The Present inside The Box [MF] [Abduction] [Humiliation] [Bondage]

There was a muffled moan coming from inside the large cardboard box.

I suppose this was to be expected. She didn’t know that this was going to be part of the plan. And even though it was definitely a kink she wanted to explore, we were starting to push against the upper limits of real fear and desperation.

I just had a little more work to do before I let her out.

Abduction play is incredibly tricky to pull off. It’s not something that you can just wing and improvise. There’s planning and trying to pick out potential problems.

One of the biggest is always getting your prey from the “hunting grounds” to the “play area.”

First, you need to worry about any well-meaning, civilized person spotting you as you duct-tape up someone’s mouth and wrists, or shove them into a van, or fend off any struggle attempts. A fake kidnapping and a real kidnapping look 100% identical to anyone that doesn’t know the safewords.

Then once they’re wrapped up and in a trunk or the back of a van, you have the problem of getting them somewhere useful.

If I was in my hometown, I’d have access to options: a business that my friend is a security guard at. A dungeon room inside of a fenced-off house. The driveway of this one couple in the hills.

Though all three of those options came at a cost. The currency is usually loaning out things like what I had boxed up, but sometimes I’m not in the mood to share.

When I’m on a business trip, I like to pick hotel rooms to fit my plans. If I’m tying someone up, I’m looking at room pictures for interesting furniture and anchor mounts. If I’m hosting a small orgy, I look for multiple beds and couches. If I’m inviting strangers to come and watch me fuck an exhibitionist, I need a bed that’s in the center of a large room with lots of seating.

Planning CNC scenes means I look for a cheap, seedy room. Motels are good options, as the moans of professional whores two doors down make for good camouflage for the desperate screams of my fucktoy.

But still, getting the fucktoy from the parking lot to the room was the main puzzle. People would notice someone trussed up and over my shoulder. Especially if that someone was a cute, short slut with perky tits, a tight ass and a short skirt.

The Box was my solution.

On the outside, it looked like an ordinary cardboard moving box. I had scribbled in sharpie “CONVENTION GEAR” on the outside, and had a whole spiel about how I needed to fix something for my company’s booth at a trade show if anyone asked me what’s in the box. No one was ever going to ask me, but I like having a story ready.

Inside the box was a reinforced wooden frame, sanded down to prevent splinters, and strong enough to prevent brats from making it obvious there was a human in the box.

It was heavy, given that it was filled with wood and slut, so I had the hand truck ready. It looked perfectly normal when I tossed a couple duffel bags on top of it, and rolled all my gear to my room.

Inside the room, I had work to do. If I had gotten in earlier, I would have been able to prep better. But hey, there’s some improvisation that’s needed.

The first step was unplugging the room phone and gathering up all the pens, notepads and room service menus. Anything that might have the motel’s name on it. I put it all on a pile on the bed, then opened up Cassie’s carry-on to dig out her phone. I added my wallet to the pile. Some of it I locked up in the room’s safe, the other bulkier items I hid in a bag in the closet.

Next, I started sorting out my tools. Rolls of duct tape, zip ties, restraints, rope and scissors in different spots. Spanking implements like my paddle, flogger, a ruler, a coat hanger and a hair brush went on the TV stand next to the vibrators, dildos, butt plugs and lube.

I checked the bolts on the spreader bars, then took a length of chain and a couple zip ties into the bathroom.

And on the way back to the bed and the box, I made sure the room’s deadbolt was locked and the “Do Not Disturb” sign was in place.

I put on a pair of black nitrile gloves.

Now.

She was still making noise when I started to open the lid. There was a chance that she was going to be scared and quiet – nope.

Angry.

Bratty.

A fighter.

I could see the defiance in her eyes. I was going to have to change that.

I grabbed her hair and started to lift her.

“Stand up,” I said.

There’s a chance that she was intentionally ignoring me. But there was a much greater chance that her legs simply weren’t working right. Between the bands of duct tape and being forced to stay in that confined space, it was likely that her legs were numb.

That still wasn’t a reason for me to care.

“I said stand up, you little slut.”

I used my free hand to slap her tit. The motion was mostly an excuse to slide that arm under her shoulder and lift her up.

She didn’t stand like someone with functioning legs.

I dragged her over to the bed and threw her. She landed face-down, her skirt awkwardly exposing her ass. Her knees hit around the edge of the mattress, leaving half her legs dangling.

I took a moment to caress her trapped legs. In part to be creepy, but also to feel her body temperature. If her toes were cold, I’d have to unwrap her legs to let the blood flow back in.

Her toes were fine.

I traced my fingertips back up to her asshole, fidgeting around her butt plug.

“Did you enjoy putting this in for me, slut?”

Her response through the duct tape gag was muffled.

“I have to imagine you had it in your bag for the security check,” I said. “You know that the TSA agents know what a butt plug looks like. They all know. They know what a dirty little slut you are.”

There was a moan of protest to this. She loved her shame.

“I can just picture you sneaking into the plane’s bathroom and shoving this inside of you,” I said. “Your cunt was dripping wet, and I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, did I?”

I had to control myself from ripping her fishnets open and fucking her then and there. The anticipation was building for me, too.

Slowing my breathing, I pulled out my phone and started taking pictures of my present.

She was 23 years old. 5-foot-2, maybe C-cup tits? A former dancer. Ballet. Still liked to hike and swim, making for firm legs, and the hint of abs. She was probably in better shape than me, if we were to have a run-off. I wasn’t planning on letting her run this weekend, though.

Instead, I had her beat with brute force. And I planned on cheating. She was never going to be fully untied. We had pre-arranged limits and safewords. She gave me a list of kinks she was curious about, and we discussed options. Abduction kept popping up. CNC. Bondage. Restraints.

But also, surprises. And terror.

It’s not extremely easy to build up trust with someone, then to terrify them.

I had some advantages, though.

First, there was the physical advantages. I can relax my posture and look like a teddy bear of a Dad bod. I’m more or less height-weight proportional, so pictures and videos of me make me look like a normal, sweet, nice guy. And there’s some validity to that. I’m a pillar of my community, a volunteer and a youth coach. People love me.

Those people don’t know that I also happen to enjoy tying up women half my age and forcing them to cum. They don’t know that I know the proper way to choke someone, and they don’t know that I get hard when I spank a woman and call her a slut. But they don’t need to know that.

They don’t need to know the scary side of me. That’s when I stand tall at 6-foot-2, and my face curls into a scowl of malice and creativity. I add a little bit of steel to my voice, and I never have problems mocking and teasing women, letting them know when they’re nothing more than a cumdump.

Cassie here was so trusting, she was stupid. There was a safety net in place – I’m checking in with a friend of hers at set times. That friend is going to get all kinds of pictures of Cassie being tied up and fucked. There will also be live videos sent later.

I have a hunch this friend is her boyfriend. More than likely a short little cuck that knows he can’t do what I can, and is also turned on by this.

I rolled Cassie over onto her back. Her tits were starting to spill out of her tank top. I helped them finish their journey, then gave each of them a kiss.

“You’re such a helpless little slut right now,” I said. “I can do whatever I want to you.”

To punctuate this, I took one of her nipples into my mouth and sucked on it for a couple seconds. I could feel it get larger and harder to my touch. I let her feel my teeth on her skin. There was a muffled protest, she knew it was coming.

There’s nothing like feeling skin crush under your teeth.

And the pain.

She didn’t like it.

Her body reflexly tried to fight me off. It was pathetic. Her legs were trapped together, making for one big, clumsy kick that couldn’t connect.

“Did you just tell me NO, brat?”

There was a flash of fear. Regret. She wanted to fight back more, but also really wished that she hadn’t fought back at all.

If I’m being honest, she had no real correct reaction to me here. I was going to hurt her more regardless of what she did.

I pushed her knees into her chest, folding her in half. It gave me a lovely view of her trimmed bush, shaven pussy and plugged ass, all neatly covered by fishnet tights.

I aimed for her puffy pussy lips with a hard slap. Then again. And again.

She curled inward, trying to absorb the pain.

I dug my fingers into the fishnets and pulled, ripping at the crotch.

There was a whimper of sadness. She knew the risks.

“You do not tell me no,” I growled. “That word does not belong to you. And this cunt-”

I pushed two fingers inside of her, forcing a moan.

“-this cunt does not belong to you.”

It takes some practice to unbuckle your pants with gloves on while fingering a taped-up slut. Don’t be disappointed if you don’t get it right the first time. Because the reward is worth it.

I rubbed my wet fingers over my cock, using her pussy juices as lube. I could have spent more time stretching her out, but I wanted this first fuck to hurt a bit.

“Do you understand, you dumb little slut?”

She started to nod a yes. I pushed as deep as I could, just to see her eyes bulge.

“Are you a good little slut?”

There was a slow mmmm sound from her duct-taped mouth.

“This is what you are, you little fucktoy,” I said. “You belong in a box, only to be brought out for real men to fuck and use.”

Her legs were pushed against my shoulder. Each thrust was pushing the air out of her lungs, and her breasts were bouncing wildly.

I did her a favor and grabbed each tit, squeezing them. She groaned.

“You’re here for me to fuck and cum inside.”

A moan.

“Do you want me to cum inside of you?”

Again, just a moan, but not a yes. Maybe she was thinking of saying no. Maybe she was running low on oxygen.

I spat on her face.

“Answer me, you little slut. Do you want me to cum inside of you?”

Her face was pure ecstasy. She needed it. She nodded her chin vigorously.

I had been edging for days waiting for this to start. The teasing, the sexting, the planning.

I could feel my cock throbbing inside of her, filling her with cum. Rope after rope, spilling into her.

I took a moment to breathe. I wasn’t sure if I had been doing that for the last couple minutes, lost in a sexaul fugue.

“That’s a good little cumdump,” I said.

I pulled the tape off her mouth and let her legs fall back onto the bed. She greedily gasped for as much air as she could. As I pulled my cock out, I chuckled at the stream of jizz falling out of her. That was a lot of fucking cum.

My cock was a mess, too. That was unacceptable.

Grabbing Cassie by her hair, I pushed my dick into her face. There was no hesitation as she started licking me clean.

“Mmmmm,” I groaned. “You’re a good little cocksucker.”

She looked up at me with a smile.

“Thank you Daddy,” she said.

I let her get back to cleaning, and began thinking of more permanent restraints for her.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/yf8mls/the_present_inside_the_box_mf_abduction