HypNovember 2023 Writings
Day 27: Kidnap
by moosezilla
Tags:
#cw:noncon
#clothing
#CW:dubious_consent
#memory_play
#microfiction
#chastity
#D/s
#exhibitionism
#halloween
#humiliation
#hypnotic_amnesia
#orgasm_denial
#pov:bottom
#pov:top
#teasing
This one's a little bit different! It's an excerpt from the first chapter of a novel-length fic I'm really hoping to finish and post this year! I believe I posted another excerpt in last year's HypNovember things, too. I clearly stalled a bit on writing it this year, since I've had a whole lot of personal life turbulence (some bad, mostly good and just busy and life transitions!), but am hoping to get back on track with it once I finish up this year's HypNovember project!
cw: kidnapping (obviously); CNC; hypnotic amnesia
I woke up to darkness, feeling hazy, as though I’d been drugged. And it was loud. I could hear whooshing sounds, and the music was really loud. I felt like I was moving. I couldn’t figure out where I was or how I got there. I had no memory of excitedly holding my wrists still to be tied, hopping exuberantly into the trunk, or of handing Quinn my phone to control the vibrator I’d inserted before he started using my triggers. None of those memories were accessible to me at the moment.
No, in the moment, I just woke up, disoriented. I tried to open my eyes only to find them locked shut. No matter how hard I tried, they wouldn’t open. I tried to reach up to my face to check if something was covering them only to find my wrists tied together behind my back. My ankles were similarly bound together, and kicking out at the walls of the space I was in didn’t do anything to free them. I tried to quell my mounting panic. What the hell is going on? Where am I? Am I in a car?
A car would make sense, given the sounds. Maybe in the trunk of a car? Sometimes the sound systems in cars could get very loud in the trunk. I struggled against my bonds experimentally, rolling around slightly, to find that I was in a quite small enclosed space of some sort. So okay. I was bound in the trunk of a car with my eyes stuck shut, somehow. Maybe a blindfold? I didn’t feel anything around my head… but I also couldn’t open my eyes.
I took some deep breaths through my nose, trying to keep myself calm. Should I scream? Would anyone be able to hear me? Who put me here? How did I end up bound in the trunk of a car with no memory? I knew Quinn fucked with my memory sometimes because it was fun as hell for both of us, but counting on this being a scene was risky; if it wasn’t, I was in real danger. Despite the possibility that I was on my way to be murdered, my body couldn’t help but respond to the possibility that this was Quinn’s doing.
Okay, Leigh, think. What did all those public service announcements say to do in this situation? Kick out the taillights? But my feet were bound and my legs were bent without enough space to straighten them. And I couldn’t even see where the taillights would be to kick them out. Maybe try to scream? But that would only tell my kidnapper (or kidnappers…) that I was awake. How long was I out? How far was I from home? My mind was racing.
Fear coursed through my body, and I struggled some more against my bonds out of pure instinct. The rough rope scratched at my wrists and ankles as I struggled, and I longed for the soft leather cuffs I could struggle against at home. Er, no, I wanted to be free and not be in this situation at all, right?
“Come on, Leigh, get it together, you are NOT allowed to get hot from this until you know you’re not about to get murdered, even if you are a kinky bitch” I said to myself. Or at least I tried to say to myself. Just like my eyes, my mouth was stuck shut and my lips would not part even as I struggled to open my jaw. Fuck. Instead of quelling it, the fear was driving my arousal higher. I supposed that even if I were being brought somewhere dangerous by someone intending to do me harm, I might as well allow myself a small amount of enjoyment?
At that moment, almost as if in response to the thought, I felt a gentle buzzing start between my legs. I squealed and struggled involuntarily. In spite of myself, it felt good and I wanted more. At the same time, I broke into a cold sweat thinking about how a vibrator could have gotten there and who might be controlling it.
As I ran through the options for escape in my head, or rather the reasons why every possibility I could think of wouldn’t work, I squeezed my thighs together to try to relieve the mounting pressure between my legs. It only served to tease me and didn’t offer any relief whatsoever. Fucking hell, when this trunk opened, all the kidnapper was going to be able to smell was my arousal. I was well and truly fucked, and the humiliation of my assessment likely being correct made my body flush with arousal even more.
All of a sudden, the sounds around me changed and I started to feel much more jostled about. Like the road had maybe changed from paved to dirt or gravel, or maybe just the pavement was in bad condition? I didn’t know how these things typically sounded from inside the trunk of a car, never having been bound, blinded, and gagged in one before. All I knew was that I was getting bounced around and it was bringing the crampedness of the space and the soreness of my shoulders to the forefront of my attention.
My panic rose even more. For a scene, Quinn would only need to drive me around the city some. It then occurred to me that the car hadn’t stopped once since I woke up. No stoplights. Fuck. We were on the highway, and now on what seemed like a rural road. The glimmer of hope that this was some game or scene orchestrated by my husband started to fade with the realization of just how far from home I probably was. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember telling him about this particular fantasy anyway, and it’s not something he would do without knowing about it. This was real, wasn’t it? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember how I got here. Tears started to form in my eyes, which was extra uncomfortable given that my eyes couldn’t open to let them out as quickly as they were forming.
Between the fear, pain, and arousal, my body was thrumming at a fever pitch. I was listening hard for any clues about where I was being taken, but I couldn’t make anything out over the driving sounds and the sound system in the car. I gave up on trying to figure out what was going on through the haze of half my senses being bombarded with too much information while the other half were inaccessible to me and just focused on trying to keep my body relaxed to reserve my strength. Every few minutes, the ever-present-but-not-enough stimulation had me writhing and moaning with need through my sealed lips. I kept forcing myself to relax, but the gentle vibrations right against my g-spot continued to send pleasure rippling through me, driving the tension in my body up again and again.
Finally, I felt the car slow and stop. The sound system shut off, and the quiet felt oppressive. Except for the sound of the vibrator inside me, which, as the only continuing sound, seemed to only grow louder. I heard and felt the car doors open and slam shut, and multiple sets of footsteps crunch over gravel. Silly as it was given how ineffectual it would be, the instincts of a caged animal took over and I made myself as small as possible, cowering up against whichever wall of the trunk was at my back.
The trunk opened as cool air, sunlight, and the smell of trees washed over me. Even with my eyelids stuck closed, I found myself scrunching my eyes even tighter to defend against the assault of the bright light after the darkness of the trunk. I whimpered in both fear and need as I felt fingers snake into my hair and struggled to cooperate with their pulling me unceremoniously into a kneeling position. I groaned as the vibrator settled even more firmly onto my g-spot. I probably should have been more afraid, but I was instead inexplicably comforted when a voice I could barely hear over my whimpering and heavy breathing said something I couldn’t make out and I was suddenly plunged into silence.