Kidnapped – And The Ransom Is High: Part II

An original story for Baroness V by Reagan Cornwall

I lost complete track of time as I stood bound and helpless.  
The hood on my head left me in complete darkness, a bar kept my legs spread apart, the chain attached to a collar around my neck and fastened above me kept me from twisting my neck or even moving any part of my body. My shoulders ached, the penalty of my hands being cuffed tightly behind my back for so long, and my leg muscles were beginning to cramp in protest from being forcibly held apart as they were, and in one position.
Off in the distance, I could hear the muffled chatting and laughing of the two women who’d taken me but, thanks to the hood on my head, I couldn’t really make out anything they were saying.
My mind drifted back to the beginning. Was it an hour ago? Two hours? Yesterday?
As I said, I lost track of time since the moment I was walking along my quiet, dark street when a car pulled alongside me. Inside were the two women, asking directions. When I walked over to offer help, they jumped out and blindfolded me before shoving me into the back seat and cuffing my hands and ankles. I was kidnapped.
Who are they? Why me? Was I grabbed because I happened to be there as they were driving by or had they been plotting my abduction for a while? Everything happened so fast, I never got a look at their faces so nothing registered. Did I know them, maybe? I had no idea.
I was left with my questions – and my fear, which skyrocketed as I realized I could hear the click of their heels getting louder as they walked across a wooden floor and were coming towards me. Now their voices became more distinct, too, yet they suddenly became quiet and stopped walking. I assumed they’d entered the room where I was imprisoned.
A few heel clicks on the floor and one of the pair sent a shudder through me as She brushed Her gloved hand down my bare back. I stiffened from the surprise sensation and immediately grew hard.
“Bitch,” a voice barked at me, “get that down and soft. I don’t want that thing jumping around at us. Give me the cage,” the voice directed the other woman.
Suddenly, I felt a pair of hands grabbing my cock and balls, forcing them into something cold and hard. She shoved my erect cock inside what felt like a steel cage, stuffed the balls under it and closed the device around me. The serious cold steel on my cock and balls, coupled with the pain the device inflicted, took my breath away and I emitted a sharp cry.

I was immediately hit on the ass, hard. The sharp sting made me lurch, almost losing my balance in the process. Since the chain leading down from the ceiling was still attached to my collar, I fought to stay upright lest I choke myself. “Boy, listen to me,” the female voice said in a quiet but stern tone. “Are you listening?” I nodded my head, or as much as I could given my limited movement. “Good. Let me explain your situation to you,” She began. Her heels began clicking on the floor and I realised She was walking around my body. “You don’t know who we are, why we grabbed you off the street, where you’ve been taken or what will happen to you.” Click, click, click. She kept moving. “You don’t even know what we look like.” The circling of me continued. “You won’t learn any of this until we decide to tell you. Understand?” I nodded again. “From the moment we took you off the street, you became our prisoner, our slave, our pet and our toy. You’re here to serve and please us, and we’re here to make your life a living hell.” Terror gripped my abdomen and I felt my bowels squeeze. “I assume you have some questions. Maybe many questions,” She said. I nodded in agreement and She continued, “I’m sure you do. I know what they are. “First, you won’t be missed. My girlfriend, who you’ll also serve, is a computer hacker. She was even arrested once but we got Her off. While you were strung up Here, She went into your e-mail and sent several messages from you. “One was sent to your boss. As of this evening, you resigned from your job. One was sent to your girlfriend, breaking up with Her. Some of the things you wrote in the e-mail made sure she won’t contact you again. A third was sent to your sister, letting Her know that you were being sent to Europe on business and won’t be back for a month.” She paused to let all what She’d said sink in to me. Basically, I was just cut off from my work, my life and my family. I was isolated, totally alone and completely at the mercy of my two captors. A sense of desperation was growing in me.

“Oh, and we took care of your bank account.” She laughed a little. “My friend closed your account and electronically transferred your money to a blind, numbered account at a bank in the Cayman Islands. Oh. I happen to own that account.”

Shit. I was unemployed, alone and broke, and being held by two very clever but totally insane women. Helplessness overwhelmed my feelings of desperation.
“When you are given an opportunity to speak, you will address me as One. You will call my friend ‘A’. There’ll never be a need for you to know our real names. I think One and A are clever, don’t you? To you, we are both equal.”
She paused. I didn’t know if I was supposed to nod or mumble an answer. As I was considering my options – as if I had any – the other pair of high heels clicked across the floor, coming towards me. Without warning, I was hit between my shoulder blades twice with something thin, stinging and hard. I screamed into the gag stuffed in my mouth and jumped against the intense, red hot, pain. The chain attached to my collar pulled taught and I felt my legs going out from under me. For a moment I felt myself fighting for air as the collar pulled tightly against my throat and choked me.
I felt four hands grabbing my body to put me back into position.
“Don’t do that again,” the second voice warned me. It was softer than the other woman’s, and She had a slight French accent. “Next time, we’ll just let you strangle yourself.”
As I regained my breath, I wondered if that was an idle threat or a genuine promise. Either way, I didn’t plan on finding out.
A moment passed before A, the second voice, spoke.
“I want to fix him tonight, before we go to bed,” She said to Her cohort. “Shall we?”
The other woman, One, replied with a chuckle, “Alright, sure. Why not?”
Fix me? My mind reeled: Did they mean “fix” the way somebody “fixes” a dog by spaying or neutering? Jesus, what is going to happen, I wondered as my abdomen cramped hard again.
I heard them moving around the room and what sounded like water running. Then, I was doused with very warm but not quite hot, soapy water. Quickly, I felt two razors against my skin – one on my chest, the other working its way up my legs. For the next several minutes, they worked at removing my all of my body hair: legs, chest, pubic, underarms.

Despite my situation, it felt oddly erotic and I sensed my cock trying to grow hard, but the steel cage encasing my cock and balls made it impossible. When they were done, they splashed more water on me and I felt it run down my body; then I was being dried with two rough, coarse towels.

“Now we’re going to shave your head,” A told me, “which means removing your hood. We will shine a bright light in your eyes so you can’t open them until We blindfold you again.”

With that, the lacing that held the leather hood tight against my head was undone. A collar was slipped around my neck and I heard the chain being attached to it. As the hood was slipped off of me, I was blinded by a flashing strobe of not more than two or three feet in front of me. I couldn’t open my eyes if I wanted to. One of the women stuffed something into my mouth to take the place of the gag in the hood.
I felt a cotton bandage being taped over one of my eyes, then the other. As soon as both patches were secure, I heard a buzzing sound near my ear as an electric razor removed my thick, brown hair like a new Army recruit.
“he looks like a little boy,” A said, admiring Her handiwork. “Is the iron ready?”
“Almost,” One said from across the room. “Another minute and I can unplug it.”
Iron?
I almost lost control of my bowels.
She continued. “Since you are Our property, you must be marked as Our property. This will prevent you from even thinking of leaving. You will wear two marks: One on your upper chest, just below the right shoulder, the other on your ass. They will both hurt and you’ll probably pass out from the pain when We brand you.”
Oh, my God, I thought. Even if I get out of here somehow, I’ll have scars forever.
“One will do it on five so you can prepare yourself. One … two … three … I lied,” She snorted.
And with that the hot branding iron touched my ass and I screamed in pain. I could smell my flesh burning and began to fall limp against the bonds holding my upraised arms. Yet I was jolted bolt upright almost immediately as the iron burned into my chest between my right nipple and shoulder. Another muffled scream poured from deep inside me.
I was hurting, badly. The smell of my own burned flesh filled my nostrils. I felt myself drifting, a kaleidoscope of intense colours racing past my taped eyes. Inside my head, a buzzing sound grew louder and then everything went black as I passed out.