Condemned

Chapter One Involuntary Recruit Madeline Worth wasn’t enjoying her $175,000, eight-month world cruise tour very much. When the luxury cruise ship with only four hundred passengers docked for three days at the Russian seaport of Saint Petersburg, nearly everyone went ashore with the official Russian guides and headed for the motor coach that would take them to the city and their less than luxurious hotel. Their arrival was to be celebrated by an extravagant cocktail party and equally flamboyant, eight course dinner prepared by a well-known French Chef. Madeline, however, didn’t go with them. Although they were only in the second month of the cruise, he was already bored with the company and although she had known from the beginning that most guests on this sort of cruise were well to do older couples and not smart young people who were able to afford it in terms of time and money. She told the tour guide that she wasn’t up for the fancy feast and elected to stay on the ship until later that evening. Then went through security and headed down the gangway, looking for a decent restaurant that might offer some relief from the rich and fancy food served on board. A clean and well-polished black Mercedes taxi waited at the immigration booth and the driver told her in excellent English that he knew of three superb restaurants and would call ahead for make a reservation for her if she wished. Sitting comfortably in the warm, fine leather rear seat of the Mercedes 550S, Madeline told the driver to make a selection for her, asked if her attire would meet the restaurant’s dress code. “Of course,” he replied with what Madeline thought was an Irish accent. “Relax and try a bit of this,” he said as he poured a light yellow sparkling wine into an elegant crystal tulip glass. Madeline accepted the glass, sampled the aroma, but didn’t taste it. “What is it?” she asked, having experienced some really terrible wines in the past. “This is the pride of Russia: Sovetskoye Shampanskoye,” he said. “In the old days, this was a great luxury. Like perhaps the French Roderer Cristal,” he added with a smile. Madeline sipped a bit and found it better than she expected. “Not Cristal,” she said. “But pretty good. Lighter, I’d say and with more carbonation.” “Indeed,” said the driver, turning in his seat and start to pull the car out into the port traffic. Madeline relaxed into the deep seat. Getting away from the ship and her fellow passengers was a good idea, she thought. The wine was excellent. It wasn’t champagne, but it tasted fine. Her unabashed driver continued his chatter. “Welcome to Russia, I am Alex, at your service for the evening,” he told her. “Your Amex Card is all I need and the fare will be exactly three hundred US dollars for the night, no matter where we go. Okay?” “Fine,” said Madeline, thinking that this was a pretty good deal, considering what she had heard about taxis in most ports and in Russian especially. The black sedan pulled away from the pier and headed for the city as snow began to fall. “Is this your first visit to Mother Russia?” the driver asked. “Yes. It is,” said Madeline. “I’ve been looking forward to this because I do not trust everything I read and there is so much conflicting information.” “Yes, that is true. Our own media is as confused as yours, I suppose,” Alex replied. At some point, they stopped for a traffic light and a man came up to the right side of the car and motioned for the driver to lower the window. Alex did so reluctantly, telling Madeline to remain calm and that this was probably a street person looking for a handout, although the man looked more like military than homeless. The stranger reached in the window, opened the shotgun door and climbed into the cab while the driver protested, but did nothing else when he saw the man flash a leather wallet with some sort of credentials in it. At the same time, another dark figure came to the left side of the car, opened the door next to Madeline and slid into the seat. Madeline saw that it was a woman in a black leather body suit and hood that covered everything but her eyes and that she had a small automatic pistol in her gloved left hand, pointed at the driver’s back, not at Madeline. “What do you want?” Madeline asked, opening her purse and intending to give the woman whatever small amounts of cash she had in Euros and dollars. “Only you,” said the first man from the front seat. “Drive. Take the next left and get onto the autobahn. Go west.” he ordered the driver and the cab moved off quickly into the gathering snow storm. “Lean forward and put your arms behind your back,” the cat-suited woman ordered, swinging the pistol now towards Madeline who complied at once, resting her head on the back of the front seat and hoping this would all end without anyone getting hurt. “There’s about a thousand Euros there,” she said as the woman grabbed her wrists and wrapped a heavy, hinged, single metal band around them, closing the band tightly and engaging an automatic lock that audibly snapped shut. Madeline’s wrists were closely locked together, palm to palm. The woman then took a second metal band, this one slightly larger; a chromed oval with a flat bar connecting the hinge to the locking part. It was a bisected, slightly flat circle of steel and she placed it on Madeline’s left arm, just below the elbow. “Bring your arms together,” she said. “I want your elbows to touch.” “I, I don’t think I can do that,” Madeline said in a shaky voice. She knew this was true only because one of her former and well-to-do British boyfriends had, a few months ago and with her reluctant permission, tied her with expensive, full size, Hermes scarves, using the large silk square to secure her upper arms. The silk was wrapped two or three times around her arms at the elbow and then slowly drawn tight. This took place in a suite at The Savoy, exclusive London hotel, and Madeline remembered her anxious fear about having her arms bound that way. She asked the man, who she knew as Jake, to stop. Instead, he stuffed her sweet mouth with a clean cotton handkerchief and took another huge scarf and tied it into a knot which he stuffed into her protesting mouth as well, to more or less silence her. He pulled the long ends around behind her head, tied it tightly and then brought the ends forward again to cover her eyes. Then pulled off her tight skirt and lacy panties, left the thigh-high hose with the lace tops and raped her, slowly, almost delicately until he discovered that she was not a virgin. Somewhat surprised at this revelation, he then slowly withdrew his rigid c**k and slipped a condom on to it. He applied some sort of lubricant to the condom and, rolling her onto her stomach, took her painfully in the ass while Madeline struggled and moaned into the €600 Hermes gag that she knew was worth more than what she made in an hour at her job. Following the initial awkwardness of this coital encounter, she spent a sleepless night in the hotel bed, additionally bound with his belt and the sashes from two hotel bathrobes. The belt went around her thighs and the bathrobe sashes were used on her ankles and wrists. At intervals during the night he again took her in the back door, by now quite certain that Madeline was on her way to becoming an accomplished, submissive s*x toy. At one point, a few hours after midnight, he removed the gag and asked her if she wanted to use the toilet. She shook her head yes. He untied her feet and walked her into the toilet, sat her down on the seat and asked her if she wanted him to leave. She again nodded “yes.” Assuming that she had nothing more to say, he replaced the soaked cleave gag with a more effective large red ball on a leather strap and noted that his captive seemed more than capable of taking the whole ball into her mouth and still making odd, but accepting noises. In the early morning, the man took out the gag again and asked her if she’d enjoyed the night. Dry mouthed, feeling grossly violated and embarrassed, she only shook her head slowly. Not sure what she had answered, if at all, he asked her if she wanted to stay that way. She nodded her head slowly again, but more emphatically and mumbled that she needed to use the toilet again and take a shower. He tied her tightly to the handicap bars in the shower, left the shower running with warm water and told her he was going out for a shopping trip and would return within the hour. “Don’t go away,” was his exit line. Madeline didn’t even struggle against the bonds. Her wrists were tightly fastened to the steel safety bar behind her and her elbows secured close together with fabric torn from a pillow casing. She dozed in the comforting warm water and was nearly asleep, still kneeling in the shower, when her captor/lover returned. He untied her, dried her carefully, rubbing the soft Turkish towels vigorously between her legs and watching the reaction. From a plastic shopping bag he produced a roll of thin, braided nylon line that he used to tie her thumbs together behind her back, leaving a long loop dangling from the knots. When she protested that she was hurting her, he took a rubber exercise ball from the bag and washed it carefully with soap and water and then stuffed it into her mouth, covered it with several layers of black carpet tape and silenced the complaints. “Get into bed and lie face down,” he ordered, swatting her perfectly rounded rump with the leather loop on a dog chain leash he also apparently just purchased. Madeline complied, whimpering. He tied her big toes together more loosely than her thumbs and then pulled her feet back, forcing her to fully bend her knees and slipped the thumb binding loop over her feet and tied it off, creating the first hog tie Madeline had ever experienced. She moaned. He used the scarves again to press the ball deeper into her taped and stretched mouth and to cover her tearful eyes. Asking her cheerfully if she perhaps needed something more, the man reached under her belly and slowly inserted a vibrating dildo into her already damp cunt. “How’s that?” he asked, laughing. “You keep it in there. Squeeze those muscles tight.” He added. “There’s more.” There was more. It was a soft plug that she could not see, but felt as he introduced it to her already violated anus, using the same perfumed lubricate to ease it up inside and leaving a short hose trailing out between her thighs. “Feel that?” he asked. “Ummm,” Madeline hummed. The plug felt surprisingly good as it seemed to sooth the soreness of the earlier rectal reaming. As she tried to settle herself in the strict hogtie and retain the cunt probe, she felt and heard the man squeeze the rubber bulb at the end of the hose and she felt the inside plug expand. Madeline struggled and whimpered as loud as the gagging ball allowed. “Relax,” Jake said, gently stroking her buttocks and again squeezing the inflation bulb. It felt like her ass was exploding. Madeline wiggled and thrashed on the bed, groaning from the expanding plug and the dildo in her cunt as well. The combination was more than she thought she could stand. At some point, he disconnected the inflation bulb and hose, allowing a small amount of air to escape from the interior plug. This provided a modicum of relief and Madeline stopped her struggle. “Ah,” the man said pleasantly. “I think you need a few more accessories and then we’re done.” He tied a doubled length of the braided line tightly around her narrow waist and then led the ends down over her flat belly, through her p***y, threading them through a small eye in the base of the dildo and pulling them up through the anal divide, looping the rope around the n****e end of the inflated plug. Then he tugged on the rope, pulled it up and tied it off at the back of the waist rope. This rope harness secured both front and back insertions and Madeline gasped as the rope was tightened and knotted.