Chapter 2: Who Are You?

Awareness came slowly. First was the pain in the left side of his face, then the fact that he couldn’t move his arms or get up from the chair he was in; finally, the fact that he was completely naked.

Ryan began to struggle in a vain attempt to break his bonds. He tried to call for help, but that too proved pointless; the large ball gag strapped into his mouth allowed only a pitifully minuscule amount a sound to escape.

“Are you finished?”

The voice came from somewhere behind him.

He tried turning his head from side to side, attempting to discover who it was that was responsible for the predicament that he found himself in.

The woman slowly walked out from behind him, grabbed one of the other ladder-back kitchen chairs, and placed it directly in front of him. Instead of sitting, she held the back of the chair and stood there visually examining his body and admiring her handy work. She, too, was naked.

Ryan studied her face. There was something about her that was vaguely familiar, but try as he might, recognition would not come. As his gaze moved down to the rest of her body, he was sure that he had never met her before. Her body appeared to be the result of a union between Arnold Schwarzenegger and Gabi Garcia. She was tall; at least six feet two inches. Her broad shoulders and arms were packed with well-defined muscles. Her breasts were large, round hemispheres, sitting proudly on her massive chest. Ryan took a quick glance between her legs just to be sure that she was a woman. Her thighs were thickly muscled and so large that he doubted his belt would fit around one of them.

“You aren’t going to break those zip ties, so if I were you I wouldn’t even try. Let me fully explain the situation that you find yourself in. Your arms are secured in such a way that the top of the back of the chair is between your body and your arms. Each wrist has a zip tie secured around it and those zip ties are held together by a third one. Each leg is secured to the outside of the corresponding front leg of the chair as you can see. What you can’t see is that the zip tie is placed just below your knee and that your ankles are tied together in a similar manner as your wrists. Basically, you are totally immobilized and almost totally exposed. I own you!”

She slowly walked around him, seemingly taking stock in her captive, then she spoke: “You don’t remember me, do you Ryan?”

All he could do was shake his head.

“That’s okay. That’s really not surprising since you all but ignored me for all of our senior year. You just sat there with those three little creeps and laughed at me. Still don’t remember? I’m Ella, Ella Rogalski. I was in your homeroom. We were in the home economics room with that little tease of a teacher; you know, the one who always wore the tight sweaters over her perky little tits. Back then, I didn’t look like this. I had some muscles back then, but I hadn’t started to train seriously yet. And I hadn’t learned to eat properly. Now do you remember?”

He remembered her, all right. She was the big girl who sat on the other side of the room, the one that always wore old baggy work clothes and work boots. She was the one that his friends called ‘Sasquatch’

Ryan tried to talk, to tell her, but all that came out of his mouth was a series of unintelligible gibberish.

“If you promise not to yell for help, I’ll remove the ball gag. If you give me any trouble I promise you that I can and will silence you just like I did before -- and this time I won’t pull my punch.”

He nodded emphatically.

Reaching around the back of his head, her massive tits just inches from his face, she loosened the gag’s strap and pulled the ball from his mouth.

“Thank you,” he said, as he moved his jaw trying to get some feeling back and the taste of the hard rubber ball out of his mouth.

“Remember your promise,” she said. She now sat directly in front of him with her right leg crossed over her left, her muscular calf resting just above her knee, not unlike Sharon Stone in “Basic Instinct.”

“I had such a crush on you back in those days. Not that I had any chance of getting together with you. You were one of the “untouchables”; you were smart, popular, cute, and from a rich family. You were college bound; everything came easy for you. I, on the other hand, barely made ‘C’s; I was a loner, and not by choice. I was too tall, too heavy, had a face only a mother could love, and came from a blue-collar family. If I remember correctly, Roger and the rest of those guys called me, the ‘Polish Peasant,’ ‘a member of the East German track team,’ and my favorite: ‘Sasquatch’.

“I never called you any of those names. In fact, I tried to get them to stop it. I knew how much calling people names could hurt them. I was brought up better than that.”

“Then why did you always ignore me? All I could ever hope for was for us to be friends. Instead you just ignored me and made me feel like I didn’t matter, didn’t exist; that I was worthless.”

“You don’t understand,” Ryan said in almost a whisper. “I was afraid of you.”

“Afraid of me; you didn’t even know me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. We had met before, although I’m sure you don’t remember. I didn’t look like I did when I was a senior. We were both freshmen, although I didn’t know that you were at the time. The school term had just begun. I was young for our class; I’d just turned fourteen at the time. And I was small, probably about five feet three inches and less than a hundred pounds soaking wet. To me the school was huge, and so were most of the kids in it. Changing classes was a real challenge for me, especially when I was going in the opposite direction than the guys from the football team were going. They would get me between two of them, pick me up, and carry me back the way I came: I was always the last kid to get to my next class.

“In order to avoid detention for constantly being late for class, I used to go the long way around the school. I’d run down the hall past the library, past the automotive and metal shops, turn down the hall along the side of the auditorium, and then turn down the hall towards the music room. That last turn is where we crashed into each other.

“I was running down that hallway, my arms full of books for my last few classes of the day, and when I approached that blind turn I ran into what I thought at the time was a stone wall. I bounced right off of you, my books were scattered all over the floor, and I ended up sitting against the far wall. When my eyes finally came into focus, you were towering over me. You bent over, grabbed me by the front of my shirt, and lifted me clear off the ground. You were screaming that you were going to kill me, and I believed that you would have if the Vice Principal had not been coming out of his office at the time.

“He had seen the whole thing. He told you to put me down, for me to pick up my books, get to class, and not to run in the halls. You, he told to get into his office. He didn’t hear you whisper to me that if you ever saw me again that you were going to be the last person I ever saw.”

“I remember that! I almost got suspended that day. I probably would have if it wasn’t for the fact that my mother had just died less than two weeks before and he felt sorry for me.”

“I’m sorry about your Mom”

“Thanks, it was a long time ago.”

“I managed to avoid you for almost three years. Even though I went through a sudden growth spurt, growing five inches and gaining nearly thirty pounds, I was still scared to death of you. You can imagine the shock and the sheer terror I felt that first day of our senior year, when I saw you walk through the door and sit at the table on the other side of the room.”

“Wow. I had long since forgotten about that incident by that time. I had far too many other fights and had made a lot more memorable visits with the Vice Principal to worry about you.”

For the next several minutes they sat in silence as they each scrutinized the other. Ryan studied her face. At nearly thirty years of age, she had grown into her face. Gone was the obviously Eastern European ancestral peasant look. Her short blond hair was streaked with reddish highlights giving the illusion of the aftermath of numerous head wounds. The more he studied her, the more attractive she became. As his eyes traveled down, he surprised himself by not immediately focusing on her breasts. He marveled instead at the development of her trapezia and deltoids, the way they resembled a pair of football player’s shoulder pads. How, with each movement of her arm, her biceps and triceps seemed to be trying to tear through the skin that covered them. By the time his eyes finally made it down to her breasts he was already getting an erection.

“I see you like my body. Go ahead, look; I don’t mind. I’m proud of my body. I’ve put a lot of hard work into looking like this. I’ve been seriously training for the last five years, and before that I was doing very physical work in my father’s warehouse. You wouldn’t know about stuff like that. You were one of the rich kids; one of the ones that never had to work. You probably never had a job until after college. I started working in the warehouse of my father’s wholesale produce distribution company when I was fourteen, right after my mother died. It was a way for my father to keep an eye on me; to keep me out of trouble.