In the Coils of Death
by Johnny Mills
Chapter 2
She was a rabbit or some other small animal, running for her life through the night. She raced through tall grass and around trees and shrubs. The only thought in her mind was the awful urgency to escape from the horror which was pursuing her. She could hear it over her own harsh breathing, steadily coming closer despite her frantic efforts.
She rounded a corner and sprinted into... disaster. Thick hedges loomed on every side but the way she had come from. Desperately she tried to squeeze through a tiny indentation. She could not. Behind her, a loud rustling. She spun around just as something rounded the dark corner and streaked toward her. It was here! Now it shot into a pool of moonlight. It was....!!
Krissy Samuels' eyes snapped open and her body tried to recoil and run. Immediately she gave a muffled cry of agony. As her senses gradually returned and made their reports, she slowly - and with mounting terror - became aware of her situation.
She was sitting on a wooden, straight backed chair. She could move barely at all. Her arms and legs ached horribly. She had a throbbing headache. Most of her clothes were gone; she wore only her light pink brassiere and hi-cut panties. She could not speak or even open her mouth. Her lips were gummed together. A woman was sitting in a more comfortable chair six feet away, smoking a cigarette and smiling at her.
A nightmare? No, not with this kind of physical pain.
Krissy closed her eyes again and tried to bring some sense out of the madness. Gradually she remembered. Gradually specific terror took the place of confusion and undefined dread. She had been kidnapped at the University she attended. She was a prisoner, a prisoner whom the woman sitting across from her had gone to great expense and risk to acquire.
Krissy opened her eyes again, unable to keep a tear from running out of one of them down her cheek. She looked desperately at the woman sitting across from her. Her only hope was to convince, this woman, Ms. Mouri, to take pity on her, to release her, to make this horrible ordeal somehow end. Krissy's eyes, her gagged voice, her very posture in the chair to the extent that she could shape it pleaded for mercy, for help, for freedom.
The dark-haired woman smiled more broadly at the girl's muffled vocal and limited physical pleas. She crushed out the cigarette, pursed her lips together, and parodied Krissy's begging form. "Mmm Mmm Mmm?" She gave a sharp cruel laugh.
Her smile returned as she rose from her chair and swayed over to the younger woman. For a few seconds she merely stood in front of Krissy with her arms crossed, enjoying the sight of her unwilling guest. "Don't be a stupid girl," she admonished. "You aren't leaving." Her eyes softened slightly as they ran over her captive's face and form again. "Yes, beautiful," she breathed.
Then she knelt down and began to inspect Krissy's body and the bonds which confined it. The girl could do little but watch her.
Krissy's feet were not touching the floor. Her legs had been bent at the knees and pulled up and back along either side of the chair, and her ankles were bound in tight sling fashion near the top of the rear chair legs, close to her hips. The woman tickled and scratched at Krissy's soles.. She observed the girl's tiny efforts to move away and saw that Krissy had no chance of getting her ankles free.
Ms. Mouri trailed her nails up Krissy's calves, to where her knees had been tied to the top of the front chair legs. She dug her nails into the flesh above the ropes with calculated cruelty and smiled that there was no movement from the knees despite Krissy's little cries and best efforts.
The fingernails moved on, weaving up Krissy's thighs and then slowly tracing along the leglines of Krissy's panties before one hand suddenly darted in to grab at the girl's crotch.
"Ggggguuummmfff!" Krissy screamed and bucked in the chair, and Ms. Mouri frowned that the girl was able to twist her torso to the extent that she did. The woman's eyes narrowed venomously and her hand squeezed tighter.
Krissy screamed a bit louder and higher and even nodded forward as far as she could, trying to headbutt her tormentor. Ms. Mouri, eyes flashing with anger, stood up and pulled Krissy's head back by her hair with one hand and slapped her hard across the face twice with the other hand. Maintaining her grip on the coed's hair, she then thrust the other hand back down, this time going inside the girl's panties.
Krissy gasped, cried, and shook with sobbing. "Look at me," the woman ordered. Krissy made a sound deep in her throat and kept her eyes squeezed shut. "Look at me!" her captor demanded more loudly, her invadind fingers moving further.
Krissy's eyes opened wide with desperation and shock. "Do not ever attempt to resist me again," the woman commanded. "And do not DARE to attempt to strike me, or you will learn of true suffering. Do you understand?"
Krissy nodded slightly, strands of her hair pulling from her scalp in the woman's strong grip.
Ms. Mouri finally withdrew her molesting hand, slapped Krissy a final time, and then released the girl's hair. Krissy's head fell forward on her chest as she coughed and cried behind her tape gag. Ms. Mouri glared at her for a few seconds. Then her icy calm reasserted itself and she moved around behind the chair.
Ropes above and below the girl's breasts held her upper body tightly against the back of the heavy chair. Behind the chair Krissy's arms somewhat resembled the letter "W." Her arms had been bent up as if she were trying to unhook her brassiere, and her wrists were then crossed and tied together. Extra rope remaining after the knots had been tied at her wrists went up and were tied at a rung at the top of the chair, making it impossible for her to move her arms to a more comfortable position. The briefest of inspections left no doubt that the young woman could never hope to free her arms, which had turned almost purple from the lack of circulation.
Ms. Mouri moved to the side of the chair. Krissy's head was still hanging down, her hair hiding her face. Her body shook slightly as she wept softly. Ms. Mouri's eyes lighted with a vicious pleasure and she started to reach toward the girl. But then she glanced at a grandfather clock in a corner of the room, which showed the time to be almost 11:10. The woman walked to the room's door and called out a name.
Seconds later a man entered the room. Krissy raised her head and recognized him as the man who had brought the trunk into Dr. Dowell's office, had helped put her into it, and then presumably had transported her to this unknown place.
Ms. Mouri spoke to the man in a foreign language, at first in a conversational tone but then with growing anger as she pointed at the captive in the chair. She concluded by gesturing at the clock, again spitting out words of anger.
The man answered softly, bowed slightly, and left the room. Ms. Mouri glanced over at the girl, who looked back at her fearfully. The woman walked over to a desk and got some facial tissue from a box. Walking over to the Krissy, she solicitously wiped the girl's tears away and then knelt by the chair. To the girl's amazement, she then leaned over and rested her head across the prisoner's thigh, her lustrous hair soft on the younger woman's skin. She stayed that way for several seconds, as if asleep.
Then her right hand came up to rest on Krissy's right knee. Ms. Mouri raised her head, looking from the hand to Krissy in feigned amazement. "What can this strange little creature want?" she wondered aloud.
The hand scampered up the girl's leg like a five-legged spider, its nails pecking at her skin. It came to a stop on the girl's stomach and turned back and forth.
"I know," Ms. Mouri said. "The poor little thing is looking for a nice safe place to rest..
The hand turned and moved tentatively to the waistband of the girl's panties. "Oh, it thinks it may have found a place," the woman whispered with cruel happiness. "A nice warm, dark, cozy place. Isn't that nice?"
Krissy could only watch, shaking her head softly as fresh tears gathered in her eyes. The hand's index finger lifted up the waistband of the panties and inched inside. The woman's middle finger started to follow it as the woman watched Krissy's face delightedly.
There was a soft knock on the door. The woman made a curt sound of disgust, then stood and moved away from the chair. She called out one word in the foreign tongue.
Seconds later the man re-entered the room, carrying a small carton which he set down next to Krissy's chair. Ms. Mouri moved over and sat on top of the desk, lighting another cigarette and watching with what was clearly a critical eye.
The first things the man brought out of the carton were more lengths of rope. He used the first one on Krissy's upper right thigh. where the leg joined the torso. Loops of rope went around the leg and then around the rear chair leg on that side. The man pulled with angry force on the rope and then knotted it fast. He repeated the process with another length of rope on Krissy's left thigh. Then he used a third rope to tightly tie the girl's waist against the chair back. What little freedom she had formerly possessed was now gone.
During this Krissy could only glance around the room hopelessly.. Her eyes took in the time displayed by the large clock. Nearly 11:20? The appointment where she had been drugged and abducted had been at 4:00, more than seven hours ago. How long had she lain inside that trunk, taped, strapped, and unconscious? How long had she sat bound to this chair, before finally awakening? How much longer did they plan to keep her here? She doubted that she would be able to stand, let alone walk, if they released her this very minute. And obviously they had no intention of freeing her anytime soon, since her bondage had just been made even more restrictive.
She dimly recalled Dr. Dowell saying that he didn't know what would happen to her - or what had happened to the other girls he had previously procured for Ms. Mouri. One every seven years for how long? "maybe they get sold overseas," the man had guessed. At the moment, that seemed to be the best she could hope for. "God, please help me!" she prayed silently.
Now to her great surprise the man was peeling the tape off of her mouth. She grimaced as the last strip was torn off her full lips. "Huh.... Help me!" she called out, her voice dry and weak. "Help! Someone, please help!"
Neither the man nor the woman seemed concerned in the least by her hoarse pleas for help, and after one more attempt Krissy assumed that her captors knew that no help was anywhere nearby. The girl tried instead to engage the woman in talk, to make her see that she was a human being, not a thing. "Please, why are you doing this? What do you want? Let me go, please! I promise I won't say anything to anyone! Just please let me go!"
Ms. Mouri smiled slightly, smoked her cigarette, and said nothing. Krissy saw the man take a water bottle out of the carton. Some greenish liquid sloshed inside of it. He removed the cap and moved the bottle toward Krissy's mouth. After the clandestine drugging which had prededed her abduction, Krissy had no intention of accepting a drink from these people. She clamped her lips together and snapped her head to the side after firmly barking out "No!"
The man grabbed the hair at the back of her head and yanked back sharply. Her mouth opened slightly as she gave voice to her pain, and the btlle top was jammed in. Krissy swallowed some of the liquid and had some go into her lungs. She choked and coughed heavily, with liquid coming out of her nose and mouth.
The man removed the bottle and released her hair. Krissy's head came forward as she gasped and spit and tried to get her breath. Liquid ran down her chin, breasts and belly, pooling on the chair's seat. The man caught hold of her hair again. "Drink or drown, she-dog," he snarled.
This time the young woman kept her mouth closed despite his pull. Her eyes swiveled toward Ms. Mouri. Perhaps the woman would not want to see her harmed. Perhaps at least to that extent she would come to Krissy's aid.
And in fact the woman did crush out her cigarette and come forward. But her eyes were hard; her mouth thin and determined. As the man continued to pull on Krissy's hair, she stepped up beside the captive on the other side. Her left hand went onto Krissy's chin, with her thumb on one side of the girl's face and her long fingers on the other side. She dug these into Krissy's skin at the places where her upper and lower jaws met behind her teeth, simultaneously pressing down on the girl's chin with her palm. Krissy's mouth opened and she screamed as loudly as she could.
The sound was muffled an instant later as Ms. Mouri's lips came down on Krissy's. Her tongue darted into the shocked girl's mouth for a second. Then Ms. Mouri pulled her head back up. For a few seconds her teeth closed around Krissy's lower lip and that was pulled up as well. At last the woman released her teeth and withdrew her face.
"Pour slowly," she ordered the man. "Give her time. And you!" she moved back into Krissy's sight. "You ARE going to drink."
She placed her right hand on Krissy's forehead, the long nails of her thumb and index finger on either side of the girl's left eye. "If you do not drink now, I will pull out your eye and make you swallow that first! Drink!"
The hands pulled on her hair and pressed on her chin and forehead. The fingernails dug into her cheeks and hovered around her eye. The bottle pressed between her lips. Krissy drank.
The liquid was thick, almost syrupy. Krissy tasted camomile, but overriding that was a tart flavor which she didn't recognize. When the bottle was empty Ms. Mouri returned to her former place at the desk and lit another of her cigarettes.
The man pulled a hunk of cloth out of the carton and began to wipe up the liquid which had spilled onto Krissy's body and the chair. He seemed to spend most of his effort on the girl's brassiere and panties, relatively small indignity which the girl accepted with only a few small noises of disgust. But at last Ms. Mouri snarled something at the man. He finished the task hurriedly, then balled the wet rag up and forced it into the coed's mouth despite her efforts to deny it. He then reached into the carton again and brought out a long strip of cloth which he tied around the girl's head and between her teeth to hold the gag's stuffing in place. After knotting the cloth behind Krissy's head with his usual tightness, he placed the empty bottle in the carton and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Ms. Mouri pulled on her cigarette for a minute, watching her captive with mild interest. At last she crushed out the tobacco and sauntered over to stand in front of her prisoner, placing her hands on Krissy's shoulders. "How are you enjoying your job thus far, Ms. Samuels?" she mocked. "I know that first days can be a bit difficult and overwhelming. Please be honest with me. I promise my feelings won't be bruised."
From some reservoir of strength that she didn't know she had, the younger woman felt rage flooding through her, temporarily pushing aside the pain, desperation and fear. She bit down on the gag hard and glared at the older woman fiercely.
"Still a little fight left in you?" Ms. Mouri smiled. "Good. The ones that do nothing but cry are very tiresome. I much prefer stronger young women." She straightened and walked over to a closet. She brought out a stool with a small bag atop it and placed them next to Krissy's chair. Then she went over to stand by the grandfather clock.
"In a moment this clock will play eight notes to mark the half hour," she told the girl. "That will signal that you have thirty minutes left to you before you die. I will try to make that time very... interseting for you. I doubt that you will be bored."
She moved back to stand near the girl. "Your death will not be meaningless, as it otherwise would eventually be. It will grant me seven more years of life, most of them looking as young as you are now. Only near the end of the cycle do I start to age."
The clock began to play its little tune. The small melody which had now been turned into a pre-death knell caused Krissy to flinch slightly. Her eyes darted over to the clock and then back to Ms. Mouri. The anger which had been energizing the girl began to ebb, and the fear to rise again.. Her lips trembled slightly outside of the gag.
"Shall we begin?" Ms. Mouri asked pleasantly.