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Sixteen Candles
Part Five
Each man clipped a small, wireless microphone to the collar of his button down shirt. Both were dressed “Country Club” casual. Crisply pressed, tailored slacks, fitted polo shirts and Gucci loafers. This was to be their ‘uniform’. They had no intention of parading around garbed in black, an executioner’s mask shielding their identity. Their comfortable attire, in contrast to their prisoners’ insidious restraints, made it quite clear who was in charge.
It had been previously decided that Hanna, would be the first captive “enlightened”. The younger man took his position, then unlocked and removed the MILF’s blindfold.
The stunning blonde 34 year-old blinked away her tears furiously, regaining her sight for the first time in what seemed like days. Even though the light in the room was subdued, it still stabbed her eyes painfully. Feeling as though she was wasting precious moments in which to gather information to her whereabouts ( and that of her daughter), Hanna forced herself to pry open her eyelids.
Through misty vision, she saw a large room that had a decidedly masculine air to it. Though still quite blurry, the blonde mother of a teenage son and daughter sensed something familiar about the surroundings. Before she could her finger on it (figuratively), a tall figure filled her vision.
He watched as Hanna’s eyes narrowed to focus, then *SNAP* open as wide as headlights, in recognition. The astonishment in those beautiful blue eyes was palpable. He watched with a neutral expression, a slight smile curling the lips on the side of his face that still worked, as the blonde writhed hysterically on her chromed mount. He waited until either exhaustion, or the pain through her crotch became too great, and the beauty stilled. Then he keyed his microphone.
“Hello Hanna.” He said, casually. “Welcome to your new home.”
The fettered 34 year-olds’ shock was almost enough to blunt the crush and grind of her predicament. She stared into the face that had once been extraordinarily handsome. A face that she knew well. A face that she was at one time, going to marry. It was the face of her Brother-in-Law, Eric.
“hhfmmnghh!?!” The blonde’s exclamation dribbled out from behind the discipline helmet.
“Yes,” Eric replied, “it’s nice to see you again, too.”
Hanna’s head spun. Memories came rushing back. She’d met Eric at a mixer, her freshman year of college. He was preparing to graduate with a degree in Business Administration, suitably preparing him to take over the family business. Their courtship seemed natural, the two of them making the finest looking couple on campus. But then came the fateful visit to meet Eric’s family. There, Hanna had met Eric’s younger brother, Peter.
“Oh God!” Thought Hanna, the vision of her dead husband lying on the floor of the foyer, flashed before her eyes.
***
When she had met Peter that first night, the chemistry had been immediate, incendiary and eternal. Though they tried to hide their feelings for each other, it was like asking the Moon to leave its orbit around Earth. They tried to keep their romance a secret, but Eric eventually found out. Stricken with grief, he and a bottle of Jack Daniels had gotten behind the wheel of his SL-450.
Had it been a lesser vehicle, he probably would have been killed. As it was, his shattered body required months of rehabilitation, the left side of his face a mass of twisted scar tissue. Hanna and Peter had tried to remain apart out of respectful guilt, but were quickly drawn to each others arms once more. Eventually, the three of them seemed to reach an accord. Eric, still on crutches, served as Best Man at their wedding.
Hanna’s life had been one of fairytale books, the past seemingly forgiven, right up to this very day. The day of her daughter’s sixteenth birthday. Now, that world had taken an inconceivably nightmarish turn. It would prove to only get worse.
***
“I’ve spent a great deal of time and resources acquiring you.” Eric’s voice drummed through the headphones.
“Acquiring?” Thought Hanna. It sounded disturbingly inhumane. And then another thought struck her.
“hhnnnmmfff!” Although her bleat sounded like little more than a sigh, Eric seemed to understand completely.
“Oh yes!” He said, the warped smile returning. “Dear, sweet Holly is nearby as well. Perhaps, if you’re good, I’ll let you see her. Eventually.”
Despite the choking gag and crushing helmet, Hanna launched into a stream of impassioned pleas.
“ERIC, let her GO! Please, what happened between you and I couldn’t be helped! Love has no boundaries! It won’t let us choose sides! Take me, but please, PLEASE, spare my daughter!”
He stood there, listening to the unintelligible grunts and moans of his prisoner, perhaps not understanding each and every word, but comprehending their meaning nonetheless. His expression turned dark, a weird mix of mirth and annoyance twisting his marred face. Of all the things Hanna expected to hear, a chuckle was not one of them.
“Oh, you conceited little wench!” He spat. “When will you learn that it’s not all about YOU!”
“No,” Eric continued, “you are not my ‘prize’, as you so arrogantly think. Holly, will have the privilege of being my slave. I’ll let you watch, as I transform her into my bondage slut, eager to lick my balls and swallow my seed.”
Nausea and disbelief swept over the gorgeous housewife. This couldn’t be happening. She lurched at the smirking man, wishing nothing more than to wrap her manicured fingers around his throat. She had to, HAD TO, do something to keep this lecher away from her daughter. But her restraints didn’t even creak from her efforts.
The frustration of her helplessness was maddening. She “hung” there, fighting the urge to break down in tears. She had to remain strong if she was going to find a way out if this dire situation. She fixed Eric with a withering stare. He returned her gaze until finally, Hanna’s eyes dropped to the floor. She looked up, as he spoke once more.
“I see you still have spirit.” Eric’s voice boomed through the headphones. “Good. That will make your Master’s task of breaking you that much more challenging. And infinitely more rewarding when you finally succumb to his dominance.”
Eric cast his glance to the side and Hanna looked that way, as far as the neck brace and helmet would allow. If it were possible for her eyes to bulge from their sockets, the blonde’s appeared to do just that, when a second man walked into view.
“Hello, Mother.” Hanna’s 20 year-old son, James said. “Or should I say, Slave.”
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