Holly's Home Invasion
Part 7
by Andromeda
I watched as Slim tore the freshly raped young woman from the sofa and threw her
face down on the floor next to me. Belinda's hands twisted futilely behind her
back as the slaver slapped and prodded her legs to align them for binding,
lashed them firmly at the ankles then pulled them up smartly behind her,
anchoring them to her wrists with a few quick turns of rope. Muffled groans of
pain emerged from behind the girl's gag as the lashings were yanked tight to
bind her limbs into a taut bundle of helplessly trapped flesh at the small of
her back. Fully immobilized, Belinda lay sobbing in her bonds, her normally
attractive features contorted with strain and anguish as the harshly tied ropes
tore at her ankles and wrists. His brutal task completed, Slim quickly cuffed
her ID tag to one of her bound wrists at the small of her back then checked her
gag, tugging briefly at the cloth strap to make sure it lay tautly cleaved
between her jaws.
'Roped and ready,' Slim grunted as he gave Belinda's bonds a final pat. He
looked up at Red. 'Wanna check?'
'Yeah,' Red muttered as he bent down and examined the bindings, 'good ropework.
It'll cut her a little but she'll be OK. Probably stay with some bruising,
nothing to worry about. Buyers expect that. They even like seeing a little
damaged skin around the wrists and ankles. What they don't like is nerve damage.
Remember that cunt you tied up on your first job a couple years ago, that twenty
year old blonde in those flesh colored panties?'
Slim sighed. 'Not that again,' he mumbled.
'That's right, buddy,' Red went on relentlessly, 'she had a great body,
remember? Beautiful tits. Her fuckhole was terrific, just needed a couple of
quick tweaks on the clit and she was good and wet and ready for fucking. Good
butthole too. Nice and snug. I can't believe you hogtied that cunt so fucking
tight she couldn't even use her hands or stand up straight when we got her to
the cabin. Remember how the medic from the company checked her out, said it was
nerve damage from the tie-up? We had to waste her. Fucking loss. Probably cost
us 60 or 70 K.'
'Yeah,' Slim muttered, 'how the fuck can I forget it when you keep on reminding
me all the time. I been pretty fucking careful since that shit happened.'
'Yeah, right, just make sure it doesn't happen again. Get the blindfolds on 'em,
just the two we're collecting. Not the mother.' Red tossed a few strips of white
linen cloth to the other man then pulled out a cigarette and lit it with his
pocket lighter. He drew smoke into his lungs then flicked the ash on the sofa as
he stared impassively at his three tightly gagged and hogtied captives lying
helpless on the floor.
'Where we gonna dump Jerry and mom? Over at the farm?' Slim asked. He pulled my
daughter's head up by her hair, bound the wide strip of linen cloth over her
eyes and knotted it securely at the back of her head. Beth offered no
resistance. The look in her eyes before she was blindfolded was one of utter
hopelessness.
'Yeah, gimme a chance. I gotta set it up with Jim.' Red picked up Belinda's
driving license. 'The bondage slut's name is Belinda Baines. She's 24 years
old,' he told Slim. He stapled the license to a flex cuff and tossed it over to
his companion. Belinda wept freely as the slaver fastened her blindfold and
cuffed her ID to her wrist above the rope bindings. I was shocked at how the two
women looked in their blindfolds and gags, stunned that I could hardly recognize
their faces behind the demeaning and dehumanizing cloths. The combination of
blindfold and gag had turned them into anonymous captives, unnamed slaves roped
and secured at eyes and mouth for transport. They could have been anybody.
'No blindfold for mom?' Slim asked as he got up.
'What the fuck for? She's gonna be taking a bullet in the back of the head a
couple of hours from now. Think she's gonna remember what we look like after
that?'
I choked back my tears as I heard the brutal sentence confirmed. Only two more
hours. I struggled briefly against my restraints, trying to find some momentary
relief from the relentless pressure of the ropes on my cramped limbs. There was
none. The bonds were like iron bands, securely and expertly tied. Stabs of pain
lanced through my wrists and ankles at the slightest movement. I couldn't even
move my jaws with my mouth forced open by the oppressive wadding of cloth
strapped in behind my teeth. Brutally gagged, roped and raped, I thought
bitterly, my daughter enslaved and myself earmarked for murder. I wondered dimly
how many other luckless women over the years had been forced to submit to this
terrifying and humiliating ordeal at the hands of these ruthless psychopaths.
'You can start loading 'em up,' Red said, 'take the mother first.'
I cringed as Slim grasped my hogtied body and hoisted me off the floor. I was
flung over his shoulder like a side of beef, ass to the front and head to the
rear, and hauled outside with my head bobbing up and down behind the slaver's
back. His loathsome hands were on my body, one hand gripping the backs of my
knees, the other buried inside my crotch and digging at my snatch in a
humiliating reminder of my rape. Suddenly I saw the kidnap van. It stood parked
behind a clump of trees about twenty feet from my home. I panicked at the sight
of it. I screamed for help through my gag, screamed over and over again as the
back door was rolled open and I was thrown inside. I landed heavily on my belly,
sobbing helplessly, bitterly aware of how well I'd been gagged. The wad and
strap were mercilessly efficient, expertly applied. My muzzled cries for help
could hardly have been heard more than a few feet away, let alone by someone in
one of the nearby homes.
'Try screaming a little harder, cunt,' the slaver sneered as he slammed the door
shut. I lay weeping brokenly as I heard him walk away leaving me helplessly
imprisoned behind the locked doors of the van, hogtied and terrified, horribly
conscious of the brief time I had left to live.
After what seemed like hours of excruciating confinement but was probably no
more than a few minutes the door to the van was rolled open again. There was a
muffled thump and a gag muted cry of pain as the stripped and bound body of a
woman was thrown inside. It was Beth. Like me, she'd been tossed into the van
like a sack of grain. She lay beside me on her tummy, weeping bitterly behind
her gag. Alone together for the first time since our capture, Beth and I cried
our hearts out. At length my spirits lifted slightly and my sobbing subsided. I
grunted softly at Beth, trying to let her know I was glad we were there
together. Even as they had left her, blindfolded and gagged, stripped and
freshly raped with her hands and feet bound behind her back, it was singularly
comforting to be there at her side. It made the wrenching fear of death easier
to bear. I writhed and twisted until I managed to slither over on to my side
with my back to my gagged and helplessly hogtied daughter. Ignoring the pain
that shot through my wrists I tugged relentlessly at my bonds until I could feel
my numbed hands touch hers and feel the answering squeeze of her fingers. After
a brief struggle against her ropes Beth also worked herself over on her side so
that the two of us could lie back to back with our hands touching. We lay there
together in silence, two stripped and gagged prisoners trussed for transport,
drawing what comfort we could from the physical contact of our numbed and
tightly bound hands.
After another fifteen minutes or so the door to the van was rolled open once
again and another bound bundle of captive female flesh tossed carelessly inside.
Belinda lay sobbing softly where she was thrown, her gagged and blindfolded face
pressed down against the flooring, her brief silk slip rucked up around her
hips, the backs of her slim thighs hideously laced with thick filaments of rape
semen. As I lay on my side I could see her ID tag cuffed to her wrist behind her
back. I gazed enviously at the tag, bitterly aware that of the three captives I
was the only one to have been denied a slave tag and a blindfold. If only they
had taken me too, I thought ruefully. I suddenly experienced a degrading longing
to be enslaved. Anything, I thought to myself, even bondage, rape and slavery,
was better than what I faced. Why did they have to kill me? I didn't want to
die. I was good at my work. I was a good teacher. With proper training I could
learn to be a good slave, learn to obey my masters, service them sexually when
ordered, accept the inevitable beatings and whippings they would mete out
whenever I misbehaved. I cursed myself, cursed the unwelcoming tautness of my
virgin butthole, cursed my prideful and pigheaded reluctance to lubricate my
vagina properly when I'd been masturbated on the raping table. If only I'd known
what the penalty would be if I failed to please. Now it was too late. Had I
known that my life depended on it, I would surely have been more forthcoming,
would have worked on relaxing my sphincter muscles to open my ass to the
slaver's shaft, allowed myself to fully and thoroughly raped through my rear
end. My compliance would surely have scored me a few points, helped show my
captors that I was worth enslaving. But above all, I would have focused on my
pussy, made sure I presented my captors with a well masturbated and pliantly
creamed vagina primed and ready for raping. Had I done what was required of me,
I would now be lying bound beside Beth and Belinda with a blindfold tied over my
eyes and a slave tag cuffed to my wrist behind my back, doubtlessly bitter at
having been captured, raped and enslaved but at least content that I'd been
allowed to live. Instead I'd been dry-raped, roped and marked for murder. For
the umpteenth time, I broke out in tears and sobbed bitterly.
The three of us lay there on the dirty and dusty flooring of the kidnap van
sobbing desperately until the door was rolled open for a fourth time. Outside
stood the two slavers, Slim carrying Jerry's body over his shoulder, his boss
standing a few feet behind him clutching his wounded shoulder that had been
bandaged with strips from one of my bedsheets. The white makeshift dressing was
stained with blood. Jerry's body was wrapped in plastic sheeting sealed with
duct tape. Slim looked inside.
'Bawling like fucking babies,' he growled, 'you can shut the fuck up now,
ladies. We got some nice company for you.' Our sobbing waxed even louder as
Jerry's body was flung into the van next to where Beth lay bound. There was a
dull sickening thud as it hit the flooring. I felt my daughter wriggle and twist
in her restraints as she drew closer to me, trying to move away from the grisly
package. I heard Slim curse. He slapped my hands away from Beth's and rolled me
over face down with a quick tug at the hogtie rope between my wrists and ankles.
'On your tummy, sweetheart, and get your fucking head down,' he snapped as he
shoved my head down on the flooring. A moment later I heard Beth being dealt
with in the same manner. She sobbed bitterly as her face was ground into the
dirt on the rugged flooring of the van..
'What's the fucking problem,' I heard Red ask.
'Nothing,' Slim muttered, 'just getting these two bitches back on their bellies.
Beth and her mom were lying back to back holding hands. Sweetest fucking thing
you ever saw,' he sneered.
'Let it go, Slim,' Red growled, 'if they wanna hold hands that's fucking OK with
me. Ease up on 'em.'
'What the fuck, Red, you feeling sorry for 'em all of a sudden?'
'Yeah maybe, shit I dunno. Maybe it's the mother and daughter thing. I wouldn't
give a rat's ass about wasting the bitch otherwise.'
'You're fucking making me cry, Red. You know what? You need a holiday. Fucking
job's getting to you. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it.'
'Fine with me,' Red muttered.
I glanced up over my shoulder and saw more rope being readied. As I froze in
terror the cords were swiftly fashioned into what looked like three hangman's
nooses. Beth and Belinda wept brokenly as their slender necks were secured in
the sinister looking nooses and bound to metal fastenings in the floor of the
van. The third noose was reserved for me. I cringed and wept as Slim slipped it
over my head. For a brief moment I wondered fearfully if I was to be strangled
to death instead of shot.
'Just a little precaution, sweetheart,' Slim muttered as he tugged the noose
tight around my neck, 'don't want you getting back to back with your mom all
over again and trying to get loose while me and Red are up in front.' The slaver
played out the rope and fastened the free end to the base of one of the back
seats with a quick hard tug. 'Better make sure you don't jerk around too much or
that choke cord'll tighten up on you,' he told me as he quickly checked my gag
and my wrist and ankle bonds, clucked approvingly and straightened up.
'They're all prepped and ready to go,' he grunted. He pulled off his ski mask.
Red followed suit. I raised my head gingerly against the pressure of the choke
cord and gazed up at the faces of my captors for the very first time. The one
called Red must have been in his late thirties, early forties. A round and ruddy
face, thick sensual lips, sparse reddish hair streaked with white around the
temples. Dark black eyes. The other man seemed to be in his early thirties, the
face lined and hard with cold blue eyes and thin lips framing a predatory nose.
Both of them looked at me impassively. I could see my death sentence written on
their faces. I suddenly felt humiliatingly thankful that I was gagged, denied
the freedom to beg and plead for mercy. It wouldn't have done any good. These
men had their mind made up. If it hadn't been for the cloths that bound my mouth
I would have groveled and pleaded, begged them pointlessly to spare my life. I
couldn't stop my tears but the stern gagging kept me silenced, helped me go to
my death with some last shreds of dignity.
Red grunted. He ran a humiliating finger over my exposed labia and patted my
taped panties then moved to the front of the van. Slim got into the driver's
seat and the kidnap van started up. Slim nosed it into the street and it sped
away into the gathering twilight with its cargo of captive female flesh. Through
the corner of my eye I could see the dimly lit outlines of trees flashing past
the windows. Outside the van, people were going about their daily rounds,
shopping, laughing, enjoying their lives. Inside the van lay a wrapped corpse
and three gagged, hogtied and freshly raped women stripped to their underwear
with their necks bound in choke cords, two of them tagged for enslavement, the
third earmarked for execution. I lay helpless, unable even to struggle against
my bonds for fear of the choke cord, praying fervently that my death would be
swift and painless.
