London - England

 

"That's one of them. Let's get the other." The package on the floor squirmed and moaned in the small Suzuki van as it zipped through late rush hour traffic toward the wharves. WOLFINGTON'S SPECIALISED DELIVERY SERVICE was blazoned in red letters on the side.

Always circumspect and mindful of her surroundings, Laura Holland had been incautious only once. Although she frequently worked late, she always left for the underground garage with friends or colleagues. The one improvident occasion of her leaving alone was opportunity presented. The men from the peculiar institution, which had her under surveillance for so long, seized that opportunity and Laura with it.

Laura clicked along on her high heels. The measured tap of her swift stride echoed loudly in the nearly empty garage. The diminutive goods van parked next to her new Vauxhall seemed innocuous enough although she found it strange that, being the only other vehicle in the garage, it sat next to hers. She would soon be an unwilling passenger in that small van, but she didn't know that yet. Disaster crept on silent tread as she approached her car in the garage late that night.

Laura Holland worked for Cowell & Prescott. The prestigious publishing firm had hired her as an assistant editor right out of University. Given her entry-level position and the endless deadlines inherent to the business, she worked long and hard. Young and pretty women had a great deal to prove in the old boy's network of publishing. Her attractive face, blue eyes wide set under a blonde fringe of hair, coupled with her elegant height of nearly six feet, stood on a pair of graceful legs long and well-proportioned enough to attract more than one glance as she sat with legs crossed or strode through the office. Her broad hips and voluptuous breasts exaggerated by a tiny waist did not detract from her sensual allure. Laura Holland was a stunner. Although she didn't hide her beauty, neither did she flaunt it. She had to prove she was more than a beautiful young woman; that she was more than a pretty face with an attractive figure. Therefore it was not at all unusual for her to be plugging away on her computer long after others had gone home. She was ambitious. She saw herself as executive editor of a glamorous woman's magazine before she was thirty, in seven years. Others had different plans for her future.

Two of her colleagues, Alex and Geoff, had worked late that night as well. They had offered to wait for her while she finished, but she demurred and, knowing she would just be a few minutes longer, decided she would take the time now rather than come in early in the morning. Laura was not an early riser. She always luxuriated in those last few warm moments in bed in the morning. Finally done, she gathered up her belongings and took the lift down to the garage.

John Prescott, one of the senior partners in the firm, had made a small fortune in the advertising business before joining his school chum Bob Cowell at the publishing firm. The alliance worked well and Prescott's fortunes grew apace with the business. It was his sideline business, however, that had made him obscenely wealthy. Taking an active part in personnel matters, he had hired any number of attractive young women over the years. They seldom lasted a year; usually disappearing without a trace or with just a cursory note of resignation. No one ever heard from any of them again. John saw them again, but under very different circumstances. He saw them when they were sold as slaves to wealthy Middle Eastern Potentates or Oriental brothel owners. Sometimes they were bought as toys for the wives or girlfriends of other obscenely rich men. Whatever their fortunes, they were chattel when he saw them auctioned off, naked, chained and manacled at his slave market. Once they had been properly trained and disciplined under the severe conditions obtaining at his slave training facilities, he sold them. Usually it took about six months. Laura's six month training began that night. It would be a long night to dawn for the striking Laura. She would be transformed, as had all the others before her.

As Laura edged between her car and the small van, she was annoyed at the small space left to manoeuvre between the two. 'Why in the world did he have to park so close with all the space in the world down here?' she asked herself rhetorically. Silently, two men circled from the other side of the van, one behind, the other in front of the startled Laura. She became aware of the man in front first. Before she could think of what to do or react in the slightest, the van door slid open with a quiet scraping sound beside her. Distracted momentarily, she never saw the man behind until he was upon her with his arms wrapped around her chest, pinning her arms to her sides. The man in front quickly ducked down, grabbing her ankles. Before she could scream in protest or kick and struggle in their grasp she was picked up and handed into the van where a third man crouched waiting. She landed with a thump on the hard steel floor, the breath knocked out of her. A knee in her stomach didn't aid her in regaining her breath and before she could resist physically or verbally, the door slid closed. One of them sat across her legs; another wrenched her arms up over her head, holding them stretched up by the wrists, while the third put a rubber ball with a strap through it in her open mouth as she gasped for breath. Fifteen seconds hadn't passed when Laura found herself flipped over on her stomach, still held down helplessly by the three men. She hadn't been able to raise the slightest objection or offer the least resistance, so sudden and unexpected had been her abduction. Now she struggled. Now she blubbered around the mouth-stuffing ball as they raised her hair behind her head and buckled the leather strap at the nape of her neck. They pulled it tight, effectively preventing its removal and thoroughly stifling any chance she might have had to scream for help. She tried to raise her legs; to pull her wrists from the steely grip holding them tight; to buck her hips in futile resistance - all failed. The grip on her wrists was much too strong to break, no matter how hard she tried. One man sat on the back of her knees, another in the small of her back - their weight alone was enough to keep her quite still and helpless. She screamed bloody murder into the rubber ball strapped in her mouth. She blew spit bubbles accompanied by muffled guttural groans. Finally her struggles diminished and she lay slack in defeat.

She whined piteously as they began to cut off her clothes. She strained and exerted herself in renewed attempts to escape the terror of having her clothing removed. Surgical scissors cut relentlessly and effectively through her skirt until it lay under her, cut apart over her clenching buttocks. Laura's stifled cries became weaker; her struggling dwindled as the scissors cut up the back of her suit jacket and up along both her outstretched arms. It too fell in tatters to the cool steel floor of the van. Laura sagged in the grip of the three men as she felt the cool night air on her sweat drenched back. She trembled in unrestrained dread and shock at what was happening to her. She had to escape; she just had to. She tried to dig her nails into the hands holding her wrists. All she could do was claw the air. She tried to raise her feet to kick at the man sitting on her legs. Her heels flailed uselessly unable to reach high enough. Her toes drummed the floor in noisy futility. Fingers under the waistband of her tights drew them roughly down over her bottom. She squealed as they were drawn down her thighs to her knees. The scissors snipped the back and shoulder straps of her bra. Pulling up on her arms, the man holding her wrists raised her head and shoulders off the floor while the man sitting in the small of her back placed a belt at the back of her neck and brought it forward over her shoulders and then under her arms. While he fastened it between her shoulder blades one arm was twisted down then up behind her back. A leather cuff encircled her wrist. Pulled tight and buckled securely it then was fixed to the fastener between her shoulder blades. Laura moaned helplessly as her left arm was twisted behind her back and wrenched up to join the right. The bindings around her wrists were unyielding. The fastenings behind her back were locked securely. Her arms remained folded up behind her and she was powerless to do anything about it while her tights were removed baring her legs. Removing her shoes they stripped her tights from her feet and then replaced her heels. She wondered why. Were they going to make her walk? The thought was a fleeting one.

In barely a minute Laura lay helplessly bound and gagged on the floor of the van, wearing only her shoes and skimpy panties. She'd had absolutely no chance to scream or escape her captors as they expertly abducted, bound and gagged her.

One of them moved forward and started the van. As it drove away and out of the garage, a fourth agent emerged from the shadows and, picking up Laura's purse and car keys, drove Laura's car to a disposal site while Laura was being taken to a very special disposal site of her own.

As the van proceeded to its destination, the two men in back continued to restrain the hapless Laura. Moving aside to free one leg, before she could move or kick with it, her ankle was pushed up, bending her leg up behind her. With her heel pressed into her buttock a wide strap was slid under her upper thigh, then around her ankle. It was pulled rigidly tight until it made a deep impression in both thigh and ankle, then buckled and locked in place, keeping her leg bent in immobilised agony. Her calf bulged out, pressed to the back of her thigh in relentless tensely folded compression.

"Ugaah heeh!" warbled Laura, her muffled version of 'Too tight!" She said it again when her other leg was strapped double up behind her. She wiggled her feet in protest. No one noticed.

The cool blunt tip of the blade of the surgical scissors inside the side panels of her meagre panties and the brief snipping sound they made as they cut away the last vestige of her modesty elicited a mournful wail from behind the mouth filling ball. She struggled briefly, then began to cry. She didn't resist as they raised her hips, passing a thick nylon rope under her abdomen. Loosely fitted around her hips, she could feel the remaining coil of rope on her buttocks. Then they hoisted her.

At first, the rope just lifted her hips. Then, as she was pulled higher, the weight of her upper body began to take effect and her legs rose while her head and shoulders remained on the floor. The rope started to tighten around her soft flesh and as she began to angle down in earnest, the rope cut deeply and began to insinuate itself in the cleft of her buttocks. Her neck wrenched back severely as she became upside down, her doubled over legs flailing weakly against the horrible position. The remnants of her panties were ripped from between her thighs as she rose, until eventually she hung, head down, utterly naked and unable to touch the floor. The rope cut as if to eviscerate her while her hair swept the floor. She groaned in agony, writhing in her suspension. Drool escaped from around the ball in her mouth as she tried to voice her suffering and plead for release. Pulling ineffectually at the cuffs buckled around her wrists, flailing her acutely bent knees at the overhead of the van, she spread her thighs wide, trying to evade the terrible pressure of the rope cleaving her buttocks nearly in two. Realising how lewdly exposed that made her, she clenched her thighs together, but it hurt too much and took such effort, she just let her knees fall apart, yawning her thighs wide in horribly shameless exposure. Her only comfort lay in the fact that it was dark; she desperately hoped her downy pubic thatch and pouting pudenda with its moist cleft slightly parted remained hidden in shadows. Groaning with intense humiliation in exquisite torment, she swayed with her thighs wide open in naked misery like some grotesque pendulum from the end of the rope.

She hung like a great pale Y in the murky darkness of the van, her guttural moaning incessant. Tears dripped from her pain filled eyes. Her blonde hair darkened from the wetness of tears and saliva. Then she noticed the other contorted form in the van.

She had been facing forward while her captors had stripped, bound, and gagged her. The indistinct form lay across the rear of the van. In the dark, initially it was hard to distinguish what it was, but as passing lights played over the bowed shape; she saw finally the distorted figure of another woman. It took some time for Laura to figure out how she had been arranged in such an egregiously stressful position, or even what that position was, exactly. Her body seemed bent into an impossible bow. Laura's dangling nudity swayed and spun lazily from her excruciating suspension. Only as she rotated to the rear could she make out the other woman. Finally, she pieced it together with a series of passing glances through her haze of pain and tear blurred vision.

Lying on her stomach with her arms bound behind her much as Laura's were, her head, shoulders and, chest were raised up off the floor, her neck strained back sharply with her head wrested erect, forcing her to look up. Behind her head, the toes of her high-heeled shoes nearly touched the back of her head, her legs were drawn up over her tautly arched torso in severe tension, raising her thighs off the floor. She rested solely on her hips and pubes, looking like some perverse rocking horse. Her head was encased in a dark, tight fitting covering, revealed little of her face, while serving as an attachment point for ankle straps that held her in the rigid agony of her intense bondage. Laura glimpsed a large red rubber ball protruding from gaping lips. She, too, was entirely naked but for dark thick straps cinched tight around her wrists, ankles, and legs. The dark encompassing head cover appeared to be attached to a high collar around her neck. Laura could hear the groaning when she occasionally ceased her own piteous whining and sobbing. Both of the young women were in extremis. The motion of the van as it careered toward an unpleasant future for the two young women only exacerbated their torment.

When the van bounced over particularly bad spots in the road, Laura would feel the agonising jerk of the rope around her hips and in the cleft of her buttocks. She would thrust her pelvis forward, trying to allay the horrific pressure, only to present her mons and pudenda as if in offering. She would have to relax and the rope continued to cut into her mercilessly. She could not escape her ongoing torment. Bondage training had begun even before arrival at the venue of their strict training and merciless discipline.