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Captured For Sex

(Part 2 from 7)

It felt like eyes were staring at her, her unseen assailants checking out their capture. She was wearing a blue sweater, jeans and sneakers. Her jeans were low cut, hugging her hips and fit her ass like they were poured on her. Even though she was not a virgin, she did not “sleep around. She did love to tease men with her clothes. Her sweater was short enough to leave a bare patch of flat stomach to entice any male and she regretted it now. She wished she was dressed in baggy sweat pants and sweatshirt. She was wearing a matching set of black bra and thong, another regrettable decision now.

She felt someone get on the bed next to her, trying to turn over to evade them, but a pair of hands grabbed the rope connecting her wrists and ankles and pulled her back. She could feel the ropes being pulled and suddenly her legs fell back down, released from her wrists. A hand rubbed her ass, her hips pushed into the mattress. She began to squirm, hoping to move away, not caring about the pain of the tight ropes, just wanting to stop the molesting hand that rubbed her ass like he owned it. Another slap on her ass, a painful sting. The hand returned to begin again rubbing her ass cheeks. She started squirming again, the slap again, this time harder. He was telling her to stop squirming. Her ass stung from his hand but she was not about to give in. Thank goodness for jeans, they bore the brunt of the slaps. When the molesting hand returned she started moving her hips from side to side, hoping to evade the molester.

She felt another pair of hands at her feet, the tight ropes suddenly loosened, but not before they were painfully pulled, burning her skin as they were pulled off. Hands held her ankles together, while she felt the other pair of hands move up to her face. The earplugs were pulled out, suddenly her head full of noises. She shut her eyes, the blindfold released, the glare of the harsh lights suddenly blinding her. She squinted, her vision finally coming back. She was in a rustic log cabin. It was a small one room cabin with a small kitchenette with a wooden table and chairs. The living room and bedroom, or more precisely the bed was in the same room as the couch and chair. It was sparsely furnished. A small fireplace seemed to be warming the cabin.

She looked up and finally saw her captors. Her thoughts of a quick escape diminished. They’re two, muscled men, early forties, over six feet tall. While not ugly, they were not attractive either. Both men showed rugged features, their hard life etched into their features. She looked back at the one behind her, one large hand encircling both of her ankles and holding them tight, grinning as he did. She looked at the other, his face only inches from hers, a big, mean smile on his face. She shook her head, “MMMMM”, the only sound coming from her gagged mouth.

He pinched her nose shut again, the panic in her eyes again. She felt the hands tighten on her ankles as she began to struggle for the precious air that she was being deprived. Her captor smiled as she bucked around on the bed, his finger tight on her nose. She began to slow, the oxygen deprivation sapping all of her strength.

“Are you going to behave and keep your mouth shut if I remove the gag?” his voice a loud, raspy voice.

She barely had time to nod her head, the dizziness coming on again. The fingers released her nose just in time again, the sound of her nose sucking in the precious air filling the room. The hand stayed on her face, running over her features. It moved like a lover would, outlining her eyes, nose and mouth as if trying to memorize them. Fingers moved around her tightly stretched lips, her nose inhaling the foul smell on his hands. They pushed inside her mouth, grabbing the soaked cloth and began to slowly pull it out. It dripped on her chin as it came out, her spit having soaked it completely. She spit, the fuzz from the cloth still filling her mouth.

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“Please, let me go and I wouldn’t tell anyone. You haven’t done anything yet.” Her voice was determined, hoping that her demands would scare them into releasing her unharmed. That was her biggest worry. They did not seem to care that she saw their face and could recognize them. Her biggest fear before was rape. Now she feared that they might kill her. “Otherwise you will end up in jail for a long time.”

“Bring her over to the table,” one of her captors seemed to be the leader, the other grabbing her by her bound wrists and pulling her to her feet. He pulled her over to the table, sitting her down onto a bench. He stood behind her, his body pressed up against her. She could feel a hard cock pushed into her shoulder blades. She had never felt anything that big before. They were going to rape her. She was sure of that now. She had to find a way to resist and hope she could get a chance to escape. The one behind her picked up a billy club and pushed it behind her bound arms. He yanked it up, forcing her body upright, her chest pushed out. She had beautiful, full breasts, with large, hard nipples. At her age, they would stand up by themselves, capped by her dark areolas and pink nipples.

The leader came over to her, her eyes widening in fear. He had a pistol in her hand. He moved in front of her, placing his legs on the outside of hers, straddling her bound body. He grabbed her under the chin, lifting her face up to him, the one behind her yanking up on her arms, forcing her into an upright position. “What do you want?”

He moved the gun around her face, letting the muzzle trace around her mouth, letting the tip of the gun sit on her lips. She watched him in fear, watching the finger on the trigger, afraid he would accidentally or on purpose pull the trigger. He tilted her head back more, her pleading eyes staring into his cold eyes. 

He grabbed her face tightly, forcing her head up painfully, the gun place on her mouth, “with a body like yours, you have to ask a question like that.”

She jerked her head back and forth, hoping to escape the gun pushed into her lips. “Please, please let me go,” she begged. She felt her arms pulled up in back, the leader’s hand becoming more demanding, her head held tightly.

“Such a lovely thing you are,” the gun playing along her chin before moving down the front of her sweater. “Are you going to let us fuck you?”

“No,” she exclaimed, “never.” She was defiant, hoping that she could convince them to let her go or she would find her chance to escape. She felt the pistol return to her breasts, the side of the barrel caressing her breasts, moving back and forth over them, sliding between them, the barrel pushing into her nipples. She squirmed, the one behind her yanking on her arms. He seemed to be humping his hard cock into her back in a rhythm, almost like he was fucking her, trying to drive the big cock into her shoulder blades.

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