Part 1: Kidnapped!

Darkness.

Alone.

Afraid.

Her head hurt.

Exploring with her hands she found a lump the size of a golf ball on the backside of her head, and her hair was matted with apparently dried blood. Touching the lump brought stars to her eyes. She could feel the hard, rough hewn wood planks beneath her bare body. That was when she realized she was naked. She didn't remember how she had gotten here. The last thing she did remember before waking in this dark space was kneeling to pet her cat in her living room. Then everything went black. Light filtered in through the slats in the top of the wooden (crate?) she was in allowing her to make out a few shapes in the darkness. Exploring, she was able to make out a plate and a cup; both seemed to be the kind she had seen at hospitals, hard plastic with no sharp edges. No utensils. It looked like there was some kind of small door on the wall to her right, just large enough to pass the plate or cup through. It was securely latched. Pushing against the ceiling revealed the same. She realized she could hear a constant drone and there was a slight vibration as she sat in her box.

The crate, as she had come to think of it, was about four feet cubed. Not enough room to lay down comfortable, no room to stand. She could sit up against the walls, or lie down curled on her side. As the hours wore on, she lost all sense of time, her fear mounting with every passing moment. She realized the pain in her head had lessened somewhat, down to a dull ache. Her mind began to play tricks on her in the darkness, imagined ghostly shapes appearing and fading away, imagined noises startled her. She screamed. A long, low wail as her mind slowly began to close in on itself.

She didn't know how long she had been asleep, but slowly became aware someone was looking at her. Opening her eyes, she saw the little door was open - just an inch, but it was open! She dove for the door, only to see it slammed shut in front of her. "Who are you? Why are you doing this to me? Help me! Please!" She screamed at her captor.

Silence was the only reply she got.

"What's that?" There was something on the plate. Closer examination found some kind of gruel, thick and lumpy similar to oatmeal, only not as appealing. Realizing she was famished, she scooped the gruel up with her fingers and began to eat. When she was done, she licked the plate clean. Greedily she reached for the cup, drinking down the weak Kool-Aid she found there. She noticed a covered pot as well, with nothing inside. "What's that for?" The small meal had quieted her hunger, but not silenced it. Giving into the despair, she lapsed into a dreamless sleep. Use for the pot became apparent when she woke, her bladder screaming for relief.

She lost track of the times this scene played out. She always trying to catch him, he always latched the door before she could. Never responding to her cries of anguish. He was quite pleased with the spirit of this one. She had lasted 23 cycles before accepting her fate. They were almost back to his home when she stopped protesting her imprisonment.

Silently, the door slid open once again. A hand entered the crate, jabbing the hypodermic into the exposed thigh, pushing the plunger and withdrawing with the speed of a cobra's strike. The door slid shut once again. She felt the jab, and the sudden pain startled her to wakefulness. Not having seen or heard the door open and close, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her again. Rubbing the spot on her thigh seemed to alleviate the pain, and she drifted off once again - this time due to the powerful drug injected into her body moments before.

Light.

Bright.

Hurts.

Slowly she became aware of her surroundings. She tried to bring her hands to her face, and realized she could not. Her arms were pulled forward, down and away from her body. Leather bands around her wrists attached to a lightweight chain that led to a ring on the floor and secured with some kind of ancient padlock. Her head was about three feet above the floor, her body resting on something cold and hard. The surface started just about where her pubic mound began, and inclined to a point just below her breasts. Her legs were straddling whatever it was she was resting on. She could feel straps on her thighs and the tension from the connection to it. More straps encircled her ankles, she could see the chains on either side going to separate rings set in the floor. Looking down, she realized she was on some sort of display dais. Plain and simple, she was on display. Her sex, her breasts, her ass, and her mouth were all positioned to give even the most casual observer full access to her. Her body shuddered involuntarily at the realization.