An Easy Job 04 – by Felix Dartmouth – all text and illustrations © Felix Dartmouth. If this type of text and imagery is interesting to you, please SUBSCRIBE to Archives BBS.
No one spoke much through the meal and toward the end, Fernando became visibly nervous, and he kept looking out to the woods where he heard imaginary noises. He spoke in Spanish to the man who had met them at the hut, whom Stacy supposed to be an employee of Fernando’s and he nodded and went into the hut, and came out with what looked like an automatic rifle, which he propped up next to his chair. Stacy looked wide-eyed at Fernando, who dismissed her concern, “No worry, there are many beasts in the forest and they may be drawn by our lights.”
Stacy did not like the sound of this at all. An automatic weapon normally wasn’t used for animals, but for people. Suddenly a shot ripped out in the darkness and the host, Fernando’s employee, was blown back off the back of his chair.
“Baja!” shouted Fernando, and Katrina grabbed Stacy’s arm and they began running toward the hut, but dark figures emerged into the light of the Coleman lanterns and stood before them. They turned to see if Fernando made it to the rifle, but they saw four men pointing automatic weapons at him, with one of the rifle butts to his temple. ”
“Katrina…” whimpered Stacy.
“Silencio!” shouted one of the men. Katrina shook her head at Stacy and looked down. She put her hands over her head, and she motioned that Stacy should do the same. They two young women made quite a pair, one dressed in a smart and feminine cotton dress and heels, and the other dressed very simply in a slutty smock and sandals, but both were very beautiful in their own way. Both were completely at the mercy of the unidentified captors, and Stacy bore
the added tension of not even knowing where she was and not even knowing if she were on the correct side of the law. Were these her captors the law? Would it be better or worse for her if they were?
Things began to happen very fast. Fernando stood up, and lead off down the trail. No sound was heard. After a very long twenty seconds, as Stacy and Katrina stood paralyzed by the rifles pointed toward their heads, a car started down the road and drove off. The two men who had taken Fernando walked back down the road, and one of the carried a large black bag. The other man approached the two girls, the American and the Mexican beauties, both with their hand on their heads and shone the flashlight in their faces.
He gruffly spoke to Katrina, “Pone las manos atras de la braza!”
Stacy did not understand what he said, but Katrina did and she quickly put her hands behind her, knowing that they must be bound. The man with the bag took out a length of thin cord, about four feet in length, and with the cord between his teeth, took both of Katrina’s wrists and placed them in a crossed position behind her back, and lashed them by winding around the wrists, and then cinching between them, and finally tying off the rope in front of in a tight square knot both over and under her wrists. Katrina grimaced with the pain of her binding strictures. The man moved over Stacy.
“Y Tu’!” he barked.
Stacy did not need a translator to immediately put her hands in a crossed position behind her. She gasped at the severity of the strictures placed about her wrists. Not even the traveling bag, in which she had been encased in on her trip over, unable to move for the dark, unseen wedges and bindings that held her constrained in the hanging travel prison, seemed quite as savage and these wrist bindings to her, a woman dressed in white in the dark of an unknown Latin country.
After this binding was accomplished by whom Stacy supposed was the assistant, he looped a length of the thin cord about the necks of both Stacy and Katrina and tied them together. The he tied a longer cord to the rope that joined their throats. The the two women were tied in the classic slave coffle, so effective and humiliating for women in bondage throughout the ages.
“Vengan!” he ordered, and then enforced his order before Stacy and Katrina had a willing chance to comply by pulling tautly on the rope, using it as a throttle to compel them toward his desired destination, in the same general direction as they had taken Fernando.
Fernando was the last thought from Stacy’s mind at the present. As she stumbled down the jungle road, she tried to look over at Katrina, being pulled along beside her with her own hands tied tightly behind her back, but Katrina, too, was paralyzed with fear, and was afraid to look over at her fellow captor for fear of reprimand from her captors.
After several hundred yards, and after a bend in the road, the quartet approached an army jeep. One of the men took a knife and cut the cord that joined their throats, and allowed the noose around their necks, and the cord attached dangle as a handle. The elegantly clad Stacy and the simply clad Katrina were helped in, with Stacy in the back seat and Katrina in the front seat. The man who had done the tight tying drove, and the man with the gun took the back seat with Stacy. The girls’ ankles were tightly lashed together in a crossed position, in a manner that any excess movement would cause pain, but they were not gagged.
With their bound hands and tied legs and no seatbelts, Stacy and Katrina found it difficult to maintain their balance in the open roofed jeep. They each feared that they might be thrown from the speeding jeep while rounding a turn. They were driven for mile after mile. The mountain wind blew against their faces and through their hair. Their captors were silent. In the back seat, the man who sat with Stacy kept a respectful distance from her, and in fact even once steadied her by holding her elbow as the jeep rounded a particularly dangerous curve. The driver was too busy with the mountain road to bother much with the tied Katrina, who had to cope the best she could, by turning her legs toward the driver, and sitting sideways with her bound hands toward the outside of the jeep.
They approached the top of one of the many small mountains, smaller cousins of the great Rocky Mountains further north, and Stacy and Katrina both saw a city below with lights over a wide area.
The driver stopped the car. The man in the backseat pulled a ball gag out of his bag and pulled Stacy over by forming a ponytail of Stacy’s hair with his hand and pulling her over. He was rather rough with her, although mouth. she showed no signs of non-compliance, and he lifted the ball up to her She opened wide to receive it, and he placed it behind her teeth. He then pulled both the leather straps around her head and buckled them under her hair. Then he handed a gag to the driver to affix on Katrina. Knowing she had no choice, she leaned over toward him with her mouth open. He strapped the gag around her face and buckled the strap under her long dark hair. Katrina gnawed on the gag to adjust it in her mouth.
The jeep slowly started and began driving at a slow speed through the outskirts of the city. There were not many people on the street, and those that were, did not really980312_2.jpg (52804 bytes) seem concerned about the four figures on the jeep. If they had been able to see that the two girls were thoroughly trussed up and gagged, they did not so indicate, either out of fear or indifference.
They pulled up to a warehouse-type of building, and the two men got out and went inside, leaving their two prisoners in the jeep. Katrina looked back at Stacy desperately, and Stacy returned her panicked glance, but thus trussed, there was nothing that either of them could do. The street appeared deserted, and they could not have called out even if there were anyone on the street. A few feeble attempts to move to a position where she could get at Katrina’s wrist bonds left Stacy with sore wrists and ankles, frustrated, and breathing heavily through her nose over her mouth-filling black ball gag.
Katrina tried to say something in Spanish through her gag, and Stacy tried to say “What,” but even if they were not gagged, they could not effectively communicate with each other, and since they were, they could not effectively communicate with any potential rescuers.
Three men came out of the warehouse, different than the men who had taken them in the wilderness and delivered them so effectively restrained. One man, reaching into the backseat, grabbed Stacy roughly and with quick hands and evaluated the manner in which she had been trussed up. Seeing that her legs were tied, he pulled out a knife, and expertly cut the thin cords that had been knotted so many times around and between her ankles. He pulled her from the jeep, and seeing that a thin cord hung as a convenient handle from her throat, he wrapped the cord around his fist as a throttle. Katrina was subjected to much the same procedure, and the two were lead into the warehouse.
As the prisoners were lead through the building, business-like office hallways gave way to cavernous darkness, and then to a dingy small storage area. They were taken through a door, and both Katrina and Stacy were shocked and terrified to see a space of prison cells. They could not tell how many, but there were more than five, there maybe were ten or more. As they were lead past, Stacy caught a glance of another young woman, with long dark hair, in an evening gown, with black kid leather gloves, lying hogtied and sobbing wildly on the floor of a cell. She imagined that this unfortunate woman had been taken at some formal affair. An evening of glamour had become for her a lifetime of hopeless bondage. Wanting to stop and see, she turned her head and was rewarded by a stinging tug on the thin cord tied to her neck.
Both women, in their bonds, were photographed. First they were were photographed with their gags in place, then the gags were removed, and they photographed without them. About twenty pictures were taken of each woman, from different angles, with close ups and full body shots.
Stacy was then lead in front of Katrina, and the two were taken around the corner to a cell that had a strong solid iron door, with only a small rectangular opening near the base for food. Stacy began protesting wildly, as wildly as she could with her hands so tightly strung together, but both she and Katrina were pushed into the cell. Their eyes, already adjusted to dark, saw a dank cell with tile flooring and two steel beds with thin mattresses.
The guards lay them each down on the bed and with a cord tied their legs. Stacy’s legs were drawn up to her hands and tightly tied off. The cord around her neck
was then tied, leaving little slack to the heavy iron railing of the bed she was hogtied onto. Katrina received much the same treatment, but Stacy noticed that the guard who tied her was somewhat careless and did not tie her neck cord to the bed.
Stacy half-expected to be ungagged when the guard brushed away her hair and looked for the buckle tightly fastened behind her neck, but when he located it, he simply checked it to make sure that the strap was in its keeper, and then replaced her hair. Stacy groaned deeply in her throat.
The guards turned to go, and as the exited the door, they took one last look at their prisoners. They turned, slammed the heavy steel door shut with a loud clang, and then slid a heavy metal bolt into place and placed a padlock on it, locking it into place. One rectangle of light remained, the tray hole, and within twenty seconds this was also slammed shut and locked.
The girls, stunned with the hopelessness if the situation, began to weep.
Less than an hour ago, they were enjoying dinner in the wilderness with a friend of Fernando, and now they were captured by unknown parties for unknown reasons and were extremely stringently bound and locked away. Even Stacy, who before enjoyed a temporary indentured status which soon would return, by contract, to freedom, was paralyzed with the uncontrolled nature of her situation. Her bondage now seemed far more foreboding and permanent than the contractual bonds that she had assumed for this voyage.
Her back was arched by her hogtie, and with her tears, her nose became congested, making it necessary for her to breathe through the corners of her mouth around her ball-gag. Katrina wept quietly in the other cot near Stacy. They were left there for hours. The tears no longer flowed after a period of time, but the hopelessness remained.
Their hog-ties were intractable. Prying fingers could loose no knots, and cramps in the back of the legs were the answer to struggle. Knotted to the bed-frame by her neck, Stacy did not dare move around too much, for she could see that falling off the bed could mean death for her.
In the total darkness, sounds of weeping subsided, and sleep overtook the pair in spurts, with occasional waking to the pain of the bonds and the depression of this cruel imprisonment.
After many hours their prison door opened with a clang. Stacy craned her neck to see who entered. It was Fernando, carrying a knife! “Ten prisa!”, he whispered sharply to Katrina. He cut loose the rope from her up, rubbed her legs to her hands, and then cut her leg and wrist bonds. She quickly got tortured wrists, and, stumbling a little, went to help him loose Stacy. She did not bother to remove her own ball-gag.
They quickly knifed the thin cord around the legs of Stacy, and then they cut the cord from Stacy’s neck to the bed frame very close to the bed, leaving them a handle by which to lead her. Her hands were not loosed. Stacy wondered about her disposition. Was this an escape attempt? She supposed that it was. Maybe they were leaving her bound because they did not want her to blow their escape, and maybe she was bound because she was still contracted for it. At any rate, she wished that she had been freed as Katrina had. She did not have a lot to say about it right now.
As the two hustled her out of the dark cell, she saw a guard lying on the floor with blood flowing from his head, and she surmised that Fernando had prevailed over him. After several turns, they ran into another guard, and Fernando quickly dispatched him with his knife. Stacy’s heart was racing with the danger they were undergoing, but she was dragged and pushed through a door to the outside. The jeep that they had arrived in was outside, and the key was in it. Fernando motioned that Katrina should put Stacy in the front seat, and as he ran around to he driver’s seat, he threw her a length of rope. Fernando started the jeep as Katrina, still gagged herself, forcefully tied off Stacy’s ankles, and moved into the backseat, she herself tied up for adventure.
Stacy looked into the backseat as Fernando drove wildly off, with no pursuit, to see Katrina struggling with the strap on her ball gag, and having very little success. Fernando also looked back and asked, “Esta’ cerrado con llave?”
Katrina, bouncing back and forth in the backseat, nodded. Her ball gag had been locked on behind her neck, so she would remain in her gag. She leaned forward, and held the shoulders of Stacy so she would not fall out. They had made their escape!
©Felix Dartmouth, 1998
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