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Truly Trapped

Novel By: Cellular

I was a victim, just like millions of others. I don't know how they found me or why. All I know is that I want out and I'll do whatever is necessary to leave. View table of contents...


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Submitted:Jun 13, 2011    Reads: 1,009    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   

I walked home, alone as usual. It had been a busy day at work and I was tired. I let myself into my small, shabby apartment. It was late, past midnight, so I took a shower and went straight to bed. I hadn't bothered to put on pajamas, so I was just in my underwear, but the night was warm enough that I wouldn't be cold. I fell asleep relatively quickly.

I woke up when it was still dark. I noticed three things simultaneously:
1. The shower was running again.
2. There was someone in bed next to me.
3. I couldn't move, see, or scream because I was tied down, blindfolded, and gagged.

I was too terrified to try to break free from the restraints. I felt the person next to me shift weight and then felt fingers on the inside of my thigh, making me regret not putting on pajamas.

"I know you're awake," a deep voice said in my ear. His fingers slowly ran up the inside of my leg, over the top of my underwear, and up my stomach to my breasts, tracing a circle around my navel on the way. "Very nice," he said, fondling me. "How considerate of you to make this easier for me." I heard someone chuckling across the room, probably from the chair that sat next to my dresser. That meant that there were at least three of them, unless they had turned on the shower and left it running. That theory flew out the window when the shower turned off.

"Can't you keep your hands to yourself?" the showering man said as he walked in my bedroom.

"Can't you cover yourself up?" the man next to me said. The man in the chair chuckled again. Bed Man removed his hand. By the way his weight shifted, I guessed that he had sat up to lean against my headboard. Unexpectedly, he pulled off the blindfold. I looked around. There were four men in the room besides myself. Shower Man had pulled a towel around his waist and was digging through a backpack on the floor, pulling out clothes. His hair was still wet, so it was hard to tell what color it was exactly, but it was dark and short. Bed Man was wearing paint-splattered jeans and a grey t-shirt. He was bald with dark eyes. Chuckles was sitting in the chair, like I guessed. He had longer hair than Shower Man, and it was a light brown color. He was too far away for me to tell the color of his eyes, but he was wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Standing next to him in the corner was a man with dark brown hair wearing grey sweatpants and a blue t-shirt. His hands were behind his back and he was staring at the ceiling.

Shower Man stood up and pulled on jeans and a faded red button-down shirt. Then he sat on the bed next to my right foot, which was tied to the bedpost.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions," he said to me, stroking my calf. My muscles all seemed to tense up. "My name is Jake. That is Scott," he nodded at the other man on my bed, "and that is Sam and Kyle." He nodded first towards Chuckles and then towards the man standing next to him. "We are here for a very specific reason," Jake continued. "We have come to take you with us." My muscles tensed up even more than I thought was possible.

"Someone suggested that we might find you…entertaining," Scott said, leering at me.

"We will be doing things to you that you won't like, and you won't be able to stop us." Jake looked me right in the eye before he spoke again. "I promise you that." He stood up and turned to Scott. "Alright, let's take her and go. Sam, did you pack up enough of her things?"

"Yeah, it's in the kitchen."

"Alright, I'll grab that and the food. Scott, you bring her and Sam, you make sure you watch Kyle. I doubt that he'll try anything again, but you never know." Jake left, grabbing the backpack on the way. Scott pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his jeans. He cuffed one of my wrists, untied that arm, pulled it over to cuff my other wrist, and untied that one as well. He untied my legs and pulled me off the bed. "Put your arms up," he told me. I did, and he pulled a sleeveless shirt of mine that I never wore over my head. He managed to feel me up twice while "fixing" it. Then he handed me a pair of sweatpants. I pulled them on wordlessly; I was still gagged. It felt like they had stuck a sock or something in my mouth before tying a bandanna around my head. Scott bent down and tied my ankles together, loosely enough that I could walk but tight enough that I couldn't run. Holding on to my elbow, he walked me outside to an RV, where he picked me up and walked inside.


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