A smile spread across Darby’s face as the half naked girl on his lap began to stir.  The tranquilizer he’d administered to her was a very low dose, but in her weakened state, Hyejeong had been out for almost a half hour.  He liked his girls sleeping, but that was nothing compared to knocking them out.  The downside of repeated applications tended to put them out longer and longer each time, no matter how small the dose was.  And of course there were the long-term effects of such prolonged exposure, permanent brain damage being the big one.  An effect Darby didn’t really have an issue with, but there weren’t too many clients interested in buying vegetables.  And the Ace of Angels were a very high profile catch.  Clyde would never stand for any of the girls being permanently damaged.  

But he had a few hours to play with his toy before he delivered her to Clyde.  And he’d make the most of those hours.  He’d have to resort to using the smelling salts to bring her around eventually, but at least this time she was coming around on her own rather quickly.  And watching them wake up after a knockout was almost as much fun as the act of putting them under.

He pinched Hyejeong’s small nipples harder, his fingernails digging into the stiff buds, using the pain to bring her around faster.  She moaned, her body reacting even though her mind was still out.  Darby’s erection grew under the girl’s tight ass as she shifted on his lap.  He grabbed a bottle off of the table next to him, twirling it in his fingers, watching the clear liquid sloshing around inside.  He really loved his job.

Hyejeong moaned again, her eyelids starting to flutter open as her sense slowly started coming back to her.

“Good morning, sleepy beauty,” Darby said, his words fuzzy in her ears as she fought the clinging grip of the drug induced sleep.

“Nnnnuhhh,” she groaned, her mouth dry, her tongue sticking to the floor of her mouth.

“Here, drink this, it will help,” Darby said, opening the cap of the bottle and jamming it between Hyejeong’s lips, tipping it slowly back.

The liquid felt great as it hydrated her mouth, the splash of cold jump-starting her senses.  She choked and gagged as the liquid hit the back of her throat and she threw her head forward, coughing as she spit it up.

She looked down at the dark spot from the liquid on her sweatpants, her eyes slowing moving up her bare stomach, her naked breasts, the strange hand playing with her stiff nipples.

“What— what’s going on?” she asked, squirming weakly, but Darby had no problem holding her in his lap.  

“Shhh, just drink up,” he said, forcing the bottle back into her mouth.  She batted weakly at his hands, unable to break his grip.  As she struggled, she felt the distinct outline of his rock hard member under her butt, and she moaned in despair.  

He tilted the bottle back, more of the liquid flowing into her mouth.  It had a very chemically taste to it, something she imagined Windex might taste like.  She gurgled unhappily as her mouth began to fill, spilling out the sides of her mouth down her naked chest.

Darby reached up with his other hand and began to stroke her throat, coaxing her to swallow.  Once she started, she couldn’t seem to stop, gulping it down.

“Good girl,” he said, taking the near empty bottle from her mouth.  She wanted to spit it back up, but it was too late.  Her belly felt full, and she felt lethargic.

“Let’s get you out of those wet pants,” he said, grabbing the waistband of her sweatpants.  

“Nooo,” she said, her voice slurred.  Her hands slapped against his, barely able to even find them as her vision swam.  Her suddenly bare thighs doubled and tripled before her eyes as he pulled her pants down to ankles, peeling the garment off her and tossing it aside, leaving her just in her tiny blue panties.

“Isn’t that much more comfortable?”

She shook her head, unable to muster a response.

“Just go back to sleep,” he told her, his hands finding their way back to her tits.  

She tried to fight it, but her head was already rolling back, resting against his shoulder as he played with her limp body.



Yuna grunted into the thick knot tied between her teeth as her captor pulled the last length of twine up between her legs, the thin, scratchy material disappearing between her labia, hiding the carefully positioned knots, as he yanked it up and tied it off to the belt of twine digging into her flat stomach just below her belly button.  

“Something to keep you occupied while I track your little friend down,” Clyde said, stepping back and dusting off his hands.

A thin noose around Yuna’s neck forced her to stand on her bare toes in the dirt in front of the tree to avoid strangling herself.  The singer’s naked body was bound tightly in twine, her arms forced into an excruciating reverse prayer position, with even her fingers bound together.  She had a tight breast harness accentuating her boobs before a length of twine had pull pulled taught across her breasts, bisected her soft globes.

More twine cut cruelly into her toned legs, spiraling down from her thighs to her ankles.  Lastly her big toes had been tied together.

She’d been unable to protest Clyde’s excessive bindings because of the thick cloths packed into her mouth, held in place by a tight knotted cleave gag, all hidden beneath a tight over the nose gag.

“I’ll be back for you once I go get Youkyoung,” he told her, slinging his gun back over his shoulder and walking off through the forest, leaving Yuna alone, only able to wait uncomfortably for his return in her tight, inescapable bondage.



Youkyoung had to stop, leaning against the chain link fence that seemed to go on forever as she caught her breath.  She couldn’t even see the lights from the town or the golden arches that had been her beacon of hope for so long.  

She looked up, the coils of barbed wire still looking down on her, mocking her.  She should have been paying more attention to the barbed wire in her panicked flight, looking for any gaps or breaks where she could safely get over the fence.  She had to have run along the edge of the fence for miles, and it could go on for many more for all she knew.  

She looked up and down the length of the fence, torn.  She had no idea what was further down.  Back the way she came was the town, civilization, the bus, her friends, Yuna.  Yuna, who’d she’d just abandoned in her panic.  

The blonde drummer gave one last look back down the fence, further into the darkness, before she turned and started to backtrack the way she came.  She walked this time, partly because she was still catching her breath and exhausted, partly because she was carefully examining the fence, her eyes shifting back and forth between the top and bottom, looking for any gap she could squeeze under or a safe spot where she could climb over.  Maybe even a low hanging branch she could climb over and drop onto the other side.

Clyde watched her coming back along the fence through the scope of his rifle.  It was disappointing really.  After leaving an obvious trail following the fence, his prey was just walking back towards him.  There was no sport in it.  He absentmindedly stroked the scar on his neck.  He supposed he’d never hunt someone like his Pet ever again.  Someone who could challenge him.  

Still, he was set to make a fortune off the Ace of Angels.  Maybe he’d use the money to recreate Richard Connell’s The Most Dangerous Game.  Buy himself an island somewhere, kidnap some truly dangerous girls.  Soldiers, fighters, cops, television executives.

Yes, that’s what he’d do, he thought to himself as he circled around the oblivious Youkyoung.  He was happy, formulating his plan as he burst from the undergrowth beside the startled girl.  He was barely paying attention as he quickly caught her when she tried to run, slamming her against the fence.  He didn’t hear her screams for help as she pulled out a knife and began to cut her clothes off.  His body acted on muscle memory as he wrangled her out of the shreds of her clothes and efficiently bound and gagged his prey.  

He threw the naked girl over his shoulder, leaving her shredded clothes.  It didn’t matter if anyone found any traces of the soon to be missing girls.  Worst case scenario they’d trace it back to that patsy Mr. Sang.  He’d probably have to dispose of Mr. Sang anyways.  Asking to keep one of the girls was a bad sign.  It was an impulsive decision, and Clyde granting him that concession would likely only lead to more impulse decisions.  It was sloppy, but he would fix it.  Sell the Angels, and buy an island.

Youkyoung squealed into her tight gag as she felt the heat of her captor’s lighter on her naked ass as he lit another cigarette.

“Don’t worry,” he said, patting her ass.  “I’ll get you reunited with your little friends soon enough.



Mr. Sang hauled the suitcase back onto the bus, Chanmi’s muffled grunts coming from inside as he threw the suitcase down on the floor next to Jimin.

Jimin was all sweaty from struggling, her messy hair falling over her eyes as she looked at the suitcase and then up at Mr. Sang.  Seolhyun had sat more passively in her bonds, but she looked worriedly at the suitcase.

Mr. Sang bent over and unzipped the suitcase, lifting it up and dumping the frightened Chanmi on the floor next to Jimin.  She trained against the bungee cords still holding her in a tight ball tie, her eyes going wide as she saw Jimin, lying naked and hogtied in tape on the floor next to her.

“Hmmennn!” she cried into her gag.  She twisted her head around and saw Seolhyun, equally nude and taped up in one of the seats.  “Hmmhmmnn!”

Mr. Sang could have watched them try to communicate through their stifling gags for hours, but he needed to get moving.  

“Enjoy your clothes while you can, Chanmi.  You’ll be as naked as the others as soon as I get us out of here,” he said, getting an angry gagged grunt from all three of them as he went back up to the front of the bus.

He started up the bus, the mysterious ‘engine problems,’ having been a fake all along.

The girls moaned and struggled in their bonds as the bus roared to life.  He was actually going to take them.  Their manager who’d they’d known and trusted was really kidnapping them.  Taking them away from their friends, who, if Mr. Sang had been telling the truth, were in for a similar, if not worse fate than them.

Jimin began to shimmy and work her way over to Chanmi.  Chanmi saw what she was doing and tried to roll over towards her.  The bus pulled back onto the road, the sudden shift throwing them both about, and when the bus settled, Chanmi found her face buried in Jimin’s crotch.  Both girls blushed behind their tape gags.  Chanmi tried to roll away, but she was stuck on her side like a turtle on its back, her attempts to rock to get enough momentum to roll over only burying her nose into Jimin’s pussy.

Jimin couldn’t roll onto her stomach with Chanmi practically under her, and her brief attempts to do so only exacerbated the problem and forced more embarrassing contact.  She finally began to scoot backwards, pulling away.  She had to get enough space to roll over and get her hands in position to try and untie Chanmi.

The bus took a sharp turn, and Jimin slid back into Chanmi, this time with her breasts thrust into the poor girl’s face.  Seolhyun could only look on from her seat, torn between rooting for them and wishing she could spare them from their humiliation.

Mr. Sang watched them in the camera capturing the back of the bus.  He’d have to stop later and make sure they were more secure, but in the meantime, he was quite enjoying the show.

He swerved again as he’d taken his eyes off the road for too long, smiling as the girls once again rolled into each other.  He shifted in his seat, adjusting the growing bulge in his pants.  He’d have to get one of them to take care of that soon as well.  All in good time.



Choa and Mina danced and fidgeted awkwardly as they still tried to get used to the plugs and dildos stuffed inside them, now forced even deeper by the leather straps pulled tightly between their legs.  Said straps were part of elaborate body harness Pet had forced them into, pink again for Choa and black for Mina.  They squeezed and framed their breasts, encircled their bodies, and most uncomfortably, held the painful crotch straps tightly in place, ensuring the toys stayed put.  

They stepped about on the ridiculous five inch matching heels Pet had forced them into, color coordinated again of course.  The girl’s training as dancers helped prepare them a little for the steep heels, but walking in more than short shuffling steps was still not an option because of the short six inch leather hobbles strapped to the girls’ ankles.

They were each sporting tight collars, Choa’s pink bone engraved with the word “Slut” and Mina’s black one reading “Bitch.”

“One last thing.”  Pet produced two pairs of nipple clamps, attached together by a thing chain.  The girls shook their heads as she snapped the toothed clamps teasingly in front of their faces.  “Hmm, who’s first?”  Both girls moaned unintelligibly, not wanting to be first but not wanting to subject the other to their captor’s newest torment.  “Alright, you can both get them at the same time,” Pet said, putting the chains between her teeth, holding the clamps as he began to play with her captives’ nipples, getting them nice and hard.

When they were both ready, Pet grabbed a clamp in each hand, moving them closer and closer to the girls’ nipples with tantalizing slowness.  They let out a muffled scream in unison of the clamps latched onto their nipples.  They just gotten their breathing under control when Pet clamped the adjoining clamp to each girl’s other nipple, making them scream into their gags again.

Pet watched her new toys try to get used to their new attire with a thin smile as she found a piece of paper and a marker behind the counter.  She scribbled out a note on the paper and went up and taped it to the front door of the convenience store.  She unlocked the door and took the two duffel bags and trash bag of the girls’ clothes out to the car.

“Alright girls.  It’s time to go,” Pet said.  She clipped matching leashes to the chains adjoining the girls’ nipple clamps, tugging them along.  She paused in front of the bathroom, where Samantha was still taped to the toilet.  “Say goodbye girls,” she ordered.  Unsure of what else to do, Choa and then Mina said a muffled, unintelligible bye into their gags.  Samantha moaned in response, pulling uselessly for the thousandth time against the tape holding her onto the toilet.

Pet tugged Choa and Mina after her, the girls struggling to keep up in their staggering heels and short hobbles.  Pet flicked the open sign back on, dragging the girls outside.  Mina read the note on the door as she shuffled past it.  “I’m in the bathroom.  Please do anything you want to me.”

The girls were forced into the back of Pet’s car, squealing into their gags as sitting caused an uncomfortable shift in the toys plugging their holes.  Pet buckled them in and drove off, leaving the unfortunate store clerk at the mercy whoever came into the gas station next.

The sky was starting to gray as the first light of dawn approached.



Yuna’s legs were shaking as she struggled to maintain her balance on her toes.  Her legs were screaming from being forced to stand like that for so long by the cruel noose around her neck, and the pain was compounded by the tight twine digging into her aching calf muscles and thighs.  

The ropes hurt everywhere.  Her breasts especially, squeezed and forced and cut into a most painful position, they were starting to turn purple, and every little movement sent jolts of pain through her bound tits.

The crotchrope was the least of her problems somehow, her inability to move much turning the tight rope trying to cleave her in half into a dull annoyance.

“Mmm?” she mumbled into her thick, stifling gag, looking around as she heard the snapping of branches.

“Hmmm mmm!” she started to cry out, praying for a savior.  If it was her captor, she didn’t think he could make her life worse.

The dull red glow of the tip of his cigarette appeared first, shattering her hopes.  He strode into sight, and her heart sank when she saw the tightly bound legs hanging over his shoulder.  Legs that she had no doubt belonged to Youkyoung.

He roughly deposited Youkyoung at Yuna’s feet, the blonde Angel grunting into her tight gag as she looked up and saw Yuna’s uncomfortable position, bound even more stringently than herself.

Clyde pulled out his life and cut the noose.  Yuna was finally allowed to collapse, and she dropped to her knees, screaming as the crotchrope became her new greatest enemy, the tiny knots grinding agonizingly over her clit.

Clyde pulled out a bottle of water, both girls staring at it enviously, their mouths parched from the thick gags, but he made no move to offer it to them as he took a long swig.  He was putting the bottle away when there was the static click of a walkie-talkie.

“Master, are you there?” a female voice crackled over the line.  He pulled out the walkie-talkie out of his pocket.  “Yes Pet, what is it?”

“Master… the bus is gone.”

This wasn’t exactly surprising news, even if it wasn’t welcome.

“He’ll go to his getaway car.  He’s got three of the girls, that’ll slow him down.  Just follow him, I’ll be along shortly.”

“Yes sir.  And Darby, sir?”

“I’ll worry about Darby.  You just find that bus.”

“Yes sir.”

He put the walkie back in his pocket.

“If you want to see your friends again, you’d better not slow me down,” he warned his two captives as he pulled them both to their feet.  With no other options, they both nodded, and he threw one of them over each of his shoulders, Yuna grunting loudly as her crotchrope rubbed against her again.  He gave her ass a warning slap, and bit down hard on her gag, trying to keep still and quiet as he carried them both off through the forest.



Darby uncapped a small amber bottle of smelling salts and waved them under Hyejeong’s nose.  She came awake with a start, coughing at the strong fumes filling her lungs.

“Easy, easy,” Darby said soothingly, stroking her hair.  “I’ll put you back to sleep soon enough.”

“Please, no,” she cried, shaking her head.  She was tired, everything was fuzzy, she had a headache, and she felt so weak.  She was sitting down in the chair she’d been getting groped in earlier on her captor’s lap.  She looked down, seeing she was wearing just her little blue panties.  “Please just let me go.”

“Shhhhh.  I can’t let you go.  Someone’s already bought you.”

She wailed at this, her hands sluggishly coming up to try and bat his hands away as he brought something close to her face.  She forced herself to focus, and she recognized it as a clear plastic oxygen mask just before he pressed it over her mouth and nose.

“No please,” she protested as he pulled the strap around her head, easily deflecting her feeble hands.  When she kept trying to remove the mask, Darby grabbed her hands and pulled them up above her head, wrapping an elastic strap around them and securing them to the top of the chair.  She pulled weakly, the strap stretching but easily holding her in place.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, her voice muffled by the mask.

“Just relax,” Darby said, turning a valve on the tank attached to her mask.  There was a faint hiss as a clear gas was pumped into the mask.

Hyejeong was too weak to even try to hold here breath as the gas was pumped into her lungs.  She immediately felt light headed, the room spinning as she looked up, her eyes rolling slightly.

“That’s much better, isn’t it?”

“Yessss,” she exhaled the word into the mask, taking in another deep breath.

Her captor watched her for a few minutes, her small chest rising and falling with each deep breath of the nitrous oxide.  Her eyes stayed shut longer and longer during her frequent blinks, and when it looked like she wasn’t going to open them again, Darby pinched her nipples.  Her eyes shot open again, the shock and pain briefly snapping her back to her senses with a small cry.

“Not yet,” he said.  “You can’t go to sleep just yet.”

“Please…” she moaned.  He grabbed the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her smooth legs.  “Oh please no.  What are you doing?” she asked, sounding more alert as she began to tug on her restraints again.  Darby shushed her, reaching over and turning up the flow on the laughing gas.  She calmed down slightly, still pulling a bit on the strap around her wrists, while her legs kicked about lazily.

Darby grabbed a vibrator, turning it on and holding the buzzing device in front of Hyejeong’s face.  

“Pleabs…” she managed, her voice slurring again.

Darby grinned, pressing the device between her legs.  She squealed, trying to clamp her legs shut and keep out the intruder, but she was too slow, only succeeding in clamping her thighs around the device, amplifying its vibrations throughout her loins.

The vibrations cut through the fog in her brain, her body’s singular desire hijacking her drug addled mind, and soon she opened her thighs, spreading her legs invitingly, moaning as Darby pressed the device deeper.  She uttered a sharp cry of pleasure, sucking in a big hit of the gas as he pressed it hard into her clit.  He reached over, cranking up the gas as he continued to play with her, driving her wild as he teased her.

Hyejeong was barely conscious, her eyes rolled back up into her head as a single driving need dominated her mind.  She needed to cum.  She was getting so close, but her sadistic captor kept turning up the gas, its effects working against her as it numbed her body and pushed her towards the edge of consciousness, while the vibrator between her legs pushed her towards the edge of climax.

Her breathing quickened as she got more aroused, heightening the effects of the gas as she came close to hyperventilating in the devastating fumes.

Darby turned up the gas and the vibrator at the same time, setting them both to their max.  Hyejeong’s moans were getting louder behind the mask.  She screamed as she came, her body shuddering with the rolling effects of the orgasm even as her mind blanked and her eyes rolled all the way back before shutting, and she slumped in the chair, out cold.

Darby could wait no more.  He was sure he was going to explode in his pants after watching that.  He shut off the vibrator and the nitrous oxide, fumbling with his belt.

The crackle of static from his walkie-talkie interrupted him.  

“Darby,” Clyde’s voice came over the walkie.

“Sunova,” he muttered, walking over and grabbing the walkie.  “Go for Darby.”

“Pack up your stuff.  We need to go.  Sang made a run for it with three of the girls.”

“You shouldn’t have given him the ‘take what you want speech,’” he said, staring longingly at what he wanted, the unconscious girl sitting in the chair, just waiting for him to take her.

“Not everyone who hears that speech is as worthy as you.”

“Oh stop it.  You and Pet can’t handle Sang?”

“Oh, I have no doubt that Pet can, but in case things get messy, we need to get the girls out of here.”

“You know you have the worst timing in the world boss.”

“I have an idea that might make it up to you.  Hustle up.”

“Aye aye cap’n.”  Darby threw the walkie-talkie against the wall, biting his lower lip as he looked again at the sleeping Hyejeong.  “God dammit!” he muttered.  “Looks like I’m gonna have to put you under a little deeper.  But we’ll pick this up where we left off later,” he said, rubbing his fingers between her slick thighs.  He licked her juices off his fingers, savoring her taste.  “Soon.”

He picked up her discarded panties, soaking them in chloroform.  It was a milder dose, but he pulled her oxygen mask up, balling up the ether soaked underwear in the mask, and put it back over her mouth and nose, leaving her forced to keep breathing in the sleep inducing fumes.  He ripped the tube off the front of the mask and unbound her wrists.  He threw cradled the limp girl in his arms and took her out to his car, leaving his unconscious package in the trunk.