Kidnapped! (11 page)

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Authors: John Savage

BOOK: Kidnapped!
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Chapter XXIII

The Taking of Susie

 

Raszini walked into the torture room and promptly kicked over a chair.

“Damned bastards!” he shouted. “Damned, fucking bastards!”

“What’s wrong, boss?” asked Marco.

“I don’t know how they did it, but the feds froze my bank account in the Bahamas. I needed those funds!”

“But I thought your guy on the inside would protect you?”

“Damn him, too. If I find out he’s turned on me, I’ll have Angelo break his kneecaps and cut off his prick.”

Marco cringed. He knew his boss would do just that. He’d done it before.

Taking a deep breath, Raszini calmed himself.

“That ain’t your only bank stuff, right boss?” Marco asked.

“Yes, you’re right. I have several other accounts and in countries that will respect privacy.” He closed his eyes and the red glow on his face slowly faded. When he opened them again, he was more his old self.

“Okay, to other matters. Here’s what I want you to do to that bitch. First, bring her in here. Then get those ropes and…”

Susie was dragged out of the closet they had locked her in. Apparently she had been trying to catch up on her missed sleep for her eyes were puffy and she seemed disoriented for a few moments. It had taken hours before all the itching and burning had faded away, leaving her an exhausted women. But when she saw Raszini grinning at her, she awoke and returned his stare with scowl of hatred. Her body was sore from the last harsh treatment, but it looked as if more was on tap. She looked around: two cameras set up on tripods, a dozen coils of rope lying in a pile on the floor, two horrible looking whips next to them, and two henchmen of low intelligence but strong muscles and obedient to their boss standing by, looking eager to resume the torture. Yeah, they planned to hurt her again.

With the handcuffs removed, her arms were grabbed, twisted up behind her and the wrists bound in a crossed position between her shoulder blades. She was pushed down to the floor and her ankles tied, also crossed, like her wrists. While one man held her folded in half, the other wrapped a larger sized rope around and around her body, including her legs and securing her in that folded position. Another length of rope was tied to that wrapping her into a package and then run up to an overhead ring. When they pulled on the rope, Susie was lifted into the air, suspended by that rope around her, and with her body about the height of a man’s hips.

“Get the cameras rolling,” Raszini said as he picked up one of the whips. Susie could see it held in his hand and braced herself. At least, she told herself, my breasts are pressed against my legs so he can’t very well whip them. Of course, my bottom is nicely exposed in this position…

His target was, indeed, her bare ass, sticking out as if asking for attention. He swished the whip a few times through empty air, and then took a position where he could lash out at her ass. Even with the unfortunate girl bracing herself, the first cut of that wicked whip across her flesh sent shockwaves of pain into her. She cried out loudly and jerked wildly. A vivid red line appeared over the fading marks from earlier whippings.

Making sure that he did not block the camera’s views, he proceeded to apply the whip to her bare skin, methodically covering the total area but with a vicious strength that left her sobbing in pain and her ass looking like a battleground. Vicious streaks of swollen flesh crisscrossed her skin. After the first dozen strokes, she could no longer hold it in and her cries turned to honest screams.

Only when very little bare skin was left untouched did Raszini toss aside the whip and stand there, panting from the effort, but smiling evilly.

For a while, nothing else happened and the only sounds in the room were the poor girl’s sobbing. Then the crime boss unzipped his pants, released his erect prick from the cloth confines and approached that battered and sore ass. Grabbing her hips with both hands, he positioned her suspended body just right, and, with a hard jab, shoved his prick up into her cunt.

Susie cried out and her tied feet pumped up and down a little, but there was really nothing else she could do; the tight ropes prevented it. Raszini was not hugely endowed, only average, but as he began a vigorous humping, he was hammering that swollen and very sore flesh just above the opening he was using. That made each stroke painful to Susie, as well as degrading and offensive. She liked a good fuck as much or more than most any healthy young woman, but this was one screwing that she found distasteful, to say the least. Had her vagina teeth, she would have gladly chomped off that invader. Lacking teeth, it could only offer a hot, wet sheath.

It was only a couple minutes before he was grunting and pumping his seed into the hanging girl. When he could squirt no more, he backed off. But he picked up the whip, cut two more swift, hard strokes across her ass, before putting away his limp prick.

“Okay, boys, you can have her,” he told the other two men in the room.

They were grinning as they looked at each other. Apparently it did not bother them to be “sloppy seconds” after their boss. Susie was just too good a fuck to turn up.

The first man proved to have a much more impressive weapon than Raszini and he used it with great vigor, jerking her body with each thrust. Susie endured the humiliation and pain with gritted teeth and closed eyes, silently vowing revenge.

When the second man was finished, the third approached but paused to look at Raszini. “Boss…” he said, “is it okay for me to… you know?”

“Yeah, sure, Marco. I know how you like to do it.”

Marco’s method was not all that usual, just the target. Wetting his fingers with the fluid dripping from her cunt, he smeared his prick and then spread wide her ass cheeks. A moment later there was a loud, surprised squeal as he roughly committed an act of sodomy.

Marco’s attack in that area was much more painful, not only because of the banging against her sore flesh, but also because of his much bigger than average size penis. Susie was no stranger to that form of sex but had never had her rear so feeling that it was going to be torn asunder.

They left the sobbing girl hanging there, her tears wetting the concrete floor beneath her. The cameras were turned off and three satisfied (for the moment) men left the room.

 

 

Chapter XXIV

Rescue Attempt

 

The address she gave me was a small shipping company in the north San Fernando Valley, not far from downtown LA. I was all for rushing right in, but my better side told me it wouldn’t do Susie any good if I walked into a trap and got myself shot. So I forced myself to case the joint.

It was one of those “business parks” as they call them. A dozen or two small businesses clustered together in an otherwise residential area. Unit ten was labeled “Nascosto Shipping” but it didn’t seem to be doing much shipping. The large back doors were closed and the front door was also locked. The lights were off inside.

It was late afternoon and a few of the other businesses hadn’t closed for the day, which made it harder to break in without being seen by someone, but I just had to get inside there. Susie was there, and that was all I could think about. So I picked the front door, watching carefully. I don’t think anyone saw me.

Hurrying through the office area, I entered storage space that took up most of the building. The first thing I noticed is that a goodly part of the area was taken up with an enclosed room. Pulling Wilma from her holster, I thumbed the safety off and stood by the door, listening. There were no sounds from within so, taking a deep breath, I entered in my usual fashion. I kicked down the door.

The room was empty. But it was obviously the place where they had been holding Susie – and torturing her. There were rings in the overhead beams and the walls and a couple ropes lying on the bare floor. There were other signs that this was where they had molested her, but I won’t describe them. Had Raszini and friends been there, I would have torn them apart with my bare hands.

Back in my car, I waited to calm down before I tried to drive. I had thought that my handcuffing Madam Stella and her bodyguard to some of the bondage equipment would have keep them disabled long enough for me to rescue Susie. Apparently they somehow called Raszini and alerted him to my coming. I should have searched them for cell phones. Or shot them both. Dead men don’t make phone calls.

 

* * * * *

 

“Could I please be untied from this bed?”

Angelica was in a much more subdued mood after having been tied to that bed and wearing handcuffs for the better part of two days.

I hadn’t harmed her, and she certainly should have been used to being held captive. That other Italian fellow had her for over a week before I rescued her. But at that point, I wasn’t in a mood to be kind to Raszini’s daughter.

Before I could decide what to do with her, my phone buzzed. Immediately a video began. My hand was trembling as I watched my little sister being whipped again and then sexually assaulted by those bastards. The video ended with a close up of her battered and bruised bottom.

Angelica was startled when I threw the phone against the wall and uttered a few curses that should not be said in front of a woman.

I know it was not her fault, but I grabbed her by the throat and probably would have throttled her had not my better side intervened. At that point, I would have happily tortured her most cruelly if there was some way I could send a video of it to Raszini. Unfortunately communication was one way at this point.

I untied her and let her visit the little prisoner’s room but left the handcuffs on her. I’m not that good at cooking, so I ordered pizza and allowed her to eat at the dining room table with me.

After the meal, she reached over with joined wrists to touch my arm. “I’m sorry about your sister,” she said. “Really. I wish I could do something for you.”

I didn’t trust myself to put the way I felt into words. But I did shake her hand off my arm. Then I took her and tied her ankles overly tightly to the end of the bed. Just as I was about to leave her, she lifted herself up and said, “Will it help if you screw me? You can if you want.”

For the first time in my life, I turned down that offer from a pretty girl.

 

* * * * *

 

“I don’t know. Really.”

Angelica was again denying that she knew where her father might be holding Susie. I was not a happy camper. Susie was still a prisoner of a man who would and had calmly ordered the murder of others. And I was no closer to finding her. I cursed myself for having blown my best chance. If I hadn’t left Madam Stella alive, she would not have been able to call Raszini. And they would not have gotten away before I showed up. Crap!

“What other businesses does your father own?” I asked.

“Only a few, and most of those were raided by the police.”

“Tell me all that you do know.” I had a pad of paper and a pencil, and took notes as she talked. At least she seemed eager to cooperate. If she hadn’t been, I would probably have been torturing her right then.

“And that company in Sylmar. A shipping company, I think.”

“You mean Nascosto Shipping?”

“Yeah, I think that was the name.”

“I’ve been there. She’s not there any more.”

“Well, that’s all I can think of.”

“Would your memory improve if I held a cigarette lighter under your feet?”

The threat didn’t faze her, I guess because she somehow sensed that I didn’t really have my heart in it. Torturing women isn’t really my style.

“Okay, any other houses? Vacation homes? That sort of thing?”

“No. We usually stayed at hotels. Or a friend’s place.”

“Friend’s place? Is there one of these places in Southern California?”

“Well…” She looked up at the ceiling as she thought. “There’s Rico’s, but I don’t think he would let dad use his house. They were business partners but not the best of friends. Right now, dad’s old colleagues don’t want any part of him.” She frowned, and I wondered if I had tied her ankles too tightly to the end of the bed. They were a darker shade than normal.

“There’s Carlo Lucarelli, they’re good friends. Dad helped set him up when he came to this country.”

“Where’s his place?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“He’s got a big house overlooking the ocean in San Clemente. I’ve been there once or twice.”

Well, it was worth checking out. I got enough information out of her to find the place (with a little help from the Internet again), and got ready to pay this Lucarelli fellow a visit.

“Mr. Sled, do you have to leave me tied like this?”

Damn, but I have a soft spot in my heart for pretty dames who plead so sweetly, even if they are the daughter of a man I would love to kill. I untied her feet but locked them in handcuffs. It gave her more freedom and was probably more comfortable, but still held her to the bed. I checked the handcuffs on her wrists, and then left her.

The drive down to San Clemente took about two hours. Most of that town is upper class, moderately expensive homes. Anything in California that overlooks the ocean will cost you. And there were a few homes that were a notch or two above the rest. Ex-president Nixon once had a house there. It was named “
Casa Pacifica
” but mostly called
the “Western White House.”

Carlo’s place had a fence around it and a large gate to deter trespassers. I saw no guards, no dogs, or such, but could only see a small corner of the house from the road. It was on a couple acres of wooded land. As I sat in Angelica’s SL500, the sea breeze was ruffling my hair. The sun was directly overhead and the day was hot. Southern California is a semi-arid desert unless you pour lots of water on it to make it green. It wasn’t too comfortable wearing my suit coat but I didn’t want anyone seeing Wilma. A .50 Desert Eagle is a little hard to hide.

I had brought with me a small pouch of tools I often use on a case. Just your basic breaking and entering stuff, wire cutters, bolt clippers, pry bar, etc. It was not too hard to find a place out of sight of the house and with enough trees to hide my alterations to the integrity of the chain link fence. In just a couple minutes, I was creeping up on the house.

There were three cars in the driveway, meaning the place wasn’t empty. I wondered how many people I would have to blow away to get Susie.

 

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