The Violation of Vicky’s Volition

I awoke to a strange smell of damp, feeling chilly and uncomfortable. I could feel cold air over all of my body. I struggled to open my eyes, feeling groggy and a bit weird. Eventually I managed to open them and found myself in an unfamiliar place – was I dreaming? I was lying on something cold and uncomfortable in a dimly lit, stone walled room. Looking down I saw I was in the underwear I had gone to bed in, but I was definitely not in my bed anymore. Instead, I was lying on top of a rusted metal bedframe without a mattress and the wire base and springs were digging into my bare back rather painfully. Where the hell was I?

As I managed to focus my eyes more I could see another person lying the end of the bed. She was slumped lifelessly against the stone wall with her arms behing her back and her head tipped over, blonde hair obscuring her face. The woman was wearing pyjamas but her small feet were bare. I tried to prop myself up, feeling a little weak and struggling to push up of the wire as my elbows slid through the large gaps.

“Hey” I called out to the woman “wake up!”

She didn’t respond. I eventually managed to get myself sat up and reached out towards her. As I did so, I realised around my wrist was a heavy iron shackle, secured with a padlock. A length of chain attached to the shackle and extended behind me. Looking back I could see it was bolted into the stone wall. The chain was sufficiently long for me to reach out and put my hand on the woman’s shoulder. I shook her.

“Hey!” I said again, more forcefully “Are you okay?”

The woman’s head slowly turned, not looking up initially, while she processed her situation for a second or two, I assumed experiencing the same confusion I had just passed through myself. Then she jumped and pushed herself into the corner of the bed with her feet, curling her legs up, making herself into a ball desperately trying to get away from me and she apparently struggled to move her arms. She stared up and me, with a terrified expression on her face, and it was only then that I recognised her.

“Vicky!?” I asked, surprised.

Vicky was a friend of my spouse whom I had met not long after we started dating. She was a polite, unassuming woman in her thirties who had known my wife since her student days, having moved from Belfast to our home town. She was petite and slim built with natural golden blonde hair and had brown eyes, large relative to her other facial features, almost resembling a Japanese anime character. She was wearing cotton pyjamas, comprising long trousers and a long sleeved, button up top with a high cut collar made of a gingham print fabric. I didn’t know Vicky terribly well, but we were familiar enough, having spent plenty of time in each other’s company with our spouses. Yet, Vicky still looked confused and fearful.

“Where am I? How did I get here?” she pleaded in the mellowed Northern Irish accent she still retained.

I took my hand of her shoulder and held my palm up to her, trying to convey that I didn’t mean her any arm and to illustrate through my shackle that I was as much a captive here as she was.

“I don’t know.” I answered her, trying to remain calm “I just woke up here.”

“Why aren’t you dressed?” she asked suspiciously, noticing I was almost naked.

“It’s how I went to bed.” I responded, feeling a little self conscious as my state of undress before her. I motioned my head towards her “You?”

Vicky, looking down, noticed what she was wearing and nodded her head.

“Same. I can’t move my arms.” she said relaxing a little and leaning forwards.

I looked behind her back and could see she was restrained with hand cuffs. They were rigid and apart from a slight gap around her wrists, afforded her no room to move her hands or arms significantly.

“Do you know how we got here?” she asked me, her voice calming a little but still clearly unsettled.

I had no answer. I remembered going to bed as normal on Monday evening and the next thing I remembered was waking up here next to her. I rubbed my cheeks for a clue as to how long we might have been here. I could feel some stubble but not much.

“I don’t know, but I’d guess we haven’t been here more than a few hours.” I answered, looking around for more clues.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“Five o’clock shadow.” I answered.

As scary as our situation was, I couldn’t resist a good mystery and my mind immediately began to channel every detective show I’d ever seen… Columbo, Poirot, Morse; perhaps just as a way of managing the stress of the situation. I assumed, based upon our surroundings and the damp smell, that we were below ground – maybe in a basement of some sort. I knew whoever had brought us here must have been known to both of us – the chances of two people being kidnapped at random and knowing each other were astronomical (I guessed). Unfortunately my powers of deduction didn’t go further than that. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud cry from Vicky who was, unlike me, not anchored to the wall and who had got up off the bed and walked over to a blue, rusted, metal door at the far side of the room, perhaps 5 meters away from where I was chained up.

“HELP!!” she yelled at the top of her voice.

Her cry echoed around the room before it fell silent. We both listened carefully but heard nothing in response.

“LET US OUT!!!!” Vicky cried out again, almost hysterically, as she dealt with the stress in her own way, banging the door with her shoulder.

Again the only response was silence. She turned around to face me and kicked the door with her heal defiantly before she began to sob. I didn’t really have any words of reassurance for her. I tried to walk over to her but found that the chain length was insufficient and I was only able to get to the far end of the bed. I stood there and looked around, feeling increasingly cold in only my boxers. The stone floor chilled my feet as I turned around surveying the room. There was a single flickering incandescent bulb hanging from the ceiling but no light switch was apparent. Next to the bed frame was a small, solid wood table. In the centre of the room was a circular drainage grate. Apart from that, there was nothing – other than the door which Vicky was still standing next to.

The door itself had no visible lock but there was a handle was mounted nearer the top than the middle – far too high for Vicky to be able to reach it with her hands cuffed behind her and I couldn’t even get close to it. At the bottom was a slotted hatch and a tray – like the sort of thing prisoners would have food passed through on. I could see something on the tray but couldn’t work out what it was in the dim light. The whole construction looked like a bit of a DIY addition to the door.

“Hey, what’s down there?” I called to Vicky pointing at the base of the door.

She turned and looked then squatted down, wobbling a bit as tried to balance with her hands behind her back.

“Umm, it’s a plastic pot…” she answered, “…and an envelope.”

“Can you pick them up and bring them here?” I asked, intrigued as to what new light these clues might shed on our situation.

“Ummm, not sure. The pot is on a wire going outside…” she answered sounding a little intrigued herself.

“What sort of wire?” I asked, confused and frustrated that I couldn’t just go over and investigate for myself.

“Like a steel wire, it’s looped around the lid. I don’t think I can get it off.” Vicky turned carefully in her squatted position, trying to pick up the items with her bound hands.

After some fumbling she eventually stood up and walked back over to me, turning around with just the envelope in her possession.

“The wire was too short and it wouldn’t come off.” she said as I opened the envelope and removed the paper from inside.

“What sort of cup was it?” I asked as I unfolded the paper.

“Like a specimen cup… y’know like you get at the doctor’s.” she replied.

I read the short note and then held it for Vicky to read herself rather than reading it aloud. I now understood the nature of our situation more clearly. Vicky read the note too.

“That’s sick! YOUR SICK!! she yelled at whoever our captor may be, before commenting to me “It’s not even possible if you’re chained up over here.”

The note had contained the first “clue” in what I now surmised was a twisted, “escape room” presumably designed for the gratification of whoever had drugged and kidnapped the pair of us. The note instructed that in order to receive a key, presumably to our shackles, we had to provide a sample of semen in the aforementioned specimen cup.

“It is possible. It would require teamwork.” I said cryptically, waiting for Vicky to realise exactly how this particular challenge was intended to be played.

After a few seconds the penny dropped that the only way would be for her to ferry the required specimen between it’s source and destination, and that with her hands tied such as they were, it left only her mouth as a practical of transportation.

“Oh.” she said as she contemplated the option presented to us.

She almost looked like she gagged a little at the idea of it. I presumed that she have never performed such an act before. I started to consider our options in my head. Of course cooperating offered no guarantees, there was no reason to trust that our captor would keep their word or that we would gain anything by playing along with the sick game. On the other hand, what options had we, other than to wait for rescue… which was no more guaranteed.

There was also the ignominious truth that the prospect of performing this act with Vicky, regardless of our circumstances, held some attraction in my mind. I had always thought that Vicky was cute and now I had a mental image of ejaculating into her mouth which was unhelpfully causing some upheaval in my boxers. I had no idea what Vicky’s thinking was nor how to even begin to sound her out on it.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and she sat down next to me. We looked at each other.

“Do you want to do it?” she asked, surprisingly forthright.

I shrugged trying to play it cool, or at least not give any indication that I was secretly hoping she would be willing.

“Do you?!” I put the question back to her, secretly encouraged she was even considering it. Vicky always struck me as fairly prudish – even her nightwear seemed more Mary Whitehouse than Miley Cyrus – so the fact that she hadn’t shut down the idea immediately surprised me.

“I just want to get out of here.” She replied, half answering the question.

“That’s no guarantee.” I said.

“How would we…” Vicky asked, stopping short of vocalising it, “… you know?”

“I guess…” I hesitated, not sure there were many options. Maybe she just wanted me to say out loud what she was already visualising, “I guess I would just jack off into your mouth.”

“I guess so.” she replied, sounding resigned to the idea.

“So we’re doing this then?” I asked, hardly believing that she was going to allow it.

Vicky just swallowed and nodded, looking down at the ground rather than at me.

I hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit self-conscious, but realising I just had to get on with it. Looking away from her, I put my hand into my boxers and started to tug on my no longer flaccid cock, coaxing it into further swelling.

“I won’t look.” Vicky said still staring at the floor.

I thought for a moment and having her watch me was all the more exciting. I wanted to expose myself to her and see the look on her face as I masturbated.

“No, it’s okay…I mean… you’re going to have to do more than just look so…” I answered, standing up enough to slide my boxers off and down to my ankles.

My cock now bigger, I felt less insecure about Vicky seeing me now. She looked out the corner of her eye at my hand as it moved up and down my semi, tucking her hair behind her ear then slowly, perhaps subconsciously, turning to see more clearly. My shaft began to harden exponentially now that she was watching me and I gripped more tightly, rolling my foreskin back to expose my swelling pink glans to her. In spite of the cold, my balls were hanging large below my ever towering erection. I noticed Vicky bite her lower lip every so slightly as her eyes remained trained on my almost fully aroused sex. I noticed as Vicky squeezed her thighs together a bit while I worked myself towards the goal and I wondered if something was also stirring in her loins as she watched. A small trickle of pre-cum dribbled out of my pee-hole and down my glans.

“Where should I…go?” Vicky asked as my breathing became more laboured.

“Just here” I said, spreading my legs and pointing to the floor between them.

Vicky got off the bed and hesitantly knelt where I had instructed her. I looked down at her pale, innocent face, partially obstructed by my swollen manhood upon which her big brown eyes were locked and my excitement spiked

“I’m almost there.” I warned her, squeezing my corona as it passed through my fingers, moistened by pre-cum.

Vicky opened her mouth sticking out her tongue and I stood up, pushing my cock down so that it was angled into her waiting orifice. I felt her warm breath exhaling on my primed shaft and that was all that was required to tip me over the edge. I grunted loudly and twitched as I shot a long thick rope of cloudy white semen into Vicky’s ready mouth. Vicky’s reflex was to recoil, but I moved forward and quickly pulled her head back into place just as I felt my balls rise up preceding another blast. This one shot onto her curled tongue, where it was beginning to pool. A third spasm precipitated another flow of thick fluid running out over my bell-end and dripping down into Vicky’s waiting vessel. Holding the back of Vicky’s head in one hand and my shaft in the other, I pressed it down onto her tongue to wipe the tingling tip and squeeze the remaining cum inside my urethra into her open mouth.