Valentina Amor had no idea how many times she’d been forced to watch her own rape.  She’d manage to tune it out and look away, but her rapist commanding her to look every time the video started over again kept drawing her attention back, and she miserably watched as she was raped again.  She’d given up trying to get free, the duct tape having proved more than capable of keeping her helpless in the chair in her hotel room, and her frenzied bursts of struggling only serving to irritate the zip ties digging into her wrists, elbows, ankles, and mouth beneath the tight bands of tape.

The door opened and she snapped her head up, moaning weakly into her gag for help.  She recognized her kidnapper and rapist, and she hung her head.  She had hoped he was done with her, leaving her with the video as a parting gift, burning their brief time together into her memory forever.  But it looked like their time together wasn’t over.

He locked her door and came back over, finally ending her torment as he closed stopped the video.  

Her eyes widened as he pulled out a switchblade, and she started hyperventilating into her gag.

“Keep still,” was all he told her, and she froze, watching out of the corner of her eye as he sliced the tape holding her to the chair.  He cut the zip tie around her ankles and pulled her to her feet, holding her up with a strong grip on her upper arm when he legs almost buckled under her.  She suppressed a shudder as the cold steel grazed her bare arms and sighed in relief into her gag as he cut the zip ties around her elbows and wrists.  

“Mmmmph?” she asked, looking up at him.  He made no move to remove her gag, but she was glad when he put the knife away.

“Strip.”

“Hmmph?!”  He’d already raped her.  Her panties were still bunched up around her thighs.  But she still balked at the idea.

He sat down on the bed and turned the laptop to him.  After a second he played My Darkest Days’ “Porn Star Dancing.”  “Make it good,” he said.

She stared at him, not moving.  He stared back as the song continued.  His dark eyes were confident, certain she’d do as she was told.  He couldn’t meet his gaze anymore and dropped her eyes, finding herself staring at the two bulges in his pants, the larger one in the center of his jeans of his cock, and the smaller, more defined shape in his pocket that was his switchblade.  He cleared his throat, and she got started.

Her hands were awkward, still numb from their prolonged bondage.  She swayed from foot to foot out of time with the music as she tried to get her pink gloves off, wishing she could use her teeth to pull them off.  He didn’t seem upset that she wasn’t that good.  She was obedient.  Skill would come later.

She got her gloves off and then fumbled with her outfit, trying to pull it over her head.  The cosplayer knocked her headphones off and set her wig eschew again as she got it off, standing before her captor in just her bra, her panties still down around her thighs.  She stood, torn between pulling her panties back up, or finishing taking them off.  She looked at him for any signal, but he just watched her impassively as the song came to an end.  Her hands lingered on the waistband of her underwear, wanting to pull them back up, but knowing deep down he expected her to strip completely.  Still he didn’t give her any direction.  

She sobbed into her gag and slide her panties down her legs and stepped out of them.  She pulled off her boots and lastly she took off her bra, standing before him completely naked.

He scrutinized her naked body.  She could feel his eyes all over her.  It wasn’t the same lustful male gaze she was accustomed to.  He was judging her, the way one would judge a piece of meat at the butchers.  

He stood up slowly, and stalked around her.  She shrunk back away from him, whimpering as he stared down at her.

He nodded and walked over to the closet.  She looked at the door.  He was between her and the door, but if she sprinted real fast, she might be able to get to the door and get it unlocked open before he turned and stopped her.  

But she might not.

And she couldn’t imagine that wouldn’t go without punishment.  And even if she did make it, what if the hall was empty?  She was still gagged, it wasn’t like she could call for help as she ran down the halls away from him, naked.

It finally dawned on her.  The windows!

The curtains were drawn, but all she had to do was pull them back, and someone might see her, naked and tape gagged, banging on the glass.  

It didn’t matter, he was already coming back, catching her staring longingly at the curtains.

“No one is going to save you,” he said, quickly deducing what she was thinking.

Valentina’s gaze fell from the curtains to the floor as she slowly turned back to her captor.  He was carrying one of her dresses, a black PVC minidress she’d brought that wasn’t one of her cosplay outfits.  He tossed it at her, the shiny black material sticky to her bare breasts before she reacted and reached up to catch it, staring at him questioningly.

“Put it on.”

She found she had the same hesitance as when he’s told her to strip.  She wanted to be dressed again, but the implications for why he wanted her dressed again were just as terrifying as when he’d wanted her naked.

The terrified captive looked at her discarded bra and panties on the floor.  The man was holding her black boots, but it seemed like she wouldn’t be wearing underwear.

She pulled  on the dress and the boots when he gave them too her.  He started to pull off her wig, but it was caught in her wraparound tape gag.  She stood motionless, not even breathing as he pulled out the switchblade again and slipped it under the tape over her cheek.  She gave a muffled cry as he flicked the blade outward, slicing through the tape and zip tie.  He ripped off the tape, pulling her wig off with it, her real, black hair falling about her shoulders.  She let out a loud sigh of relief as her mouth was freed from the tight hard plastic zip tie digging into the corners of her mouth.  Valentina had to reach up and pull the cloth out of her mouth; she could manage to push it out with her tongue.  “Please, let me go,” she said, working her sore jaw.

There was no response.  He stooped down to his bag and started going through it.

“What are you going to do to me?”

Again, nothing.

“Please, I have some money.”

“I have more,” he said.  He stood back up, holding a big black leather panel gag.

“No, pleamph!” he shoved the leather tongue into her mouth, cutting her off, and he strapped it tightly around her head, the hard leather panel crushing her lips.  She tried to fight him off with her hands, but it was a weak attempt and she barely slowed him down.  He pushed her down on the bed and pulled her flailing arms behind her back.  Strong leather straps quickly secured them in place.  More bound her legs again, and she squirmed and tested her new restraints.  

Experimental testing turned to panicked thrashing as she felt him lift her dress up, exposing her ass.  

He was going to rape her again.

She was right, but she was also horribly wrong.

“PLMMMPH!  NNNNGG!”  

He didn’t care.  He held her down as he rammed himself into her ass.

A high school boyfriend had talked her into anal once.  She still wanted to keep her virginity, and he’d been very persistent.  She’d been rather put off by the whole thing, and she’d lost her real virginity two months later and never gone back.  

And now she was tied up and gagged, getting fucked in the ass, and there was nothing she could do about it.

He didn’t record her this time.  He let her bury her face in the sheets and cry as he raped her ass.

She felt like he was going to tear her in half, his unlubricated dick slamming deep into her anus.  She sobbed as he came in her ass.  She felt so dirty.

He pulled out and wiped his dick off on her ass.  He fished around in his bag of tricks and pulled out a thick butt plug.  She screamed into her gag as he rammed it up her butt, her sphincter stretching around the plug until it was about to tighten around the fluted end.  She was sure she couldn’t feel more humiliated, but again she was wrong as he forced a dildo into her vagina.  He tied a crotch rope on her to keep the toys in place.  Valentina groaned into her gag as he pushed her up onto the bed, rolling her on her side and tucking her legs up under her.  She put up a brief and ultimately futile struggle as he used more thick leather belts to strap her into a tight ball.

“Time to take you to your new home.”

“Mmmmph,” she moaned.  Why her?  What had she done to deserve this?

Her kidnapper opened up suitcase and dumped the rest of her clothes.  It was a tight fit, but he managed to stuff her ball tied form into her own suitcase.  Some of her clothes were used to wedge her tighter in place before he zipped it up, trapping her in darkness.

He packed up the rest of her stuff in his bag.  He wiped the room down, and before he took her away, he reached into his pocket and switched on a remote.  A muffled yelp came from the suitcase as the dildo and butt plug sprang to life within her.  He pulled out the handle on the rolling suitcase and wheeled her out of her hotel room, the rumble of the wheels more than covering the faints noises coming from his new toy.  No one saw him leave anyways.