Rachel had hated the boots at first, but was now very glad for them. They had taunted her with the possibility of cruel en pointe heels, of tall, scene-y cosplay boots, and of alluring stilettos. Eventually, they had settled on thick, heavy boots. They were waterproofed, somewhat comfortable, and laced (and locked!) around her ankles. They weren’t ideal for running, but they felt as ‘all terrain’ as boots could be.

They came at a price.

Matching her heavy leather boots was a heavy leather outfit. She was clad in a leather bodysuit that covered her from her ankles to her neck. Surely, it had been custom-made; it fit as well as the leather gloves that her fingers and arms were trapped in. The amount of work that must have gone into it made her curious about her captors’ resources.

They were flaunting their powers as soon as they had Rachel geared up. They’d taken their time getting her into the hobble-skirt and zipping it up, threatening that if she damaged it in any way that there would be rather serious consequences. They said the same about the metal bars that restrained her arms, too. Each of her suited and gloved wrists was locked in a padded cuff; a D-ring on each cuff attached to a short metal bar - the other end of which was locked to her waistline. The result was that she couldn’t keep her arms more or less than a short length from her waist. That, combined with that hobbleskirt, made her ‘run’ more of a dainty shuffle.

At least they had been sporting. They gave her plenty of time to get her leather-clad rear out of their sight before they started looking.

“Fifteen minutes to get walking,” said one - punctuating her explanation with the loud click of a padlock. “Don’t bother trying to get out of your gear. We’ve got the only keys. Even if you do find a helpful local, they can’t get out out of it.”

Rachel probably wouldn’t have gone to a “local” anyway. It felt like she was in the middle of nowhere; the drive had been about an hour from the city, and she’d long since passed into farmland. She was probably close to a wildlife preserve. She wasn’t sure how people would react to a restrained leatherclad captive trudging along the way, and she couldn’t explain anything through thickly stuffed lips and a neck corset keeping her mouth shut.

She didn’t get very far. The first time the hunters found their quarry, Rachel was stumbling over an old wooden bridge, walking towards the only lit-up farmhouse she could see. The bridge was only a few feet above the lazily-running creek, and she realized too late that it left her totally exposed. Her hunters found her, driving their black van right up to the edge of the creek before hopping out with nets and ropes. The men - large, strong, broad-shouldered - were shouting something as she crossed the bridge. Even her “escape, escape now!” gait was still a dainty walk with her arms at her sides.

The two of them thundered across the bridge. Heavy footfalls made the old wood creak, then groan, and then give out. Both of them plunged into the shallow creek.

They were dazed, bruised, and disoriented. Nobody expects a footbridge to give out, even if it was some moldering vanity project. Rachel took a gamble, adrenaline pumping as she hopped over the newly made gap in the decayed edifice. She trusted that her weight wasn’t anything near two burly, muscle-bound hunters, and she was validated. By the time they had managed to stand up in the stream, she was in the car.

It was awkward to try and sit or manipulate anything with the arms still chained to her wrists, but Rachel managed. Her reflex was to buckle the seatbelt, and she wasted a few precious seconds fiddling before her cognitive mind told her to just drive.

The girl turned the key. The grinding sound meant that it was already running, and she hadn’t realized.

There was a thump on a door as one of the waterlogged men tried to get in. He managed to open the door just as Rachel slammed a heavy boot on the gas. The car lurched forward, leaving the door swinging and the two hunters cold and wet at the stream.

Driving in such footwear prevented the finesse she normally had while behind the wheel, but she sped off across the scrubby grass and towards the nearest dirt road. Rachel couldn’t believe her good fortune, and felt a reflexive smile creep across her thoroughly gagged and packed lips. The van hadn’t been built for the bumpy off-roading she was now subjecting it to, especially not at these speeds. After a minute or so of driving, the two hunters were no longer in sight. She turned onto a gravel road, put her foot on the brakes, and inhaled deeply through her nose. That was when she noticed the other woman in the backseat. The hunter grinned at her.

Ten minutes later, the hunteress was almost done packing. She took a short break, reflexively intending to read a news article or check her texts. Janine reached for her phone, noticed that she had no bars, and put it back in her pocket. Her two companions were probably still waterlogged. Idiots. They should have known that the bridge wouldn’t hold both of them. Meatheaded newbies like that were as much a danger to themselves as they were to the prey.

Rachel squirmed against the passenger seat. She arched her back so fast that the seatbelt caught and held stiff.

“Mmmmmnf! Mmnngh. Mmp-mmmgh!”

Janine smiled at her captive. Rachel had pretty eyes, and she was blushing scarlet red.

“I’m going to have to leave the van here for a bit.”

“Mmmmnnggghghh!”

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t be leaving you alone. But the other two should be here soon, and they’ll take good care of you.” Janine chuckled. She always wanted to say that. Her captive squirmed wordlessly.

“Pshh. Don’t worry. Whoever hired us to kidnap you gave us plenty of specifics. Namely, that you were to show up tightly bound and unharmed. I wonder who they are? A jealous former lover, maybe? Perhaps you’ve got an adoring fan who just wanted you all to themself.”

“Mm-mm!” Rachel tried to signal “no” by shaking her head, but the corset held firm.

“Yeah, I don’t know either. Fun to think about, though. They gave us all those measurements and we got the gear. Your leather suit, your nice gag, that skirt, those boots. Oh, but the rope was mine. You can keep that. My treat for whomever bought you.”

Rachel looked down. Her metal spreader bars had been removed and replaced with a harness of thick silky rope. It kept her arms at her sides. She didn’t seem to grateful, though, and tried to squirm out of her seatbelt again.

“Relax! You need to relax. Listen, it’s nice and cool out. Perfect weather for a drive. Just sit tight - heh - and wait for me to find the other girl.” Janine reclined her captive’s seat and slipped a blindfold over her eyes. “Maybe get some shuteye.”

The huntress walked away from the van. She was sooo enjoying the muffled, squirming, lusty mewls coming from the open car window. She’d be back with more.

 

 

 

Rania had watched when they took away Rachel with trepidation and the smallest amount of jealousy. After the three of them - Rania, Rachel, and Juliet had been kidnapped - they’d been moved here without much care. the trip hadn’t been pleasant; Rania had been casually bound with rope and a fat gag and stuffed in the trunk, squirming and rubbing against Juliet until they were unloaded.

They were out in the middle of nowhere. An old house - a pretty big house, almost manorial in size - stood next to a barn… and that was just about it. The countryside was pretty, but it was also flat, and there was no sign of a town or a point of solace even if they could get out of their bonds.

Getting out would be pretty difficult. They’d been stripped down to nothing but their underwear - that much was clear in the car, during a rather unexpected and enforced session of physical contact. The room in the old house must have been a library, but it looked pretty poorly maintained. If someone did live here, they weren’t doing much reading. The room did have some very heavy oak chairs, so that’s where the three of them had been tied.

Ropes around their ankles, above and below their knees, and then around their wrists - all before lashing them down to the cushioned chairs. They had a lot more room to squirm than in the car, but it didn’t do them any good. Rachel had done a lot of complaining at first, so all three of them were treated to a handkerchief packed between their lips and a healthy serving of duct tape covering their chin and mouth.

Now it was just Rania and Juliet. They’d spent some time talking to each other, then grabbed Rachel and dragged her away with a taunting offer of freedom if she ‘played nice.’ Well, they hadn’t seen her since then, and didn’t know what to think. But Rania was a tiny bit envious; at least she was doing something, rather than waiting around, bouncing and squirming in futile attempts to get out. She sighed, pressing her head and smooth, gagged lips against the chair’s cushioning for a moment.

That’s when their captor returned. She looked pretty pleased with herself.

“All right, you two. Which one of you wants a chance at freedom?”

“Hmmmmngh!”

“No?” shrugged the kidnapper. “No chance at all, huh?”

“Mmm-mmmngh!” Rania saw Juliet’s eyes casting daggers at their captor.

“Guess not for you then. All right. You get a shot then.” She approached rania and began removing her bonds, first getting her up from the chair and then starting to undo her wrists.

“So. I’ve got two guys waiting for you outside. You’re going to walk with me to them, and we’ll get you changed. We want to keep our kidnapping skills sharp, see, and we could use a good workout. You’re going to be our ba-”

The captor bent forward as air rushed from her lungs. Rania delivered another powerful and painful kick to her stomach, winding her completely. She ran to Juliet, hoping to undo her bonds before their kidnapper could get up. Juliet shook her head ‘no.’ Rania took off into the house. She knew that the awful woman who had them bound and gagged was bluffing about other goons.

She wasn’t bluffing. Rania ran to the front door first, only to see two men preparing a harness and armbinder on the porch. She slammed it shut and locked it, and began a mad dash through each room in the old estate. She wanted a weapon, or maybe just a locked room - anything would do. But the kitchen was old and musty, and all the fine silverware must have been sold off ages ago. The bathroom didn’t lock and had no windows. Bars and thick glass made entrances on the bottom floor useless, and the whole place was an absolute maze.

Rania managed, at best, to make her captors work for it. They chased at her through the old house until they finally cornered her, grabbed her, and dragged her back to the library. The three plopped her on the couch before getting to work.

The kidnapper started with her toes. She rubbed them for a few seconds, giggling to herself as she tickled and teased at Rania’s feet.

“So. You’re not even going to play with us, huh? Here we were, willing to give you a chance - not a good chance, but a chance - to get away from us scot-free, and you won’t even play by our rules. We had a fun pony setup and everything, as well as a really swell gag. Fine. Fine, then. You can join your friend Rachel in the car. The buyer should be here any minute, and she’ll be taking the two of you away to a nice vacation home, of sorts. Not a problem for me. I’m getting paid.”

Rania’s eyes narrowed. The kidnappers opened a backpack and pulled out several more rolls of silver duct tape. It wasn’t an elegant solution, but it was certainly effective.

They started winding the tape around her feet, first, before moving to her calves and knees. The binders took a few moments to loudly slap and spank at Rania’s thighs and rear.

“Nice, wide hips! Almost cartoonishly so. Trust me, you were made to be a good mummy. All those curves really look great when you’re sleeved up in silver duct tape. Trust me. Well, I guess you’ll have to trust me.”

When the tape passed her waist, they paused - they weren’t going to let an opportunity for a very generous and thorough molestation go to waste. The girl took point, sitting behind her and reaching both hands around her chest to grope, paw, and massage Rania’s breasts.

“I can see why they wanted to grab you. It might just be fatty tissue, but you’ve got a pretty decent pair. Fun to grope, that’s for sure. And I guess that’s what’s important, right?”

“Hmmmmf! Mm-mmng-mggggg!”

The others nodded. “Yep, whatever she said. I think she asked for a little more.”

The female kidnapper chuckled, finishing her touches with a not-so-gentle pinch of Rania’s teats. “I think she did. Well, we should oblige her, huh?”

The rest of the wrapping was quick and not-so-careful. They bound her arms behind her back and covered her waist, stomach, chest, and up to her neck in silver tape. Her gagged face was already nice and smooth, and all three criminals took a few turns rubbing over her lips. They marveled at how tight it was, and how glad they were not to have to hear any complaining… and that soon enough, she’d have those urges to whine and moan trained out of her. One of them carried her to the car, where she joined Rachel.

Finally, they turned to Juliet.

“All right. Looks like you’re the last one left. So tell me… do you want to play with us, or come quietly?”

Juliet shook her head ‘no.’

“We don’t know which one that was a no to. But here’s a little something to sweeten the deal. If you play our little game, let us hunt you down - well, we’ll keep our word. You win. You go free and get to report us to the cops… if you want. But if you fail, you’re getting sold off and joining your friends upstate.

...but, here’s your other option. Come quietly, and we’ll whisk you away to our hideout. We don’t ever tell the buyers about you. You get to be our little plaything. Not that you’ll have any chance to escape, of course, but - well, you saw how we treat our guests.”

The other two chuckled.

“So… what will it be?”

===

Juliet used her shoulder to force the barn door open. The chilly Autumnal wind finished the job by pushing both of the dilapidated wooden gates inward. She huffed and stumbled inside. The kidnappers were a minute behind her now, at best. 

Her eyes flickered around the room. It contained little more than old hay and rusting farming equipment. The loft looked unsafe, and a cellar entrance only slightly more so. Juliet had her arms half-free, but trapped in stiff elbow-length bondage mitts. Her legs were chained only a few feet apart, which was nowhere near enough room to run. Making matters worse, a heavy metal ball was attached to her ankle-chain. The iron ball was too short to pick up and too light to be anything more than dead weight.

She had a brief moment of inspiration. The other side of the barn had a matching pair of old doors, though they opened outward, not in. The captive hobbled across the barn and lifted the moldering bar that kept the door shut. The drafty wind blew it open. With luck, they'd think she had simply passed through and gone out the other side. 

The cellar door was jammed, so she used the iron ball to blast away at the hinges. She hopped inside just as the car pulled towards the barn. The cellar was utterly dark. Juliet squinted, unable to adjust to the sudden pitch dark. She felt around for a safe place to hide, knocking an old rubber mallet off a tool rack.

The loud cl-clang made her hair stand on end - but they kidnappers upstairs must not have heard it. Feeling a bit more, she found a wooden watertight barrel and removed the lid. It was empty and reasonably clean inside, which was far more than Juliet had hoped for. She hopped in, barely managing to get the heavy ball and chain into the barrel with her. She couldn't put the lid on top with her mittened hands, but it was better than nothing. 

Time passed. A few words must have been shouted inside the barn. She couldn't hear a word of them. In the cellar, around a corner, and inside a storage barrel meant that she was pretty well insulated from any noise. 

It also meant that when one of them - the female kidnapper - took the steps down the cellar, she heard every single step. They echoed in her head, every millisecond stretching out in her mind as she realized just how close her captor was. The kidnapper strolled downstairs, huffed, and swore. 

"I can't see anything down here! Do you see her in the loft?" shouted the female.

Juliet held her breath. 

The kidnapper picked up the barrel's lid, spun it in her fingers, and slammed it shut atop Juliet's barrel. The girl let out an 'eek'. She couldn't see the kidnapper's face, but she knew that she was smiling. 

Many hours later, a van drove from the countryside back to the city. The female kidnapper wore a relaxed smile. Rania wore a thick layer of tape. Rachel wore strict leather and a harness of rope that kept her squirming. Juliet had been thoroughly bound, groped, and stuck back inside the barrel with a hood and breathing tube. The kidnapper  had explained to her that she was a fighter, and a feisty one - and that a buyer had offered to buy her and the barrel both. Unfortunately, the kidnapper explained, that was probably so that poor Juliet's barrel could be pumped full of shiny latex and she could be properly encased as a trophy and plaything. 

The moans of the three captives were drowned out by the radio as the kidnapper and her two cohorts turned off the highway.