Message-ID: <32703asstr$1001743804@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: timidt@NS_hotmail.com (Timid) X-Original-Message-ID: <3bb51c57.35794451@32.97.166.131> X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Sat, 29 Sep 2001 00:56:58 GMT Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Vanishing Point Part 10 (M/ff, B and D, Kidnap) Date: Sat, 29 Sep 2001 02:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: hecate, gill-bates ***************************************************************** STANDARD DISCLAIMER =================== The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and has been posted only to an appropriate group on the Internet. If it is found in any other place this is not the responsibility of the author. The authors explicitly prohibits. 1) The posting of this story in an incomplete form. 2) The use of this story in a larger work without his express permission. 3) The use of this story on any CD, BBS or Website without the written permission of the author. This work is copyright TM Quin and timidt 2000 All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which are dangerous or illegal. Timid and Quin 2000 timidt@hotmail.com tmquin@attglobal.net ***************************************************************** Vanishing Point Part 10 (Elizabeth) =================================== My mind still was having trouble comprehending the events of the past twenty-four hours. First seeing Keith and Ruth....together, screwing like there was no tomorrow. And then...then to get abducted, raped, tied in a chair with that ridiculous tape playing in my ears all night. Even seeing that sick woman Thelma dressed up like me. And they think that's going to work? These people are crazy...insane. But then, then, to see the coffin he wanted to enclose me in. A box, the space so small, so very small. I started to tremble, cry. I could feel the hysteria creeping up inside me..... Elizabeth faded away. Again. Hiding like she always has from the unpleasantness and pain. She looked at Master Ben with fear and pain in her eyes. She felt him removing the gag, loosening it and pulling it slowly from her mouth. His eyes were merciless, if curious. Swallowing, moistening her lips, Elizabeth spoke haltingly. "Oh, God, Please....you can't. I'll do anything...pay you anything. Just no...you can't put me in there. Oh, god no...you can't. I can't. Please...oh, god please...." She babbled on and on, gibberish, begging, pleading. Ben looked at her somewhat dispassionately, curiousity creeping into his eyes. "If you're good, it won't be forever. Not if you're good. But, I have to do this now. And you have to learn that what your master says, goes. It's a hard lesson, Liz. A very hard lesson. But you will learn it." He bent to lift her into small space. Elizabeth twisted, turned, struggled. Ben found it hard to keep a grip on her sweating damp skin. With a sharp slap to her cheek, he tried to subdue her. But Elizabeth fought like a caged animal. A high, keening wail emanated from deep inside her. Fearing someone would hear, Ben threw her harshly to the floor of the camper, slapping his hand on her mouth. Fumbling in a nearby drawer, he pulled out a prepared syringe, jabbing it into her arm. ***************************** When she awoke, Elizabeth was in the box. She could feel the tubes that handled her most basic functions. Everywhere was dark. She knew not even if her eyes were open or closed. All that existed was her mind, and the memories. Long buried memories that forced their way through the layers of her subconscious. I tried to shake myself. Mentally slapping myself back into reality. I couldn't run away, not any longer. I laid my head down and tried to sleep.... to forget....to plan. The dreams came soon. Ruth as a child. The golden child. Always the favorite. The baby of the family. At 13, she had been the most popular girl in her class. At 15, she was the most popular girl in school. I was always in her shadow, it seemed. Even being two years older, I still followed in her light, no one noticing me. I was scared of Ruth. Terrified of Ruth. I still remembered when Grandmother died. And in my dream the day came back with a reality I couldn't bear. I was ten, Ruth was eight. The dream played back the memory with a vividness I could hardly bear, but I slept on. The funeral home with my parents, looking at the caskets. We'd wandered a bit away and, before I knew it, we were off in another room by ourselves. Ruth mischievously climbed into one of the satin lined coffins and smiled and giggled. "Look," she laughed. "It's like a bed! Try it, Lizzie. Try one!" I didn't want to. But I did. I couldn't let my baby sister show me up. So, I climbed into one. And laid down. And felt the softness envelope me. Closing my eyes a moment, I imagined what it would be like for Grandmother to be here for the rest of eternity....forever. Then I felt more than saw the lid descending, heard the minute clicks as it was locked. And I was entombed in the satiny softness of the casket. By Ruth. From a distance, I could hear her giggling. I pounded and screamed. But it was hours before I was found. Hours trapped there. With a start, I jerked awake. I remembered. Remembered it all. And I hated Ruth more than ever. I had never told anyone what had really happened. It had been put down to a silly accident and never spoken of and I forgot. And that was when my drifting off had begun, looking in on my life instead of living it. That was the moment Elizabeth was born. And the present coffin remained. The padding was soft, the restraints bearably tight. The inflatable gag in my mouth, the tubes and catheters. I closed my eyes, again (were they ever open?) and drifted off to sleep. Liz was nude save for a breif strip of fabric stretched tightly across her nipples and chest. Her breasts swelled becomingly above and below the strip. Her arms, encased in windings upon windings of rope, were stretched high above her head. Her feet, in five inch heels buckled snugly to her feet, were spread wide and tied to rings in the floor. Her head was hanging down, her hair covering her face. No response to the opening of the door. No reaction to the sudden touch of her belly. "Look at me, Liz," the voice was soft and kind. "Open your eyes and look at me. I'm doing what's best for you. you know that." Liz felt the fingers gently running along her slit, teasing her opening and massaging her clit. Involuntarily, she felt herself responding, the juices beginning to flow. With a sigh, she lifted her head, the hair falling back to free her vision. There, before her, stood Keith, his eyes filled with love and caring. His arm was around her, holding her tightly while his other hand gently teased her making her gasp and moan. His gentle voice in her ear. "You're mine now. You are a slave. You are nothing but a slut. You are...." And he became Ben tormenting her, teasing her, pushing her over the edge into orgasm. ************************************************** To contact the Author Please remove the _NS_ from the return address. ************************************************ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+