Freeing Lana

Copyright
© September 2014 Kristin Elyon

 
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This e-book is a work
of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or
existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments ,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover
Art by Cover Art by
Kande
at
Kande’s
Pixels
https://www.facebook.com/KandesPixels

WARNING: This book
contains very disturbing situations, abduction, sexual content, anal play,
breath play, spanking, dubious consent, bondage, minor BDSM, strong language,
and graphic violence.

Dedication

To my twat waffle, I
appreciate all that you have done to help me. You have shared your story with
me and helped me realize a lot of things about myself as well. You believed in
me and encouraged me to keep going even when I thought I’d hit a dead end and wanted
to scream cabbage. You have helped me so much more then you will ever know and
for that I’m super eternally grateful. You are one of my best friends ever and
I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
 

CHAPTER
ONE

Lana awoke in complete
darkness, hearing nothing but the steady ticking of a clock somewhere on the
wall above her head. Something was covering her eyes; she could feel it against
the top of her cheeks, but when she reached for it, she found she could not
move her arms. They were bound to the edges of the bed beside her with
something which seemed to be tied below the bed, the floor perhaps, but she
could not be sure.

What
the fuck?

Her mind stumbled over
itself trying to make sense of the situation, searching frantically for any
clue of a memory which might tell her where she was, or how she got there. But
she was drawing a blank. She remembered being at work, and then walking across
the parking lot to her car, but that was it. She couldn’t even remember getting
into the car. Everything after her shift at Wholesale Warehouse was completely
gone. She tried to tell herself her friends were playing a joke on her and at
any moment they were all going to start laughing, unable to hold it in any
longer, but a part of her knew she was in some sort of trouble.

Think,
God damn it Lana, think.

But the more she tried
to remember, the further away the memories seemed to slip, leaving her in a
more confused state than she had been in before. This was not a joke, at least
not a funny one. Her friends had not hidden her car or pinned a note on her
back inviting everyone to kick her. She was tied blindfolded to a fucking bed
and it wasn’t funny at all.

To her right and behind
her, she could make out just a hint of light, as if a window was there. It was
barely detectable through whatever guarded her sight, but it was enough she was
quite certain it was daylight outside. Had she been here all night? She had no
clue. Hell, as far as she knew, she could have been here for several nights.
She felt herself begin to tremble as the enormity of uncertainty washed over
her. As tears formed in the corner of her eyes and tried to fall only to be
caught on whatever was covering her eyes, a new startling realization came
crashing into her newfound nightmare.

She was naked.
Completely fucking – a quick attempt to lift her legs added another unnoticed
ingredient to the messy soup which was becoming her mind; her legs were bound
tightly to the corners of the bed – completely fucking naked.

“Oh fuck me,” she said
out loud, surprising
herself
with the slight amusement
it brought to her.

If
he hasn’t already, chances are he does indeed intend to fuck you.

Well, no shit. She
wasn’t rich, so the idea of being held for ransom and then safely returned home
was ludicrous, at best. She pulled at the restraints binding her ankles and
wrists.
Nothing, not even the slightest give.
An old boyfriend, perhaps?
An admirer?
Probably not.
No, that was not Lana’s luck. History
suggested her luck in a situation like the one she now found herself would be a
lot worse, most likely involving some deranged, disease infested troll, a 450
pound loser who decided to go to whatever lengths it took to get laid for the
first time in his life, so he had grabbed her and she was most likely tied up
in his mother’s basement right now.

Fuck
you, indeed.

“Shut up,” she told
herself, “just shut up.”

She tried to convince
herself her worst fears were merely panicky delusions, and though there was no
way this situation was going to end well, it wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.
Yea, she was more than likely going to be fucked, probably more than once,
possibly by more than one person, but maybe, just maybe if she didn’t make too
much of a fuss, he would let her go soon. Maybe was all she had, so she grasped
it tightly with both bound hands and waited.

But she didn’t have to
wait long, because about the same time she was able to make the tears stop, she
heard something. It sounded like a door opening in another room. The front
door, maybe? There it was again, maybe. Maybe it was the police. Maybe she was
going to be rescued before it went any further.

“Help!” she screamed.
“Somebody help me!”

The door – she was
completely convinced now it was in fact the front door – slammed shut. She
heard footsteps pounding on hardwood floors coming closer. It was the police,
it had to be.

“I’m in here!”

Another door flew open,
this one much closer and she knew it was the door to whatever room she was in.

“Help me,” she pleaded,
barely getting out the hopeful whimper. But her hope quickly diminished as the
most distinctive sound of duct tape being torn from a roll answered her.
Seconds later, she felt the brush of fingers on her cheeks as a piece of the
silver restraint was placed over her mouth, retarding any further pleas for
help, as well as any hope of rescue.

Fuck
me, indeed.

“Shhh”

Quiet, almost gentle,
the simple command was all he said as he crossed the room and shut the door.
Lana heard him cross the room, returning to the bed. There was a slight pause
before she felt the bed give, telling her he had sat down beside her. She was
not flipped onto the floor, so the 450 pound troll theory was gone…for now.

She heard what sounded
like water dripping, or as though something had been pulled out of a container
of water anyway. Then a gentle brush on her forehead as a wet rag wiped the
sweat from her brow, then her face and neck.

“Try to relax,” he said
as he returned the washcloth to the basin to refresh it with new cool water
before placing it on her forehead and leaving it there.

It felt good on her
skin, almost…

Welcomed?
Were you really thinking welcomed?

Was that what she was
thinking, welcomed? Oh shit, if not welcomed, she was definitely thinking
appreciated. It had been a kind gesture at the least, and after the nightmares
which had been raking her brain since awakening, it had in truth, been
appreciated.

His voice was deep and
calm, almost hypnotic. The succession of vowels and consonants, though English,
added with the harmonic tone variations were soothing. His accent sounded
almost Spanish, but it wasn’t. It was entrancing and – as bad as she wanted to
admit it – beautiful. It was…

Welcomed?

No, Italian was what
she was thinking.

She felt her own weight
slightly shift again, as he stood from the bed and started across the floor to
the side of the room on her left, opposite from the door on her right. She
listened as best she could as he spoke again, but still found
herself
drifting into the mysterious world his accent
suggested to be his origin. It was definitely foreign, for lack of a better
word, though not overpoweringly strong.

“I was a bit
disappointed by your crying out when I came in,” he said, still speaking
quietly and evenly, seemingly without emotion, or at the least without anger,
“so I am going to leave the tape for now, until I can find a suitable, more
comfortable replacement. My hope that is you will not need it for long, but
that will depend on you. Can you be good?”

Could she be good? Was
he kidding? He had her tied to a bed in the middle of God only knew where,
naked, completely fucking naked, and he was asking if she could be good? He was
out of his Goddamn mind.

So,
you want the tape to stay on your mouth?

No, of course she
didn’t, but what the hell was she supposed to do, welcome this bullshit? Fuck
that.

“Well,” he asked, “can
you be good?”

Reluctant, but not
enjoying the tape, she nodded in agreement.

Apparently contented by
her surrender to the silence he seemingly expected, he opened a drawer of a
dresser and began rummaging inside. She had no idea what he was looking for,
but her mind was coming up with many possibilities. It didn’t take long before
he found what he was looking for and closed the drawer. Lana listened intently
as he crossed the room again and stood beside the bed. She heard him slide what
she assumed was a nightstand across the wooden floor toward her feet, stopping
it close to her legs, before sitting once again on the side of the bed. She
felt herself stiffen as she anticipated what would come next. No doubt, he was
not about to read a selection from Robert Frost. No, Frost never wrote of the
things she knew he intended now. His hand fell softly on her stomach, causing
her to flinch slightly.

“Try to relax,” he
repeated, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Yea,
ok.

He removed his hand
from her skin and she heard something foreign, a
whishing
sound coming from beside her. Was that an aerosol can?
What the fuck? Again, she felt him touch her, this time lower, below her
stomach, just above where she knew he was headed, that one place he had clearly
brought her to this place to touch, to hurt,
to
fuck.

A cool wetness could be
felt as he began rubbing something on her skin, on the hair above her most holy
of holies, her secret spot, her…

Really,
you’re tied to a bed, naked, with some guy rubbing Cool Whip or whatever
between your legs and you can’t even call it your pussy?

 
Ok, she had to admit the word didn’t bother
her as much as she wanted to think it did. Yes, he was rubbing whipped cream
above her pussy, but it wasn’t whipped cream, she realized as she picked up the
scent and realized with sudden wonderment what it was he was rubbing on her, on
her pussy. It was shaving cream. Was he going to shave her? He had gone through
the trouble of kidnapping her, strapping her to a bed so he could shave her?
What the fuck?

Lana,
you know perfectly well this is only the beginning, now
don’t
you?

She did know. She
didn’t want to know it, but she did, she knew it all too well. She was not
going home anytime soon, and of that, she was now quite certain. She allowed
her mind to wonder, as beside her the water sloshed. Then water ran as he
lowered the razor to her skin. Gently, he removed the triangle of hair from her
skin, repeatedly returning to the basin of water and returning it to her skin,
dripping. Water slowly ran between her legs, making a trail beside each before
slipping below her pussy and coming together where her ass cheeks touched. She
had often thought of performing this procedure on herself; it was after all
rather common, but she had been afraid of cutting something important, and
quite frankly, she had felt self conscious about it. But it wasn’t painful, she
noticed as her mound was becoming balder and smoother than it had ever been; it
was almost pleasant, almost…