Author's note: as with my stories in general, this work contains strong non-consensual sexual themes, but little actual sex. It is also quite misogynistic and cruel. If this is not to your tastes, I recommend reading a different story.
Jane was heading home when the hand closed over her mouth, she was pulled into a van, and after a short, futile struggle she was gagged, her hands cuffed and her legs chained, and the van was moving.
I've been abducted
, she thought miserably.
How did it all go wrong so fast?
Lying prone on the floor, she could still look up through the van's windows, but although she tried to keep track of where the van was going, she soon became hopelessly lost. At one point the van accelerated into high gear, and she realized with dismay that the van had entered a highway. Odds are she was no longer in the city she lived in.
Eventually the van turned, the ride became bumpier, and she started seeing tall trees outside the windows.
We must be in the countryside
, she thought. Another bad sign, she was less likely to encounter people - or help.
After many more agonizing minutes, the van stopped and the back door opened. A tall, strongly built man lifted Jane out, and she noticed they were at what looked like a perfectly ordinary cottage. The man carried her through the main door and dumped her unceremoniously on the floor, then he undid her restraints and removed the gag.
"That's her?" came another male voice as she rubbed life back into her limbs.
"That's the woman, yes," her abductor responded.
Jane pulled herself up with a wince. She was in a messy and rather dirty, but otherwise unremarkable, living room. The other speaker was a small, bespectacled man. "Hello," he said when he noticed her looking at him. "What is your name?"
"Ja...ne," she stammered.
"Jane?"
"Jane Sawyer," she said quickly, then tensed as she saw the man looking through her purse. Oh no, he was looking at her identity card.
"Punch her once," the man sighed. Without ceremony, her abductor stood her up and landed a solid left-handed blow to her stomach that bowled her over. "Just once," the small man said. Her abductor let her go at that, and she collapsed on the floor, cradling her abdomen.
"Jane Lisa Kendall," the man said. "Don't lie to us."
"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I ... I'm just ..."
"I know you're scared," the man said, "but if you don't cooperate there will be consequences. Cooperating includes telling the truth." He eyed her steadily. "Any tails?" he asked her abductor.
"Nobody saw me," her abductor responded. "And I turned off her mobile phone like you instructed as soon as I grabbed her."
"Did you leave anything behind?"
"No. I checked."
"Good." He emptied Jane's handbag, looking at the items.
Jane looked apprehensively at the small man. He was the more dangerous of her two captors, she realized. Her abductor might be bigger and stronger, but the small man was shrewder, and the one giving instructions.
"Allow me to introduce myself," the small man said after a pause. "I'm Alex, and he is Bob." Bob started to object, but Alex cut him off. "Of course, those are not our real names. But that's what to call us."
"You are probably wondering why you are here," Alex continued. "See, we liberated some cash from the government a week ago. You might have seen the reports on TV. Our heroics pissed off a lot of people, and the ants are out searching for us. They don't know where we are, but they haven't backed down. These ants get a big red F for competence, but A+ for persistence."
Jane had indeed seen the reports on TV. The reports were understandably light on the details, but they did say that the thieves had almost gotten away when the police arrived. There was a brief firefight, but the thieves escaped.
Armed, her captors were armed. And dangerous.
"We've been waiting for the smoke to blow over for a week," continued Alex, "but they show no signs of giving up. We're not short on supplies, but we sure as hell are short on patience. Who knew just
living
could be so troublesome. It only took a few days for that stack to reach that height." Alex indicated the pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.
"That's where you come in. You will clean the house, cook our meals, wash our clothes, make us comfy. Once the ants go back to their anthill, we'll let you go."
"But I don't know how to cook." Jane blurted, the first thing that came to mind. It wasn't exactly true, her cooking was ... edible, but her poor culinary skills were a running joke among her friends. At home her maid did most of the cooking, and the last time the maid was on holiday, her husband had politely ushered her out of the kitchen.
"You mean you're a kitchen disaster?" Alex sounded surprised, as though he had never considered the possibility before. When she nodded, he exclaimed in exasperation, "Fuck, it's all that good-for-nothing bitch's fault for getting shot. All she had to do was sit in the car, but she had to get out to see the action. You'd hope women would realize they should stay far away from where the guns are, but no." Alex ranted on and on, Jane listening apprehensively.
Do these guys need a
woman
to cook for them? Are they unable to take care of themselves otherwise?
Then she brushed her scorn away. However pathetic her captors might be, they still had her. She had to be careful.
"... We have to take all these risks to get someone else, and it turns out she can't cook. What good are women if they can't cook?" Alex finished at last. He slammed a fist on the table with a crunch that made Jane's heart flutter with hope. If they had no use for her, perhaps they would let her go!
Bob looked blank for a moment, then his face lit up. "They're good for fucking," he said with a grin.
Oh no
, thought Jane frantically as the two men sized her up. "I mean, I can cook some simple dishes, but - "
Alex cut her off. "You mean, you lied?" When she didn't answer, he sighed. "Punch her again."
She barely had time to squeal before Bob grabbed her and landed another blow to her abdomen. Her still-aching stomach erupted in fresh agony. This time, Bob threw her onto the floor, and her head hit the floor with a thud. Consciousness ebbed and flowed in a haze as her body worked to keep the darkness at bay. It was a long minute before she felt able to push herself onto her elbows.
Alex was staring at her. "The next time you lie to us," he said coldly, "We'll strip you naked and whip your tits. Now tell us true: can you cook or not?"
Why me?
Jane thought miserably, kneading her throbbing stomach. "I can," she said slowly, the emotional roller-coaster of the past several minutes making it hard for her to think. "It's just ... I don't do it very often."
"I didn't ask if you cooked often. I asked if you knew how to cook. You are to tell the truth,
