Captured!
by soleil (c) (sonsoleil@hotmail.com)
Part One
Sarah huddled against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest. The concrete floor
was cold and hard, and she could feel rocks and pebbles digging into her ass
through the thin fabric of her shorts. She was tired and frightened, as were the
others who sat by her, backs pressed against the wall, heads down, as
instructed.
There were four of them, two men, two women. They were part of a singles holiday
group - offered the choice between visiting yet another museum or spending a
last afternoon on the beach before flying home, they'd chosen sand and sun. Now,
they were nothing more than captives, snatched off the isolated, idyllic beach
by three balaclava-wearing men. Dressed only in light clothing, their hands were
bound behind their backs and then they were frog-marched through the jungle to a
damp, dark hut, far from civilization. And they still didn't know why.
Not daring to look up, Sarah strained her ears to hear the whispered
conversation taking place at the other side of the room. Their captors were
discussing something amongst themselves; their attention was momentarily
diverted. Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw movement and realised John,
closest to the door out of all of them, was shuffling toward it on his ass in a
valiant effort to escape. Sarah didn't know him well, but she knew he was game
for anything. She held her breath as she watched him, he was almost there, and
though their hands were bound, their legs weren't. If he got away, he could run,
run for help. Silently, she urged him on, willing him to escape.
Then, movement from the other side of the room. With a sinking heart, Susan
realised John had been spotted and one of their captors, the leader, moved
swiftly to intercept him.
John howled in pain as the man brought one of his boots down hard on his foot,
grinding it mercilessly into the concrete. Sarah and her companions gasped in
horror at the sound of splintering bone as John's toes broke. Then, a swift kick
to the ribs and John doubled over in agony, winded from the blow. Hauling him up
by the armpits, the man threw John back against the wall as if he were a
feather. Then, he turned to face the rest of them, his eyes icy behind the
balaclava.
"Don't fucking try it again. That goes for all of you. You'll do what you're
told, when you're told to do it. If not, you'll suffer the consequences."
Sarah was sickened by what they'd just witnessed, and felt a hot rage boil up as
the man stood before them, glaring down at them. Like his companions, he was
dressed in khaki pants and a close fitting black T-shirt. Black boots, laced,
and a black balaclava. His gun was jammed almost casually into the waistband of
his pants, and he had a knife tucked into a sheath. An aura of quiet menace
surrounded him. Sarah didn't care.
"Bastard," she snapped, her lip curled in disgust as she looked up at him. "Is
this how you get your kicks? Kidnapping and bashing people, just for the hell of
it? Why did you bring us here? Bastards." Sarah spat at the man before her,
coating his the toe of his boot with saliva.
"Sarah, be quiet!" hissed Rob, who was sitting next to her. "You'll get us all
in trouble, look at John!"
"I don't care," said Sarah. "They're nothing but spineless thugs. Fucking
cowards." She spat again, hitting the other one of the man's boots.
The other men crossed the room to join their leader. "She's a feisty one, isn't
she?" one of them said, sneering at the group. "You want me to teach her a
lesson?"
"Shut up. I'll deal with this," the leader replied, steel in his voice.
Addressing the shorter of his two companions, he said "You watch the door.
Anyone moves, stop them." Turning to the other, he directed him to tie the
ankles of the captives together with lengths of rope. "But don't tie hers," he
said, pointing at Sarah. I'll take care of her."
The hairs on the back of Sarah's neck stood up as the man approached her, boots
crunching on the floor. Reaching down, he grabbed a fistful of Sarah's hair,
wrenching her head up so her eyes met his.
"Stupid bitch," he said quietly, his voice hard and his eyes cold. "Stupid,
silly bitch. I warned you, didn't I? I told you you'd all pay the consequences
for fucking with me. Actually," he said, almost thoughtfully, "I've decided
you'll pay the consequences. Just you. Right here, in front of everyone."
Sarah squirmed in an effort to get free. "You're hurting me," she said, wincing
as he pulled her hair.
"Hurting you? I haven't even fucking started. Get up, cunt."
Climbing unsteadily to her feet, the man's hand still tangled painfully in her
hair, Sarah stood, shivering with fear. Leaning in close to her, the man spoke
quietly and deliberately in her ear.
"I'm going to untie your hands, and you're going to strip for us, do you
understand? You're going to strip down to your bra and panties, and then we'll
see whether I'll hurt you or not. Okay?" He fumbled for the knots that tied her,
and released her hands.
Sarah was horrified. Strip? He was going to make her strip? She flushed red with
embarrassment. "Please don't make me do that," she begged. "I'm sorry I spat on
you. Really, I am. I was worried for John, and we're all tired and frightened.
I'm sorry," she said helplessly.
When it came, the slap across her face was unexpected and snapped Sarah's head
back, leaving her dazed and rattled. The crack echoed through the room, and the
other prisoners stared in shock.
"I don't give a fuck if you're sorry. I don't give a fuck if you're tired and
scared. The only thing I give a fuck about is seeing you do what you're told,"
the man hissed, tracing the red of his hand print across her skin with his
fingers. "So, fucking do it. We're waiting."
Crying now, Sarah lifted her shirt over her head, and wriggled awkwardly out of
her shorts. Standing there in her bra and panties before everyone, she crossed
her arms over her breasts in an effort to preserve some dignity.
"On your knees, bitch," he ordered, kicking away her clothes. "On your knees,
and lick my boots. Clean up that shit you spat on me. Do a good job, or you'll
regret it."
Whimpering, Sarah sank to her knees and did as she was told. His boots were
dusty, and she grimaced as she licked her dried saliva from the steel capped
toes. He laughed as she licked, enjoying her humiliation. As she knelt over his
feet, he suddenly surprised her by pushing her backwards with his foot, and she
fell awkwardly on her back, her head hitting the hard floor. Stunned, she lay on
the ground in a jumble of arms and legs as he loomed over her.
"Good, but not good enough," he snapped, drawing his steel bladed knife. It
caught the late afternoon sun, glinting wickedly as he turned it over in his
hands.
Rob had had enough. "Leave her alone," he said, struggling against his bonds in
an effort to get loose to help Sarah. "Just leave her alone, let us go and we
won't tell. We'll leave, and we won't say a word. Right, guys?" He turned to the
rest of the group, seeking their agreement. The other woman nodded, frozen in
fear. John didn't say anything; he was still unconscious in the corner.
"You know, if you don't shut your fucking mouth, I'm gonna let my friends here
fuck your girlfriend. How about that?"
Rob went pale, and Karen, his girlfriend, started crying. Nobody said a word.
"We understand each other, then. Good man. Instead, I'm going to fuck her," he
said, nudging Sarah with his boot.
Sarah looked up at him in terror as his words sank in. "Please, no," she
whispered. "Not that. Please, let me go. Please."
"Not a chance, babe, not a chance," the kidnapper grinned, squatting down beside
her. Sarah flinched as he dragged the blade of the knife lightly over her
exposed belly, then up towards her breasts. With a practiced flick of his wrist,
the blade cut through her bra, slicing it in half. The fabric fell away,
exposing her soft, full breasts. Too frightened to move, Sarah lay helplessly on
the cold floor, begging silently for someone to help her. "Spread your legs,
slut," he ordered, twisting one of her nipples cruelly. "Knees up, and spread
'em nice and wide for us. My mates and I want to see your cunt before I fuck
it."
Sarah was really crying now, she couldn't believe what this man was planning on
doing to her in front of all these people. Try as she might, she couldn't bring
herself to do as he ordered, she just couldn't bring herself to spread her legs
like she'd been told. Instead, she gathered all her courage and tried to get to
her feet to escape but it was a futile attempt.
Knocking her back to the floor with another backhand to her face, her tormentor
wrapped his hands around her neck, his thumbs pressing painfully into her
throat. "I've just about had enough, bitch," he snarled, his blue eyes blazing
into her petrified eyes. "You're making me angry, and you don't want to get me
angry. Spread your legs, do it now, do it right now before I really hurt you."
Backhanded into submission and choking from the pressure he'd applied to her
neck, Sarah did as she was told and spread her legs.
Releasing her, he reached for the knife again. "Wider," he snapped, tracing the
blade down her naked thigh. "Nice and wide for us, babe. We want to see
everything."
Sarah complied, tears streaming silently down her face. The other captors stared
at her, drinking in her smooth, pale skin and creamy, bare breasts.
Flicking her panties with the knife blade, the leader said "Shame these are
covering your cunt, right, bitch? We can't see a fucking thing. Gotta fix that."
Then he slid the blade between the waistband and her skin, and sliced at her
panties. Reaching down, he tore the fabric away from her with one of his large
hands, leaving her totally exposed, her legs spread wide and her cunt naked and
open.
Sarah shivered as he used the tip of the blade to separate the folds of her
pussy; if she moved even an inch, he would surely cut her. Laughing, he pressed
the tip against her clit, harder, then harder still. Sarah was sure he was going
to cut her, she was sure he was going to hurt her. Then, just before he broke
the skin, he withdrew the knife and put it away. "Don't want to be cutting you,"
he remarked, "not yet, anyway. But struggle against me, and I will. It won't be
your cunt, either, bitch," he crooned, dragging a finger lightly across her
throat.
Lying there naked on the cold concrete floor, legs spread, Sarah wished with all
her heart she'd kept quiet. This man, this stranger, was going to fuck her and
use her like a piece of meat, and she'd never been so scared. With horror, she
watched him with wide eyes as he drew his gun from his pants and brought it down
close to her face.
"Can you see it, bitch?" he demanded, pressing it lightly against her lips.
Quivering with absolute terror, Sarah turned her face away from him and the gun.
Grabbing her hair again, he pulled her head back around. "Open up, slut," he
ordered. "Suck my gun like you'd suck my cock. Now."
Flushing with shame, her legs still spread wide and very much aware all eyes in
the room were witnessing her humiliation, Sarah's lips formed an "o" around the
butt of the gun as she sucked it into her mouth. "Nice," he said, softly, the
fingers of his other hand still buried in her hair. "But do you fuck as well as
you suck? Get it nice and wet, slut, cos we're about to find out."
Taking the gun suddenly from her mouth, he moved down between her spread legs
and jammed the butt of the gun against Sarah's pussy. Jerking in a reflex
action, Sarah stifled a scream as she felt the cold steel against her sensitive
flesh. "You might want to spread your legs wider, slut," he said as he probed
her soft folds harshly. "Cos I'm gonna fuck you with this gun, like it or not."
Forcing the gun into her reluctant body, he taunted her. "Looks like you didn't
get it wet enough... too bad, I did warn you." Sarah writhed with pain as the
tip of the gun sank into her cunt; she wasn't wet and her body's natural
lubrication had yet to kick in.
Sarah realised the other men had come closer to watch what was being done to
her, and she closed her eyes in shame as their leader continued to push the
barrel gun into her cunt. "Fuck, would you look at that?" one of them commented.
"This bitch is loving it!" The gun continued to penetrate her body, her pussy
lips opening wide around the cold steel. "Please, that's enough," she begged,
but her pleas fell on deaf ears as her tormentor continued to fuck her roughly
with the gun, verbally abusing her as he did so.
"You like it, slut? he asked, twisting the barrel even more deeply inside her,
bruising her delicate folds. "You like being used like the cheap slut you are,
here in front of everyone? Not so feisty now," he grunted, as Sarah pleaded with
him to stop, begged him not to hurt her any more.
"Stop? You want me to stop?" He let go of the gun, but left the barrel buried
inside her so the gun hung out of her cunt. "Okay, I'll stop. But only if you
tell me what you really want"
Sarah looked at him in shocked disbelief. What she really wanted? "I.. I don't
understand," she sobbed in confusion. "I just want you to stop, I want you to
let me go!"
"Wrong answer," he snapped, nudging the gun with his foot to remind her it was
still there. "No, baby, what you really want is for to fuck you from behind like
the animal you are. That's what you really want, isn't it?"
Realizing he'd never leave her alone until she begged him to fuck her, Sarah
complied with his demands. "Yes, that's what I want," she moaned, wishing it
were over.
"Then beg for my cock in your cunt, bitch. Beg me to turn you over and fuck you
like some cheap whore. Beg me to use you. Make it good, or I'll get my friends
here to fuck you instead. Both of them. They don't require begging." He grinned
nastily at her while he waited for her answer.
Sarah realised she had no choice. "Please," she whimpered, "Please will you fuck
me like a slut from behind? Please, I'm begging you to fuck me, please! I swear
I want you to fuck me, please use me."
He laughed cruelly as he slid the gun from Sarah's cunt and flipped her onto her
front. Her breasts grazed against the floor, tearing her skin so that blood
tricked slowly down her cleavage.
"You fucking begged for it, bitch. I'm gonna fuck you harder than you've ever
been fucked before," he grunted, drawing her hips up so that she was kneeling on
all fours in front of him. She heard him unzipping his pants, and tensed as she
felt the hardness of his cock pushing against her hole. Slapping her ass
sharply, she whimpered softly as he shoved himself into her, penetrating her now
wet cunt roughly.
Tearing into her ruthlessly, he plunged his cock into her over and over again as
she begged him for mercy. He paid no attention to her as fucked her
unceremoniously in front of her friends and his friends, her degradation and
humiliation plain for everyone to see. He slammed into her again and again, with
no thought for her feelings or discomfort. She could see the bulges in the pants
of the men in front of her as they watched her getting fucked so hard, and she
could feel the fingers of the man behind her kneading the flesh of her ass as he
pounded her cunt.
Then, in a final act of humiliation, he withdrew his cock from her used pussy
and came all over her reddened ass, spilling his cum over her as she lay on the
ground, used and bruised. Nudging her with his boot, he said, "Never piss me off
again, bitch."
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To be continued :)
