Kidnapped

KIDNAPPED

Chapter One

       Three o’clock in the morning, Northbound I-75’s virtually barren as Jodi drives back to Ohio from a Florida vacation.  Alone, having driven for a few hours, taken a half of a valium, she’s now somewhere in southern Georgia, feeling just a little groggy.  Dark, a misty drizzle patters across the windshield, just enough to occasionally flip the wipers on.  The white lane markers pass by in a rhythmic pattern, flashing under the headlights.  Leaning, reaching across the seat for her lighter, the rolled joint she’s been toking on has gone out, again.

       “Crash!!!”  Her car jolts, bounces sideways, comes to a stop on the brim of the interstate.  Barely bumping her head on the steering wheel, startled, her heart pounds as she looks around, wondering what happened, what she hit.  Her car stalled, she turns the key, cranks the engine, nothing!

       Opening the door, she steps out into the misty darkness; notices the only headlights are southbound, but slowing down, pulling into the grass divider.  Glancing back down the roadway she can barely make out the silhouette of what appears to be a concrete block, lying off the edge of the high speed lane.

       “What happened?  Need some help?”  Still somewhat shocked, she hears the voice, turns her head toward an old beat up tow truck, a couple men inside, the driver leaning out the driver’s door window.

       “Oh… Ye.. Yes I, I do.” She nods, adding. “I hit that rock, I think.  In the road, down there!”

       Quickly pulling the truck in front of her Camaro, backing toward it, the passenger gets out, begins hooking the front of her car to the truck as the driver steps out, approaching her.  “Lucky we were coming by, huh?  He grins, eyeing her as she still stares groggily toward the road.  Turning, he winks toward his partner who’s already lifting the front of the car up on the hook.  Reaching inside the car, he slides the floor shifter into neutral, turns the key off, turns back.  Touching Jodi’s shoulder, he adds.  “You okay?  Get out of the rain, there, in the truck.  We’ll get you taken care of!”

       Still dazed, Jodi nods.  “Okay.  Yeh, okay, thanks.” Obediently stepping around to the driver side of the truck, she glances toward her car as she steps up into the truck cab, slides across the rumpled seat.  Sliding in on either side of her the men shut their doors, squeezing her between them.  The driver glances into the rear view mirror, smiles, pulls slowly onto the roadway, gradually picking up speed in the drizzle.  “Alone, huh?  All by yourself out here.”  He asks, but more like a comment.

       “Yeh.”  She nods.  “Heading back home, to Ohio!”

       “Too bad, looks like you ain’t going to make it for a while!”  The other man chimes in, flicking a knife open, sliding it against her neck.

       “Wha…What?... What you doing??”  She jerks, turns her face toward him, startled, her heart pounding.

       “Shut up, sit still!”  He orders as he grips her right breast through her damp tank top, twists, squeezes it in his fist.  “Big tits, Roy!  No bra either!”  He snickers as the blade presses against her throat as she arches back against the seat.

       ”Yeh, I think we hit a home run with this one Jimmy!”  The driver answers while reaching across his right shoulder with his left hand, cupping, twisting Jodi’s left breast.  “Yep, you’re right; they are pretty big, hard too!”

       “Oh God!  Nooo!”  She whines.  “You’re hurting me, please!  Stop!... Stop it!!!””

       “Shut up cunt!”  The passenger scolds.  “You dumb ass, you think that concrete just happened to be out there?”  “Open your mouth again, I’ll cut that pretty face up, understand?  Nod, bitch!”

       Tears welling, Terrified, Jodi stares straight ahead, barely moving her head, actually jerking it up and down in the affirmative as she feels the tip of the blade pressing across her cheek.  Sitting completely still as they drive thru the rain, her chest aches, her heart pounds, the fear resonating in the pit of her stomach as she watches the truck exit onto the first ramp, onto a dark highway, quickly turn onto what appears to be an abandoned road.  Both men remain eerily quiet, only the knife blade seeming to move as it glides sadistically across her neck, cheek, alternating back and forth as the passenger continues to let his free hand rest across the sloping curve of her breast just above her right nipple.

       After just a few minutes they’re pulling into what was an old gas station, apparently now a rundown repair shop.  The truck slows to a stop in front of the office door, under a dilapidated awning.

       “Before the new highway went through, this used to be our daddy’s business.”  The driver quips, almost proudly, as he turns off the key, opens the door.  “Come on, get out!”

       Terrified, Jodi slides out from the tattered seat, steps beside the truck, crossing her chest with her arms as she staggers from the truck.

       “What’s your name girl?”  He asks as the other man begins unhooking the car.

       “Jodi… Jodi.”  She answers in a mumble, starring toward the ground.

       “Jodi, huh?  Okay Jodi, do as you’re told and you just might get by this night.  Otherwise, well.”  Flicking his knife out, he waves it across the tops of her glistening breasts, letting the pointed steel tip glide across her damp tank top, catching in the woven fabric. Stretching it downward, he catches a glimpse of a tan areola.  “Come with me.”

       Grabbing her arm, he turns toward the garage’s office door as its being swung open.  To Jodi’s dismay a couple other grubby men step outside, grinning, snickering as they obviously ogle her.  “Hey guys.”  Roy acknowledges them.  “This here’s Jodi!  She had an accident out on the highway, imagine that!  Jodi, these are my brothers, actually we all are.”

       Pulling her by her arm, the four of them enter the old, grungy garage, dirty, dull incandescent lights hanging from the ceiling illuminating the greasy, metallic smelling areas.  Stepping thru the old storefront, toward the mechanic’s bays, the driver stops, twists her around by her arm.  “Okay, let’s get to it.  Jodi, get those wet clothes off, strip!”

       “Wha… What?  She whimpers, still crossing her arms, her heart thumping, her voice raising a couple octaves.

       Again waving the knife, he shakes his head, repeats.  “I said strip, now get naked or I’ll cut those clothes off you bitch!   And keep your fucking mouth shut!”

       Tears streaking down her cheeks as she watches the light flickering off the open blade, she reflexively obeys.  Bending forward, trembling, nearly stumbling, she slides her left, then right shoe off her feet, slides them against the filthy garage door.  Unsnapping her blue jeans, she jerks, slides the pants back and forth, down across her hips, scraping her thigh with a thumbnail.  Haphazardly stepping out of the left leg, then right, she slides her jeans across her shoes with her right foot.

       The men stand around her in a semi circle Jimmy walks in, steps between them, grinning.  “Getting her naked already, huh?”  He grunts as he eyes her half naked body. Snickering, he looks at her, orders.   “Don’t stop because of me bitch!”

       Glancing up, around the men, tears streak down her cheeks as she feels her legs trembling, her fingers twitching as she slides the sides of her black thong panties down across her hips.  Bending slowly forward, her braid of swaying, long brown hair frazzles across her shoulders.  Shoving the silk material below her knees, onto her ankles, straightening, standing on her right foot, she flicks the panties onto the accumulating pile.

       “Look at that shaved pussy!  Keep on going bitch!  Don’t stop now!”  An excited voice orders as another brother whistles.

       Feeling the warmth spreading across her flushing face, she jerkily crosses her arms above her head, reaches down, grips her tank top and stretches it up over her heaving breasts.  Her symmetrical mounds bounce, sway, the perfectly centered areolas, nipples jiggling as she flicks the white cloth top against the door.  Quickly lowering her head, tears dripping onto her quivering breasts, she hears the vulgar exclamations of the men, their voices mixing into unintelligible gibberish to her as she closes her eyes, crosses one hand over her naked breasts, the other covering her bald pubic mound as the men surround her.  Her arms grabbed, held toward her sides, she feels ropes being tied to each wrist, wrapped around her thighs, tightly tied.  Opening her eyes, she numbly watches, hardly believing any of this could possibly be happening to her.

       “Okay.”  Roy speaks.  “Let’s get a good look now.”  The four men slowly circle their panicked victim, touching, probing, pinching her tanned, naked flesh as they explore her assets.  Her breasts, large but still extremely firm, her slender waist, boyish hips and buttocks, her sleek thighs, legs, all appreciated, but still mostly crude comments are bantered about.

       “Well, time to get to work with our guest!”   Roy finally adds, gripping Jodi by the chin with the palm of his hand.  “Listen girl, do as you’re told.  You’re going to start off by showing us how much pain those titties can handle, okay?  Don’t move a muscle unless you’re told too, understand?”

       Glancing upward through her tears, she can only nod as she feels ready to vomit, her stomach twisting, churning with fear.

       Looking toward the others, he mutters.  “Let’s start with some clothespins on her tits, boys.”  Turning toward Jodi he adds.  “Face us like you’re a slave.  Beg for clothespins to be clipped on those titties, your nipples, while you push ‘em out.  That is, unless you want me to modify those nipples with my knife!

       Humiliated, terrified, she stands between them in what she thinks would be a submissive stance, legs spread with her arms already bound down toward her sides. She feels her elbows pulled toward her back as a rope’s crisscrossed, tied around them, tugged, thrusting her breasts even further outward, her nipples jiggling, pointing apart.  Her palms remain facing forward with her wrists bound against her thighs.

       “Okay bitch, beg, like I said!”  Roy scolds as he waves the knife in his hand.  “Tits and nipples, push ‘em out and beg!”

       Again closing her welling eyes while hardly able to speak, she stands virtually motionless, and stutters.  “Put clothespins on my, my titties, please.  And, and my nipples too, please.”  Slowly bowing her already arching shoulders, she forces her breasts as far out as she can, feels them sway apart as she again mutters.  “My, my nipples, clamp clothespins on them, please!”  Twitching, biting her lips, she begins to feel the pins being clipped onto her naked body, one after another pinching into her bare tit flesh.

       After several agonizing minutes, she’s lost count of the clothespins being alternatively clipped across her bare breasts, the latest compressing into her left areola.  Her pain spreads across the front side of her glistening torso as a half dozen matching pins are tightly grouped across her navel just to add to her torment.

       “Oomph!”  A tear traces down her right cheek, her breast reflexively twitching as a pin snaps shut across the more sensitive flesh around the edge of her right areola.  The four grubby, oil stained men stand around her, forming a circle, intently watching, taking turns as her tanned flesh is clamped, each pin carefully placed closer to the buds of her thickening nipples.  Squinting her eyes, glancing down toward her tortured chest, her body quivers as she struggles to maintain her pose as the latest mounted clothespin is toyed with, flicked and twisted across her distorting tit flesh before yet another is raised toward her left breast.  Her moist lips tremble; press tightly together, as again she holds her breath.

       One of the group breaks, steps behind her, grips her biceps, arches her shoulders firmly back, tightening the rope, thrusting her breasts even further outward and apart.  Giving minimal resistance, afraid to even think, she just glares toward the wooden clip sliding directly onto the nub of her right nipple, spreading across it, snapping shut.

       “Agghhhh!”   Her loud grunt resonates through the empty bay as her breasts jerk, the tight groups of mounting clothespins jiggling, her nipples swelling, the pain spreading.  Twisted harshly toward her right, her eyes glare toward the man in front of her as another spread clip’s pressed over the nub of her left nipple, released.  “Humph!”  Another grunt as she reflexively jerks with the mounting pain.  Both breasts twitch while swaying wider apart, a single clip now centered on each nipple, both encircled with a half dozen quivering clothespins pinching around the edges of her spread areolas.

       Twisted, spun around again, she glances pleadingly toward the closed garage door, through the grimy glass, into the outside darkness.  Her mound of clothes lay on the floor in a pile across her shoes next to the door.  Just a few minutes earlier she’d been wearing them outside that same door, now they’re filthy and she’s naked and being tortured.  Feeling hands across her buttocks, hips, she braces as a clip’s slid up between her thighs, across a fold of her labia, clamped tightly shut.  “Ouch!”  Another squeal echoes though out the bay as she feels the tips of the clothespin digging into her tender flesh.  Another tug on her other labia fold, another pinching clip, more pain as she bites her lip, stiffens.

       The brothers continue to circle, close in, watching as their latest victim squirms, twists as she’s humiliated, tortured with the clothespins digging into her naked flesh.  Hands grip, twist her breasts, squeeze the pins open, spreading the tips deeper onto the swollen tit flesh, snapping shut.  Other hands press between her thighs, twisting the pins, her bare, tender flesh stretching as those pins are manipulated, digging deeper into that sensitive flesh.

       “Agghhhh!.... Ohhh!! …That hurts!”  She grunts, blurts.  Tears streak down her cheeks, her naked body tensing, arching as she’s spun around again, pinched across her flailing breasts, between her clenching thighs as a soiled shop rag’s stuffed deep into her mouth, forced between her lips, down into her throat.  She feels her feet kicked apart, clothesline wrapped around each ankle, her legs spread.   Her hair tugged from behind, her head jerks back.  Clotheslines are wrapped, stretched around the base of her breasts, yanked tight, twisted, tugged as they instantly swell, balloon out in front of her arched chest.  One more clip, almost an afterthought is shoved between her thighs from her front side while another brother kneels behind her, spreads her labia folds apart with the other dangling clothespins.  The clip slides over her puffy clitoris without time for her to react.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!” The pin clamps shut, deep on her most sensitive flesh, deflects back and forth between the other pair of pins as she screams through the gag.

       Again spun around, the ends of the ropes are tugged, her bulging breasts stretched forward as she’s forced to stumble between the men toward an old hydraulic in ground car hoist that’s in the process of being raised.  Twisted, turned to stand in front of it, facing another grungy glass garage door, a rope’s wrapped, tied to the ends of the rusting lift’s spread rack, slipped behind her arms, wrapped beneath her armpits.  Again the sound of the lift raising echoes thru the shop as she feels the rope stretching upwards, at the same time suspending her onto her tiptoes as she’s lifted by her shoulders.  The clothespins jiggle, jerk, a couple snapping off from her tortured tit flesh as her discolored globes continue to swell in the ropes dangling from them.

       Muffled grunts, squeals escape the dirty, orange colored rag as the pain rips through her aching breasts, her areolas, nipples stretching, pointing apart.  Her fingernails dig into her thighs, her bound wrists scrapped raw while she reflexively scratches, claws as the weight of her body tugs at the stretching ropes while she’s barely able to tiptoe as her nightmare continues.

       A couple of the men step to either side of her, the ropes around her ankles grabbed.  Spreading her legs apart, upward, the ends of the ropes are firmly tied to the forks of the lift.  Her weight now hangs from her shoulders and bound ankles as she desperately tries to lift upwards with her obscenely spread legs.  Her body glistening, sweat beads, streaks, crisscrosses her naked flesh as she sways, twists under the lift, a couple more pins snapping off her bare flesh, bouncing off the concrete floor beneath her.  Her straining leg, thigh muscles, tendons stretch, bulging under her taut flesh as her vagina gaps open.  The pair of clothespins clamped to her spread labia dangle, deflect off the painful clit clothespin.  The pain rocks her tortured body, her head twisting, flipping back as her brown, matting hair brushes across her shoulders.

       The men continue to circle the front of her, tugging the tightening ropes binding her bulging breasts, spreading them apart as they flick the clothespins across her taut areolas, nipples.  Roy grabs a length of old rubber hose from the workbench, stepping in front of the rack, flicks it sadistically back and forth a couple times before aiming across her hollowed stomach, pubic mound, beneath her stretched thighs, back across her rippling abs, backhand, forehand, backhand.         “Thwack!...  Thwack!...  Thwack!”

       Jodi’s head rears back, twists as she grunts, groans through the muffling shop rag.   Her breasts sear with pain, stretched, pinched, her legs burn, the ropes tightening, tugging as she hangs, sways off from the end of the rack, her breath knocked from her lungs.  The hose tears into her sweat drenched flesh, each lashing leaving red welts marred with a grimy blackish colored stain from the worn out black rubber hose.

       “Spread ‘em, spread those tits!”   Roy grunts, flexing the hose as the ropes are instantly tugged, her breasts bulging, stretching toward her sides, the clothespins jerking twisting from her nipples.

       Cupping her chin, forcing her to stare toward him, he addresses her.  “Time to remove those clothespins Jodi.  You just might want to hold tight!” “Swish… Smack!  Swish… Smack!  Swish… Smack!  Swish… Smack!  Swish…Smack!”  Backhand, forehand, backhand, forehand, he flicks the hose across Jodi’s tautly stretched breasts, aiming for the clamps, most blows flicking a clothespin off her naked flesh.

       “Humph!... Agghhhh!!!... Oomph!”  Her pain wrecked breasts bulge in the tightening ropes as she jerks her head back and forth screaming into the soiled rag with each stinging blow, the wooden pins tearing from her bruised flesh, bouncing around the garage floor.

       Momentarily pausing, single pin’s left, still clamped tightly, deeply onto her left nipple.  “Smack!... Smack!... Smack!........ Smack!”  Three harsh backhands, forehands, the pin jerks, twists, jiggles, still clamped on the bud of her assaulted nipple. A forth blow flick’s it almost off as it still grips onto the very tip of her twitching nipple.   “Aaaaaaaggggghhhhhhhh!”   A constant squeal through the rag melds with the rubber hose smashing across her bulging globe, discolored, stained, and bruised.

       Her body sways, twists, her head reared back, her matted braid of hair flailing behind her bound shoulders as the pin’s edges bite, agonizingly pinch into the very tip of her nipple.  Her mind screams with pain as he centers himself, swings the hose over handed, directly down, across her battered globe.   “Swish… Thwack!   Aggggghhhhhhhhhhh!”    Her body bucks, urine spurting from between her stretched thighs as the clothespin snaps shut off her nipple, bounces off the floor.

       Lowering the hose, stepping back with his brothers, they watch as she continues to spasm, sway, sweat streaking down off her glistening naked body, pooling onto the floor with the traces of urine dripping off the trio of clothespins still dangling from between her spread legs as she blankly stares past the garage door with glazed, swollen eyes.  Handing the hose to the youngest, smallest brother, Roy nods toward the twitching pair of clothespins.  “Smack ‘em off that pussy, the clit clamp last, Jeb.”

       Gripping, flexing, swishing the hose back and forth through the air, Jeb grins as he steps in front of the rack, positions himself, leans over and gives an awkward underhanded flip of the hose. “Swack!”  The rubber flicks across Jodi’s spread vulva, smacking across her clit, just flicking across the clothespin.  “Oooohhh!”  Twitching, Jodi’s head twists back between the ropes suspending her arms as she feels the hose barely glance across her vagina.

       “Got’ a whack it a lot harder then that, boy, and not the clit yet!”   One of the other brothers blurt out as they laugh.

       “Okay…Okay!”  He answers, almost nervously as he leans further over, stares at the wooden pins, snaps the hose harder, a lot harder.  “Thwack!”  A clothespin jerks, snaps off the puffy fold of her quivering right labia, glances off the floor under the rack.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!”  Her body bucks as she screams in the stifling gag, a bruised indentation in her tender flesh left as a remnant of the pin. Her clit pulses, compressed in its own clothespin, swollen, marred by the greasy hose.  “Thwack!”  “Agghhhh!”    “Thwack!  “Agghh!”  Thwack!”  “Agghhhh!!”  More backhand, forehand flicks, the other labia clamp finally flicking off onto the floor.     Without stopping, more snaps of the hose, each harsher then the previous.  Her naked, sweating body contorts, bounces, sways as the springy rubber pounds between the folds of her vulva, flattening across her clit, the clothespin, her spread vagina raw, puffy, and bruised.

       “Thwack!  Thwack!”  Her mind scrambles, she chokes, coughs in the oiled rag, her eyes roll upward, the pain tears through her tortured body. “Thwack!”   The third flick finally snaps the remaining pin from her clitoris as her body continues to gyrate in her restraints.  Smiling, Jeb steps back toward his brothers, kicks the clothespin, watches it slide under the rack.  The group stands in front of her, watches a couple minutes as her sweat drenched body slowly sways back and forth under the rack, limp, her ballooning, discolored breasts heaving with the ropes dangling off the front of her bare chest as her head slumps forward, her chin resting on her sternum, incoherent, barely conscious.  Taking the rubber hose, Roy nods, “Go get a bucket of water Jeb!”

End Part One