Endless darkness

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

It was a late autumn evening, and I was walking home alone in a dress, heading to catch the Korean drama that was about to start. A gust of wind blew by, and I shivered. Suddenly, I realized I needed to urinate, so I quickened my pace. I was afraid something like this would happen again, so I moved out.

Because it was cold, I wore two layers of stockings—flesh-colored underneath and greyish-black on the outside—paired with pure white cotton socks, a look that could only be described as alluring. When I got home, I went up to the top floor and reached my apartment. Just as I was about to take out my key to open the door, a man suddenly pounced on me from behind. Before I could react, my mouth agape as I tried to scream, a towel was pressed against my mouth and nose. As I struggled, a strong smell of drugs hit me, and gradually, my limbs went numb, and waves of drowsiness washed over me…

The man dragged me into the room next to mine. He was called "that guy," and he had just moved in, but I didn't recognize him. He had been planning to kidnap me for a long time. "So easy to succeed," the man said, looking at me unconscious on the bed, seemingly in disbelief. Sizing up his prey, the man nervously swallowed. This was the neighbor's beautiful girl—fair skin, small, slightly pursed lips, and short, slightly disheveled black hair that accentuated her youth and vitality. A dress hugged her slender figure, her long, shapely legs clad in stockings and white cotton socks, creating an irresistible allure for the man. He felt a momentary dizziness, but quickly regained his composure; it was time to get down to business. He pulled out something he had prepared beforehand from under the bed and began to tie me up. He turned me over, placed my hands together behind my back, and carefully bound them with a soft yet incredibly strong cotton rope. He wrapped it horizontally, around, crossed, and then vertically several times with practiced ease. Once my hands were bound, he tugged on it—perfect, not too tight, but not enough to break me free.

Then, he used a similar method to tightly bind my legs together. Then he helped me up and carefully tied my arms and body together. No matter how much I struggled, I could only twist my body; unless the man untied the ropes, I could never break free. But the man wouldn't let me go; after all, he'd been lusting after me for so long.

Next, the man took out a pair of clean stockings, gently pinched my cheek with one hand, and as my mouth opened unconsciously, he carefully stuffed the stockings into my mouth, sealing it tightly. Then, he took a flesh-colored stocking and tightly covered my mouth with it, tying a knot behind my head to secure it, so I couldn't spit the stockings out. The man then took another stocking and blindfolded me. Then he took out a small bottle of nasal decongestant and made me inhale it to prevent me from suffocating. Finally, the man used a thick, DIY stocking hood to cover my head, making it impossible for me to remove the stockings covering my eyes and mouth. This stocking hood was quite good; it snugly covered my head and neck. Then the man

picked me up and put me into a sleeping bag fixed to the bed, leaving only my head sticking out. This sleeping bag was modified by the man; it was very tight, and the neck opening could be tied with rope, so even if I wasn't tied up, I couldn't get out of the sleeping bag. The man looked at his "masterpiece" with satisfaction and smiled smugly. Then he turned on the TV, tuned it to a 24-hour channel, locked the door, and went out to the suburbs to retrieve something. Because the building was so expensive, few people lived there, and the soundproofing was excellent. The man had also installed soundproofing material in every corner of the room where I was tied up, and even the windows were double-glazed; even if we were fighting in the room, no one would hear us. Soon, I woke up from a very uncomfortable sleep. In the darkness, it seemed I was all alone. My head still throbbed, and it felt like something was covering my mouth and eyes. I suddenly remembered what had just happened and tried to sit up in terror, but found my body completely unresponsive, as if it were glued shut.

I realized I was tied up and began to struggle desperately, but I could only wriggle around in the bed wrapped in my sleeping bag. I tried to scream for help, but only weak "mmm" sounds came from deep in my throat. I couldn't scream, and I couldn't see. I was terrified and desperately tried to break free of my restraints. The feeling on my face was familiar—it was my favorite stockings. But now, I desperately tried to rub them off my face, but no matter how hard I tried, the hood remained firmly in place, and the stockings covering my mouth and eyes were even more impossible to remove. I couldn't help but cry, but the stockings quickly dried up. I felt like a tightly bound rice dumpling. I gradually realized my situation: I was kidnapped, and I didn't know what would happen next, so I could only continue my futile struggle, desperately twisting my body. Gradually, I got tired, and my nose struggled to breathe. Only then did I notice the television, the hourly chime—it was ten o'clock. My despair subsided slightly; after all, this futile effort was just a waste of energy. But just as I was thinking of a solution, I discovered an even more troublesome problem—I needed to pee. I hadn't even had a chance to go home and relax before being tied up. Now I was terrified again. I didn't know how long I would be tied up, and what would happen if I couldn't hold it in. I started struggling again, trying to distract myself, but the urge to pee seemed to be deliberately working against me. The more afraid I was, the more urgent it became; forgetting the urge was impossible.

I deeply regretted that huge cup of milk tea I drank on the street earlier. Now I felt even worse. I was tightly bound, gagged, and blindfolded. I wanted to cry out, but I could only manage soft "mmm" sounds. Facing the increasingly urgent need to urinate, I could only tightly clamp my legs together, even though my beautiful legs were already firmly tied together. I could only wriggle my body with difficulty; I couldn't even sit up. I realized I was wrapped in something and secured to the bed with ropes. So, I used my last bit of strength to try and break the ropes binding me, then I could move, use a doorknob or something to pull off the hood, spit out the stockings in my mouth, and use my teeth to bite a pencil or something to call the police.

I had hope again, but the man wasn't stupid; the sleeping bag was securely fastened and impossible to break free of. I couldn't crawl out of the sleeping bag either, so no matter how much I struggled, it was all in vain. Realizing this, I quickly despaired and could only try to hold back the increasingly urgent need to urinate. I didn't even have the strength to cry anymore. I could only occasionally shift my body with difficulty, trying to find a more comfortable position. Just moments before, I had wanted to break free and escape before my kidnapper returned, but now, in my despair, I hoped he would come back soon, perhaps even letting me use the restroom to ease my discomfort. After enduring this for a long time, the TV struck 11 o'clock again, and I felt I was about to burst.

Just then, I heard the door open, and the man

returned carrying a large box. I anxiously mumbled, and the man pulled me out of my sleeping bag, pounced on me, rubbing his face against my body through my stockings, his hands roaming over my skin. He was a pervert. I was utterly desperate now, only able to futilely try to avoid his groping hands. The man's gaze swept over my entire body, and when it lingered on my slender legs, which were pressed together and rubbing against each other, he understood what I wanted to say. So he leaned close to my ear and said: "Want to pee?" "I'll let you go as long as you're obedient." I nodded frantically. The man lifted my skirt, reached for his underwear and stockings (I like to wear my underwear over my stockings), and grinned slyly, "Your outfit really excites me." The man untied the rope binding my knees, then removed my underwear and two layers of stockings. He picked me up and placed me on the toilet, spreading my legs wide. He positioned his penis against the toilet bowl and said softly, "We're here. You can relax now." My upper body trembled, and I kept making "mmm" sounds, clearly ashamed of the position. However... however, the physical pressure eventually overcame my reason, and a clear liquid gushed out...

The man carried me back to the bed, straightened my clothes, and "locked" me back into the sleeping bag. Through the hood, the man couldn't see my expression, only hear my heavy breathing, which sounded like I was sobbing. The man put on an Arabic mask, completely concealing his face. His fingers roamed over my neck, then he removed the hood and blindfold. My eyes were filled with sadness and fear, and the tear stains at the corners of my eyes, combined with my tightly sealed mouth, only deepened the feeling of my pitiful state.

"If you promise not to scream, I can help you remove the thing from your mouth, how about it? Do you want to be gagged like this forever?" "Mmm...mmm..." I nodded vigorously. "Please let me go, don't hurt me, I won't tell the police, just let me go..." "Mmm..." My mouth was gagged again. "I like tying up beautiful women, seeing them like this makes me feel good and comfortable. As long as you obey, I won't hurt you, otherwise..." As he spoke, a switchblade magically appeared in his hand. "I have a bad temper, sometimes I don't know what I'll do when I get excited, so you'd better behave yourself." I nodded in terror. The man re-bandaged my head, turned off the lights and TV, locked the door, and went to sleep in another room. I was once again plunged into endless fear and darkness.
[The End]

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Endless darkness

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