(Author's Note: Previous Story: Vanessa: Beginnings, A Retrospective)
Capture Night was a school tradition. No one could vouch for how it really started but it had been fully established for a decade or more. It evolved over that time from plain student fun, shenanigans and outrages, at times, to a method of raising money for important local and school backed charities.
It was a fairly simple idea, that lurked behind Capture Night. Students, slowly at first but later in the years with great gusto, would plan to 'capture' a faculty member, holding them for 'ransom', which could be raised in any way that the faculty member could devise. The students loved it; the faculty put up with it, especially in the years after the money would be designated for special charities.
Vanessa had been teacher there, in the social science department, for a few years. She was not one of the fans of 'Capture Night'. But she had special reasons.
She gotten to her present position after hard work and sacrifices and was devoted to her teaching. Lessons, the very background of her childhood had made such an impression on Vanessa that she shied away from 'Capture Night' almost instinctively. It wasn't something that she ever wanted to be involved with.
She was, at that point in her career, 33 years old, had been an athlete in college, track and women's basketball being her sports. She wasn't involved with any men on a long term basis.
Another thing, dating, that she shied away from, like 'Capture Night', was the product of those same formative years.
Vanessa had lived with her Momma, Clarice. As a young teen Vanessa, when she began to develop a kind of interest in sex and sexual matters, had discovered, one sleepless night, sexual play between her Momma and the current boyfriend, Walt.
What followed, in the months afterwards, was Vanessa's gradual discovery of a kind of world of sex that, up to then, was shrouded in mystery and darkness for her. It hadn't been a part of her thinking or her outlook. After she made her discoveries, it would never again not be a part of those things, her thinking and outlook.
Vanessa'd been wakened by sounds from her Momma's room and got up, innocently at the time, to check if she was okay. What she found was a shock, and the path to her future.
She took advantage of a door that was opened, and, standing in the dark, saw Walt and her Momma in the bathroom, beyond the bedroom.
The scene that she discovered before her blazed an instant impression on her mind. Nor was this the only time that she made such a discovery. In the days, months ahead, Vanessa was the constant voyeur, the onlooker, the observer. She took in the scenes of her mother's full blown submission, of her mother's willingness to do what Walt wanted of her.
These scenes were not only things that Vanessa observed; they became slowly but surely a part of her, a matter of her own sexual makeup. In almost every case, Vanessa, in seeing her Mother's willingness to do what Walt wanted, translated that knowledge into a fantasy of what she herself would do, wanted to do, wanted to experience.
On that first night, and for many nights in the future, Vanessa learned about sex by watching her Mother perform for Walt, obey Walt, do what Walt wanted.
She watched as though her own very existence depended on watching.!
That night, standing in the doorway, she saw her Mother, totally naked, kneeling and giving Walt, totally clothed, a blow job. He cursed at her, called her dirty names, pulled her hair, and slapped her breasts and Clarice took it all and seemed to enjoy it all.
From the start Vanessa was mesmerized, rooted to the spot and from the start Vanessa wanted to know what it felt like, what it would be like, if it were she there kneeling, naked and subservient with that big white cock plunging in and out of her mouth.
It was so with every scene that blazed in front of Vanessa's eyes in the months to come.
She never hesitated to go out, when she heard their sounds, and see what they were doing. In the process she leaned about sex as a dedicated voyeur who wanted, above all, to be doing those things, practicing those things herself:
The the fucking, the ass fucking,, the times when Walt beat her Mother with a belt, and Clarice knelt submissive and willing and allowed it to happen.
It was the sum and substance of Vanessa's sexual education.
During all those times, when she was the observer, she retreated eventually and played with herself, in every case trying to visualize what it would be like if she were doing those things with Walt, or letting Walt do those things to her.
On one occasion her Mother told her that she and Walt were going to a house warming at a friend of his house. Vanessa knew the area and a short cut to the area and that night her education took another leap forward. She got there in time to see Walt and her Mother arrive. But, much to her surprise, when they arrived, before they went into the party, which was only a bunch of older men, Walt made Clarice take all of her clothes off, except for her heels and took her into the party naked.
Eventually, Walt began to include Vanessa, who was in her middle teen years and growing fast, in his games. She finally woke on one occasion, after having an erotic dream about giving someone a blow job, to find that Walt did indeed have his erection in her mouth.
She began then to be a part of the sex scenes that she'd witnessed for so long. She finally began to discover what it was like to be the naked one, kneeling and giving a blow job. Her education expanded by leaps and bounds.
It all came to a bad end with Walt, with her Mother finally driving him away but the foundation for Vanessa's view of sexuality had been laid, and she was never able to totally deny it, or set it aside.
When she would allow herself, and as the years went by, she made sure that she allowed this kind of stuff less and less often, she would descend into a kind of world where being the naked, kneeling slave thing/person was the center of the universe for Vanessa.She spent those times, those occasions replaying in her own experiences the scenes she'd witnessed her Mother playing out. It didn't matter if it were internet sites, internet story sites or some totally dirty reality, Vanessa developed a world, an alternative to her real world, where she was the slave and whatever white cock happened to be involved at the moment was the master.
She began her life long, love-hate relationship with that kind of thinking, that kind of sexual longing.
And this was one of the major reasons that she never wanted to allow herself to be involved in the 'Capture Night' activities at the school. She spent the years that she taught there making sure that she was away, busy or just totally unavailable when 'Capture Night' occurred, and thus far she'd been successful.
She simply wasn't sure that she'd be able to go through one of those 'Capture Night' experiences and not make a sexual fool of herself, and that would be totally inconsistent with her standing as a member of the faculty.
She recalled how surprised, turned on, she was, when she first was introduced to the 'Capture Night' tradition, as a rookie teacher at the school.
This year, as so many years in the past, Vanessa planned to simply be by herself. She lived off campus and far enough away from the campus activities that she never was bothered by any of the 'Capture Night' things. And now she had been 'head hunted' away from the school to a new position at a bigger school and this would be the last time that it ever was a problem for her. She'd successfully avoided 'Capture Night' activities and was leaving.
There was a small group of students, however, who were of a different mind set about Vanessa and capture night. She had been on their mind for all of their undergraduate years and now, as seniors, were determined to do something about it.
Their plan was certainly sophomoric but only in that it was devised, when they were sophomores. They watched the frenetic activities revolving around 'Capture Night' as freshman and talked among themselves about it. But then they planned and Vanessa became the very heart and soul of their plan. Two of them had her that freshman year for Intro to Sociology, and they reported to the others that she was 'the fox of the faculty'.
They took time to seek her out, look her over kind of, after that, and the other two were easily convinced. They planned to capture the Professor and made that their 'Capture Night' plan.
It went awry as sophomores because the plan wasn't fully ready, fleshed out enough. As juniors it went awry also because Vanessa made sure that she was gone and away from the school during that time period. Now as seniors they were ready.
But these four boys were determined to put their plan into action this year. They also had some history with this kind of thing.
When they were in high school together, they ran a kind of lawn mowing company. They all shared in the work and the arrangements of the company that they'd formed. One of their customers, Mrs Wendy Graves, proved to be the prototype for the future plan concerning Vanessa and 'Capture Night'.
When one of them, on an occasion, was doing the yard work for Mrs Graves, he noticed that a number of times she showed up at one of the windows, almost accidentally, wearing only her panties and bra.
Mrs Graves became a 'notch in his belt' that day and this information was spread to the other three of the lawn mowing company. Very quickly in the future they discovered that they had, in Mrs Wendy Graves, that rare commodity, a truly submissive woman. Wendy Graves, they sussed out very quickly, would do whatever they told her to do.
She became, very quickly, a circus for the four of them. They began a practice of working at Wendy's house together. She very quickly fell under their spell and became a play toy for them.
They made it a practice to call her, when they were planning to do her work. Her husband was older and on the road a great deal of the time, leaving her home alone. The fact that she became a 'slut' for the lawn boys became one of Wendy's joys! When they called, they'd tell her how they wanted her to dress, in answering the door, when they arrived. More often than not, she'd answer the door dressed only in panties and bra or maybe only panties, and occasionally, when the mood was on them, she'd answer the door naked.
Their play time with Wendy came first and then the lawn chores would be done.
They often took her out to the back yard shed with them, and once there, they stripped the compliant woman and, tying her wrists together, would hang her from the rafters in the shed, while they did the mowing and trimming.
Prior to becoming associated with them, Wendy had not ever engaged in anal sex but, as their toy, it became a staple of what they did with her, to her.
As time went on, they discovered the joy of pain sex with 'Wendy the Complaint', as they called her. They began the practice of clothes pins on her nipples, as she hung from the rafters in the shed. That, of course, branched off into spankings for her, using their hands, belts and occasionally pieces of wood or paddles that they'd gotten for that purpose.
Wendy was a treat! And Wendy never said 'no'. The one time that she did try to step in with any kind of authority, they employed a heavy handed method involving the use of a kind of 'gauntlet' with Wendy naked and each of them holding a wicked looking and wicked feeling paddle. Wendy came around very quickly, when they used that kind of method with her.
The association with 'Wendy the Complaint' went on for the whole of their last year in high school and only ended, when Wendy and her husband moved away due to a new career opportunity for him.
They had one last, kind of 'farewell' session with 'Wendy the Complaint', after the announcement of the move. With Wendy shrieking her head off, they tied ropes to her ankles and suspended her from the shed rafters upside down. With her in that position, and her head coming at the level of their waists, they got blow jobs from her and then used the paddles on her naked ass, finishing their tricks with her by using a barbecue lighter on her ass cheeks. It had been memorable.
They had decided, during the latter part of their freshman year and the early part of their sophomore year, to employ their expertise on Professor Vanessa T. She would be their 'Capture Night' project, and it was a mark of their seriousness about it that, although they didn't have a chance to pull their intended capture off either during their sophomore or junior years, they were still planning it, when they were seniors.
Vanessa wasn't very concerned because she'd always avoided 'Capture Night'. She was sure that his year would be the very same as the past years, and was equally pleased that her going to the new job at the university would serve to take her out of the 'Capture Night' scenario all together.
She'd had some conversations, over the years, with others who had been involved in being 'captured' and it sounded simple and innocent enough but this was an area where Vanessa didn't trust herself at all. She didn't want to be in a position to entertain those mental video tapes of her Mother and Walt again. She didn't want that happening at all, and the very idea of a 'Capture Night' tradition was enough to make her think about those suppressed ideas, longings and desires. Thus, she avoided the tradition totally, not only from distaste for the idea but also and more importantly because the very idea, if she thought about it, would get under her skin and turn her on. She wasn't going to let that happen.
She only allowed the review of those mental tapes at night, when in the dark she was alone with the longings that the tapes produced inside of her. She tried to keep as tight a control as possible on those kinds of things. She didn't trust herself not to, was the simple truth of it. She rarely allowed herself to slip into that kind of thinking, and then only when she was away from home on a trip or some such opportunity.
She was also confident of the fact that people, women or men, who genuinely could pick up on the kind of latent submissiveness that was involved with Vanessa's upbringing, were few and far between. What she didn't know was that there was a group of four such men on the campus where she was then teaching, and they had a plan.
The advantageous thing about the plan, from the point of view of the four seniors, was that it had been in existence for such a time period that they were totally and all intimately familiar with the plan and how it would work. For them it was Mrs Wendy Graves with a vengeance. They were, all four of them ROTC students and that kind of training went into the production of the plan. They honed it until they thought it fairly perfect and then waited for the opportunity to put it into action.
They were depending on the 'Capture Night' tradition because they knew that the tradition of 'Capture Night' would at least allay the Professor's fears initially and tend to make her a little more susceptible to what they were doing, until it was too late for her to do anything about it.
In preparation for their big event, they had done a good deal of research about Dr ... and her schedule: where she lived, what her habits were, and how they could use those habits to spring their little surprise.
The thought never actually entered their mind that Dr ... might just be amenable to what they had in mind. They were planning on the event being done with a certain amount of secrecy that they would maintain throughout the experience.
So, Vanessa herself would remain the wild card in the whole plan. She was the part that was, at first, unknown. They simply proceeded with the plan, that year, when they were seniors, on the original basis.
Vanessa didn't try to change her habits, not even though the 'Capture Night' thing was coming in the near future. On that particular night, early in the evening, she went out for her normal run. She did this every other night in the week, and then finished off with a shower or bath before bed time. It was a schedule that worked well for her.
She dressed in her normal fashion for her run: running shoes and ankle socks, a pair of black, nylon capris that were skin tight--the fashion these days for running, a tee shirt, plus her bra and panties.
(It should maybe also be said that Vanessa, at the age of 33 was fairly a beauty. She had classic afro-american features that were, in their totality, dazzling, from her curly hair, not too high--no outdated afro designs for Vanessa!--to her rounded butt, well developed from her years as a running devotee, and fairly large breasts, 36cs, she was stunning, especially as she entered that time in a woman's life when she can expect to be her most alluring, most attractive and most beautiful. Her running outfit, that she was wearing the evening that the 'Capture Night' plan was put into effect by the four seniors, served only to highlight her loveliness.)
She had a normal route that she used for her run. It was a pleasant one, using back lanes and pathways. A few of those caused her to traverse areas where others would be met, but for the most part she ran in isolation.
It was what she was doing, moving along at her normal pace, using her normal stride, when the car approached. But it was a part of the scene that she was always familiar with and approaching cars, though there were few at this point, never disturbed her.
In this event, that evening, when the plan was actually, finally put into action, the years of planning, and delays that allowed more planning payed off. It all went like the clock work that it was supposed to resemble.
The car passed Vanessa, as she made her way down the road with her running.
"Look at the ass on her!" was the comment of one of the guys involved.
"Fuckin' A, I guess!" came one answer.
"Can't wait to see that ass without any covering," was another comment.
"Momma's gonna taste good tonight!" another said.
The car, after it had passed Vanessa, suddenly stopped. There was no one else around. The four of them fairly exploded from the doors of the vehicle and grabbed the hapless runner before she even knew what was happening.
They had researched it, they had planned it and now it was unfolding exactly according to their plan. Each had a task.
She was initially overwhelmed by the action, the four of them jumping from the car, almost as soon as it stopped, and hurtling toward her.
Each one did his job quickly and well, so that in a few seconds Vanessa was taken, they actually had in their possession the 'fox of the faculty', all those goodies, the lovely ass that they were just a few seconds ago commenting about was in their possession.
They worked with knowledge of the plan and it went splendidly. Quickly enough one had grabbed her arms and taped them together; one had put tape over her mouth; one had grabbed her legs and taped them together, while the last one had applied a blind fold over her eyes.
The only thing that came to Vanessa's mind, after the initial shriek due to the shock of being grabbed and bound up, was: 'Capture Night'.
She realized, much to her chagrin, that she had finally been taken in a 'Capture Night' prank. The very look of the four guys, who'd bounded out of the car and grabbed her, trussing her immediately and rendering her 'hors de combat' had been initially frightening enough. They were all dressed in black totally, and each was wearing a black hood over his head. That part of it had made Vanessa gape and lose precious seconds, which could have been well used in her defense.
But that defense hadn't occurred. She'd been taken and then simply picked up. She realized, finally, from what she head and what she was feeling that they were putting her into the trunk of the car.
She spoke to herself at that point: "So, this is 'Capture Night', well, girl, just enjoy it."
She would labor under that suspicion for a while yet and it would only prove to be false, when things began to change later on.
Once she was in place in the trunk, the car moved. They had nondescript music on to cover their conversations with one another.
"Fuckin' beautiful!" one said.
"Totally according to plan!" was another comment.
"Want to get my hands on that ass!" one said.
"Want to use a paddle on that ass!" then was mentioned and they all agreed that that was a great idea.
THE PLAN DEVELOPS: VANESSA LEARNS
Things changed but not right away. Vanessa was left with her own thoughts for a good while, as they journeyed toward their destination.
She discovered immediately that she was uncomfortable. She was uncomfortable because of the way her own background, history and fantasies began to show themselves right away. She was uncomfortable because it gave her a reason to enter into her private fugue state and think about the dirty things that she loved but continually, habitually and strictly denied herself.
"Oh, this is nice!" she said to herself, giving herself a surprise, almost as soon as she was shut up in the dark of the trunk of the car.
She lay there, as they journeyed to wherever they were going and the thought crossed her mind:
"Capture Night! How convenient."
It gave a reason for what had happened; it gave a context for what had happened and would allow her, she thought, to dwell on it later and expand the event to include the delicious dirty things that were a part of Vanessa's fantasy world.
After all, the thought went, here she was: stuffed into the trunk of this car by her four captors; taken during her run and carried off, in this instance in the cause of raising money on campus for charity.
It was her own twist on these events that was exciting for Vanessa, and this is where all that background came in, going back and back to those steamy times, when she discovered the way her Mother allowed that Walt to treat her. Going back to those times, when she became the excited voyeur, the growing girl who watched her Mother give herself over to the authority of the man with the big white cock. Going back that far and remembering what it felt like to wish that it were really she that was kneeling and sucking, or kneeling and being worked on with the belt, or kneeling and doing unspeakably dirty things.
This, of course, was Vanessa's trap, which, truth to tell, she avoided consciously and tried never to give in to. But this was a safe situation, she thought. A safe situation whose outward appearance resembled the lovely, dark, secret thoughts that invaded her mind so often and caused her steamy, self pleasing nights in bed with her active fingers and equally active mind.
But now, now with this 'Capture Night' stuff, giving in didn't have those risks, and Vanessa could be the alternate woman that she hated so much, the woman who trolled the internet chat rooms for men, or even teen aged guys who were willing to talk about using her, abusing her and made their very safe demands on her, demands that she was all too willing, in those situations to comply with.
Vanessa lay there in the dark, trussed up in the trunk of this car by her captors and thought those thoughts and, mentally, wandered into the fantasies that she loved and loved to hate. She was, in those fantasies, being taken to a place where they would perform whatever sexual oddities and kinky things that they wanted, and she would always, every time obey. It was who, what she became in those fantasies: the woman who obeyed, the woman who admitted that her real existence was the existence as a slave to the white cocks that she would certainly be serving later, serving open mouthed, kneeling, willing, slavering and waiting to suck and lick and be the slave in every way.
These were her thoughts in the dark that evening, while she rode in the trunk, almost thanking the convenience of 'Capture Night' for giving her fantasies such freedom to roam.
Then the car stopped. She brought herself up out and away from the fantasies, since something was about to happen.
They opened the trunk and hands began to grab her and pull her from the depths of the trunk, getting her out and standing her on her feet and removed the tape from her mouth.
"Thank you," she said softly.
They, still all hooded, nodded at her thanks.
"Happy 'Capture Night'," she said, smiling at them, and showing them that she knew what this was about.
"Yes," one whispered, "Happy 'Capture Night' Professor!"
"I have to congratulate you on how well you've done this, pulled off this little maneuver!" she said.
"We're glad that you recognized all the effort that we expended in getting a chance to carry you off, Professor," the voice said then.
(They continued to talk to her in kind of hoarse whispers, making it difficult for her to be able to place voices.)
"This has never happened before," she said, "You need to tell me what's next and all."
The four of them laughed and one said right away: "Oh, Professor, we will! We'll tell you what we want and expect. Maybe in the end you'll actually like all of it."
"Maybe I will," Vanessa said to them.
Then she inquired: "Don't I get to know who my captors are?"
"No," one whispered, "Not right away."
Then he turned to the others and said: "Okay, let's get her ready; then we'll continue and go to where we need to be."
She was intrigued with what he said and even more so, when one of them knelt and removed Vanessa's running shoes and then her socks. He took them and put them into the back seat of the car.
Another made a move, and it startled her.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, alarmed.
"Take your clothes off, of course," one said to her.
"Oh, no!" she said forcefully. "No, no!"
"Tape!" the one who'd been talking said and her mouth was taped again, in the middle of the complaints that she was making.
She looked on, almost horrified now, as they removed the tape from her ankles and two of them grabbed her legs, immobilizing them. One held her by her arms, which were still taped behind her back, and the fourth one began to pull her running capri pants down, until he had them at her ankles.
"Hmmm," one of them kneeling said, "She's wearing pink!"
He was referring to her bikini panties, which were now on display, showing them clearly the curls of her pubic hair beneath the thin, pink fabric.
She chattered away against the tape on her mouth all in vain, for they were now all simply staring at her exposed panties and, through the panties, her pussy hair.
Her legs were taped again and then she felt her arms released. But it was only so that they could haul her arms up into the air and pull her tee shirt up and off. While they had her arms in the air, they unhooked her bra and hauled it off of her.
Vanessa was wild eyed, staring at the obvious delight that they were taking in stripping her, and was actively pushing against the intrusion of her own thoughts about how wonderful it felt to be not only taken captive, but actually stripped almost naked by her captors.
She shook her head to rid herself of such ideas, while they taped her hands behind her back again.
"Turn her around," one said, and they did so, leaning her against the trunk.
"Look at the ass on her!" the same voice said.
"Kiss it, man!" another whispered softly.
"Hey, I intend to!" the original voice answered.
She felt her panties being pulled down a bit then and his lips on her ass, giving her kisses.
"Bite it!" the other voice said, and the kisser did.
Vanessa jumped and yelled into her tape gag, as he bit her on the ass, first one cheek and then the other.
"Okay, back into the trunk with her," a voice said, "More games later."
"Mmmmmmmpppppfff!" was the only kind of protest that she was able to make, as she was picked up bodily and deposited back in the trunk.
And this was a dilemma for her, lying on her side in the trunk, very aware now of her near nakedness and the fact that what she'd thought was simply a 'Capture Night' prank was, in fact, turning out to be a real abduction, and one where their intentions were crystal clear, certainly made clear, when they hauled her out of the trunk and took almost all of her clothes off.
She lay there with time to think and knew the mental agony of the kind of debate that she had periodically with herself, when the severe and sensible voice within excoriated her for allowing her thoughts to roam into the usual 'dirty', 'passionate', 'erotic' veins.
It was all that Vanessa could do to stop herself, at this point, with what had happened, from all out relishing what had happened to her and what she anticipated, for she suddenly found herself in the midst of one of her fantasies come true.
These were the thoughts that she visited in the dark, late at night, with her fingers ready to roam through her own pubic hair and begin to play. These were the thoughts that had accompanied her to the internet chat rooms, where she sought out dominant men to make demands on her, but safe demands, since they weren't present, and now those demands were being made again but in a way that was far from safe for her.
She made it a point to be severe with herself right then but the fantasy thoughts kept on coming back:
Now she was the one whom Walt had and was going to play with. Now she was going to be forced to be the subservient slut that was the main stay of her fantasies. She knew it and it was making her wet and anxious at the same time.
This was her dilemma, and, lying there in the dark of the trunk of the car, she didn't know which one would emerge. It made her shake with anticipation and also made her angry that she would even contemplate cooperating with these four.
Of course, the dark, dark possibility that came into her mind time and again was that she would have no choice but cooperate. That was the unknown fear for her, in the dark of the trunk, as they made their way to wherever their destination was.
The car stopped. She waited. Soon enough the trunk was open and they, still hooded, pulled her out. She still had tape over her mouth but the blindfold was taken off of her eyes. They had arrived at what looked like a rural property. They stood Vanessa by the car, as one of them went into a barn and turned the lights on for them. Then one of them, a big guy, picked Vanessa up and, with her shrieking into the tape over her mouth, hauled her over his shoulder and carried her.
Someone gave her a terrific slap on the ass and said: "Shut the fuck up!" in a hoarse whisper. Vanessa complied, she became quiet and let the feeling of fear settle over her. The fear was serving to push her fantasies into the background, and she hoped that she didn't have to worry about them anymore, as she tied to deal with what was going to happen.
They took her into the barn, where the lights were on. In the blaring lights of the barn, the four of them looked even more evil in their all black outfits and black hoods.
They took the tape off of her mouth.
"What do you think you're doing?" she said immediately, as soon as she was able to talk, once the tape was removed.
They had fully expected this to happen and had planned for it. One of them, standing in front of her, slapped her face and said:
"You were told to shut the fuck up! Do you understand?"
She just looked at him and, apparently, didn't answer quickly enough and was slapped again quickly.
"Yes," she said in a soft voice, "I understand."
"Good," the big one said. "So, let me tell you prof, what's about to happen here."
She just stared at him and nodded her head.
"It's just our little version of 'Capture Night'," he said. "We've captured you and we want you to be very cooperative!"
She shook her head 'no', pushing her fantasy thoughts into the background and trying to gain some ground for herself here.
They slapped her and now she had tears in her eyes.
"Okay," one of them said, "We knew what we'd have to do, so let's do it! Get the shoes for her."
They produced a pair of high heels, that had fully six inch heels. They let her hands loose and told her to put them on.
She did as she was told. Next they told her to walk around the barn. Before they let her do that, however, they taped her hands behind her again. She set off in one direction and walked around the barn, as she was told.
"Move your ass, bitch!" one of them shouted at her, and before even thinking about what he'd said, Vanessa complied, shaking her ass cheeks and wiggling them from side to side as she walked.
Even this little bit of acquiescence bothered her, because she did it without thinking, almost quickly fading into her fantasy mode and doing what she was told.
It was a kind of reality call for her, and to tell the truth, once it was dealt with, swiftly too, it was the last time in this whole encounter that Vanessa tried to establish or use that kind of reality check again.
What she did was essentially stupid, and futile but maybe necessary. When she got to the barn door, she pushed on it with her shoulder and it yielded, letting her get outside.
She heard them laugh inside and someone said: "The bitch is trying a runner!"
"Fuck, yes!" another said.
"Okay, let's get her," a third said, "And then the fun begins."
Meanwhile, Vanessa was kind of tottering away from the barn. Her progress was very slow because of the unwieldy shoes that she was still wearing, when the four of them burst out and one of them was upon her in no time.
She was making noises behind the tape and trying vainly to go faster but the heels, which she still didn't discard, continued to hinder her progress. She sensed someone running next to her, before she actually saw them and with a quick thrust of his hip, whoever it was knocked her over and sent her tumbling down a little incline in the lawn.
She was just a bit dazed and struggled to get up but was quickly pushed back to her knees. A powerful hand grabbed a hold of her hair and a voice growled at her:
"Stay the fuck down there."
She didn't even try to get up. The hand, still holding her by the hair, began to pull, tugging her toward the barn again. She was shrieking against the tape across her mouth but the hand in her hair never relented.
"Got her," he said to the others, as he pulled her along toward where the rest of them were by her hair.
Vanessa was handling this, at this point, pretty much moment by moment but the danger of her simply giving in to the fantasy and becoming completely what they wanted her to be, was growing also by the moment.
As for the four of them, now playing with the lovely, sensuous, almost naked faculty member that they'd managed to 'capture', they were about to succeed beyond their wildest possible dreams. They didn't know that yet, but the revelation point was only barely minutes away. They simply needed to continue with the program that they'd set out and designed and it would be completely apparent. That's what they did.
They got her close to the barn again and one of them said: "Let's do it here. We'll have room."
"Good," someone agreed, "Got the equipment?"
"Yes," came a third voice, "Right here."
The one who'd corralled Vanessa was still standing by her and still had her by the hair. He kept his hold on her and the pain of it kept her quiet for the moment. Her only noise was a kind of whimper of pain now and then, from the way that her hair was being pulled.
They stood around her then and made it clear to her what they had in mind:
"Okay, Dr T," one said to her, getting her attention. "This is what we're going to do. We need you to be much more cooperative than you have been. I mean here you tried to run away, you kept shaking your head 'no' and just causing this fuss. So, what we have designed here is a little kind of game that will deal with your attitude. It's designed, as a matter of fact, to alter your attitude. Do you understand? If you do, shake your head 'yes'."
Vanessa, tears in her eyes now from the pain that the hair pulling was having made sure that she shook her head 'yes' right away. She didn't hesitate at all.
"Good," the voice that was explaining said. "We call this little exercise 'the Conga Line'; nice name, though you might not like it very much. It's a simple thing really. All you have to do is walk in a straight line between us, as we're lined up. That's not difficult now is it?"
He was talking to her as though she were either mentally handicapped or was simply a slave that needed to have everything spelled out for her.
Vanessa shook her head 'no', that it wasn't difficult what they had in mind.
Then for the last real time, in a long time actually, she took mental stock of what was happening with her, internally with her:
She was naked, except for her pink panties with these four students, for she was sure that they were in fact students; she was certainly afraid; they seemed capable of very violent actions; they'd shown that quickly enough. But what was more, she was being positively excited by it. She wished that she could deny that fact but, in that flash of clarity, she was sure that she was as wet as possible at her pussy and it was having an overwhelming effect. She realized that she was quickly sinking into, becoming the fantasy, and the reality suggested to her that she was about to live the fantasy out, right there and right then.
They slapped her face then to bring her back from her own reveries.
"Listen, Bitch!" one said, and she shook her head 'yes' immediately.
"You understand what we want you to do?" she was asked again.
Someone tore the tape off of her mouth and growled at her: "Answer!"
"Yes, yes," she said in a hoarse voice, "You want me to walk between the lines of the four of you for this 'Conga Line' thing."
"Exactly," one said.
"One more thing," the voice went on to explain. "When you walk through the middle of us, we want your hand up in the air. In the air, understand?"
"Yes, yes," she said, "Up in the air but why are you doing this?"
"Good," the voice said, "That means that you want to walk 'the Conga Line' twice, maybe the second time, we'll have you crawl. Any more of your fucking questions, Dr T?"
She shook her head 'no' immediately, too afraid now to make any further kind of trouble for herself. She was suddenly completely terrified by what they might be planning.