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Message-ID: <31386asstr$994911006@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: tmquin@NS_attglobal.net (Thomas M Quin)
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS}"Christmas Boxes" Pt1 (mmf/f, nc, B and D, Kidnap, S and M)
Date: Thu, 12 Jul 2001 00:10:06 -0400
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*****************************************************************
		STANDARD DISCLAIMER 
 		===================


The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and
has been posted only to an appropriate group on the Internet.  If it
is found in any other place this is not the responsibility of the
author.


The author explicitly prohibits.


1) The posting of this story in an incomplete form.


2) The use of this story in a larger work without his express
permission.


3) The use of this story on any CD, BBS or Website without the
written permission of the author.


This work is copyright TM Quin 1999.


All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to
persons living or dead is purely coincidental.  The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this
story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.


Quin 1999 tmquin@ibm.net
*****************************************************************

				Christmas Boxes By Quin
				====================

Chapter 1 : "Nancy"
===============

It took a couple of days for Weasel to report back and by that stage
we were almost ready to leave Australia. Christmas was rapidly
approaching and though it was a long hot summer in the southern
hemisphere I wanted to be back in the states by the twenty fifth. By
then my plans for Nancy were well advanced and nothing was going to
stop me now. Yes, little Nancy was destined to become the first
"piece"  in my collection.

Weasel had covered all the angles, by the time we were ready he knew
not only all there was to know about Nancy but also details of her
friends and acquaintances. It seemed that Nancy ran with a group of
kids from one of the local projects. Their activities seemed limited
to having wild times and getting drunk. Certainly it was hard to say
what the group believed in, heavy indie rock and grunge style seemed
to be the few things they had in common. It seemed that the little
scene at the gallery had been more a display of antiestablishment chic
than the reflection of a solid political or artistic position.    

It also seemed that Nancy was a forceful little bitch and consequently
found it hard to hang on to boyfriends. Doug, her latest, seemed to be
looking for a way out of their relationship and was already seeing a
girl called Maggie on the side. It seemed that everyone but Nancy knew
what was going on and their entire group was just waiting for the
explosion when she found out. I guessed that if Nancy "disappeared"
Doug for one would be relieved -- of course how to make her disappear
was another question. By day she was a student at a visual arts
college and worked part time as a waitress in a shopping mall tearoom.
At night she was a real party animal, always surrounded by about 20 of
her friends. For a while I thought about breaking into the apartment
she and Doug shared and drugging them while they slept. I liked the
idea, imagining her waking to find herself my prisoner. However the
artist in me rebelled, it simply wasn't dramatic enough. I wanted to
show Nancy the power I had, wanted her to understand how small she was
by comparison and how easy it was for me to get to her anywhere. 

It was then that I had my idea.

We planned and plotted, working out every angle until we were sure we
could handle just about anything. We had decided to snatch Nancy from
the local bar were she and her friends met after work. In the runup to
Christmas the place was packed and we didn't think there would be much
of a problem. In addition to covering our activities the crowds would
also hammer home my message to Nancy --- I could reach her anywhere.

Weasel had spent the past few weeks ---errr--- weaseling his way into
Nancy's little gang. Oh I doubt many of them liked him much, but they
liked his money and his easy access to drugs. In no time he was at the
center of their little circle and able to reap his own brand of
mischief. Nancy, though she knew nothing about Doug and Maggie, had
some instinctive feeling that something was wrong. Weasel played on
that feeling of unease gently spreading his poison between Nancy and
the others. A few days before we made our move he started dropping
hints that he was willing to take Nancy with him when he returned to
the states. He had told the group that he was road boss for a number
of big name rock bands and implied that he lived the high life in LA.
If Nancy came along she could get to mingle with the stars. She seemed
to lap it up, she even seemed willing to sleep with Weasel to get out
of town. By the middle of December we were ready.

My first big shock came when Weasel and Tiny put their heads together
and decided that I shouldn't get involved in the snatch. They said it
was too risky and I suppose they both had visions of their meal ticket
languishing in some Aussie jail cell. I ranted, pouted, bullied,
bribed and threatened but the boyz held firm. In the end I got a
concession. They would allow me to watch the snatch go down, perhaps
even let me gloat over Nancy a little but after that the transport and
storage of my new acquisition would be down to them. Reluctantly I
agreed.

O'Hagen's is an Aussie Irish bar in an unfashionable part of Sidney's
dock district. Why the place was so popular with the young anarch
crowd was a mystery to me but I suspect it had a lot to do with some
of the nearby clubs and gaming houses. We had arrived early so that we
could secure a couple of tables near the door that would be essential
if the plan was to work.  I'd dressed down, a simple leather jacket
and leather pants replaced my usual brocade tail coat and pants. Yes,
sometimes an anachronistic image helps get you some attention --- ask
Prince ---- but a secondary advantage is that without it you look
completely different. No one noticed me at all and the rather nosy
barmaid had accepted the story that we were American sailors waiting
here for a couple of shipmates to get shore leave. Two of my people,
Fetch and Kerry, had accompanied me mainly to quell Tiny's paranoia.
We'd decided that the big man couldn't come with us as he was too
distinctive so  Tiny waited outside in a hired panel truck ready to
rush to the rescue if there was any trouble. Fetch was your typical
roadie, a guy who loved the high life and was willing to do almost
anything to ensure it continued. Big, brutish and heavy he would
provide the muscle if we needed it. Kerry was a cute little brunette
from Brooklyn, the kinda girl who viewed excess as a way of life. She
was here to make sure our little group appeared less threatening and
to help handle Nancy when the time came. It was early but the bar was
already filling. 

Almost on queue Nancy's little gang burst into the room and made a
beeline for the bar. There were so many that at first I couldn't see
her. Finally however the group churned a little and she drifted into
view. Up close she looked even better than she had at the gallery. I
figured she stood
maybe five eight in her socks, a little taller in the high heeled
ankle boots she was wearing, and weighed maybe 70 kilos. Strong and
muscular with a wiry athletic frame she somehow still managed to have
an acceptable bust line. Taking it all in from high heels up past
those wonderful shapely legs and up to her large breasts she was a
knockout. I found I'd developed a woody under the table that just
refused to go away. The fact that if all went well I'd be sampling
that body tonight filled me with a buzz like nothing I'd ever known.
Almost breathless with anticipation I waited for Weasel to make his
move.

He didn't disappoint. A few minutes later he burst in, a huge grin on
his narrow feral features. Immediately he headed to the bar where
Nancy's group welcomed him. In seconds he was telling them the story.
He'd had a good day at the track, a *very* good day! Holding up a big
wad of my money he started to buy drinks, lots and lots of drinks. I
watched him for over an hour as his little band got progressively
drunker. There was so much seed money that even an hour of solid
drinking hadn't made that much of an impression. He deliberately
flashed the wad in Nancy's face and I saw her eyes widen . It was then
I knew we had her.

I watched Weasel work with the admiration that one master shows to an
artist of another discipline. Nancy and her friends got progressively
more drunk and yet Weasel managed to drink very little. The more
greedy members of Nancy's group were now almost paralyzed, though
Nancy herself  seemed less effected. Realizing that the moment we had
been waiting for was fast approaching we subtly rearranged ourselves,
Fetch and Kerry moved onto the spare table, while I continued to sit
were I was, almost as if I didn't know them. Weasel gave me a small
nod of acknowledgment then started his endgame.

Looking around the bar Weasel suddenly "spotted" Fetch and started
waving, shouting something as if he was trying to get Fetch's
attention. Fetch was pretending not to see him and concentrated on
Kerry instead. After a few minutes of fruitless signaling Weasel lent
over to Nancy and pointed in our direction. I watched as Nancy looked
over and checked Fetch out. So far so good. Weasel again tried
unsuccessfully to get Fetch's attention. In the end Weasel stood up
and grabbing Nancy's hand, dragged the girl towards our tables.

"Dave? Hey Dave is that you?" Weasel gasped out.

Nancy seemed a little unsteady on her feet and was giggling a little
as she stood next to Weasel. Her face was flushed with booze and
excitement. Little did she know that her life was about to get a lot
more exciting.

Fetch blinked, "Steve? Steve, you old bastard, what the fuck are you
doing here?"
"Doing groundwork for the Stone's tour next year," Weasel said
modestly.
Fetch frowned, "You still with them? I thought you said you'd walked
after Keith hit you?"
Weasel smiled, "Bastard bought me a new car to apologize didn't he.
New Caddie.... loaded, *and* I get a Ferrari when they play Milan next
summer."

Fetch laughed, "You always were a luck bastard Steve. Hey, meet Kerry,
Kerry, this is Steve.... the second best road boss in rock history!"

"Second?" Weasel asked, "after you I suppose?"

Fetch just gave a broad smile and fished out another big roll of
notes. I could barely suppress my smile as Nancy's eyes bulged again.
I suspect that she had taken Weasel's story with a pinch of salt but
there was no denying the money.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Weasel asked,  "This is Nancy.... she's
coming back to LA with me." Nancy made no attempt to correct "Steve"
though her attention did seem to be spilt  between shaking Kerry's
hand and checking out "Dave's" huge wad of cash.

Fetch started to count  out a few notes, but Weasel stopped him. 

Weasel smiled. "Let me," he said, "I suppose you want a Scotch, what's
the lady having?"

"A slow comfortable screw on the beach?" Kerry asked holding up a
glass.

Weasel's smile quirked, "Maybe later darlin' for now what do you want
to drink?"

The girls giggled and Weasel saw his opportunity. He turned to me,
"Hey pal, is it ok if my girl uses this seat?" He pointed to the spare
chair at my table.

"Sure," I said, "be my guest."
Nancy flashed me a smile of gratitude as she sat down. There was no
hint of recognition on her face, whatever she thought about the great
Magus she didn't recognize me in civvies. Behind her Weasel flashed me
another leering, feral grin then switched his attention back to our
pigeon. 

"What do you want darling?"

Nancy frowned. "I'll have what she's having," she said pointing
towards Kerry, "It sounds like fun."

Weasel smiled, "Ok, two comfortable screws, two whiskeys, should be
easy to remember," and with that he headed towards the bar.

By now my hardon was getting painful and I found it hard to pretend to
ignore Nancy and the others. Nancy was talking mainly to "Dave" asking
questions about "Steve" that at first seemed casual and friendly.
However it soon became obvious that she was checking Weasel's story
out, especially the tales he'd told about his house, income and access
to the famous.

Fetch of course simply confirmed everything Weasel had said and Nancy
seemed to relax. She glanced in Doug's direction to find that he and
Maggie were getting very friendly. It seemed that the free booze had
drowned out their usual caution.  The couple exchanged looks with
Nancy and then the girl turned back towards Fetch and asked another
question. I barely suppressed a smile -- Doug and Nancy's relationship
was over.

A few seconds later Weasel was back with the drinks handing each to
it's owner with a flourish. On queue Kerry challenged Nancy to see
which of the girls could knock the cocktail back in one.
Nancy won, her face flushed with triumph, but it paled by comparison
to the look of triumph that Weasel gave me behind Nancy's back. Now
the fun really started.

In the next few minutes Nancy's speech became increasingly slurred. I
could see the puzzled look on her face as simple sentences became
impossible. About that time she discovered she was having difficulty
moving too. Her eyes widened with terror as she lost control of her
body. Reaching down Weasel twisted her head in my direction so that I
was looking directly into those wild blue-green eyes of hers.

"Hello Nancy," I said, in a warm friendly voice. I smiled and shook
her limp hand as if we'd just been introduced,  "My name is Magus, we
met once before at the gallery?"

I saw her eyes widen with recognition and her lips moved a little but
only a jumbled murmur emerged.

I smiled a Judas smile.  "I see you do remember. Good. Of course you
had a bit of a problem remembering my name back then. As I recall you
thought my name was "talentless bastard" or something?" I paused as if
thinking. "You know Nancy, you and I are going to get to know each
other so intimately over the next few years that I think we should
maybe use little pet names, what do you think?"

Of course she couldn't answer, but those wide eyes of hers spoke
volumes.

I clicked my fingers as if I had just had a wonderful idea. "I know,
you could call me Master and I could call you ...... oh let's
think...... something suitable? How about Slut? Yes, Slut seems to
suit you so perfectly I think we'll use that."
   
Her helpless eyes looked up at me and silently begged. By now my
hardon was so intense I could hardly bare it. Somehow I controlled
myself a little longer.

"Well, I would love to chat," I said smiling, "but my friends want to
take you out of here while you're still drugged. Still we'll have
plenty of time later." Reaching up I wiped a solitary tear from her
cheek then turned away.

Between them Kerry and Weasel pulled Nancy to her feet. I could tell
from the look in her eye that she was kicking and screaming inside but
her drugged body remained quiet and compliant. 

"Stand aside people, I think she's going to be sick." Kerry shouted as
she pulled Nancy towards the door. A "concerned" Weasel held the girl
up, one hand holding her mop of blonde hair forcing her head down. A
path parted and the group went outside, Fetch bringing up the rear
with the ladies bags and coats. I glanced over at the group at the
bar. Weasel had left enough money behind to keep them drinking for the
rest of the night. None of them seemed that concerned about Nancy's
sudden departure, not one of them made a move to follow her outside
and see how she was. Smiling I finished off my drink while I watched
Doug and Maggie getting more friendly. When Doug got home and
discovered that Nancy's stuff was gone he would assume that she'd
finally broken up with him. Certainly I doubt he'd think it odd that
she was missing.

I had just collected my first piece.

 ##############################################

I found myself with an hour or so to kill. The drug we'd used on Nancy
had to be carefully measured. Too much and she would be a zombie for
the next few days, too little and we risked her recovering at in
inopportune moment. In the end we'd given her enough to keep her quiet
for maybe half an hour hardly leaving enough time for us to get her
clear of the bar. It would take nearly an hour before the Boyz were
ready to smuggle her into our hotel. I had been told politely to loose
myself for the next few hours. In the end  I went to see a movie.

I don't even remember what the movie was about, some summer hit that
had been released in the states six months before. Sitting alone in
the darkened theater my mind was filled with images of Nancy and what
my people were doing to her. I knew that a few blocks away from the
bar the van would park in a vacant lot. I could imagine Nancy's weak
struggles as she was stripped and bound. Then Kerry, dressed in
Nancy's clothes and wearing a long blonde wig, would go with Weasel to
Doug's house to remove Nancy's  things and leave the good-bye note I'd
forged. When they were finished they would return to the van and get
Nancy ready for her trip to the hotel.

By then the hotel would be the scene of a huge party, again paid for
by my money. With large numbers of drunken revelers to contend with it
was unlikely that the hotel staff would notice a few of my people
"helping" one of my guests upstairs. Nancy would be dressed in a long
ladies trench coat, her face disguised and gag hidden behind a
lifelike rubber mask I'd fashioned. The thing wouldn't pass a close
examination but with luck no one would get that close. Tightly bound
and muffled by the gag she would be marched upstairs by the Boyz
without anyone being any the wiser.

At least that was the theory. The presence or absence of the police
when I returned to the hotel would prove if the idea would work in
practice.

 After what seemed like an eternity I returned to the hotel. No
police, just the sound of a party in full swing. No one said anything
or challenged me as I headed towards the elevator. Once inside I
punched the button for the penthouse. 

After all the excitement returning "home" was almost an anticlimax.
Fetch was lying stoned on the couch, Kerry and Weasel were getting
friendly at the bar. They smiled when I walked it, Weasel flashed me a
little victory sign and Kerry clipped over in Nancy's ankle boots.

"She's in the bedroom," Kerry giggled, giving me a little peck on the
cheek. "Have fun and Merry Christmas." 

I was stunned, relieved more than anything that it was all over. In a
daze I walked over to the bedroom door and slipped inside.

The room had been decked in Christmas trimmings and streamers. On the
side table near the bed an ice bucket chilled a magnum bottle of
Champaign, two wine flutes placed strategically nearby. There was a
large four poster bed with a canopy, the interior of which was
currently hidden behind thin silk curtains. The far bedside lamp had
been left on shining through the drapes and giving me a shadow show of
the figure that waited for me on the bed.  There, projected on the
curtain, was the shadow of an athletic young woman  kneeling patiently
in the center of the bed. Her back was arched her head thrown back.
She seemed to be hardly moving, just shifting her weight slightly as
she silently awaited my arrival.

Smiling I walked forward, then quickly jerked the first curtain aside.

I was looking at the girl's back as she knelt on the bed. The first
thing I noticed were her arms, it was impossible not to notice. A
wide, red leather collar was fastened around the girl's throat and to
the back of it a couple of broad ribbons had been fastened. The
ribbons went down the woman's back and were then tied to her wrists
pulling her hands up behind her back in a tight hammer lock. Her hands
with their red manicured nails and desperate, questing fingers were
held level with the girl's shoulder blades, a sever position that
looked far from comfortable.  However the person who had bound her
hadn't stopped there. Her forearms, from her wrists to her elbows had
been bound together mummy fashion with a continuous layer of bright
red tape. It looked almost like the girl was praying, except her
wrists were behind her and not in front. Perhaps she was praying for
release? I didn't know. She had stiffened when I moved the curtain but
had made no attempt to turn or struggle harder. That puzzled me and
although I allowed myself a  chance to brush my hand against her hair,
which had been washed, cut and tied with a red bow, I  didn't linger
with the back view.

Stepping to the side I moved the drape back and looked for the first
time at Weasel's masterpiece. Nancy knelt uncomfortably on the bed,
her back arched, her head back and her breasts thrust out in a most
appealing way. The reason for her condition and lack of movement
became clear when I saw the tiny gold ring in her nose. She hadn't
been wearing a ring in the bar but I knew enough about piercing to
know that this was not a recent addition. The ring had been threaded
through an existing hole in her nose then tied to the canopy with a
length of thin strong wire or fishing line. The line was tight forcing
the  girl to keep her head back and her spine arched. Oh, Nancy
*could* move from that position, but only by tearing  her nose apart.
She had elected instead to stay perfectly still. 

Wide eyes full of a mixture of pain and hate glared at me from each
side of her nose. She obviously wanted to tell me what she thought too
but her words didn't make it through the mass of packing in her mouth
and the few noises that finally made it past her taped lips were
hardly likely to disturb anyone. Yes, someone had really gone to town
with that red tape. Not only were the girl's lips sealed but the tape
covered the whole of the bottom of her face from her bulging cheeks to
her chin. Nancy finally voiced her disapproval with a low growling
sound made almost entirely in her throat. I smiled and looked the rest
of her over.

At the front the wide leather collar was augmented with a large silken
bow and a small cardboard tag with the cheery words "Season's
Greetings." for now I ignored it and drank in the rest of Nancy's
beautiful naked body. Her breasts were large but still had a good
shape. The hammer lock had forced them out to good effect. Two more
bows covered each nipple and a small red Christmas ball dangled
invitingly from each breast.  Continuing down I noticed that her cunt
was covered in a G string formed from wide, red silk ribbon and tied
in a pretty bow just below her navel. A small cylindrical imprint on
the tape at crotch level along with a dampness of the ribbon showed
that a vibrator was lodged in the girl's cunt. I was surprised how
little she was moving and from habit checked the vibrator.  Yes, it
was on running low and slow. I figured with that kind of stimulation
she should be squirming like crazy but except for the dampness and the
sweat on her body there seemed no indication of what was happening
inside her. Puzzled I completed my inspection. Yet more of the red
tape had been used on her legs, securing each ankle firmly to it's
thigh, immobilizing her legs while leaving me full unrestricted access
to her cunt. I nodded my appreciation. 

A pair of scissors was waiting on the night stand and  being a nice
guy I used them to cut the nose wire.  Groaning with relief she
straightened, only to flinch again. I'm used to studying human posture
and I can tell a lot about a person by the way they sit or stand. From
the confused messages being radiated by Nancy's helpless body I
figured the problem was somewhere in the upper body. Puzzled I sat on
the bed next to her watching with interest as she flinched again. It
took me a moment to understand, the Christmas balls dangling from her
nipples were not moving as I expected. Grabbing one I took a closer
look. It proved to be much heavier than I expected and I could see
why, at some stage it had been split open and another object ---
probably a lead fishing weight, concealed inside. The balls fastened
to the nipple bows by more of the wire used for the nose line. Looking
closer I realized that both bow and line were fastened to the girl's
nipple via an evil looking clamp. It seemed that the harder the clamp
was pulled the harder the little teeth bit into the soft nipple flesh.
As this was a waterbed almost any movement by the girl would cause the
balls to move and the teeth to bite. It was hardly surprising that the
girl had knelt so still.

"Do you want me to remove these?" I asked, touting one of the balls.

She nodded, so energetically the other ball started to swing. Nancy
winced.

"Kiss my hand," I ordered presenting the back of my hand to her taped
mouth. Despite the pain she leant forwards and touched her taped lips
to the back of my hand. Then she moved again rubbing her cheek against
my hand like a cat. Looking up with large, tear-filled, begging eyes
she moaned into the gag. She really wanted the balls gone so I obliged
her. I think she had expected me to remove the whole clamp, certainly
she seemed disappointed when I only cut the balls free and left the
clamps and bows where they were.

Now it was time for the tag. Reaching up I snatched the small
cardboard label from her collar.

"It says Merry Christmas Magus from the Boyz and Grlz of the Cru, " I
told her. I chuckled, "They shouldn't have.... I was only expecting a
tie!" It seemed so funny that I was forced to laugh again. Nancy of
course said nothing.

Now that the balls were gone her little ass was wiggling in time to
the vibrator. Smiling I let my hands roam her body, exploring each
straining muscle, each taped limb. Helpless and immobile, unable to
even voice her indignation Nancy closed her eyes. I smiled and gently
laid her on her side so that I could work on all of her body.

She was so perfect, so muscular, so perfectly classically proportioned
that I became drunk with her body. I knew then that I would have to
paint her, that she was to become my model as well as my lover and
slave. As my hands continued to roam I took in the details. I noticed
that she had a small cherry birthmark on her back that someone had
tried to hide with body makeup. When I finally relented and removed
the nipple clamps I found the marks that showed that her left nipple
was also pierced as was her naval. All in all she was beautiful, just
ripe for training and there seemed no better time to start.

Slowly I started to suck and lick her tortured nipples, listening to
her faint moans of delight and noticing how rapidly they hardened
under my touch. Smiling I continued while my hand moved down to her
crotch to untie the bow. The  G string had been formed from one long
length of wide silk ribbon. Rather than remove it immediately I pushed
it to one side and reaching into her pussy removed the buzzing
intruder.

Then I started to gently pull the ribbon letting it pull into the damp
folds of her pussy and rub gently against her engorged clit. Very
slowly I continued to pull the ribbon, watching her body writhe as the
silk band gently rubbed against her quim. Soon she was panting, her
body straining against the tape on her limbs as her mouth strained
against the tape of her gag. Low animal sounds emerged from her throat
and her body shook with the first orgasm. A second followed soon
after, just before the last of the ribbon ran out. By now I was more
than ready and started to undress. Nancy's eyes bulged a little when
she saw the size of my erection, I figure Doug and his friends
probably weren't as well equipped. Safe sex demanded that for now a
rubber would have to come between us and she shivered in a strange
combination of fear and excitement as I rolled it on.

Then I grabbed her by the waist and plunged into her tight damp hole.
With her bound thighs rubbing against my sides and a muffled grunting
coming from behind her gag I thrust in harder and harder.  Before long
she was moving with me, clamping down as I thrust in, building her own
sensation. My hands found her nipples and I rolled them in time to the
thrusts. A gagged whimper heralded the start of her orgasm so I
shifted gear, changing my rhythm to deny her completion. She balanced
on the edge for an additional heartbeat, maybe two, before the orgasm
crashed down upon her. I have no doubt that she probably thought it
was an eternity. Her spasms had been the signal my rampant cock had
been waiting for, as a second aftershock orgasm claimed her I unloaded
into the rubber and imagined what it would be like to paint Nancy's
vagina with my cum.

Afterwards I cut her free, rebinding her with the handcuffs Weasel had
left for the purpose. I had intended to ungag her and share the wine
but by the time I returned from the bathroom she was already asleep.
Tomorrow we would use the mask and trench coat to smuggle her from the
hotel to the small airfield where my private jet was waiting. Once we
were back in the states she would have pride of place in my new
collection and her training as my slave could begin. I doubted that it
would be too hard to break her for as we'd fucked I'd seem the look of
excitement and submissive acceptance in her eyes. Behind the tough
exterior little Nancy was a natural submissive, turned on by her own
humiliation. Yes Nancy was one in a million, and I still had four
rooms left to fill.




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