Message-ID: <5399eli$9711041038@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: billchi Subject: A.S.S.M My First Submitted Story Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii; name="HOSTAGE.TXT" Content-Disposition: inline; filename="HOSTAGE.TXT" Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <345F23E5.1377@direct.ca> The Hostage - Part One by billchi F+/M - NC Kidnap/Bondage/Tickling/Fetish A QUICK NOTE - I post to and lurk in many Newsgroups. My own personal fetishes are many, but most are played out within the story outline of many girls and one guy as a "victim". I am not a lifestyle "Sub" (don't like the sight of blood especially my own) and I don't particularly like Femdom "kick the crap out of a victim" scenarios. I live a normal "Het" lifestyle but had a teen experience that scared me at the time but is a cherished memory now (perhaps I will write about that one day). This is my first "submitted" attempt and I rarely do spell and grammar checks (heh), so you English teachers out there... go easy on me. If any of you like the sort of things I outline in my story please let me know and I will continue. If you don't like it, suggest something better. If you are a writer of ero-fiction and would like to colaborate, lemme know by E-Mail billchi@direct.ca The town of Port Blade had changed a lot since he had moved ten years prior. His entire teenage years had been spent there and though he had been mostly a loner he had had some pretty good times there. As a teen he'd loved the girls at his school. So pretty and take charge by nature. He never had the guts to ask any of them out. Going to school and just seeing them seemed enough to get him through the day's boredom. All that seemed so long ago now as he drove through the town for what would be his last time. He had lived only 10 or so miles away in recent years but now he was about to move out of province. A whole new life that he half heartedly looked forward to. Being involved in his reminiscing he lost track of his fuel situation and as he was about to leave the town's confines he found himself in need of gas. When he had lived there Mariner Way was just a jumble of bushes and powerlines. Now it was a full fledged 4 lane highway with a self serve gas station, 7-11 combo situated for both incoming and outgoing traffic. Pretty bold step for a town that had once turned down a McDonald's for fear of teens congragating and partying loudly. It was about 1am as he pulled his car into the gas bays and got out to refill his tank. There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary here, other than a big old van splashed in almost every non color you could think of. A few more cars were parked in the area in front of the 7-11 but there didn't seem to be anyone around. He pulled the gas nozel from the pump and prepared to fill the tank when a voice crackled through a speaker. "You have to pay before I can turn on the pumps mister." A bored and disembodied girls voice told him. "Shit!" He uttered to himself as he headed towards the store. "How am I supposed to know how much a fill is going to cost." When he stepped inside the store he was surprised to see that not only the city had gone modern but so had the creatures of the jungle. Four girls stood by the cashier's booth talking with her, obviously friends. All of them were gorgeous, he guessed maybe 18 or 19 years old at most. They all looked the same with dark goth look makeup framed by long teased hair. Even the one who wore her dark burgundy dyed hair up had it spilling to her shoulders from a oversized black ribbon. The four at the booth looked, to him, like something out of a fetish magazine with uniform style get ups of rubber and leather. Almost like "biker fashion dipped in rubber". All of them wore heavy rubber mini skirts over latex leggings which poured down into shiny black Doc Martens boots. Over their thick angora sweaters they wore oversized black rubber biker jackets with black leather wrist length gauntlets. His eyes took in the shocking yet pleasurable image of them and then he quickly looked down in his shy manner. He stepped up to the cashier noticing she, like the others, was considerably taller than his 5'6" frame, but in her drab 7-11 uniform she seemed to be a far less imposing character than her friends behind him. "I was planning to fill my tank so how do I know how much to pay ahead of time" "What you need to do is leave your wallet here for me to turn the pump on." She said almost without any expression. He guessed that a few people drove off without paying for their gas, but did he really want to hand his wallet over to these girls? "Uh...okay whatever. By the way do you have a key to the bathroom?" He asked as he handed over his wallet. Again, with almost a monotone, she answered him. "Door's unlocked...round the side of the store there." He thought he heard them laugh him off as he walked out the door of the store and headed back to his car. When he reached the pumps, all was in order. Maybe she didn't have as much disdain for her work as it seemed... just doing her job taking his wallet. The lights of the pump blinked on ready to roll, but the nozel didn't have a latch to leave the fill unattended. "Damn, and I really gotta use the bathroom." He muttered to himself. Not wanting to spend anymore time around this place than he had to, a sudden flash of brilliance hit him. It was a warm August night so he simply slipped off his runners, threw one in the car and jammed the other into the grip of the gas nozel. He knew he'd have enough time now to go *relieve* himself so, in bare feet he headed for the bathroom. The four girls from inside the store had stepped outside for a smoke but he didn't have to go by them to get to the side of the store. He decided against stealing another look at them as he stepped into the darkness beside the store. He took a few steps as his eyes adjusted from the bright flourescents of the parking lot to the deep black of the walkway. When his eyes became functional again he noticed several more girls, just like the others, were leaning against a railing directly across from the bathroom door. They were passing around a bottle of lemon gin and smoking pot. This was getting more intense by the minute, he thought, but all his life he'd avoided possible "altercations". Building every situation beyond what it really was. They were *just* girls with no place to party, no threat to him. But where were all the guys in this town? Surely girls that looked like this had guys on a string. He kept looking and walking straight ahead. A couple of the girls kind of "Oooo'd" at him and as he reached the area of the door one of them walked directly in front of him puckering up her lips to make a "smooch" sound. They were just playing with his head he thought as he pulled the door open and stepped inside the bathroom, but he locked the door just to make himself feel safe. The bathroom was sparsely lit. Although it was a clean and large, three stall, five urinal, affair the owner of this store had chosen to only call on the power of one single strip flourescent, which hummed and cracked on it's last legs of service. He walked immediately to a urinal and unzipping his pants, he pulled his cock from his boxer shorts. He was surprised to see the effect the girls had had on him as he held his pulsing penis down towards the toilet. After several seconds the last of his stream escaped into the urinal and he knew he still had a few seconds to recompose himself and return to his car. At that moment he heard the doorknob of the bathroom begin to twist and someone began pushing hard at the door. Voices called out his name..."my wallet..." he thought in panic. "Let us in there Richard!" One yelled. More thuds against the door as it sounded like boots were now being applied to the door. He hurriedly pushed his fear-aroused cock back into his boxers and did his pants back up. His head was swimming with "what to do's" and because they already had his wallet it was abundantly clear that they didn't plan to rob him. "What could they want?!?" He wondered as he stepped up to the door in panic. The car he sumized. Their van was broken down and now they wanted his car, was his guess. No car was worth getting mugged by ten or more girls. Should he open the door and offer the car? What if they just wanted to beat him up for being courageous enough to walk right by them. His mind bounced back to the car... "DAMN!" By now it was either close to full, or spilling gas all over the parking lot. That *problem* was quickly dashed as the very running shoe he'd used to keep the nozel open came sailing through the small opened window, above the door. They want me!!! Why?!? It had grown silent outside the door, which he was now leaning against. He knew they were still grouped there. He could hear them talking to each other. Then he heard one say "Listen up boy..." And the sound of a key being thrust into the lock on the doorknob nearly stopped his overpaced heart. With all his might, he braced himself against the door. But the floor was high polished tile and even bare foot he couldn't get the kind of leverage they all had with boots on the cement sidewalk. He was losing this battle rapidly. It was like one of those nightmares where no voice came when you needed to yell or beg. He managed to keep the door mostly shut when suddenly the lights in the bathroom went out. If the cashier had been a willing enough participant to hand his wallet over to these girls, she now dealt another faceless blow to him by killing the fuse switch powering the dim bathroom. Plunging him into complete darkness. His only chance was to reason he told himself, since he was certainly in no position to hold back all the weight put to their side of the door. "Okay... I.. I'll open the door...please stop pushing or you'll fall." Care for their well being and who knows, right? Wrong! He slowly opened the door and managed to get the "Wha.." part of "what do you want" out before a steady stream of girls began to push inside the bathroom, forcing him back. He couldn't make out any faces and the only light were the embers of a few girl's cigarettes. They didn't say a word. They just kept pushing into the room until he was backed up to a waist high heat register. The warmth crept up his back and he noticed for the first time that he was dripping in sweat. There had to have been close to fifteen of them in line upon line of dark figures. He could now see the sheen of each rubber and leather outfitted body in the dark. "What do y-y-you want f-from me?" he asked. His choked words sounding a lot higher in octave than usual. Without an answer they began to grab for him. Arms and gloved hands wrapped around and grabbed him everywhere. He felt as if the world's largest python had just descended upon his whole body at once. He couldn't budge and taking large gulps of air he began to come under the "spell" of their perfume. He felt a gloved palm clasp down over his mouth and the door to the bathroom was pushed shut and again locked. He writhed and squirmed but couldn't budge much at all. Each attempt to break free became a seperate last ditch effort, prepared for by his dwindling strength reserve and squashed just as quickly by their unrelenting grasps. "That's right darling, work yourself weak and you'll be so much easier to kidnap!" One purred into his ear. He immediately began to buck wildly in their arms, which had about as much effectiveness as his struggling before he knew their intentions. Not knowing if it had been her teasing his ear or his new knowledge of his demise that had made him jerk so strongly, she went back to his ear again and playfully nipped at it. "No-No-No!" He cried, through the hand clasped over his mouth, his body again going into spasmodic rythm. "Mmmmm-Yes-Yes-Yes." She laughed into his ear as the others felt his fighting become weaker and weaker. They had him cold. Their first male captive... a toy. The room erupted with their defiant cheering and taunts to their muscle spent captive, who lay completely subdued and weak in their grasps. They held him that way for nearly 10 minutes. Not loosening their hold or letting him move. His clothing became soaked with his sweat and every breath he took was a wash of chocolate like rubber scents or sweetened more so with their heavy perfume. He was in first stages of shock at what little had been done to him already. He'd always lived the "man is the breadwinner" lifestyle drummed into him by his father and society at large, so to be so utterly helpless at the hands of girls likely 10 years younger than him was a total and imbarassing defeat. They still continued to cheer, laugh and taunt but individual voices came clear to him as he lay there subdued. "We'd better get him tied up and get out of here." "Yeah, how much longer `til Sarah get's off work?" "Two hours, but we don't wanna be seen dragging a man out of here by the next shift. Sarah can drive our boy's car to the house when she get's off work." "Yeah, tie him up and let's get goin', now!" None of them relented their grip much but he did feel his legs being forced together as some sort of fabric, likely silk scarves, were wrapped around his ankles, tying his bare feet together. "Oooh, skin!" One giggled as she dragged her gloved fingers across the soles of his feet. Again he bucked as much as their tight grips would allow. "Looks like he's a ticklish captive girls!" "We're just gonna have to see where else our Li'l boy is sensitive. And darling, we won't be disturbed, so put any thoughts of us stopping out of your mind right now." That was it for him. He felt a few more begin to toy with his feet as his arms were forced above him and also tied, tightly, at the wrists. This initial "meeting" and their finding one of his worst fears and weaknesses so quickly was enough to send him fully into mental flatliner. He laid there wide eyes of horror taking in nothing but the blackness sorrounding him. Purplish clouds seemed to swirl in his sight with each hard pound of his heart. Sure, if he'd been sitting around with a buddy talking about this type of scenario he might have said, "Sounds like a good time, to me!" Bravado is all it would be because as he lay wondering what they were going to do with him he was in complete terror. End of Part One -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /