Chapter 1 - Annoyance

 

"Hi Jim, the usual please, and you had better give, Chas another," Dave said, as he entered the bar at his local.

"Hi Dave, have you seen the news, or did you report it? It's bizarre enough for you to have written it," Chas said.

"Are Al-Qaeda, at it again?" Dave asked.

"No, some women's liberation group are threatening to attack Iran, unless they give women, equal rights," Chas said.

"I missed the news tonight, filing my story. The editor is going to syndicate it, and I have the by-line. Well it is my story, the local MP had a party this weekend at a local judges house, drugs, sex and rock and roll, watch this space. I will soon be on Fleet Street, and with a national newspaper, investigative reporter of the year," Dave said, boasting in a light-hearted manner.

"Great, will you be famous; I mean it will be worth a few drinks to me to know someone famous, won't it?" Chas asked.

"No, I work undercover, getting into the core of the nastiness," Dave said, and laughed, "Probably, you should be able to get a couple of drinks from it. I see that professor is still missing. She is one very pretty woman, see her tits, they are wonderful. Wouldn't that be funny if she is not missing, but has joined that group of undersexed women, who just need a good fucking? Their husbands must be pathetic in bed, for them to want to join a group like that? That would be a laugh," Dave said.

"Dave, a good fucking is not always the answer, you know? I actually agree with them. I don't condone violence, but you have to admit that the women in these countries are not being treated, fairly," Chas said.

"Now, those two should be given a good fucking, and I am just the man to do it, see those tits? They are humongous, and that, tight bum, very nice, hum," Dave said, as two ladies entered the bar, and walked up to them.

"Can I buy you a drink, dear?" Dave asked the ladies, his tongue hanging out.

"Yes, of course you can. Two double Malibu and cokes, please," she replied, smiling graciously at him.

"I haven't seen you around here before, have you just moved in?" Dave asked her.

"Yes, we were in here last night, but we didn't see you," she said calmly, still smiling at him.

"No, I was working. My name is Dave, and my friend's name is Chas. What are your names?" Dave asked.

"Now that would be telling, wouldn't it? Thank you for the drinks," she said, and turned to walk away.

"Leaving so soon, the night is young," Dave said.

"Yes, but you are not," she said, and leaned in to kiss his cheek, "Thank you," she said, and raised her glass to him in salute.

"Cheeky, fucking bitch," Dave mumbled under his breath, as they walked away from him.

Chas just laughed, "The one that got away. Like I said, not all women need a good fucking, to remedy their feelings," Chas said.

They both watched the women walk to a corner table and sit down with, two other women who were already sat, at the table.

"Well if you don't try, you don't get. There will be others who need a hard, throbbing dick. Just you wait, and see if they don't? I'll have one, by the end of the night," Dave said.

"Not if they have anything to do with it. They are still looking at you, and talking about you," Chas said.

"Fucking bitches, they couldn't talk about a better man. I bet she is dripping, just thinking about my cock," Dave said, loud enough for them to hear.

"Not from the expressions on their faces. Think, derogatory remarks, or perhaps, Boot Camp, to make you, respect them" Chas said.

Chas and Dave carried on having their usual evening drinks, and chatting about the news. As a reporter, Dave was able to give Chas an insight into things that were not in the papers, a more in depth story, which Chas enjoyed. They also discussed women, and the women's need to be fucked regularly. Dave was convinced that his dick was the cure-all women needed, to be happy, Chas was not convinced.

By eleven thirty that night they had, had enough to drink, and left the bar heading for home. Neither of them noticed that the women left as they did, just a moment after they had opened the door, the women stood up.

Outside, Chas turned left, and Dave turned right, he followed the street for a hundred yards or so, and then turned into a side street. Slightly drunk, he was not aware of being followed, but being followed he was, all the way home, about a mile, from the pub.

He didn't even notice that some of the women from the group walked on past his house, as he opened the front door, and entered.

It was a semi-detached house, in a street of that type of houses, quite modern, with a small front and rear garden, and just enough room for a drive in the front, to a garage attached to the house.

As usual Dave made a cup of coffee for himself, and then sat down to see the late news, before going to bed. His story was not on the news just yet; it was too early for it to have broken. The missing Professor was the main item of news, and the women's group who had threatened Arab countries unless they treated women, more fairly.

"Fucking women, what the fuck do they know?" Dave asked no-one in particular, and went to bed.

Saturday, he slept in late, and then joined Chas at the pub for lunch, and a few drinks. He did some gardening in the afternoon, and then made his dinner, before returning to the pub to meet Chas that evening, and listen in to conversations. His approach was that if you went into a pub, and came out without a story, you were not doing your job properly. They may not be worth printing, but every night there was a story, in a pub.

This was where he got several stories for the local newspaper, but to-night was different, he was no-longer interested in whose sordid little lives were being misrepresented. He was now looking for the bigger story, for when he became a reporter for a national newspaper.

The women were in the pub again, he didn't offer them a drink, but did make several derogatory remarks about women in general, for their benefit.

As with the night before he left at eleven thirty slightly tipsy, and made his way home, he had his coffee watching the news, and then went to bed.

 

Chapter 2 - Taken

 

Dave was a sound sleeper, and didn't hear the window opening, or feel the cold draught of air as it was opened. Silently they entered his house, and made their way carefully into his bedroom. The three women stood there looking down on the sleeping form before them, and smiled at each other. Their actions had been rehearsed, and they didn't need to speak, they knew exactly, what to do.

The one nearest his head moved forward gently, and then was sat on his face, as the one next to her, ripped the bedclothes back.

His nose and mouth covered by her clit, and arse, Dave began to struggle, but she just pressed down harder.

"Flail about as much as you like, but soon you will pass out from the lack of oxygen. I am going to give you two options, lie still, and allow us to do what we are going to do, or continue to struggle, and I will just suffocate you until you do lie still. Just hope that it is before you are dead, because I am not moving until you lie still, conscious, or dead, either way, I don't care," she told Dave.

Dave realised that he was on a hiding to nowhere, she had a good position, and he was suffocating, so he stopped struggling.

"See I have allowed you to breath, but if I move a fraction, I will begin to suffocate you again, so do not move," she told him.

Dave felt his ankles being put together, and he moved, so she did as she had said, and closed off his air supply again for a few moments, until he stopped struggling, and then she allowed him to breathe.

They tied his ankles together, and then he felt several pairs of hands on his side, and as she lifted off his face, and they rolled him over, and pulled his hands behind his back, as she sat down again, on the back of his head, pushing his face into the pillow.

His hands, and feet tied, they rolled him back over, and she again sat on his face, her panties now damp from his saliva, and her juices. She pulled her dress, up exposing his eyes, and the other women covered his eyes with extra-large plasters.

"All that remains now is the gag. To gag you I will have to get off, which means that you can cry out, to stop that, one of the ladies will take hold of your balls in her vice like grip, and squeeze them, until they hurt a little, then I will get off, and you will open your mouth, so that we can, gag you, but not speak, or she will increase her grip.

The drawback is that she will continue to squeeze, increasing the pressure until your mouth is open, so that we can, gag you. Do you have a firm hold?" the woman sat on his face asked.

"Yes, sorry my hands are cold, but then again at least he knows what I have, hold of, and that I am squeezing, gently. OK, now he is feeling the pressure, he twitched. You may get off him," the other woman said, and the woman sat on Dave's face got off him.

Slowly the pressure increased until Dave wanted to yell at her, she was hurting him, and he opened his mouth.

A cloth was pushed into his open mouth, and then another, someone closed his mouth for him, and tape was put over the top.

"You will learn, we have a clean piece of cloth for you, but you didn't do as told, so we put our panties in, the ones we have worn, all day. Do they taste nice? I am sure they do, I have frigged myself twice so far, and I drip a lot.

They were soaked after the first time, and I added more to it the second time. Hum, very tasty, as did my friend, to make sure we had two pairs of well soaked panties, for you. Next time, do as told, that way the other two pairs will not be needed, will they? You won't be in as much discomfort, if you do, as told," the woman who had been sat on his face, said.

Dave felt them lifting him, and then putting him down on the floor, and rolling him up in something. He was then carried down the stairs, and out of his house. They dumped him on the floor of a vehicle, closed the door, and then drove off.

The floor was uneven and noisy; he guessed that he was in the boot of a car. After some time the car stopped, and then reversed into a garage, from the change in sounds. The doors were closed with a bang, and then he was being lifted again, and carried a short distance, and put down, and then he was being wheeled about, lifted and dumped on the floor, and being unrolled from whatever they had rolled him up in.

"I believe your name is Dave, and that you are a reporter. I am the leader of the local group of the Women's Liberation Army. I very much doubt that you have heard of us, we are quite new, and already have a very good following.

Our aims are to liberate women, all over the world. Several countries treat women as a second class citizen, making them wear clothes that are not flattering in any way. They refuse to educate the girls, so that the males can be the dominant sex. We aim to change that.

People like you, who decry women as sex objects, are as much to blame for the totally unacceptable situation, as are the leaders of these countries.

I quote, 'All they need is a good fucking.' Well Mister Dave that is not all that we need, and we very rarely get it. You men are useless in bed; a ten second wonder is the best we can expect. It takes you longer to get undressed than you can keep an erection. So don't be funny with me, you can't complete the task you set yourself, in that you are not capable of giving us, a good fucking, even if that were all, we needed.

We have been watching you for a few days now, and we have a tape recording of your inflammatory comments about women in general, and my friends in particular. She put you down well and truly, didn't she? 'The night is young, but you are not.' What a put down that was.

What will happen is this. We are going to keep you as our prisoner. We will move you about, from country to country, as we desire. We will dress you as we choose, and punish you for any slight indiscretion, or failing. We will take you to the site of our first bomb, and you will hope that we remove you before it explodes, we may not, but that depends on how obedient, you are.

Not very funny when the boot is on the other foot, is it? Just think, all the women will be saying that all you need, is a good fucking, to cure all your ills, won't they?

Just remember that is what you considered to be the best cure, now you will find out personally, if it is true, or not, won't you?" she asked him, and Dave heard the door close, and lock as she left.

Dave lay there unable to move, and wondered just, what the hell was going on? He had never beaten, or hit a woman, and yet here he was being kidnapped and threatened, as if he were a bad person. What had he done that was, so terrible? From what he had seen, most, if not all of the women moaning, were under sexed, and needed a good fucking. Their husbands were just not up to the job. What an insult to be told it took longer to undress than keep a hard on. She obviously had not had the pleasure of his cock, inside her; otherwise she would not be saying that.

Being woken in the middle of the night, tied up, and bundled into a car, and then driven to a location, whilst being bounced around in the boot, did nothing to assist sleep. Dave lay on the floor uncomfortable, and in need, of sleep, but unable to go to sleep. Worrying about what they intended to do to him, was the main cause of his unrest, but being woken so rudely made matters worse, and he lay awake, until the door opened.

He listened, but did not move, as he heard the click of stiletto heels, which came and went.