I don’t know why I went to the club early. Maybe I figured if I went early I could leave early and get my Saturday night ritual over with then go back home. Every time I go looking for someone all I get is a headache from the loud music, strobe lights, and cigarette smoke. Even when I do score I don’t really get anything out of it. Cruising had lost its appeal a long time ago, but what else was I going to do except wander through the smoke, light, and blur of faces.

The last thing I remember after taking my drink was looking down at my shoes and wondering why they were getting closer and the music at the bar was getting louder. When I woke I was staring at the ceiling. From an open window to my right I could hear the wind moving through the trees outside. The silhouette of the leaves danced on the ceiling against the blue-gray background of the moonlight. The darkness, the sound of the leaves, and the warm wind were all very soothing--until I tried to sit up.

When I tried, I couldn‘t move my arms. I looked to my right and my left and both my wrists were held by leather cuffs. The cuffs were attached to chrome chains and the chains were bolted to a heavy wooden headboard. There was a small amount of slack in the chains to keep my arms from cramping up, but not enough to allow me to sit up. When I tried moving my legs I discovered they were chained down at the other end of the bed. As I became more alert I felt the soft bed sheets against my skin and realized I was naked, spread eagled, and tied down. I felt the blood drain from my face and my heart stared to race as I realized that whoever took me had me at their mercy.

I remembered reading about John Wayne Gacy and how he drugged young men, brought them back to his house where he tortured, raped, and murdered them in his attic. The more I thought about what was going to happened the faster my heart beat, the more I hyperventilated, and consequently I began to tremble all over.

I had worked myself into such a frenzy that when I heard the footsteps coming down the hall I jerked hard enough to hurt the muscles in my right shoulder. The footsteps sounded like bare feet on hardwood floor. I could hear them coming from the right side of the house until they reached the hallway. They grew louder and louder until they reached the front door. After a brief pause the door opened and I saw who brought me here.

It was a small consolation that it wasn’t a John Wayne Gacy type.

I couldn‘t quite make her out in the dark. All I could see at first was a smooth, pale face crowned with black hair, her body covered in a black robe. I could see her better as she went around the room lighting the candles placed on the bookcase, the dresser, and the nightstand to my left. She wore a black silk bathrobe with vivid red trim. Her straight, long brown hair ran down to the small of her back and was pulled back and tied in a ponytail. Her eyes matched the color of her hair and had a soulful quality you wouldn‘t expect from a kidnapper. The contours of her face were more angular. She had high cheekbones, a squared chin, thick eyebrows, and her cream colored skin contrasted sharply with her dark eyes and hair.

As she set the mood a variety of scenarios ran through my head. She could be having a psychotic break and plans to use me in some ritualistic murder. Maybe she’s been stalking me for six months and thinks she’s having a romance with me. Or she could simply want to get off torturing and strangling me.

I didn’t think talking to her would help but I couldn’t just lay there and let whatever she planned happen. “Look,” I said, “I don’t know what you’re planning but you haven’t done it yet, which means you can still let me go and walk away. I won’t tell anybody.”

She sat down on the bed and smiled gently. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to injure you.”

“Prove it by letting me go,” I replied.

“I’ll prove it by showing you. Trust me.”

“How am I supposed to trust you when you--” then a thought occurred to me. “How did you drug me anyway?”

“You really don’t remember seeing me do you?” Her eyes turned towards my body as she ran her hand gently over my chest, pausing at my right nipple and taking it between her fingers. I could feel some of the tension in my body fade into arousal at her warm touch. I tried to snap out of it and focus on persuading her to release me.

“Remember you from where?”

“The club tonight. You were sitting at the bar alone, looking bored. It was like you were there because you thought there was nowhere else to go. You wanted to leave but didn‘t know anyplace better. I‘ve seen that look in the mirror a few times myself.”

“No I don’t, I don’t understand. Now let me-” I was stopped by the sharp pain shooting through my chest coming from my nipple that she was now pinching hard.

I gritted my teeth and held back a yelp. I wasn’t going to give here the satisfaction of screaming. Then, just as suddenly as she’d started, she let go and I exhaled and began gasping for breath.

I tried to think of a response. What could I say to get her to release me without getting killed? She has a list of triggers I kept setting off. The first was at the bar when I must have ignored her. I remember going to the john for a few minutes. She could have easily spiked my drink. If guys can do it, why can’t a woman?

Then it occurred to me that this might be some warped from of payback for her. Some guy raped here and now she was getting even.

I had to say something, so I said the only obvious thing, “ You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

She gave me that slight smile again and shook her head. “No. I said I wouldn’t injure you. All I did was pinch you a little.”

While keeping eye contact with me she wrenched my left nipple. Again there was the pain, and again I held back a yelp as I kept eye contact in this warped contest.

“See,” she said. “You can handle that.”

She then leaned over me and began caressing the nipple she had just attacked. I’d had women suck my nipples before and it was okay, but twisting it the way she did had made it much more sensitive and her now gentle touch as releasing sensations I never thought possible. My body had again gone from tense to utterly relaxed in seconds. The only sound in the world was her lips and tongue smacking together as she massaged my sensitive nub.

“Did you like that?” she asked sweetly. I didn’t answer. She looked down at my cock and smirked. “So you did.”

Never losing eye contact, she reached under the bed and pulled out a black nylon gym bag and tossed it onto the bed. My kidnapper then climbed onto the bed, straddling me, and whispered “Time to take this to the next level.”

I decided reasoning with her was over so I went to my backup plan---I screamed. “Help!” I called out. “Help me somebody!!”

“Help!!!” she screamed even louder than I could. We both paused, there was nothing but the sounds of crickets outside.

“You see I live miles away from any neighbor. My house is way off the main road and is surrounded by trees. Nobody can see or hear us. We have our own private island.”

By now my right shoulder was cramping from the strain I’d put on it earlier and I was again trying to hold back the pain, but my tension showed on my face and she took notice.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What do you care?” I responded.

She leaned over and gently stroked my face, her concern seemed genuine. “Please, I promised I wouldn’t let you get injured.”

For a few seconds I was silent again. “I’ve got a bad cramp in my right shoulder.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Now just relax, I’ll fix it.”

As she slid across me I tried to ignore how good her silk robe felt as it went over my body. Her heat radiated through it and I enjoyed the sensation despite myself.

She pulled a small bottle of oil out of the bag beside me and poured a small amount into her palm. After massaging it into her hands she reached under me and began massaging my shoulder slowly. At first she probed for the tight spot, then firmly kneaded it until my cramp went away. As she was tending my shoulder I turned away, again trying to ignore the pleasure she was giving me, hoping I could will away the arousal building in my body. I tried to focus on the candle on the nightstand, which was now emitting a light vanilla scent.

After a few minutes the soreness was gone. “Better?” she asked. I nodded.

“Good, now we can begin.”

Again, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small chrome chain. On each end there were small, vice-like fasteners which she placed on each nipple.

This isn’t to say I let her do this. I tried struggling, shifting around, and even screaming for help. But as she said, we were isolated and I was at her mercy. She simply grabbed each breast and fitted them on. She then began tightening them gradually until the stinging sensation was nearly unbearable. I again fought the urge to cry out, but it was much harder now that I was dealing with the cold, unending pressure of the clamps. Unfortunately, my pain was revealed in my face and she was satisfied with her efforts.

I gritted my teeth as the pain continued, trying to stay defiant. She stared back at me cocking her head slightly as she examined my reaction.

“Why the fuck are you doing this!?” I asked.

“You’ll understand later.”

“I want to understand now!” I replied.

“But it’s not up to me. You have to see this through to the end. You can do it, I know you can.”

The next object she pulled out of the bag was a soft bristle brush, which she began sliding over my clamped nipples. Each slow stroke seemed like an eternity of burning pain that was constant and unyielding. By now I could no longer hold my pain in, and with each exhale I let out a muted scream as she would slowly move the brush over each piece of my tortured flesh.

Slowly I felt my resistance fading with each stroke as my body began instinctively struggling to get away from the brush each time it came near. I was no longer someone trying to fight a battle of wills with my captor, and my primitive mind began creeping further into my consciousness and I began succumbing to blind, animal panic.

I’m not sure how long this lasted, I was just thinking moment to moment, depending on where she was placing the brush. Then she finally stopped. I couldn’t believe how exhausted I was just trying to endure the torment. The only thing worse than her putting the clamps on was taking them off. I strained against my chains as one last final shot of pain went through me as she undid both clamps. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, totally oblivious to everything around me, hoping that it was all over. Then she called to me softly and I prepared myself for another round.

“You still with us?” she asked mischievously.

When I looked to my right I saw what she had in mind. She’d taken off her robe while I was resting and had slipped a dildo on. She let her robe drop to the floor and I noticed that she also wore a black tank top that cut off right at the bottom of her rib cage. As my eyes moved over her I studied her muscular legs, flat abs, and very slight bust line. The combination of her slender figure and her straight hair accentuated her natural elegance and again I was aroused. Then I saw her placing a condom and lube over the dildo and braced myself for the inevitable.

She slowly climbed onto the bed again and admired her catch. “Are you going to fight me?”

“Are you going to fuck me?”

She gave me that coy smile again and nodded. “You have to accept that so you won’t get injured. I promised I wouldn’t injure you and I keep my promises. Now just relax.”

I couldn’t figure her out what she wanted. The crazy bitch kidnaps me, hold me prisoner, tortures me, yet she simultaneously acts like she cares about me, saying I’ll understand when she’s done. I was terrified, bewildered, and strangely curious.

The crazy lady gave me this look, like she understood what I was going through, and sympathized. She stroked my left cheek, but I was so on edge I jerked away as she made contact. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

Leaning over, she went to work on my nipples again. She slowly ran her warm tongue each one silently. They were still very sensitive and the sensations she produced were unbearably good. It’s strange, we like to think the rational part of our brain can rule the instinctual part, not the other way around. Yet as I lay there with my captor playing my body like an instrument, setting off all my instinctual cues, I felt my conscious self giving up and giving in to her.

As the tension in my body eased, she moved further down, gently kissing my stomach, running her tongue around my navel, and running her trimmed nails lightly along my shaft and scrotum. I was so relaxed from the sensations I hadn’t noticed during a brief pause that she’d unfastened my ankle cuffs. When she lifted my legs and began playing with my ass I didn’t put up a fight. The combination of the light touch on my cock with the teasing of my ass was driving me into a frenzy and when she finally entered me I didn’t fight. For the first time in my life I was going to just let things happen.

I had always thought being fucked would be painful. Instead, all I felt was the slight give at my opening, followed by a gentle, steady pressure/pleasure as she went into me. It was so wonderful I moaned as she began moving in and out, slowly at first, but quicker as her own arousal built up from the friction the strap-on was putting on her clit, and she began to moan as well.

As I looked up, the serene, detached expression had been replaced by a look of blissful relief as her pleasure began building with each gyration of her hips. Her smile widened, her eyes widened, and her cries of pleasure grew louder, faster, and more frantic. This poised, controlled, articulate woman had changed into an unhinged animal, only capable of expressing herself in a series of moans and squeals as she continued to gently thrust herself into me.

The pleasure was so great I was changing too. I had finally let go of everything and given into her completely and utterly. I no longer cared about the next hour, the next day, or the next week, and had become a writhing, moaning thing straining against my chains, and wrapping my legs around her as I helped bring her in closer with each thrust. The only pause in this was when she took her small vibrator and placed the piece of buzzing latex against my penis, making me moan ever louder. The sensation of her inside me, along with the unrelenting pleasure generated by the vibrator reverberating through my cock completely overwhelmed me. It didn’t take but a minute of this for me to climax, and she joined me a few seconds later in a chorus of primal abandon as we screamed together.

It’s not like I haven’t had an orgasm before. But all those other times I was so busy concentrating on the girl I was with, making sure I was doing things right for her, or wondering if she was faking it, that I’m not sure I ever truly enjoyed myself. I would go, and go, and go, then feel it come and a few seconds later it would be gone. This time, the orgasm built up much slower, lasted longer, and was much more intense. It went like a surge of warm electricity that washed over me in a massive wave and left a dreamy euphoria in its wake. I was so dazed, having no sense of time, that I barely noticed that she’d had undone my wrists and wiped the cum off my stomach.

When I finally sat up she’d changed again. She wasn’t my serene captor with the Mona Lisa smile, seducing my body despite my mind. She wasn’t the creature who got off from total sexual control. I saw a woman with sensitive eyes, kneeling on the bed, watching me. She had switched her strap on for a pair of plain black cotton women’s briefs which matched her tank top. Sitting up and facing her she wasn’t as large or invulnerable as she’d been. If I wanted to, I could beat her senseless for what she’d done.

But what had she done to me? Despite the pain she gave me I wasn’t truly injured, just as she’d promised. She had even tended to my muscle cramp. True, she had taken my freedom for a few hours, but she had given me much more. She had shown me how to let go and place my fate in someone else’s hands. She had taken me, carried me through this experience, and showed that I could be safe in her hands. I’d never allowed myself to do that before, no matter how many women I’d slept with. She saw that need in me, that’s why she took me.

Yet despite her insight I realized she needed to have complete control in order to let go of herself. She had me naked and chained down, yet I’d seen nothing more than her bare legs and arms because she needed to feel protected. I looked at her in both awe and sympathy, and she stared right back examining my every expression with the same serenity she’d had all evening. She had to realize that she was taking a big risk letting me free, yet she seemed perfectly calm.

She knew I wouldn‘t do anything to her, she had seen how much I had enjoyed our night and was waiting for me to admit it, so I did. I moved myself closer until my legs were around her. She stiffened slightly. I then leaned over and kissed her for the first time, gently and deeply. She then smiled and kissed me back as we put our arms around each other. She hugged me tightly like an old friend and whispered “I knew you’d understand.”

“Thank you” I whispered back.

“By the way,” she responded, “My name is Alicia.”

I kissed her again and we both laid down and held each other, taking comfort in our mutual warmth. Again there was nothing but the sound of the wind flowing through the trees outside as I felt her heartbeat against my chest. I’ve had that heartbeat against me every night since.