The Twist, part 1

He was stark naked in the back of the familiar by now van. Blindfolded, gagged, his hands handcuffed behind his back, as well as his feet. A black hood on his head which made ​​breathing even more difficult than it already was due to anxiety. He was not in this position for the first time. It was several times he paid so far, very handsomely, for virtual kidnapping and the kidnapper was always the same sadist woman. She would not just kidnap him, but would submit him each time into an original and wildly painful torment for several hours, as well. The professionalism was always excellent however. For two years now, she would just do her job, with several doses of pleasure from what he could understand, but they had no other contact apart from that. At first he was afraid that, at some point the whole thing will probably lead to a blackmail for more money. His image of an owner of a large company, would accept a decisive blow if photos in various situations, were leaked. But nothing like that has happened.

The van stopped. He was hearing a pair heels leading the kidnapper from the driver's seat to the side door. The torment would soon begin and the excitement grew. The door opened and he felt her hand grasping his neck, passing a second chain from the collar to the handcuffs on his legs and pulling them firmly together. Another chain passed around the neck. This time the torturess pulled it with force and yelled sharply: "Move!"

He tried to get out of the van, crawling. He managed to stand on his feet, but remained bent. The chain between his legs and neck, did not allow him to stand up. The cuffs around his ankles, did not let him walk fast enough. In fact he was walking slowly, barefoot on gravel from what he could understand.

A strong slap almost throw him down.

-Move, I said! she yelled again

This lasted almost ten minutes and he walked what would be 50 meters he thought. He heard a metal door openning and went down a stair of 16 steps one by one and as slowly as possible since there was no help. He realized he was in a basement. He stopped about 2-3 meters after the stairs. Another slap before she ordered:

-On your knees!

He tried to kneel, but with his ankles tied so close one another, almost fell on his knees feeling a severe pain. He heard her heels going around him and felt a strong kick on his back, dropping him on his head onto the concrete floor causing another sharp pain.

He was chained on the floor in front of her feet. He felt one of the chains unlocking from his neck, passing behind his back and to locking again around his neck, much tighter this time making him lying on his belly with his legs tied as close to the back of the head as possible, and the chain around his throat drowning him while trying to loosen his back which was now tilted almost like a semicircle towards the rear.

He felt a strong kick on his side and heard the heels moving away, climbing the stairs and the door locking behind them.

Where is she going, he wondered. She never left him alone before while he was tied. How long can he stay like this before he suffocates? Panic started overwhelming him. Left in total darkness, wearing a thick hood increasing the difficult to breath, he felt that life was leaving through his breath away.

He remained like this almost an hour, which seemed the hardest hour of his life. He literally had to fight with panic, all alone, since each breath gave him less and less oxygen. He had to fight so as to not panic and faint. And he felt so relieved when he heard the door higher up, unlocking and a pair heels coming down the stairs.

He heard her footsteps to walk slowly around him. He pictured someone perusing this strange and lamentable spectacle into which he was converted. He heard the bottom of a shoe beating twice on the floor, picturing someone facing something with complacency, as if admiring her own creation and thinking about how she can make it better.

She felt her hands pulling the hood from his head and felt it like a balm, giving him the gift of breath. He felt her soft hands untying his eyes. He stayed there looking at her feet in front of his face. Embraced by two black high-heeled sandals and a transparent pantyhose. But these feet were smaller and from what he could see up until thei knees, shorter than his usual torturess.

Another panic. What was this? Who is she? Some collaborator? Another way to make the scenario more stressful? What?

He tried to look up to see her face, but he could not move at all. He could barely move his fingers alone, but they had started getting numb as well. He could do nothing. He was at the absolute mercy of a strange woman.

He eard her walking by his side and remembered the previous kick. Instinctively, he tried to protect himself, to realize once again how restrained he was.

But this time there was no kick. Instead he felt a pressure on the chain that connected his feet with his neck that was reducing his breath all this time. He pictured how she stepped on it with her foot. A chain around his neck, taking away his breath and above it her shoe threatening to finish its work. At first with small trial motions, pressing the chain down and lifting his head slightly higher than it already was.

But after the trial efforts, there came a slow but continuous movement that made ​​him feel her foot pushing the chain all the way down on his back and forbidding his breath completely. He could not move. He could not breathe. And all this due to a small movement of her foot. She lifted her leg and heard his breath. Fast panicked breaths.

She pressed again the chain and the sound of his breathing stopped again. But this time her foot did not lift immediately. She kept it there for a few seconds, thus empowering the awareness of his situation. With a flick of her foot, she could completely stop his breathing and he could not do nothing about it. He could only hope, helpless, at the mercy of her, that with a flick of her foot, she will not take his life.

This was repeated several times. He tried to growl sometimes, but even this was impossible beneath her ​​foot. He started crying and the only sign for it, was his teary eyes. Panic and despair seized him. During the last push, he was not able to hold himself and peed on him out of fear. The urine reached his belly and he felt its warmth, as well as the humiliation of his situation. He felt completely surrendered. He could struggle no more. What is to happen, let it happen.

He heard the heels going a few steps back and a familiar voice saying

-Disgusting!

Disgusting, indeed. He and his disgusting fetishes, that led him here. But that little voice was so familiar. Blurred as he was, it took him several seconds to realize that he knew that voice. His secretary’s voice.

He felt her hands unlocking the chain on his feet heard it getting locked somewhere near him. He moved to see that he was now chained on a wall by his neck like an animal. He turned and indeed he saw the face of his secretarysmiling. He tried to speak but the gag prevented him.

-If I knew that you like being tortured, I would have tormented you much earlier, she said and laughed.

She took a hose coming out from another side of the wall and she doused him for a few minutes. The water was cold and he began to tremble, but he was not sure if he was shaking due to the cold or because of the new panic conquerring him, while the previously likeable petite girl, who did so obediently whatever he was asking of her in the office, now tormenting him without precedent.

When she stopped dousing him, she dropped the hose onto the floor and she walked towards the stairs, saying

- See you around in a while, don’t go anywhere!

He was keep starring at her, so as to receive not a single glimpse back.

He heard her behind him going up the stairs, a switch closing and the lights going off. The door locked behind her.

He stayed all alone, chained, trembling in a dark basement.