Embed (verb) - To surround tightly or firmly; to envelop or enclose; to incorporate or contain; to fix into a surrounding mass
The sight of the tall gangly youth, loitering beneath the streetlight on the opposite side of the road, slightly unnerved Lisa as she hurried towards her destination. It may have only been her imagination, but she was certain that his eyes followed her; watching intently, eyeing her up even. Thank goodness she was nearly at the address to which she was heading.
Upon locating the correct house number that she was looking for, Lisa glanced back one last time at the silent watcher; motionless, yet still gazing in her direction. She shuddered involuntarily, partly due to the cold night air that suggested snow was on the way, but also because of the unease that this unsavoury character seemed to generate in her. Turning away, she quickly opened the garden gate and strode the few yards up to the front door.
It had been a strange thing to do in some respects and totally out of character for Lisa to act on impulse without putting a great deal of thought into it before making her decision. But the fact that she was currently out of work and desperately needed to find ways of earning some extra cash to supplement her Jobseekers’ Allowance, had persuaded her to answer the advertisement in the local morning paper.
‘House-sitter urgently required for this weekend. Friday evening to Monday. £300 + food and board. For details, telephone.......’
Friday evening? That was today! Despite the short notice, she rang the number without hesitation. The £300 would be a godsend if she was lucky enough to be chosen for the job.
The woman who answered the call seemed pleasant enough, if a little vague. She and her husband had been invited to stay the weekend with friends in Scotland at very short notice and they desperately needed someone to look after their son, Tom. Was she interested? The ad hadn’t mentioned anything about babysitting a child, but despite having reservations, Lisa heard herself say that she was. After being given the address and advised of the best way of getting there, the woman had hung up, having taken no details about Lisa other than her name. A little odd perhaps, but never mind. The woman was obviously in a bit of a panic about getting ready for their trip, and probably just grateful to find someone at such short notice.
Now, however, it was Lisa who was in a mild panic, as she rapidly collected together the clothes and other things that she would need for three nights away from home. At one stage, with time running out before she had to catch her bus, she briefly entertained the idea of ringing the woman back and saying sorry, but she’d reconsidered and now decided that she couldn’t make it after all. Why this notion entered her head she wasn’t entirely sure, but it seemed that somewhere deep down, her subconscious mind was warning her that she was getting into something that she’d later regret; after all, she knew nothing about child-minding. But she managed to push these unwelcome thoughts aside. She needed the money too much to pass up this golden opportunity to get herself out of debt. And besides that, it wasn’t in her nature to let people down. Checking one last time that she had everything that she could require for the weekend before closing her suitcase, Lisa suddenly realised that she’d informed no one of her intended whereabouts. For a second or two she contemplated ringing her parents, or maybe one of her friends, just to let them know where she’d be. But the realisation that this would waste valuable time and probably result in her missing the bus and arriving late, meant that this idea had to be jettisoned for the time being. She could always ring once she arrived at the house, she told herself.
It was 6:35 pm by Lisa’s watch when she rang the doorbell; ten minutes earlier than she’d been asked to arrive. Even so, the woman who answered the door - the same woman she’d spoken to this morning - apologised for not having the time to show Lisa around the house, as their taxi to the airport would be arriving at any moment and she still had a hundred and one things to do.
“Tom will show you to your room later. Please make yourself at home my dear.”
Whilst she scurried around making final preparations before their departure, the woman informed Lisa that their son Tom wasn’t allowed out after dark “under any circumstances whatsoever. He’ll stay out all night if you let him.” And if he went out during the day, she was to find out where he was going and when he’d be back. His curfew time was six o’clock. Nor was he allowed to have any of his friends around for what the woman called “a wild party”. This seemed a bit unusual, seeing as how he was only a child, but Lisa told her that she would do her utmost to ensure that he complied. It was just as Lisa was being ushered into the living room to meet her intended charge that the doorbell rang.
“That’ll be the taxi. I’ll get it” A man’s voice boomed from upstairs. Lisa glanced over her shoulder as she entered the room and caught a fleeting glimpse of a tall, dark haired man as he bounded down the stairs. She was distracted, however, by the woman, who had preceded her into the living room.
“This is Tom. Tom, this is Lisa who has kindly agreed to look after you this weekend. Now I want you to make Lisa feel welcome, show her around the house and do everything she tells you.”
The boy sitting slouched in an armchair watching the television briefly glanced up, before turning his attention back to the screen without uttering a single syllable. It was obvious straight away, however, that this was no child. The youth scowling at the TV must be - what? - sixteen or seventeen years old. That was only six years or so younger than herself! What on earth was going on here?
Lisa’s self-conscious attempt to break the ice was met only with a grunt, which she imagined must be his way of greeting people.
“Come on darling, we’ll miss the flight if we don’t hurry.” The man’s voice echoed from the hallway.
“Coming!” The woman shouted back and headed towards the door.
“Well, I hope you two get on well together. Tom, you behave yourself and do as Lisa asks.”
Tom grunted again, but didn’t avert his eyes from the screen. Even when his mother bent down and planted a kiss on his cheek he failed to respond, seemingly mesmerized by the flickering images before him. Lisa followed the woman out of the room and into the hallway. She felt a bit awkward.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but isn’t Tom a bit old for a baby-sitter? How old is he, anyway?”
The woman sighed.
“He’s sixteen. Look, I know that it may seem a bit strange, but the crowd he hangs about with are a bit of a wild bunch. Really, all I need you to do is make sure that he doesn’t bring all his friends around here. Last time we went away they wrecked the place. I’m sure everything will be fine, but here’s my mobile number if you need anything.”
She handed Lisa a piece of paper.
“We should be back sometime around eleven o’clock Monday morning hopefully. Have I covered everything?”
Lisa was on the point of asking a question, but before she could open her mouth, the man’s voice sounded from outside the front door. This time he seemed far more agitated.
“Come on woman, we’re late enough already.”
And with this command still ringing around the hallway, the woman was gone; her final utterance being shouted over her shoulder as she hurried out through the door.
“Tom will answer any questions you might have. Bye for now.”
The front door slammed shut; the sound lingering in the still air for several seconds after the event. For no apparent reason, the image that this sound brought to Lisa’s mind was that of a prison cell door shutting and incarcerating her. Once this had died away, the only sound came from the television through the open door to the living room. With some trepidation, Lisa took off her coat and made her way back into the room. Tom was still sitting in the same position as when she’d first arrived. He hardly seemed to realise that she was there.
“So, Tom, aren’t you going to show me around the house?”
“In a minute.”
His eyes remained glued to his TV programme, but at least now Lisa knew that he was capable of stringing a sentence together, albeit a short one.
“What are you watching?”
Her attempt at starting a conversation, however, was interrupted by the doorbell.
“I’ll get it.”
For someone who had seemingly had trouble even moving his eyes in their sockets until now, the speed at which Tom rose from the chair and hurried out of the room took Lisa completely by surprise. She was also taken aback by how tall he was now that she’d seen him upright. He must have been at least five feet ten, or maybe even nearer six feet tall. Not only that, but he was quite heavily built. To the five feet four inches tall slim, petit young woman, the sudden realisation of the size of this ‘child’ that she was supposed to be looking after suddenly hit her. If anyone had seen them together, she thought to herself, they’d probably assume that he was the one looking after her and not vice versa.
Lisa followed the departing youth into the hallway; her arrival there corresponding almost precisely with Tom pulling open the front door.
“Hello mate, come in.”
Lisa gasped inwardly as she caught sight of the new arrival. It was the youth that had so frightened her with his presence in the street outside. He’d obviously been biding his time, waiting for Tom’s parents to depart.
“This is Lucy, who’s come to ‘babysit’ me.”
They both laughed coarsely.
“It’s Lisa actually, not Lucy. Is this a friend of yours Tom?”
Lisa’s feelings of unease were growing by the second, but she was doing her best to ensure that her fear didn’t manifest itself openly. Her disquiet was only partially down to the mandate from Tom’s mother that no friends were allowed into the house. Here she was alone with two lads she’d never met before, both of whom towered over her. But there was something else - something almost sinister- that, try as she might, she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe it was the way they exchanged knowing glances at each other when they thought she wasn’t looking, or the mischievous grins that both wore when they looked directly at her. Whatever it was, Lisa had half a mind to grab her coat and suitcase and get as far away from this house as she could, and to hell with the money.
“This is Andy. I told him that he could come around this evening. That okay with you?”
“Well, your mother said...”
“My mother’s not here. Come on, I’ll show you to your room Lucy.”
Tom grabbed her suitcase, as Lisa once more corrected the error with her name. He began climbing the stairs, beckoning her to follow and, against her better judgment, she complied. It wasn’t until she was half way up, that the sound of footsteps on the carpet behind her told her that this Andy character was following them upstairs. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed his presence, only two steps below. He grinned as their eyes met; more of a smirk than a friendly smile, which sent a cold shiver down Lisa’s spine.
At the top of the stairs, Tom was waiting. The first door on the left stood open with the light on inside, and it was into this room that he motioned Lisa to enter. It was a tasteful, if sparsely furnished room, with just a bed, chair, chest of drawers, bedside table and wardrobe. The curtains and carpet were in matching dark green, the former being drawn closed. On the bedside table stood a lamp, and a landscape painting hung from one wall, but apart from this there were no other ornaments or embellishments.
“This is where you’ll be spending your weekend.”
Tom grinned at her and eyed her up and down, which did nothing to calm her already fraught nerves. It didn’t occur to her then, but with hindsight this remark was meant to be taken far more literally than she imagined at the time. Lisa put her handbag down next to her case on the floor and looked at the bed. It was an old, heavy, wooden framed affair. The base, supported by four short sturdy legs, reached nearly to the floor, leaving a gap of around three to four inches between it and the carpet. It looked comfortable enough.
“This is very nice Tom.” Lisa said as pleasantly as she could. “Now how about showing me the rest of the house? I’ll unpack later.”
“There’s no need for that.”
The voice from behind her sounded menacing. Lisa turned to face the speaker, who she found standing in the doorway, effective blocking the exit.
“Like Tom says, this is where you’ll be spending the rest of the weekend.”
Lisa’s fear could no longer be contained, and the tremor in her voice was audible.
“What do you mean?”
She turned back towards Tom, who, she had decided, was marginally less repulsive and creepy than his cohort. He was standing by the chest of drawers, with his hand in the top compartment.
“Well you see” he began hesitantly, “we’re going out tonight and I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave you here.”
“But you can’t. Your mother left clear instructions that I was not to let you go out at night.” Lisa stammered with as much authority as she could muster, but her fear was now acute, and she knew that they could sense her unease.
“We thought you might say something like that,” Tom sighed “so we had to come up with a plan to keep you out of the way.”
At that second, he pulled his hand from the drawer. As soon as the length of rope was revealed, Lisa panicked and turned towards the door. The fact that Andy was now right behind her, however, blocked her escape and she ran straight into him. This gave him the opportunity he needed to grab her.
“Let me go! Get your hands off me!”
Lisa screamed frantically as both youths fought to wrestle her to the floor. She put up quite a fight, but was no match for their superior bulk and strength, and within seconds the terrified young woman found herself lying face down on the carpet, with her arms being held firmly behind her back as the rope was wound tightly around her wrists. By the time Tom and Andy’s hands loosened their grip, hers were securely bound together, and no amount of wrenching and struggling would allow them to part. In fact, every movement seemed to cause the rope to tighten still further.
Her attackers weren’t standing idly by as she frantically tried to free her hands, however, as the next thing she knew, her ankles were being held together by one of the youths, while the other coiled a rope around them, before cinching and securing the bond with a tight knot. Lisa bucked and reared up as best she could, in an effort to thwart them inflicting more restraints on her, but as they had her pinned face down on the floor, it was all to no avail. A third length of rope soon found its way around her knees, and this too was pulled tight before being secured. Event followed terrifying event in quick succession now, as the second her captors had satisfied themselves that her legs were secure, one of them - in her stressed out state she wasn’t quite sure which - produced a rolled up piece of what looked like towelling material. Before she had time to take on board what was happening, this was thrust forcibly into her protesting mouth. Lisa shook her head and did everything within her now limited powers to spit this foul tasting ball of cloth out again. However, no sooner was this wedged behind her teeth, than a reel of grey tape appeared in front of her tear-filled eyes, and within seconds this had been stuck over her right cheek and was being pressed down over her mouth. The tape was then wound around her head three times, each time either slightly higher or lower than the first; bonding to her skin and creating an impenetrable seal. Now, however much she tried to work the material out of her mouth with her tongue, she was thwarted. While one of her tormentors was ensuring that the gagging procedure was completed satisfactorily, the other grabbed her elbows and pulled them as closely together as he could. Being young and supple, Lisa found now that her elbows could almost touch each other, although the force used to achieve this position caused her to scream with pain into the gag. Her elbows were destined to remain in close proximity to each other for the foreseeable future though, as another length of rope was now being coiled around her arms and secured as tightly as possible.
With their victim now bound at the wrists, elbows, ankles and knees, Tom and Andy released their grip on their prisoner, allowing her to test the efficiency of her bonds fully. But if she thought that this was to be the full extent of her ordeal, she was soon to have this illusion shattered. The frightened young woman could only watch in horror as a dog collar and lead were produced out of the same drawer from which the ropes had appeared. Paralysed with fear, she meekly whimpered and allowed Tom to fix the collar around her neck; knowing that she should be fighting back against her ever worsening predicament, but being unable to coordinate her thoughts sufficiently to galvanise her body into meaningful action. A million thoughts and questions raged in her head all at once. What would they do with her now? Torture her, perhaps? Rape her? When would they set her free? Had this whole setup, including the advert in the paper, simply been a plot to kidnap some unsuspecting young woman? Or was this just some boyish prank that would be over and done in a few minutes? Lisa desperately hoped that it would be the latter, although the signs didn’t seem to be pointing in that direction and she soon realised that this train of thought was merely wishful thinking on her part.
At first, Lisa didn’t understand the boys’ next actions, as Andy began lifting the bed from the floor at one end. It wasn’t until the heavy wooden structure was about two feet or so above the carpet, with the strain showing on his face as he struggled with the load, that she could see that, far from having a solid base, the bed had a false bottom; the actual ‘roof’ of the space beneath being a few inches higher than suggested by the surround. It was at this point, as Tom grabbed the chain that was fixed to Lisa’s collar and began dragging her, still face down, the two yards or so across the floor towards the space on the carpet recently obscured by the bed, that Lisa suddenly comprehended her intended fate. Struggling against the ropes and collar, screaming into her gag, she did everything within her severely reduced powers to put a halt to her impending entombment.
“Hurry up, this bloody thing’s heavy.”
Lisa hoped that she could hinder her forward progress long enough so that Andy was forced to put the bed down again. It might only be a brief respite, she thought, but at least it would give her a few more vital seconds to try to figure out an escape plan. Alas, however, Andy’s muscles held out and her bonds made it impossible to slow down her inevitable slide onto the patch of carpet normally unseen beneath the bed. She watched helplessly as the colour and texture became brighter and fluffier, as she was gradually hauled onto the pristine section of floor covering. For several seconds, she attempted to squirm back onto the worn, faded section, but it soon became apparent that she was now lying in the centre of the area required by her abductors to enable them to complete her imprisonment. A pillow was thrown carelessly onto the floor beside her by Tom; seemingly a token gesture of appeasement for the suffering they were inflicting on her.
“Keep your head down.”
This was the only warning she got, for as soon as the words had been uttered, there was an almighty crash, which coincided with a distinct darkening of the space around her. Lisa shut her eyes and made herself as flat as she could, fearing that she would be crushed. But fortunately for her, this didn’t occur. She felt the bed hit her alright, most notably on her buttocks and bound arms, but the false ceiling to her newly acquired tomb proved to be just high enough to prevent any major injury to the slim young female. There was, however, very little room to manoeuvre vertically now; no space to roll over onto her back, or even her side. For the foreseeable future, therefore, until such time as Tom or Andy - or whoever else might come to the aid of this damsel in distress - decided otherwise, she was condemned to spend all her time lying face downwards. She could move her head from side to side, although when facing straight in front, the ponytail at the back of her head scraped the wood above.
When Lisa opened her eyes, several seconds after the noise from the crash had ceased reverberating around the room, she scanned around her new environment; hoping that a way out could be found. But all she could make out in her new twilight world was a thin ribbon of light, perhaps three inches in height from the floor upwards, surrounding her on all sides, broken only by a sturdy wooden post at each corner. To her left she could see her shoes - one standing upright, the other lying on its side - just inches away on the other side of the perimeter to her prison. In the melee she hadn’t realised that she’d lost them, but the sight of her discarded footwear gave her an idea. With as much force as she could muster, Lisa kicked upwards at the low wooden ceiling. But without her shoes, and with merely a few inches to gain momentum in her swing, the sound that this produced was no more than a dull thud.
“I think she’s trying to tell us something” one of the louts said, to which they both laughed harshly. From the corner of her eye, Lisa saw movement at the end of the bed. Turning her head slightly, she caught sight of two pairs of eyes peering in at her.
“Secure her to the post then we can go.”
Andy’s order was followed a second or two later by a sharp pull on the chain, and Lisa found herself being pulled by the collar towards the corner of the bed nearest to the spot where Tom’s eyes stared in at her. Unable to take preventative action, she watched helplessly as the chain was wrapped twice around the post and secured by looping the end between the post and the coiled chain, before a small padlock was applied. Although a length that she estimated to be in the region of eight to ten inches still remained between post and collar, Lisa was now moored in place; unable to reach certain areas of the floor of her tomb. “See ya later” was the only remark either of the departing figures made to their captive, although once they’d switched off the light and closed the bedroom door behind them, the laughter at the mental torment - not to mention physical torture - that they had inflicted on their poor victim, could be heard gradually fading away along with their footsteps; informing Lisa of their descent of the stairs. Within no more than two minutes, the front door of the house could be heard slamming shut with great force, causing the bedroom floor to vibrate momentarily. And then there was silence.
Lisa struggled on half-heartedly for a while, occasionally attempting to draw attention to her plight with screams and kicks. But all to no avail. Even if she could have untied herself, she thought ruefully, she was certain that there was no way in the world that she’d be capable of lifting the bed up on her own, even enough to allow her to crawl out. She was trapped, and until such time as Tom and Andy returned she would be forced to remain in this sorry state. Somewhere, in the rooms below, a chiming clock struck eight. Lisa lay still now and waited, hoping that salvation would come sooner rather than later.
Nine...ten...eleven...midnight...one o’clock. At what Lisa reckoned to be around a quarter past one, she heard the front door open and quickly slam shut again. For a few minutes, the sounds of someone moving around downstairs reached her ears, followed by footsteps on the stairs, the sound of a toilet flushing and a tap running. Then silence reigned once more. Lisa’s muffled whimpering and kicking at the roof of her enclosed tomb during this period of activity went unheeded - or maybe even unheard - and the person responsible, who she assumed had to be Tom, failed to enter her room.
Two... three...four...five o’clock. Sometime between five and six in the morning, Lisa must have drifted off to sleep. The next thing she realised, there was a sharp tugging sensation in the region of her throat. Opening her eyes hurriedly, she saw that it was now daylight. Tom’s grinning face was no more than a few inches from hers, and getting closer all the time, as, inch by inch, he dragged her inert form towards the edge of the bed, like a fish being reeled in on a line. Lisa didn’t struggle to prohibit this forward motion, but neither did she exactly help speed up the process; not truly knowing whether being hauled towards this vile character was a good or a detrimental development in her ongoing nightmare. Her slithering journey drew to an inevitable conclusion when her face finally came into close proximity to the boarding at the edge of the bed which was, to all intents and purposes, the wall of her prison cell. Now staring at her from only an inch or so away, Lisa sensed that Tom was greatly amused by her continued state of incarceration. She gazed out at him, trying to look as pitiful as she possibly could, her eyes pleading for compassionate release. In reality, she was fuming with anger, but dared not let this show, lest any muffled outburst served to do more harm than good. Instead she hoped to play for sympathy.
“Please let me out of here....let me go... please!”
This was the message she tried to convey to her jailer, although the sounds that actually came out were virtually unrecognizable as speech, even to her. But she needn’t have worried unduly on this score, as almost immediately his hand reached under the bed and he began to peel the tape away from her mouth. Optimism surged through her. He was about to set her free! Working in such a confined space, the unravelling of the adhering tape took him several minutes, but finally the last piece of wrapping relinquished its grip on her face and it was with great relief that she was able to spit the rag from her mouth.
“For God’s sake get this bed off me!”
It immediately became apparent, however, that this was a false dawn, and that the removal of the gag was to be the only concession to freedom that she was to be given at this time.
“Sorry Lucy, no can do just now. I’ve brought you something to eat and drink though”
“MY NAME IS LISA AND I DEMAND THAT YOU SET ME FREE THIS MINUTE!”
Even with her immediate future so perilously uncertain, the fact that he had again got her name wrong, coupled with the fact that he thought he could appease her with the promise of refreshment, made her blood boil and subsequently led to her losing her cool.
“My my, you do have a temper on you, don’t you?” He whispered menacingly, and Lisa realised from his tone of voice that getting angry and making demands was not in her best interests. She therefore swiftly returned to begging mode.
“Come on, pleeeease!” The final word came out as an elongated whine.
Tom said nothing, but pushed a glass of orange juice towards her face and tilted it just enough so that she could drink out of it. Lisa hadn’t realised until she had tried to speak just how dry her throat and mouth had become, and she allowed him to pour some of the cool refreshing liquid into her grateful mouth. From the position that she was forced to lay in, with her head on one side touching the floor, drinking was an extremely difficulty exercise, however, and much of the juice ended up being spilt onto the carpet. Immediately the glass was empty, even before Lisa could take a breath, a slice of bread - thickly buttered - was thrust into her mouth, colliding with her teeth and being unceremoniously forced down her throat. Chewing as fast as she could and desperately trying to swallow as quickly as possible to avoid choking, Lisa felt totally degraded by this method of force feeding; like an animal in a cage being fed by a sadistic zookeeper who envisaged her as a thing rather than a human being. To her great relief, however, the bread was soon all in her mouth and she was allowed to chew and swallow the final mouthful at her own pace whilst Tom looked on; amused, it seemed, by her inability to keep up with his feeding technique. Now, she decided, was the time to try to make him see sense.
“Come on Tom. Let me go now and I won’t say anything to your parents about this.”
“Liar” Tom spat the word at her, seemingly angry at this perceived attempt at deception. This was, of course, a correct assumption on his part, as Lisa had every intention of letting his mother and father know of their son’s disgusting treatment of her.
“And anyway,” he continued in slightly less antagonistic fashion, “you’d be in the way of my plans for the rest of the weekend. So no, you’ll have to stay there until Monday I’m afraid.”
“Monday?! You can’t just keep me tied up like this until then!”
Lisa’s tears began to flow uncontrollably, as she saw now that she was doomed to lose this argument and with it any chance of freedom.
“Wanna bet? I can do just as I please, now that you’re all bound and helpless.”
“But I need to go to the toilet!”
Lisa blurted out this statement without thinking, although it was the truth. But suddenly, as she heard the words cascade from her trembling lips, a glimmer of hope appeared. It was obvious, from the perplexed expression on Tom’s face, that he hadn’t taken time to consider her needs on this score. It was time, therefore, to make the point more forcefully.
“There’s no way I can hold back until Monday, and if I wet and soil the carpet, your parents aren’t going to be too impressed, are they?”
Tom’s face remained a picture of indecision for a few seconds, before his mischievous grin returned. As soon as she saw this, even before he spoke, Lisa’s heart sank. It was obvious that she’d failed to convince him that it was in his best interests to release her on hygiene grounds.
“Yeah, I reckon they will be rather annoyed, won’t they? With you for pissing and shitting all over their carpet! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got more important things to do than listen to you whining all day.”
As he grabbed the reel of tape, until now hidden behind him, Lisa attempted to wriggle back towards the centre of the bed, out of his reach. Unfortunately, his other hand was already grasping the chain, which prevented her from backing off more than an inch or two. She screamed piercingly as he stuffed the rolled up towel back into her mouth, then in more muffled fashion as he pulled the end of the tape away from the reel and placed it over her mouth. She shook her head to try to stop the sealing of her lips once again, but a quick painful tug on her long blonde ponytail soon made her compliant, and within seconds he had the tape wound three or four times around her face and neck as before. Roughly, he pressed the adhesive strips down onto her skin to ensure that she couldn’t work them loose.
“Bye bye LISA.”
His exaggerated pronunciation of the final word letting her know that he’d finally remembered her name correctly.
And with that he was gone, the door again being closed behind him, leaving her once more to while away her hours of confinement in solitude.
Lisa felt totally dejected. Now, with nothing to take her mind off the predicament she found herself stuck in, she could think of no reason for optimism; no light at the end of a very long tunnel. Not only was she a helpless captive, but she now knew that her intended sentence was less than a quarter complete. The clock struck ten soon after the door slammed shut. It was going to be a long day.
Lisa spent the next few hours as motionless as she could. There seemed no point struggling any longer, as she figured that if escape had been achievable, then she would already have found the way to free herself by now. Yet each and every bond still caressed her limbs in unbreakably tight coils. Her strength and energy had deserted her now; a combination of lack of food, the awkward position in which she was forced to lie, plus a sense of utter futility, all being factors that conspired to engender this state of lethargy. Even if she did, by some miracle, attain release from the tight rope around her wrists, any attempt to lift the bed would, she was certain, end in dismal failure. And so it was with these considerations taken into account, that she came to the decision that the least painful and most strength conserving pastime for the foreseeable future was inactivity. That is, until she chanced upon a stunning discovery.
Quite how this moment of enlightenment came about, she wasn’t sure. But soon after the clock informed her that it was now three in the afternoon, Lisa found that movement of her legs gently rubbing against the carpet sent what could only be described as a thrill coursing through her. Curious as to the nature of this strange but fleeting phenomenon, she decided to experiment further. Whether it was the static in her tights brushing over the pile of the carpet, or something far more subjective, Lisa had no idea. But what she now discovered was that the feel of the two materials rubbing together sent a shiver of excitement racing through her body every time she moved. Not only that, but she found that the biggest and most satisfying wave of what could only be described as sexual arousal, coincided with any attempt she made to pull her legs apart. In fact, the more violent the struggle, the greater the pleasurable sensation seemed to get. Lisa was perplexed. On the one hand she was dismayed and disgusted with herself for realising, and then encouraging, this weird but not unpleasant phenomenon. On the other, she knew that she couldn’t just leave this alone; she had to have more of this fabulous experience. She’d heard of people using bondage as an aid to sex, of course, but had never considered trying it. And besides, she’d assumed that any pleasure deriving from such pursuits would occur only if two parties were involved, and more importantly, if both participants consented. Yet here she was, being held against her will, without hope of liberation for the best part of forty eight hours if Tom was to be believed, yet experiencing waves of something bordering on ecstasy that were building up to a pinnacle that she now felt she had to attain. Awkwardly manoeuvring the pillow into her crotch, she began jerking her legs backwards and forwards, rhythmically pulling on both her arm and leg bonds simultaneously, her buttocks caressing the ceiling of her incarceration chamber as her hips rose and fell in rampant delight. Rubbing herself against the edge of the pillow, she finally reached her climax and relaxed; the long drawn out moan that penetrated through her gag being both spontaneous and contented. For a while at least, she no longer cared whether her harrowing ordeal continued. She’d experienced something special - maybe even unique - that no other set of circumstances could have produced and would, she imagined, be impossible to replicate. At the point of drifting off into a blissful slumber, she found herself thanking Tom and Andy for inadvertently opening up a whole new world to her; a world that, if they hadn’t kidnapped her, would probably have remained beyond her grasp.
But stark reality returned on her awakening. Was it all a dream? Or had it really happened? If the answer to the first question was yes, then it had been very vivid and lifelike indeed. But now, as she gazed out from under the bed at the darkening room, the knowledge that she was still a prisoner in a strange house, and that nobody knew where she was, hit her once more like a sledgehammer. So she’d enjoyed herself for a few minutes. It was probably just her subconscious mind reacting against the dire circumstances she found herself in; a sort of safety valve in her hour of need to help take her mind off the situation and prevent her going insane with fear and worry. Part of her yearned to try the experiment again, just to test its repeatability, but she managed to refrain from doing so. She was in big trouble here and any attempts to make light of her predicament were, she told herself, transitory and illusory, and were deflecting her mind from the real objective, namely attempting to escape or attract attention to her plight.
In the gathering gloom, she gazed out at her suitcase, with her handbag sitting beside it on the carpet, exactly where she’d placed it as she’d entered this room almost twenty four hours ago. Her handbag contained her mobile phone - switched off - which, if she could get her hands on it, would be her lifeline out of this mess. There was a nail-file in the bag too, which she could have used to hack through the rope that bound her, if only she could reach it. The bag was no more than six feet from the periphery of the bed, but those six feet may as well have been six million as far as she was concerned; there being no way in the world that she could get to it.