Silent H. Jekyll MF, Mf, Ff, bdsm, nc, some scat: story codes refer to the series, not to specific chapters. Chapter One: Capture Snatching the mother was easier than snatching the girl had been. After a few weeks of no daughter she had slowly begun to go to work, to shop for groceries. She and her husband were grief-stricken, but they had to live. They both thought she was dead, actually, and just wanted to find the body, to bury her properly. After a few months they even started to fuck again, once in a while, though it was mostly for comfort and wasn't very good. No one ever considered that the wife could be a victim too, as she went about her routine activities across the days, mainly avoiding her friends who would want to make conversation. She had lost weight, though as a middle-aged American woman she was still plumpish. Her husband didn't seem to mind that her thighs had grown flabby. To the captor, she was a project, something to occupy his time and please him now that her daughter was thoroughly mastered and, therefore, less interesting. So it was that on the third-month anniversary of the day he took her daughter he accosted her as she left a grocery store and started to enter her car, using his best cop voice to say "Ma'am, we have some news of your daughter." "What is it?" She almost shouted, too shaken and giddy to wonder why a cop would track her down at the grocery store. "We've found some recent photos We think they are her." He showed her two color snaps. In one her daughter was hanging from the ceiling by dark straps attached to cuffs on her wrists. There were some whip marks on her belly and breast buds. The other was a close- up of her daughter's face, an erection clearly just emerging from her mouth and spurts of semen on her eyes and cheek. He had chosen them carefully, so he could watch her face when she realized what they meant. The mother sank half way to the ground and grabbed her stomach. She was almost sick right then. This was the thing worse than death that she and her husband had avoided ever mentioning. "Ma'am, if you'll come here with me." He opened the door of his SUV and she climbed in distractedly, her mind on what was happening to her baby. The moment both were in he snapped a cuff on one wrist and put his gun to her face. The windows were strongly darkened, and it would be difficult for anyone outside to see anything. "Do exactly what I say and you will live to see your daughter." She didn't understand, so just sat there breathing rapidly while he cuffed her hands together. He snapped a hinged a collar around her neck. A cord from it went to a ring bolted to the floor, and he used that to pull her head all the way down between her knees, below the level of the window, and hold her tightly in place. "What are you doing? Let me go! Where is my daughter?" He pushed a rubber ball into her mouth, tied it in place with a thin leather belt, then pulled a stocking cap over her head to blindfold her. She continued to make frightened, indecipherable sounds behind the gag for a bit. "I'll answer your three questions. First, I am kidnapping you. Second, no, I will not let you go. You are my plaything now, and you'll learn above all other things to please me. And, third, your daughter is where we're going. I have her and I certainly have you." It was that easy. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- - The transition from being a free person to being the prisoner of a rapist, bound, gagged, and blindfolded, being taken to some unknown, probably fearful, place, is a profound thing for a woman. She was disoriented, shaking, crying, trying to think. From the photos she had an idea of what would happen. Combined with the ball in her mouth this brought her waves of nausea. What would her husband think? How long would it be before anyone knew she was missing? Could she be brave in the face of this? Her daughter was alive. Or was she? Oh what she had faced? Oh what would she face herself? She pulled and struggled at her bindings for awhile, and he let her, and in the end this reinforced her sense of helplessness. Above all: would he kill her? Please dear God don't let him hurt me too much. Her prayer was destined to be unanswered. After a short while he stopped to uncuff her arms and fix them behind her back. It wasn't hard. He undid the cord and led her from the car. She didn't know what to do but to follow his directions. He lifted her, placed her in the trunk of another car, then continued on for a long time. His great strength increased her dread. She lay in the blackness, with nothing to occupy her but terror and her growing need to urinate. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- When he stopped again he just lifted her from the trunk and put her on the ground. She had to lean against him until she regained her feet. He held her arms tightly and muscled her along, she stumbling and making very muted cries through her gag, up a few stairs, then down what seemed like many, and around, to a place that smelled damp. He pulled off the stocking cap, untied the belt, let her spit out the ball, and undid her hands. The lights blinded her for a moment, though they were not bright. She was in a large room with concrete walls and floor. No windows. Some doors came off from it. She backed away from him, looking for an escape route, and he let her. "After you try to escape, I'm going to punish you for it. Severely. Remember that." Still she ran to the nearest door. It was made of metal painted to look like wood, and it was locked. She was desperate and ran to another. Same result. She put her back to it. "You will regret that. You *will* learn to obey and please me. Now, come to the middle of the room and strip off all your clothes." She didn't move, of course, which pleased him to no end. This would be so much fun. She finally managed to talk: "What are you doing? If it's money you want we can get it for you. You can't get away. The police will find you." All the old lines from B-movies, but they were all she could dredge up. His only answer was to pull out a long, leather whip he had been holding behind his back and slash her across the hips. She screamed a hoarse, short, lovely sound, grabbed herself around the middle with both arms, doubled over, held herself tight. She was trying not to cry, not succeeding, and her mouth was twisted oddly. "Now, you'll step to the middle of the room and strip off your clothing. Then I'll punish you for trying to escape." She crept to the center, still crying, her eyes rheumy, saying now "please, please" through twisted lips. Her crying had become stuttering gasps and hiccups, interspersed with snuffles. Maybe she would be too easy to master? He didn't do anything, so she began unbuttoning her blouse. She had trouble pulling the tail out because the pants were too tight. She unsnapped and unzipped the pants, finished unbuttoning the blouse, and slipped it off. She didn't know just what to do with it, so held it off from herself, still crying, still begging "please." "Just drop it," he said. "You won't be needing it any more." At those words she stood completely still. Then she fell to the concrete floor. "Oh please dear God don't kill me. Dear God, I'll do anything for you." She was having a hard time talking, because of the crying. "I'll do anything you want. Isn't it enough you took my daughter? Please don't do this..." and so on. He used the whip again, to shut her up. Again she shrieked and tried to hold herself very still, but put both her hands before her eyes and rocked back and forth. "You'll do anything I say anyway. Now you'll stand up and take off the rest of your clothes and get ready for your punishment. If you try to cover yourself with your hands it'll go worse for you." She rose slowly, crying but no longer begging. He thought that was too bad, because when he struck her his penis gave him a jolt. She bent to untie her walking shoes, then slipped them off. It was a bad position. She stood on one leg to pull the other show off and almost fell both times. She was shaking, which made it worse. She pushed down the tight slacks, pulling her panties part way down with them, then yanked the panties back up. She reached behind to unsnap her bra and hung her head while she removed it and let her breasts drop into view. They were medium sized, well defined like pears, with large, dark brown areolas, around which were a few almost black hairs. She thought she couldn't stand for him to look at them. Finally she pulled off her panties, revealing her large muff of mousy brown hair, untrimmed for any bathing suit. She stood with her arms at her sides, sniffling. She was still shaking, shivering, not from cold. Everything was in a pile on the floor. He walked up to her. "You don't ever resist or avoid me. I decide what happens to you. And you only talk if I want you to." He had not raised his voice at any time. With that, he ran his palms over her breasts making circular motions. He pinch her nipples hard to get them to stand erect. She winced and held her breath and didn't move. He ran his fingers lightly from her breasts down her belly to her muff. He grabbed a thick plug of pubic hair and yanked it out, at which she gasped and whimpered. He moved his hand up to her face, caressed her cheek, caressed her lips with his right thumb, made her open her mouth and suck in his thumb. When she did that she started crying again, but still managed to hold herself still. "Now let's kiss sweetly." His face was right up to hers and she stared at his mouth. She wanted to keep hers closed from that, but she was afraid. He said "open your lips" and put his mouth on hers. She forced hers open and felt his tongue move into her mouth, licking her tongue, her lips, the inside walls of her mouth. She could smell his breath. His mouth had a strong taste. She almost gagged. "Raise you arms above your head. No. As far up as you can raise them." She raised her arms and noticed for the first time that black leather cuffs descended from rings in the ceiling, held by ropes. She tried to hold still while he cuffed her wrists, but she was shaking too much, and he had to hold them steady himself. Once he had her cuffed he walked to a spot on the wall that the ropes came to, and pulled until she was all but off the floor, her toes barely touching. He tied off the ropes. He tied other ropes to her ankles and used them to pull her legs out toward rings set in the floor, until her feet were off the floor and she was stretched between hands and feet. The immobility frightened her still more. Was this when he killed her? The stretching pressed her bladder. In a tiny voice she said "I have to go to the bathroom." He hit her across the belly again with the whip. This time she cried loudly and swayed back and forth in her bindings, unable to make any other movements. "You never talk unless I tell you to. And you hold whatever you've got until I give you permission to go. What do you have to do?" A tinier voice: "Wet." "You can wait until tomorrow for that." She wouldn't have it that long, and this would be exquisite. He approached her again and caressed her breasts very gently, then squeezed and kneaded them and pulled on her nipples. He wet the nipples with his saliva and when they were slippery he pulled them out until they popped loose from his fingers. She turned her head away, which was hard to do as her arms pointed upward in a pyramid form and her upper arms pressed on her ears. She continued to quake and occasionally to moan quietly, but mostly she whimpered. He caressed her armpits, smooth from a recent shaving. He put his face in one and inhaled. He licked it thoroughly, then he nipped just the top layer of flesh until he broke the skin. He did the same to the other pit. He licked the drops of blood that formed. "You won't use anti-perspirent anymore. It want to taste you." He moved down her belly, licking it and giving more nips, at each of which she returned a louder, sharper whimper, giving the entire interaction the appearance of a sweetly and sensually choreographed love scene. When he rose he did not look sweet, though. "You are fat," he said severely. "You have a gut and your thighs are completely lumpy. That won't last long, though. When I'm done with you, you'll be as trim as any eighteen year old." He left for a minute, then returned with a paper bag, a clothes basket, and what looked like a large suitcase. He stuffed all her clothes into the paper bag, stripped, and carefully folded his clothing before putting it all in the basket. He had a somewhat hairy body, very muscled, with some fleshiness. She didn't want to see his penis but couldn't turn away from it, and there it was, dark and long and round, pointing almost straight at her, instead of curving upwards like her husband's. The head was large, too, and the back of it flanged out dramatically. His balls were large and especially hairy. She knew what was coming. He spread some lubricant on his shaft, played with himself for a minute, then applied a gob of lubricant to her vagina, pushing fingers in, pulling on her labia, thumbing her clitoris. She jerked at the stimulation and said "no, please, no." He slapped her hard across the face, twice, to make her stop. He lined up his penis, got it to the entrance of her vagina, and pushed up into her with one smooth, slow thrust. His penis was so big that it made her grunt. She felt it bump against her cervix. Feeling him up and inside her, tight all the way, she started to cry openly again. He made her open her mouth and gave her deep French kisses. She just hung there until he made her kiss him back, pushing her tongue into his mouth and sliding it over and around his tongue, sucking on his tongue, tasting his strong taste and breathing his breath and drinking his saliva. He made her hold her tongue in his mouth while he bit it. When she jerked it back, he grabbed her left breast and twisted almost all the way around until she pushed her tongue back in and held it there while he chewed on it. She was trying to scream during this, but his mouth muffled her cries. Her bladder was bursting, cramping, feeling like she held an electric wire in her urethra. She didn't think she could hold it much longer. Her shoulders were starting to ache. He began fucking her faster, and came for a long time, pushing upward so hard that his penis and hips lifted her, taking some pressure off her arms for a moment. "That was the first orgasm you're going to give me tonight." He murmured it gently into her ear. Then, without any ceremony, he pulled out of her, reached into the suitcase for a long, thick leather belt, and started whipping her. There was no hurry to his whipping. He swung the belt very hard and it made a splatting sound as it hit. She jumped and yelled that hoarse scream at the first stroke. There was plenty of time to feel it before the next one, and again before the next. She again screamed "please, no, God," and all the rest, though only in short bursts because the belt knocked the wind from her. The belt was three inches wide, and he covered her pretty evenly, beginning at her collarbone and moving steadily down to her knees, taking special care for the insides of her thighs. Before he was halfway down, she was only shouting "oh" at each stroke, so quickly was her energy drained. She was gasping, choking, and had begun sweating so much that a fine spray broke from her at each stroke. It was when he hit right at her bladder that she pissed all down her legs. He stopped for just a moment, took her face between his hands and, looking her right in the eyes, told her : "For disobeying me and not showing any discipline, I'm going to double your punishment." When he finished the front he went around back and whipped her from the base of her neck down to the backs of her knees. The force of the strokes caused her to swing back and forth. After he reached her knees he went around to the front and started over. She never stopped crying "oh" as the belt hit her. When he was finally finished he inspected her red body like it was a miraculous find, pulling, pinching, and rubbing skin. His fingers came away with blood. She hung like a sack, gasping, not even whimpering anymore. "That's the way I like you," he told her. He was fully erect again, and fucked her again, but she didn't react, so he held her head up and made her suck his tongue again. She was so tired she could hardly do it, and when he bit her tongue she hadn't the strength to pull it back. When he came again his prick again lifted her, but she was just a rag doll. Still, when he came at her again with the broad belt a few minutes later she did say, in just the tiniest whimper and for the last time that night: "oh no, please no." He did her just once over this time. When he was done he put the gag back on her, inserted ear plugs, and put the stocking cap on her again. He turned on a white noise machine. Then he turned out the light and left, closing the door behind him, leaving her hanging in the dark.