NIGHTMARE IN LONDON

By Argus

Copyright resides with author
Available from bdsmbooks.com

It was another two hours before they left, stumbling down the street together, laughing and giggling, arm in arm, drunk and stoned at the same time, but delighted with themselves and their young lives.

“Did you see that Black guy’s face when I said I could tell from his nose that he had a tiny prick?” Hannah giggled.

“He was a tiny prick,” Chloe said, setting them both off giggling and laughing again.

            They stumbled up to their door and fumbled with the keys in the narrow stairwell, giggling and dropping them repeatedly. Hannah jostled Chloe’s arm so they dropped again, and they pushed and taunted each other before finally gathering them again and fumbling them into the lock.

            Neither noticed the large man in the shadows of the hall behind them.

            “I have to be up at bloody nine,” Chloe groaned. “I have to go shopping with Christine.”

            They half fell inside, and started to push the door shut, but as Chloe reached for the light someone, someone large, came in and threw an arm around her, his gloved hand closing across her mouth and nose as he yanked her in against his body. Beside her, the same experienced had befallen Hannah, as both squealed in surprise and shock at being pulled in against a body whose chest was even with their heads.

            The gloved hands across their lower faces smelled of some sickly sweet medicine or chemical, and in their sudden panic both girls inhaled deeply as their hearts began to pound and their pulses raced. They struggled wildly against the big man – for it had to be a man, their arms flailing in drunken fear as they tried to twist and pull free.

            But it took seconds only before their already foggy brains began to further cloud over, and despite the adrenalin surging through their bodies their limbs began to lose strength and their minds slowly closed in until they sagged back against him, arms at their sides. They were held there for long seconds, until their eyes were entirely closed, and then allowed to sag down to their knees, and then slump back onto the floor.

* * * * *

            “Chloe, would you please process these expense claims against the cost centers indicated,” Mr. Fields said, dropping them onto her desk.

            “Yes, Mr. Fields,” Chloe said, gathering them up and inspecting them to see what dates and numbers they held.

            Prioritizing them on that basis, she dropped them into her in-basket and returned to the email she was going through. That done, she rose and walked across the office to the photocopy machine. She wore a move print summer dress, light and pretty, the hem descending to a few inches of her knees.

            She placed the documents into the machine and it began humming and working, the light flashing, the multiple copies sliding out the far side. It was really quite hypnotic, and she watched its repetitive actions, blinking slowly, her mind fogging a bit, swaying a little on her feet.

            She remained in a fog of confusion for some time, a time she could not catalogue or guess at. At some point she came to realize it was dark, but did not understand this. And then, slowly, the fog lifted, bit by bit, and she realized she could not move, that she was restrained. Not enough of her mind functioned to be more than confused at this – at first, and she pulled feebly against whatever was holding her in place to no avail.

            Her mouth hurt, and so did her wrists, and legs, and back. She was dizzy, and didn’t feel good. Her head ached, and she felt mildly nauseous.

            The fog continued to lift, and now she could see glimmers and shapes, but not understand them.

            Her eyes hurt.

            She pulled again at whatever was holding her, her mind finally turning to why and what.

            She understood that she was standing on her feet, her feet aching somewhat, her legs sore and stiff, her back even worse. There was movement in front of her, and then she smelt a horribly noxious substance that caused her to throw her head back and cry out in dazed dislike. Something caught at her hair and held her head in place, and then she smelt that awful thing again, held before her nose.

            She choked and coughed and her hair was released. Again she saw motion, movement, but barely. The room was very, very dark.

            Or… or was it? She could see a light bulb not far away in the darkness. But the bulb was very dim, far too dim. It wasn’t – wasn’t right. It reminded her of when she’d worn Alfred Martin’s sunglasses indoors, for they were so dark she was practically blind. Even the lights showed as little more than glows through the black glass.

            She turned her head groggily, and saw another light, and then another on the other side. She could make out little more than the lights themselves, and tried again to move. She now realized that her wrists were held tight by something. Something was wrapped around each of them, holding them up and out to either side. Why, was beyond her at that point. Her ankles were also held tightly in place, and again she could not understand how or why.

            But as her mind began to awaken she began to realize that she must have been bound somehow, by a person, and with that slowly dawning understanding came fear, then panic as she recalled the last events of the previous – was it the previous  - evening. She pulled more frantically now, her heart beating faster, her pulse racing.

            This helped to clear many of the cobwebs from her mind, but did nothing to release her, and Chloe whimpered and moaned as her head jerked from side to side, trying to see who had bound her, and where they might be. Yet there was nothing. She could not free herself, despite trying with growing desperation over the following minutes, and finally sagged, whimpering, fighting back tears of terror.

            Where was Hannah?! Had Hannah been taken, as well? She again turned to stare around her as best she could, and as she blinked her eyes she realized why her sight was so impaired. For it reminded her of when she’d tried tinted lenses to change the colour of her eyes. They’d had that same feel, though not quite as bad as this, and they’d very slightly tinted her view of the world, as well.

            She had contact lenses of some sort in her eyes! Very, very dark ones! This roused her to further panic, and again she twisted and pulled against the bonds, some sort of leather, which was wrapped around her wrists and ankles.

            There was something in her mouth, as well, something hard, but with a little give to it, a thing jammed into her mouth so that it held her jaws open, with straps digging into the sides of her mouth and going around behind her head.

            She appeared to still be fully clothed, but that offered little reassurance. She was completely at the mercy of whatever madman had grabbed her, had waited for her and had – had taken her as easily as scooping up a kitten.

            Why?!

            The likelihood of why swooped and swirled around her mind as she tried but failed to ignore the patently obvious. Boys and men had been after her body since puberty, and that seemed by far the most likely motive for whatever man had taken her.

            Well all right, then. Someone had kidnapped her to rape her. That was – all right. She could survive that. A number of her friends had been raped. They’d gotten over it. It was humiliating and frightening and sometimes painful, but then it was done and they were back at home wishing they could forget it.

            And it was a demonstration of how frightened Chloe was that she was considering mere rape as the best, most hopeful outcome of her situation.

            Because none of her friends had been taken away – drugged and taken away, and then tied up, she thought, frightened. That sort of thing bespoke someone far worse than a casual rapist or drunken date.

            She stiffened as she caught movement, and tried to stare at it. But the contacts seemed darkest in the center, and she lost sight of whomever it was after they passed between her and a light. Her heart pounded harder, and all her senses were attuned and straining for a sign of where and what.

            And then a hand gripped a thick mass of her tangled hair behind her neck and yanked her head back sharply, painfully.

            Chloe cried out in sudden fear more than pain, pulling frantically against the restraints even as the pull on her hair was eased. A large, rough hand stroked downward along the nape of her neck, then down over her shoulder and down her side. Her face reddened as it slid down to her bottom and she felt the hem of her dress lifted up to bare her thong-clad buttocks.

            Whoever stood there appeared to be inspecting her for long seconds, and then they dropped her skirt. A moment later she felt hot breath on her right ear, then – a kiss, a kiss which became harder, teeth coming out, even as hands slid around her and up to her chest, cupping and squeezing and groping at her breasts. She cried out into whatever gag held her jaw apart, her muffled cries of pain ignored by her captor, who roughly groped and squeezed her breasts as he bit into the soft flesh of her throat and neck.

            One hand slid down her chest, down her belly, squeezing and rubbing her between the legs. She tried to close her legs but could not, as the material of the dress was gathered up to expose her panties, and then his hand plunged down into the front of them. She could feel how warm and rough his fingers were against her sensitive, shaven sex as he rubbed and stroked her there.

            His mouth eased back, and his hands dropped free, leaving her feeling bruised and sore. A moment later she felt his fingers at the zipper below her neck. It slid the zipper down her back slowly, as if taunting her, and then, when it reached the bottom, she was startled by a sudden violent pull on either side of the dress and a harsh tearing sound as he ripped it down the rest of its length.

            Whimpering, panting, wild-eyed, Chloe felt the cool air against her back and buttocks as her dress hung apart from her arms. She waited, panting, heart racing, and then there was the metallic sound of scissors, and her dress dropped free completely, leaving her in thong and bra.

            He moved around her and she saw him as a dark movement between her and the light. Then he was back into the shadow in front of her and Chloe stood still, panting, whimpering in fear, embarrassed, and frantic.

            She didn’t see the movement as his hand lashed out, but she felt the hard slap of his hand against her cheek, and an instant later, the sharp, stinging pain and heat that followed as she was flung back against the bonds holding her. She would have fallen had she not been held up, and a moment later another crack of pain struck her other cheek, again throwing her violently back against the hold of the restraints, to be yanked remorselessly back by their firm grip.

            Another hard slap to one side of her face, then another on the other side, coming out of the darkness without warning, each drawing a cry of pain and fear as her cheeks burned and her eyes filled with tears. Dazed and terrified, she stood half limp, panting, moaning, whimpering, almost crying. She realized she was drooling around the thing in her mouth as it trickled down onto her nearly bare chest.

            And then he was against her, pressed against her from the front this time. A hand yanked her hair back harshly, and the shadowy figure moved in close biting into the exposed nape of her neck, growling like an animal, sucking and chewing and licking wildly as another hand came down to squeeze and grope her buttocks.

            Her hair was released, and both hands were on her bottom now, big fingers digging into the soft flesh, kneading and squeezing as he chewed his way along the side of her throat and shoulder.

            He pulled back, his hands coming free, and then her bra cups were yanked down below her breasts, exposing them, squeezing in against them from the bottom and sides. She stood, swaying, panting, moaning, waiting.

            Nothing.

            She tried to see him, but could not tell, really, if he was still standing before her or not!?

            And then a big hand squeezed her left breast hard, and a moment later his mouth was over the center, teeth digging painfully into her warm flesh as he sucked wildly, voraciously, his tongue whipping back and forth across her rapidly hardening nipple.

            He switched to the other breast, sucking and chewing on the surrounding flesh, licking, his tongue large, wet, lapping and swirling.

            And then he delicately caught the now hard nipple in his teeth, and bit.

            Hard.

            Chloe screamed in pain, twisting and tearing at the restraints as his teeth crushed her sensitive nipple and ground it between them. But a moment later he caught at her other breast, and did the same, biting at her nipple, hard, harder, as she screamed and twisted and pulled desperately at the restraints.

            Finally he released her breasts, but a moment later another hard slap to the face flung her backwards and left her reeling and dazed and sobbing

            And then there was nothing. Seconds passed as she stood frantic, terrified, sobbing. A minute passed.

            Then she felt his fingers on her breast, squeezing into the flesh just behind her areolas, pinching on it. A moment later she screamed again as her nipple burned, as it was crushed, not by teeth but – by something – something metallic perhaps. It was crushed, and when he released her breast it was still crushed, and she felt a weight hanging from her nipple.

            An instant later her other nipple exploded in pain, and she twisted, arching her back, throwing herself against the restraints, sobbing in growing hysteria now as something hung from her nipples, pulling on them as they burned.

            A fist slammed into her belly.

            She felt stomach acid in her mouth and gurgled dazedly. She would have folded over except for the restraints. The fist drove the air from her lungs and she couldn’t breath. She gurgled and gasped and struggled frantically to draw a few short, ragged breaths.

            And then another slap to the face threw her back against the restraints.

            And then she was alone, or seemed to be, for as she finally got some control of her breathing and looked wildly around for her tormenter, she saw no sign, no shadows, heard nothing. Minutes passed, and she stood uncertainly, fearfully, the bra digging into the undersides of her breasts, her nipples still aching as some kind of harsh jaws clamped down on them and pulled downward.

* * * * *

            Hannah trembled in fear as she heard the sound of a door close. Her head jerked and twisted, but she could see nothing through the dark tinted lenses filling her eyes. She wanted to beg him, to offer up her body, her cooperation, anything. She was terrified, and wanted to show him that he didn’t need to tie her, didn’t need to hurt her. She would do anything he wanted. Anything!

            But the gag filling her mouth made it impossible to speak, and the dark tinted lenses even robbed her of any mute appeal staring at him might have made.

            She was kneeling, her back against some kind of post. The vertical post was about shoulder high to her, and a horizontal post was attached to the top. Her arms were bound to that horizontal post, out to either side. He had torn off her top, and as she had no bra beneath her breasts were bare.  But her trousers were still on.

            She sensed motion, and cringed away, fearing another slap to the face, but instead her hair was yanked back across the top of the post, and her back made to arch painfully. His other hand fondled her breasts, as he had done before, groping and squeezing them, pinching and cruelly twisting her large nipples, plucking and pinching at them as she cried out in pain.

            And then his big hand slid slowly down her taut chest and belly, rubbing, stroking at her exquisitely soft skin. His fingers moved over the belt at her waist, then down to cup her crotch before rising. Her hair was released, and then she felt his hands at the belt. He undid the buckle of the thin leather belt and popped the catch of her trousers. He slid the zipper slowly down, and then his big hand plunged into her trousers, into her panties, fingering and stroking at her bald little pussy, finger rubbing harshly along the top of her sex, as if searching for her clitoris.

            He began to lick and chew at her nipples and breasts as his fingers tried to force up into the mouth of her sex. His other hand abandoned her hair, slid down her back and down into the rear of her loosened trousers, fondling and groping her bare buttocks as his mouth moved from one breast to the other and back again.

            The hands came free, and gripped the sides of her trousers, then yanked them down to her knees. They stayed there a moment, bunched up around her knees, then they were pulled harshly back, her knees lifted from the floor as the trousers were yanked back off her legs. One shoe went flying as the trousers disappeared.

            She felt his big hands on her ankles, pulling them back behind the post on either side, then lifting them up sharply, forcing her heels back against the sides of the post. She felt a pull, then, on the leather strap which ran from the gag in her mouth – digging into the sides of her mouth – and around her head. It pulled back and forced her head back – further and further, until she was looking up at the ceiling, and a tiny, fuzzy glow of some kind of light. She felt the leather around her ankles lifted up hard, as her head was forced even further back.

            And then his hands released, and she realized that somehow he had attached the restraints around her ankles to the gag, for her head was held back almost upside down even as she was balanced precariously on her knees.

            Her bare knees rapidly began to hurt, and then to hurt more. They had already been aching, of course, but being on her knees – and feet, was not nearly as bad as being on the knees themselves, the bone jammed against the bare floor with no support or padding whatever.

            She whimpered and moaned as she felt his fingers working at the gag in front. She felt the thick thing in her mouth being slowly pulled, twisted free. And yet even when it came free her mouth was still held wide, the leather still digging into the sides of her cheeks holding some kind of metal – thing in her mouth, like a ring jammed in between her jaws.

            She tried to talk, gurgling, begging, but in a moment the ring was filled as he thrust something else into her mouth.

            Hannah recognized it at once, having tasted that taste many times in the past. His cock slid slowly through the ring, barely able to fit through, pushing hard to jam against the roof of her mouth. And then she choked and gagged as it plunged into her throat and slid firmly and smoothly down inside.

            Hannah’s head shook and trembled, her entire body writhing and twisting and thrashing against the restraints pinning her in place. The feel of his fat cock being forced down her throat filled her with panic and terror as it blocked her breathing. Her stomach flipped and twisted, but there didn’t seem to be anything in it to try to come up. She felt the long, thick length of him sliding deep into her throat, and even past it, into her very chest as his balls pressed against her eyes and nose.

            He jammed himself into her to the hilt, his hairy thighs pressing against the sides of her ears as he reached down to squeeze and fondle her breasts and pinch and pluck at her nipples.

            Hannah’s head throbbed and ached, her chest burning, her eyes bulging as her oxygen ran out. She arched and bucked against the restraints in helpless spasms of violent panic as he continued to grind her face into his crotch. Then, when it seemed he had finally relented, and she felt the new discomfort of his fat cock sliding back upwards out of her throat he crushed her hopes by thrusting himself back home once again.

            She screamed soundlessly, as her head pounded, as the world began to swim around her. And then suddenly his cock pulled up, up, up further, and out of her throat with an almost audible popping noise as she gagged and choked and coughed violently, desperately gulping in air as she felt her own saliva spilling out around her nose and cheeks.

            She heard a sound she scarcely paid any attention to as she continued to draw deep, desperate, ragged breaths of air: the sound of her belt buckle as he pulled the belt free of the loops of her trousers.

            Then she cried out in sudden pain, awful pain, as something cut into her breasts, something struck them hard and laid a line of fire across them. She screamed in shock, gasping and gagging in disbelief as the belt lashed down to cut across her straining breasts a second time.

            “Please!” she screamed, or tried to, through the ring holding her jaw open. “Please! Please!”

            The belt lashed her right breast, slicing into it like a hot knife, forcing another scream from her lungs. It lashed her left breast, then both breasts as Hannah screamed and sobbed and twisted and bucked against the post, howling and begging as the belt cut across her breasts again and again and again.

            And then when it stopped, her choked sobs were muffled once more by his cock plunging into her mouth and straight down her throat. This time he only kept himself fully inside for a moment, just long enough to grind her face up into his groin. Then he began to fuck her face, his cock pumping in and out in harsh, savage thrusts that made her gag and choke again and spit saliva out to trickle down along her eyes and cheeks and nose.

            He doubled up the belt and began to lash her breasts again, the belt cracking down again and again and again as he raped her throat, and Hannah’s mind twisted and spun in the grip of agony, terror and nightmare.