Agent 38: A DID Spy Thriller (Various)
Amazing story!! Would love to see her socks play a role into it 
Just a college student who loves socks, rope, and duct tape!
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Solarbeast
- Moderator
- Posts: 1136
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Florida
I'm always fine with what the author decides to use for the story, but since you are asking us I would say that the item that best fits the story here that I would like to see used in the story is metal. Either cuffs, chains, or some sort of other metal type restraint. I am also a fan of mummification with sleeping bags, but I don't see a way that those would fit the story very well.
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BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 121
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
- Contact:
Hey guys!
I just wanted to let you know that chapter eleven is now available to read! I just posted over on my DeviantArt page, and it will be posted here soon as well.
You can find it here: https://www.deviantart.com/bobafettish1 ... -786290072
And if you need something to entice you, here's a brief excerpt from this latest chapter:
Without warning, I suddenly felt a presence behind me. Before I could even turn to acknowledge them, a large and powerful hand came from behind my head and clamped down hard over my mouth. The handgagging caught me completely off guard, and for a brief second I lost my steely composure, gasping and squealing in muffled terror.
“Going somewhere, sweetheart?” Rizzo taunted, speaking the words right into my ear.
He quickly used his other hand to cradle the back of my head, pinning my skull between his two powerful hands. With even the slightest hand gesture Rizzo could easily break my neck. Fighting back wasn’t an option when someone literally held your life in their hands.
In that single moment I once again became that frightened young girl from my past once again. A terrified hostage at the mercy of my captor. A single tear ran down my cheek, a reminder of the soul crushing fear that was buried deep down inside me.
I just wanted to let you know that chapter eleven is now available to read! I just posted over on my DeviantArt page, and it will be posted here soon as well.
You can find it here: https://www.deviantart.com/bobafettish1 ... -786290072
And if you need something to entice you, here's a brief excerpt from this latest chapter:
Without warning, I suddenly felt a presence behind me. Before I could even turn to acknowledge them, a large and powerful hand came from behind my head and clamped down hard over my mouth. The handgagging caught me completely off guard, and for a brief second I lost my steely composure, gasping and squealing in muffled terror.
“Going somewhere, sweetheart?” Rizzo taunted, speaking the words right into my ear.
He quickly used his other hand to cradle the back of my head, pinning my skull between his two powerful hands. With even the slightest hand gesture Rizzo could easily break my neck. Fighting back wasn’t an option when someone literally held your life in their hands.
In that single moment I once again became that frightened young girl from my past once again. A terrified hostage at the mercy of my captor. A single tear ran down my cheek, a reminder of the soul crushing fear that was buried deep down inside me.
-
BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 121
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
- Contact:
Chapter Eleven: “A Sticky Situation”
_______________________________________
I drifted in and out consciousness for what seemed like forever. I had the worst headache ever, it hurt to breathe, my legs felt like jelly and they ignored all of my mental commands to move. I was now lying on the floor, face up. This wasn’t where I originally landed. Rizzo had moved me here at some point, and I could still feel his hands on my body. The thought of the man touching me and being helpless to fight back sickened me even more than I already was.
While still in a hazy limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness, I tried to get my mind off what Rizzo was doing by making a mental note of my injuries. Multiple concussions, a broken rib or two, lacerations across my body, torn ligaments... I could probably spend all night guessing the sources of this almost unbearable pain. I’m no nurse, but I’ve been in plenty of fights, most of which resulted in at least a few wounds. A self diagnosis while trying to patch yourself up in the field is just part of the job, and you get better at it with experience. Unfortunately today I wouldn’t be able to put that experience to the test. I simply didn’t have the strength to tend to my injuries at the moment, and I knew Rizzo, whom had given me these bruises, wasn’t interested in helping either.
I started to notice that I felt much colder now and more... exposed. I suddenly realized I was now missing most of my clothes. I snapped awake and saw that Rizzo had removed my stolen navy blue coveralls, dark blue skinny jeans, my black ankle boots, and even my white socks. I was left lying on the floor wearing only my white lacy halter top and white panties... almost naked.
I began to squirm, struggling to get my arms to work and push myself up. I finally managed to get my elbows up underneath me and I sat up on the floor. I began to examine my surroundings and noticed my clothes had been thrown into a pile against the wall several feet away, and my would be captor was now nowhere in sight. My instincts told me to get up, grab my clothes and run out of the kitchen as fast as I could. But I knew it was a nearly impossible plan in my condition.
Still, I strained my arms attempting to lift myself off the floor, but I couldn’t move. Between the lack of strength in my arms and numbness of feet, it felt like my legs had been nailed to the floor.
I had to rest. Given some time I knew I would recover enough to be able to stand... but I didn’t have time. The ship was bound to reach Rio De Janeiro in a matter of hours, and I had a laundry list of things to do before that happened. The stakes have never been higher, and the odds have never been more stacked against me. Yet here I was, not (yet) tied up, but equally powerless to do what had to be done. I still stubbornly struggled to get on my feet.
Without warning, I suddenly felt a presence behind me. Before I could even turn to acknowledge them, a large and powerful hand came from behind my head and clamped down hard over my mouth. The handgagging caught me completely off guard, and for a brief second I lost my steely composure, gasping and squealing in muffled terror.
“Going somewhere, sweetheart?” Rizzo taunted, speaking the words right into my ear.
He quickly used his other hand to cradle the back of my head, pinning my skull between his two powerful hands. With even the slightest hand gesture Rizzo could easily break my neck. Fighting back wasn’t an option when someone literally held your life in their hands.
In that single moment I once again became that frightened young girl from my past once again. A terrified hostage at the mercy of my captor. A single tear ran down my cheek, a reminder of the soul crushing fear that was buried deep down inside me.
But this wasn’t me now. I was better than this, and I wasn’t about to allow that fear to control me again. I was the one who was in control.
I calmed myself, focusing deep within myself I channeled that fear into... anger, and... determination
Using all the strength I had left, I shot my fist out in the direction of his head. Despite my severe lack of bodily coordination, I managed hit him in the side of the face. And again, the blow didn’t phase him, and I wasn’t expecting it to. But it felt good, and it was just what I needed. It also doubled as a warning to the creep, a nonverbal way to say “Get your damn hands off me!” He seemed to understand my protest, loosening his grip on my head, but he had a message of his own to send me.
He quickly snatched my hand and yanked it out behind me, twisting it to an extremely unnatural and painful position.
“Struggle again and I start breaking your bones, starting with the smallest ones.” He threatened.
Just then he grabbed my pinky finger and pulled it back so far I heard it cracking. I winced in agony and almost screamed. Rizzo then pulled his face close to mine.
“Are we clear?” He asked, his tone more serious than I’d heard him before.
Even with my mouth now uncovered, I said nothing, only giving a faint nod of my head. He let go of me and I nearly fell over, relieved of the pain but still very weak. He again grabbed me, this time more gently, and steadied me while still seated.
Rizzo then grabbed the roll of duct tape and I was immediately filled with an immense sense of dread. I then realized why the douche bag had removed my clothes. Not only was it a way to humiliate me, but it also meant the sticky strips would adhere to my light colored skin much tighter and stricter.
Oh, and did I mention that duct tape on bare skin is EXTREMELY painful?
That fact alone, I guessed, was main reason for my unconsented stripping.
Rizzo whisked both my hands behind my back, crossing them at the wrists, and began applying the tape. He wound the silver substance around my hands countless times, crisscrossing my wrists vertically as well as horizontally. When he was finished, the sticky bindings kept my arms locked in place behind me. Duct tape was normally fairly simple to escape from, but Rizzo’s handiwork felt unbreakable.
Seeming satisfied I wouldn’t be able to punch him anymore, Rizzo moved down towards my legs, obviously preparing to encase them in tape as well. As he knelt down next to me I noticed a pool of blood near where he stood. At first I thought it might have been my blood, but I had not sustained any injuries severe enough to cause that much bleeding(that I knew of). A closer look at Rizzo revealed he was indeed the source of the blood. I noticed that his white shirt was no longer white at all, but was almost completely red, stained with his own blood. I was sorta surprised to see that some of my gunshots had indeed hit their intended target. Eying him closely, I could see three clear bullet holes; one in his shoulder, one in his abdomen, and one in his thigh.
One shot was enough to put even the strongest man or woman down on the ground. Three could kill someone instantly. But, yet, Rizzo was still on his feet, more interested in taping me up than taping up the holes in his body.
I was finally comfortable and curious enough to break the awkward silence.
“How... are you still alive?” I asked.
Rizzo, who had crossed my ankles and had began wrapping strips of duct tape around them, stopped what he was doing and looked at me. He gave a puzzling look, as if it was the dumbest question he’d ever heard, but said nothing. I continued:
“I mean, I shot you at least three times. And, yet, you still kicked my ass... and tied me up. I just can’t help but be a little...”, I searched for the word. “Impressed.” I finally said.
Rizzo, now finished tightly binding my ankles, stared blankly at me.
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“Try me.” I retorted, finally mustering a smile.
He began;
“It’s an experimental drug. I’ve heard they call it “The Superman”. Gives you enhanced agility, improved strength, dulls pain receptors, and quickens healing.”
I made a mental note of everything he was telling me. A miracle drug that gave someone literal superpowers was something I’d heard rumors about for years but never seen for myself. Hearing (and feeling it) first hand was a bit of a shock, but my poker face held. I was done playing the victim and wanted to have some fun. When he was finished I replied:
“So, you’re telling me you took a drug called “The Superman” and it doesn’t even make you bullet proof? I mean, c’mon. “The Wolverine” would have been a more accurate title.” I trailed off and Rizzo just glared at me, obviously becoming more and more annoyed.
“Oh, sorry, I got a little nerdy there,” I finally said, just as Rizzo rolled his eyes. “Please, do go on.”
“You already know more than you should. I’m the one who should be doing the interrogating here.”
“Interrogation? Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Can’t a helpless damsel in distress make a little small talk with her captor? Say, is this “Superman” stuff one of the drugs being stockpiled in the cargo holds?”
Rizzo, who was now binding my knees with tape, snapped his gaze towards me.
“How do you know what’s in the cargo holds?”
“Um, hello? You’re talking to a secret agent. Snooping around is kinda my job. It would be lame if I didn’t know.”
Rizzo was getting frustrated:
“Is that where you got the explosives from? What are you planning?”
Rizzo gestured to some explosive charges sitting on a counter on the other side of the room. They were the ones I’d stolen earlier, and he had confiscated when he stole my clothes.
“Planning?”, I shot back with a chuckle. “I have lots of plans... or HAD lots of plans. It’s too bad you tied me up. It’s not like I’m going to be able escape... again.”
“Alright, that’s it.” Rizzo said furiously. He reached for something laying on the floor near him, and I instantly recognized it as one of my lost white socks. It was obviously dirty and worn, having been on my booted feet for an extended amount of time.
I cringed, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it.
“C’mon, man! We were having such a great chat! I thought we were really... Mmmpphh!”
Rizzo balled up the smelly sock and stuffed it into my mouth. Packing the gag tightly between my cheeks, he then applied duct tape over my mouth and began wrapping strips around my head. After making at least a half-dozen passes he finally stopped, patting down the tape over my mouth.
I was relieved to notice that he was almost out of tape, having used almost all of it on my wrists, legs and gag. But apparently he was hellbent on using every last bit of the stuff.
He then started applying some duct tape to my chest, wrapping several strips around my entire body. Two wrappings of tape, several strips thick, encircled my arms and chest, above and below my breasts. The last of the tape kept my bare arms secured to my sides, with my hands still firmly bound behind my back.
Once he stepped away from me I noticed the full extent of the tape on my legs. A thick wrapping of tape kept my ankles stuck together, while he had applied a ridiculous amount of tape to my shins, above & below my knees, and also to my thighs.
And I should emphasize that my legs are still completely bare, making any movement or struggling excruciatingly painful. And if I happen to be able to escape this newest bondage predicament and start removing the tape... let’s just say I won’t have to shave my legs for a while.
Rizzo looked down at me, still agitated by my earlier annoyance, but also somewhat satisfied by my extreme discomfort.
“Oh, how the mighty Agent 38 has fallen.”
Unable to provide anymore quips to undermine his confidence, I simply rolled my eyes and let out the most condescending “Mmpphh” I could manage.
“Sorry, I’m all outta tape, sweetheart. I’ll have to bring back some ropes and chains to make sure you don’t go escaping again and causing the boss any more trouble.”
He wandered over to the pile of clothes he’d stripped from me, picking them up.
“You didn’t want these back did you?”
He walked over to a small door on the wall that was labeled “incinerator” and pushed the clothes through.
“Oops.” He said as my former attire tumbled down the chute.
I gave no reaction, not giving him the satisfaction, all the while knowing that if I got out of this I’d have to complete my mission half-naked.
Rizzo continued on monologuing about his evil plan, and I finally began to take notice my surroundings. I realized that Rizzo had moved me away from the refrigerator where my beatdown took place and I was now lying on the floor next to a large shelf.
The same large shelf that my pistol had slid under earlier.
Rizzo finally finished:
“...The boss will be down to visit you shortly. And I hope you’ll be in the mood to chat, ‘cause I’m sure he has lots of questions for you.”
He finally turned away, walking towards another hatchway that stood on the opposite end of the kitchen from the hatch that I’d shoved him through not that long ago. As he walked away he grabbed the explosive charges that were sitting on the counter.
“Oh, and I suppose I’ll put these back where you found them, since you won’t be needing them anymore.”
Rizzo strolled away. I would only have one shot at this(quite literally).
I laid back on the floor and used my bound wrists to help me roll across the cold floor. I ended up throwing myself against the shelf, putting my hands in the perfect position to reach under it with my bound hands. With my arms taped to my sides, I had a limited range of movement, but it was enough. I stretched my arms as far as I could, blindly feeling under the shelf for the pistol. All the while I watched as Rizzo drew closer to the door. Finally, I felt something metal, and grabbed it, being careful not to pull the trigger and shoot myself. Thankfully I had it by the muzzle and quickly dragged the pistol out from under the dusty shelf. Placing the gun in one of my hands, carefully touching the trigger the with my finger, I struggled to sit up on the floor. Rizzo was just seconds away from exiting the kitchen, and alerting the entire ship to my presence. I craned my arms as far as I could around to my side, scooting my body on the floor trying to position myself for the best shot possible. Rizzo was in the doorway, and I was aiming for his head. I would not miss this time, even with both my arms tied behind my back.
Rizzo stepped through doorway, ready to turn down the hallway.
I lined up the shot perfectly, my trigger finger twitching with anticipation.
And then... Rizzo stumbled.
In a display that made me almost laugh out loud under my tape gag, the man tripped on something invisible in the doorway and lost his balance. Completely caught by surprise, with his legs ensnared by an unseen trap, the man began to fall quickly. He attempted to get his feet up under him, but it only turned his fall into an even faster running tumble. Instead of landing on the floor, he was sent crashing into the metal bulkhead on the other side of the hallway.
A loud clang marked the moment when his skull finally met the bulkhead.
Within a second Rizzo on the floor in a heap. After several seconds there still was no movement and this time it looked like he was really out cold for good. If he was play acting, he sure was taking his time. And trying to fool who exactly?
Rizzo’s tumble had made me completely forget the fact that I was just trying to shoot him in the back of the head a moment earlier. And it also distracted me from asking some important questions; like what exactly did he trip on? And how did THAT knock him out, after I’d tried repeatedly do the same with more violent means.
And I was hit with a slew of other questions when a lone figure appeared in the doorway in front of Rizzo.
It was a woman. Wearing knee high boots, black tights, and a black & white stripped dress, she stood heroically in the hatchway with a huge smile on her face.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was... Sara?
“Hi, Agent 38! I’m here to rescue you!”
_______________________________________
I drifted in and out consciousness for what seemed like forever. I had the worst headache ever, it hurt to breathe, my legs felt like jelly and they ignored all of my mental commands to move. I was now lying on the floor, face up. This wasn’t where I originally landed. Rizzo had moved me here at some point, and I could still feel his hands on my body. The thought of the man touching me and being helpless to fight back sickened me even more than I already was.
While still in a hazy limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness, I tried to get my mind off what Rizzo was doing by making a mental note of my injuries. Multiple concussions, a broken rib or two, lacerations across my body, torn ligaments... I could probably spend all night guessing the sources of this almost unbearable pain. I’m no nurse, but I’ve been in plenty of fights, most of which resulted in at least a few wounds. A self diagnosis while trying to patch yourself up in the field is just part of the job, and you get better at it with experience. Unfortunately today I wouldn’t be able to put that experience to the test. I simply didn’t have the strength to tend to my injuries at the moment, and I knew Rizzo, whom had given me these bruises, wasn’t interested in helping either.
I started to notice that I felt much colder now and more... exposed. I suddenly realized I was now missing most of my clothes. I snapped awake and saw that Rizzo had removed my stolen navy blue coveralls, dark blue skinny jeans, my black ankle boots, and even my white socks. I was left lying on the floor wearing only my white lacy halter top and white panties... almost naked.
I began to squirm, struggling to get my arms to work and push myself up. I finally managed to get my elbows up underneath me and I sat up on the floor. I began to examine my surroundings and noticed my clothes had been thrown into a pile against the wall several feet away, and my would be captor was now nowhere in sight. My instincts told me to get up, grab my clothes and run out of the kitchen as fast as I could. But I knew it was a nearly impossible plan in my condition.
Still, I strained my arms attempting to lift myself off the floor, but I couldn’t move. Between the lack of strength in my arms and numbness of feet, it felt like my legs had been nailed to the floor.
I had to rest. Given some time I knew I would recover enough to be able to stand... but I didn’t have time. The ship was bound to reach Rio De Janeiro in a matter of hours, and I had a laundry list of things to do before that happened. The stakes have never been higher, and the odds have never been more stacked against me. Yet here I was, not (yet) tied up, but equally powerless to do what had to be done. I still stubbornly struggled to get on my feet.
Without warning, I suddenly felt a presence behind me. Before I could even turn to acknowledge them, a large and powerful hand came from behind my head and clamped down hard over my mouth. The handgagging caught me completely off guard, and for a brief second I lost my steely composure, gasping and squealing in muffled terror.
“Going somewhere, sweetheart?” Rizzo taunted, speaking the words right into my ear.
He quickly used his other hand to cradle the back of my head, pinning my skull between his two powerful hands. With even the slightest hand gesture Rizzo could easily break my neck. Fighting back wasn’t an option when someone literally held your life in their hands.
In that single moment I once again became that frightened young girl from my past once again. A terrified hostage at the mercy of my captor. A single tear ran down my cheek, a reminder of the soul crushing fear that was buried deep down inside me.
But this wasn’t me now. I was better than this, and I wasn’t about to allow that fear to control me again. I was the one who was in control.
I calmed myself, focusing deep within myself I channeled that fear into... anger, and... determination
Using all the strength I had left, I shot my fist out in the direction of his head. Despite my severe lack of bodily coordination, I managed hit him in the side of the face. And again, the blow didn’t phase him, and I wasn’t expecting it to. But it felt good, and it was just what I needed. It also doubled as a warning to the creep, a nonverbal way to say “Get your damn hands off me!” He seemed to understand my protest, loosening his grip on my head, but he had a message of his own to send me.
He quickly snatched my hand and yanked it out behind me, twisting it to an extremely unnatural and painful position.
“Struggle again and I start breaking your bones, starting with the smallest ones.” He threatened.
Just then he grabbed my pinky finger and pulled it back so far I heard it cracking. I winced in agony and almost screamed. Rizzo then pulled his face close to mine.
“Are we clear?” He asked, his tone more serious than I’d heard him before.
Even with my mouth now uncovered, I said nothing, only giving a faint nod of my head. He let go of me and I nearly fell over, relieved of the pain but still very weak. He again grabbed me, this time more gently, and steadied me while still seated.
Rizzo then grabbed the roll of duct tape and I was immediately filled with an immense sense of dread. I then realized why the douche bag had removed my clothes. Not only was it a way to humiliate me, but it also meant the sticky strips would adhere to my light colored skin much tighter and stricter.
Oh, and did I mention that duct tape on bare skin is EXTREMELY painful?
That fact alone, I guessed, was main reason for my unconsented stripping.
Rizzo whisked both my hands behind my back, crossing them at the wrists, and began applying the tape. He wound the silver substance around my hands countless times, crisscrossing my wrists vertically as well as horizontally. When he was finished, the sticky bindings kept my arms locked in place behind me. Duct tape was normally fairly simple to escape from, but Rizzo’s handiwork felt unbreakable.
Seeming satisfied I wouldn’t be able to punch him anymore, Rizzo moved down towards my legs, obviously preparing to encase them in tape as well. As he knelt down next to me I noticed a pool of blood near where he stood. At first I thought it might have been my blood, but I had not sustained any injuries severe enough to cause that much bleeding(that I knew of). A closer look at Rizzo revealed he was indeed the source of the blood. I noticed that his white shirt was no longer white at all, but was almost completely red, stained with his own blood. I was sorta surprised to see that some of my gunshots had indeed hit their intended target. Eying him closely, I could see three clear bullet holes; one in his shoulder, one in his abdomen, and one in his thigh.
One shot was enough to put even the strongest man or woman down on the ground. Three could kill someone instantly. But, yet, Rizzo was still on his feet, more interested in taping me up than taping up the holes in his body.
I was finally comfortable and curious enough to break the awkward silence.
“How... are you still alive?” I asked.
Rizzo, who had crossed my ankles and had began wrapping strips of duct tape around them, stopped what he was doing and looked at me. He gave a puzzling look, as if it was the dumbest question he’d ever heard, but said nothing. I continued:
“I mean, I shot you at least three times. And, yet, you still kicked my ass... and tied me up. I just can’t help but be a little...”, I searched for the word. “Impressed.” I finally said.
Rizzo, now finished tightly binding my ankles, stared blankly at me.
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“Try me.” I retorted, finally mustering a smile.
He began;
“It’s an experimental drug. I’ve heard they call it “The Superman”. Gives you enhanced agility, improved strength, dulls pain receptors, and quickens healing.”
I made a mental note of everything he was telling me. A miracle drug that gave someone literal superpowers was something I’d heard rumors about for years but never seen for myself. Hearing (and feeling it) first hand was a bit of a shock, but my poker face held. I was done playing the victim and wanted to have some fun. When he was finished I replied:
“So, you’re telling me you took a drug called “The Superman” and it doesn’t even make you bullet proof? I mean, c’mon. “The Wolverine” would have been a more accurate title.” I trailed off and Rizzo just glared at me, obviously becoming more and more annoyed.
“Oh, sorry, I got a little nerdy there,” I finally said, just as Rizzo rolled his eyes. “Please, do go on.”
“You already know more than you should. I’m the one who should be doing the interrogating here.”
“Interrogation? Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Can’t a helpless damsel in distress make a little small talk with her captor? Say, is this “Superman” stuff one of the drugs being stockpiled in the cargo holds?”
Rizzo, who was now binding my knees with tape, snapped his gaze towards me.
“How do you know what’s in the cargo holds?”
“Um, hello? You’re talking to a secret agent. Snooping around is kinda my job. It would be lame if I didn’t know.”
Rizzo was getting frustrated:
“Is that where you got the explosives from? What are you planning?”
Rizzo gestured to some explosive charges sitting on a counter on the other side of the room. They were the ones I’d stolen earlier, and he had confiscated when he stole my clothes.
“Planning?”, I shot back with a chuckle. “I have lots of plans... or HAD lots of plans. It’s too bad you tied me up. It’s not like I’m going to be able escape... again.”
“Alright, that’s it.” Rizzo said furiously. He reached for something laying on the floor near him, and I instantly recognized it as one of my lost white socks. It was obviously dirty and worn, having been on my booted feet for an extended amount of time.
I cringed, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it.
“C’mon, man! We were having such a great chat! I thought we were really... Mmmpphh!”
Rizzo balled up the smelly sock and stuffed it into my mouth. Packing the gag tightly between my cheeks, he then applied duct tape over my mouth and began wrapping strips around my head. After making at least a half-dozen passes he finally stopped, patting down the tape over my mouth.
I was relieved to notice that he was almost out of tape, having used almost all of it on my wrists, legs and gag. But apparently he was hellbent on using every last bit of the stuff.
He then started applying some duct tape to my chest, wrapping several strips around my entire body. Two wrappings of tape, several strips thick, encircled my arms and chest, above and below my breasts. The last of the tape kept my bare arms secured to my sides, with my hands still firmly bound behind my back.
Once he stepped away from me I noticed the full extent of the tape on my legs. A thick wrapping of tape kept my ankles stuck together, while he had applied a ridiculous amount of tape to my shins, above & below my knees, and also to my thighs.
And I should emphasize that my legs are still completely bare, making any movement or struggling excruciatingly painful. And if I happen to be able to escape this newest bondage predicament and start removing the tape... let’s just say I won’t have to shave my legs for a while.
Rizzo looked down at me, still agitated by my earlier annoyance, but also somewhat satisfied by my extreme discomfort.
“Oh, how the mighty Agent 38 has fallen.”
Unable to provide anymore quips to undermine his confidence, I simply rolled my eyes and let out the most condescending “Mmpphh” I could manage.
“Sorry, I’m all outta tape, sweetheart. I’ll have to bring back some ropes and chains to make sure you don’t go escaping again and causing the boss any more trouble.”
He wandered over to the pile of clothes he’d stripped from me, picking them up.
“You didn’t want these back did you?”
He walked over to a small door on the wall that was labeled “incinerator” and pushed the clothes through.
“Oops.” He said as my former attire tumbled down the chute.
I gave no reaction, not giving him the satisfaction, all the while knowing that if I got out of this I’d have to complete my mission half-naked.
Rizzo continued on monologuing about his evil plan, and I finally began to take notice my surroundings. I realized that Rizzo had moved me away from the refrigerator where my beatdown took place and I was now lying on the floor next to a large shelf.
The same large shelf that my pistol had slid under earlier.
Rizzo finally finished:
“...The boss will be down to visit you shortly. And I hope you’ll be in the mood to chat, ‘cause I’m sure he has lots of questions for you.”
He finally turned away, walking towards another hatchway that stood on the opposite end of the kitchen from the hatch that I’d shoved him through not that long ago. As he walked away he grabbed the explosive charges that were sitting on the counter.
“Oh, and I suppose I’ll put these back where you found them, since you won’t be needing them anymore.”
Rizzo strolled away. I would only have one shot at this(quite literally).
I laid back on the floor and used my bound wrists to help me roll across the cold floor. I ended up throwing myself against the shelf, putting my hands in the perfect position to reach under it with my bound hands. With my arms taped to my sides, I had a limited range of movement, but it was enough. I stretched my arms as far as I could, blindly feeling under the shelf for the pistol. All the while I watched as Rizzo drew closer to the door. Finally, I felt something metal, and grabbed it, being careful not to pull the trigger and shoot myself. Thankfully I had it by the muzzle and quickly dragged the pistol out from under the dusty shelf. Placing the gun in one of my hands, carefully touching the trigger the with my finger, I struggled to sit up on the floor. Rizzo was just seconds away from exiting the kitchen, and alerting the entire ship to my presence. I craned my arms as far as I could around to my side, scooting my body on the floor trying to position myself for the best shot possible. Rizzo was in the doorway, and I was aiming for his head. I would not miss this time, even with both my arms tied behind my back.
Rizzo stepped through doorway, ready to turn down the hallway.
I lined up the shot perfectly, my trigger finger twitching with anticipation.
And then... Rizzo stumbled.
In a display that made me almost laugh out loud under my tape gag, the man tripped on something invisible in the doorway and lost his balance. Completely caught by surprise, with his legs ensnared by an unseen trap, the man began to fall quickly. He attempted to get his feet up under him, but it only turned his fall into an even faster running tumble. Instead of landing on the floor, he was sent crashing into the metal bulkhead on the other side of the hallway.
A loud clang marked the moment when his skull finally met the bulkhead.
Within a second Rizzo on the floor in a heap. After several seconds there still was no movement and this time it looked like he was really out cold for good. If he was play acting, he sure was taking his time. And trying to fool who exactly?
Rizzo’s tumble had made me completely forget the fact that I was just trying to shoot him in the back of the head a moment earlier. And it also distracted me from asking some important questions; like what exactly did he trip on? And how did THAT knock him out, after I’d tried repeatedly do the same with more violent means.
And I was hit with a slew of other questions when a lone figure appeared in the doorway in front of Rizzo.
It was a woman. Wearing knee high boots, black tights, and a black & white stripped dress, she stood heroically in the hatchway with a huge smile on her face.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was... Sara?
“Hi, Agent 38! I’m here to rescue you!”
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TightsBound
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 589
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: CT, USA
Another great chapter to a great story!
I especially love how thoroughly she was tied up. After all that hard work he put in taping her up, it’s almost a shame she’s about to be rescued :p
I especially love how thoroughly she was tied up. After all that hard work he put in taping her up, it’s almost a shame she’s about to be rescued :p
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BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
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- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
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Ha ha! Too true!TightsBound wrote: ↑5 years ago Another great chapter to a great story!
I especially love how thoroughly she was tied up. After all that hard work he put in taping her up, it’s almost a shame she’s about to be rescued :p
Fun fact: this chapter was originally going to have a much darker ending which involved Agent 38 actually shooting and killing Rizzo. But as I was writing I realized a more light-hearted conclusion was better. Plus, Sara is a character I have big plans for in the future, so using her here felt right. And after escaping and fighting all on her own for so long, I figured it was time Agent 38 got some backup.
I'm still far behind, but this is a really good series!
Don's Stories, Posted by Emma, Are Here!:https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=46&t=5915
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BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
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- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
- Contact:
Yes, Chapter 12 is STILL coming! I apologize for the extended delay in between chapters. In the meantime, feel free to cell out a small snippet from the next chapter, “Double Damsel Trouble”, I just posted on my DeviantArt page.
https://www.deviantart.com/bobafettish1 ... -788491440
https://www.deviantart.com/bobafettish1 ... -788491440
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BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 121
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
- Contact:
Chapter Twelve: “Double Damsel Trouble”
_______________________________________
“Oh my god! What did he do to you?”
“Mmmmmppppphhh!”
“Yikes, that looks painful.”
“Mph.”
“It’s a good thing I got here when I did. He could have killed you! Y’know, you should have listened to me earlier and taken me with you. It was really hard getting out of those chains.”
“Mmpphh.”
“Wait, you’re a secret agent, right? And I’m rescuing you... does that make me a secret agent too? Oh. My. God. We can be partners!”
“Mmmppphhh....”
“What was that?”
“Mmmpphh!”
“Look, I can’t understand you!”
“MMMPPPPPHHH!!”
“Oh, right...”
Sara finally found the seam of the duct tape around the back of my neck and began unspooling my gag. About damn time.
At first sight of the girl I was I was filled with a whirlwind of emotions.
First of all, happiness: knowing that there was another able bodied person on this ship that wasn’t trying to kill me or tie me up was at least somewhat comforting.
But I was also angry: specifically at Sara for not staying where she was like I told her to. She could have been killed doing what she did, or worse. The girl seemed oblivious to the danger she was in. And the led me to my next emotion...
Fear: I was terrified for this young woman’s life. Ever since finding her and her companions shackled in the cargo hold I felt a huge responsibility hanging upon my shoulders. All of they’re lives were now in my hands. Protecting them and saving them from a horrible fate as slaves was my number one goal. At least locked in the cargo container below I could be sure they were safe for the time being. But now Sara was here, right in front of me. I was still very much bound and gagged, and if something happened I wouldn’t be able to protect her. The though had crossed my mind that Sara’s apparent knock out of Rizzo could easily be another one of his tricks, like he’d pulled on me earlier.
The image of the man brutally killing Sara in front of me as I watched helplessly flashed in mind for the briefest moment and I pushed it away.
Speaking of Rizzo, I was also very much confused: What had Sara done to be able to trip up Rizzo as she did? And after all of my best attacks, SHE was able to take him down with such a simple trick?
Lastly, I felt a great deal of shame being in front of Sara like this. Upon first meeting her I had tried to project a sense of strength and confidence to ensure she’d stay calm and trust me to take care of her. But here, she saw me as a vulnerable prisoner, one that could barely help herself much less rescue someone else. By stripping me of my clothes and binding and gagging me as such, Rizzo had quite literally stolen my dignity. Ending up half-naked in strict bondage was bad enough, but being “rescued” by a seemingly clueless young girl was almost too embarrassing to deal with.
After several minutes of work, Sara was finally almost finished removing my gag. Rizzo had carelessly applied the tape over my sensitive skin and even my hair, and thankfully the girl was careful while pulling it off. Upon getting to the last strip of tape she quickly ripped it off my face burning my mouth and cheeks thoroughly.
“MMPPPHH,” I screamed in pain with the sock still lodged in my mouth. I finally spit out the disgusting piece of cloth and spoke my mind:
“Ow! That hurt! Careful!”
“Sorry!” Sara sheepishly replied.
“What the hell are you even doing here?”
“Um, saving you, obviously. You’re welcome, by the way.”
I was grateful for her help, but I was too pissed to admit it at the moment.
“I didn’t need saving, thank you very much. I had the situation well under control.”
“Under control? Are you kidding me? He taped you up! How in the world were you gonna get outta that?”
“You really think I can’t escape from duct tape?”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Sara’s wide eyed stare pretty much said “Go ahead, do it” without uttering the words. Not about to let her little mind game get the best of me, I accepted the challenge and began struggle with the tape around my wrists. I yanked and twisted my hands in as many directions as I could trying to break the sticky grip of the duct tape. After only a minute trying to free myself I realized it was a futile struggle. I gave a puzzled look to Sara.
“Well, obviously it’ll take me a few minutes. This isn’t easy.”
“Uh huh,” she said with a sarcastic tone. “Well, I’ve got some time.” Sara leaned up against the counter, still staring at me.
“What? No, we don’t have time for this. You win! I can’t get out. Now get a knife or something to...”
“No.” She firmly cut me off.
“No? What do you mean no?”
“No, not until you thank me for rescuing you.”
“Oh no, we’re not doing this right now! We don’t have time...”
“Well, then you’d better start struggling before another one of the bad guys comes down here!”
“This is childish... and Ridiculous! Just get some scissors or...”
Sara continued to shake her head, and my mouth continued to drop open in disbelief. We were in the midst of a life or death scenario and she wanted a “thank you”? Could this mission get anymore insane?
After a few more moments of haggling with her I quickly realized it was no use arguing.
“Okay, okay! Thank you! Is that what you wanted?”
“Say it like you mean it.” She pressed.
I sighed hard, then began:
“Thank you... for rescuing me.”
Sara looked unimpressed.
“That’ll do... I guess. Although you could be more convincing.”
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.
Thankfully Sara wasted no time going for a pair of scissors on one of the counter tops. She then started on my legs, cutting through the tape around my ankles, shins and knees.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said suddenly. “Did I miss something? How are you even here? How did YOU escape?”
“Well, while you had my blindfold off earlier I managed to grab a hair pin and...”
“And you managed to pick the locks on all your handcuffs”, I finished.
“Um, yeah. How did you know?”
“Listen, kid, I’ve worn more pairs of handcuffs than I have jewelry. That hair pin trick is one of the oldest ones in the book. The real question is; where did you learn to to do that?”
“YouTube.” She said proudly.
I gave her a bewildered look but said nothing, having been rendered fairly speechless. I was still unhappy with my new “partner”, but I couldn’t deny it was much easier to escape my latest bondage predicament with help. And besides, Sara had managed escape her own captivity AND knock out Rizzo all on her own. Maybe I was underestimating this girl...
Sara was now done cutting free my legs and had moved around my back to begin slicing through the tape on my wrists.
“So, how did you manage to trip him up like that?” I inquired, gesturing towards the still unconscious Rizzo. “And how did you even find us?”
As she struggled with tape around my wrists and torso, Sara told the story of how she’d escaped the cargo hold, snuck her way into the command tower, and just so happened to see me fighting Rizzo in the corridor.
“...When I saw him tying you up I knew it was only a matter of time before he came back out of the kitchen. So I found some wire in a closet and strung it across the door, just a few inches off the ground.”
“And I suppose you learned that from YouTube too?”
Sara grimaced and opened her mouth, ready to give me another tongue lashing. But I smiled slyly, a gesture that said “I was just joking.” She returned the smile and continued with her work.
Finally, she was finished. Sara carefully peeled the tape off of my (mostly) bare skin. I was able to put the palms of my freed hands on the floor and prop myself unaided. Without hesitation I began shifting my weight, preparing to get to my feet. I managed to get up into a squatting position, but instead of being able to stand I nearly fell forwards onto my face. Thankfully Sara caught me.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said, steadying me and encouraging me to sit back down. “Take it easy.”
I locked eyes with Sara.
“This is no time to ‘take it easy’. I have a mission to complete. Help me up!”
With a worried look, Sara complied with my order. The girl knelt down beside me and I lifted my left arm. She grabbed it, hoisting it over her shoulder and standing, pulling me with her.
“Where are we going?”, Sara asked.
“First, I’m gonna escort you to the lifeboat. You can hide their until...”
She cut me off.
“Wait, hang on... It looks like I’m the one who’s going to be doing the ‘escorting’. And I’m definitely not going to run and hide!”
“This isn’t open for discussion. I appreciate you helping me here, but I’ve got this.”
Sara gave me an incredulous look.
“No, I’VE got you!”
Trying to ignore her insistence, I continued:
“We’re up against the clock and I don’t have time to babysit. If it comes to a fight I can’t protect you.”
“If it comes to a fight, they will kill you,” Sara quickly retorted. “That guy surely came close.”
I started to speak, but Sara wasn’t finished.
“Look, I may not be some super-secret-spy or whatever. I might not have your knowledge or training or endurance. But none of that matters right now. That fact is... you need me, whether you want to admit or not.”
I paused for a moment, genuinely impressed by her fortitude. Sara was right, I did need her. It was doubtful I would even still be alive now without her. And I certainly couldn’t stand or walk on my own at the moment. But still, I resisted.
“It’s... it’s too dangerous. Risking my own life is enough. I can’t risk yours too.”
“Then let ME risk my life.” Sara said, with the most serious tone.
I could tell I had all but lost this argument. There was no point in continuing it. I hung my head in defeat.
“Y’know, I never wanted a sidekick.”
Sara grinned at me, a grin I’d quickly learned to love.
“Then how ‘bout a friend?”
She held out her hand, gesturing for a handshake. With my free hand I grabbed it tightly and grinned back.
Sara finally broke the awkward silence that had developed between us.
“Sooo, where are we really going?”
“We’ve gotta get to the engine room. I have a plan. But first... help me to the fridge. I’m starving.”
It wasn’t long before Sara had me propped up next to a counter near the refrigerator. By now I could at least stand on my own, as long as I held onto the counter top for dear life. I had rummaged through the fridge, finding nothing that was very appetizing. Some old and brown fruit, uncooked pasta, and some half-eaten military rations made up the bulk of the fridge’s contents. My most intriguing find was an unopened bottle of red wine. I briefly considered cracking it open, but realized I had the best chance of completing my mission if I was sober. I scarfed down as many bits of of food I could, knowing that anything that didn’t make me want to immediately vomit would help me get my strength back sooner.
While my desperation for something to snack on stole my attention, I’d completely forgotten that Rizzo was still out in the hall, unconscious. Thankfully Sara was still aware of the man’s presence and, with remarkable strength, began to drag the very heavy man back in to kitchen.
Rolling him over onto his stomach, Sara unhooked the wire from the door that she’d use to trip Rizzo and brought it to his still unconscious body. Crossing his arms behind his back, Sara wound the wire tightly around his wrists and knotted it.
From my perch near the fridge I looked on in awe of Sara’s efficiency in taking care of Rizzo.
“Are you sure you’ve never done anything like this before?” I asked with sincere curiosity. “I mean, I’ve just never seen a civilian be so.. calm in a situation like this.”
Sara shrugged.
“My dad’s a cop. Maybe I picked up some of his... instincts?”
There was definitely something different about this girl, but it was hard to put a finger on. She looked as normal as they come. Sara still wore the black & white striped dress with black tights and light brown leather knee high riding boots. Her reddish-brown hair was still in a tight knot, but was beginning to fray and come apart after all she’d been through. But her looks were obviously a deception. A facade hiding a different person underneath. I was curious to find out who that person truly was, and what she was capable of.
She had been kidnapped, held hostage, shackled hand & foot and locked in a shipping container to await a life of slavery. Most people in that situation would have been stricken with fear. Terrified beyond belief. Unable to do the simplest tasks without trembling uncontrollably.
But not Sara. She had escaped her chains, stalked one of her captors, laid a trap for him, and was now tying him up. All the while practically saving the life of a highly trained super spy.
This kid had potential.
Sara dragged Rizzo over to a closet on the far side of the kitchen. She shoved his body inside as best she could and closed the door, grabbing a chair and wedging it under the door’s handle.
Sara stood back from the door, placing her hands on her hips and sighed.
“That should hold him for a while!”
“A little while,” I added. “The guy’s basically got superpowers. Once he wakes up I doubt anything will hold him at bay for long.”
“So, should I find more wire to tie him up with?”
“No! You’ve done enough. All we can do is hope he hit his head hard enough to keep him comatose until we can get off this bucket.”
Spotting my stolen pistol on the floor I gestured to Sara. “Grab that. C’mon, we’ve gotta get moving.”
She came to my side, handing me the gun, but the girl had a look of of concern on her face.
“But... your clothes?”
I had somehow forgetting how naked I was. Wearing only my thin lacy halter top meant the upper half of my body was barely covered, and with only my panties left below it meant my legs were completely bare.
“I’ll have to find something to wear on the way,” I said as Sara helped me stumble towards the kitchen hatchway.
Once out in the hallway I bent down to the floor and grabbed at a black device; the explosive charges that Rizzo had tried to take from me earlier.
“We’re gonna need these.” I told Sara with a smile. She did not share my enthusiasm.
We wound our way through the thankfully deserted hallways, going deeper into the ship. We descended several floors in search of the access hatch to the engine room. Rounding a corner I suddenly heard voices coming towards us. Before Sara had a chance to notice the coming danger I summoned what little strength I had built up and whisked her into a supply closet we just so happened to be passing by.
“Hey! What are you...?” Sara exclaimed as I half-dragged her into the tiny room. She started to speak again, still confused by my sudden movement, but I clamped my hand over her mouth. That seemed to make her even more confused and louder, so I used my other hand to put a single finger to my lips as I pinned her against the wall.
“Ssssshhh!” I whispered, pulling the door to the closet mostly closed as quickly and as quietly as I could.
Finally understanding the gravity of the situation, Sara remained quiet and motionless, apart from her labored breathing from underneath my hand. We remained face to face, taking turns locking eyes with one another and glancing towards the door as the voices grew closer. Moments later they were just beyond the door, two dark haired men walking at a slow pace and carrying on an in-depth conversation with one another in Italian. Sara and I tensed simultaneously noticing the duo through the crack in the door. If either of them even glanced towards the door they would see us. It was a moment the felt like an eternity.
Finally, they walked out of our line of sight, and we both breathed a sigh of relief. I began to relax, slowly removing my hand from Sara’s lips. I trusted she knew not to make any noise, but I began to regret that when the girl began to squirm and shriek. Before I could wonder what she was alarmed about, I followed her horrified gaze down to her feet. Sitting right next to her booted foot was a large grey rat. The disgusting vermin was sniffing at her ankle, and Sara was on the verge of screaming. I returned my hand to her mouth, giving her a look that pleaded “stay calm”.
Sara trembled, trying desperately to keep her composure, but she was slowly failing. Then, the rat moved even closer, climbing onto the toe of her boot... and Sara responded in haste.
Suddenly, Sara jerked her leg to the right, successfully launching the rat that had decided to perch himself atop her foot. Seemingly in slow motion, the animal tumbled through the air and slammed into a stack of empty paint cans near the adjacent wall. The cans made a loud metallic sound as they clanked together, falling to the floor and rolling in various directions.
The rat, now as stunned and terrified as we were, scurried away into a nearby pile of trash.
Sara and I froze once more, our breaths catching in our throat as we noticed the two men had stopped talking to each other. Soon after, I heard one of them say “did you hear that?” in Italian. Although we could not see them, we could feel them staring at the closet door. Their footsteps grew closer. I tensed.
I was still in no condition to fight, I could barely walk on my own. But once the door swung open I would give them all that I had, and then some. (It would probably hurt me more than it hurt them.) And I still had one bullet hanging in the chamber of my pistol. I pointed the weapon towards the door and pressed my finger to the trigger. Sara remained motionless and completely quiet. I was now facing away from her, standing between the girl and the door hoping to shield her from whatever assault may come.
Then, the rat reappeared, this time on the opposite side of the closet. I could sense Sara’s anxiety return, and I silent begged her to keep quiet and still.
Thankfully, the creature seemed to be just as scared of us as Sara was of him. The rat was looking for a way out, and I knew how to help him... and us.
Reaching out with the barrel of the pistol, I placed it in the small crack in the door and moved the door open wider. It squealed in response to the movement and the rat took notice of his new escape route. He bolted for the door, running at top speed through the opening and out into the hallway.
Suddenly we heard gasps and shrieks from the men outside. Although we still couldn’t see them, we could hear them yelling as they ran down the hallway away from the closet. Apparently even the tough guy henchmen were equally terrified of the innocent rat.
I quite nearly collapsed to the floor in relief, but we both remained where we were. After several minutes of waiting, wanting to be certain the men were long gone, I finally stepped away from Sara. I stumbled towards the opposite wall, and as gracefully as I could, sat down on a metal box on the other side of the room.
“That was...” I began.
“...Too close,” Sara finished. “Do you know if we’re near the engine room?”
“We can’t be far... Or, at least I hope we’re not.”
“Are you sure this is what you should be doing?” Sara asked, giving me a quizzical look.
“Kid, I rarely know what I SHOULD be doing. I mostly just guess.... and hope for the best,”
“That’s not very reassuring.” She said with a grimace.
I crossed my arms as a chill swept over my exposed body.
“Damn... I still need clothes.” I said, shivering.
Sara lifted her skirt slightly and pointed at her black tights.
“I could lend you these, but I’m not sure if they’d fit you.”
I started to wave off the idea, but then she began to stare at me. I quickly realized she was looking at something underneath me.
“What are you sitting on?” Sara asked as she approached me.
I hoisted myself up to my feet and stared down at the box I had been resting on. It was shiny chrome and covered in rivets, about one meter in height and width and had a removable hinged lid that was sealed tight with a latch.
I knelt down in front of the box and an pulled down on the latch. The lid popped up and I grabbed it, shoving it back against the wall and exposing the contents.
In it were various pieces of scuba gear. An air tank, scuba mask, flippers, various hoses, a utility belt, and... a wet suit. The suit was mostly black with dark purple accents. It was folded neatly in the middle of the pile of gear.
I stared down into the box, then my gaze drifted to Sara who met my stare. I raised an eyebrow, and a smirk spread across my face.
“This might come in handy.”
_______________________________________
“Oh my god! What did he do to you?”
“Mmmmmppppphhh!”
“Yikes, that looks painful.”
“Mph.”
“It’s a good thing I got here when I did. He could have killed you! Y’know, you should have listened to me earlier and taken me with you. It was really hard getting out of those chains.”
“Mmpphh.”
“Wait, you’re a secret agent, right? And I’m rescuing you... does that make me a secret agent too? Oh. My. God. We can be partners!”
“Mmmppphhh....”
“What was that?”
“Mmmpphh!”
“Look, I can’t understand you!”
“MMMPPPPPHHH!!”
“Oh, right...”
Sara finally found the seam of the duct tape around the back of my neck and began unspooling my gag. About damn time.
At first sight of the girl I was I was filled with a whirlwind of emotions.
First of all, happiness: knowing that there was another able bodied person on this ship that wasn’t trying to kill me or tie me up was at least somewhat comforting.
But I was also angry: specifically at Sara for not staying where she was like I told her to. She could have been killed doing what she did, or worse. The girl seemed oblivious to the danger she was in. And the led me to my next emotion...
Fear: I was terrified for this young woman’s life. Ever since finding her and her companions shackled in the cargo hold I felt a huge responsibility hanging upon my shoulders. All of they’re lives were now in my hands. Protecting them and saving them from a horrible fate as slaves was my number one goal. At least locked in the cargo container below I could be sure they were safe for the time being. But now Sara was here, right in front of me. I was still very much bound and gagged, and if something happened I wouldn’t be able to protect her. The though had crossed my mind that Sara’s apparent knock out of Rizzo could easily be another one of his tricks, like he’d pulled on me earlier.
The image of the man brutally killing Sara in front of me as I watched helplessly flashed in mind for the briefest moment and I pushed it away.
Speaking of Rizzo, I was also very much confused: What had Sara done to be able to trip up Rizzo as she did? And after all of my best attacks, SHE was able to take him down with such a simple trick?
Lastly, I felt a great deal of shame being in front of Sara like this. Upon first meeting her I had tried to project a sense of strength and confidence to ensure she’d stay calm and trust me to take care of her. But here, she saw me as a vulnerable prisoner, one that could barely help herself much less rescue someone else. By stripping me of my clothes and binding and gagging me as such, Rizzo had quite literally stolen my dignity. Ending up half-naked in strict bondage was bad enough, but being “rescued” by a seemingly clueless young girl was almost too embarrassing to deal with.
After several minutes of work, Sara was finally almost finished removing my gag. Rizzo had carelessly applied the tape over my sensitive skin and even my hair, and thankfully the girl was careful while pulling it off. Upon getting to the last strip of tape she quickly ripped it off my face burning my mouth and cheeks thoroughly.
“MMPPPHH,” I screamed in pain with the sock still lodged in my mouth. I finally spit out the disgusting piece of cloth and spoke my mind:
“Ow! That hurt! Careful!”
“Sorry!” Sara sheepishly replied.
“What the hell are you even doing here?”
“Um, saving you, obviously. You’re welcome, by the way.”
I was grateful for her help, but I was too pissed to admit it at the moment.
“I didn’t need saving, thank you very much. I had the situation well under control.”
“Under control? Are you kidding me? He taped you up! How in the world were you gonna get outta that?”
“You really think I can’t escape from duct tape?”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Sara’s wide eyed stare pretty much said “Go ahead, do it” without uttering the words. Not about to let her little mind game get the best of me, I accepted the challenge and began struggle with the tape around my wrists. I yanked and twisted my hands in as many directions as I could trying to break the sticky grip of the duct tape. After only a minute trying to free myself I realized it was a futile struggle. I gave a puzzled look to Sara.
“Well, obviously it’ll take me a few minutes. This isn’t easy.”
“Uh huh,” she said with a sarcastic tone. “Well, I’ve got some time.” Sara leaned up against the counter, still staring at me.
“What? No, we don’t have time for this. You win! I can’t get out. Now get a knife or something to...”
“No.” She firmly cut me off.
“No? What do you mean no?”
“No, not until you thank me for rescuing you.”
“Oh no, we’re not doing this right now! We don’t have time...”
“Well, then you’d better start struggling before another one of the bad guys comes down here!”
“This is childish... and Ridiculous! Just get some scissors or...”
Sara continued to shake her head, and my mouth continued to drop open in disbelief. We were in the midst of a life or death scenario and she wanted a “thank you”? Could this mission get anymore insane?
After a few more moments of haggling with her I quickly realized it was no use arguing.
“Okay, okay! Thank you! Is that what you wanted?”
“Say it like you mean it.” She pressed.
I sighed hard, then began:
“Thank you... for rescuing me.”
Sara looked unimpressed.
“That’ll do... I guess. Although you could be more convincing.”
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.
Thankfully Sara wasted no time going for a pair of scissors on one of the counter tops. She then started on my legs, cutting through the tape around my ankles, shins and knees.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said suddenly. “Did I miss something? How are you even here? How did YOU escape?”
“Well, while you had my blindfold off earlier I managed to grab a hair pin and...”
“And you managed to pick the locks on all your handcuffs”, I finished.
“Um, yeah. How did you know?”
“Listen, kid, I’ve worn more pairs of handcuffs than I have jewelry. That hair pin trick is one of the oldest ones in the book. The real question is; where did you learn to to do that?”
“YouTube.” She said proudly.
I gave her a bewildered look but said nothing, having been rendered fairly speechless. I was still unhappy with my new “partner”, but I couldn’t deny it was much easier to escape my latest bondage predicament with help. And besides, Sara had managed escape her own captivity AND knock out Rizzo all on her own. Maybe I was underestimating this girl...
Sara was now done cutting free my legs and had moved around my back to begin slicing through the tape on my wrists.
“So, how did you manage to trip him up like that?” I inquired, gesturing towards the still unconscious Rizzo. “And how did you even find us?”
As she struggled with tape around my wrists and torso, Sara told the story of how she’d escaped the cargo hold, snuck her way into the command tower, and just so happened to see me fighting Rizzo in the corridor.
“...When I saw him tying you up I knew it was only a matter of time before he came back out of the kitchen. So I found some wire in a closet and strung it across the door, just a few inches off the ground.”
“And I suppose you learned that from YouTube too?”
Sara grimaced and opened her mouth, ready to give me another tongue lashing. But I smiled slyly, a gesture that said “I was just joking.” She returned the smile and continued with her work.
Finally, she was finished. Sara carefully peeled the tape off of my (mostly) bare skin. I was able to put the palms of my freed hands on the floor and prop myself unaided. Without hesitation I began shifting my weight, preparing to get to my feet. I managed to get up into a squatting position, but instead of being able to stand I nearly fell forwards onto my face. Thankfully Sara caught me.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said, steadying me and encouraging me to sit back down. “Take it easy.”
I locked eyes with Sara.
“This is no time to ‘take it easy’. I have a mission to complete. Help me up!”
With a worried look, Sara complied with my order. The girl knelt down beside me and I lifted my left arm. She grabbed it, hoisting it over her shoulder and standing, pulling me with her.
“Where are we going?”, Sara asked.
“First, I’m gonna escort you to the lifeboat. You can hide their until...”
She cut me off.
“Wait, hang on... It looks like I’m the one who’s going to be doing the ‘escorting’. And I’m definitely not going to run and hide!”
“This isn’t open for discussion. I appreciate you helping me here, but I’ve got this.”
Sara gave me an incredulous look.
“No, I’VE got you!”
Trying to ignore her insistence, I continued:
“We’re up against the clock and I don’t have time to babysit. If it comes to a fight I can’t protect you.”
“If it comes to a fight, they will kill you,” Sara quickly retorted. “That guy surely came close.”
I started to speak, but Sara wasn’t finished.
“Look, I may not be some super-secret-spy or whatever. I might not have your knowledge or training or endurance. But none of that matters right now. That fact is... you need me, whether you want to admit or not.”
I paused for a moment, genuinely impressed by her fortitude. Sara was right, I did need her. It was doubtful I would even still be alive now without her. And I certainly couldn’t stand or walk on my own at the moment. But still, I resisted.
“It’s... it’s too dangerous. Risking my own life is enough. I can’t risk yours too.”
“Then let ME risk my life.” Sara said, with the most serious tone.
I could tell I had all but lost this argument. There was no point in continuing it. I hung my head in defeat.
“Y’know, I never wanted a sidekick.”
Sara grinned at me, a grin I’d quickly learned to love.
“Then how ‘bout a friend?”
She held out her hand, gesturing for a handshake. With my free hand I grabbed it tightly and grinned back.
Sara finally broke the awkward silence that had developed between us.
“Sooo, where are we really going?”
“We’ve gotta get to the engine room. I have a plan. But first... help me to the fridge. I’m starving.”
It wasn’t long before Sara had me propped up next to a counter near the refrigerator. By now I could at least stand on my own, as long as I held onto the counter top for dear life. I had rummaged through the fridge, finding nothing that was very appetizing. Some old and brown fruit, uncooked pasta, and some half-eaten military rations made up the bulk of the fridge’s contents. My most intriguing find was an unopened bottle of red wine. I briefly considered cracking it open, but realized I had the best chance of completing my mission if I was sober. I scarfed down as many bits of of food I could, knowing that anything that didn’t make me want to immediately vomit would help me get my strength back sooner.
While my desperation for something to snack on stole my attention, I’d completely forgotten that Rizzo was still out in the hall, unconscious. Thankfully Sara was still aware of the man’s presence and, with remarkable strength, began to drag the very heavy man back in to kitchen.
Rolling him over onto his stomach, Sara unhooked the wire from the door that she’d use to trip Rizzo and brought it to his still unconscious body. Crossing his arms behind his back, Sara wound the wire tightly around his wrists and knotted it.
From my perch near the fridge I looked on in awe of Sara’s efficiency in taking care of Rizzo.
“Are you sure you’ve never done anything like this before?” I asked with sincere curiosity. “I mean, I’ve just never seen a civilian be so.. calm in a situation like this.”
Sara shrugged.
“My dad’s a cop. Maybe I picked up some of his... instincts?”
There was definitely something different about this girl, but it was hard to put a finger on. She looked as normal as they come. Sara still wore the black & white striped dress with black tights and light brown leather knee high riding boots. Her reddish-brown hair was still in a tight knot, but was beginning to fray and come apart after all she’d been through. But her looks were obviously a deception. A facade hiding a different person underneath. I was curious to find out who that person truly was, and what she was capable of.
She had been kidnapped, held hostage, shackled hand & foot and locked in a shipping container to await a life of slavery. Most people in that situation would have been stricken with fear. Terrified beyond belief. Unable to do the simplest tasks without trembling uncontrollably.
But not Sara. She had escaped her chains, stalked one of her captors, laid a trap for him, and was now tying him up. All the while practically saving the life of a highly trained super spy.
This kid had potential.
Sara dragged Rizzo over to a closet on the far side of the kitchen. She shoved his body inside as best she could and closed the door, grabbing a chair and wedging it under the door’s handle.
Sara stood back from the door, placing her hands on her hips and sighed.
“That should hold him for a while!”
“A little while,” I added. “The guy’s basically got superpowers. Once he wakes up I doubt anything will hold him at bay for long.”
“So, should I find more wire to tie him up with?”
“No! You’ve done enough. All we can do is hope he hit his head hard enough to keep him comatose until we can get off this bucket.”
Spotting my stolen pistol on the floor I gestured to Sara. “Grab that. C’mon, we’ve gotta get moving.”
She came to my side, handing me the gun, but the girl had a look of of concern on her face.
“But... your clothes?”
I had somehow forgetting how naked I was. Wearing only my thin lacy halter top meant the upper half of my body was barely covered, and with only my panties left below it meant my legs were completely bare.
“I’ll have to find something to wear on the way,” I said as Sara helped me stumble towards the kitchen hatchway.
Once out in the hallway I bent down to the floor and grabbed at a black device; the explosive charges that Rizzo had tried to take from me earlier.
“We’re gonna need these.” I told Sara with a smile. She did not share my enthusiasm.
We wound our way through the thankfully deserted hallways, going deeper into the ship. We descended several floors in search of the access hatch to the engine room. Rounding a corner I suddenly heard voices coming towards us. Before Sara had a chance to notice the coming danger I summoned what little strength I had built up and whisked her into a supply closet we just so happened to be passing by.
“Hey! What are you...?” Sara exclaimed as I half-dragged her into the tiny room. She started to speak again, still confused by my sudden movement, but I clamped my hand over her mouth. That seemed to make her even more confused and louder, so I used my other hand to put a single finger to my lips as I pinned her against the wall.
“Ssssshhh!” I whispered, pulling the door to the closet mostly closed as quickly and as quietly as I could.
Finally understanding the gravity of the situation, Sara remained quiet and motionless, apart from her labored breathing from underneath my hand. We remained face to face, taking turns locking eyes with one another and glancing towards the door as the voices grew closer. Moments later they were just beyond the door, two dark haired men walking at a slow pace and carrying on an in-depth conversation with one another in Italian. Sara and I tensed simultaneously noticing the duo through the crack in the door. If either of them even glanced towards the door they would see us. It was a moment the felt like an eternity.
Finally, they walked out of our line of sight, and we both breathed a sigh of relief. I began to relax, slowly removing my hand from Sara’s lips. I trusted she knew not to make any noise, but I began to regret that when the girl began to squirm and shriek. Before I could wonder what she was alarmed about, I followed her horrified gaze down to her feet. Sitting right next to her booted foot was a large grey rat. The disgusting vermin was sniffing at her ankle, and Sara was on the verge of screaming. I returned my hand to her mouth, giving her a look that pleaded “stay calm”.
Sara trembled, trying desperately to keep her composure, but she was slowly failing. Then, the rat moved even closer, climbing onto the toe of her boot... and Sara responded in haste.
Suddenly, Sara jerked her leg to the right, successfully launching the rat that had decided to perch himself atop her foot. Seemingly in slow motion, the animal tumbled through the air and slammed into a stack of empty paint cans near the adjacent wall. The cans made a loud metallic sound as they clanked together, falling to the floor and rolling in various directions.
The rat, now as stunned and terrified as we were, scurried away into a nearby pile of trash.
Sara and I froze once more, our breaths catching in our throat as we noticed the two men had stopped talking to each other. Soon after, I heard one of them say “did you hear that?” in Italian. Although we could not see them, we could feel them staring at the closet door. Their footsteps grew closer. I tensed.
I was still in no condition to fight, I could barely walk on my own. But once the door swung open I would give them all that I had, and then some. (It would probably hurt me more than it hurt them.) And I still had one bullet hanging in the chamber of my pistol. I pointed the weapon towards the door and pressed my finger to the trigger. Sara remained motionless and completely quiet. I was now facing away from her, standing between the girl and the door hoping to shield her from whatever assault may come.
Then, the rat reappeared, this time on the opposite side of the closet. I could sense Sara’s anxiety return, and I silent begged her to keep quiet and still.
Thankfully, the creature seemed to be just as scared of us as Sara was of him. The rat was looking for a way out, and I knew how to help him... and us.
Reaching out with the barrel of the pistol, I placed it in the small crack in the door and moved the door open wider. It squealed in response to the movement and the rat took notice of his new escape route. He bolted for the door, running at top speed through the opening and out into the hallway.
Suddenly we heard gasps and shrieks from the men outside. Although we still couldn’t see them, we could hear them yelling as they ran down the hallway away from the closet. Apparently even the tough guy henchmen were equally terrified of the innocent rat.
I quite nearly collapsed to the floor in relief, but we both remained where we were. After several minutes of waiting, wanting to be certain the men were long gone, I finally stepped away from Sara. I stumbled towards the opposite wall, and as gracefully as I could, sat down on a metal box on the other side of the room.
“That was...” I began.
“...Too close,” Sara finished. “Do you know if we’re near the engine room?”
“We can’t be far... Or, at least I hope we’re not.”
“Are you sure this is what you should be doing?” Sara asked, giving me a quizzical look.
“Kid, I rarely know what I SHOULD be doing. I mostly just guess.... and hope for the best,”
“That’s not very reassuring.” She said with a grimace.
I crossed my arms as a chill swept over my exposed body.
“Damn... I still need clothes.” I said, shivering.
Sara lifted her skirt slightly and pointed at her black tights.
“I could lend you these, but I’m not sure if they’d fit you.”
I started to wave off the idea, but then she began to stare at me. I quickly realized she was looking at something underneath me.
“What are you sitting on?” Sara asked as she approached me.
I hoisted myself up to my feet and stared down at the box I had been resting on. It was shiny chrome and covered in rivets, about one meter in height and width and had a removable hinged lid that was sealed tight with a latch.
I knelt down in front of the box and an pulled down on the latch. The lid popped up and I grabbed it, shoving it back against the wall and exposing the contents.
In it were various pieces of scuba gear. An air tank, scuba mask, flippers, various hoses, a utility belt, and... a wet suit. The suit was mostly black with dark purple accents. It was folded neatly in the middle of the pile of gear.
I stared down into the box, then my gaze drifted to Sara who met my stare. I raised an eyebrow, and a smirk spread across my face.
“This might come in handy.”
Where's the next part!?
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BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 121
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
- Contact:
Chapter Thirteen: “The Handcuff Conundrum”
_______________________________________
“Soooo, you’re going swimming?”
Sara’s face held a puzzled expression as she watched me unfold the wetsuit and slide one of my slender bare legs into it.
“I might.” I replied in a playful tone.
“I’m guessing there’s not another one of those in there for me?”
I laughed. “Just be glad you still have your clothes. I’m only doing this because I can’t make a pit stop at Macy’s to get a new wardrobe on the way to the engine room,” I said sarcastically as I struggled to squeeze my other leg into the thick wetsuit. “And when I inevitably get tied up and thrown overboard, I’ll be prepared.”
I continued to struggle with the wetsuit, finally pulling it over both legs and up to my waist. The tightness of the rubbery suit made the job extremely hard, and my significantly reduced strength made it even more difficult.
Upon seeing me sit down once again on the box due to exhaustion, Sara came closer to help me finish getting dressed. I slid my arms into the sleeves and she assisted me in pulling it tight to my torso and zipping the back of the wetsuit all the way up to my neck.
The skin-tight suit, which covered my entire body, minus my feet, hands and head, was almost uncomfortably tight, so much so that I was sure it was at least a couple sizes too small for me. Still, I didn’t mind, it was the sexist thing I’d worn in several hours and I was determined to enjoy it.
The wetsuit was two-tone in color; mostly solid black across both legs and most of my torso, and a deep purple covered my arms up to my shoulders and across the top of my chest.
The wetsuit reminded me of the tactical gear myself and other agents wore during more covert ops. On more than a few missions I’ve worn the “stealth suit” as we call it: a spandex body glove that could be worn with knee high or thigh high boots, gloves, a utility belt and various other gear depending on the mission. While the standard issue is color black, it also came in white, grey, brown and camouflage for various environments.
Of course, I have none of that now. No wardrobe. No resources. No backup.
Well, at little backup.
Sara stepped back and looked me up and down.
“Comfortable?” She ask quizzically.
“Not at all,” I said. “But it’s the price you pay to look good.”
“Spoken like a true woman.” Sara added with a laugh.
I reached back into the box and grabbed a black utility belt. I wound it around my slender waist, buckled it and pulled it tight. The rubbery belt featured a handful of pouches, but I currently had nothing useful to carry in them. Still, they might come in handy.
For now only two things were important; the pistol(which still only had one bullet left), which I was carrying, and the explosive charges, which Sara now held.
I started to leave, but then stopped myself.
“Wait, wait... I’m not going barefoot again.”
I reached into the box again to sift through its contents. Finally I found what I was looking for; a pair of black booties, made of the same form fitting material the wetsuit was made from. Their soles were thin but featured adequate treads. Once slipped onto my feet, the top of the booties covered enough of my ankles to overlap with the bottom of my wetsuit, clearly designed to produce a watertight seal.
Now with more strength and coordination, I was able to stroll to the closet door unaided and raised the gun into firing position. I slowly opened the door and the. quickly glanced both ways down the hallway; the coast was clear. I motioned for Sara to stay behind me as we cautiously moved down the corridor.
After winding through a few more passageways I finally began to hear the faint thrum of the ship’s engines.
“We’re getting close.” I told Sara, who was looking more nervous by the minute.
Finally we came to a floor hatchway that was closed. I pointed my pistol down towards the hatch and Sara slowly opened it to reveal a dirty and dimly lit room below us. The seemingly distant rumble of the engines suddenly became a loud roar that echoed down the corridor. I slipped my gun into the belt behind my back and moved towards the ladder that led down into the engine room.
“Stay here,” I told Sara. “Once I make sure it’s safe I’ll call for you.”
Sara nodded her head nervously as I started down the ladder, the rubber soles of my booties tapping on the metal rungs. As soon as I reached the bottom I quickly unholstered my pistol and brought it to bare. I scanned the room as best I could, giving my eyes time to adjust to the significantly less amount of light. I noticed that I was standing in a large open area, surrounded on my left and right by two massive engine turbines that were the source of all the noise. I could see that some of the walls surrounding the turbines slanted down at a sharp angle, signaling that I was on one of the ship’s lowest decks.
Strangely the the engine room seemed empty. I had assumed we would encounter at least one mechanic or engineer responsible keeping the ship’s engines running, but there was no one in sight. It would be difficult to detect footsteps down here with the roar of the engines, making this portion of the mission all the more dangerous. Still, I was going to need my inexperienced partner regardless. She was the one who had the explosives, after all.
“Clear!”, I yelled up through the hatchway in a stern militaristic tone. My training had kicked in without me realizing it, and the callout was something I would I would have said to a fellow trained soldier or agent. But Sara was nothing of the sort. By the time I realized my faux pas Sara was peering down at me through the hatch.
“Um, just... come on down! It’s alright!”
Sara slowly made her way down the ladder, doing her best to hang onto the charges I’d given to her for safekeeping. She had stuffed one of the charges into the top of each of her brown leather boots, and held a third up under her chin. I suppressed a laugh and couldn’t help but grin as she awkwardly hopped down from the ladder, grabbed the explosives and handed them to me.
“What?” Sara asked with a hint of anger.
“Oh, nothing. I’m just... impressed.”
Sara tried(and failed) to hide her embarrassment, but said nothing.
I took the charges from Sara, laying two on a nearby ledge and keeping one in my hand. I walked towards one of the curved walls and ran my hand across the metal surface. The area was in a corner where two perpendicular bulkheads intersected.
“Yeah, this’ll do.” I said to myself.
“What’ll do?” Sara asked mockingly.
“This is an outer bulkhead. Placing all 3 charges on this wall should blow a hole big enough to flood both of these watertight compartments.”
I gestured to an adjacent hatchway leading to the room on the other side of the bulkhead. With both rooms filled with water, and two sunken turbines, the ship would be immobile and in danger of sinking.
“Are you sure that’s enough?” Sara asked.
“No,” I retorted as I put the first explosive charge in place. “I’ve never sank a ship this size before, so this is a learning experience.”
“That’s reassuring.” Sara said sarcastically.
The explosive charge was a rectangular device about 8 inches long. A magnetic backing allowed it to adhere to the metal bulkhead. I pressed a sequence of buttons in order to arm it, and then set the timer for 30 minutes. That would give Sara and I enough time to get back to the hold and free the slaves. If we time it just right, the boss and his goons will be occupied tending to their flooded engine room while we make our escape to the lone lifeboat.
“Hey, kid, throw me another charge.” I told Sara as I finished setting the first charge, still facing away from her.
When she didn’t respond I started to get annoyed, swinging around to see why she was ignoring me. My eyes widened as I finally understood why Sara was unresponsive. The girl was standing just a few feet away, facing me, but she wasn’t alone. Directly at her back was an older, gray haired man, slightly taller than Sara, who wore dark green coveralls that were filthy from oil stains and pocked with holes. One of his hands was wrapped around Sara’s head, tightly covering her mouth and leaving her unable to move or say a word. The other hand held a revolver, the barrel of which was pressed against the side of her forehead.
I instinctively raised my own weapon in response to the man’s appearance, but it was a useless gesture.
“Put the gun down,” the man said in Italian. “Or your little friend here gets a hole in her skull.”
Sara had tears in her eyes as she stared at me with a pleading look. Being put in a situation like this was EXACTLY why I didn’t want Sara coming along and being put in harm’s way. But this wasn’t the time for an “I told you so.” I didn’t hesitate to throw the pistol to the floor and raise my hands in a surrendering gesture.
“Now, get on your knees, and put your hands behind your head.” The man ordered.
I complied, slowly lowering myself onto my knees and placing both my hands on the back of my head, interlocking my fingers just so.
“And don’t move.” He said as I finished.
The man slowly backed away from me, dragging Sara with him. He brought her to the ladder that we had descended just moments before. He removed his hand from her mouth and reached behind his back, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He took one of the cuffs and slapped it onto Sara’s right wrist and tightening it throughly.
“Ow! That’s too tight!” Sara protested.
“Shut it, girl.” The man said as he took the other cuff and applied it to one of the rungs of the ladder. Sara was now securely cuffed in place, only able to move a few feet around the ladder. The man stepped away from Sara and she seemed to breath a sigh of relief as he pointed his revolver away from her and directly at me.
“No funny business.” The man said as he walked towards me.
“Awww, I was looking forward to having some fun!” I feigned disappointment.
He walked behind me, leaning down with a second pair of handcuffs and snapping one end onto my right wrist. He then pulled both my hands behind my back and slapped the other cuff over my left wrist tightly. I did not struggle. I had to let him feel like he was in control. That was key to surviving situations like this.
Yes, my hands are now cuffed behind my back, severely limiting my range of motion and number of attacks I could use. But this fight is more psychological than physical.
Unrestrained, I’m perceived as the ultimate threat. An unpredictable variable that can’t be controlled. Thus, my enemy is on high alert. The gun is constantly pointed at vital areas of my body. And making a move on someone with an itchy trigger finger is never a good idea.
But when I’m restrained? The dynamic is completely changed. When an enemy becomes a captor they immediately become much more relaxed. They don’t perceive you as a threat anymore. They become arrogant, and arrogance breeds recklessness. Your enemy is most vulnerable when they think YOU are vulnerable.
But you can never allow yourself to become vulnerable.
“I’m not stupid! I know who you are!” The man sneered as he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet.
As he nudged me forward I took note of his movements, especially the position of the revolver. If he was smart he’d have the muzzle of the gun digging into to my lower back, reaffirming the threat of a placing a bullet in my spine.
But this guy was already getting sloppy.
Instead of using it effectively, the gun was now hanging in his hand, pointing slightly downward and away from my body.
“Oh really? Then you should see THIS coming!”
I threw my entire torso backwards and slammed into his own. He stumbled backwards only a few inches, obviously stunned and caught off guard. I heard the gun cock and he started to pull it up into firing position.
He was fast, but I was faster.
For a split second I simply considered using my cuffed hands to grab the gun from him and use it myself, but I figured I’d done enough target practice with my hands tied behind my back for one day already. Instead, I dropped to the floor and kicked my right foot backwards, executing a roundhouse spin aimed at his feet. The attack was successful and completely knocked his legs out from under him. The man went down quick and hard, landing with a giant thud on the metal floor.
“Well, it’s about time you kicked his butt!” Sara yelled from across the room.
“These things take time,” I said to her as I kicked the gun away from the man just as he was reaching for it. “It’s all part of the plan.”
With my left leg I kicked towards the man’s face, but he wasn’t as incapacitated as I’d assumed. He used both of his hands to catch my foot and then yanked it down and to the right. The sudden motion threw me off balance, and with my hands bound behind me I had no way to steady myself, nor could I break my inevitable fall. I landed hard on the floor, right next to the man who seemingly wasn’t skipping a beat. Instead of jumping to his feet to try and gain the upper hand, he simply began attacking me from where he laid. Still dazed by the fall I didn’t expect the first punch, which quickly brought back the splitting headache I had gained from earlier beatdown from Rizzo.
Realizing that a second(and third) Punch was coming towards my face quickly, and with no hands to block, I had only one choice. I brought my right foot up in front of me and kicked the man firmly in the chest. The hit made both of us slide across the slick metal floor in opposite directions away from each other. I quickly shot up into a sitting position just in time to see the man rising to his feet.
“Was THAT part of your plan?” Sara called out again, still handcuffed to the ladder.
The man began charging towards me and I knew I had to act fast.
“No, this is!”
I threw my feet backwards over my head and tucked my body into a roll. Almost effortlessly I was able to pull my cuffed hands down below my butt and position them up under my knees. Stretching my legs out straight above me I passed them through my bound arms, finished the roll and bounced onto my feet.
Within an instant I was standing at my full height, but now my cuffed hands were in front of me instead of behind. The mouths of both Sara and the man went agape at me in astonishment.
I gestured to the handcuffs adorning my wrists.
“Alright, if you just throw me the keys to these things I’ll try not to kill you, grandpa.”
The man laughed.
“No, no, no... How about I put a few more pairs on you? It would be-“
I cut him off.
“Oh, blah, blah, blah! I get it! You want to chain me up and use me for fish bait, just like everyone else on this ship! Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you pal!”
I charged at the man, grabbing him by his shirt and thrusting him backwards into one of the bulkheads. His head and torso met the metal wall with a loud thud and he seemed dazed for a brief moment. This was my chance!
Surely he had to have the keys to the handcuffs in one of his pockets, right? Unfortunately he had more than a few pockets on his person. I had to choose wisely.
I quickly patted at the twin breast pockets on his shirt - empty. I then moved my cuffed hands down to his waist to check his right pants pocket. For a split second I could feel the outline of a metallic key underneath the cloth of his trousers. I quickly reached in and snatched the single key from his pocket. I tried to breathe a sigh of relief, but then I suddenly realized I couldn’t breathe at all. I then realized that the gray haired man had both of his leathery skinned hands clutched firmly around my throat. He had regained his bearings and was fully aware of my ploy.
I instantly brought my knee up and jammed it into his stomach. The blow did not do much to incapacitate him, but it did make him loosen his grasp on my neck. I brought my cuffed hands up and latched onto his, digging my fingernails into his palms as I pried them away from my neck. Finally, I wrestled myself away from the man and turned to run towards Sara. As I did I began struggling with the key, awkwardly trying to fit it into one of the keyholes of my handcuffs. After a moment of fidgeting I managed to slide the key into the chamber, but before I could turn the key to untether my hands, I was hit from behind.
I had failed to notice that the man had given chase and was now right on my heels. He had used his body to slam into mine and trip me up. As I began to fall forwards the key slipped from my grip and went flying across the room. I heard a few faint clangs as it bounced a couple times and slid across the metallic floor of the engine room.
I landed face first on the floor, just managing to bring my bound hands up in front my face to keep me from breaking my nose in the fall. I looked up to see the handcuff key on the floor about 5 feet in front of me. A short crawl would put me within reach of it.
I pulled myself up onto my elbows and began to drag myself towards the key. I tried to kick my legs in an effort to propel myself forward but I quickly realized they would not move. It felt like my legs were filled with led and were extremely heavy.
Then I heard a sound.
An all too familiar sound.
The ratcheting sound of handcuffs locking into place.
I glanced back in horror to see that the older man had one of his arms wrapped around both my legs at the shin, pinning them together.
And in his other hand... another pair of handcuffs.
One of the cuffs had already been tightly clasped around my left ankle. Before I could even react he quickly snapped the other cuff onto my right ankle.
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
_______________________________________
“Soooo, you’re going swimming?”
Sara’s face held a puzzled expression as she watched me unfold the wetsuit and slide one of my slender bare legs into it.
“I might.” I replied in a playful tone.
“I’m guessing there’s not another one of those in there for me?”
I laughed. “Just be glad you still have your clothes. I’m only doing this because I can’t make a pit stop at Macy’s to get a new wardrobe on the way to the engine room,” I said sarcastically as I struggled to squeeze my other leg into the thick wetsuit. “And when I inevitably get tied up and thrown overboard, I’ll be prepared.”
I continued to struggle with the wetsuit, finally pulling it over both legs and up to my waist. The tightness of the rubbery suit made the job extremely hard, and my significantly reduced strength made it even more difficult.
Upon seeing me sit down once again on the box due to exhaustion, Sara came closer to help me finish getting dressed. I slid my arms into the sleeves and she assisted me in pulling it tight to my torso and zipping the back of the wetsuit all the way up to my neck.
The skin-tight suit, which covered my entire body, minus my feet, hands and head, was almost uncomfortably tight, so much so that I was sure it was at least a couple sizes too small for me. Still, I didn’t mind, it was the sexist thing I’d worn in several hours and I was determined to enjoy it.
The wetsuit was two-tone in color; mostly solid black across both legs and most of my torso, and a deep purple covered my arms up to my shoulders and across the top of my chest.
The wetsuit reminded me of the tactical gear myself and other agents wore during more covert ops. On more than a few missions I’ve worn the “stealth suit” as we call it: a spandex body glove that could be worn with knee high or thigh high boots, gloves, a utility belt and various other gear depending on the mission. While the standard issue is color black, it also came in white, grey, brown and camouflage for various environments.
Of course, I have none of that now. No wardrobe. No resources. No backup.
Well, at little backup.
Sara stepped back and looked me up and down.
“Comfortable?” She ask quizzically.
“Not at all,” I said. “But it’s the price you pay to look good.”
“Spoken like a true woman.” Sara added with a laugh.
I reached back into the box and grabbed a black utility belt. I wound it around my slender waist, buckled it and pulled it tight. The rubbery belt featured a handful of pouches, but I currently had nothing useful to carry in them. Still, they might come in handy.
For now only two things were important; the pistol(which still only had one bullet left), which I was carrying, and the explosive charges, which Sara now held.
I started to leave, but then stopped myself.
“Wait, wait... I’m not going barefoot again.”
I reached into the box again to sift through its contents. Finally I found what I was looking for; a pair of black booties, made of the same form fitting material the wetsuit was made from. Their soles were thin but featured adequate treads. Once slipped onto my feet, the top of the booties covered enough of my ankles to overlap with the bottom of my wetsuit, clearly designed to produce a watertight seal.
Now with more strength and coordination, I was able to stroll to the closet door unaided and raised the gun into firing position. I slowly opened the door and the. quickly glanced both ways down the hallway; the coast was clear. I motioned for Sara to stay behind me as we cautiously moved down the corridor.
After winding through a few more passageways I finally began to hear the faint thrum of the ship’s engines.
“We’re getting close.” I told Sara, who was looking more nervous by the minute.
Finally we came to a floor hatchway that was closed. I pointed my pistol down towards the hatch and Sara slowly opened it to reveal a dirty and dimly lit room below us. The seemingly distant rumble of the engines suddenly became a loud roar that echoed down the corridor. I slipped my gun into the belt behind my back and moved towards the ladder that led down into the engine room.
“Stay here,” I told Sara. “Once I make sure it’s safe I’ll call for you.”
Sara nodded her head nervously as I started down the ladder, the rubber soles of my booties tapping on the metal rungs. As soon as I reached the bottom I quickly unholstered my pistol and brought it to bare. I scanned the room as best I could, giving my eyes time to adjust to the significantly less amount of light. I noticed that I was standing in a large open area, surrounded on my left and right by two massive engine turbines that were the source of all the noise. I could see that some of the walls surrounding the turbines slanted down at a sharp angle, signaling that I was on one of the ship’s lowest decks.
Strangely the the engine room seemed empty. I had assumed we would encounter at least one mechanic or engineer responsible keeping the ship’s engines running, but there was no one in sight. It would be difficult to detect footsteps down here with the roar of the engines, making this portion of the mission all the more dangerous. Still, I was going to need my inexperienced partner regardless. She was the one who had the explosives, after all.
“Clear!”, I yelled up through the hatchway in a stern militaristic tone. My training had kicked in without me realizing it, and the callout was something I would I would have said to a fellow trained soldier or agent. But Sara was nothing of the sort. By the time I realized my faux pas Sara was peering down at me through the hatch.
“Um, just... come on down! It’s alright!”
Sara slowly made her way down the ladder, doing her best to hang onto the charges I’d given to her for safekeeping. She had stuffed one of the charges into the top of each of her brown leather boots, and held a third up under her chin. I suppressed a laugh and couldn’t help but grin as she awkwardly hopped down from the ladder, grabbed the explosives and handed them to me.
“What?” Sara asked with a hint of anger.
“Oh, nothing. I’m just... impressed.”
Sara tried(and failed) to hide her embarrassment, but said nothing.
I took the charges from Sara, laying two on a nearby ledge and keeping one in my hand. I walked towards one of the curved walls and ran my hand across the metal surface. The area was in a corner where two perpendicular bulkheads intersected.
“Yeah, this’ll do.” I said to myself.
“What’ll do?” Sara asked mockingly.
“This is an outer bulkhead. Placing all 3 charges on this wall should blow a hole big enough to flood both of these watertight compartments.”
I gestured to an adjacent hatchway leading to the room on the other side of the bulkhead. With both rooms filled with water, and two sunken turbines, the ship would be immobile and in danger of sinking.
“Are you sure that’s enough?” Sara asked.
“No,” I retorted as I put the first explosive charge in place. “I’ve never sank a ship this size before, so this is a learning experience.”
“That’s reassuring.” Sara said sarcastically.
The explosive charge was a rectangular device about 8 inches long. A magnetic backing allowed it to adhere to the metal bulkhead. I pressed a sequence of buttons in order to arm it, and then set the timer for 30 minutes. That would give Sara and I enough time to get back to the hold and free the slaves. If we time it just right, the boss and his goons will be occupied tending to their flooded engine room while we make our escape to the lone lifeboat.
“Hey, kid, throw me another charge.” I told Sara as I finished setting the first charge, still facing away from her.
When she didn’t respond I started to get annoyed, swinging around to see why she was ignoring me. My eyes widened as I finally understood why Sara was unresponsive. The girl was standing just a few feet away, facing me, but she wasn’t alone. Directly at her back was an older, gray haired man, slightly taller than Sara, who wore dark green coveralls that were filthy from oil stains and pocked with holes. One of his hands was wrapped around Sara’s head, tightly covering her mouth and leaving her unable to move or say a word. The other hand held a revolver, the barrel of which was pressed against the side of her forehead.
I instinctively raised my own weapon in response to the man’s appearance, but it was a useless gesture.
“Put the gun down,” the man said in Italian. “Or your little friend here gets a hole in her skull.”
Sara had tears in her eyes as she stared at me with a pleading look. Being put in a situation like this was EXACTLY why I didn’t want Sara coming along and being put in harm’s way. But this wasn’t the time for an “I told you so.” I didn’t hesitate to throw the pistol to the floor and raise my hands in a surrendering gesture.
“Now, get on your knees, and put your hands behind your head.” The man ordered.
I complied, slowly lowering myself onto my knees and placing both my hands on the back of my head, interlocking my fingers just so.
“And don’t move.” He said as I finished.
The man slowly backed away from me, dragging Sara with him. He brought her to the ladder that we had descended just moments before. He removed his hand from her mouth and reached behind his back, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He took one of the cuffs and slapped it onto Sara’s right wrist and tightening it throughly.
“Ow! That’s too tight!” Sara protested.
“Shut it, girl.” The man said as he took the other cuff and applied it to one of the rungs of the ladder. Sara was now securely cuffed in place, only able to move a few feet around the ladder. The man stepped away from Sara and she seemed to breath a sigh of relief as he pointed his revolver away from her and directly at me.
“No funny business.” The man said as he walked towards me.
“Awww, I was looking forward to having some fun!” I feigned disappointment.
He walked behind me, leaning down with a second pair of handcuffs and snapping one end onto my right wrist. He then pulled both my hands behind my back and slapped the other cuff over my left wrist tightly. I did not struggle. I had to let him feel like he was in control. That was key to surviving situations like this.
Yes, my hands are now cuffed behind my back, severely limiting my range of motion and number of attacks I could use. But this fight is more psychological than physical.
Unrestrained, I’m perceived as the ultimate threat. An unpredictable variable that can’t be controlled. Thus, my enemy is on high alert. The gun is constantly pointed at vital areas of my body. And making a move on someone with an itchy trigger finger is never a good idea.
But when I’m restrained? The dynamic is completely changed. When an enemy becomes a captor they immediately become much more relaxed. They don’t perceive you as a threat anymore. They become arrogant, and arrogance breeds recklessness. Your enemy is most vulnerable when they think YOU are vulnerable.
But you can never allow yourself to become vulnerable.
“I’m not stupid! I know who you are!” The man sneered as he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet.
As he nudged me forward I took note of his movements, especially the position of the revolver. If he was smart he’d have the muzzle of the gun digging into to my lower back, reaffirming the threat of a placing a bullet in my spine.
But this guy was already getting sloppy.
Instead of using it effectively, the gun was now hanging in his hand, pointing slightly downward and away from my body.
“Oh really? Then you should see THIS coming!”
I threw my entire torso backwards and slammed into his own. He stumbled backwards only a few inches, obviously stunned and caught off guard. I heard the gun cock and he started to pull it up into firing position.
He was fast, but I was faster.
For a split second I simply considered using my cuffed hands to grab the gun from him and use it myself, but I figured I’d done enough target practice with my hands tied behind my back for one day already. Instead, I dropped to the floor and kicked my right foot backwards, executing a roundhouse spin aimed at his feet. The attack was successful and completely knocked his legs out from under him. The man went down quick and hard, landing with a giant thud on the metal floor.
“Well, it’s about time you kicked his butt!” Sara yelled from across the room.
“These things take time,” I said to her as I kicked the gun away from the man just as he was reaching for it. “It’s all part of the plan.”
With my left leg I kicked towards the man’s face, but he wasn’t as incapacitated as I’d assumed. He used both of his hands to catch my foot and then yanked it down and to the right. The sudden motion threw me off balance, and with my hands bound behind me I had no way to steady myself, nor could I break my inevitable fall. I landed hard on the floor, right next to the man who seemingly wasn’t skipping a beat. Instead of jumping to his feet to try and gain the upper hand, he simply began attacking me from where he laid. Still dazed by the fall I didn’t expect the first punch, which quickly brought back the splitting headache I had gained from earlier beatdown from Rizzo.
Realizing that a second(and third) Punch was coming towards my face quickly, and with no hands to block, I had only one choice. I brought my right foot up in front of me and kicked the man firmly in the chest. The hit made both of us slide across the slick metal floor in opposite directions away from each other. I quickly shot up into a sitting position just in time to see the man rising to his feet.
“Was THAT part of your plan?” Sara called out again, still handcuffed to the ladder.
The man began charging towards me and I knew I had to act fast.
“No, this is!”
I threw my feet backwards over my head and tucked my body into a roll. Almost effortlessly I was able to pull my cuffed hands down below my butt and position them up under my knees. Stretching my legs out straight above me I passed them through my bound arms, finished the roll and bounced onto my feet.
Within an instant I was standing at my full height, but now my cuffed hands were in front of me instead of behind. The mouths of both Sara and the man went agape at me in astonishment.
I gestured to the handcuffs adorning my wrists.
“Alright, if you just throw me the keys to these things I’ll try not to kill you, grandpa.”
The man laughed.
“No, no, no... How about I put a few more pairs on you? It would be-“
I cut him off.
“Oh, blah, blah, blah! I get it! You want to chain me up and use me for fish bait, just like everyone else on this ship! Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you pal!”
I charged at the man, grabbing him by his shirt and thrusting him backwards into one of the bulkheads. His head and torso met the metal wall with a loud thud and he seemed dazed for a brief moment. This was my chance!
Surely he had to have the keys to the handcuffs in one of his pockets, right? Unfortunately he had more than a few pockets on his person. I had to choose wisely.
I quickly patted at the twin breast pockets on his shirt - empty. I then moved my cuffed hands down to his waist to check his right pants pocket. For a split second I could feel the outline of a metallic key underneath the cloth of his trousers. I quickly reached in and snatched the single key from his pocket. I tried to breathe a sigh of relief, but then I suddenly realized I couldn’t breathe at all. I then realized that the gray haired man had both of his leathery skinned hands clutched firmly around my throat. He had regained his bearings and was fully aware of my ploy.
I instantly brought my knee up and jammed it into his stomach. The blow did not do much to incapacitate him, but it did make him loosen his grasp on my neck. I brought my cuffed hands up and latched onto his, digging my fingernails into his palms as I pried them away from my neck. Finally, I wrestled myself away from the man and turned to run towards Sara. As I did I began struggling with the key, awkwardly trying to fit it into one of the keyholes of my handcuffs. After a moment of fidgeting I managed to slide the key into the chamber, but before I could turn the key to untether my hands, I was hit from behind.
I had failed to notice that the man had given chase and was now right on my heels. He had used his body to slam into mine and trip me up. As I began to fall forwards the key slipped from my grip and went flying across the room. I heard a few faint clangs as it bounced a couple times and slid across the metallic floor of the engine room.
I landed face first on the floor, just managing to bring my bound hands up in front my face to keep me from breaking my nose in the fall. I looked up to see the handcuff key on the floor about 5 feet in front of me. A short crawl would put me within reach of it.
I pulled myself up onto my elbows and began to drag myself towards the key. I tried to kick my legs in an effort to propel myself forward but I quickly realized they would not move. It felt like my legs were filled with led and were extremely heavy.
Then I heard a sound.
An all too familiar sound.
The ratcheting sound of handcuffs locking into place.
I glanced back in horror to see that the older man had one of his arms wrapped around both my legs at the shin, pinning them together.
And in his other hand... another pair of handcuffs.
One of the cuffs had already been tightly clasped around my left ankle. Before I could even react he quickly snapped the other cuff onto my right ankle.
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
I’m excited to see what comes next 
Just a college student who loves socks, rope, and duct tape!
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TightsBound
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 589
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: CT, USA
Just when we were getting worried that our fearless heroine/damsel might easily make it out of this scuffle, you threw us a very pleasant surprise. I can’t wait to see what happens next!
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BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 121
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
- Contact:
Surprise bondage is the best bondage.
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BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 121
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
- Contact:
Chapter Fourteen: "The Key Issue"
_______________________________
“How many pairs of handcuffs do you have?”
“Not enough.” The man said slyly.
While I couldn’t see him, I could feel his presence as he stood over me while I lay flat on the floor, still on my stomach. The handcuff key was still well out of reach, and my ankles were now cuffed together in addition to my wrists. Fighting back would now be much more difficult, but not impossible.
“The boss has been looking for you, Agent 38,” The man began to taunt. “How nice of you to come pay me a visit so we could have some... bonding time.”
I craned my head around to look at him and rolled my eyes again.
“Getting tied up for the 5th time in one day, I can handle. But bad puns? Ugh. Just put me out of my misery.”
The man continued on with his evil monologue. Something about chaining me up further. Maybe a bit of world domination throw in too. I didn’t much care. My attention had been diverted elsewhere, specifically across the room towards the ladder and hatchway where we entered earlier.
Amidst my throwdown fight / bondage game with our new friend, I’d completely forgotten about Sara. The sharply dressed Brit had been left handcuffed to the ladder all this time, and I guess I’d just assumed she was still there helplessly awaiting my help.
Boy was I wrong.
What I’d failed to notice is that the while the handcuff key had landed on the floor far beyond my own reach, it had actually ended up fairly close to where Sara was standing... close enough that the girl had lowered herself to the floor, as far as her cuffed hand would allow, and was stretching out with her foot to try and reach the key.
After some significant stretching and wincing the toe of her brown leather boot could finally touch the tiny key. Before long she would be able to slide the key toward her and put it within reach of her free hand. For a brief moment I was enthralled with her struggle and was rooting for her silently. Unfortunately I wasn’t the only one who noticed her progress.
“Hey! What are you doing?” The man yelled at Sara as he started towards her. Sara looked up, and then frantically reached for the key.
While Sara would eventually be able to free herself, there was no way she could do it before he got to her. I had to do something.
Just as his legs passed by my head I reached out and grabbed his left foot. Wrapping my handcuff chain around his ankle I held on tight and yanked his foot towards me. The action didn’t make him trip and fall like I had hoped, but it did successfully divert his attention away from Sara for a moment
The man tried to shake me off but it wasn’t working. He then used his other foot to kick me in the stomach, which successfully took the wind out of me. It was just enough to make me loose my grip on his leg. He shook his foot much harder this time and finally rid himself of the human ball & chain that was my body. I tumbled backwards across the metal floor, rolling in the opposite direction that I’d been crawling... and away from Sara.
I finally came to a stop and lifted my head in the direction of where Sara was chained. She was still fiddling with the handcuff key, and the gray haired man was closing on her fast.
With my feet shackled tightly together I knew no amount of crawling or hopping would get me to Sara in time to save her. But simply laying here watching the man chain up the poor girl further was also out of the question. I struggled to pull myself up into a kneeling position. The handcuffs clanked against the metal floor and the cuffs squeaked as the dug into the rubbery fabric of my wetsuit around my wrists and ankles. I glanced around desperately looking for something, anything that might be useful, but I saw nothing. All I could do was look on in horror as Sara was... being a bad ass?
To my shock, when I looked back towards where Sara had been standing near the ladder, she was gone. Like a blur Sara was now running across the engine room, one of the handcuffs still fastened to her wrist, while the other was now unlocked and dangling free. She had managed get ahold of the handcuff key and release herself in record time, much to the chagrin of our captor.
“Come back here!” He yelled in frustration as Sara swiftly moved towards one of the turbines on the left side of the room.
She suddenly stopped and knelt down to grab something off the floor that I couldn’t see. When she rose to her full height she was now wielding a heavy, one meter long piece of metal pipe. The man came rushing up behind her in an attempt to tackle her, but Sara quickly spun around to meet him face to face. She swung her new weapon hard towards him and he used his hand to block the blow. The man looked at her with a satisfied grin, thinking he’d successfully thwarted her attack. In actuality, it was only a distraction.
Sara swung her booted foot up in a blur, catching the man between his legs. The guy could obviously take a beating, but unfortunately for him he had the pivotal weakness that every male possesses, and Sara took full advantage of it.
The man cried out in pain, his hands reaching for his wounded crotch area. Sara then took up her pipe once again, winding up and swinging towards the man’s head. With a loud metallic thump, the pipe met its mark and the now unconscious man crumpled to the floor.
For the second time today Sara had managed to vanquish an enemy I had failed to. For a brief moment I wondered if I was finally getting a bit rusty at this job. Or perhaps Sara was quickly becoming prime Agent material.
Sara seemed as shocked as I was about what she had done. She stood their for a long moment breathing hard and staring at the man as he lay on the floor in a heap.
“Did I... really do that?” She said in between gasping for air.
“I see I’m not the only one who’s surprised.” I said playfully.
Her head snapped towards me, as if she had forgotten I was even there.
“Bloody hell,” she said, her voice quivering. “I’ve never done anything like that before in my life.”
“Well you coulda fooled me,” I said with a bit of a chuckle. “You’ve got good instincts, kid.”
“Kid” I repeated in my mind. I had to remind myself to stop calling her that. Not only was it slightly demeaning, it didn’t fit her anymore. I barely knew Sara, having only met her just a few short hours ago. Yet over the course of our extremely brief friendship(if you could even call it that), she had saved my life. Twice.
I knew next to nothing about this girl, and most of what I “knew” were really just assumptions on my part. I had assumed she came from a normal, mundane life. Perhaps she was young enough to be in high school or college, or old enough to be married with kids(or both). I tried to imagine what a normal day felt like to her, and how much today contrasted against it.
My life has been chaotic for so long that I’m not even sure I know what “normal” is anymore. I’ve been on so many adventures, and misadventures over the years that even the highest of stakes, or the strictest of bondage, seems routine to me.
But Sara had been through so much in such a short time. Being kidnapped, chained up, threatened and attacked, all while having the courage and intuition to escape and fight back all on her own. She had just fought for her life, and survived. I would say I can’t imagine how she must feel, but I just might be one of the few people who does.
After a few moments Sara finally broke the silence.
“He’s not...” she searched for the words. “...Dead, is he?”
“No, but when he wakes up he’s going to wish he was.” I said.
Jokes were my go-to coping mechanism for dealing with situations like this, and I hoped Sara would take comfort in the humor. Thankfully a thin smile spread across her face, signally that I had chosen the right words. The joke had successfully snapped Sara out of her emotion-filled trance.
"Wait, one last thing." Sara said, seemingly to herself.
She used the handcuff key to finally unclasp the the single cuff from her wrist, and then proceeded ti grabbed one of the man's arms and slap the same cuff on his wrist. Ratcheting the cuff tightly, she finished by pulling the cuffs, and his wrist with them, to a nearby metal handle on one of the turbines. She snapped the cuff around the handle, effectively immobilizing the man, just as he had done to Sara just a few minutes prior. It seemed the poetic justice was not lost on the girl and she spent a few seconds admiring her handiwork.
I attempted to shift my weight off my knees and move onto my side, but with my hands cuffed it made moving difficult. Instead of gracefully transferring myself into a more comfortable position I pathetically(and painfully) fell over in a loud thud. Sara looked at me again with concern.
“Are you alright?” She asked.
“I feel like I should be asking you that question.”
“Well, I just knocked someone out cold for the first time in my life.”
“I’m thinking it might not be your last.” I said with a sly smile.
“Y’know, I did want to be a schoolteacher until I found out secret agent was a possible career choice.” She returned the smile and began to walk towards me. “You think your boss hiring?”
I chuckled in response.
“You can have it, girl! There’ll be an opening soon, ‘cause after this mission I’m retiring.”
We both laughed for a brief moment, but stopped as soon as we heard a faint sound coming from an adjacent doorway.
“Uh oh.” I suddenly said, all sarcasm gone.
“Bloody hell,” Sara quietly swore. “We’re not alone.”
We both immediately recognized the sound of muffled footsteps and voices echoing through a door that presumably led to another portion of the engine room. Perhaps the rest of missing engineers were finally returning? I didn’t have time to wonder about it. I needed to get out of these handcuffs. Fast.
“They’re coming! Throw me the key!”
As soon as the words escaped my lips I knew I’d made a huge mistake. At first I thought Sara might not take me so literally, but no. Before I even had a chance to clarify my request the key was already in the air. Flying in what seemed like slow motion, I saw it coming from across the room. Admittedly, Sara’s throw was good, albeit a bit high, but my catch was awful. The key rocketed towards me, and I raised my cuffed hands up to catch it. The key reached the tip of my outstretched fingers, then bounced off going in a completely different direction. I watched in horror as the key clattered to the floor, slid across the metallic surface and dropped into a nearby vent in the floor.
Sara’s face turned white.
“Oops.”
_______________________________
“How many pairs of handcuffs do you have?”
“Not enough.” The man said slyly.
While I couldn’t see him, I could feel his presence as he stood over me while I lay flat on the floor, still on my stomach. The handcuff key was still well out of reach, and my ankles were now cuffed together in addition to my wrists. Fighting back would now be much more difficult, but not impossible.
“The boss has been looking for you, Agent 38,” The man began to taunt. “How nice of you to come pay me a visit so we could have some... bonding time.”
I craned my head around to look at him and rolled my eyes again.
“Getting tied up for the 5th time in one day, I can handle. But bad puns? Ugh. Just put me out of my misery.”
The man continued on with his evil monologue. Something about chaining me up further. Maybe a bit of world domination throw in too. I didn’t much care. My attention had been diverted elsewhere, specifically across the room towards the ladder and hatchway where we entered earlier.
Amidst my throwdown fight / bondage game with our new friend, I’d completely forgotten about Sara. The sharply dressed Brit had been left handcuffed to the ladder all this time, and I guess I’d just assumed she was still there helplessly awaiting my help.
Boy was I wrong.
What I’d failed to notice is that the while the handcuff key had landed on the floor far beyond my own reach, it had actually ended up fairly close to where Sara was standing... close enough that the girl had lowered herself to the floor, as far as her cuffed hand would allow, and was stretching out with her foot to try and reach the key.
After some significant stretching and wincing the toe of her brown leather boot could finally touch the tiny key. Before long she would be able to slide the key toward her and put it within reach of her free hand. For a brief moment I was enthralled with her struggle and was rooting for her silently. Unfortunately I wasn’t the only one who noticed her progress.
“Hey! What are you doing?” The man yelled at Sara as he started towards her. Sara looked up, and then frantically reached for the key.
While Sara would eventually be able to free herself, there was no way she could do it before he got to her. I had to do something.
Just as his legs passed by my head I reached out and grabbed his left foot. Wrapping my handcuff chain around his ankle I held on tight and yanked his foot towards me. The action didn’t make him trip and fall like I had hoped, but it did successfully divert his attention away from Sara for a moment
The man tried to shake me off but it wasn’t working. He then used his other foot to kick me in the stomach, which successfully took the wind out of me. It was just enough to make me loose my grip on his leg. He shook his foot much harder this time and finally rid himself of the human ball & chain that was my body. I tumbled backwards across the metal floor, rolling in the opposite direction that I’d been crawling... and away from Sara.
I finally came to a stop and lifted my head in the direction of where Sara was chained. She was still fiddling with the handcuff key, and the gray haired man was closing on her fast.
With my feet shackled tightly together I knew no amount of crawling or hopping would get me to Sara in time to save her. But simply laying here watching the man chain up the poor girl further was also out of the question. I struggled to pull myself up into a kneeling position. The handcuffs clanked against the metal floor and the cuffs squeaked as the dug into the rubbery fabric of my wetsuit around my wrists and ankles. I glanced around desperately looking for something, anything that might be useful, but I saw nothing. All I could do was look on in horror as Sara was... being a bad ass?
To my shock, when I looked back towards where Sara had been standing near the ladder, she was gone. Like a blur Sara was now running across the engine room, one of the handcuffs still fastened to her wrist, while the other was now unlocked and dangling free. She had managed get ahold of the handcuff key and release herself in record time, much to the chagrin of our captor.
“Come back here!” He yelled in frustration as Sara swiftly moved towards one of the turbines on the left side of the room.
She suddenly stopped and knelt down to grab something off the floor that I couldn’t see. When she rose to her full height she was now wielding a heavy, one meter long piece of metal pipe. The man came rushing up behind her in an attempt to tackle her, but Sara quickly spun around to meet him face to face. She swung her new weapon hard towards him and he used his hand to block the blow. The man looked at her with a satisfied grin, thinking he’d successfully thwarted her attack. In actuality, it was only a distraction.
Sara swung her booted foot up in a blur, catching the man between his legs. The guy could obviously take a beating, but unfortunately for him he had the pivotal weakness that every male possesses, and Sara took full advantage of it.
The man cried out in pain, his hands reaching for his wounded crotch area. Sara then took up her pipe once again, winding up and swinging towards the man’s head. With a loud metallic thump, the pipe met its mark and the now unconscious man crumpled to the floor.
For the second time today Sara had managed to vanquish an enemy I had failed to. For a brief moment I wondered if I was finally getting a bit rusty at this job. Or perhaps Sara was quickly becoming prime Agent material.
Sara seemed as shocked as I was about what she had done. She stood their for a long moment breathing hard and staring at the man as he lay on the floor in a heap.
“Did I... really do that?” She said in between gasping for air.
“I see I’m not the only one who’s surprised.” I said playfully.
Her head snapped towards me, as if she had forgotten I was even there.
“Bloody hell,” she said, her voice quivering. “I’ve never done anything like that before in my life.”
“Well you coulda fooled me,” I said with a bit of a chuckle. “You’ve got good instincts, kid.”
“Kid” I repeated in my mind. I had to remind myself to stop calling her that. Not only was it slightly demeaning, it didn’t fit her anymore. I barely knew Sara, having only met her just a few short hours ago. Yet over the course of our extremely brief friendship(if you could even call it that), she had saved my life. Twice.
I knew next to nothing about this girl, and most of what I “knew” were really just assumptions on my part. I had assumed she came from a normal, mundane life. Perhaps she was young enough to be in high school or college, or old enough to be married with kids(or both). I tried to imagine what a normal day felt like to her, and how much today contrasted against it.
My life has been chaotic for so long that I’m not even sure I know what “normal” is anymore. I’ve been on so many adventures, and misadventures over the years that even the highest of stakes, or the strictest of bondage, seems routine to me.
But Sara had been through so much in such a short time. Being kidnapped, chained up, threatened and attacked, all while having the courage and intuition to escape and fight back all on her own. She had just fought for her life, and survived. I would say I can’t imagine how she must feel, but I just might be one of the few people who does.
After a few moments Sara finally broke the silence.
“He’s not...” she searched for the words. “...Dead, is he?”
“No, but when he wakes up he’s going to wish he was.” I said.
Jokes were my go-to coping mechanism for dealing with situations like this, and I hoped Sara would take comfort in the humor. Thankfully a thin smile spread across her face, signally that I had chosen the right words. The joke had successfully snapped Sara out of her emotion-filled trance.
"Wait, one last thing." Sara said, seemingly to herself.
She used the handcuff key to finally unclasp the the single cuff from her wrist, and then proceeded ti grabbed one of the man's arms and slap the same cuff on his wrist. Ratcheting the cuff tightly, she finished by pulling the cuffs, and his wrist with them, to a nearby metal handle on one of the turbines. She snapped the cuff around the handle, effectively immobilizing the man, just as he had done to Sara just a few minutes prior. It seemed the poetic justice was not lost on the girl and she spent a few seconds admiring her handiwork.
I attempted to shift my weight off my knees and move onto my side, but with my hands cuffed it made moving difficult. Instead of gracefully transferring myself into a more comfortable position I pathetically(and painfully) fell over in a loud thud. Sara looked at me again with concern.
“Are you alright?” She asked.
“I feel like I should be asking you that question.”
“Well, I just knocked someone out cold for the first time in my life.”
“I’m thinking it might not be your last.” I said with a sly smile.
“Y’know, I did want to be a schoolteacher until I found out secret agent was a possible career choice.” She returned the smile and began to walk towards me. “You think your boss hiring?”
I chuckled in response.
“You can have it, girl! There’ll be an opening soon, ‘cause after this mission I’m retiring.”
We both laughed for a brief moment, but stopped as soon as we heard a faint sound coming from an adjacent doorway.
“Uh oh.” I suddenly said, all sarcasm gone.
“Bloody hell,” Sara quietly swore. “We’re not alone.”
We both immediately recognized the sound of muffled footsteps and voices echoing through a door that presumably led to another portion of the engine room. Perhaps the rest of missing engineers were finally returning? I didn’t have time to wonder about it. I needed to get out of these handcuffs. Fast.
“They’re coming! Throw me the key!”
As soon as the words escaped my lips I knew I’d made a huge mistake. At first I thought Sara might not take me so literally, but no. Before I even had a chance to clarify my request the key was already in the air. Flying in what seemed like slow motion, I saw it coming from across the room. Admittedly, Sara’s throw was good, albeit a bit high, but my catch was awful. The key rocketed towards me, and I raised my cuffed hands up to catch it. The key reached the tip of my outstretched fingers, then bounced off going in a completely different direction. I watched in horror as the key clattered to the floor, slid across the metallic surface and dropped into a nearby vent in the floor.
Sara’s face turned white.
“Oops.”
-
BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 121
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
- Contact:
Hey guys!
Really quick I just wanted to apologize for my extended absence recently. Along with the above chapter I also posted the first part of my new "Choose Your Own DID Adventure" series(which you can find here: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=3551).
Any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated.
Oh, and I hope to be back here on the forum writing and reading(and commenting) more in the near future.
Thank you!!
Really quick I just wanted to apologize for my extended absence recently. Along with the above chapter I also posted the first part of my new "Choose Your Own DID Adventure" series(which you can find here: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=3551).
Any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated.
Oh, and I hope to be back here on the forum writing and reading(and commenting) more in the near future.
Thank you!!
Love this story!! Can’t wait to read more
Just a college student who loves socks, rope, and duct tape!
-
BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 121
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
- Contact:
-
BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 121
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
- Contact:
Chapter Fifteen: "Damsel In Defense"
_______________________________
“What do we do?” Sara exclaimed.
I quickly regained my coordination and managed to hop up onto my feet. The cuffs secured to my ankles kept my feet only a few centimeters apart, making walking impossible, and keeping my balance extremely difficult. But I managed.
“‘We’ aren’t doing anything,” I said with a smirk. “Since you’re obviously way more cut out for this job than I am, you’re going to be doing the heavy lifting this time.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sara said, obviously not actually wanting the answer.
“Have you ever activated a bomb before?”
“You can’t be serious...”
“Believe me, I never... Well, rarely joke about these things,” I said as Sara stared at me in disbelief. “Look, all you have to do is arm those two other charges, and reset the timer on the one I already placed.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding! I have no idea how to do that!”
“It’s a good thing I know you’re a fast learner!”
“But... Wait, what are you gonna do?”
“I’m going to distract them long enough for you to get the job done. You better get to work!”
It was an insane plan, I knew. But I wasn’t about to let my lack of confidence show through. If Sara believed that I believed she could do it... maybe she could actually do it? It didn’t really matter. We were officially out of options. Besides, Sara had already proven her worth tenfold on this little adventure of ours. She was capable of more than she knew. Perhaps even more than I knew.
Speaking of Sara, the girl was noticeably at a loss for words. She stammered for a moment, surely wanting to berate me for coming up with the worst plan imaginable(which it was). But just before she could put the words to her lips, a loud metallic thud echoed through the chamber. We both instantly knew it was the hatchway being opened just a few meters away. Sara dove back towards the explosive hanging on the wall, ducking behind some steel drums nearby.
“Stick to the plan.” I whispered as she moved away.
“I’m going to kill you.” She whispered back.
“Not if they kill me first.” I smiled.
“Hey!” A booming female voice called out. “Who the hell are you?”
The voice came from a tall figure that approached me, the light of the hallway behind obscured her face with glare. She was followed closely by three others, what appeared to be two men and another woman. As they came closer I could make out their features and get a good look at the 4 individuals that were about to undoubtedly kick my ass.
The taller woman in the lead was of average build, and was obviously the oldest of the group with her graying black hair. She was dressed in burnt orange coveralls that were covered in oily stains and pocked with holes.
To her left was a younger, blonde haired woman who was somewhat shorter and thinner than her commander. She wore a brown and black flannel shirt that was sloppily tucked into a pair of faded blue jeans and some light brown work boots on her feet. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that fell across her left shoulder.
To her right was a man of similar stature and age, with red hair and glasses. He wore a t-shirt that was once bright white, but was now almost black with grease and soot. He also wore a pair of grey pants and sneakers.
Behind all of them was, from what I could tell, a mountain. Standing head and shoulders above the rest of his comrades, the man was as muscle bound and burly as they come(imagine if Dwayne Johnson and the Hulk had a baby). He he had brown scraggly hair and a beard to match. He wore a single pair of dirty, ripped overalls that barely fit him with no shirt underneath, revealing his torso that was shining with sweat. I knew this one would be my biggest problem, but not my only problem.
While none of them carried actual weapons, the lead woman held a large red wrench, that could certainly deal some damage if used effectively:
“Oh, hey guys!” I said with as much mock glee I could muster. “Any of you have a spare handcuff key you could lend me? I’m kinda...”
“I asked you a question,” the tall woman interrupted angrily. “Who are you? How did you get in here?”
“Are you sure you want to know? Because it’s kind of a long story.”
“Try me.” She said, crossing her arms.
“Well, where do I start?,” I asked myself, pulling my handcuffed hands to my temple in a thinking motion. “Oh, yeah. I’m Agent 38. Your boss tied me up and brought me on board. I escaped, multiple times I might add, and now you just interrupted me in the middle of trying to blow a hole in this ship’s hull and sink it.”
All at once, all four pairs of eyes widened, glancing at one another in bewilderment.
“And that was the abridged version.” I said with a wink.
“Let’s take her to see the boss.” The tall woman said as she stepped toward me. The rest of her crew moved to follow as she approached me, moving her hand to try and grab my arm. I quickly snatched her arm, yanked the woman towards me, spun her around and wrapped my arm around her neck. Her heavy wrench fell to the floor in a loud clank and I now had the tall woman pinned in a headlock. This would give me a few seconds to breathe and think about my next move, as well as buy more time for Sara. I glanced over to where the girl was working furiously while still trying not to be noticed by our new friends. She seemed to be making progress, but it could just be wishful thinking on my part. Regardless, she would need all the time I could give her.
“One more step and I snap her neck,” dropping the happy-go-lucky tone from earlier and adopting a stern tone. The three goons continued to gawk at, perhaps in shock that their fearless leader had been disarmed by someone who was shackled hand and foot.
“Now, I’m gonna ask again... does anybody have a handcuff key?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.
“You think you can escape?”, the tall woman said, ignoring my question. “You’re going to die down here.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you, sweetie, but I’m-“
Before I could finish that sentence everything turned into a blur, and the next few seconds seemed to last for an eternity.
First, I’d fail to notice that my hostage had managed to slip one of her leg back between mine, using her foot to hook the handcuff chain between my ankles. She then thrust her foot forward, pulling my feet out from under me. While it successfully made me lose my balance, I still kept my arm securely around the woman’s neck. If I was going down, she was coming with me.
I landed flat on my back, and the woman landed hard on top of me. The jolt from suddenly becoming a human pancake did cause me to loose my grip on her and she managed to wriggle free. Instead of continuing to tussle with her I rolled away, reaching for the wrench she had dropped just seconds ago. I latched onto the tool and swung it backwards in a twirl. The wrench caught her in the side of the head just as she was trying to tackle me. Her body instantly went limp and she fell over onto the floor. I didn’t have to look back towards the rest of the goons to know they were coming for me, fully ready for a fight.
And, thankfully, so was I.
I tucked myself into a ball and rolled backwards, using the momentum to spring back up onto my feet. I landed just in time to see all three of them charging towards me. I pounced towards them, meeting the smaller man first. I latched onto him with my hands, turning my entire body horizontally, and allowed my legs to swiftly slide past him. What the red haired man didn’t realize is that I was merely using his body to launch an attack on his partner.
My feet continued on, flying through the air and finally finding their mark; the face of the blonde haired woman. The impact threw her backwards, sending the small woman sprawling on the floor, and straight into the path of the hulking mass of a man behind her. The massive figure stumbled over the woman’s now unconscious body and tumbled to the floor in a heap.
As all that was happening behind us, I turned my attention back to the man I’d latched onto, who still hadn’t fully realize what was happening. I swung my whole body around to his back, then threw my legs up over his head. Before he knew it my feet were on either side of his head, and the handcuff chain between my ankles was now digging into his throat. I then let myself fall, landing in a handstand and yanking the man backwards, choking him all the way. I swung him hard into the metal floor, and once he was down it was obvious he wasn’t getting up anytime soon.
I quickly scrambled to my feet, but in reality it wasn’t that quick. Trying do anything with your hands and feet bound together is beyond difficult. But, yet, in less than ten seconds I’d successfully brought down three of my four attackers. So maybe I wasn’t as rusty as I thought?
I quickly looked towards Sara who was... actually making progress. The two other charges had been placed on the wall and she was fiddling with the keypad on one of them. She seemed less frantic and more determined now. Perhaps my display of ass kicking(and not getting my ass kicked) had encouraged her. Regardless, she had yet to blow all of us up yet, so I considered that a win.
I then turned my attention to the single remaining goon, who was finally rising to his feet after faceplanting just moments ago. For a second I fully expecting this hulk to actually turn green as his face reflected the boiling rage inside him.
“You’re dead, bitch.” He snarled as he hobbled towards me.
“It’s nothing personal, big guy.” I said as I shuffled my feet backwards as best I could. I knew I’d gotten extremely lucky with my first three takedowns, and something told me my luck just ran out. Under “normal” circumstances this would be a a piece of cake. He was big, slow, and probably dumb. I was fast, small and significantly less dumb. Being agile and precise was my biggest advantage against such a brute, but this was different. Basic movements were pretty much rendered impossible by handcuffs secured around my ankles. And the cuffs on my wrists made even the most simple offensive and defensive motions more complicated. Thankfully, I had been prepared for such a scenario.
Basic training for Agents such as myself included rigorous sessions where we were forced to fight while in bondage. Once I handily defeated Agent 23 in a fight where we were both blindfolded with our hands tied behind our backs. Our instructors knew that being captured and trussed up was one of the main obstacles every Agent would have to endure in order to complete a mission. Of course, my current predicament was a bit more intense than I’d anticipated, especially considering my current opponent.
The gigantic man let out a roar like a wild animal and charged towards me. I waited for a split second as he approached, less wanting to draw him in for an attack, but more so just trying to figure out which direction to jump. I finally came up with a plan just a heartbeat before he plowed into me. I leaped straight up into the air and spun around as he passed under me. Just barely clearing the top of his head I began to fall back towards the floor, but in the process, I threw my arms over his shoulders and wrapped them around his neck. The thin chain binding my handcuffs was now under his chin, and as he attempted to shrug me off it only made it worse for himself as the metal chain slid backwards and was thrust into his windpipe.
For a half second I thought it was actually working. I was managing to hang on, despite the man thrashing and bucking like a raging bull. Within a few seconds, without proper oxygen flow, he would wear himself down and pass out. But, as always, it wasn’t that simple.
Quickly he grabbed both my hands with his own monstrously sized hands. At first I thought he might try to throw me off, but then he surprised me.
He suddenly began pulling my cuffed hands in opposite directions. I winced and yelped as the metal cuffs dug into my wrists due to the immense pressure. Just when the pain became almost unbearable, and I thought he might actually break both my wrists, I heard a soft clink and the pressure was released. I fell backwards onto floor, landing in a sprawled position just behind the man. My head had slammed down hard on the metal surface and my ears were ringing. It took me a second to realize that my hands were now no longer bound in front of me, but we’re both laying at my side, my arms spread wide across the floor. The handcuffs were still secured around each of my wrists, but the chain between them... had been broken.
For a millisecond I wanted to kiss the giant fool for doing me the favor of freeing my hands, and without a handcuff key no less. But I didn’t have a chance to thank him, or even enjoy my (partial) freedom. Before I knew it the muscle bound wackjob was fiercely bearing down on me, fists blazing. I brought both my hands back together to catch a fast moving punch headed straight for my face and it took all my strength to hold back the heavy fist. While doing that I’d forgotten to be on the lookout for his other hand. Before I could react he used his free hand to grab me by the neck and hoisted me upward. Soon I was now in the air, my still-cuffed feet dangling several centimeters off the floor while I remained at eye level with my hulking friend. I used my hands to clutch his outstretched arm as he applied more pressure to my throat. The man just continued to stare at me, his face twisted in a look of utter disgust. His grip was so tight it felt as if he could break my neck without any effort.
I took another glancing look towards where I’d last seen Sara and... she was gone. Had she finished setting the explosions? Was she hiding just out of sight? If something did happen to me I could only hope that she could somehow complete the mission on her own.
Just when I began to assume he was going to finish me off then and there, he surprised yet again. Still grasping me by the neck, he lifted his arm and threw my over his shoulder. I flew through the air and tumbled to the floor a couple meters away. Thankfully, with my now untethered arms, I was able to (mostly) break my fall. Still, being deprived of oxygen for so long left me clutching my throat and gasping for air as soon as I hit the ground. Once I could finally breathe normally and see straight I frantically scanned the room. Around me we’re the unconscious bodies of the other henchmen I’d dispatched. And walking towards me, just mere steps away with a long chain in one hand, and length of rope in the other, was the hulking man.
And still no Sara.
I’ll admit that I’m little disappointed that the seemingly fearless young woman hadn’t attempted to come to my rescue, as she had more than once before. But I also knew there was nothing she could do to help me. And the best thing Sara could do right now is escape this place and not worry about me.
I noticed that the length of chain the man was carrying was no ordinary chain. The end of the chain had a large hook that featured a locking clasp. The chain was hanging behind him, and I could see that it was connected to a device near the ceiling of the engine room. It was a winch, I recognized, and it rode along a track that was affixed to one of the metal beams that ran across the engine room above our heads. I assumed it was normally used to pick up and move various pieces of heavy tools and machinery. Now, I realized, it was going to be holding... me.
With the increased mobility of my arms I was able to crawl much easier and faster across the floor, but I wasn’t fast enough. The man easily caught up to me and grabbed onto my cuffed ankles, dragging me backwards.
“You ain’t goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.” The gargantuan man said.
“Hey, I only let guys call me ‘sweetheart’ after they’ve taken me out for for dinner and a movie.”
“Oh, don’t worry, baby. I’ll show you a good time.”
He snapped the hook over the chain binding my feet together, then, pushing a button on a remote that also hung by a wire from the wench, the chain began to move upward. I desperately reached for the hook, trying to disconnect myself from the chain, but it was no use. Within seconds my feet were rising into the air, out of reach of my fingers, and pretty soon my entire body was lifted off the floor.
I quickly became dizzy and disoriented as I swayed and spun around upside down, just centimeters off the floor. My incredible hulk friend finally came into view, standing just in front of me and trying to be as menacing as possible. He had pulled me up just high enough off the floor that I my face was now hanging at his waist level. He bent down to my level, bringing his face close to mine.
“Having fun yet?” He asked with a smirk on his face. I decided to respond him, not with words, but with a quick and solid punch to his big dumb face.
“Yeah, that was a lot of fun.” I said, mimicking his smirk. The man wiped a stream of blood from his nose as his earlier smile turned into teeth gritting snarl.
“You’re going to regret that.” The man said, snatching the hand I’d used to bloody him. He rose to his full height again and went for my other arm. Although I fought him all the way, he won the battle easy. He spun me around and placed both hands behind my back.
Apparently having free hands was only a temporary privilege for me.
He took out the length of rope he’d been carrying. Instead of simply tying my hands together, he looped the rope through the broken handcuffs that were still attached to my wrists. Pulling the rope tight and knotting it brought the cuffs even closer than they’d been before, and even more securely binding my wrists together behind my back. He then took the excess rope and wound it around my waist a couple times, passing it over my cuffed wrists and applying more knots to the rope. This kept hands tightly pinned to my back, and ensuring I wouldn’t be doing any more punching for a while.
“You really know how to make a girl feel special.” I said.
“And you talk too damn much!” He angrily replied as he reached for something in his back pocket, pulling out a dirty white rag.
“Well, you could have just told me to shut ummpphhh.” I said just as he shoved the filthy cloth into my mouth, sliding it between my teeth, and tying off the ends of it behind my head, thus forcing me to save all the terrible jokes I’d come up with for later.
He then reached for the winch’s remote and raised me higher into the air. I was now hanging as high as the winch would allow me to be lifted, leaving me dangling several meters off the floor of the engine room. Now, I’m not exactly afraid of heights, but knowing I had no way to catch myself if I did fall was incredibly unnerving.
At such an altitude I was given the best view yet of the engine room’s layout. In front of me was the steel bulkhead where the the explosive charges had been placed, and It was the last place I’d seen Sara. To my right was one of the massive engine turbines. To my left was another turbine, but it was several meters over, separated from the main walkway by a deep pit that was surrounded by a metal railing. Before I’d somehow failed to notice what was inside the pit, down below the walkway, but now I had a bird’s eye view.
There, approximately 3 meters wide, facing up from inside the pit, was a giant fan. The blades were made of sharp steel, perhaps shiny at one time, but were now dirty and rusty from years of use. The fan, I now realized, had been the source of much of the deafening noise inside the engine room. The blades made a loud buzzing noise that filled the room, and they spun so fast they could barely be seen. If someone were to get close to the spinning bits of metal, or even fall into them, they would surely be cut to pieces.
It was then that I found myself staring straight down at the enormous fan, failing to realize that the winch keeping me aloft was actually moving. Using his remote from the ground, my hulking boyfriend had now positioned me directly over the spinning blades.
“While killing you with my bare hands would have been satisfying,” the man said. “I find this much more... entertaining.”
I could see his thumb hovering over the button that would undoubtedly release the chain from the wench and drop me into the giant blender. My red hair waved freely below me and obstructed my view as I frantically looked around for anything that might increase my chances of survival.
I glanced upwards at my feet. My ankles were almost numb with pain as the handcuffs had been cutting into them due to the pressure of hanging from them. With my hands bound as they were, reaching them and unhooking myself would be impossible. I could, perhaps, swing myself away from the fan, but landing head first on any other surface would be just as quick of an end for me.
Needless to say there was no easy way out of this one. Or, more accurately, no means of escape at all. I was bound, gagged, helpless, and about to be suffer a terrible fate... Is anyone else having Déjà vu, or is it just me?
“I can’t believe I get to be the one to kill the infamous Agent 38.” The man said as he gently pressed down on the button.
_______________________________
“What do we do?” Sara exclaimed.
I quickly regained my coordination and managed to hop up onto my feet. The cuffs secured to my ankles kept my feet only a few centimeters apart, making walking impossible, and keeping my balance extremely difficult. But I managed.
“‘We’ aren’t doing anything,” I said with a smirk. “Since you’re obviously way more cut out for this job than I am, you’re going to be doing the heavy lifting this time.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sara said, obviously not actually wanting the answer.
“Have you ever activated a bomb before?”
“You can’t be serious...”
“Believe me, I never... Well, rarely joke about these things,” I said as Sara stared at me in disbelief. “Look, all you have to do is arm those two other charges, and reset the timer on the one I already placed.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding! I have no idea how to do that!”
“It’s a good thing I know you’re a fast learner!”
“But... Wait, what are you gonna do?”
“I’m going to distract them long enough for you to get the job done. You better get to work!”
It was an insane plan, I knew. But I wasn’t about to let my lack of confidence show through. If Sara believed that I believed she could do it... maybe she could actually do it? It didn’t really matter. We were officially out of options. Besides, Sara had already proven her worth tenfold on this little adventure of ours. She was capable of more than she knew. Perhaps even more than I knew.
Speaking of Sara, the girl was noticeably at a loss for words. She stammered for a moment, surely wanting to berate me for coming up with the worst plan imaginable(which it was). But just before she could put the words to her lips, a loud metallic thud echoed through the chamber. We both instantly knew it was the hatchway being opened just a few meters away. Sara dove back towards the explosive hanging on the wall, ducking behind some steel drums nearby.
“Stick to the plan.” I whispered as she moved away.
“I’m going to kill you.” She whispered back.
“Not if they kill me first.” I smiled.
“Hey!” A booming female voice called out. “Who the hell are you?”
The voice came from a tall figure that approached me, the light of the hallway behind obscured her face with glare. She was followed closely by three others, what appeared to be two men and another woman. As they came closer I could make out their features and get a good look at the 4 individuals that were about to undoubtedly kick my ass.
The taller woman in the lead was of average build, and was obviously the oldest of the group with her graying black hair. She was dressed in burnt orange coveralls that were covered in oily stains and pocked with holes.
To her left was a younger, blonde haired woman who was somewhat shorter and thinner than her commander. She wore a brown and black flannel shirt that was sloppily tucked into a pair of faded blue jeans and some light brown work boots on her feet. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that fell across her left shoulder.
To her right was a man of similar stature and age, with red hair and glasses. He wore a t-shirt that was once bright white, but was now almost black with grease and soot. He also wore a pair of grey pants and sneakers.
Behind all of them was, from what I could tell, a mountain. Standing head and shoulders above the rest of his comrades, the man was as muscle bound and burly as they come(imagine if Dwayne Johnson and the Hulk had a baby). He he had brown scraggly hair and a beard to match. He wore a single pair of dirty, ripped overalls that barely fit him with no shirt underneath, revealing his torso that was shining with sweat. I knew this one would be my biggest problem, but not my only problem.
While none of them carried actual weapons, the lead woman held a large red wrench, that could certainly deal some damage if used effectively:
“Oh, hey guys!” I said with as much mock glee I could muster. “Any of you have a spare handcuff key you could lend me? I’m kinda...”
“I asked you a question,” the tall woman interrupted angrily. “Who are you? How did you get in here?”
“Are you sure you want to know? Because it’s kind of a long story.”
“Try me.” She said, crossing her arms.
“Well, where do I start?,” I asked myself, pulling my handcuffed hands to my temple in a thinking motion. “Oh, yeah. I’m Agent 38. Your boss tied me up and brought me on board. I escaped, multiple times I might add, and now you just interrupted me in the middle of trying to blow a hole in this ship’s hull and sink it.”
All at once, all four pairs of eyes widened, glancing at one another in bewilderment.
“And that was the abridged version.” I said with a wink.
“Let’s take her to see the boss.” The tall woman said as she stepped toward me. The rest of her crew moved to follow as she approached me, moving her hand to try and grab my arm. I quickly snatched her arm, yanked the woman towards me, spun her around and wrapped my arm around her neck. Her heavy wrench fell to the floor in a loud clank and I now had the tall woman pinned in a headlock. This would give me a few seconds to breathe and think about my next move, as well as buy more time for Sara. I glanced over to where the girl was working furiously while still trying not to be noticed by our new friends. She seemed to be making progress, but it could just be wishful thinking on my part. Regardless, she would need all the time I could give her.
“One more step and I snap her neck,” dropping the happy-go-lucky tone from earlier and adopting a stern tone. The three goons continued to gawk at, perhaps in shock that their fearless leader had been disarmed by someone who was shackled hand and foot.
“Now, I’m gonna ask again... does anybody have a handcuff key?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.
“You think you can escape?”, the tall woman said, ignoring my question. “You’re going to die down here.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you, sweetie, but I’m-“
Before I could finish that sentence everything turned into a blur, and the next few seconds seemed to last for an eternity.
First, I’d fail to notice that my hostage had managed to slip one of her leg back between mine, using her foot to hook the handcuff chain between my ankles. She then thrust her foot forward, pulling my feet out from under me. While it successfully made me lose my balance, I still kept my arm securely around the woman’s neck. If I was going down, she was coming with me.
I landed flat on my back, and the woman landed hard on top of me. The jolt from suddenly becoming a human pancake did cause me to loose my grip on her and she managed to wriggle free. Instead of continuing to tussle with her I rolled away, reaching for the wrench she had dropped just seconds ago. I latched onto the tool and swung it backwards in a twirl. The wrench caught her in the side of the head just as she was trying to tackle me. Her body instantly went limp and she fell over onto the floor. I didn’t have to look back towards the rest of the goons to know they were coming for me, fully ready for a fight.
And, thankfully, so was I.
I tucked myself into a ball and rolled backwards, using the momentum to spring back up onto my feet. I landed just in time to see all three of them charging towards me. I pounced towards them, meeting the smaller man first. I latched onto him with my hands, turning my entire body horizontally, and allowed my legs to swiftly slide past him. What the red haired man didn’t realize is that I was merely using his body to launch an attack on his partner.
My feet continued on, flying through the air and finally finding their mark; the face of the blonde haired woman. The impact threw her backwards, sending the small woman sprawling on the floor, and straight into the path of the hulking mass of a man behind her. The massive figure stumbled over the woman’s now unconscious body and tumbled to the floor in a heap.
As all that was happening behind us, I turned my attention back to the man I’d latched onto, who still hadn’t fully realize what was happening. I swung my whole body around to his back, then threw my legs up over his head. Before he knew it my feet were on either side of his head, and the handcuff chain between my ankles was now digging into his throat. I then let myself fall, landing in a handstand and yanking the man backwards, choking him all the way. I swung him hard into the metal floor, and once he was down it was obvious he wasn’t getting up anytime soon.
I quickly scrambled to my feet, but in reality it wasn’t that quick. Trying do anything with your hands and feet bound together is beyond difficult. But, yet, in less than ten seconds I’d successfully brought down three of my four attackers. So maybe I wasn’t as rusty as I thought?
I quickly looked towards Sara who was... actually making progress. The two other charges had been placed on the wall and she was fiddling with the keypad on one of them. She seemed less frantic and more determined now. Perhaps my display of ass kicking(and not getting my ass kicked) had encouraged her. Regardless, she had yet to blow all of us up yet, so I considered that a win.
I then turned my attention to the single remaining goon, who was finally rising to his feet after faceplanting just moments ago. For a second I fully expecting this hulk to actually turn green as his face reflected the boiling rage inside him.
“You’re dead, bitch.” He snarled as he hobbled towards me.
“It’s nothing personal, big guy.” I said as I shuffled my feet backwards as best I could. I knew I’d gotten extremely lucky with my first three takedowns, and something told me my luck just ran out. Under “normal” circumstances this would be a a piece of cake. He was big, slow, and probably dumb. I was fast, small and significantly less dumb. Being agile and precise was my biggest advantage against such a brute, but this was different. Basic movements were pretty much rendered impossible by handcuffs secured around my ankles. And the cuffs on my wrists made even the most simple offensive and defensive motions more complicated. Thankfully, I had been prepared for such a scenario.
Basic training for Agents such as myself included rigorous sessions where we were forced to fight while in bondage. Once I handily defeated Agent 23 in a fight where we were both blindfolded with our hands tied behind our backs. Our instructors knew that being captured and trussed up was one of the main obstacles every Agent would have to endure in order to complete a mission. Of course, my current predicament was a bit more intense than I’d anticipated, especially considering my current opponent.
The gigantic man let out a roar like a wild animal and charged towards me. I waited for a split second as he approached, less wanting to draw him in for an attack, but more so just trying to figure out which direction to jump. I finally came up with a plan just a heartbeat before he plowed into me. I leaped straight up into the air and spun around as he passed under me. Just barely clearing the top of his head I began to fall back towards the floor, but in the process, I threw my arms over his shoulders and wrapped them around his neck. The thin chain binding my handcuffs was now under his chin, and as he attempted to shrug me off it only made it worse for himself as the metal chain slid backwards and was thrust into his windpipe.
For a half second I thought it was actually working. I was managing to hang on, despite the man thrashing and bucking like a raging bull. Within a few seconds, without proper oxygen flow, he would wear himself down and pass out. But, as always, it wasn’t that simple.
Quickly he grabbed both my hands with his own monstrously sized hands. At first I thought he might try to throw me off, but then he surprised me.
He suddenly began pulling my cuffed hands in opposite directions. I winced and yelped as the metal cuffs dug into my wrists due to the immense pressure. Just when the pain became almost unbearable, and I thought he might actually break both my wrists, I heard a soft clink and the pressure was released. I fell backwards onto floor, landing in a sprawled position just behind the man. My head had slammed down hard on the metal surface and my ears were ringing. It took me a second to realize that my hands were now no longer bound in front of me, but we’re both laying at my side, my arms spread wide across the floor. The handcuffs were still secured around each of my wrists, but the chain between them... had been broken.
For a millisecond I wanted to kiss the giant fool for doing me the favor of freeing my hands, and without a handcuff key no less. But I didn’t have a chance to thank him, or even enjoy my (partial) freedom. Before I knew it the muscle bound wackjob was fiercely bearing down on me, fists blazing. I brought both my hands back together to catch a fast moving punch headed straight for my face and it took all my strength to hold back the heavy fist. While doing that I’d forgotten to be on the lookout for his other hand. Before I could react he used his free hand to grab me by the neck and hoisted me upward. Soon I was now in the air, my still-cuffed feet dangling several centimeters off the floor while I remained at eye level with my hulking friend. I used my hands to clutch his outstretched arm as he applied more pressure to my throat. The man just continued to stare at me, his face twisted in a look of utter disgust. His grip was so tight it felt as if he could break my neck without any effort.
I took another glancing look towards where I’d last seen Sara and... she was gone. Had she finished setting the explosions? Was she hiding just out of sight? If something did happen to me I could only hope that she could somehow complete the mission on her own.
Just when I began to assume he was going to finish me off then and there, he surprised yet again. Still grasping me by the neck, he lifted his arm and threw my over his shoulder. I flew through the air and tumbled to the floor a couple meters away. Thankfully, with my now untethered arms, I was able to (mostly) break my fall. Still, being deprived of oxygen for so long left me clutching my throat and gasping for air as soon as I hit the ground. Once I could finally breathe normally and see straight I frantically scanned the room. Around me we’re the unconscious bodies of the other henchmen I’d dispatched. And walking towards me, just mere steps away with a long chain in one hand, and length of rope in the other, was the hulking man.
And still no Sara.
I’ll admit that I’m little disappointed that the seemingly fearless young woman hadn’t attempted to come to my rescue, as she had more than once before. But I also knew there was nothing she could do to help me. And the best thing Sara could do right now is escape this place and not worry about me.
I noticed that the length of chain the man was carrying was no ordinary chain. The end of the chain had a large hook that featured a locking clasp. The chain was hanging behind him, and I could see that it was connected to a device near the ceiling of the engine room. It was a winch, I recognized, and it rode along a track that was affixed to one of the metal beams that ran across the engine room above our heads. I assumed it was normally used to pick up and move various pieces of heavy tools and machinery. Now, I realized, it was going to be holding... me.
With the increased mobility of my arms I was able to crawl much easier and faster across the floor, but I wasn’t fast enough. The man easily caught up to me and grabbed onto my cuffed ankles, dragging me backwards.
“You ain’t goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.” The gargantuan man said.
“Hey, I only let guys call me ‘sweetheart’ after they’ve taken me out for for dinner and a movie.”
“Oh, don’t worry, baby. I’ll show you a good time.”
He snapped the hook over the chain binding my feet together, then, pushing a button on a remote that also hung by a wire from the wench, the chain began to move upward. I desperately reached for the hook, trying to disconnect myself from the chain, but it was no use. Within seconds my feet were rising into the air, out of reach of my fingers, and pretty soon my entire body was lifted off the floor.
I quickly became dizzy and disoriented as I swayed and spun around upside down, just centimeters off the floor. My incredible hulk friend finally came into view, standing just in front of me and trying to be as menacing as possible. He had pulled me up just high enough off the floor that I my face was now hanging at his waist level. He bent down to my level, bringing his face close to mine.
“Having fun yet?” He asked with a smirk on his face. I decided to respond him, not with words, but with a quick and solid punch to his big dumb face.
“Yeah, that was a lot of fun.” I said, mimicking his smirk. The man wiped a stream of blood from his nose as his earlier smile turned into teeth gritting snarl.
“You’re going to regret that.” The man said, snatching the hand I’d used to bloody him. He rose to his full height again and went for my other arm. Although I fought him all the way, he won the battle easy. He spun me around and placed both hands behind my back.
Apparently having free hands was only a temporary privilege for me.
He took out the length of rope he’d been carrying. Instead of simply tying my hands together, he looped the rope through the broken handcuffs that were still attached to my wrists. Pulling the rope tight and knotting it brought the cuffs even closer than they’d been before, and even more securely binding my wrists together behind my back. He then took the excess rope and wound it around my waist a couple times, passing it over my cuffed wrists and applying more knots to the rope. This kept hands tightly pinned to my back, and ensuring I wouldn’t be doing any more punching for a while.
“You really know how to make a girl feel special.” I said.
“And you talk too damn much!” He angrily replied as he reached for something in his back pocket, pulling out a dirty white rag.
“Well, you could have just told me to shut ummpphhh.” I said just as he shoved the filthy cloth into my mouth, sliding it between my teeth, and tying off the ends of it behind my head, thus forcing me to save all the terrible jokes I’d come up with for later.
He then reached for the winch’s remote and raised me higher into the air. I was now hanging as high as the winch would allow me to be lifted, leaving me dangling several meters off the floor of the engine room. Now, I’m not exactly afraid of heights, but knowing I had no way to catch myself if I did fall was incredibly unnerving.
At such an altitude I was given the best view yet of the engine room’s layout. In front of me was the steel bulkhead where the the explosive charges had been placed, and It was the last place I’d seen Sara. To my right was one of the massive engine turbines. To my left was another turbine, but it was several meters over, separated from the main walkway by a deep pit that was surrounded by a metal railing. Before I’d somehow failed to notice what was inside the pit, down below the walkway, but now I had a bird’s eye view.
There, approximately 3 meters wide, facing up from inside the pit, was a giant fan. The blades were made of sharp steel, perhaps shiny at one time, but were now dirty and rusty from years of use. The fan, I now realized, had been the source of much of the deafening noise inside the engine room. The blades made a loud buzzing noise that filled the room, and they spun so fast they could barely be seen. If someone were to get close to the spinning bits of metal, or even fall into them, they would surely be cut to pieces.
It was then that I found myself staring straight down at the enormous fan, failing to realize that the winch keeping me aloft was actually moving. Using his remote from the ground, my hulking boyfriend had now positioned me directly over the spinning blades.
“While killing you with my bare hands would have been satisfying,” the man said. “I find this much more... entertaining.”
I could see his thumb hovering over the button that would undoubtedly release the chain from the wench and drop me into the giant blender. My red hair waved freely below me and obstructed my view as I frantically looked around for anything that might increase my chances of survival.
I glanced upwards at my feet. My ankles were almost numb with pain as the handcuffs had been cutting into them due to the pressure of hanging from them. With my hands bound as they were, reaching them and unhooking myself would be impossible. I could, perhaps, swing myself away from the fan, but landing head first on any other surface would be just as quick of an end for me.
Needless to say there was no easy way out of this one. Or, more accurately, no means of escape at all. I was bound, gagged, helpless, and about to be suffer a terrible fate... Is anyone else having Déjà vu, or is it just me?
“I can’t believe I get to be the one to kill the infamous Agent 38.” The man said as he gently pressed down on the button.
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TightsBound
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 589
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: CT, USA
This would make such a good movie or tv show. And not just because the lead actress would be tied up multiple times! Can’t wait to see what comes next!
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TamatoaShiny123
- Millennial Club
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Awesome continuation! Can’t wait for more!
Check out my DeviantArt page!
https://www.deviantart.com/empoleon666
https://www.deviantart.com/empoleon666
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BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
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- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
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Hey, Netflix... Call me.TightsBound wrote: ↑4 years ago This would make such a good movie or tv show. And not just because the lead actress would be tied up multiple times! Can’t wait to see what comes next!
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BobaFettish1
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 121
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: The Sarlaac Pit
- Contact:
First off, I just wanted to thank all of you for being so patient and supportive of me. The time between posting new chapters of Agent 38 has been very long and I do apologize.
Secondly, I wanted to let you all know new chapters will be dropping soon, and more frequently. I am currently in the middle of writing three new chapters in tandem in order to ensure they all work well together. I won't give away the big reveals and twists that are coming, but I do want to share a brief(and completely out of context) excerpt from one of the upcoming chapters. I hope you enjoy:
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I half-chuckled at the thought of someone barging into our room at this moment trying to make sense of the unfolding scene.
A beautiful young woman, dressed to tease in a fitted blue dress and black strappy heels, who just so happens to be shackled hand and foot on a dorm room bed. I was surprised by how ridiculous I felt, but also how comfortable I was.
No matter how hard I tried, I would never forget the terror I felt just a few years before when I was tied to a pole and threatened by a criminal. That experience would haunt me forever.
And yet, here I was again, restrained arguably even more strictly this time. With my ankles, wrists and elbows shackled together, and a heavy collar around my neck, and I was... okay with it? And more than that, I was actually, kinda, sorta having fun?
Secondly, I wanted to let you all know new chapters will be dropping soon, and more frequently. I am currently in the middle of writing three new chapters in tandem in order to ensure they all work well together. I won't give away the big reveals and twists that are coming, but I do want to share a brief(and completely out of context) excerpt from one of the upcoming chapters. I hope you enjoy:
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I half-chuckled at the thought of someone barging into our room at this moment trying to make sense of the unfolding scene.
A beautiful young woman, dressed to tease in a fitted blue dress and black strappy heels, who just so happens to be shackled hand and foot on a dorm room bed. I was surprised by how ridiculous I felt, but also how comfortable I was.
No matter how hard I tried, I would never forget the terror I felt just a few years before when I was tied to a pole and threatened by a criminal. That experience would haunt me forever.
And yet, here I was again, restrained arguably even more strictly this time. With my ankles, wrists and elbows shackled together, and a heavy collar around my neck, and I was... okay with it? And more than that, I was actually, kinda, sorta having fun?