The Abduction of Veronica X

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The Abduction of Veronica X Page 6

by Lizbeth Dusseau


  The girl grunted, while those gathered around her tried to imagine what she would say.

  “Em—” Penny started to speak.

  “Hush!” he leveled her with a toxic stare before she could finish his name. Then he nodded to the upstairs, moving toward the women, shooing them to the staircase, with tersely whispered vows. “You’ll have your answers soon enough. Don’t go crazy on me now. Five minutes. We’ll be up in five minutes.”

  He used the cane to spur them on, following closely at their heels until they were at the top of the stairs where he closed the door with a firm click.

  Penelope and Kathy Ann immediately turned about with their eyes focused on Daphne.

  “What?” she shook her head, “I’m as shocked as you are.”

  “You have no idea who that girl is?” Penelope charged in a throaty whisper.

  “No. No I don’t.”

  “I think he’s gone off the deep end, Daph,” Kathy Ann charged.

  Daphne shook her head, “I – I don’t know.”

  “Well, he damn well better get his ass up here in his five minutes or I’m going back down there and find out what the bastards are doing,” Penny fumed.

  Emerson returned to his captive, who for those few minutes lay inert, gathering dust on the dirt floor. One wondered what she could be thinking now. Was she in shock; or simply numb? Were Emerson’s words still having their trancelike effect? It seemed too simple, the crime so easily perpetrated, just as they had planned….

  They’d watched hidden in the alley by the Zen Café, waiting for her to leave her shift. She moved with a pleasing, upbeat gait as she walked the seven blocks toward her apartment. Emerson and Zack had tailed her twice before to plan her abduction, and they had agreed to abandon their plans if she veered from her normal route home from work. Luckily, she hadn’t.

  Hers was a lonely part of town where abduction would be simple. They’d dressed as black as the night, Emerson tailing her on foot while Zack drove one of his family’s little used vehicles—she’d never remember the featureless Dodge if it came to that—and Bo sat in the back seat. On a side street between neighborhoods where she normally took a shortcut to her apartment building, they pulled up behind her, while the tailing Emerson grabbed her from behind and shoved her into the car.

  She wouldn’t see beyond Bo’s mask, and once he had her in his firm grip, the blindfold went over her eyes, the gag followed and then the ropes. Finally, the burlap bag contained her thrashing movements enough to make the long drive back to the forest retreat.

  No one said a word the entire way—which was part of Emerson’s instructions.

  The girl had immense spunk, thrashing about as best she could in the confined space. But finally, she’d succumbed to her exhaustion and lay inert on the floor of the vehicle until they arrived at their destination.

  Emerson circled her body now, returning to her his previous methodology, gently prodding her with the cane as he spoke. “You’re our captive, girl, until the time we choose to free you. There is no way out. No escape, no negotiation, no way to avoid what will happen next. That is the facts of your confinement.” He let his message sink in and then added, “But do not lose heart.

  “When you’re freed, your reward will be considerable, that I promise. Until then, it is imperative that you do exactly as we tell you; your disobedience will be met with harsh rebukes. Punishment is avoidable, however, thus I suggest you set your mind to obey without exception. I know you have little reason to trust us, but in time, you will. Consider this a vacation from your real life and look for it to change who you are forever.”

  He circled her silently one more time, then pressed the cane between her legs where it was sure to hit her at the home of her most sensitive physical response. He felt her flinch against the bamboo and was pleased with this first sexual response.

  “In our my world, our world, you’ll be known as Veronica X. Has good ring, don’t you think? A bit of sophistication. Classy.” He paused as if she’d actually respond. Of course, she couldn’t. “While you’re with us, that is who you’ll be to us. Internalize that name, create a persona for Veronica X, identify with her, and I’m sure you’ll find your stay with us a little easier to take. There is nothing to fear here but your own imaginings.” He gave her a moment to think on that before finishing. “That’s all you need to know for now, Veronica X, all that matters. You’ll learn more in the days ahead. Now, I’m sure you’re tired, so we’ll be leaving you in your cell.” He motioned to Bo and Zack, who moved in quickly, untying the ropes that bound her wrists, her legs and feet, and then retying her to pallet bed, with her arms above her head and her feet secured below.

  “We’ll see you at sunrise,” Emerson said as he followed his friends out of the cell, then shut it with a clang. He chained the door of bars in place and clicked the padlock shut.

  The three then left the cellar and moved upstairs.

  Chapter Six

  Daphne

  Oh, Yes! There was havoc that night. As soon as the three returned upstairs, Emerson ushered all of us out onto the porch, insisting that we keep our voices down. But that wasn’t possible. Kathy Ann was livid, Penelope scowling and critical. They voiced their objections, and both threatened to leave, or even worse, call the police. I sensed that Bo had his objections too. I could see the worry on his face, but the women were vocal enough for us all.

  The way the scene started, I thought the place would descend into total chaos, with slammed doors and Penelope and Kathy Ann screeching off into the night, returning to the city. I would have liked to have left myself, but of course, I could go nowhere.

  I slumped in a chair, feeling heartsick and nervous as I listened to the heated quarrel. Then, strangely, everything changed, as Emerson’s voice rose above their anger. He gave the soliloquy of his life. His words, his musing, his demons poured from his mouth as if he were defending his very existence. In calm and measured tones, he, for that moment, squelched the panic, and once again, we got caught up in his game, listening with rapt attention to every word. He wound a spell around us as if we were naïve children. He pulled us in when it was most imperative for him to succeed in that task. And he did it so well that afterwards, there were none on that old porch who weren’t convinced, or at least tricked into believing that what we were doing was our moral right.

  It was a perfect case of the ends justifying the means. And how his voice still rings in my ears…

  ‘I know you think me mad as the mad hatter, but this is the most sane and logical thing I’ve ever done. I know, I know,’ he was pounding the doorframe emphatically, ‘that what we are doing here was meant to be done. I know this in my gut. She will be our inspiration, our muse, and what comes of these days will yield remarkable results. I know that to be true. And Veronica X with her petty life, and petty concerns, will be made vital, strong and womanly by our efforts. It is for us to ignite her passion, her physical body and her sorry spirit. I’m amazed that you can’t see it right off. Do I have to explain everything to you?” He sighed deeply and shook his head as if simply couldn’t fathom our hesitation. ‘You look outside the windows of the city and what do you see but mayhem, violence, war, that friggin war. Vietnam will be a plague on our generation’s soul. I know that. But this, this seeming atrocity will be one of our shining hours.’

  I remember then his grim face breaking out into a sleazy smile—and Emerson was hardly ever sleazy.

  ‘It’s just sex, folks. That’s all. We’re going to toy with her, arouse her, teach her, play with her, and let her play right back. She’s going to be fondled and fucked, and whatever we choose to do to her, and you know what?’ He gazed around at us with steady eyes, ‘She’s going to crave it. She will beg for it. I’ve seen it. I know it’s going to happen. If you trust nothing about me, trust that. The little girl is going to become a slut, and that slut is going to have a damn good time.’

  I don’t know how he did it, how he could take something so blatantly
immoral and turn it into a glorified act of human liberation and have us believe him, but he did. We believed him. We honestly believed him. Maybe we were hypnotized. I don’t know. But I do know that we went to bed that night with the kidnapped Veronica X lying in the cellar and all of our minds focused solely on the next day, when Emerson’s experiment began in earnest. She looks her interviewer in the eye. What of this don’t you believe?

  Sadie she clears her throat, as she squirms uncomfortably in her seat

  Well, there’s a lot to question here. But I think the most difficult is to believe that you six could create such a tight alliance that would allow your crime to play out without a hitch.

  Daphne

  Oh, there were hitches! A lot of them. Every day we doubted ourselves. Penelope, Bo, Kathy Ann would raise objections, but every day we were won over by Emerson’s enthusiasm for his game. In that he became relentless. He ran hard and fast through the drills, her indoctrination, her training—and he wouldn’t let anyone leave until the first signs of her breaking down were clearly apparent and we could begin to see the gift we were to bestow on her.

  Sadie

  So, were you more easily accepting of your husband’s scheme than the others?

  Daphne

  No, I was not, I was panicked, like the rest of them. Petrified that we’d be caught. I mean when the papers came out with the story about the missing girl, I threatened to bolt, go to the police, and a dozen undoable ideas ran through my head to extricate myself from it. I argued with Emerson, insisted that he take the girl back and leave her in some safe place. I don’t know how many times, I imagined trying to wipe our fingerprints from her body and clothes, so we could get rid of any trace of who kidnapped her. Of course, none of my ideas made any logical sense. The only way to safely extricate ourselves from this mess and avoid potential prosecution was to do exactly as Emerson planned. If his plan worked, there’d be no victim and thus no crime at all. We had to hope that this was possible.

  Emerson had thought this carefully through. I often shudder to think how many days and nights were spent as he concocted the plan—it may well have been years in the works. One of his first tasks once he had ensnared our imaginations was to gain our compliance by our participation. We were all indicted by our own inner depravity, and so quickly, too. What horrible creatures we must have been to be so easily swayed!

  Was I more accepting of Emerson’s scheme than the others? I think I was more unsettled than anyone else appeared to be. When we were alone in bed that first night, I felt so strange. My husband, the man I thought I loved had just broken the law. He’d kidnapped an innocent woman and was now holding her captive in the same house where we slept. I found that astounding, unnerving. Part of me felt like my entire world was falling away from me, that my future was being written by a madman and there would be no escaping the nightmare. But I had no words then to express my disapproval, so like a coward, I said nothing.

  Sadie

  Then you never agreed that this abduction was a noble exploit?

  Daphne

  Well, yes, I let myself accept Emerson’s logic. It was the expedient thing to do. To not, I would have been torn apart with fear and regret. But now? Do I think it was a noble exploit? No. It was wrong. That some good came of it doesn’t wipe away the fact that we took away the free will of a woman and sought to remake her in the image we chose for her. It was a crime, pure and simple, a terrible crime for which we were never indicted. But that hasn’t kept the cosmic justice from having its say. Each of us in our own way has paid a price for what we did.

  Sadie

  Do you suppose that the nights in the woods and on the beach were deliberately planned to make you ready?

  Daphne

  I’ve sometimes wondered that too. However, I believe that while those savage nights certainly tainted our thoughts with deviant lust and a desire for more, they were not intended as part of Emerson’s plan. The fact that our descent into his world of anarchy helped put us in the mood certainly was to his advantage. He used that mindset well. All he had to do was tap into what was already bubbling erotically inside us.

  ***

  The morning after the abduction, the six conspirators went to the cellar for their first session with the girl. It was to be conducted in silence, according to a plan that seemed perfectly clear to Emerson—and that was all that was necessary. He assumed that the rest of the group would catch on. His only instructions were to remain silent and follow his lead.

  It was clear when the six descended on small cell that Veronica X was already awake. As they circled the pallet, they watched her test the ropes, and then listened to her groan again in dismay to find them dependably secure.

  Emerson knelt at her head and gently stroked her face. “Nothing, nothing will harm you, my dear Veronica,” he whispered softly. “Nothing at all.”

  In viewing her face, the kidnap victim seemed more like a child than a woman, with her vivid tangle of red hair and a sprinkle of freckles just barely visible at the bottom of the blindfold across the bridge of her nose. Her lips were full but pale now, as her lipstick was long ago smudged away in her useless battle for freedom. Viewing her body, however, one could not fail to see what a voluptuous woman she had become in nineteen years. Her breasts burst from her white cotton blouse, and her sensuous wide hips strained the seams of her short red skirt. Every time she squirmed, it seemed that a naturally erotic quality billowed from her struggling form.

  Emerson nodded to Bo and Zack, who on cue, bent down and raised the pallet from the ground and placed it on the small table that had been moved inside the cell. She was now waist high to the six with her physical body convenient to probing hands and tender lips.

  Motioning Penelope, Kathy Ann and Daphne to the table, Emerson indicated that they caress Veronica’s lovely flesh. Meanwhile, Zack began cutting away her clothes. Beginning with the white blouse, he made careful motions using his Swiss Army Knife. With every upward swipe, a little more of the cotton ripped away—it took just two swipes before the girl understood what was happening. She arched her back with a look of anguish crossing her half-hidden features. Her muffled cry followed.

  “Shuuuuuush, girl,” Emerson quietly commanded. “My friend’s knife is very sharp. You wouldn’t want to end up cut.”

  This seemed to momentarily subdue the girl, but her stress—perhaps humiliation—was no less apparent. She shifted from side to side, rocking in a more careful attempt to communicate her distress. But this only made her body more appealing to the eyes that watched in fascinated admiration.

  Soon, Zack tore the remnants of her blouse away, exposing her lovely breasts encased inside a sturdy white brassiere. With every breath, her chest swelled, venting a sensuous lushness that seemed to expand minute by minute. It was hard to believe that the girl was not in some way aroused. Her fear seemed to fall away like icicles warmed by the sun. Kathy Ann ran her warm hands along Veronica’s stretched out legs, noting their smooth and youthful texture. Avoiding Zack’s knife, Daphne grazed her hips and then the girl’s tautly stretched belly. Penelope was, perhaps, the most aggressive of the three, as her hands journeyed along the girl’s arms and caressed her face and neck. She then, without hesitation leaned in and kissed her face, even the lips that had been stretched all night by the cloth gag. The brunette looked toward Emerson as if to ask for him to remove the gag, but he shook his head and mouthed, “In time.” Penelope resumed her play, diving into the girl’s body and pushing the bra aside long before Zack’s knife had a chance to cut it away.

  The three women could feel the girl’s conflict; they understood her fight and yet relished every indication that she was slowly submitting to their kind attention. Once Zack removed the white brassiere, both Penelope and Daphne massaged the exposed bounty with a surprisingly eager Daphne being the first to take Veronica’s pink nipple into her mouth. The steamy sensuality made the cellar warm and damp, as the fragrant fire of all four women clouded the air with female es
sence.

  As Zack moved on to cut at Veronica’s little red skirt, the attentive group stopped their play long enough to watch the pretty pussy unveiled by his careful swipes. With the knife poised just under the waistband of the girl’s white panties, he looked up, gazing into all three women’s eyes and smiled broadly. Then with a sudden sweep upward, the nylon fabric split down the center and fell to the side, sending a fresh gust of feminine perfume into the air above, joining what had already become a heady sexual aroma. Two more strategically located swipes of his pocketknife and the panties were pulled aside and tossed to the floor, leaving the girl’s body naked, glowing softly in the incandescent light. Veronica’s pink white flesh was spotted with a few errant freckles and looked like precious alabaster, smooth and almost new. And there at the apex of her thighs was a nymph-like pubic mound with delicate labia lips just barely covered in a cottony fluff of pale red pubic hair.

  The girl thrashed more now than she had since their work began, her big breasts knocking back and forth and her hips rocking side to side, looking as if they were straining to close, to cover her nakedness and the private places now brutally bared. Her neck and face reddened. Was she embarrassed or aroused? Her frantic movements panicked or fraught with desire?

  Her fighting and thrashing got her nowhere. The warm female hands moved with ease over every inch of her lustrous body. The three massaged her legs, her thighs, her belly, her breasts; their lips tugged at the blindfold, and the buds of her nipples, and in one bold and terrorizing move a finger, Daphne’s to be precise, moved in-between her lower lips and inched its way deep where it might find a wetness gathering there. She shuddered in response, as a vicious but wonderful feeling darting through her body everywhere.

 

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