Chapter 1 - Taken

My buzzer went; I went over to it and pressed the talk button.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello, I am sorry to trouble you, I am looking for a Mr Hargreaves, and this is the address I have, for him?” the female voice enquired.

“Mr Hargreaves speaking. How can I help you?” I asked, politely.

“It is a private matter; may I come up and speak with you, in private?” She asked me.

“Yes, is there anything wrong?” I asked.

“No, no, on the contrary,” she replied.

“Floor three in the lift,” I said, and pressed the door release, opening the door for her, and I opened my door, and stood by it.

My eyes opened wide as she emerged from the lift, no matter what it was, I was glad I had opened the door to her.

She was about five feet ten inches tall, and had raven black hair, classical features, and a body to die for, large prominent breasts, and a shapely waist, her hips were in my opinion a bit on the large side, but her legs went all the way up to her bottom, and what shapely legs they were, stiletto heels on her feet, a good six inches making her over six feet tall, as she stood before me smiling, a warm, sexy smile.

Her red lips were full, and very inviting, I managed to move my eyes off her cleavage up, to look into her deep, blue eyes.

“May I come in, please?” she asked in her sexy voice.

“Oh, oh, yes, please do, erm, erm, have a seat. Can I offer you a drink, tea, coffee, or something stronger?” I asked eagerly.

She was used to the reaction men had when she first met them, she knew she was a very pretty woman, and had a figure which made men drool, and made the most of it, allowing a substantial amount of cleavage to be displayed, it also had another use. It distracted the men from what she had in mind, for them, as I found out later.

“Yes please that would be very nice. May I have a tea, please, no sugar, thank you,” she said, sitting on the easy chair, I had indicated.

I made the drinks and placed hers on the coffee table, and had another look down her cleavage as I placed the cup in front of her.

“Thank you,” she said, and took a sip, leaving red lipstick on the rim of the cup.

“So, it isn’t bad news, from what you said, it is good news?” I asked, probing her.

“You could say that it is, but I will require to see proof, of identity, before I can continue. Do you have a passport?” She asked me.

“Yes, I will have to get it, won’t my driving license do? It is a photo one?” I asked, reaching into my back pocket for the license.

“No, I am sorry it is a legal matter, and I really do need to see your passport,” she replied.

“Sorry, I didn’t ask your name?” I asked.

“It isn’t really relevant, at this moment in time. I will tell you later, when you need to know it,” she said, using her disarming smile on me.

“Oh, oh, yes, of course, the passport,” I said and left her, going to the bedroom.

I don’t know what it was, her disarming smile or my infatuation with her tits, but I did as asked, not wondering why she had refused as it were to tell me her name, this would have raised alarm bells in the minds of most people, but not me, I was too infatuated by her.

As usual when you want something it has found a hiding place, and I checked three drawers before I managed to find it. I smiled and went back to her.

As I entered the lounge area I noticed that the blinds had been drawn and there seemed to be a few people in there, I entered cautiously.

“Mr Hargreaves, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine, they have completed their work, and have joined me. Please, sit down,” she said indicating a seat and then held out her hand for the passport, which I gave her.

I sat down as indicated between two very attractive ladies, who smiled at me. I was still entranced by her and the commanding way she organised me. Was I nervous or fearful? Definitely not, she was a dream of a woman, who had captivated me with her smile and large breasts.

“Erm, erm, would you like a drink, tea, erm, coffee?” I asked the others nervously.

“No thank you,” the blonde on my left said, I turned to the other one.

“No, thank you,” she said, as did the one stood by the door.

Yet another indication I missed, looking at the four pairs of demi exposed tits, their sexy attire and cleaver use of make-up did as it was meant to do, in disarming males, who usually turned to jelly at the sight, of these lovely ladies, let alone to be in their company.

As I said, all four of them were very attractive, without describing them individually; they all had a well-developed and prominent bust, trim waists and shapely legs. They all wore a two piece business styled suit, with an ‘A’ Line or straight skirt, a blouse in white, with the top buttons undone, and stiletto heels on. I couldn’t take my eyes off them, everywhere I looked, and it was a sight to behold. Which took my mind off the blinds now being closed, as she had intended, as I mentioned earlier, ‘a large expanse of bust, takes your mind off other things,’ and there were four expanses, for me to view.

I hadn’t realised it, but she was now in charge of me, my situation and me personally, yet it was my home, they were the visitors, not me. It was as if I had been hypnotised by them, or at least their appearance.

“Ok girls, we have the right person,” she said abruptly, but with a smile for me, I smiled back.

That was when the two next to me took and arm each and pulled it behind my back, then I felt the cold of handcuffs being put on me, and they pulled me back in the seat.

“W, what, what is going on, you didn’t say that I was to be arrested? You said that it was nothing to do with the police,” I said fearful.

“It was a partial lie. It has nothing to do with the police, but I am arresting you, and taking you into custody, but not legally,” the woman said, and she said it smiling at me which made me all the more nervous.

“That doesn’t make any sense, I will call for help,” I said, making to get up, that was when I saw the woman to one side with her thumbs up her skirt and she was pulling her panties down.

The woman next to me had her hand up her skirt and was playing with herself and the other one was pulling me onto her knee and holding me down. I began to struggle, but the first woman also joined in helping hold me down as the one from the side came over to me and grabbed hold of my balls, and began to squeeze them hard. I opened my mouth to cry out, and she stuffed her panties in, and put her hand over my mouth.

The one next to me was now moaning and then she stood up and I saw her massaging her clit hard and fast, as she moaned and moaned and then she smiled and said, “Ah, yes, yes, yes, oh yes.”

Then she put her thumbs up her skirt and removed her panties and pushed them in my mouth as well, the wet patch brushed against my lips as she stuffed them in.

The first woman looked at the one to the side, and she produced a roll of tape, and taped my lips up with three strips. I was now in serious trouble, being gagged and handcuffed.

The woman next to me pushed me upright and the first woman knelt on the settee, her knees on either side of me, and sat on my lap, she was smiling.

“We can do this the hard way, which up to now you have elected to happen, or the easy way. We are going to take you to our place, where I will interview you about some serious activities, of yours. Then we will have a trial, at which the evidence will be presented, and you will be judged on the evidence. Found guilty, you will be imprisoned, for the period decided upon by the judge, and any other things she requires, for your sentence.

Now, the question is will you come with us, or do we have to take you along? We are very capable of taking you, but it will be far more comfortable, for you that is, if you come willingly,” she told me.

Let us face it, with four voluptuous busts to look at, and four equally ample cleavages to stare down, my mind was not on whether or not I would do as told, more which bust I could lay my head on, or which nipple to suck first? Until her words penetrated my addled brain.

I just looked at her aghast, what where they on about? Trial, accused, arrested, and for what, was going through my mind, and not her question, at that point in time. So she took it that I was to be taken.

I was hauled to my feet and she put what I can only describe as a hood, a triangular hood over my arms, it came up to my shoulders, she then fastened some buckles on it pulling my elbows in tightly, two straps went over my shoulders and clipped to the top of the hood, making sure it didn’t slide down, and then she fastened a belt around my waist, and again pulled it tight, holding my arms fixed.

“Nappy,” she said, and one was handed to her.

She began to undo my trousers, and I decided that it was time to act and kicked out at her shin. My hands in handcuffs and that hood or sleeve on my arms meant that I had left it too late, and that is how disarming these beautiful women were. She stepped back, and waited until my foot was on the floor, and then stepped on it with her stiletto heel, and began to press.

“You have slippers on, they would not have hurt me, but my stiletto heel, will hurt you. Now do I press hard enough to go through your foot, or will you behave, kick out at me again, and I will push my heel right through your foot,” she told me aggressively, and pressed down hard, I moaned from the pain.

She took her foot off, and carried on pulling my trousers and underpants down, and put what she had called a nappy, on me. I was embarrassed to say the least, a strange woman half stripping me and putting some towelling between my legs, was not the erm, done thing, shall we say? Then she pulled my trousers up, and fastened them again, whilst two of the other women now held onto me tightly.

“Blindfold,” she said, holding out her hand, and a plaster was placed in her hand, she took the backing off, and smiled at me, and then covered an eye with it, she held her hand out again, and another one was placed in her hand, and she covered the other eye.

“Hood,” she said, and I imagined her holding out her hand, and then I felt the hood going over my head and being fastened.

“Collar,” she said, in her demanding tone, and I imagined her holding out her hand for it to be placed into it, and I felt it going around my neck. I then heard the click of a pad lock, she pulled the hood down and worked on my neck, I think she fastened the hood to the collar. Then I was pushed down back onto the settee. She must have knelt down as I felt one of them sit on my lap and someone grip an ankle.

“ Shackles,” she said and I again imagine her holding out her hand and some being placed in her hand, and then I felt them being fastened around my ankles, “There now, just as I like them, trussed up, gagged and blindfolded, unable to hit out at me, nag at me, or look down my cleavage. I do realise that it is a very nice cleavage, more of a chasm, but unless I ask, suggest, or dictate, the person to peer down it, I object,” she said.

I felt the settee rise next to me and then sink again, a hand was placed on my lap and she pulled me into her, and slapped my face hard, but softened by the hood, she slapped it again and again, until my face stung, even though it had the hood, protecting it.

“Just think; you could have come with us, walked to the car and got in, and sat in the back seat, after relieving yourself here, in the toilet. You chose not to come with us, instead you asked us to take you, which as you have found out we are more than willing to do, and very capable of doing. Actually I prefer it when they ask us to take them, it stops them asking where are we going, and why are we going there.

The answer to both of those questions, like my name, will be answered later, now you are trussed up, and will I am sure wet your pants, rather the nappy; we put on you, like a baby.

In your cell there is a bucket, but you chose not to go with us, so you will not be able to use it, will you? Trussed up like this. I also have the opportunity to slap your face, at first it doesn’t hurt much, but as the slaps continue, then it gets sore, and the more I slap it, the more it hurts,” she told me, and slapped me repeatedly as she was talking, and she was right, by now I had a very sore cheek.

Again I felt the settee rise this time on both sides and then sink again, and I was pulled to the other side, and she began again slapping my face making the other cheek, just as sore.

“Your face will now sting, I do not like it when someone kicks out at me, you were going nowhere, not trussed up, gagged and with four very sexy, and capable women in the room with you. It was a pointless exercise, in futility. I moved, and now you have a sore face. You can nod and shake your head, so, was it pointless?” She asked me, I nodded, “Good, I am glad we agree on that point,” she added, and let go of me pushing me upright again.

“Number three go down to the front door and keep watch, number two occupy the lift, when we are ready to leave, number four you get the car and bring it as close as possible to the front door,” she said organising them, “I will bring this along. I am sure he will try something else, and I want to be there to punish him, when he does. My name by the way is Bitch. I am sure as time goes on that is what you will be calling me, under your breath, if I ever hear it, you will be so, so sorry,” she told me.

I couldn’t do anything, her looks and those of her friends had mesmerised me, and disarmed me, and I had fallen into her trap, the sexy voice, getting me to let her in, the excuse that she needed my passport, so that she could let her friends in, whilst I was out of the room. I had been a fool, taken in by a sexy woman. I suppose I was not the first, nor will I be the last. Even blindfolded I could still see, in my mind’s eye, those two monsters pointing at me, and that deep, deep cleavage, they were ski slopes.

I don’t know how long we sat there, it wasn’t a short period of time, whilst they chatted and drank my coffee, or tea, I was basically immobilised, sat between the first woman and one of the others, bound from the waist up, she was right I couldn’t ask to go to the toilet, and when the urge became too much I wet myself, and felt ashamed, and moaned.

“There, there,” she said, as if consoling a child, “It won’t be long now. We just have to wait for the down pour that is on its way, and most of the residence to go to bed. We don’t want to be seen taking you out now, do we?” She asked.

Time passed until she got up, “Ok, it has started to rain now, we can go,” she said, and I heard them moving about.

I was grabbed and pulled to my feet; she threw something over my head and then led me out.

“Clear,” one of the women said, and then I was in the lift with two of the women, she stopped, and again I heard someone say that it was clear, and I was pushed and shoved out of the lift and down the short corridor to the front door and outside, it was pouring down, a very heavy shower. I didn’t get wet, she must have thrown a coat over me, and perhaps used an umbrella, as well, she had used the rain as cover for all the shackles she had put on me, and my face and head were covered by the thing she had thrown over me, and my hands just the shackles on my ankles would have been visible, but in the dark and rain even those, would not be that visible. I was completely at her mercy and none of it was visible to an outsider they were good, very good.

She pushed my head down and told me to get in the back seat, guiding me, she then got in beside me, and pushed me up, until I felt another of the women sat on the other side and beside me, and one of them got in it may have been her then the front door closed and we were all in the car, and I was trapped between two of them as well as being shackled.

The car started and we were off. At first I knew where we were going as she twisted and turned out of the area, and onto the main road out of town. We drove on and on for a long time, then turned off that road. I now had no idea where we were. She took several turns and from the bumps, I presumed that we had taken a side road. Then it was a good road, fast and even. After again quite some time, we turned off onto a side road again.

“I can’t hold on any longer, we will have to stop, so I can have a pee,” One of them said.

“It is pouring down, you’ll get soaked,” another of them said.

“If we don’t I am going to piss myself,” she replied.

“Pull over, I have an idea,” the first one I met said.

The car stopped and I felt movement as the first woman must have collected something from the front of the car.

“Here, put this over your clit, and the spout in here, and piss, but don’t let it rush out, take your time so as not to overfill, the funnel,” the first woman said.

It was strange as I felt movement, and then the sound of someone pissing into a bottle via a funnel. It stopped and there was movement. I would have said that she passed the bottle to the first one, whilst she adjusted her dress.

“Luckily I had used my panties as a gag, and didn’t need to pull them down,” she said, “Now what? Put the top on and get rid of it later?” she asked.

“No, I have a much better idea,” the first one said.

I felt my trousers being undone, and then my shirt being pulled up and someone pulled the top of the nappy open, and she poured the contents of the bottle down into my nappy, it was a nasty trick to pull, as I felt the warm liquid being poured into the nappy, and then she let the waist band close and adjusted my dress.

“By now it will already be wet, down there. It also frees the bottle in case one of you needs to use it again, and my prisoner does not object, do you?” she asked me, patting the side of my face, I nodded.

“Oh, you mean you do object? Well it is too late now, isn’t it? Because you objected, I will have to see if anyone else needs a piss as I am sure they will do, and when they do, you now know where it will be going, don’t you?” she asked me, and patted my face again.

What could I do, trussed up, gagged and blindfolded, I just had to take whatever she doled out to me, perhaps to object was not the right thing to do, but at least I was being honest.

Someone else used the bottle, and that also went down my nappy, and she patted my face again making sure I knew she was in total control. Finally we arrived at our destination, and she stopped the car. The front passengers got out and I heard a door closing, and then the first one got out, and the other one sat next to me pushed me, telling me to slide over and get out. I did as told, soaking and very uncomfortable.

She must have attached a lead to the collar; I felt a tug and began to follow her, with two of the women, one on either side of me, taking an arm each and directing me. We went down some stairs, and along a corridor then left, and it seemed that at every junction they opened a door, and then locked it before carrying on. Down that corridor another turn and a short way down that corridor and then there was the squeak of hinges, and I was led into a room, because she stopped me after a few steps. There was the rattle of chains, and the click of a pad lock, and then she patted my face.

“This will be your cell for tonight, you won’t need a bucket, and there is a bed over here, come on I will help you lie down. Tomorrow I will begin the interrogation. Depending on how that goes, you could be in the court room by tomorrow afternoon, all being well. Then again unless I get the answers I am looking for, it may take a bit, or even a lot, longer, before you enter the courtroom. Your trial will decide if you are guilty or not, if not, we will take you home that evening.

I suggest that to reduce the time you spend in here, suffering, that you comply with my request, and that you tell me everything, and quickly. I will change the nappy as and when I decide you have suffered enough, wearing one,” she told me and left the cell. I moved forward and the chain attached to my collar snagged, stopping me from moving, too much.

I lay on the bed and tried to go to sleep, it wasn’t easy, fear, and a wet nappy makes sleeping difficult. Especially when you have no idea what she is talking about. I have never knowingly upset a female, I have definitely never hit a woman, and ok banter, jokingly, I have occasionally upset a woman, but I have apologised afterwards which they accepted, so what the fuck is she taking about, my crimes.