Gone
Part Four
Molly's life earlier that day had been a lake, a crystal body of water
unhindered by any disturbance. And then, Forced To Pleasure Inc., like a rock,
had been thrown into the center of the mirror-like surface, the subsequent
result being an eruption, an outward ripple of concentric waves spreading shore
to shore from the epicenter.
It was shortly after Clark announced that he and Leonard moved to the
two women-Leonard to Molly, Clark to Jenna-and began to release their bindings.
The stocks securing Molly's wrists in position were released, and her arms
swiftly pulled behind her and handcuffed; the straps around her ankles were
undone.
Molly looked over to Jenna. As Clark was releasing her, she began
stirring gently, and then awoke. Her eyes were unfocused and she was quite
disoriented for a couple minutes, giving Clark enough time to fully restrain
her. Leonard roughly pulled Molly to her feet, and then turned her around so she
was facing the man that had just spent sixteen thousand dollars on the two
teenagers. He stood before them like a brick wall, about a foot taller than
Molly, and about double her width. He looked down on the helpless girl with a
gleam of lust and anger in his eyes indicating the malevolent treatment that
awaited her. Then, he spoke, his voice commanding, like each word uttered was an
invisible iron wall. "Kneel. Both of you."
Jenna obeyed quietly and Molly fell to her knees instantly, her heart
pounding with terror. Her eyes, wide with fright, were locked on his face.
Still, he examined them with a cold stare, like they had both committed an
immensely offensive crime. "Now, ladies. Let me tell you who I am. My name is
Vincent. I am your new owner. I run a corporation called Forced To Pleasure,
Incorporated. As you two may have already deducted, you now belong to me, and I
will do with them as I wish. That is all I will tell you. My intentions for your
'unused' bodies will become apparent soon enough." He turned quickly to Leonard.
"Bring them to my boat, along with the other four." After his concise
introduction, Vincent turned and made a quiet yet hasty exit from the room.
Both women were bound with handcuffs and ball gags, bright red spheres
stuffed in each dainty mouth and secured with a leather strap. Molly's mouth
barely accepted the gag, and her lips were tightly wrapped around the solid
plastic. Leonard moved to her side and took her elbow, gently coaxing her into a
standing position. The floor was cool against her bare soles and, for some
reason, she was reminded of the pleasure the bottoms of her feet and toes gave
the men.
And so the ripples spread further. The women were led to yet another
hallway, no different from the other hallways of the building. The entire
facility was bland and drab, a miserable labyrinth of dismal passages and
depressingly repetitive surroundings. One hallway led to a new hallway,
identical to all the previous.
Finally, there was an alteration in the redundant pattern. A pair of
iron doors at the end of one corridor, a gateway to something more promising.
Jenna and Molly were prodded forward, toward the end of the hall and whatever
awaited them beyond. Clark handed Jenna over to Leonard and stepped forward to
open the doors, and the two women were shoved through.
The doors led to the exterior of the facility, a portion of the immense
dockyards Molly had seen repeatedly before. The temperature had cooled
noticeably since their kidnappings earlier that evening. A chill in the air
greeted both women, and the ground was pavement, rough under Molly's sensitive
soles, and the combined shocking coolness provoked a shiver from each girl. A
breeze slithered sneakily between the massive crates aligned in rows beside the
building and embraced Molly and Jenna's nude bodies, caressing their bare skin
indifferently. It crept up their slender legs, slid across their naked pussies,
and swirled around their exposed stomachs and breasts. It was as if nature was
taunting their predicament, perhaps even utilizing their plight to indulge in
their vulnerability.
Again, the professional synchronization of the men was evident when
Molly and Jenna were shoved forward at the same time, toward a large sea vessel
docked before them. It was unmarked with the exception of a faded white "HAON"
painted on the bow of the ship, the title of the boat. As they approached, Molly
watched two other girls around her age being escorted on board the HOAN, across
a short wooden catwalk between the dock and the port side of the boat. When
fully across the bridge, they were taken below the deck.
As Molly and Jenna were led closer to the catwalk, two other girls were
shoved on board, side-by-side, both cuffed and ball gagged. Molly wondered how
many women Vincent had purchased that night. She confirmed six, but there may
have been others.
Finally, it was her turn to board. Leonard escorted her onto the
catwalk, the feeling of pavement turning to uneven wooden planks, moist with
dampness marked by such a shocking frigidity that it surpassed the temperature
of any surface her bare feet had experienced that night. Jenna was led beside
her, nonchalantly obeying her captor, revealing no noticeable facial expression
conveying her thoughts about the current situation. Leonard and Clark gave the
two girls over to two new men, who pulled them onto the boat. The wooden planks
turned to metal deck, icy against Molly's soft skin, which turned to carpeted
stairwell as the two women descended into the dark depths below deck.
At the base of the stairs, a narrow hallway performed as the hub for
eight rooms, four metal doors on each side of the hall. "Either of you have to
use the bathroom?" They both shook their heads. The men then proceeded to open
one of the doors and Molly stepped in, followed by Jenna. It was a small, dimly
lit room with a large bed against the wall opposite the door. The space between
the door and the foot of the bed was only about a foot, and the sides of the bed
fit snugly against the walls.
"Lay down, feet towards the wall." One of the captors growled the order
at them. Molly and Jenna both complied, with unwavering obedience as usual,
laying facedown upon the bed before them. It was a waterbed, the mattress
yielding willingly to the weight lowered upon it. The sheets were white and
silky, and the overall effect gave Molly a sense of being atop a cloud, but that
would imply that she and Jenna were in heaven. And this place was far from
there.
With the two women laying facedown on the bed, each captor kneeled upon
the mattress beside them and crawled swiftly to their feet. Molly's left ankle
was lifted slightly and a handcuff was locked around it, then her right ankle
was shackled. Her legs were now held tightly close together, and she could
spread her feet only about six inches apart. Not that she particularly wanted
her legs to be able to spread. To make matters worse, the man bent her legs at a
forty-five degree angle and snapped the cuff of a third pair of handcuffs around
the length of chain holding her ankles together, then secured it to the length
of chain holding her wrists behind her back. In essence, Molly was hogtied with
three pairs of handcuffs. The position was less than comfortable, but not enough
to really harm her. Jenna was secured similarly. Of course.
Finally, the gags were removed. The sphere popped willingly from Molly's
mouth and her jaw seized the opportunity for a well-deserved rest. With the
women completely restrained, the two men left. And all was silent.
Molly was first to speak, and reluctantly at that. "Jenna...?"
"Yeah?"
"What do you think will happen to us?" At this point, Molly and Jenna
both turned their heads to one another.
"I...I don't know. I'm really scared."
Molly thought for a moment, her mind still attempting to wrap itself
around the concept that she had been trying so very hard to ignore. At last, she
finally recognized the most probable outcome of the days ahead. "They're going
to rape us."
Jenna choked on a sob. She, too, had been grappling with that idea, but
until now hadn't the courage to confront the grim truth. "Oh god...I hope
not...." Jenna broke down, pushing her head into the mattress and crying softly.
It was only moments before Molly, too, succumbed to reality and began crying as
well. In the distance, the ship's bowels growled ominously, and the ship began
to move. Molly estimated that the time was nearing midnight, and the engine's
rhythmic roaring slowly lulled her to sleep.
When Molly awoke, she was dizzy with confusion. The room was black
except for a bright light. For a single moment, Molly thought that perhaps she
had been killed. The bright light was heaven shining down upon her, and she had
escaped the miserable darkness known as earth. Instead, however, the bright
light turned out being the light flooding in from the adjacent hallway. In the
light stood a broad silhouette-the black outline of a man standing in the
doorway. Molly squinted her eyes, struggling to determine the identity of the
mystery intruder. Before she could call out or anything, the door was closed and
the assailant kneeled in front of her, cupping a strong hand over her mouth.
Thick, firm fingers pressed into her frail cheeks and her lips became tightly
pressed together. She moaned softly into the palm.
Then, the aggressor flipped on the light switch and Molly could finally
identify the man. It was Greg, his mouth molded into a twisted, lustful smile.
His hand was still clamped over the girl's mouth and now the other hand reached
to her skull and rubbed a thick patch of hair, gently stroking the soft strands
between his fingers. Her eyes grew wide and fearful as she stared into his
hungry gaze, helpless to resist his icy, clawlike hand caressing her fragile
hair. "Hello Molly. I told you those pretty little feet of yours would be
mine...soon..." He pressed his pointer finger against his lips and slowly
removed his hand from her mouth. Fearful for her life, Molly kept quiet, despite
the occasional soft whimper. She lay frozen as Greg crawled quietly onto the
bed, then slowly moving to her shackled ankles. Her soft, pretty soles were held
high in the air by Molly's wrists, so invitingly prone, so temptingly vulnerable
that it seemed as though the girl was encouraging the man to ravish her delicate
bare feet. The hungry fingers of each hand gingerly came in contact with her
slender ankles, itching with anticipation of indulging in the smooth arches and
toes. Painfully gradually, Greg's fingers slid down to her heels. The intrusive
digits gently caressed the tender orbs, laden with an unfamiliar benevolence
that Molly theorized was a result of his fondness for female feet, two of which
were displayed so accessibly before him. Molly clenched her eyes shut and pulled
her feet away from his prying hands, desperate to deny him the satisfaction of
becoming aroused by her involuntary invitation to caress the tender skin. But he
persisted and Molly's resistance to the advancements was in vain. The old
pervert, obsessed with the young girl's body, pressed his face into the
seventeen-year-old's soft feet. He inhaled them, sniffed at every possible
surface and crease, then tasted them. At first, it was a gentle kiss upon her
right heel. He seemed quite content with the flavor and followed up the kiss
with a passionate swirling of his tongue around the voluptuous sphere. His face
was cool against her flesh, his tongue slimy and hot in contrast. Molly,
defeated, lay in helplessness as her bare foot was ravaged. The thoughts that
came to Molly were disgusting. Here was a violent older guy, double her age give
or take a few years, who took pleasure in stealing young women from their homes
just so he could rape them and fulfill fantasies that he couldn't otherwise
fulfill. She wondered if he had ever kidnapped any twelve- or thirteen-year-olds
to use for his perverted lust. A thirty-year-old shouldn't be doing such
activities to a seventeen-year-old without her consent. Come to think of it, he
shouldn't even be doing it to a girl of that age WITH her consent, but that was
irrelevant.
Greg was finally forced to succumb to the luscious taste of the delicate
morsels gave up on poking between her toes and took them all into his mouth, as
well as the ball of her foot. Molly's feet were precious, her heels and soles a
divine scent and irresistibly tantalizing flavor; each petite toe comparable to
a sweet berry of enchanting beauty and delicious piquancy. He switched between
the two feet, gently running his tongue across the silky soft flesh, savoring
the unmistakable tang of her exceptionally beautiful toes.
He then proceeded to hold her feet together and took both of her big
toes into his mouth. They were nicely shaped, well rounded, a good size in
comparison to the rest of the toes. Her sexy body was just so irresistible, so
absolutely perfect. Soft, smooth skin. Petite breasts. A tight, virgin cunt.
Adorable feet and legs. Her bare feet and submissive way of just lying there and
being ravaged turned Greg on to an incredible extent-his pants had become a tent
of huge size. He so yearned to yank out her gag and replace it with his hard
cock, just to shove the rod as far as he could, listening to her choke and moan
as the long shaft forced its way deeper down her slender throat. But he couldn't
fuck her mouth quite yet-he wasn't even allowed to be worshipping her feet yet.
But it wasn't too important to him what he was and wasn't allowed to do. She was
his little tart, those pretty little tootsies at the end of her pretty little
legs belonged to him.
Greg was suddenly struck with an unimaginably good idea. If Molly and
Jenna stayed at Forced To Pleasure, Inc. then Greg's access to the women would
be restricted. He would have to share them with other guys. But if he somehow
kept them for himself...
