Kathleen
I quickly sneak out to my car while Yafon is busy in a meeting with Glazov. There are times I want to be alone, and today is one of those days. I have some errands to run, and that gives me the perfect excuse to get some desperately needed time away—time in which one of Glazov’s many bodyguards isn’t breathing down my neck.
I turn on the music and soak up the air conditioning. It is hot and muggy outside, and the sundress I’m wearing does little to assuage the effects of the heat wave we’re all being forced to endure right now.
My first stop will be the library. Though I have access to anything I need online, I still enjoy occasional jaunts to the local library. Like many lovers of literature, I enjoy the smell of books and the atmosphere that no other place but the library can give me.
I find myself slowly making my way down the long aisles, lovingly running my hands over the books’ spines. It is so easy to lose myself amongst the countless volumes. I must have spent more time here than I realized because when I finally do make my way up to check out the books I’ve collected, it is already late in the afternoon, and the threat of dusk is upon me.
I decide I’ll wait to do the grocery shopping I had planned on, and instead, I just hit my favorite boutique to purchase the candles I love. No one else in town carries them, so I always have to make a special trip.
“You’re right on time, Mrs. Glazov. Your favorite candles arrived today, and I set some aside in the back just for you.”
She sets the bag of candles on the counter, and I thank her for thinking of me. I have grown accustomed to being treated like royalty in town due to my husband’s prestige and power. It seems like everywhere I go, I’m either treated with reverence and favor, or hatred and contempt. I learned early on in the game to frequent the places where my husband is held in high regard.
I quickly make my way out the back door where I parked because the alley had easier access. It is a decision I will look back on and deeply regret.
I unlock the trunk and am tossing the bag in when I feel an arm slide around my neck. It all happened so fast; first there was squeezing, and then I saw black. I had no idea anyone was even watching me, and I most certainly didn’t see anyone following me. I knew I had blacked out when I wake up, and I’m in the trunk of a car, bound, blindfolded, and gagged.
I can hear music blaring through the car speakers as I scream behind the gag and kick my feet at the lid of the trunk. My legs are bound, so my kicking is a fruitless endeavor. They have used what I assume is duct tape, and the way they have me restrained makes it impossible to kick out the taillights. However, that doesn’t deter me from trying to locate them with my feet. I’m a survivor, and if this bastard thinks I’m going down without a fight, he is sorely mistaken.
When my attempts prove unsuccessful, I decide to try and get a feel for what type of road we are on. It is something my husband has taught me to do. Free, smooth, open road means we are traveling on an expressway. Frequent stops suggest inner city roads. The feel and sound of gravel likely mean rural country. The beginning of the ride had felt like expressway, and now there is a lot of stop and go. I surmise we are probably in an inner city neighborhood now. To my dismay, the ride turns back into an open road feel, which probably means my abductor is headed to a rural area. That is never a good thing. The first rule of surviving an attack is to never get into a vehicle and allow yourself to be taken from the scene of your abduction. Not that I had a choice in the matter, but I have already broken that rule. Finally, after what seems to be about thirty minutes of driving, the car stops, and the trunk is opened. I listen for voices, hoping it will help me to later identify my abductors to my husband. Even knowing the accent they have or the pitch of their voices will help Glazov track them down… if I live.
Judging by the ease with which he lifts me from the trunk, tossing me over his shoulder to carry me, I think it’s safe to assume my abductor is a man, and a strong one at that. I can hear what sounds like a chain and a lock being keyed open, followed by what sounds like a large metal door scraping against the asphalt of a parking lot.
The scraping of the door as he enters, coupled with how he locks it again behind us, lead me to believe that I am in the warehouse district, which isn’t a good thing. If I am, it means there will be no witnesses to my probable assault and possible death.
I am none too gently tossed down onto the hard floor where I immediately attempt to crawl away. Concrete bites into my knees and elbows, and I cry out in pain, despite the tight gag he has placed in my mouth. Once again, I am picked up and tossed over a man’s shoulder. When I am released this time, however, I am made to stand, and my arms are lifted up and hooked onto some sort of device. I am getting the feeling that this place might be one of those warehouses where they butcher meat, and now the fear is really setting in.
My arms are stretched up so high that the position is restricting my air intake. Between that and the fear, I am struggling for every breath. My chest heaves, and I am standing on my toes in bare feet. He must have removed my shoes while I was knocked out.
He is standing so close that I can hear him breathing, but he still hasn’t spoken as of yet. The familiar sound of a knife being flicked open sends me into a frenzy of movement and induces gag muffled screams of terror. His only response is to grab my chin. He squeezes it so hard that the gag becomes saturated with my tears of pain.
The point of the cold blade scrapes over my breastbone as it cuts through the light cotton sundress I’m wearing. The feel of the tiny stream of blood trickling down my chest that follows makes me force my body deathly still. I hear, as well as feel, the fabric fall to my feet, and then the tip of the blade cuts off my underwear.
Next comes the licking, the sucking, and the nipping of teeth all over my body as I fight the natural reaction to become aroused. My resistance only seems to spur my captor on. He shoves a thick finger of one hand into my soaked opening, and he lowers the gag from my mouth with his other. He pumps his finger in and out of me a few times, and then he places the digit between my lips in a silent command for me to suck it clean.
“Always watching, Ptichka!” Glazov growls in my ear. My suspicions are correct once again… my abductor is my husband. He slices through the tape around my wrists, catching my nude body in his arms before dropping me to the floor. I land on all fours, and he quickly cuts the tape around my ankles. He pushes down on the back of my neck, forcing me to turn my head to the side and rest my cheek on the floor while demanding I keep my ass hiked in the air. I know what he wants; he wants me open and exposed for his viewing pleasure. I can hear him stripping out of his clothing as he circles my body. He finally stops directly in front of me. His hand twists in my hair as he pulls my mouth up to his cock, and he forcefully makes me take it in. I suck and pull him into my throat as deeply as I can without choking. He lifts the blindfold up over my head and off, looking down on me with cold eyes.
“Don’t you dare make me come.”
I slow down; licking and sucking slowly, I tease him but don’t satisfy him. He jerks my head back roughly by the handful of hair he grips, forcing me to look up at him.
“What the fuck have I told you about going out without a bodyguard?”
When I attempt to speak, he just shakes his head at me, forbidding me the opportunity to defend myself for going out unaccompanied. He pushes my face back down to the floor, positions himself behind my raised ass, and slides into me. I can feel my knees scraping against the unforgiving concrete, but the pleasure and the thrill of being taken like this, overshadows any pain.
“You never tire of being taken, and I never tire of taking you. You’re mine for life,” he growls at me.
I can feel his large hands behind me, spreading my cheeks wide open so he can watch all the vile things he does to me.
“Touch yourself, baby. That’s a good girl. Let me watch you come. You look so fucking beautiful when you submit to me.”
My body clenches and throbs against him, pulling his seed from his body and milking him of all his rage. He gently lays me down on the floor. I can hear him rifling through cabinets until, finally, the feel of a soft blanket covers me. He picks me up after he dresses, and I’m still wrapped in the blanket. He carries me out to the car, goes back to the warehouse to lock everything up, and then returns to get in the driver’s seat.
“Where’s your car?”
“Yafon dropped me off in the alley where I picked you up.”
“Picked me up?” I question him, chuckling.
Yafon has worked for my husband for as long as I’ve known Glazov, and after twenty years of marriage, he is familiar with our antics. This isn’t the first time we have played abduction games.
I wrap myself up in the warmth of the blanket, hugging it close to me before I lay my head down on my husband’s lap. Feeling safe and loved, I give in to sleep while my husband drives us back to the mansion.