The Inconvenient Witness

 

 

  

First of all, let me tell you that I am not a slut nor a pervert.

 

I had this relationship with some guy that doesn’t deserve to have his name mentioned ever again for three years, and after we broke up I got a bit… depressed and my friends started to drag me along with them on Friday and Saturday nights every week. It was in one of this weekends that I met Roger for the first time.

 

Think about ‘Mr. Perfect’ and make it better, that’s a good start to understand who was Roger to me. He was kind, gentle and wonderfully honest from the start. He was tall, strong (a bit bulky actually) and very handsome, and believe it or not he was single and wasn’t gay. He didn’t wanted any sort of ‘serious’ relationship with me so we went to exotic and charming restaurants, danced in the best clubs and had always a great time. And yes, I had sex with him, but only after the fifth weekend. We spent eight months in this way, no serious commitments and fun and fun and fun! Then came that dreadful night.

 

For the fourth time Roger and me pretended to be newlyweds, just for the duration of the weekend, and went to a very small and cozy hotel, this time it was a two stories one in the mountains. We arrived very late due to the weather, Jack Frost had came earlier that year and the whole universe had turned white around us, but Roger was an excellent driver and he made it there around 10 p.m., we had reservations under the name of ‘Mr. and Mrs. White’ and went to our small room straight away.

 

We ordered that dinner and other meals were delivered in the room and spent the whole Saturday there, doing exactly what you’re thinking. After we showered together, sometime around 8 p.m., Roger asked me if I wanted to do something ‘unusual’. He went on and told me that he had this fantasy with me that he wished to fulfil, but he was afraid that I might not only dislike the idea but think of him as a freak of sorts.

 

He wanted to tie me up. I won’t say that I enjoyed the idea, but he has been such a great guy so far that I let him expose his idea to me.

 

He charmed me and I decided to give it a try, he would bind and gag me and leave me like that for 10 minutes, if after that time I was still a go he made promises of a great night to me. We had been naked for hours but somehow I didn’t wanted to be bound by him while uncovered, so I picked a beautiful red silk set of bra and panties and put it on.

 

He started putting my hands palm to palm and tied the wrists with a very soft rope, I took a quick look over my shoulder and saw various pre-cuts pieces of rope of different lengths on the bed, a ball-shaped sponge and a long white scarf. At this moment he lashed my elbows and drawn them as together as possible, they didn’t touched but got very close, and then he grabbed a long piece of rope and starting at the elbows tie lassoed my arms to my torso passing loop after loop of rope above and below my ample breasts. Next he helped me to seat on the edge of the bed and tied my ankles together, he took the chance to tickle me a little, and was starting to tie a piece of rope above my knees when the phone rang.

 

We both looked irritated when he answered, then his face got pale as he got the message from the receptionist. Then someone grabbed the phone on the other side of the line and said a few words to him. He started to stammer profusely and took a moment to compose himself... and told the woman at the counter to allow ‘her’ to come in!

 

All I could say to him was ‘are you married?’ before him, realizing that I was there (he really had forgot about me!), jumped on me while grabbing the sponge with one hand! He pushed it inside my mouth (behind my teeth) and grabbed the long scarf. I was shouting angry and muffled remarks at him when he grabbed my chin with both hands, looked into my eyes and said ‘I’ll explain everything! But please be quiet, don’t make any sound or we both are DEAD! Do you understand me? DEAD! She’s not my wife but my boss, and I am not the European transnational big company’s executive that I told you I am... sorry’. With that he wrapped the long scarf around my head (below my nose) four times making sure that I wasn’t going to be able to spill the sponge. Next he grabbed me and carried me in the bridal fashion to the closet door, opened it and put me inside.

 

Now I am not the bimbo of the movies who ends up doing exactly what I am not told to just because I am mad at the person who gave me the order. His weird behavior was totally unexpected to me and, whoever was this woman, he was really afraid of her. And if a man that stands at 6’4”, 220 lbs. of well shaped and developed muscles and so strong presence is afraid of someone, then I am afraid of that person as well. So I kept myself as quiet as possible but, of course, I took a peek at the newcomer.

 

First of all, what attracted me in her was her presence. She could captive anyone’s attention with it, the epitome of a magnetic charm. I felt very intimidated, and not only because I was bound and gagged standing hidden inside a closet. If the roles were reversed I would probably feel the same, trust me on that one. The second thing that I looked was her body. And I compared hers to mine, specially after she started to treat Roger (whom she called ‘Tom’) with an obvious seductive and malicious way.

 

I told you I am not a bimbo, but I do have a voluptuous body (Ok, here’s my measurement: 5’6½ in., 34D-24-33). I have shoulder length jet black hair, brown eyes and what is usually described as a cute smile. She was taller than me by a couple of inches, bust size and other measurements about the same as mine, an obviously dyed red hair and piercing blue eyes. She wore a male turquoise business suit that fitted her perfectly and white gloves.

 

While obviously flirting with Roger/’Tom’ she started to ask him questions about a ‘job in Milwaukee’. He answered the questions politely and with firmness in his voice, but his hands started to shake at random intervals. She asked him then to describe the job.

 

That’s when I got a severe disappointment with Roger. He was a thief! And a kidnapper!

 

He said that in order to gain access to the ‘data’ he had to ‘visit’ the doctor’s house and left with his daughter inside the trunk of the doctor’s own car! The bossy dyed woman made questions about the girl he kidnapped and he told that she was an early twenties African-American gal, 5’6”, medium bra size and a few other things. She was alone at the house as predicted and was sleeping her bed when he invaded her room, wearing only a short pink slip and a pink bikini cut pair of panties. She was very cooperative when she saw the (empty) gun he pointed at her as she woke up with his hand over her lips.

 

He quickly bound and gagged her and carried her downstairs after he snapped a photo of her and got it printed in her own printer. He drove her to ‘safehouse no.3’ and let her at the care of ‘Guardian A4’ for a couple of days while he managed to ‘convince’ the doctor to give him the half of the ‘data’ that he could. He let the girl and her father exchange a few words after that but had to keep her for more three days until he had a chance to get the other half of the ‘data’, since the doctor’s complete silence was crucial for it.

 

So the doctor said that his daughter was visiting relatives to his co-workers and helped him to lure the other doctor to a trap. This second doctor was a mid-forties woman that was the living cliché of a scientist. She wore glasses, had a weird voice with a very strong European accent, never was seen without her baggy and shy clothes and got a beuatiful body under it.

He took her to ‘safehouse no.3’ and after the ‘trick of the dubbed victim’ (to put it simple, Roger/‘Tom’ started to treat roughly both doctor no.2 and the daughter of doctor no.1, then he grabbed the young girl and took her to an adjacent room, there he reinforced the girl’s gag while ‘Guardian A4’ dubbed the screams of she being ‘tortured’ by him!) and, pressed by this clever trick of psycological torture, the doctor no.2 gave him the access to the other half of the ‘data’. Both women were reunited in the same room after he found out that the doctor was telling the true and had all the ‘data’ with him, being set free two days later.

 

The problem, according to the woman, was that the data he had gave to the ‘Organization’ was fake. And Roger/‘Tom’ didn’t seemed too surprised with that. He was sweating now. She then asked him how much the competition had paid him to deliver them that fake ‘data’ and at first he denied it, then after some pressure he admitted that he had received about three million to do so. The woman slapped him in the face, then turned her face to the closet door and called my name. She knew that I was in the room and knew my name!

 

I couldn’t open the closet from the inside, so she opened the door and appraised me. Now I was as frightened of this woman as he was. She touched my face and I coiled back in fear. She said that I had no reason to be afraid at all, for she had no intention to kill me nor sell me to some overseas fifth class brothel. Weirdly I didn’t felt anything sexual in her behavior towards me, which I am glad since I don’t swing that way. She said that she was going to protect me and, unbelievably, I trusted in her.

 

Then there was this knock at the door. Four quick knocks and two shorts. She placed her index finger over my cleave gagged lips and grabbed me in her arms, two large steps later she knelt by the bed and placed me on the floor and rolled me to under the bed. I tried to protest but this time her whole hand was over my mouth. She yelled ‘one minute’ and then whispered to me to worm my way till I was completely hidden by the large double bed.

 

I did so and, from my point of view, could only see their feet and hear roughly half of what they said, I’m not sure but the woman seemed to relax when a woman said ‘Open up in the name of the decency!’. The woman said that it was Melody and that she ‘must have finished dealing with the other clients of the place’ and opened the door.

 

Both he and the mysterious woman fell on the floor the next moment. Five pair of feet entered the room after that, two dragging by force one with them (and this one had its ankles crossed and tied) and other two running to the side of the woman. The owners of the laters knelt at her side (with their back to me) and immediately proceeded to tie her up.

 

I saw a pair of hand opening her mouth and packing it with a folded handkerchief, next six or seven strips of tape were smothered over her closed lips and finally a sack covered her head. At the same time her hands, arms, knees and ankles were taped together by the other man. Then one of them grabbed the bound, gagged and drugged woman in his arms, and her red wig fell on the floor, and left the room following the pair of feet that wore the most expensive shoes of them all who seemed happy since he was whistling something.

 

Next a struggling bound girl was shoved to the floor. Unable to protect her head she hit the floor a little bad and got a bit dizzy, and recovered her senses looking straight to an equally bound and gagged girl hidden under the bed… She looked surprised for a second, and then one of her captors knelt besides her and started to reinforce her bonds.

 

She was a tall and strong mid-thirties woman. They had used rope, tape and steel on her. She was gagged with tape and her cheeks were bulging with whatever they had packed her mouth with, rope was everywhere in her upper torso, above & below & crisscrossing her breasts and running around her armpits as well, thus pinning her arms behind her back in a way that showed no mercy. Her hands were cuffed, her fingers taped and her legs had tape and rope everywhere, it seemed that they had used both at the same time.

 

The man knelt with his back to me was tying a rope connecting the handcuffs to the rope in her ankles, tight enough so her fingers touched the soles of her feet and she was arched back a little, with her body not being able to touch the floor completely at once. Then he slapped her butt hard and made lewd jokes as he and his partner left the room talking between themselves about having to go to a place called Vanbury, Wanburry, Wanbur....

 

All the while the woman acted as if she hadn’t seen me, but as soon as she was sure that they were not coming back she turned her head to me and started to scream at me. Due to the fact that she was so well gagged I couldn’t hear much of what little sound she managed to pass through the packing stuff and tape, but then her hands started to move in the ‘come here’ way, and I realized that she was telling/ordering me to move out from under the bed.

 

It was hard to move like a worm and crawl to her, it was a first for me and along the way my right breast got out of its silken confinement, but she didn’t bothered to yell muffled orders and incentives at me all the way. She managed to move a little too and when I saw it her head was poking my back, trying to reach my fingers.

 

It took a short while, and she still complains that one of my fingers nearly blinded her, but I managed to grab the tape covering her lips and slowly peel it off of her. Then I had to remove two socks from inside her mouth! After a minute or two she found her voice back.

 

‘You’re Ann right? Ann Dobson, the girl that Tommy is ******** lately, right? Listen up cause we don’t have too much time. It was all a trap, they seized the whole hotel for make it happen and for that trap works perfectly they can’t leave any witnesses behind, so they’re going to kill us all! Everybody in this hotel! The only reason why they didn’t shoot me, this ************ snoring behind you or the others is that their boss is a mean sadistic bastard. Probably he set a bomb to explode or a very convenient gas leak with deadly consequences is happening as I speak. You have to get down on the lobby and...’

 

She gave me various instructions and urged me to do so ASAP! First thing first I need to stand up, so instead of worm my way to the nearest wall, I spin (like a log) to it. As I was struggling to stand, forcing by back against the wall and doing my best to go up) the rope at the ankles started to give in. A little push and my legs were free.

 

The overly restrained woman on the floor urged me to run.

 

As I said before the hotel was small, only about six rooms divided in two wings in each of its two floors, but what I didn’t said is that the place had a fame as a love place of sorts, me and ‘whoever was his real name’ had taken the last one of our wing on the 2nd floor.

 

They hadn’t bothered to close any door in their haste to leave the place, so as soon as I stepped in the hallway I heard muffled screams and begs all around, and the woman’s yelled order to ‘run’. I passed through a door and a young black woman’s face appearing in the floor behind a bed, behind her were a pair of big feet tied at the ankles and it seemed to me that she and her partner had been tied up back to back with one upside down to the other. She was cleave gagged with a blue scarf and crying, and when she saw me she started to make pleas that I couldn’t answer at the moment.

 

Nor I could answer to the ones that the 30-something woman who suddenly appeared through another door worming her way out of her room. She was stark naked and, unlike me or the previous woman, seemed more determined to free herself  than scared at what was happening. She saw me and begged me to help her, and for a moment I thought about kneeling on the floor and do my best on the knots that were holding her arms behind her back, but then I remembered about the grave danger we were all and passed at her side in a fast pace. The reddish brown woman angry stifled remarks followed me through the first flight of stairs. There were more dampened sounds on the first floor.

 

There were three women and two men wriggling around on the ground floor when I reached it. The men and two of the women (all four either muscular or menacing or mean looking or all three together) were bound in a similar way to the woman I had left in my room, so there was not a chance for me to free them. I recognized the cute mid-twenties receptionist between them, they had forced her to remove her navy blue jacket (but keep the white blouse) and skirt before they had tied her in the same fashion (ankles and wrists bound to each other) but with far less rope and tape restraining her limbs, she was cleave gagged and had a knotted scarf dangling over her bosom. For their turn the men and women were nearly naked, covered only by their underwear and socks.

 

There, over the counter, was one of those mean looking devices with wires and a digital timer attached to it. It had the size of a small sewing basket and told me that we have a couple more of hours to live so, instead of getting in panic and running into the snowing night outside barely dressed as I was, I remembered the instructions I had received.

 

The clothes, guns, plastic bags (?) and other stuff of the group of men and women that (according to herself) were in league with the woman in my room were piled at a far corner of the lobby, I ran to there and crouched on the floor. It’s very hard to search something in a pile of ‘debris’ with your back to it because your hands are immovably bound behind you, so I took about five minutes (I couldn’t lift my eyes from the timer...) until I found it, a blue leather women’s purse. It was awkward to open it with the short range of movement I had but I managed and it’s contents fell on the floor. Amidst the make-up, documents, mobile-phone and other stuff was a pen. But it wasn’t really a pen, it just had the shape of one.

 

All the women and men’s gaze was upon me and all sighed audibly when, while trying to remove the cap, I activated the beam (which emitted a pale blue light for a brief moment) informing their back-up team that they were in trouble. That’s when I heard the receptionist (who had managed to remove her gag while I searched the pile)’s voice.

 

‘Are you in league with them?’ she asked.

 

I shook my head vehemently and then she told me that there was a button under the counter on the inside part of it. It would bring the police to the hotel right away (or as fast as it would be possible given the weather), something that the people around immediately disliked to learn and showed their despise with head butts on her body and muffled orders at me. I ignored them and, moving cautiously in order to not trip over and make the bomb fall on the floor, I went behind the counter, crouched and found it. Still crouched and doing some contortionism I managed to push the button.

 

Then I had to go help the receptionist since one of the women, a short and a little fat blue eyed blonde, was poking her repeatedly with her bound feet. I sort of kicked the attackers away from Chris, the receptionist, and I stood above her with her bound body between my legs while we waited for the cops to arrive.

 

By now we had about one hour and fifty minutes before the bomb exploded. As if on cue as I thought about the possibility of, just perhaps, run into the night if the counter got below five minutes the weather worsened, and a full blizzard was hitting the mountains.

 

I checked Chris’ bonds and found out that there was something odd with her bonds, or rather with their knots. Following my gaze Chris told me that they had glued them. No chance to free her with my fingers! Plus her fingers had been taped as well so not a chance for she do that to me. I thought for a little about trying to wound the tape out of her hands, and had to stomp my feet a few inches away from one of the men’s face. If I sat on the floor in order to better reach my goal (free Chris’ finger so she could free me) they probably would pounce on me and her. I know it is a bit illogical, NOW many months later it sounds like something that could only pass through your mind in such a situation, but it was such a situation. So I just kept guard until the help arrived.

 

In order to pass the time, and have something to deviate our minds from the counter, she started to tell me what had happened so far. Her complete name was Christine Shoemaker, she was the daughter of the owner of the place, who was also the cook, and had just started to work the night shift at 7 p.m. when this group of robbers invaded the place gun in hand.

 

They pointed one of the guns at her and had her bound in her current situation and gagged in less than three minutes, then they went after her parents (who were now presumably restrained in the hotel’s office along with the other cook and her sister) and then they went after their clients. She was left behind the counter and blindfolded all the time. After about an hour the robbers returned and talked with someone who had just arrived, a woman, and told that the ‘coast was clear’ and she went upstairs.

 

Then something happened, she wasn’t sure of what it was but it seemed that a second group of robbers had invaded the place. The first robbers were overpowered, forced to strip and then reduced to their current condition, then she was found and brought to join them. That’s when she heard someone whistling a classical music in contempt, she swore to me that the guy said ‘Pehrrrrrfffehchtttt’ a couple of times, and told someone to set up for 2 and a half hours, so we would all die at around 11:11 p.m. and left with many other men. She managed to work out the blindfold (the fist dangling scarf) and started to get desperate.

 

Then she saw me. At first she thought that I might be one of the robbers, but she realized that while the robbers had been all bound in the same overly way, my bonds were different and so... then I looked for something that I wasn’t supposed if I was a ‘good girl’ and she got confused. She said that she remembered that there were six robbers that had entered the hotel, then she asked if I had gotten the information about the ‘radio bean’ (or whatever that was that pen) with one of them (she wrongly presumed that were both trapped upstairs).

 

Soon we started an odd conversation, with she doing the talking and I answering her many questions with nods and shakes of my head. Then we heard three engines arriving.

 

And no police lights spanning us through the windows...

 

They were in eleven, seven men and four women, all heavily armed, masked and with a very mean attitude. They burst through the front door ready and alert, one of them quickly seized me effortlessly from the floor (this guy was a giant, at least 6’8”) holding me in the air with one arm and keeping a gun in the other hand. Chris was at my right side, after having helped to precariously stand (ankles crossed remember?) with the help of one of the women. A couple was taking care of the bomb but with all the time of the world on their side, we still had over forty minutes according to the timer and they were finished in nine.

 

By then all the captured robbers (or whatever they really were) were putting their clothes on, and looking menacingly at me and Chris, while me and her (who had been regagged with a sponge and silver tape) stood at a corner under the watch of the giant. Two of the men had rushed upstairs when they had entered, looking for their ‘boss’ as they called the woman that had been kidnapped, another couple rushed after them a few minutes later and then all four returned carrying the bound woman with them, unconscious.

 

So far all my attempts to talk to them, to somehow trade my life for any information they might need (yeah, I know it’s silly, but put yourself in my situation for a moment ok?), had been rebuked to the point that the giant man placed his giant hand over my lips, covering my lower face completely in the process, and told me to shut up. They were mad at the both of us for calling the police, but wouldn’t leave the place with a bomb still activated and with no information about the ‘boss’. It seemed that they were expecting that the now unconscious woman, whom they called ‘Debs’, would give them the info they wanted.

 

But the fall had been really bad and she had had a concussion and needed medical attention. They had freed her body and wrapped it in a mass of blankets and duvets, after the one in charge (a Hulk of a man, the body of a bodybuilder high on steroids) ordered to four of them to find some help for her at any cost. Then they looked at me and Chris…

 

I told what I had seen and heard, and Chris identified the place where they were heading to as the long abandoned Van Burren Airport, they brought a map and she showed them where it was located. Then the leader ordered that we were both reggaged and ‘hogtied’ as they were leaving. It wasn’t a hard one, compared to the ones I am put through when I am punished, and the leader knelt on the floor in front of us, holding our chins in his hands. He warned that it was better to us both (and suddenly all arms were loaded and checked by the others as he said it) that we had ‘selective amnesia’ about what had happened that night.

 

Then they left in a hurry. I looked at Chris at my left and she shook her head answering my mute question, then she made the same question (‘can you free yourself?’) and it was my turn to shake my head. As if  it wasn’t bad enough, they had glued the knots of my bonds and taped my fingers like they had done with Chris. At least they had let the heating system working and in a suitable temperature for two nearly naked women. No more than five minutes after they left three cars of the police arrived…

 

Then all things happened too fast.

 

 

 

 

 

 

All the hotel’s guest and crew were freed and taken to the hospital, SWAT teams swormed at the Van Burren Airport and there was a shoot-out between them and the occupiants of a bizjet. Four guys died and three men and their captive woman were apprehended. Turns out that Chris lied about the localization of the airport, but in the middle of the storm all attackers disappeared. The four that had left the hotel carrying the unconscious ‘Debs’ took her to a doctor’s house, they tied up his family and forced him to go with them so he could take care of her. Three days later he was found walking on a desert road over four hundred miles away from where he had been kidnapped.

 

‘Roger’ was actually Thomas Fuller, a very much wanted industrial spy and his boss was no other than Marcella Sombolli di Vespusiano, a.k.a. The Duchess.

 

Who? Just the top of the top spies/thieves/kidnappers of the world!

 

It seemed that a rival group had purposely give Tom a fake copy of whatever was that he had stole in Milwaukee, some medical research stuff, with the purpose luring her to a trap. She went to the hotel in order to ‘discipline’ Tom and fell on the trap, but also left a witness that the FBI, Interpol, you name it, could use to start bringing her criminal empire down.

 

She, of course, claimed that she was another victim of the gang of thieves that had attacked the hotel, that she and Tom had a ‘fetishistic’ relationship of sorts and that she always believed that his stories about invading places, robbing stuff and all were just spicy stories that he told to her as a ‘warm up’ before they had sex. The proof of that was that he always put a couple of bound and gagged women on those stories, and that in that occasion he (like he had promised to her) had a beautiful, busty and blonde girl tied up and gagged inside the closet of the hotel room where all three of us were supposed to spend the night...

 

It was my word against her, specially after the Milwaukee doctor and doctor’s daughter told the federal agents and US Attorneys that they couldn’t positively identify the man who had abducted them, the same going for Chris as she told them that she was sure that six persons had entered the place, but she had been blindfolded before being able to see enough of them to identify them in court. So me and my statement were the link that connected them and the first attack at the hotel, and could have been the start of her lifetime sentence.

 

So they gave me a new identity, sent me to Canada where I lived for a few months under American and Canadian protection. I was supposed to come back to the US and give my plead/statement... well tell to a court what I had seen that night.

 

On the day I was supposed to testify Marcella got sick, very sick and for real. She had to be ushered to a hospital and spent three days in the ICU. That forced the FBI to take me to an hotel somewhere. They shut a whole floor and the ones immediately above and below that one, they put dozen of agents, cameras and sensors everywhere and I had two ‘babysitters’ named Amanda and Jamie with me all the time.

 

Amanda was the oldest of us three, 36 years old, ex-Navy marine, tall, always alert and ready, she really looked like Xena (from the TV series remember?), just her hair was shorter than Lucy Lawless. Her ‘Gabrielle’ was a 29 years old ‘girl from Brooklyn’ as she said all the time, Jamie had a fun loving attitude that didn’t masked her readiness too well, she had my height and we soon became friends, something that Amanda disapproved.

 

For five days nothing happened since the main defendant on the case was fighting for her life, and I was getting bored and more bored by the second, and making my babysitters as bored as I was. It was 4 p.m. when I decided to have a shower.

 

And got a ‘Psycho’ moment.

 

I was under the hot water for about ten minutes, with my back to the door and my eyes closed, when I felt someone tipping me on my left shoulder. I had shampoo in my eyes so I let the water run on them then cut the flow off, accepted the small towel someone gave me, cleaned my eyes and turned around expecting to see Amanda lecturing me for something else I supposedly had failed to do. It was Debs.

 

She handgagged me and pressed her taller, stronger and more powerful body against mine, sandwiching me against the wall. She said that she wasn’t there to kill me, but my big mouth would not be seen in court so soon, and she told me top open my mouth and don’t make a sound. I did what she told me and she pushed two sponges inside it, then she wrapped a soft silken scarf around my head a few times, next she spun me and tied my wrists with another scarf. Then she told me to get out of the bathroom and followed me.

 

Amanda and Jamie were sharing my bed bound back to back with one woman’s arms under the other breasts, they had been cuffed and taped in their current position, and tape had been used to blindfold and gag them. Along with ‘Debs’ came three women.

 

From what I managed to learn about how they managed to abduct me, they had hooked up selected feed from the previous days as the ones the FBI agents were receiving somewhere else. The agent’s communication via radio had been hooked up as well and as they took down the agents on that floor, leaving all securely bound and gagged behind them, no one but the fallen agent could tell that it had happened. Two of the women then proceeded to tape me up, after they thoroughly dried me, and soon I was a standing mummy.

 

Debs easily cradled me in her arms and we left the floor. The small convoy went up a couple of floor through the stairways and we entered a room, as soon as Hallie (a mid-twenties brunette casually dressed as another pool bunny in a string yellow bikini) told us that the coast was clear, in a rapid pace. There they cut most of the tape and injected me with something. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was Debs soothing me, as she dried my tears with tender fingers, saying that ‘everything’s going to be alright’.

 

I woke up here, in this very berth of this big cabin cruiser. It was six or seven months ago if I am not mistaken, and so far I am fine. Whatever fate The Duchess has in store for me I have to await for she to leave the pen, she plead guilty in the only charge that stood after my disappearance and is due to be released in two months, but so far I have been well cared for by my captors. True, every time we harbor somewhere or the radar or sonar signals the impending approach of someone I am put in one of Debs’ patented ‘escape proof’ ties. And Debs doesn’t even needs to be here for it happen to me, she taught Gloria, Nana, Kristin and Fay very well. The cruiser’s crew is very variable and actually only me and the furniture had stayed the same in here all those months.

 

When we’re at sea (roughly 90% of the time) I am free of any bonds and am allowed to have a few liberties like watch TV, read books, play some game with the girl(s) in charge of me at the time or ‘play’ some games with them. They never forced me to anything but pose for them or be subjected to their ropes, tape and scarves and Nana, Kristin and Fay are not lesbians like me anyway. But all of them are deviously kinky...

 

This boat seems to be part of the Duchess’ crime facilities. Four times so far I had company in my berth. One was a cute black thong bikini gal that like me had seen or heard too much and needed to be ‘put aside’ for a while. Next it was the wife of a night watchmen who was supposed to not do something one night. Next came the bratty, snobby and spoiled late teens daughter of a rich arts dealer (the only one I was glad to see gagged harsher than me) and finally came the daughter of a local crime lord of sorts.

 

All women were kept bound, gagged and blindfolded and I was told to not reveal my presence (my berth has two beds) under no circumstance (the ‘preview punishment’ they gave me in order to show me what would happen if I failed to do so was bad enough to ensure my cooperation), so there’s no chance that someone knows that I am here.

 

Plus, the boat is used to transport operatives from city to city in the East Coast, but usually we only deliver equipment to them, or pick what they achieved and deliver to someone else. I think that so far I was locked inside the secret compartment under my bed in every state of the Atlantic Ocean and some of the island of the Caribbean.

 

I can’t say that I am not scared. I am. But... they say that The Duchess (whom Debs dare to call Mikki sometimes) has a peculiar and twisted code of honor, so she’ll spare my life.

 

I hope.

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