Mistaken Identity · Bound · Part 1 (1/2)
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Clara hated this city. It was small, it always rained and the food was just awful. But the thing that she really hated were the incompetent morons who ran this city's branch of Calicent. Calicent, one the the worlds leading business to business sales company's. Numbers were seriously down and Clara was dispatched to sort things out. Clara was a very attractive blonde. A tight fitting pencil skirt. Her toned legs were enhanced by her high heeled shoes. A tight fitting blouse covered her torso. A bright, red jacket finished her outfit 'What a bunch of idiots,' Clara thought to herself as she strode out into the street.
A light rain had begun to fall and as usual taxi's were nowhere to be seen. She had manged to finish the last meeting early and planned to grab a taxi straight to the airport. In a few hours she could fly from this God forsaken country. Even though the rain was light it was already soaking through her blouse. She looked up at the steel grey sky, there was no sign the rain was going to clear anytime soon.
“Typical,” she snorted to herself.
'Will I wait inside for a taxi?' she thought to herself, 'No, take too long. There's a taxi rank on the other side of the campus. I'll can take a shortcut through the neighbouring business's underground car park.'
She had taken this shortcut last year during a particular savage rainstorm. It had an entrance on the far side of the building and an exit this side. The underground car park may have been dark, creepy and isolated but it was dry. Clara ran as fast as she could in her heels and ducked under the barrier.
In the distance she could clearly see the other side, light pouring in to the darkness from outside. The interior of the underground car park was, however very dim, barely lit by weak fluorescent lights. Clara nervously gazed left, then right. The place seemed deserted. She focused on the other side and walked quickly across.
“Come on, Clara, don't be silly.” she encouraged herself.
As if in answer a engine suddenly came to life and the lights of a large van came on. Clara looked over her shoulder as it reversed and drove towards her.
'Phew, thank God someone else is in here. Got to lay off watching horror movies,' she thought.
Beep Beep
The van was almost beside her when the van's horn went off. The sudden noise made Clara jump. She glanced at the driver who was a pretty brunette in her mid to late twenties. The driver waved at Clara.
'Who the fuck is that,' Clara asked herself.
Clara was raising her hand to wave back at the drive when the side door of the van slide opened suddenly. Two sets of powerful, gloved hands sprung out of the dark interior of the van and grabbed Clara firmly. Things happened so fast her mind had no time to register what was going on. One set of hands grabbed her wrists while the other firmly gripped her waist. In a split second she was lifted from the ground and pulled into the dark interior of the van. This happened so fast that the only sound Clara could utter was a single, weak 'eeeppppp.'
The door of the van slammed shut and the van drove slowly out of the car park.
Clara quickly regained her composure. One of her attackers held her by the wrists while the other held her down on the floor of the van. Both men (she assumed they were men from their strength and size) wore black jackets, slacks, boots, gloves and balaclava. They were like something from a nightmare. Clara bucked and kicked her legs struggling for all she was worth. Her heel connected sharply with one of her captors thigh.
“OWWWW, Jesus, calm down.!” he cried.
“Fuck you, uhhhh, what do you want.”
“OK, you asked for it.” the other captor exclaimed.
He grabbed her upper thighs under his arm and held her down with his free arm. Clara bucked and ground in frustration. Her tight, pencil skirt had begun to climb up to her upper thighs, revealing her lower butt cheeks.
“Jesus she's strong, hurry up, cuff her,” the captor barked at his accomplice.
Clara gritted her teeth while the other man cuffed her wrist into a wide, leather cuff. In unison the two men spun Clara on her belly and despite her strongest efforts her other wrist was buckled into the leather cuff. A short metal chain linked both cuffs. Clara kicked and bucked, her feet driving into the floor of the van, her heels hitting her captor on the back. She grunted through her gritted teeth as she fought.
“Quickly, cuff her ankles, she knocking the crap out of me her.” the captor complained to his accomplice.
“Let….me….goooo.” Clara growled at the man.
One ankle then the other were secured in the leather cuffs. Clara rolled on the ground bucking like a bronco attempting to kick her assailants. Clara's temper was notorious with her colleagues at work. Her face flushed red and she literally growled like a dog.
“Jesus, she's quite a hand full.” one of the men said as he dodged Clara's vicious kicks.
“Come on, lets get her secure, quickly,” the other man produced a rope.
In a precise manner one man held her ankles while his friend tied them to her wrists. Clara's kicking was almost totally subdued in the hogtie.
“FUUHUUUCCKK, you ASSHOLES, “ Clara wailed in frustration.
“Too loud. We have neighbours.” one man quipped as he pulled a large, round sponge from a plastic zip-bag.
He held Clara's head, waited for her to shout and then shoved the sponge home behind her teeth.
“FUUUUHHHHHHPPPPPP, MMMMPPPPHHH!” her curse was stifled by the large sponge. It filled her mouth, pinning her tongue.
“Ahhh, Jesus! She bit me.” the gagger cried as Clara bit down on his fingers. She would of done more damage only the sponge didn't allow her to bite down all the way.
He fell back away from Clara holding his bitten fingers staring in fright at the bound Clara. Clara stared at him in anger.
“Jezzz, you hurt me,” he complained.
“GUUUHHHHDDDD, OUUU ASSSOOLLLEE!” Clara angrily replied.
She had begun to force the sponge from her mouth with her tongue when the other captor foiled her attempt, securing the sponged with a length of black Lycra. He tied it tightly off at the back of her head. Clara growled and shook her head in frustration. There was no way she could free herself from the leather cuffs and the sponge gag silenced her screams. Clara glared at the two men, her eyes filled with contempt.
“OOAAATT OOUU OOUUU AANNTT???” she asked.
“What do we want, “ the man replied, “ransom, your rich husband will pay a lot for you.”
“Your husband better pay for my hospital bill, I think you broke my fingers.” the other man complained.
“Quiet, you'll ruin it,” the other man whispered angrily.
“We're going to take you to our hideout. Hold you there until your husband pays your ransom and then you can go home safely.”
'Husband,' Clara thought to herself, 'I'm not even married.'
“AAHH EEAAVEE OOOO OOSAANND, EEAAH EAAVVE OO OOUSAAND!”
Clara tried to explain but the sponge turned her words into mush. Who was going to pay her ransom. She had no husband or boyfriend or friends. She hadn't even a dog. Her whole life was dedicated for work. Her co-workers hated her.
“Try and relax until we get to the hideout,” the man whose fingers she hadn't bitten said.
“And no biting or kicking,” the other snapped.
“Shush.”
“FUUUHHHHPPPPP, FUUHUUUCCKK, OONGGHHH UUHHRRRSSOON.” Clara shouted as loud as she could through the sponge which in the end wasn't very loud.
The van drove down onto the slip road, onto the highway and traveled to its destination. It looked no different to any other van on the highway.
Clara rocked back and forth in the van testing the strength of the chains that held her in bondage. She grunted, growled and cursed through her gag. Finally after twenty minuted of furious struggling she gave up. The two men sat staring at her. The man whose finger's she bit seemed a bit upset.
“Almost there, just relax, love,” the man that seemed to be the leader said.
Clara closed her eyes and rested her head on the floor of the van. It was only now that she realized that the floor of the van was covered with a soft carpet. She glanced around and noticed that the walls were padded. Was the van designed with kidnap in mind, she wondered and why should they care so much about their prey's comfort?
The van pulled off the highway onto a slip road and then entered an old business park. It slowly would it's way through the park until it came to a small warehouse all on it's own.
“UMMMPHHH?” Clara felt the van slow down and stop.
“No worries, we are here at the hideout.” the leader answered her.
The van reversed to a wide loading bay. The metal electric door slowly raised by remote control and once fully up the van rolled in. The engine died and the door lowered hiding the interior from the outside world.
The two men jumped up and slid the door open. Light from outside spilled into the van.
“Here we are, home sweet home,” the lead man called.
“MMPPPHH UUUUHH,” Clara rolled and wriggled, straining to catch a glimpse of her new surroundings. As the two men walked off she wriggled to the edge of the door and hung her head out, glimpsing left and right.
The van was in the loading bay of a small warehouse. The warehouse was empty apart from the van and what seemed to be a crude set. Someone had erected three plywood 'walls' and crudely painted them to look like red brick. A small cut window in the back revealed a crude, painted city scape. A mattress was placed in the corner. In front of the set was a camera.
'What kind of kidnappers are these?' Clara wondered.
Clara had no time to answer her question when the two men came back. Behind them was a woman also with a balaclava hiding her face.
“Put her on the mattress,” she ordered the two men.
The two men grabbed her on either side, lifted Clara and carried her quickly to the mattress in the corner of the set. Clara decided struggling now would be a mistake, falling from the men's hands to the floor would hurt.
Gently the men lowered Clara slowly onto the soft mattress. The masked woman stepped forward and stared theatrically at Clara.
“You relax there, Ruth. We'll ring your husband and arrange the ransom. He'd better pay.”
“UTH? OU EH UCK ES UUUTH?” Clara garbled through the sponge. They had taken the wrong woman.
Clara bucked and strained the cuffs that restrained her ankles and wrists. She tossed her head right and left trying to dislodge the gag.
“No use struggling Sarah, you're totally helpless,” the woman spun around, issued a fake laugh and walked away. The two men followed her. Clara was left in the room by herself.
'Those ass hole kidnapped the wrong person,' Clara thought, 'got to get out of here.'
Clara was a regular gym bunny, her body toned and flexible. She arched her back and brought her hands as far as she could and gripped the cuffs around her ankles. She snorted breaths through her nose, counted to three in her mind and straightened her body as much as she could, hoping to snap one of her bounds through sheer strength “GRUUUMMMMPPHHH!”
The force of her body suddenly straightening pulled savagely at the cuffs around her ankles and wrists. Her shoulders roared in pain from the strain. The chain attaching her wrists to her ankles snapped taut but didn't break. The cuffs around her ankles and wrists, even though they were padded with fur, burned her skin but didn't snap. Clara screamed in frustration and pain.
“AAAAHHHHHHGGGRRRRRMMPPPPHH!”
She repeated this process three times, each time not as forceful as before, the pain from the jolt shocking her. Next she tested her wrists and ankles, flexing her arms and thighs against the chains. The chains jingled like bells against her struggles. When Clara finally accepted her defeat she hung against the chains panting like a dog. She growled and mumbled in frustration into her sponge gag. Clara gazed around the room. Apart from the van and the set the building seemed empty. A set of stairs on the side led to an exit. A fire escape was beside the loading bay door was the only other way out. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a CCTV camera. Clara stared up and screamed at her watchers.
In an office the two men stared at the CCTV screen watching Clara's struggles. The younger man was still rubbing his fingers where Clara had bitten him earlier.
“Jesus what a bitch, she hasn't stopped since we picked her up,” he side.
“Relax Greg, the customer is king,” the older man laughed.
“She's booked for one more hour, then we let her go. One second my phone,” the woman said as her mobile suddenly rang in her handbag.
She fished her phone from her bag while the two men carefully watched Clara rock back and forth on the mattress.
“Hello, Claudine's Fantasy, how can I help. Oh, Hi…… OK….. I though.. Red Jacked… OK.”
The two men continued to watch the monitor as the woman talked on the phone. As the conversation continued the woman went white and looked more and more worried.
“OK, we'll take care of that A. S. A. P,” the woman hung up.
“Boys, we have really fucked up.”
The two men stared dumbly at her.
Clara had long since given up trying to free herself by the time her captors returned. She gazed up as the door opened and the three walked towards her. Clara lay on her belly relaxing her body as much as she possibly could in the loose hogtie. Her mouth was dry, the sponge soaking up any saliva that built up.
“I'm sorry, there's been a terrible mistake,” the female captor called over to Clara.
The woman walked quickly over, pulled the Lycra cloth from her face and pulled the sponge from her mouth. Clara coughed and retched when the sponge was pulled out. She worked her jaw and licked her lips in an attempt to relieve the ache in her jaw and the dryness of her mouth.
“Ggrraaagghhhhh, eeeeewwwwwhhhhh, aahhh,” she complained.
“I think we have a case of mistake identity.”
“What the fuck do you mean, 'Mistaken identity,” Clara growled when she finally got some feeling back in her mouth.
“We have a fantasy business,” the woman explained, “we arrange kidnappings for clients.”
“What?” Clara barked.
“People pay us to bundle them into the van and keep them captive for a few hours. It's a service. I'm afraid you were wearing the same outfit our client did. You were also in the agreed meeting point. No worries. We'll let you go. No damage done.”
Mistaken Identity · Bound · Part 1 (1/2)
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