Just Another Day In Paradise Days 1 and 2
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Just Another Day In Paradise - Day 10 free porn video
Day 10 - Monday
The first thing that made me notice I was alive and awake was the pounding
of my heartbeat in my head, the pain emanating from my temple and the back
of my head, where I could also feel my hair was matted with dried blood.
I couldn't see a thing, except for an incredibly thin dot of light at the
edges of my nose, and I was unable to move from the sitting position I was
in. Trying to ignore the pain drilling through my skull, I tried to take
stock of my situation.
Obviously I was blindfold. As I became more aware and focused on my
situation, I could feel the strip of cloth across my face and where it
ended in a knot, tight to the back of my wounded head. My mouth was held
open by some kind of gag that was strapped around my face, stretching my
jaw apart. My arms were tied together somehow behind me, and apparently
behind some kind of rough, wide pole that I could feel rubbing against my
bare arms. Whatever was holding my wrists together was thin and tough,
digging into my flesh if I tried to separate them. My ankles and knees
were also tied together, meaning I was unable to push my legs out in any
way to force myself to stand. Finally, there was something around my
neck, something that made a dull clang against the pole behind me when I
tried to move. Clearly I was in a lot of trouble.
I couldn't see how anyone could have sneaked up on both myself and Lt.
Schlafly, so she had to be my abductor, but why? What had I done that
would upset her enough to do this to me - clearly it wasn't something that
involved the actual police department, or she would have just arrested me.
Was it simply because of the way I was now choosing to live my life, was
she attacking me because I was choosing to become a woman? I knew such a
thing was possible, even in these somewhat more enlightened times, there
were always news stories on gay and transgendered people being persecuted,
attacked or even killed purely because of the way they chose to live their
life.
Ugh, thinking, moving, doing anything but sitting blankly still made my
head pound all the harder, but I knew things weren't going to end well if
I didn't try to get out of wherever I was. I needed to be able to better
take stock of my situation so I could try and make an escape plan, and to
do that I needed to be able to see. I pressed my head back against the
pole behind me, feeling the knot of the blindfold digging into my scabbed
head wound. I could hear my own grunts of pain, muffled by the gag in my
mouth, as I moved my head around, trying to find a purchase on the pole.
Finally, the knot caught on something on the rough surface, and slowly,
painfully, I began to push my head down and back, side to side, trying to
slip the blindfold over my head.
The pain from the knot pressing into the back of my head was almost
equally matched by the material bunching under my eyebrows, but finally,
and with a muffled scream into my gag, I managed to jerk my head downward
enough to release my eyes, and the blindfold slipped to the floor beside
me. I took in my surroundings. I was in a large, open room, dank and
musty smelling, with a lot of clutter all around me. Narrow windows
running across one wall at the very ceiling suggested I was likely in a
basement. I realized I could smell gasoline, could see a couple of red
metal gas cans sitting open against one wall, and I knew I was in some
serious trouble. I tried to scream out for help, but all that came
through the gag was muffled 'mmmph's' that even I could barely hear.
Barring an unlikely rescue, the only way I was getting out of here was
under my own steam.
Twisting and craning my neck, I tried to see exactly what was binding me.
At my knees and ankles, a thin, very frayed rope was tied in tight knots.
I was still dressed in my fuchsia swimsuit and shorts, so the rope was
against my bare skin - I'd give myself friction burns from it if I moved
my legs too much. My wrists were tied together with a plastic ziptie,
and, out of the corner of my eye, around my neck I recognized the lock end
of a bicycle U-lock behind the pole, which itself turned out to be a wide,
rusty pipe.
I knew the first thing I needed to do was to get my wrists free. From
there, I'd be able to easily untie the ropes from my legs and unstrap the
gag from my mouth, and then I'd either be able to stretch out to find
something around the room that would help me with the U-lock, or scream
out for help. Of course getting my wrists free was going to be easier
said than done. Swinging myself haltingly around the pipe, I soon
discovered there wasn't anything close enough for me to reach with my feet
or hands to help with cutting. I had only one option.
The ziptie dug into the flesh of my wrists as I stretched it as much as it
could go and began to scrape it up and down the pipe, hoping the rough
rusted patches would wear the plastic down enough to break it apart. My
teeth ground into the gag from the pain, not just from my wrists, but also
the unnatural position and stress that had been placed on my shoulders. I
could feel tears of agony freely flowing down my cheeks, but I knew I had
to keep at it, that I was likely faced with a choice between damaged
wrists or death. I have no idea how long I sat there, running my arms up
and down that pipe, leaning forward as much as I could against the U-lock
to provide the best leverage, but I never stopped, even for a second. Not
even when I couldn't hold the pressure that had been slowly building in my
bladder any longer, the warm wetness spreading beneath me, soaking into my
clothing, matched by the tears that ran down my face. Not even when I
began to feel the blood leaking from my wrists where it ran down my palms
and dripped from my fingertips.
The sound of that ziptie breaking, the freedom of being able to rub the
life back into the bloody soreness my wrists had become, it was probably
the greatest sense of achievement I'd ever had. I couldn't sit and
celebrate too long though, there was still work to be done. I quickly
worked my long nails in to the frayed knots at my knees and ankles, and
once they were free, wrapped my former blindfold around my left wrist, the
bloodiest of the two. I unstrapped what turned out to be a bright red
ball gag from my head, working my aching jaw around to remove the
numbness, and pushed myself up the pipe into a standing position, my legs
feeling like jelly after spending so long inactive. I still had the
hardest part of my captivity to escape from though - the U-lock was going
to require either its key or some kind of saw to remove it from around my
neck.
I slipped my hands into my little, tight pockets. Obviously my phone was
no longer there and my driver's license was gone too, I guess to ensure my
body was harder to identify; all that remained was the small amount of
cash I had picked up and the near-empty tube of lipstick I had wanted to
replace. I began to scan the room for anything that could help me.
Obviously I had no idea what direction the room was facing in, but from
the way the shadows from the sunlight streaming through the grubby, narrow
windows had moved across the room during the time I had been working on
freeing my hands, the sun was rising. It had been early in the afternoon
when I had left Waikiki Beach, which meant if it was morning now, it had
been almost a whole day since I had been abducted! Surely Nick would have
the police out looking for me by now, but besides the high school where I
had been taken, how would they know where to look?
I was too afraid to yell out for help - what if Lt. Schlafly, or whoever
my abductor was, was nearby and came back to resecure my bindings? I was
so afraid of this, I even tried my best to stop the ragged, sobbing
breaths I had been making ever since I'd managed to remove the gag from my
mouth. No, I needed to find some way to get this unwanted collar from
around my neck by myself. I circled the pipe, scanning eagle-eyed through
the nearby clutter for something, anything that could help me. I was
beginning to lose hope, on the verge of tears, circling a second, a third
time... when there it was! I had noticed the small wooden handle sticking
out of a cardboard box before, I realized, it just hadn't connected in my
panicked brain what it could be. Craning my neck, stretching against the
restrictive collar, standing on my tiptoes to get a better look, I saw the
dull glint of metal. A blade, a hacksaw blade in fact.
I could reach it, I felt sure. It'd be a stretch, but I was sure I could.
My life depended on it. I lowered myself back down, first in to the
sitting position I had woken in, then inching further and further down the
pipe, I began to move my legs out toward the box. It was a strange thing
to think, but even in my panicked fear, I couldn't help but notice how
smoothly feminine they looked, especially now that I had spent some time
tanning them. I couldn't spend my time admiring myself though, I had work
to do. I shook my head to clear it, then continued to inch my way down.
I was almost lying flat now, but my feet were still inches away from the
box. I got down as low as I could and pointed my toes, but I was still
agonizingly unable to touch my prize, my savior.
There was still more I could do, but it was going to be dangerous. I put
my hands behind my head, wrapping them around the pipe, and taking a deep
breath, I began to force myself further out. The U-lock was pressing into
my throat under my cheekbones, cutting off my air supply, as I stretched
out more. Still I pushed, my eyes were glazing over, stars flashing in
front of them. As I felt the life begin to drain out from my body, I gave
an almighty heave away from the pipe, slamming my foot down to the ground.
It caught the edge of the box, flipping its contents up in the air,
scattering them about the room.
I lay there, panting, gasping for breath, unable to do more than try to
force oxygen into my body. I couldn't be sure yet if I'd managed to get
the saw within my reach, or if I'd just knocked it further away. The pain
of my wrists and throat, the lack of oxygen, it was all I could do to lay
there and stare at the ceiling for the moment, trying to catch my breath.
Gradually I felt strong enough to pull myself back, raise my head enough
to look at what I had done. The hacksaw lay on the ground, just within
reach of my toes. Choking myself against the U-lock once more, I
stretched out, hooking the toe of my shoe inside the upper handle of the
hacksaw, and dragged it towards me, pulling myself back to breathe again
as soon as I could. Finally it was close enough to kick up toward my
hand, and I picked it up.
It wasn't exactly the newest of blades. Slightly rusty, although not
nearly as bad as the pipe I was chained to, and some of its jagged teeth
out of alignment, it wasn't exactly what I would have asked for, given the
choice. Still, I had no choice - this was all I had to free myself, so
free me it must. Still feeling woozy from having to near choke myself to
death, I raised back up to sit, leaning my back against the pipe, reaching
behind me to place the blade of the saw against where the U piece met the
big block of the lock.
The screech of metal cutting through metal was near unbearable, so close
to my ear as it was. A thousand nails on chalkboards, a choir of howler
monkeys or Joan Rivers, Perez Hilton and Gilbert Gottfried having a chat
would have all been preferable to hear, but to me it was becoming the
sound of freedom. Slowly but surely, the misaligned teeth of the hacksaw
blade were cutting through my collar, each run through of the blade
setting me micrometers closer to escape, to safety, to Nick.
There was also the constant worry of sparks setting the place ablaze. I
could feel them against my neck, each light sting a worrying reminder of
what could happen if the gasoline caught. With each graunching scrape
though, my worry began to ease - perhaps the gas had not been spread
around the room yet? I had to admit, I would have expected to see pools
of liquid, but the place looked dry - maybe the cans had just been opened
to scare me into not working on my escape?
Time ticked slowly by. I twisted my head around to see how much I had
managed to cut, discovering the blade to be very close to completing its
journey. I owned one of these locks though - I knew the way it was
designed meant that both sides would have to be cut, the block wasn't just
going to swing around once one side had been freed. I continued to work
away, letting out a joyous gasp as finally the blade slipped through the
last slivers of metal, biting into the pipe behind me. I freed it, and
got to work on the other side. The block already felt slightly loose -
though I couldn't move it much by hand, if I'd had something to hand to
give it a good solid whack or several, I might have been able to knock it
clear, but there was nothing that looked heavy enough within reaching
distance.
Knowing the long way around was my only option, all I could do was
continue to saw away at the metal lock. I was tired from all the effort I
had already put into escaping from my bindings, but if anything I worked
harder, faster, knowing that I was so close to escaping! All of a sudden,
I heard a noise beyond the screeching of the blade on metal; I stopped
sawing to listen. An engine, tires on gravel outside... no, I was out of
time! So close yet so far!
I knew I would be in trouble if my captor came in and saw me halfway
through my escape plan, but perhaps I could take them by surprise?
Feelingly strangely calm about the danger I was in, I shoved the saw under
my butt, hiding it from view and wrapped the rope, untied, around my legs.
Hating the feeling of it, I strapped the ball gag loosely into my mouth,
placed the blindfold back over my eyes, and put my hands back behind the
pipe as if they were still tied there. Just in time too, I heard a door
open and close, feet walking down the stone steps to the basement floor
where I sat.
I could hear my captor mumbling to themselves. Though I couldn't make out
any words, the tone sounded angry. That could be either good or bad -
angry enough and I could catch them off-guard, too angry and they may just
kill me before I had time to act. The footsteps were getting closer, and
I put all my concentration into not moving a muscle, not giving away that
the majority of my bonds no longer held me.
The clicking footsteps stopped right next to me and all of a sudden I felt
a hand on my face, nails digging into my cheeks, as a second hand grasped
at my blindfold, beginning to raise it. I swung my right hand around with
all my might, connecting hard with flesh and bone, there was a scream, two
in fact, from my captor as they fell to my side and a muffled one from me
as the nails raked across my cheeks. Quick as a flash, my blindfold and
gag were off, and I had the saw to my captor's wrist.
"LET ME GO!" I screamed, "LET ME GO OR I CUT IT OFF! GIVE ME...
the...... keys......."
I tailed off as my eyes registered what was in front of me. It was the
Lieutenant who had abducted me, or at least it was she who I was currently
threatening, but I had forgotten to take one thing into account - the
police tended to be equipped with guns, one of which was pointed directly
between my eyes, her body twisted around to do so.
"Go ahead. You'll be dead before you draw blood." She replied, acid
dripping from every word.
I hesitated. I knew I couldn't call her bluff; a bullet to the brain
wasn't exactly something you could recover from with a night in hospital,
barring a one in a million chance. But to have come so close, so near to
engineering my own escape and to fall at the last hurdle... it was
agonizing. Slowly, the frustration I felt surely clear on my face, I
withdrew the hacksaw. She stood up, kicking it out of my hand and then
punching me hard across the jaw, causing me to scream in pain.
"That's it, you little freak. Scream all you want, there's no-one out
here to hear you. And it only makes me happy to see you in pain, you
little bitch." She laughed, driving home the last word with a kick to the
gut, the pointed toe of her high heel digging in and causing me to grunt
as the wind was knocked out of me. "You're no good to me dead though, you
have something I want. If you give it to me, maybe you'll get to live out
your perverted little life."
I could see in her eyes that was a lie. As soon as she got whatever it
was she thought I had, I'd be drawing my final breath. My only chance of
survival lay in walking the line between appearing to help, while actually
being very unhelpful, all the while making sure I didn't piss her off to
the point that she just did away with me.
"I know you have them." She continued, "give them to me now and I'll let
you live."
I had no idea what she was talking about, I had to stall for time while I
tried to figure it out. "Where's Nick?" I asked. "You've held me here
for more than a day, he's got to be trying to find me!"
"Your perverted homo 'boyfriend'?" I could hear the airquotes she put
around the last word, the sneer of contempt clear on her face. "He won't
be looking for you any time soon. Ever in fact. The dead can't search
for the living, though I'm sure you'll be happily reunited at the bottom
of the Pacific if you don't tell me where they are this minute!"
Nick was dead? No, that couldn't be possible! I could feel the tears
running down my face at the thought. "You killed Nick?" I sobbed, "Why?
What did he ever do to you?"
"Exactly the same thing that Alexis Bailey and her friends did, that
you've done - you all got in my way, screwed me over. If he hadn't come
into your hotel room while I was searching it, he'd probably still be
running around the island trying but never finding you."
I wanted to believe Nick was still alive, but that crime scene photo that
Detective Kaho had shown Nick and I swam into my recollection. Anyone who
could perpetrate that kind of monstrosity was clearly ruthless, insane or
both, and probably more besides. I was unprepared for how much it hurt
that Nick was gone from my life; the tears rolled down my face, dripping
from the point of my chin, sobs racking my body. I had to stay focused
though - one way or another, his murderer was going to be brought to
justice, and I had to be alive to make sure that happened. The slap that
rang across my cheek only helped me to gather myself together, gather my
wits.
"Ok, mourning time is over. Tell me where you stashed them, or..." she
growled, drawing a short-bladed, serrated knife from her belt, "I start to
cut bits of you off."
I still had no idea what 'them' was, but an idea was beginning to form in
my mind. If I could persuade her that whatever it was she was looking for
was in a place that she wouldn't be able to get to without me, I might be
able to get free of this infernal collar locking me in place. How I got
away after that, I'd have to play by ear, but surely something would crop
up.
"No! Don't, I'll... I'll tell you!" I didn't have to fake the fear in my
voice, it was all too real. "When I found them... after I'd already
reported the suitcases being switched, I knew I could be in trouble; that
someone might come looking for them, looking for me. I knew I had to hide
them."
"I kind of figured that out for myself, given they weren't in the returned
suitcase or your hotel room. When I told you that you could keep one or
two things, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Now tell me," she
threatened, pointing the knife at me, "where you hid them."
"I didn't know where would be best, so I gave them to a friend to hide."
"This story's taking too long! Give me names and places or I take fingers
instead!" She yelled, the anger etched across her forehead.
"My friend Kimi - she's the one who helped me become a girl." I ignored
her snort of derision, and continued, "It's not going to be as simple as
just finding her and threatening her though. I told her to hide them
somewhere public so there'd always be people around, and to never reveal
the location to anyone unless I was there to OK it, even if my life was in
danger."
"You seriously believe she's not going to cave if I tell her you'll be
tortured within an inch of your life?"
"Yes, actually, I do. She's faced more adversity in her life than you can
possibly imagine so she's tougher than you think."
"Ugh, I don't have time for this!" She sighed. "Fine, I'll take you with
me, but if you try and escape, I'll shoot you dead and claim you were a
fugitive, wanted in connection with the murders of Alexis Bailey and her
friends. Trust me, it'll be easy enough to pin it on you - it won't be
the first time for me."
She reached into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a small key on a
ring, then a strange look came over her face and she hesitated as she was
about to toss the key to me. "What exactly was it that you gave her to
hide?"
Fuck. I still wasn't any closer to knowing what it was she was looking
for, and my hesitation made it clear that I had been bluffing. She
cursed, dropping the key back into her pocket.
"Oh for fuck's sake... I can't believe I almost fell for that. You don't
even know why you're here do you? What it is that you accidentally
stumbled on?" She closed her eyes, her head raised to the ceiling, then
turned and picked up a tipped over chair from the floor, sitting down on
it with a sigh. "Well I suppose it's only fair that your last moments on
this earth aren't spent in ignorance..."
She sat and stared at me for a moment, her elbow on her knee and chin in
hand, obviously marshaling her thoughts.
"Cops don't get paid a whole lot, even when they rise up the ranks. I
figured out pretty quickly that if I was to live my life the way I wanted
to, I was going to have to supplement my income. Pretty early in my
career, I arrested a guy, a professional thief, and I cut him a deal - I'd
get him off on a technicality, and he'd go to work for me - that he jumped
at.
"So we started off small, local, but eventually he moved to the mainland,
pulling off bigger and bigger jobs, mostly money, sometimes jewelry all of
which was brought here to Hawaii to be laundered or fenced. Items that'd
still be hot on the mainland... well, they wouldn't be so much over here -
either the news wouldn't travel too well, or no-one would even care.
That's where people like Alexis Bailey came in. People, college students
mostly, who'd jump at the chance of a free vacation and some spending
money, just for bringing to me whatever innocuous item my friend gave
them, an item that hid whatever he had stolen. We kept a few going at a
time, on multiple trips spread across a long period of time. Once they
started to get suspicious about what was so important about what they were
bringing, I killed them and pinned the murder on some poor schmuck if I
could, or just let the case go cold if not.
"Alexis Bailey was unknowingly bringing one of our biggest heists yet to
me - 4 diamonds all over 20 carats, worth thousands, maybe millions of
dollars if the right buyer could be found. When I found out she'd lost
her case, that the diamonds were missing... well, you saw what happened."
"But... how come it took a whole week for you to find me? You knew I had
the case, I reported it to the airline the moment I found out." If this
was going to be the end for me, I was going to make sure all my questions
were satisfied, trying to drag it out as long as possible.
"I assumed I'd be able to find whoever took the case from looking at
airport security camera footage, but there was never a shot clear enough
to make an identification. The airline never reported Bailey and her
friends missing at all, I had to fabricate that after the fact, and I
still couldn't subpoena their records to get information on who had the
case until the bodies were discovered and reported. Missing persons cases
aren't my department, I couldn't throw what I knew behind it until it came
to the homicide department.
"So I had you, I had my link to my diamonds back... it was pretty obvious
a couple of tourists would be able to alibi out of the murders with the
small amount of evidence we had gathered, and at the time it seemed like
the only interest you had in the contents of the case were the clothes, so
I threw you and your disgusting peccadillo a bone and let you keep a few
things, knowing I'd finally have my hands on the only thing in there that
was important. Once I found they weren't there... I tried to get you and
your 'boyfriend' to meet up with me so I could force you to give them
back. When only you showed, I had to change my plan yet again. And now I
find out you didn't even know a thing about the diamonds, that you
probably just threw whatever they were inside into the trash... well, I
guess you've outlived your usefulness, and I guess some new evidence just
cropped up in the Bailey murder."
"No! This is crazy; look, there must be some way I can help! I... I
don't want to die."
"Of course it's crazy! This is millions of dollars we're talking about!
I get my hands on those diamonds... Well, anyway, enough talk."
She stood, pulling the gun back out of her belt and began to walk
purposefully toward me. I screamed, raising my arms in an involuntary
vain effort to protect myself, drawing my knees up to my chest, trying to
ball myself up and not leave anything vital exposed. My eyes closed in
fear, yet somehow over my own scream, I heard something hit the floor with
a clack, quickly followed by a crunching sound. There was a beat as I
waited for death to take me, before I heard Lt. Schlafly's voice.
"Are you... kidding me? You had them on you the whole time?"
I opened my eyes, taking in the scene beside me. Schlafly had one foot
raised off the ground, under which were the remains of the empty tube of
lipstick that must have slipped out of my pocket. Amongst the pieces of
golden plastic, the sunlight glinted off the largest diamonds I had ever
seen. Her mouth was open, her body frozen in position, gazing in
reverence at the glittering objects below her.
I saw my opportunity and took it. Before she could move, I swung my body
around, scissoring one leg around her planted foot and slamming my other
foot into her leg just above it. The strangely satisfying snap of her
ankle breaking between mine mingled with her scream of pain as she toppled
to the floor next to me. The gun flew away into the clutter and I made a
grab for her, straining against the lock around my throat. Her jacket
pocket tore away in my hand, and I scrabbled for the key to my prison.
Before I could raise it behind me to the lock there was a sharp prick on
my throat. The knife, I forgot the knife.
"Fuck. You." Lt. Schlafly's angry face, panting as she grappled with the
pain of her broken ankle, the knife tip pressed against my throat.
Pain beyond anything I'd experienced.
Blood trickling down my chest.
Unable to breathe.
A pounding sound, my last heartbeats in my ears, I assumed.
Shouting. My own? Hers?
Then nothing, except the knowledge that wherever I was going, Nick would
be there waiting for me.
Clover
- 08.06.2022
- 16
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