Gwyn sat up in bed, hearing the faint snores of, Dylan, Derrick, she couldn’t remember, something with a D.   They’d come back to his room and after making out for an hour in the hot tub; Gwyn was ready to get fucked.  Of course, upon getting to the room, he had stripped down, mounted her missionary style, and after only about ten quick pumps, he’d climaxed, and rolled off her.  Gwyn had offered him possibly her most fake orgasm ever, giving a few monotone moans as he lay down beside her.  He either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, and he fell asleep within minutes.

Now she was horny and starting to sober up, plus she was beginning to feel guilty about ditching Val, and especially Elizabeth.  She slipped out of the bed, rooting around on the floor for her clothes.  Her bikini was still damp, and now quite cold as she put it back on.  With nothing else available, she wrapped her soggy towel around herself, and crept out of the room.

Two of the guy’s buddies were still in the main suite, drinking.  They looked up when she emerged from the room, raising their bottles to her.

Gwyn blushed; hoping her walk up shame would have been a little more private.

She was a little relieved to see that Elizabeth had not taken her advice and come, but at the same time, she realized that she had neither her phone nor her room key on her.

“My friend didn’t come by here did she?” she asked.

“The short chick?  No, but apparently she was just dancing up on the bar.  Rob just sent me this video.”  One of the guys held out his phone.  Gwyn took it, watching as the video loaded up.  She could hear “Pour Some Sugar On Me” playing, and sure enough, there was Elizabeth, standing on top of the bar, dancing provocatively.  Gwyn’s eyes widened as her friend wrapped on leg around the pole at the end of the bar and spun around it, bending her lithe form backwards.  She put her hand to her mouth concealing her grin as she watched Elizabeth rip her shirt off, swinging it around her head before tossing it into the crowd.

“Holy shit,” she gasped.  “You have to send this to me.  When was this taken?”

The guy shrugged.  “Fifteen, twenty minutes ago.”

“Thanks, gotta go.”  She turned and practically ran to the door.

“Wait,” he called after her.  “What’s your number?”

His buddy smiled as she left without responding.  “We should get down to the bar.”

“Should we wake up Devon?”

“Nah.”



A half hour of near constant struggling, pausing only to watch in shock as Elizabeth did her little strip tease on the monitor, had gotten Val no closer to freedom than she had been when Rick had left her.  She sobbed in frustration, a line of drool escaping past the muzzle and dripping onto her heaving chest.

She perked up as she heard the faint static of the resort intercom.

“Attention White Top guests.  Due to the incoming storm, we are going to have to evacuate the lodge.  There are buses ready to take everyone down the mountain, where you will be put up in the Radison Hotel.  We apologize for the inconvenience, and look forward to seeing you as soon as the storm clears.  Please grab your things and make you way to your cars or the buses as soon as possible.  Again, we apologize for the inconvenience.”

“MMMMMMMGGGGGGG!”  Val screamed impotently, shaking in her bonds, nearly succeeding in tipping the chair over.  She knew it had to be Rick, clearing out the resort.  She could only hope that Gwyn figured out something was up before Rick ensnared her too.



Elizabeth was crouched on top of a toilet seat in the women’s restroom.  She doubted that this offered her any real sanctuary.  If their room was bugged, there was a fair chance that the public bathrooms could be too.  Not to mention her earpiece.  It had been silent since her performance, but she was sure he was still listening.  Hell, the thing might even have a GPS tracker in it, for all she knew.

She had the sudden urge to yank the thing out and drop it in the toilet, but she knew she couldn’t do it.

That dance.  He’d made her do it.  But that wasn’t what really made her sick.  She’d enjoyed it.  For a brief second, she’d gotten caught up in the moment, and had momentarily allowed herself to forget that some psychopath was holding her best friend hostage and forcing her to degrade herself.  But it was as he had said.  It was fun.  It was the kind of thing she used to do back in college.  Being forced to do it had really only allowed her to drop her inhibitions, and just go nuts.  He had never specifically told her to take her shirt off, or to grind on that pole.  If another song had gone on, would she have lost the skirt as well?  How long before she took her bra off too and was flashing the whole crowd?

She’d forgotten what she was doing, and she felt like she had betrayed Val, even though she had done what was asked of her, and probably pretty spectacularly according to the kidnapper.

And there she was again, feeling that arrogant pride.  What was wrong with her?

“Attention White Top guests.  Due to the incoming storm, we are going to have to evacuate the lodge.  There are buses ready to take everyone down the mountain, where you will be put up in the Radison Hotel.  We apologize for the inconvenience, and look forward to seeing you as soon as the storm clears.  Please grab your things and make you way to your cars or the buses as soon as possible.  Again, we apologize for the inconvenience,” the voice over the PA system blared.

Elizabeth almost fell off her precarious perch and fell into the toilet, but she caught herself, bracing herself against the walls of the stall.

“Is that you?” she hissed.  “Are you doing this?”

The earpiece was silent, and just when she was sure he either hadn’t heard or wasn’t going to respond, the voice erupted once more into her ear.

“Are you ready for your next assignment?”

It was as much of an answer as she supposed she was going to get.  After a brief hesitation, she said yes.

“I’ve left you another package.  There’s a duffel bag for you in the janitor’s closet on the first floor, near the main entrance.”

“What am I doing?” she asked.

Silence

“Can I at least go get a shirt?  I’m going to attract a lot of attention.”

Silence.  He was either busy, or ignoring her.  With the added panic of the evacuation, it was unlikely that her lack of attire would draw too much attention at this point.  Cursing silently, she climbed down off the toilet and made her way towards the janitor’s closet.



“Did you enjoy the show?” Rick asked he came back into the office.  Val glared at him, fuming into her gag.

“That’s not the first time she’s done that before, is it?” he asked, leaning over the keyboard and adjusting some of the monitors.  “Let’s see what your friend Gwyn’s been up to.”

“Ggwphhnn?” Val asked, her eyes wide.  It seemed logical that he’d know about Gwyn, but since he hadn’t involved her in this yet, Val had held onto hope that she had been somehow missed.

“You know Gwyn, you silly goose,” he ruffled her hair playfully, earning a sour glare from the bound girl.  “Your curvy friend, the one with terrible taste in men.  Speaking of terrible taste in men.”  He brought up a camera on the main monitor.  It was a semi dark bedroom, one of his personal cameras and not one of the hotel’s.  There was a lone form asleep in the bed.  Lines appeared across the screen, and Val realized it was rewinding.  Suddenly a figured backed into the room wearing a beach towel.  The figure took the towel off, and then stripped out of the bikini, putting each item on the floor, and then backed into bed with the other figure.  They were still for a second, and the Val watched the guy roll up onto the girl, thrusting into her in a weird, reverse speed, and then they both got up, climbed back into their clothes, and started to back out of the room together.

“Right there,” Rick said, pausing it.  The video started back up again, in regular time.  It was easier to make out that the girl was definitely Gwyn, and Val could only watch helplessly as the recording showed her friend being screwed by some guy.  Rick paused it again as the guy was rolling off of her.  He backed up the recording again, playing the finish again.  He messed with a few settings, and the faint and crackly audio was cranked up.

Val fought against her bonds as she was subjected to it again, but Rick held a finger to his lips, shushing her.  She quieted, admittedly curious.

“That is bar none the worst fake orgasm I’ve ever heard.  Remind me later to make sure she’s properly satisfied.

Val let forth a torrent of muffled threats and swears, rocking in her chair.

“Don’t worry sweetheart.  I won’t forget about you.”  

She threw her weight backwards, tipping the chair back.  His arm shot out, catching the front of the seat and keeping her from falling backwards.  They both stared at his hand, positioned right between her legs.  Val whimpered as he pushed the chair back down and then slowly moved his hand up, caressing her denim clad thigh ever so lightly.  The tips of his fingers reached the fork of her crotch, gently applying pressure.

Val squealed, attempting to plead into her gag.  The phallic obstruction in her mouth was an ever-present reminder of his ultimate intentions for her.  Her bleating only turned him and his motions became more aggressive.  He dug one hand in, groping at her pussy through her jeans, while the other moved up and found the button of her jeans.  He deftly popped open the button, and yanked the zipper down, exposing a hint of her cream colored panties.

“Struggle all you want,” he told her, grabbing her jeans at her hips and yanking them halfway down her thighs.

Val was frantic, her breasts flopping around wildly as she worked herself into a panicked frenzy, praying that her bonds might somehow give.  Drool, tears and snot seemed to fly from her face in equal measure.

“Easy, girl.”  He grabbed the side strap on her gag, holding her head still, forcing her to look into his eyes.  “We’re moving too fast.  I just got a little carried away.  I’m sorry.”

She panted through her nose, staring at him intently.  He released her gag, his hand grazing her breast as he lowered it.  He rummaged into his duffel bag, pulling out a big pink vibrator.

“This should warm you up a little bit.”

Val sobbed as he switched the toy on, its faint hum filling the air.  He grabbed a length of tape and secured it to the chair under her panty clad crotch.  Val immediately held her body up off the seat as much as her bonds would allow.  Rick smirked.  It was a position they both knew she wouldn’t be able to hold for long.

“I’m getting distracted,” he said, returning to the monitors.  “Let’s see what your friends are up to.”



Elizabeth had no problems finding the duffel bag in the janitor’s closet.  It was fairly nondescript, and somehow it seemed so ominous to her.  She had a brief mental struggle as to whether or not she should open it.  He hadn’t told her to, and she was kind of waiting on instructions.  She considered alerting him to the fact that she and found it, but she was in no hurry to perform his next “task.”  As she waited, it occurred to her that the fact that he wasn’t giving her instructions meant he probably wasn’t watching her movements.  She cursed herself for not using this time to try and get help, though the idea that he could be watching silently, testing her obedience, terrified her into inaction.

She was relieved in spite of herself when the faint crackle of static filled her ear, followed by his voice.  “I trust you have the bag?”

“Yes.”

“Have you opened it?”

“No.”

“Good girl.”  She was consciously aware of this bit of positive reinforcement, and couldn’t help but feel good at her praise.  She was disgusted for that base reaction.

“You can go ahead and open it,” he continued.

She set the bag on the floor and unzipped it, pulling open the flap to examine its contents.

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered.  She wasn’t sure what she was expecting; possibly some demeaning outfit in the vein of her last task, but what she was staring at was very clearly a kidnapper’s supply bag.

Precut lengths of rope nicely folded and tied off, an assortment of rolls of duct tape in various colors, a clear plastic container filled with zip ties, a couple pairs of handcuffs, rolls of ace bandages, a sleep mask, two ballgags of different sizes and colors, and a handful of scarves.

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it: find and restrain your friend, Gwyn.”

“What?  You can’t be serious.  I can’t do that!” Elizabeth begged, closing the duffel bag again, as though if its contents were out of sight, they would somehow disappear.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out.  It was another picture from Val’s phone.  Her heart sank as she saw the photo.

Val was still tied to the same chair, although she was more securely bound with ropes.  Her bare breasts were hanging out, sandwiched between her bra and sweater as well as more rope holding her to the back of the chair.  The tape gag had been replaced with a big black panel over her mouth secured with a menacing network of straps encircling her head.  Her jeans were down around her thighs, and something pink was taped to the chair between her legs.  Elizabeth could guess what it was.

“You son of a bitch!” she said through gritted teeth.  “You said you wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I said no such thing.  And I haven’t really hurt her yet.  But if you don’t find that curvy red headed friend of yours soon and get her all nice and wrapped up for me, I’m going to start getting frustrated.  And there are just so many ways I can take out my frustration here.”

“I swear to god, I will kill you,” she was cut short as she could hear the muffled but still very audible scream that could only come from Val.

“Chop chop,” the voice continued.  “You have thirty minutes.”



Gwyn sighed, leaning against their room door.  She’d come back to the room immediately, only to find it empty.  She’d gone to the bar, and while everyone there remembered Elizabeth’s little show on top of the bar, no one seemed to know where she’d gone afterwards.  Everyone was distracted, packing up their things and getting out before the storm hit.

She’d come back to the room, disheartened, hoping that one or both of friends had returned in the brief time she was gone.  It appeared that they had not.  She banged on the door in frustration.  Surely they wouldn’t have left without her.  They would have had to notice her phone was still in the room if they packed up.  

It occurred to her that they were probably also looking for her.  She could have just missed them, and if she went off again to try and find them, in all likelihood that would be when they came back to the room to check and see if she’d come back.  She remembered as a kid getting separated from her parents at the zoo.  She’d been lost for hours because they kept missing each other as they searched.  When they’d finally been reunited, her parents had told if she was ever lost to stay put, and they would find her.

Fuck it, she thought to herself, and wandered off.



Elizabeth returned to the room.  It seemed logical that if Gwyn heard the evacuation notice, she’d come back to the room to find her and Val, or that the very least get her stuff.

She couldn’t have known that she missed Gwyn waiting outside the door by less than a minute.  The room was just as she left it, and there was no evidence that Gwyn had come back to it.

She thought about asking the voice for help.  He was watching the whole thing; he had to know.  Was he not telling her intentionally?  

She glanced at her phone, checking the time.  It had been four minutes since he’d set the deadline.  Twenty six minutes to go.  She forced herself to look at the picture again, feeling sick as she did so.  She needed to remind herself why she had to do this.

Gwyn had told her that the suite she had gone back to with the guys from the hot tub was room 227.  It was a good place to start.



Rick looked up from the monitor.  He had thought it was going to be over fairly quickly, Gwyn leaning against the room door and Elizabeth on her way, but at the last minute, she had up and left, and Elizabeth had narrowly missed her prey.  He was pleased.  It was a win win for him either way, but he almost wanted to see her fail.  Or, possibly even more interesting, what she would be like on the wire.  Elizabeth was clearly stalling at this point in the game, unwilling to commit to what he’d asked of her.  She’d taken her sweet time getting back to the room, the very reason she had missed Gwyn.  Put the pressure on, and she wouldn’t be dragging her feet.

He heard a soft moan coming from Val, and he looked over at his captive.

Her eyes were closed.  Another low moan escaped the gag girl as she shifted in her seat, succumbing to the vibrator taped beneath her.  Her eyes flashed open, and she saw him watching her.  With a grunt, she lifted her weight back up, glaring at him, another drop of drool falling off her chin and landing on her full breasts.  Her glorious udders were soaked in her spit, spilling down her stomach.  He wondered if the dampness on her panties were purely from the drool, or if her arousal had started to seep into the fabric as well.

All in good time, he told himself, returning his attention to his surveillance.