London Hostage : Part I

// Author's note - this is my very first story, so I hope you like it! It is the first story in a series; I will get them all up soon. Please email me; comments of any kind are most welcome!

It was the normal dull and dreary Friday afternoon. The sky was overcast and the dark shadows of thunder clouds hung low on the horizon, which was dotted with small, far out farmhouses, trees and cattle.

I had just finished my daily toil in the office. It was cold and miserable up on the 20th floor, but it was not much better now I was standing on the busy streets of London below. The weather was changing, and I could feel drops of rain coming down now. The wind had picked up, and distant rumble of thunder could be heard over the loud and polluted London streets.

As I stood there on the pavement, clutching my briefcase in one hand I thought to myself; "why do I bother with this job?" It was true; I never enjoyed the endless toils of the office life. Sitting at my desk all day, pulling up folders and stamping various letters with the current date did not appeal to me in the slightest. I longed for a change...

At that moment I came back to reality, and realised what I was doing. I was standing, in now pouring rain, soaked through to the skin, and shivering violently. I held my briefcase above my head and began to run to the bus shelter. I never took the bus home, but at least I could keep dry and gather my thoughts - I had a serious career change on my mind!

I weaved in and out of the business people who swarmed the streets of London like vermin. They were all much the same; all clutching their briefcases and files whilst brandishing jet black umbrellas and sporting the latest and most pristine suits available, all the whilst nattering away into their earpieces - how technology conveniences the lazy.

I eventually reached the shelter, only to find, much to my annoyance, it to be full of tourists and OAPs. Honestly, nothing did annoy me more than tourists using bus shelters; they don't live in the country so why should they use our services like this? Especially as I wanted to use them!

In my annoyance at this sight, I let the briefcase slip back to my side. I was soaking wet anyway and the briefcase was just absorbing the rain rather than deflecting it. I was now open the elements and at the mercy of nature. The rain hammered down and ran down my chest, making my shirt stick to my chest. I was not an overly sexy person; I was normal height, very thin, did have a slightly visible six pack, but no real definition to me person – I much resembled a rake.

I trudged on through the city; my apartment was right in the centre, about a ten minutes walk from where I worked. As I follow my usual route home I take major streets, then minor ones, then literally back alleys. I trudged down the main street with my head down – I hated getting my hair wet. I glanced to the right and saw the shops and cafés beginning to close up for the night. I took a right turn next to the Starbucks at the end of the road and continued on down the next street. This street was one I preferred to the main one, it was smaller yes, but it had a small Victorian channel running along the street on the left side, which always lets off a gentle babbling sound which is very much calming after a long days work.

I came to the end of the street and stopped. Here is where I had to cross the cross roads and then continue onwards, however I always got nervous at this point. On the corner of the street I needed to pass was a gay club called “The Orbz” – which personally I always thought was an awful reference to balls. I stood and stared at it, its large blue lettering above the door, and its big black bouncer who kept everyone in line. Many a people would assume I was homophobic, but they would be wrong. Truthfully, I was a very shy bisexual person, who longed to go in there... but never had anyone to go with, and could never find the courage to go in alone. So like always, I crossed the street and passed the club on the other side of the road.

I wanted to go back... I longed too... little did I know that I was soon to get my wish. I continued down the road and rounded the corner to take the alley behind by block of apartments. I walked down the alley and got about halfway before someone stepped out at the end of the alley. As the sky was dark, I could only make out that this person was larger in body size than I was, and wore what I assumed was dark clothing. He began to walk slowly towards me, and as I am a bit of a coward I turned to go back and then simply use the main street where there were more people.

However, as I turned, I saw an almost identical person in body size striding towards me from this direction; only he was holding what looked like a potato sack. I saw this kind of thing in movies all the time, and in a split second I have convinced myself that I was about to get stabbed or something. I turned in hope of running the other way, but I was out of time! The person behind me had crept up with incredible stealth and speed whilst my back was turned, and he had thrown a rope around my mouth and gagged me – I could not call for help, let alone move my tongue!

I struggled, but now the gag was firmly secured he had my arms behind me. He was powerful; even if I wanted to fight it would have been useless, yet this did not stop me from trying. I thrashed against his force, but received a blow to my head which caused me to stumble and lose consciousness, I managed to keep my eyes open long enough to make out a blurred shape which I assume was the sack being thrown over me... then all was dark.

I awoke some several hours later in a dark room with only a candle in the centre for light. It was not much, but enough to work out that the room was tiny, no more than 4 meters wide. At the opposite end of the room I could make out a shape from the darkness which I assumed to be a door of some kind. I tried to stand up, but was pulled back down by something. I looked down, and saw to my horror that I was in shackles! My ankles were in heavy iron rings, with no more than 5cm of chain before they hit the wall. My arms ached, and I found that they could not move either, as they were locked above my head in a heavy iron ring which stuck out from the wall.

I tried to call out, but my mouth still had a heavy gag in it, and I could not even make a sound. I wriggled, in hope the chains would open, but they did not. They clashed and clanged around, and then I heard footsteps. They got louder and louder, and then stopped... I heard the creaking of the door handle as it was turned, or perhaps it was the key in the lock, I could not tell. Either way the door swung open and in stepped a man in dark robes... yes robes. He looked much like a nun, only without any white stripes on the robes. He had a mask on, like the ones hockey players wear. To be honest, at this point I was scared shitless.

He stepped over to me and pulled on a rope in the corner. I suddenly felt a pull on my wrists as the chains went upwards, and so did I. I was hanging there now, defenceless with some psycho staring me in the face and eyeing up my now growing cock. He reached behind him into the folds of his robe, and brought out a long cane – I could tell what was coming...

He cackled from under the mask, and then placed his hand on my chest and rubbed me all over. It was disturbing but it sent me near climax! He rubbed me all over... under my arms, over my face, my groins... where he paused and touched my pulsing cock. He knew I was getting some pleasure from this experience. He cackled again, and then began to bend my cock downwards. It hurt like hell, and I screamed into the gag, and so no sound was heard. He cackled again and released, allowing my cock to spring back up to its upright position.
He then lashed at me with the cane, and it came down right over one nipple. It stung, and the pain did not seem to end. I screamed again, but to no avail, he raised the cane and brought it down over the other nipple this time. Now I had an X shape scar and to burning nipples. I was near tears, and I hung there almost numb with the pain. He turned and placed the whip on the table, and then reached down to his penis and unzipped the leather zip. He then tugged on the chain and I dropped to my knees with a thud, and he grabbed the back of my head and rammed his cock into my mouth.

To be continued...