of the crotchless pants. He seemed to be of the same build as the man who grabbed me and was holding a remote in one hand, a whip in the other.

His hair was short and brunette.

I started to come down when he pointed the remote up at me. He undid my bonds when I got to him and I pulled the gag out of my mouth, coughing. He watched me as I unplugged the dildos out of myself; the texture was mercifully moist as they came out. It felt like they had been lubricated. My limbs were like concrete, getting them flat on the ground felt like my tendons were going to tear. I looked up at him with fear and wonder at what nightmare I had been taken to. I asked him where I was.

"This is your new home, Bitch. Now turn around," he said.

"No!" I screamed. I started to stand up and tried to punch at his exposed groin.

He easily fended off my attack; He twisted my wrist and backhanded me hard across the face. I was weak and fell to the ground.

"Bitch, do not disobey. Now you must be punished to show the others what not to do. I’m gonna hurt you now Bitch because you’ve forced me to." He was yelling at me, but he didn't seem angry, just... authoritative.

His dick was getting hard; it was big. He smashed me in the face again, puffing up my eye. Then he jumped on me and pushed me onto my stomach. He bound my hands in front with thick handcuffs that had little blinking lights on them and then he pulled me up.

"Please, no!" I yelled, flailing with all my strength, mad with fear.

He carried me over to the wall where he clipped my cuffs to the attachments on the wall, placing me with my back to it. My voice was shaking, " No, no. This isn't happening. please don't do this please! I make a lot of money, you can have it all. I'll give it to you! I'll give you anything you want." I couldn't control my sobs, tears flowed freely down my face.

He smirked, and laughed at me, " I don't care about money. I have more than I could ever spend, and I've already taken what I want from you, ... almost everything. I'll get to the rest before long. "

He took the whip off his belt and snapped it in the air, making a loud cracking sound; like a firework next to my ear. A big red welt stood up in a line across my chest as he lashed me with it. It was like he had cut a hole through my chest. I writhed in my bonds. He smiled evilly and rubbed his hard penis, pumping it. He slapped his thigh and cut another line into my stomach. I yelled bloody murder.

I was covered in sweat, and it ran into the raw marks, stinging. I screamed out, "Please, I’ll do what you want, please!"

Ignoring my pleas, he continued to whip me. I pulled at my cuffs and stretched away from the wall; as I was standing slightly sideways another lash marked my delicate flesh across my side. That one drew blood.

He said sternly, " Bitch, stay still and accept your punishment." Shaking, I tried my best to comply. I closed my eyes.

He had whipped me five times before he finally stopped and walked over to me against the wall.

Smiling wickedly as he came towards me he hissed, "You will address me as Master and you are not allowed to speak unless I ask you a question. Is that understood?"

I had been crying the whole time that he had been whipping me. I was still crying as I tried to answer through my sobs, "Yes Master, oh my dear God yes!"

He looked at me and said, "You know, this doesn’t have to be the worst experience for you. In fact, if you behave nicely now this could turn out to be quite exquisite. I am pleasure or pain, you decide which." He had the physique of a gymnast and was a very fit man. I could tell when he rubbed his body up against mine.

I hated him. He made me wince as he traced his fingers over my welts, his dick on my thigh. Straining against my bonds, I could feel myself becoming moist and a part of me started to enjoy the sensation of his hand sliding down to my vagina. He started rubbing me there with his fingers; he was very skilled. I didn't want him to touch me, but it was much preferable to the alternative. I felt myself giving in, there was nothing else I could do. He parted my labia exposing my clitoris to the cool air. It perked up to his caress.

Looking me in the eyes he teased, "Do you like that, Bitch?"

Not wanting him to hurt me anymore and at the same time unable to avert my eyes from his dick I moaned, "Yes Master."

He kissed me on the mouth and through his lips, he whispered, "Be honest with me Bitch, you don’t have to lie. Disobeying me will only bring you more punishment."

I hesitantly replied, " I don't like my choices, but this feels better than the alternative Master."

He nodded, then his face came close to mine and he circled my lips with his tongue, wetting it and delighting my nerves. His free hand floated down my back and glided around my butt. He stuck his tongue in my mouth and I sucked on it lightly.

In my mind he was becoming a different person. Instead of my torturer I fantasized that he was my love. I had to, to deal with what was happening.

Releasing me from the restraints that had kept me upright against the wall; he grabbed me by the hair and pushed me down onto my knees. Pushing my face into his crotch he breathed, "You’re going to suck me now Bitch."

Taking his dick into my mouth and trying not to choke I moaned, "Yes Master."

He knew that I was starting to gag but he was relentless; pushing into my mouth harder all the way into my throat. I grabbed his bare ass, squeezing it to take my mind of my gag reflex.

Pulling himself out, he yanked me to my feet and bent me over the back of the nearby couch, my ass naked and vulnerable before him.

Spreading my legs wide, he placed the head of his cock on my anus. I felt something cold on my asshole that dripped down my leg. He rubbed the lube around and in my ass with a finger. He plunged in without warning blasting my sphincter wide. He started to fuck me hard. I’d never been fucked in the ass before and it hurt like hell. He pulled my hair, jerking my head backwards. I wanted to scream for him to stop but I didn't, not wanting to be punished for speaking.

He moaned, "I love your nice tight ass. Tell me to fuck your ass hard Bitch!"

His dick was so hot; he seemed to be ripping me apart, bruising me deep inside.

I caught my breath and said, " Fuck my ass hard Master! Cum in my ass!"

He roared loudly as he came; his cock still embedded in me as he tried to get his breath back.

Trembling now after his onslaught, I obeyed when he ordered me to sit on the couch. It was blue plastic and it felt cold, making me shiver. I felt weird; his cum seeping out of my ass, sticking me to the plastic beneath me. My anus throbbed and gaped open.

Recovering his breath, he ordered, "Whenever I tell you to do something I want you to reply 'Yes Master'. Now, spread your legs Bitch."

I obeyed replying, 'Yes Master' once again. I opened my legs to him spreading my pussy wide. Its engorged lips were opened like a tropical flower.

I was already turned on as he got down on his knees and began to lick my thighs and work my clit with his tongue. In spite of myself, I groaned, 'Yes Master'. He started caressing my breasts, massaging them and softly pinching my nipples. He looked up from between my wide open legs and smiled that evil grin again; once more returning to lap my clit in tantalizing circles."

I could see the sweat beading up on her cleavage. She was reliving her story like most people never do, but I for one was certainly not about to stop her.

Encouraging her I said, "Go on Denise, you’re doing extremely well."

She continued, "I could sense that he was hard again. He pulled me up and pushed me lengthwise on the bed next to the couch, crushing me beneath his weight. He pulled off his vest, laying his hard chest against mine.

He put his cock in slowly, its head pushing me open. He was much thicker than any man I had ever been with. He started fucking me slowly now; wanting me to enjoy it, waiting for me to cum. I arched myself up and pulled him towards me as he plunged his dick in and out in rhythm. It felt so good inside that I wanted him to do it to me harder and faster.

He yelled out, "You like this now, don’t you Bitch."

"Yes Master! I screamed out, feeling him slam so hard into me. The slapping sounds were urging me on, enticing me. Our sweat had mingled and stung the welts that crisscrossed my chest.

I came so hard when he spurted deep into me again. I felt sickened. He had made me cum with a passion and intensity than anyone before him ever had."

Denise opened her eyes and looked at me, embarrassed.

After clearing my throat I managed to say, "Please continue Denise. No one’s judging you here."

She thanked me.

"After he was done with me I pleaded with him to let me go home, that I wouldn’t tell anyone. I just simply wanted to go.

He stared at me and told me never to ask him that again."

Denise looked at me again with a new shine in her eyes; those same eyes that only a few moments earlier had been so dull before the interview.

"I’d like to go now Mr. Allen." she said.

I nodded, "Of course my dear, please make an appointment with my secretary for tomorrow. All the personal details that you have just related to me will not go to waste, you were most helpful. You’d be surprised at the evidence we can uncover from such intimate descriptions... very often leading us to making an arrest."

"Really?" she asked as she stood to leave.

"I think I know the reason why he doesn’t seduce women in bars to get them into his van; he doesn’t lie to capture them." I thought aloud.

Looking at me in wonder she asked, "How do you know?" I stood up.

"Don’t you see?" I searched her eyes and she calmly stared into mine,"He never lied to you once when he had you did he?" I asked.

She smiled and her eyes wandered in a far off way, "No, never."

I searched her with my gaze. I wanted to understand what she was feeling, and who she had become," He lied to me." I said, turning away from her and sitting down at the desk.