Byron woke with a pounding headache. The last thing he
remembered was going to a club after the school dance. He struggled futilely
against the cords restraining him. His mouth had been duct taped shut. A cloth
blindfolded him. The moving sensation he felt told him that he was probably in
a car. The confined space meant it was the trunk. Someone had drugged, bound
and kidnapped him. But why?
He lay there fighting for clarity of thought. At the club,
he’d danced with several people, male and female. No one stood out in his mind
as a possible perpetrator. He was reasonably sure that his drink hadn’t been
tampered with, but he knew from his Uncle Blade that there were several drugs
that were undetectable in liquids. Some of those could have knocked him out. He
closed his eyes and succumbed to the motion of the car.
He woke up again sometime later. His mouth was dry and his arms ached from
being tied behind his back for an indefinite amount of time. But the thing that
really bothered was the growing pressure in his bladder. If his captor didn’t
let him out soon, he’d have no choice but to relieve that pressure. The only
thing that would make his situation worse would be the smell of urine in a
confined space.
The car stopped with a sudden bump. Byron groaned as his
smacked into some hard object. There was the sound of a key in a lock and fresh
air wafted over his face as the trunk was opened. Hands grabbed him and lifted
him out. He stumbled on the rough ground as the hands guided him away from the
car. The feeling of shrubs tugging at his pants made him suspect that he was
far from civilization. Hands fumbled at his pants, freeing him. Arms encircled
him and grasped his limp penis. They lifted him and pointed him roughly away
from his body. Byron let go with a sigh of relief. His captor obviously didn’t
want to have to deal with urine either.
The hands straightened his clothing. Based on the feeling
of the body pressed next to his, he surmised that his captor was male. The cool
fall air made him shiver a little. Hands ripped the duct tape off his mouth. He
winced as his skin tore. A bottle was pushed against his mouth. Byron
gratefully swallowed the liquid. It was warm and flat, but felt delicious in
his parched mouth.
“Who-who-who are you? Wh-wh-where are you t-t-taking m-m-me?”
He managed to ask before more tape sealed his mouth shut. There was nothing he
could do but submit as his captor entombed him in the trunk again. As he
drifted off to sleep, he wondered how long this trip would take.
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