Nandita To Nandini
- 3 years ago
- 261
- 0
Deja Vu AscendancyChapter 226: Without Boss And Goon free porn video
Thursday, May 19 to Saturday, May 21, 2005
First a brief report on events in Corvallis. Thursday morning Julia had called my cellphone to tell me what to wear to school. When I didn't answer her call to my cell, Julia called her home's landline. When no one answered that she successively called her parents' and Ava's cellphones, alerting my family with her increasingly frantic concerns while the phones were ringing unanswered. Thus the discovery process started thirty minutes earlier than it would have from my failing to pick up everybody for school.
Mom stayed with Carol and Donna at a neighbor's place while Dad drove like a maniac to the Williams', with Julia calling the police from the car. Dad and Julia arrived before the cops. Dad made Julia stay in the car while he went inside using Julia's key. The first thing he saw was the broken security system. He rushed back to Julia, told her to report that to 9-1-1, then went back inside. He found an exhausted Ava bound to the bed in Julia's room. She'd been struggling to escape for hours. He released her while she told him what little she knew, then he found an identically bound Vanessa. Then the cops started arriving.
I removed our hoods as soon as Boss's and Goon's footsteps had faded away, hopefully for a few days. And while I was hoping for things, I hoped the cops would be the next people we saw, preferably closely followed by a pizza delivery guy, because I was getting hungry.
The baddies would probably be away for quite a while, so I was tempted to try removing the gags too. I thought I had a good chance of getting them off if I tugged for long enough, but I decided not to because I wouldn't be able to put them back on convincingly. If the baddies returned before we got a lucky break, they'd be angry at us because of the fake story, and the extra annoyance and suspicion caused by very loose gags might make a fatal difference.
I'd leaned forward to inspect the damage to my left leg. It was very visibly smashed, with the skin torn and the end of my fractured bone sticking out sickeningly. I controlled my nausea long enough to forcefully imagine that the blood flow was stopping around the torn area. I looked away, with no intention of ever looking again.
That urgent job done, Prof and I signaled back and forth. The story he'd told the baddies was one he hadn't mentioned to me before. There were some boxes of junk in the back of his garage, one of which contained an old toaster; and there were old cans of paint too, so the baddies had stuff to keep them busy, hopefully long enough to either get caught (surely there'd be cops around) or somehow lead the cops to us. The chance of someone else finding us (say the local city's regular Basement Safety Inspector) wasn't looking too hopeful, given Boss's lack of concern at leaving us here.
The thought of some member of the public being upstairs made me think about removing my gag so I could yell for help, but I figured I could tap on the wooden ceiling beams quite loudly with my ring, which should resound even better than my voice would. Despite Boss's saying, "Leave nothing useful," they'd left the possibly useful ring.
[[Boss had expected to have to go on recovery trip(s), and had always intended to take Goon with him. This house was chosen for its being a good place to leave us unattended. For example, we couldn't hear anyone at the front door and neither could they hear any noises we might make; the door at the top of the stairs was locked to discourage any casual visitor coming down, and the landlord was not a local. Boss didn't want a third partner, and leaving Goon with us was a bad idea, as Boss wanted us to be alive when he returned. He expected any recovery trip(s) to have less than a 50/50 chance of being successful, as in his experience people often lie under torture, sometimes needing several motivation sessions to provide the correct combination for the safe, or whatever. The house was a good enough place to leave us alone, and a few days without food and water would add very nicely to our torture. The property had quite a long driveway, at the road end of which he'd tied a thin string across it. Any vehicle turning into the driveway would break the string. A rag was attached near one end of it, so when they returned and drove past at the normal speed, a quick glance at whether the rag was raised or lying limp against the tree trunk would reveal whether the string was broken or not.]]
^
We had a long, boring wait, which was WAY better than being tortured! The more waiting the better, because it increased our chance of being found by someone.
Even at our letter-by-letter rate, we communicated a lot, including Prof's agreeing with the gags staying on. We tried to plan responses to every possible future scenario, from someone walking around upstairs through to the baddies returning after failing to get into the garage, or discovering we'd lied, or kidnapping more people, etc. Prof had located the imaginary machine inside the garage rather than the house itself especially to minimize the danger to the rest of his family. He hoped the chosen location would stall the baddies as it'd be difficult for them to get at, and it might lead to their being caught, as there should be cops around.
There was a great deal of personal communication between us. When you're facing death you have a need for that, even when you're trying to pretend that you're not worried. We weren't facing death directly, as Goon would almost certainly remove our hoods before starting to kill us, whereupon his eyeballs would be history. It was immediately after that, that things got very tricky. We tried to plan for that event too.
We loved the slow, uneventful passing of time, except for the issues of excretion, exercise, food, water and even boredom.
I NP'd my severed finger up to my face so I could look at it closely (blame boredom). Despite all my talk with Sensei about how easy it was to visualize fingers in external locations, seeing my finger disconnected from my hand was an EXTREMELY weird and uncomfortable experience, but somehow fascinating. I don't recommend it though. I returned it to the floor, placing it under Prof's chair so he wouldn't have to look at it.
We both had to piss. Fortunately I could use NP to aim our cocks so we stayed dry, except for a few drops which soon dried. Somewhat more than a few drops in Prof's case, rather graphically teaching me that old guys can't piss as well as young ones. Opening Prof's PJs and holding his cock was an unnatural act, but he told me not to be silly, a letter at a time.
I managed to avoid the need to have a crap, but Prof couldn't, so he spent most of the time sitting in his own shit.
Sitting in the bare metal chairs for hour after hour caused ever-increasing discomfort, especially for Prof. We wished we could get up and walk around (for a variety of reasons), but the best we could do was flex our muscles, do very small squats, and make other small movements. It was a major pain in the ass.
We knew that people could survive weeks without food, so we weren't worried about that no matter how uncomfortable it was going to be. Going hungry wasn't going to be fun, but it was our firm favorite over more torture, so the longer the baddies were away, the happier we'd be. Although after a day, I was hoping that the pizza delivery guy would arrive first, closely followed by the police, but otherwise we put up with it.
Water is what we started missing the most. We'd both heard that people can go for much longer without food than water, but we didn't know what the timeframes were. In our ignorance, we'd assumed water wouldn't be a big deal. I'm used to being hungry several times a day, but I'm rarely conscious of thirst except after strenuous exercise or work, neither of which applied now.
Our not being concerned about liquids lasted, we guessed, about a day (I'd taken my watch off before having sex with Ava. Just as well, or Goon might have severed my wrist to claim it). After that day, our thirst became something we were increasingly conscious of.
A lot of time passed, whether rapidly or slowly we had no way of knowing. It certainly passed unpleasantly, with thirst, hunger and discomfort becoming acute.
^
We heard what was recognizably Boss's and Goon's footsteps descending the stairs after what we thought was about three days. I muttered "Frgh" (it would have been "Fuck" without the gag), created a light blob, turned the room's light off (we'd been using it rather than a light blob), put our hoods back on, then canceled the light blob.
[[It was only two days. We'd been kidnapped very early Thursday morning and they'd left on their mission to get the machine from Prof's garage later that day. The baddies had arrived in Corvallis early Thursday evening, spent Thursday night studying what was going on and giving time for the commotion to diminish. They'd broken into the garage in the wee small hours of Saturday morning, had loaded up their van with the boxes of junk and all the paint cans, and had then driven to a safe location to search through them. Finding neither of the two parts, they'd returned to our prison, arriving about dawn on Saturday. During the trip back Boss had told Goon what to do on arrival. They were going to play their version of "Good Cop / Bad Cop", which in their case was "Bad Criminal / Bad and Murderously Psychotic Criminal" (Goon taking the latter role, as he had a natural affinity for it). When Boss gave the word, Goon was going to go psycho with the length of timber, pretending to lose control, but 'only' breaking my arms and legs repeatedly until Boss called him off, hopefully after Prof or I coughed up the desired information.]]
Their footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs in the other room, crossed the room, there was a small thump on the wall beside the door, then the door opened and they walked into the room, accompanied by the sound of Goon menacingly slapping the piece of 2-by-4 into his palm. Goon stopped that long enough to remove our hoods and gags, then resumed acting menacing. He was good at it.
Both guys were looking highly pissed off and ready to take it out on us. Boss spent a couple of minutes ranting and raving about how "Fuckin' angry I am at your fuckin stupidity," etc. Before they'd left a few days ago, Boss had promised terrible consequences if Prof's story was a lie. It had been a lie, and now Boss was enjoying describing what Goon was going to do to me. "Terrible consequences" was an accurate description.
They were far too terrible to be allowed to happen. Prof and I had discussed this scenario, and we couldn't let them carry out their threats because if I was injured much more than I was now, I wouldn't be able to get us out of here even if they released me from the chains - and it looked very much as if they were about to injure me MUCH more! There were two of us here, which they would think was one more than they needed to learn the secret of our roulette win. It was obvious that they were going to beat me severely to pressure Prof into telling the secret, and if that didn't work, the next obvious escalation was to kill me horribly in front of Prof, threatening to do the same to him if he didn't cough up.
[[Boss certainly didn't look it, but he wasn't actually upset. In the course of his career, he'd many times had to coerce information out of people. In Vegas, people sometimes acquire large sums of cash that they physically hide rather than deposit in a bank, to avoid having to pay tax on it, have their spouse know about it, or for many other reasons. Boss preyed on such people. That was partly why he'd been in the casino when Prof and I had been: he'd been prowling for big winners, that being one of his standard scouting methods. He rather enjoyed the information-extraction game, and was smart enough to see its big picture. Goon was more of an immediate gratification kind of guy, but Boss had spent a good portion of the return trip getting Goon into the right mindset. He wanted Goon to smash me up, but not to lose control and kill me. That would be the slow and very deliberate next stage, if we didn't talk or if the next retrieval trip didn't produce the goods. Boss's current ranting to us was partly to work on our psychology, and partly to give him time to check to make sure we were awake and aware enough to get the full benefit out of what was to follow. It'd be no good beating us for information if we were too weak or dehydrated to think or talk.]]
Boss decided we were both fit enough to provide him with the information he wanted, so he said, "I wouldn't want ya to think I'd break my word, so practice baseball all ya want Tom, just like I promised, haha. Smash the stupid fucker to a pulp, haha."
Goon chuckled homicidally, hefting his bat and advancing toward me, doing an excellent job of showing delight at being able to unleash all his viciousness.
Boss leaned against the wall, folded his arms, and waited for the screaming to start.
I saw Prof nod, which I TOTALLY agreed with, so I started arranging for the screaming to start. I got all my minds to actively center, as having a four-mind poke, rather than a three-mind one, might make all the difference between bursting an eyeball or not, with "not" being a very bad outcome. So all four of my minds tried VERY hard to keep a very calm, centered state of mind. If we all lost center, the NP-points would cancel, which would be very inconvenient if we only had a narrow window of opportunity.
We created four minimum-sized fingertips, one behind the other with the front one shaped to be as sharp as its mind could make it, forming a disappointingly blunt NP-spear aimed at Goon's right eye. NP-fingertips have no mass, and therefore no momentum (momentum equals mass times velocity), so there's no point in "taking a run" at the target. We simply created the 'spear' ahead of Goon, moved it immediately in front of his right eyeball, crossed our metaphorical fingers (most of our real ones no longer working) then had all the fingertips push straight forward with their maximum thrust - 14.1 pounds of force plus whatever tiny improvement we'd made from all our tedious practice pushing against walls and the ground.
Goon screamed, dropped his 'bat', and flung his head back as his hands reached for his face. The speed of his reaction was too damned fast for me to spear his remaining eye.
Goon was screaming and spinning around wildly, so I'd probably get a look at his remaining eye soon, but I better check what Boss was doing first.
The asshole was running out of the room! He usually stands near the doorway and well away from us, but I never expected him to run away from two bound guys, especially when he'd seen that we hadn't moved a muscle. The only thing I could think to do was ankle-tap him, hoping to trip him before he got away, then get his eyeballs when he was looking around to see what the fuck was going on.
I tripped him, and he fell forward, but he was so close to the doorway that he easily caught himself on the doorframe, regained his footing and shot out of the room, never looking back.
I heard Prof yell, "TOM! Behind you!"
I looked at Tom, as he spun around to look in my general direction. Mentally thanking Prof, I destroyed Goon's remaining eyeball, causing his screams to reach an even greater volume.
I put #2 back on duty, to be sure I'd be centered if something surprising, and therefore distracting, happened.
#1:
#3:
#4:
I caught a peripheral flicker of movement in the doorway. It was Boss, crouching around the doorframe with a pistol in his hand, aimed toward me. That massively discouraged me from poking him in the eye. Boss looked to be cautious and in control, so there was no need for me to do anything immediately.
I was debating how to get him to point his gun elsewhere, and to keep it pointing that way while I destroyed both his eyes, when Prof yelled, "DON'T SHOOT! Tom's hemorrhaged. Bad temper. Blood pressure. Call 9-1-1." Prof was talking in short sentences because our mouths were so dry that talking was difficult. Especially for him, by the sound of his voice.
"Yeah, right!"
Goon responded to Prof's statements by calling out, "I can't fuckin' see! My eyes hurt like fuck." In a self-pitying tone, "I'm blind, Dom. My face's wet. Somethin' fuckin' bad happened."
Dom didn't react to our hearing his name. He said, "Stay there. I'm comin'."
Boss cautiously edged into the room, gun at the ready. He circled wide around me, keeping his eyes on both of us. He got to the piece of wood, picked it up, and used it to reach under my chair from behind to prod the chains, to make sure they were securely padlocked to the ringbolt. I was naked with the chain wrapped around my waist and both forearms, so it was pretty obvious that I wasn't going anywhere.
He repeated the exercise with Prof, then moved to the far side of Tom. Putting the wood down beside him, but retaining his hold on the gun in one hand, he used his free hand to start trying to get Tom to remove his hands from his face.
#1:
#4:
#2:
#1:
#2:
Dani
- 25.12.2020
- 15
- 0
226 JULIE KNEW IN REALITY
- 3 years ago
- 31
- 0
Hamida Is Back 8211 Part 6 One Last Time With A Goon
- 1 year ago
- 18
- 0
