Agent 38: A DID Spy Thriller (Various)

[BobaFettish1]

Chapter Five: “Escapable"
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Okay, let’s pause right here for a second.

Yup, this is older me again, in case you were wondering. I don’t mean to keep holding you in suspense, but I figured it was time for an update from present day me.

Yes, I’m still very much tied up in this god forsaken basement... store room... dungeon... Whatever this is.

No, I still haven’t been interrogated, or whatever these Italian mobster assholes have in store for me.

And no, I haven’t figured out a way to get out of my current bondage situation.

So not much has changed in that regard.

But something else has changed for me, you just might not notice it right off the bat.

All these years I thought I was a hardened soldier. An agent without fear. But, as it turns out, I was just lying to myself. That scared teenager that found herself tied up at the mercy of a burglar in her own basement has been a part of me this whole time. Even after all I’ve been through over the years, I still couldn’t shake the paralyzing fear that I felt that day, all those years ago.

And the thing is, today that schoolgirl in the basement taught me something. Because she was terrified, yes, but she also didn’t give up, no matter how dark things got. She showed me that I can be afraid and still complete my mission. She proved that there’s always a way out...

...That nothing is inescapable.

So, whether it’s terrible siblings, burglars, mobsters, rope, chains, duct tape, or thumb cuffs, I will never stop fighting.

So, not to that I want to bore you with more of my teenage misadventures, but I think we need to see this flashback through to the end. We just might learn something valuable from it.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I stayed silent.

I didn’t make a move.

I listened intently as the soft footsteps eventually faded away. I stayed calm and motionless for what seemed like forever and took slow, measured breaths through my gag.

Yes, the ropes that surrounding my stomach, chest and throat did make it a bit hard to breath. And the way the man had bound my legs and arms made all my extremities ache, and I could already feel them going numb from the lack of circulation.

But I didn’t care. I blocked out the pain, the worry, and the fear that threatened to creep back into my mind. I had a job to do, a “mission” I told myself, and nothing was going to stop me from completing it.

I waited in silence, and stiffness, for an incredibly long time. So long, I swore it had to be daylight outside. If this were a normal day, I would probably still be in bed in my favorite pink pajamas without a care in the world. But this wasn’t just any ordinary day. Not only was I groggy from not sleeping, I was still wearing my school uniform from yesterday! I never even got a chance to change out of my of my white, button up shirt, blue sweater and my plaid mini skirt. The robber had done me the favor of removing my white knee high socks(after I’d gotten rid of my shoes myself), but now I wished I still had them on. The soles of my feet burned with pain after having to support my wait for several hours without a break.

I kept waiting. It was excruciating, but I couldn’t take any chances. I had to be sure that burglar was long gone before I began my work. If he caught me mid-escape(again), he might tie me up even tighter... or worse.

After waiting a while longer, I finally decided it was time.

Slowly but surely, I began moving my hands and grabbed at an object stuck up behind my wrists and out of view. I carefully pulled the object down with my fingers and into my palm, revealing it to be... a screwdriver!

And not just any screwdriver, the one that once belonged to the robber. The tool that mean man had used to threaten my life.

The idiot was so busy tying me up so he could steal from me and my family, he failed to realize;

I stole something from him.

The masked man had sloppily stuffed the screwdriver into his pants just as he began tying me up. He then made the mistake of getting close to me in the middle of his rope work, putting the screwdriver’s handle within reach of my bound hands. I quickly snatched the tool from him and hid it under my hands while he was tying up my elbows. I was paranoid for a while that he would notice it was missing and start looking for it, but that never happened. Thankfully the thief never had another reason to threaten me with it. He had left the basement, completely oblivious to what I had done.

And now I had my work cut out from me.

A screwdriver certainly wasn’t the most ideal thing to use while escaping rope, it was more blunt than anything. But it was a flat head, which meant it had thin, sharp tip. It could get into places and work through knots my fingers would never reach. Also, it was pretty rough and rusty, which meant simply rubbing it against the rope would cause my bindings to fray and split. With a lot of effort, I might even be able to cut through some of the rope with it.

This new challenge had actually got me excited. I hadn’t felt this way since... well, since my brother first started tying me up all those hours ago. Surely my excitement wasn’t misplaced this time.

I worked quickly and carefully, knowing that if I happened to drop the screwdriver I would be losing my only hope for escape.

Even with my vision impaired due to the blindfold, I didn’t slow down. I jammed the sharp end of the screwdriver into the knot between my wrists and fiddled around for a while. Before long, I actually felt it loosen. And then... my hands were free!

For the first time since since my devious brother had tied them together with clothesline yesterday, I was now able to move my hands freely and separately. With my elbows still securely bound together, on top of the numbness and stiffness that had set in, I only had a limited range of motion. Still, it was a liberating feeling. But I knew my work was far from over.

After allowing the feeling to come back to my hands, I began to pick at some of the knots around my torso. I was able to untie several of the ropes around my stomach and chest, relieving more pressure. I still had to be very careful considering the rope around my throat still threatened to choke me. If I was going to make any real headway, I had to get that off. But my tied elbows prevented me from lifting my hands any higher than my chest. My next task was to free my arms.

I wiggled and slid my arms up and down trying to slip out of the rope. With my wrists unbound it gave me more leverage, but it still wasn’t enough. The clothesline my brother had bound them with was already tight, and the the robber had only made it tighter. There was no easy way out of this.

I used the screwdriver to try and pry at the anchor point between by elbows, but it was no use. It was impossible to reach my elbows with my hands. I stopped struggling for a moment and placed my hands on the cold pole that had been digging into my back since yesterday afternoon. I blindly ran my fingers across the metal bar and noticed that it wasn’t as smooth as I’d originally thought. It was actually quite rough, and rubbing my hand across it the wrong way just might scrape it or break the skin.

Or even cut through some stubborn clothesline.

Carefully, without putting too much pressure on my neck rope, I began moving my arms up and down along the pole. The knot between my elbows was naturally pressed against the pole, having been anchored their by my second captor. I moved my elbows in short bursts, pressing the rope as hard as I could into the pole. Pretty soon I could tell that significant friction was being applied to the rope because it slowly became warm due to the rubbing. The harder and longer I rubbed, the more heat I could feel. For a moment I became concerned that I might actually make the rope catch fire, and while it would certainly help me escape, I likely would also catch fire, making my already awkward situation that much more uncomfortable.

I took my time and used frequent breaks to quell the heat and conserve my energy. As I worked, I could feel the clothesline loosening. Suddenly, I felt a couple of the strands snap and break free. The rest of the clothesline’s became much more loose, and to my amazement, I simply lifted my arms up and slide them out of the bindings.

Now free of all the rope, I flailed my arms Wildly in celebration of my accomplishment. Unfortunately I had little feeling or energy left in either of them, and they both slumped to my sides. It took several minutes before I could build up the strength to bring them up to my neck. I slowly worked at the rope securing my neck to the pole, and soon it too was untied. I then grabbed at my tape gag and blindfold, sloppily ripping them both off my face. I grabbed the tape almost too quickly and the searing pain of the adhesive ripping off my skin caused my to yelp. I spent several moments unwinding the tape from around my head and having to pick the sticky tape out of my bright red hair. I pulled the sopping wet handkerchief from my mouth and could now properly scream curses at my horrible sibling for putting me in this situation in the first place.

After finally regaining all my senses and my voice with the loss of my blindfold and gag, I then focused on untying the web of rope surrounding my torso. The thief had done an impressive job of harnessing my body to the pole. What took him minutes to tie took me three times as long to untie. I could have been frustrated at the slow pace of my escape, but I wasn’t. Simply being able to use my hands like a normal person to untie myself was exhilarating. Finally, I yanked the last length of black rope away from my body and it fell to the floor.

Next, I bent over and began untying the ropes around my thighs and knees. Undoing these simple knots were a breeze compared to what I’d been doing. But hanging my head almost completely upside down during all this made me dizzy and I had to stop and take breaks often.

Pretty soon, the only part of me tied to the pole were my ankles. I had to be extra careful at this point because loosing my balance and falling at this point meant a very painful faceplant into the floor without the mobility of my feet. I focused my efforts on the knot securing my ankles to the pole and within minutes I was able to move my bare feet away from the pole. I sat down on the floor and quickly untied my ankles, and had to take a moment to pick at the knotted string that bound my big toes together. But finally, at long last, I was completely free.

My body still ached all over. I had deep, red rope marks covering my body. My throat was dry and sore from the handkerchief that had absorbed every drop of saliva in my mouth. I struggled to stand as my legs felt like jelly. I stumbled my way towards the staircase, making no effort to pick up my dirty shoes and socks that had been strewn across the floor. I made my way upstairs, opened the door and squinted my eyes at the sight of bright sunshine streaming through the windows of my house. The clock on the wall confirmed it was after 9:00am in the morning. It dawned on me that I had just spent more than twelve hours bound and gagged as a prisoner in my own home.

But I had survived, and escaped, all on my own.

A million thoughts ran through my mind. I wanted to find my brother so I could yell at him for what he’d done. I wanted to make sure the house was secure and that I was safe from any more burglaries. I wanted to call my parents and tell them everything that happened. I needed to call the police and report what had been done to me and my home.

But I just couldn’t. After spending so many hours tied up, and many more escaping, I had absolutely no energy. I stumbled into my bedroom and flopped down on my twin bed, deliriously telling myself that I needed a short nap before assessing the situation. But sleep almost instantly overtook me. I was unconscious as soon as I laid down.

Suddenly I startled awake. Forgetting where I was or what had happened, I half expected to still be tied up. But no, I was in my own bed, still wearing my dirty school clothes from the previous day. I quickly sat up in bed upon hearing the muffled sound of voices coming from another part of the house. At first I was frightened. My last two human interactions had resulted in me being tied up beyond belief. But I remained fearless and crept towards the the door to my room. Opening it, I could hear several voices, one being the familiar tone of my older brother. I then heard the crackle of a radio and the jingling of handcuffs on a belt. The police were here.

It was now the evening, about 4:00pm. I had been so exhausted I’d slept almost the entire day. Apparently my brother had come home to find the house ransacked from the break in, and me... not tied up. I knew what he’d done. He had gone out partying all night with his friends, and decided to stay out all day Saturday too. That dumb “cops and robbers” game was just a ploy to get me out of his hair for a while, and probably payback for annoying him.

And now my hate for him was even stronger. I wanted to storm out of my room and scream at the top of my lungs at my brother. I wanted to tell the Cops everything. Maybe if they heard my story, they might even arrest my brother. A night or two in jail wasn’t even close to the amount of punishment he deserved.

As I placed my hand on the door handle, ready to yank it wide open, I stopped myself.

Could I really tell the Police the whole story?

Despite all the terrible things that had happened to me, both by my brother and that silent burglar, nothing could change the fact that I was the one that instigated all of this in the first place. I had become my brother’s willing captive just to get a thrill. Sure, my brother should have untied me like he was supposed to, but I let him tie me up in the first place.

Could I really tell the police that I had actually wanted to be tied up? They would think I was some weirdo.

What if my parents found out? What if my friends heard about it? What would they say?

The whole harrowing situation made me embarrassed. Ashamed. Humiliated.

As much as I wanted my brother and the burglar to pay for what they’d done, the shame of my predicament left me wanting to hide what had really happened.

Surely, the Cops wanted to question me about what happened. For a moment I wondered why they hadn’t come to question me already, but at the same time I realized they probably weren’t able to wake me up earlier.

I looked down at my arms and legs and noticed they still had obvious red marks all over them from the rope. That would surely draw questions that I didn’t want to answer.

I quickly stripped off my shirt, vest and skirt, dashed to my closet, and began rummaging through my clothes. After glancing in a mirror I noticed I even had rope marks on my neck, so I put on a pink turtleneck sweater to cover everything below my chin. I then put on a pair of black tights that covered my legs entirely. I then slipped on pair of mismatched socks, a light blue one and a bright green one.

As soon as I was dressed, as if on cue, one of the police officers knocked on my door, politely asking me to step outside my room. I went with him into the living room where my brother stood with two other officers. He gazed at me in amazement, obviously still shocked that not only had I escaped, but hadn’t been harmed by the burglar. He smiled, seemingly happy to see me, and maybe even partially regretting what he’d done to me. He glared at me, but I intentionally avoided making eye contact. I couldn’t verbally berate him right now, but I could give him the coldest shoulder possible.

When the officer began asking me questions my brother became visibly uncomfortable. Of course, he hadn’t told the truth to the Cops, and he was terrified that I would. But knowing that the facts would end up hurting both of us, I began to lie.

It was then that I realized what a great liar I was for the first time. I told an elaborate story, explaining that I’d had stayed up late playing videos games Friday night, that I was really tired and had simply slept through the burglary.

To my surprise, the Cops bought the story, even with my brother standing in the background with his jaw on the floor.

And that was the end of it. Once the Police left I locked myself in my room for the rest of the day. I had so many things I wanted to say to my brother, but I could never put my frustration into the proper words. I resigned to never speaking to him ever again, and I actually kept that promise... for a while.

The next day my parents came home. I said nothing more to them than I had to about the incident, and I desperately tried to forget it.

I was forced to wear long sleeve shirts and tights for a week or two until the rope marks went away. But even after they were gone, I knew the whole situation had left a permanent mark on my soul. I would never be the same again, and it would effect my entire life’s journey forever.

The rift between me and my brother would only grow wider afterward, and, in turn, my entire family suffered for it.

Eventually I would come to forgive him, but by then it was far too late. I was on a different path, perhaps a better one.

After that day I vowed to never be vulnerable again. To never give up. To always fight back.

To always escape.

[TightsBound]

Excellent chapter! I’ve really enjoyed this story so far. I hope we get to see more of her childhood reflections in future chapters, it’s great character development!

[BobaFettish1]

Thank you so much!

I too have enjoyed the flashbacks. I didn't initially plan this one to be as long as it turned out to be, but it ended up being an unexpected pleasure. I hope to fill in more of her origin story later on, because obviously much has happened to her between these two points.

But for now I'm looking forward to moving forward with the story. Chapter five is going to be a lot of fun, and a huge turning point for our distressed Agent. I can't wait for you guys to read it.

[TamatoaShiny123]

Thank you so much!

I too have enjoyed the flashbacks. I didn't initially plan this one to be as long as it turned out to be, but it ended up being an unexpected pleasure. I hope to fill in more of her origin story later on, because obviously much has happened to her between these two points.

But for now I'm looking forward to moving forward with the story. Chapter five is going to be a lot of fun, and a huge turning point for our distressed Agent. I can't wait for you guys to read it.

Can’t wait to read about this “turning point”!

[BobaFettish1]

I promise you, you're not gonna see this twist coming...

[Deleted User 2162]

I promise you, you're not gonna see this twist coming...

I’m glad! This has low key been one of the best DID stories I’ve read in a bit! Need to up my game! Wow!

[MaxRoper]

This is really good stuff. Well written and edited, believable characters and plots, and some excellent tie ups.

Write on!

[iliketights]

This is excellent. Being obsessed with tights as I am, I was pleased that she was forced to wear tights for a week or two to keep her rope marks hidden!

I am a little sad that the rift between our heroine and her brother became worse after this point of the story. Since she declined to rat out her brother to the cops, I was hoping he would do his best to make it up to her. I was looking forward to some brother-sister bondage, oh, excuse me, I meant BONDING. Perhaps he will someday beg her forgiveness and help her with her secret agent training.

I can't wait for future installments!

[BobaFettish1]

I am ecstatic to hear that all of you are enjoying Agent 38!! I’ve had a blast writing this story so far, and your kind words have made it the experience so much better!

I’m also glad to hear you guys were intrigued by the flashback sequence which, admittedly, turned out to be much bigger than I originally imagined. Furthermore, I love hearing your thoughts and speculation about our damsel and her brother. I’m keeping their relationship mysterious for now, but I hope I can work him into a upcoming story somehow. I have a lot of ideas for the future which I can’t wait to share.

Chapter five will be along soon, but in the meantime I want to once again leave you guys with a question:

What type of footwear do you like to see damsels wearing, especially while in bondage?

So far Agent 38 has worn:

- Brown leather over-the-knee boots
- Black & white saddle shoes with white knee-high socks
- Multicolored mismatched socks

What do you think she should wear in the future?

[MaxRoper]

Given the chance, I'll always vote for kneesocks.

[TamatoaShiny123]

Multicolored mismatched socks

[TightsBound]

I’m particularly in favor of tights and no shoes, but this story is great regardless of what she wears.

[Deleted User 2162]

I’m all for anything with a heel!

[iliketights]

[mention]TightsBound[/mention] wrote:

I’m particularly in favor of tights and no shoes, but this story is great regardless of what she wears.

As usual, Tightsbound and I are in complete agreement. I too vote for tights and no shoes (I love a heroine in knee socks too) but it's your story, so the final decision is yours!

[Solarbeast]

Anything having to do with leather and any type of boots are what I like.

[noggip]

Boots are so good, suede boots look killer when someone is wearing them bound.

[BobaFettish1]

Chapter Six: “These Boots Are Made For Bondage”
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Oh, wow. That was intense.

I do apologize for that extended edition of “Story time With Agent 38”. That was darker then I remembered, and made my teenage years look like utter crap. Which, it kinda was, but that’s not the point.

The thing is, I needed that, and I didn’t realize it until now. Earlier I let my emotions get the best of me. I’ve been tied up more times than I can count in the past, but my current predicament really got to me, just like the time I was I was a much younger woman tied up in my own basement. But back then I overcame my fear and escaped...

And I’m about to do it again.

Oh, and here’s a recap of my present day bondage situation for those of you just tuning in:

My arms are still anchored above my head, tied ridiculously tight at my wrists and elbows.

I’m seated in a sturdy chair that I’m securely bound to with rope across my chest, stomach and lap.

My ankles are individually pulled up and tied along the sides of the chair.

Oh, and I’ve still got a disgusting rag stuffed in my mouth, held in place by a bandanna and a handkerchief over my lips.

So, yeah, needless to say I haven’t really moved a muscle since waking up trussed up like this But I’m not content to sit here any longer.

I’ve been hearing movement outside the door to my cell which has me wondering if I should be expecting visitors. Surely my old boss hadn’t instructed his goons to lock me up in here if was just going to leave me here. He obviously thought I was still useful, otherwise I’d probably be dead by now. That gave me the advantage. They obviously would be convinced that I’d never be able to escape such impressive rope work.

I love surprising people, don’t you?

Once more, I gazed around at my immediate surroundings, seeing if there was anything that might be useful. Yeah, sure, it wasn’t like I could reach anything if I found what I was looking for, but a girl can dream, can’t she?

I thought back to my teenage days, remembering how I got out of ropes for the first time ever. While scissors or knives always came in handy when cutting through rope, sometimes all you need is something sharp and blunt, like that old rusty screwdriver...

Or my sharp stiletto heels.

Finally, it hit me.

The way my booted feet had been bound to the chair had seemed like an extreme disadvantage to me. With my ankles stretched back and tied to the back of the chair, my feet couldn’t even touch the floor. It put me in an incredibly helpless position... or so I thought.

With each of my feet tied hanging at the sides of the chair, that meant the sharp heels of my boots were pointing towards the back of the chair. With a simple pivoting of my ankles, and a shifting of my body weight in the chair, I was able to almost line up my spiky heel with the knotted rope at the back of the chair.

The very knot that kept my feet bound in place.

I now knew what I had to do. Without my hands I had very little leverage or strength, but I began leaning my body as far to the left as I could, with my torso still fully harnessed to the chair with ropes. I simultaneously brought my right foot back and up as far as I could, inching my heel slowly towards the knot. It took all of my strength just to move the tiniest bit, and the strain on my leg made it begin to cramp severely. I gritted my teeth and continued working through the pain.

A little more... a little further... just a little closer... and... boom! The stiletto heel of my right boot embedded itself into the knot. I smirked under my gag at my accomplishment, but I quickly snapped back into focus knowing I was only halfway there.

I was getting exhausted quickly as I strained to keep my body in the right position while I used the tip of my heel pick at the knot, hoping to weaken its tight grip on my ankle. I poked at several of the strands of rope tied to the chair, and finally they began to snag and even slightly tear. At last, I was able to hook my heel around one piece of rope and pulled as hard as I could. The strand of rope quickly slid out from the knot and hung below, being no more than a couple inches in length. Another small victory, but I couldn’t celebrate. I had much more work to do.

After several more minutes of struggling(which felt like hours), I was finally making progress. I had done significant damage to the knot, and several ends of the rope dangled free from the clump of frayed rope. Soon after, I could feel that it was much looser now. A little more picking and I was left with not much more than a tangled slipknot securing my leg to the chair.

I finally rested my body and shifted my foot back towards the floor. I now had much more slack and could place the entire sole of my brown boots flat on the floor. I then began softly tugging my right foot forward trying to get the knot to come loose. After only a few seconds of pulling I got impatient and began kicking my foot forward as hard as I could. With every kick my foot moved farther forward until...

One final yank and my foot flew all the way out in front of me, with a length of rope a couple feet long dragging behind it. I was free!... Well, partially. With my hands and left foot still tightly tied, I wasn’t getting out of this yet, but being able to move my left foot freely was a wonderful feeling. Even with the a length of rope still tied off and dangling from my ankle, I was able to swing my foot around and bend my knee in attempt to get the blood flowing again.

I took a good look at my over-the-knee boots. On top of being dirty and scuffed up, the brown leather was kinked up and cracked under the tight rope still tied around my ankle.

If my boots were ruined in this fiasco, I was seriously going to have to hurt someone.

Now that I’d developed a successful process of untying my feet, I figured it was time to begin working on the ropes on my left side.

My long red hair, formerly in a poorly constructed bun on my head, was now completely free, flowing down around my shoulders, and annoyingly across my face. I whipped my head back the best I could to get the strands of hair out of my face, then craned my neck down to look at my left foot.

I began repositioning my body the best I could and hoisting my bound and booted foot up towards the knot keeping it secured to the chair. I had to strain even harder this time, putting every last ounce of my strength into getting my heel towards the knot. I finally got it where it needed to be and began picking at the knot with my other stiletto heel. After only a few minutes of work my left foot was also free to move about.

I was getting the hang of this.

Even with my arms still strictly bound above my head, being able to stretch out both my legs like a normal person was a pleasure I would never take for granted again. But before I could get too comfortable with my progress, I heard more noise outside the door.

I was going to have company. And I’d prefer to be able to defend myself when my visitors arrive. I was sure the goons would take great pleasure in retying my legs in another frustrating position. And it would be easy for them given the lengths of loose rope still tied around each of my ankles.

I took another look around the room. Without my emotions clouding my vision, I began to notice things I hadn’t before. For one, the walls of my makeshift cell weren’t concrete as I’d first thought, but were actually a dirty grey metal. The shelves that were placed against the walls held a somewhat strange collection of materials; some lengths of heavy metal chains, a long knife in a leather sheath, a pair of rubber boots, some military food rations, a scuba tank and mask, and several coils of rope(probably the same type used to tie me up).

If I stretched out my right leg I could maybe tap the edge of the shelf with the toe of my boot. That knife would come in really handy right now, but reaching it would be impossible.

Just then, I heard a loud clang coming from directly in front of me. The door to my cell shuddered and began to slowly open inward.

I held my breath.

I mean, yeah, I’ve faced off with plenty of bad guys before, but my arms aren’t usually tied to a beam above my head. I needed more time prepare myself for whoever or whatever was about to walk through that door. But I only had seconds.

As an Agent I was trained to make the best of any situation. To make use of any tools or weapons at my disposal. But didn’t have any weapons, nor the hands to use them.

I swung my legs back around the sides of the chair in their original positions to sell the illusion that they were still fully bound. I tensed as two shadowy figures appeared in the doorway. They stepped into the room and walked towards me. One of them was a tall and muscular dark-skinned man who carried an AK-47 in his arms. The other figure was a smaller, light-skinned female who had a pistol in a holster on her hip and carried a... machete? That’s interesting.

They both sauntered up to my chair and stood on either side of me, obviously trying to be as menacing as possible.

The man spoke first in a heavy Italian accent;

“The boss has been worried that you might have found a way to escape by now...”

“And we’re here to make sure you stay tied up good and tight,” the woman finished, in a similarly accented voice.

She then stepped over to the shelf and grabbed one of the coils of rope. Following her lead, the man grabbed something from behind his back; a bundle of thick plastic zip ties.

Under my gag I let out and a long, exasperated, “Mmmppph,” which roughly translates to;

“Here’s where the fun begins.”

[TightsBound]

God I love this story

[Deleted User 2162]

Just wow. Write a book - I’ll buy three copies.

[BobaFettish1]

Thanks guys!! So glad you’re enjoying it!

I’ve tried to not make a habit of splitting chapters into parts, but I thought this was the perfect cliffhanger to end on... for now.

Part two is going be crazy. I can’t wait for you guys tickets read it!

[Caesar73]

This cliffhanger is a mean one Please go on Good work!

[Solarbeast]

I'm really loving this story so far and I can't wait to read what happens next. Whether they will find out that she has already partially escaped or that they will somehow miss it. Also, will she be able to escape again after their additions and whether they will be making additions continuously until the boss comes back?

[BobaFettish1]

Chapter Seven: “Out Of The Blue”
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I made no sudden moves. I still had to play the part of a helpless hostage for at least a couple more seconds.

I had to draw them in and do my thing at exactly the right moment.

Too early, and my effectiveness is severely undermined and I end up being tied up even more than I am already.

Too late? Again, more bondage.

You get the picture. This was no time for mistakes. My last faux pas landed me in this position in the first place. Never again.

At least not today.

I took a second to admire my visitors and take note of the finer details.

I noticed that the man had dark brown skin and trimmed dark hair. He was tall, and had obviously done A LOT of body building. He wore blue and grey camouflage from head to toe, starting with a tight-fitting shirt, trousers, and a pair of matching standard-issue lace up combat boots.

I do like a man in uniform.

The shorter, petite woman was fair skinned with long blonde hair that was contained in a ponytail that flowed down the back of her neck. She wore drab navy blue coveralls that were baggy and appeared to be a couple sizes too large. It covered her entire body, save for her feet, hands and neck. She wore black gloves and her shoes appeared to be some type of black leather boots with a rounded toe. She also wore a red and white bandanna around her neck and a black baseball cap on her head.

And at this point I was almost disgusted. I mean, the girl herself is adorable, but those clothes? Really girl? You can do better than that. I realize you’re just trying to do your job, but can’t you at least try to look good while you’re doing it? I mean, look at me! You can be sexy as hell and still get the job done.

I also noticed that both their guns had silencers attached their muzzles. I had assumed their mission was to keep me alive, and tied up, but perhaps a silent execution was also on the cards? I had to be ready for anything.

The man stepped forward, letting the shoulder strapped rifle fall to his side as he clutched the zip ties with both hands. A smirk spread across his stupid face. I imagined it was him that had trussed me up like this earlier while I was out cold. Now he was looking forward to tying me up even tighter than to ensure my escape would be impossible.

Oh. Hell. No.

Once I had the dude right where I wanted him, I struck... between his legs.

I swung my unbound left foot up as hard and as fast as I could until it slammed into the man’s crotch. I heard a loud crack and the man’s face immediately turned red. Hunched over in pain, he stumbled to the side and fell to the ground with a whimper. He wasn’t unconscious, but walking(and reproducing) would be difficult for him for a while.

I almost felt sorry for the guy... Almost.

The woman watched all of this happen in the span of 2 seconds and remained in stunned silence after her partner had hit the ground. Apart from my foot, I hadn’t moved an inch and had barely cocked my head to admire my handiwork. I then pivoted my head to gaze at her. Even under my gag, she had to know I was grinning ear-to-ear.

The reality of the situation finally set in and the woman prepared to have a go at me. But instead of using the coil of rope, perhaps to try and wrangle my dangerous left leg, she tossed it down and gripped her machete tightly.

Finally, more fighting and less bondage.

She raced towards me, machete rising over her head to strike me. Just as she got close enough, I raised my right foot and swung it up to meet her stomach. All of her body weight landed on the sole of my boot, and my stilletto heel dug into her belly. I used all my strength to hold back her momentum and kick her away. Caught off guard, she didn’t even have a chance to swing her machete in my direction. My kick sent her tumbling backwards and she violently slammed into one of the shelves.

For a moment I thought I might have actually knocked her out on the first try, but soon she was struggling to get back on her feet. She used the shelf to pull herself to her full height, all the while still having a death grip on her machete. Simultaneously we both looked in the direction of her fallen comrade, who, unsurprisingly, was still fallen. He moaned and clutched his crotch as he lay in the fetal position on the floor. My eyes met the woman’s again.

Looks like it’s still just you and me, girl.

If she was smart she would call for backup. Or draw her gun. Or try wake up her partner. But no.

On top of having no fashion sense, this lady was dumb when it came to fight strategy too.

She grasped the the machete tighter and ran towards me. I watched her, as if in slow motion, as she came closer and closer to me with the sharp sword raised. She brought it down in a trajectory that would no doubt line up with my forehead. (I guess she had forgotten her orders to keep me alive.) I used my hands to grip the rope securing me to the beam above. Then, at the last possible second...

I grabbed the rope and lifted myself, chair and all, up off the floor. Using my untied legs to help support my weight, I swung the chair, and my body with it, completely around 180 degrees. Being that there was still several lengths of rope securing my torso and upper thighs to the chair, my body was still mostly plastered to the chair. For the first time in too long, I was actually standing on my own, albeit in a hunched position carrying a heavy chair on my back. The woman didn’t have time to adjust her attack to my new position, and instead of slicing my head open with the machete, she impaled it in the back of the chair. The sword struck hard and drove deep into the wood... and also hit something else.

Just then, all of the ropes around my chest and midsection fell off me. The blow from the machete hadn’t just cut the chair, it had severed almost all of the ropes that pinned me to the chair.

The foolish girl, who had originally come to tie me up further, had unwittingly been the one to almost complete untie me.

And it gets better.

Apparently her machete had done even more damage than I imagined. Not only had it cut through the ropes, but it had also several damaged the chair. I heard a loud creak and a shudder, then the entire chair nearly split in half and fell to the ground in a collection of separate pieces.

Apparently the chair wasn’t as sturdy as I thought.

What few ropes that were left attaching me to the chair had fallen to the floor with the busted up chair.

Finally, I could move move (mostly) freely without the chair dragging me down. My wrists and elbows were still tied together above my head, and there was still loose rope hanging from both my ankles. But I could now stand at my full height, completely unhindered.

The woman once again gawked at me, obviously stunned that for the second time she’d lost a fight to someone that was tied to a chair.

WAS tied to a chair.

Using my bound and anchored arms to my advantage, I lifted myself up and swung both my feet in her direction. My right foot met her machete wielding hand and the weapon went flying out of her grip and across the room. My left foot caught her jaw and sent her tumbling to the ground, dazed but still conscious.

I remained focused on her, so much so that I almost missed her camo-clad friend finally making it to his feet and pointing his AK-47 directly at my head. I quickly focused my attack on him, just as he squeezed the trigger. I used my right foot to kick the barrel of the gun upward towards the ceiling. Just as I did, he unloaded several rounds that were meant for me, but ended up going over my head and into the ceiling. Bullets ricocheted off the metal surfaces all around us and both my attackers ducked and covered their heads trying to avoid the stray bullets.

I, of course, had no way of taking cover, being still tied to the beam above my head. I instinctively put my head down and felt a few bullets wiz past my head, but miraculously I wasn’t hit.

But something had changed.

Suddenly, I seemed to have much more slack from the rope connected to my wrists. And then, to my utter disbelief, I was able to pull my wrists all the way down around my chest. I glanced at my still bound wrists and elbows, puzzled. I then glanced up to the beam where one length of rope hung, it’s end frayed and broken.

It finally dawned on me.

One of the stray bullets from the AK had unbelievably managed to hit the rope between my hands and the beam, completely severing it.

I was free.

The two goons finally realized what had happened and prepared for another attack. This time they were going to avoid getting up close and personal with me, and instead drew their guns. Like lighting I bounded across the room towards the man, who had managed to draw his rifle just a second or two before his partner drew hers. I even surprised myself with my agility, and before I knew it was right in his face. I balled my hands (which were still tied together) into tight fists and slammed both of them into his abdomen, taking the wind of him. I then head butted him, throwing his head backwards. He went down again, this time flat on his back, and he wasn’t getting up this time.

I quickly turned my attention to the woman who was now directly behind me with her pistol pointed at my head.

“Freeze!”, she yelled with a shaky, accented voice. Her hands shivered with fear. She had obviously never been in a fight before, and her overall performance in attempting to subdue me had proven it.

I complied with her order, but only for a moment. I knew she wasn’t planning on taking me alive, and I wasn’t just going to stand here and wait for her to shoot me.

As soon as I heard the gun cock, I pushed myself to the floor. Just as I did, she pulled the trigger and another round blew through my loose red hair, just above my head. I tucked my knees to my chest and fell into roll, throwing myself in her direction. I was barely able to get to my feet just as I slammed into her, knocking the gun from her hand and tossing the woman backwards. As she fell, she grabbed the rope dangling from my bound arms and yanked me down with her. I landed directly on top of of her and a struggle began. Using one hand to clutch the rope, she attempted to use the rope around my wrists and elbows to restrain me long enough to get use her other hand to get a weapon.

She had already proven she couldn’t outsmart me, and she certainly wouldn’t be able to overpower me.

She frantically reached in the direction of her pistol and managed to get her fingers around the handle. She quickly drew it up between us, pointing it directly at my throat. She smiled, pulled the trigger... and nothing happened.

The henchwoman had failed to realize that the clip for her pistol had completely fallen out of the gun when I had knocked it from her grip earlier. It was useless.

I was kneeling over the woman, straddling her body and pinning her to the ground. I looked down at her and wanted to say something witty, but forgot I was till wearing my gag.

I quickly ripped off the handkerchief on my face, pulled the bandanna out from between my teeth and spit out the sopping wet rag in mouth.

“What was it that you were saying about tying me up ‘Nice and tight’?", I sneered

She hissed back;

“There is no escape for you. You’ll never make it off-“

I cut her off;

“Yet I literally just escaped. You helped me, remember?”

The woman laughed;

“You really think you are free? I can’t wait to see you in chains when-“

One punch was all she needed. The woman was out cold, and thank God for it. I couldn’t take any more of her bad guy... err, bad girl monologuing.

Despite not buying into her scare tactics, she wasn’t completely wrong. I wasn’t out of this yet. Despite fighting for my life, and winning, I was still partially tied up. I sat on the floor for a moment, untying the rope around one of my ankles and struggling to get my wrists and elbows untied. I would need time to work on them, and right now time was a precious commodity.

Untied or not, I had to get out of here. It was only a matter of time before the boss came looking for the goons he’d sent to “secure” me earlier. I didn’t want to be around when he got here.

Without my adrenaline pumping it was actually hard for me to walk. All of the fighting and struggling had left me exhausted, and I stumbled my way towards the doorway. For the first time I noticed that it was a rounded doorway with a small metallic wheel in the center of it. It wasn’t just a door, it was a hatch.

So instead of a basement or storeroom like I originally thought, these mob goons had locked me away in some sort of bunker? Fallout shelter? Whatever. My only concern was getting out of this hell hole.

I pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold, being careful not to trip or stumble. All of the rope that had encased my body, and the ensuing fight, had left my extremities feeling like jelly. My lack of energy made me feel drunk, and my arms being tied together meant I couldn’t balance myself properly.

But I’d just defeated two vicious henchman of one of the most notorious mobsters in the world while tied up... I think I can manage a little stroll.

Outside the door was a long hallway stretching several yards in both directions. The walls were the same grey color as inside my cell, and they were mostly bare, aside from the occasional fire extinguisher or ax hung up for emergencies. I wandered down the hallway and saw nothing but more adjacent hallways. Fortunately no one was in said hallways, because I wasn’t in the mood to knock someone else out cold.

Finally, I heard a faint noise that sounded like the crashing of waves on a shore. That had to be an escape route to the outside. Perhaps I’d been taken somewhere near the water, a dock perhaps. I had never been able to visit any of my old boss’ dock installations, so that would explain my unfamiliarity with this location.

I followed the noise down a hallway and up to a metal ladder the went up through a hatch in the ceiling. It figures that I’d be underground, but couldn’t they afford a staircase? Climbing a ladder with tied hands was going to be difficult to say the least, but I wasn’t about to let a ladder stand between me and freedom.

Slowly and steadily I found a way to make my way up the ladder. My boots clanked on the rungs of the ladder, and a piece of rope still dangled from one of my ankles.

After another tiring struggle, I made it to the next floor. Hopping to my feet, I could finally see it; the doorway out. I half-ran towards the hatch at the peril of possibly tripping and falling flat on my face. I could now see that it was the evening and the sun was setting. I could feel the cool breeze, I could see the water, I could taste the freedom.

I jogged through the doorway and out into the open air, but I wasn’t prepared for what greeted me.

Yes, there was water. Lots of water. As far as my eyes could see... there was nothing but water.

As I stared out into the blue, I noticed the water was moving rapidly to the right.

No... I was moving to the left.

Or, more accurately, WE were moving.

This wasn’t a basement, or a dungeon, or a bunker... it was a ship... in the middle of the ocean, with no land in sight.

All of the struggling.

All of the escaping.

All of the fighting.

And I still ended up just as trapped as ever.

[Deleted User 2162]

Wow! Talk about a twist! I won’t spoil it for others but at this point I can’t wait to see where you go next!

[Caesar73]

Great stuff! The fighting sequence s? Just awesome!