The Abduction - Chapter 4
If Rena had not been the astounding specimen of female power that she was, I might have worried at the huge amount of chloroform and other drugs we needed to give her to keep her unconscious. Shackled in thick chains she lay on a comfortable bed at one end of her basement room, while two of my men repaired the wall and built the new restraints. The third man was assigned to monitor her sleep closely and to insure that she remained unconscious. I visited occasionally and entertained fantasies of an elaborate rigging of her unconscious form to the bed itself but I knew that no mere chains and iron bed frame could resist her strength once I let her awaken.
For the first few hours my men seemed somewhat nervous, but they soon regained their confidence. All three were enormous bodybuilders, fighters, and strength athletes. That they had healthy respect for Rena speaks volumes for her reputation, a reputation that the twisted metal--the remains of her cuffs--that had greeted their arrival in the basement room did nothing but burnish. Her bulging arm muscles, visible even in sleep, didn't hurt.
Eventually the cement was completely dry and the men hoisted Rena back into position against the wall. I watched by video close-up as they moved her arms to put her wrists into the new double cuffs. Bending her arms at the elbow made it seem for a moment that she had come back to life, as her biceps jumped to a rock-like peak. Yet still she slept: that peak was not even flexed.
I had purchased a new brassiere for Rena and them men put it on her. Knowing that I was watching they refrained from any untoward actions. An hour later I returned to the room. The dented metal door had been replaced with one six inches thick, reinforced throughout in cast iron. It weighed nearly a ton and required huge, iron hinges. I could barely open it.
I brought a tray with food--steak, risotto, and salad--and a bottle of mineral water with a straw. There was now a table and chair a few feet in front of Rena. I sat and waited for her to awaken.
“You bring me classy food without wine?”
I was startled to hear her voice after only about five minutes. She was supposed to be out at least another 30.
“Ms. Danvers, wine and chloroform do not mix. I’m only trying...”
She laughed. “Poor Freddy, you don’t know whether to take care of me or to chain me up and fuck your brains out.”
My god, she seemed to know the fantasies I had enjoyed even when she was unconscious.
“Get me some... some Nebbiolo. That will make me like you a tiny bit better.”
Did she know the contents of my wine cellar too? I hurried out and returned with a favorite bottle and a glass.
“Mum, that will be good.”
I’ll omit further details, but suffice it to say that the wine seemed to have no effect on her besides bringing an even healthier glow to her skin. Over the next couple of days, scenes like this were repeated. Rena expressed no anger, no yearning to escape; rather, an ironic good humor. Usually I fed her, sometimes my men did. They refused to enter her room alone, so all three waited on her together. Somehow, it was impossible not to feel as though she were in charge.
I’m not proud of this, but I must force myself to be candid. An hour or two after each feeding I pressed the chloroform button. Then I hurried to her room (after operating the exhaust system, of course) and, in the act of fondling her magnificent physique gained exquisite release of my pent-up sexual tension. Sometimes I came while massaging an unbelievably prominent calf muscle; sometimes in the act of licking a striated thigh; but the usual locus of my desire was her arms. Even unflexed, the balls of muscle that were the peaked mounds of her biceps were so hard that my fingers could not make the slightest dent. I felt them, kissed them, sucked them and came again and again.
Gradually I was building up the courage to worship her body when she was somewhat awake. The summit of my fantasy was to stroke her biceps when they were fully flexed, so I needed her to be conscious. After achieving this ecstatic pinnacle of my obsession I would release her. My plan was to have my men return her to town (unconscious, of course) and for all four of us to fly Europe (I live in California) for an extended holiday, far from where she might track us down.
I could hardly bear the anticipation of this event. I watched and listened as my men fed her a last time.
“You know what,” she asked near the end of the meal, “I could use some exercise.”
“What do you mean miss?” asked Jack, one of my men.
“I need for you guys to help me get my abs back into shape. How about a few rounds of sparring. Hit me as hard as you like.”
Rena’s abs, which she now flexed and relaxed several times, were as awesomely muscled as the day we had brought her home. The guys looked at each other, then tried to talk Rena out of this “exercise,” much as I had earlier that week.
She laughed at their concerns. “C’mon wimps. You afraid you’ll hurt your poor little hands?”
My men are loyal to me, but Rena’s taunts got them. Soon they were banging away at her midsection, harder and harder. Jack, a pro boxer, was really getting into it and, frustrated, started to pound Rena full strength. What happened next was beyond belief. Rena showed no signs of discomfort and Jack, standing very close to her, was concentrating intensely--we all were, including me in my room. I guess I must have noticed it first, over the video camera: Rena’s left quadriceps started to flex more powerfully than I had ever seen it; as I watched, the massive cuff around her left ankle started to shake, then, it seemed to explode from the wall.
Jack tried to get away, but succeeded only in turning awkwardly and falling to his knees, so that when Rena’s leg scissored out and back she caught him neatly around the neck. For a moment all was silent.
Jack’s face turned red, then purple. Then Rena spoke. “Here’s the deal. If you grab the set of keys from the desk drawer and release me, not only won’t I kill your friend here, but I won’t kill either of you. This is your only chance: I will get out of here eventually and when I do, I will come for you and crush you utterly; if you let me go, I’ll have to hurt you a little now so you don’t interfere with my plans, but you’ll survive.” She looked down. “Decide fast: I think your buddy has about 30 seconds left, unless I squeeze harder.”
Friends, what can I say to you? Anyone not in thrall to Rena’s muscles would have run down and pushed the chloroform button. But perhaps you can understand. I was riveted to the screen. This gorgeous woman, whose two arms and one leg were held fast to the wall, was destroying a huge man proud of his strength--with but one leg! Facing them were two other enormous men who were in awe and fear. If they did as she asked I soon would be able to observe Rena in combat with them. As I watched she shifted her leg slightly and moved so that Jack’s head now was between her thighs: he was completely engulfed by muscle that seemed to swallow his head. Clearly, he soon would expire.
My men consulted and ran back for the key. Rena dropped Jack in a heap, moved a toe under his body and lifted his entire weight straight up with one leg, "handing" him to Mike, an enormous college wrestling coach, who struggled to carry him to the side. Jack was, of course, completely unconscious. My other man, Charlie, at nearly 400 pounds, released the cuffs.
Rena stood massaging her wrists and shaking out her arms, then her legs. My men remained immobile, paralyzed with fear.
“One at a time or both at once? You guys have some chance if you work together.”
Mike and Charlie charged her together. Rena, quite literally, welcomed them with open arms, but their combined size thwarted her attempt at a bear hug, and for a few moments she seemed, well, almost stymied. Then she reached down and before they (or I) knew what she’d done, she had grabbed each by his belt and jerked them off their feet. They dangled like kittens in her hands! She straightened her arms (with well over 300 pounds in each!) so that they couldn’t reach her as they struggled.
“Freddy!” She was looking straight at the main camera. Obviously she knew I could see everything and hear every word. “I hope you pay these poor boys well, because they won’t enjoy this!”
Mike and Charlie kept struggling furiously, but to pitifully little avail. With no obvious effort Rena maneuvered Charlie’s head between her thighs as she stood. Mike’s head was directed under one massive arm.
“Oh Freddy...” she intoned mockingly. “How bad should I hurt them?” She looked straight at the main camera. Standing motionless with two huge men held helpless, one between her legs, one in a brutal headlock, she smiled. I could see Rena’s thighs bulge out around Charlie’s head. In a moment, he fell silently to the floor.
“This is too easy Freddy, it’s you I want to wrestle.” While she still looked at the camera, the arm locked around Mike’s head gave a slight shiver. I could see the ball of her bicep plunge into the side of his face and hear the snap as his jaw shattered. He too fell to the floor, out cold.
“Gee, now there’s that big new door. Hope you locked it Freddy.”
I had locked the door as I always did during feedings. I could unlock it electronically from my room to let the men back out. If any door could withstand her battering fists, this one could. And I guess that that was why my panic had not forced me to push the chloroform button or jump in my car to escape.
How could I have been so crazy? What door could withstand Rena? Five, six, seven blows. On the eighth two hinges came loose. She raised one leg and pushed. The door popped open and crashed to the floor with a heavy thud I could feel four flights up.
Rena strolled back and smiled into the camera. Slowly, very slowly, she raise her two arms and held them out straight to the side. With agonizing, thrilling deliberation, she curled them into the classic double bicep pose. For the first time all week her biceps were flexed to their full, impossibly full extent. The peaks rose and split and seemed to continue to rise as she stood with a big smile, looking directly at me. "Ohh, feels good Freddy. These are for you! You'll feel them now, I promise! Ready or not, here we come!”
(To Be Continued?)