Cabin Fever part 1
Written by David North
It had been the perfect hideout from the law. Tucked away in the forest in the mountains above Denver, I hadn't seen a living soul for the past four days. Even so, it wasn't a good idea to stay in one place too long, and I was thinking of moving on. Besides, I'd already finished the meager offerings in the pantry - a few cans of tuna and baked beans - and I needed food.
I was just minutes away from leaving when I heard the drone of an engine, and peeking through the front window, I saw a gray Subaru coming up the access road. "Fuck," I muttered as I ducked back out of sight. What timing: the owners, if it was the owners, showing up now.
Peering cautiously out the window, I watched the car draw up. Two girls climbed out, one blonde, the other brunette, both in their early twenties. They were both wearing tight jeans, and I felt a sudden reaction in my cock. Why did they have to be wearing tight jeans?
I grabbed my 357, ducked behind the door, and waited, holding my breath. Their chattering voices reached me as they climbed onto the stoop, their footsteps sounding on the wooden boards. A key jiggled in the lock and tried to turn.
"It's already open," said one of the girls.
"So, you think everything's okay?" the other wanted to know.
"Probably just Dad forgot to lock up last time. I swear he's losing it."
They both giggled, then the second voice said, "Come on, let's go in. I need to pee."
The door swung inward and they came in, carrying brown paper bags with groceries. The second one to enter - the brunette - grabbed the edge of the door and went to close it, then saw me and shrieked of fright, dropping her bag of groceries. The blonde turned wide eyes on me, her mouth opening in surprise.
I raised the .357 and said, "Stay right where you are, and don't scream."
"Who--?" the blonde began, leaving the rest of the question unasked as her eyes focused on the muzzle of the gun.
"Oh my God!" the brunette squealed and took a step toward the still-open door.
"I said stay still!" I shouted, frightening her into immobility. She raised her hands as if I might actually shoot her. If she only knew -- if both of them only knew -- I'd loosed off the last round more than a week ago. The gun was empty, but they were too scared to notice.
I pushed the door shut, then stood looking the pair of them over. The brunette was wearing some running shoes, but the blonde was actually wearing two-inch heels. Out here in the woods? My eyes traveled up her legs, along her curvy thighs and hips and on up to her breasts, rounded bumps beneath a thin white sweater. Her nipples were standing erect, making it perfectly obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra. The brunette was dressed in one of those tube tops, maroon colored. She was clearly braless too.
I wanted them both, and could feel myself stirring at the thought of tying them both to the bed and screwing them until their eyes popped out of their heads, but I knew it was a bad idea. If I got caught now, for ripping off the payroll from a less-than-honest small business in Denver, I'd maybe get a couple of years, but if I raped these two, I'd be looking at ten. It wasn't worth it.
"What-what do you want?" the blonde asked, still standing there nursing her bag of groceries.
Yeah, what did I want? I made myself concentrate on the situation at hand. "This your cabin?" I asked her.
"My p-parents own it," she said.
"Then you know where things are, right?" She nodded. "Is there any rope?"
She considered for a few seconds, then nodded with obvious reluctance. "In-in the shed."
"Right. Go get it," I ordered her, "and don't do anything stupid like running off, or your little friend here gets a slug between the eyes."
She nodded, and moved cautiously to the table in the tiny kitchen to set down the bag. I grabbed hold of the brunette by her hair and held the gun to the side of her head. She let out a started gasp, and her legs jerked. "Oh God," she whispered, swallowing hard before she added, "I need to pee. Please let me pee."
"Shut up," I told her, pushing the muzzle of the gun harder against her head.
"Don't hurt her," the blonde spoke up as she moved toward the door. "I'll come right back. I promise."
"See that you do," I growled, treating her to what I knew was a cold stare - I'd practiced long enough to know when I was doing it.
As the brunette and I waited for her friend to come back, I asked her, "What's your name?"
"Deborah," she told me in a quiet voice that quivered on the last syllable.
"Well, Deborah. Mind if I call you Debbie?" She didn't answer, so I pressed the muzzle against her cheek. "This is how it's going to work. I ask a question and you give me an answer. Go it?"
She let out a little whimper as she nodded briskly.
"So?" I prompted.
"Deb-Debbie's fine."
"Good. See, now we're getting along."
The blonde was coming up the steps leading onto the stoop. "What's her name?"
"S-Sarah."
Sarah entered with a long coil of rope about the thickness of my pinkie. It would do just fine. "Thank you, Sarah," I said as she stood in the doorway with it in her right hand. She looked surprised at my use of her name, and flicked a glance at her friend. "Now, be a good girl and close the door. Then use that key you've got in your pocket to lock it."
She dropped the rope onto the floor, locked the door as instructed, then stood waiting for me to say something more. I pushed the brunette -- Debbie -- toward her. "Okay. I want each of you to grab a chair from the kitchen and carry it into the bunk room."
"Oh God," Debbie moaned softly, crossing her legs and bending forward a little.
"Just do as he says," Sarah told her, and raising her hands, led the way to the tiny kitchen and picked up one of the wooden, straight-back chairs. Debbie followed her example, and while I had them both at a safe distance, I picked up the coil of rope. "Stand over there," I directed them toward a corner of the little kitchen, as I opened the cutlery drawer and withdrew a carving knife for slicing the rope into manageable lengths. Just as I was closing the drawer, I remembered seeing duct tape in the cabinet beneath the sink. Better still. Keeping my eyes fixed on the pair of them, and training the gun in their direction, I groped for the roll of tape.
Unable to find it, I glanced into the cupboard and spotted the silver roll near the back. In that moment of inattention, Sarah threw her chair at me and made a dash for the door, shouting, "Deb. Come on! Run!" As Debbie tried to follow, I grabbed her ankle and brought her down heavily on the wooden floor. She grunted as the impact knocked the wind out of her.
Sarah was already turning the door key in the lock when I said, "Open that door, and she's dead."
Sarah stopped what she was doing and turned to face me. Seeing that I had her friend by the ankle, the gun pointing at the girl's crotch, Sarah raised her hands and returned to the kitchen. I rose, and as soon as she was close enough I slammed the gun against the side of Sarah's head, sending her into the wooden wall and down onto the floor in a heap.
"Right," I barked angrily to Debbie. "You can carry the chairs into the back room, then you can carry her."
"Okay," Debbie squealed, scrabbling over to her fallen friend and inspecting her to see if she was still alive.
"Now!" I shouted, sounding seriously pissed off.
In panic, Debbie stood up and seized Sarah under the arms, then with considerable effort, dragged her into the bunk room at the back of the cabin. "Now bring the chairs," I ordered. Debbie didn't argue. She didn't even look at me. She took small, mincing steps as she followed my instructions, clearly fighting with her uncomfortable bladder.
When she arrived with the first chair, I told her to stand it against the post supporting the corner of the bunk beds. "Lift Sarah onto the chair, then start cutting the rope up into five-foot lengths. And don't try anything stupid with the knife, unless you think you can move faster than a bullet."
Debbie struggled for several minutes to get her unconscious friend seated on the chair. When she had cut off four lengths of rope, I said, "That'll do. Now tie Sarah's ankles to the chair legs." Wincing, she knelt down and began wrapping rope around her friend's right ankle, and was just about to pass it around the chair leg underneath the horizontal strut when I ordered, "Pass it over the top."
Debbie closed her eyes from a moment, then complied, tying off the rope on the chair leg. She repeated this exercise with Sarah's left leg, then, still kneeling, looked up and me and waited for further instructions, rocking slightly as her expression became pained. "I have to pee," she informed me again, her hands straying towards her groin.
"Sit on the other chair and put your hands behind you," I told her, ignoring her request.
She grimaced, and bent her right knee. "Please let me go to the bathroom before you tie me up. I really need to go."
"Sit down!" I ordered sharply.
"Please," she moaned as she sat on the chair and put her arms behind the chair back.
I circled round behind her, saying, "I'm going to keep the gun close, so if you try to bolt for it before I've taped your hands, I will shoot you."
She nodded to show that she understood, and sat staring straight ahead as I knelt down and placed the gun on the floor. I then pulled the end of the duct tape away from the roll and began winding it around her wrists. "Put your palms together and touch your finger tips," I said, "as if you're praying."
"Why?" she asked plaintively. I glanced up and saw that her body was moving in small jerks, and leaning a little to the side, I could see that she had her legs crossed and was tapping her heel on the floor.
"Just do it!" I snapped, and once again she complied.
I wound the tape all the way down until it encased her fingers, effectively immobilizing her hands completely. That would stop her fiddling with the ropes or the tape and getting free.
I then stood and went to retrieve the remaining two lengths of rope Debbie had cut for me, then secured her ankles to the legs of her chair. Using a longer piece of rope, I tied it around her body and arms, pinning it to the chair back so that she had very little scope for movement.
When I was finished with her, I turned my attention to the still-unconscious Sarah and taped her hands in the same way, only behind the corner post of the bunk beds, just to make sure she and Debbie couldn't position themselves back-to-back and attempt to free one another -- not that it would be easy with their fingers taped up, but there was no point in taking chances. Finally, I tied rope around Sarah's body and the chair back, which served to keep her upright while unconscious.
She was stirring by the time I finished binding her. I waited, peripherally conscious of Debbie fidgeting on her chair by pulling her knees together against the ropes holding her legs apart. I knew her bladder had to be full, and just the thought of keeping her tied up and unable to get to the bathroom was distracting me... turning me on.
Sarah slowly raised her head. She looked dazedly up at me, squinting as if she were having trouble focusing. "Oooohhh," she groaned and wrinkled her brow.
"Headache?" I asked her.
She nodded slowly, then grimaced as if even this act caused her pain.
I went through to the little bathroom, opened the wall cabinet and found some aspirin. I took out three, filled a glass with water and returned to the bunk room. I held the tablets out on the edge of my fingers, and seeing what they were, Sarah opened her mouth and let me tip them in. I then offered her the water, and slowly she tipped her head back and took a few sips.
"Drink it all," I said.
She shook her head, again slowly. "No," she replied. "I need to pee."
"I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. Drink it."
Sarah eyed the glass with a miserable expression, then opened her mouth and let me tip the water into her. My penis stirred again as she drank. I was going to enjoy keeping these girls prisoner and making them hold their pee.
Then it occurred to me that there was nothing to stop them simply urinating in their panties and jeans if they grew too uncomfortable. I needed to give them some incentive to hold on. An idea occurred. "Okay," I announced when Sarah had drained the glass, making my voice sound stern and threatening. "I don't want any peeing back here. I don't want to have to breathe in that stench."
"Then let us use the bathroom." It was Debbie who spoke.
"I've only just tied you both up. I'm not going to take all that rope off again now. You'll just have to hold it."
"But you knew I needed to pee before you tied me up," she complained, rocking her body in sharp little jerks. She let out a frustrated gasp. "Please, I have to go!"
"Consider yourself lucky I didn't just shoot you. If I had, I wouldn't have had to worry about what to do with you."
Debbie opened her mouth as if to protest again, then closed it without saying anything more. She swallowed as she looked across at Sarah who now sat with her head tipped back and leaning against the post, her eyes closed as she waited for the three aspirins to take effect.
My gaze traveled over Sarah's slim body, noting the muscular curve of her thighs through her snug-fitting jeans, and the curve of her bra-less breasts under her thin sweater. I wanted to stroke those erect nipples; I wanted to kiss her and grope her between her legs.
I might have done it had I not caught the sound of an engine just then. I glanced involuntarily towards the room's only door, even though I couldn't see anything from where I stood. Realizing that someone must be out there, Debbie began screaming: "Help! Help us! In here! He's got us prisoner!"
I snatched up the roll of duct tape, tore of a six-inch-long strip and pressed it over the girl's mouth. I tore off a second strip and gagged Sarah too, before she pulled herself together enough to start calling out. "Keep still, and quiet," I ordered them savagely. "If you attract attention, I will kill you before they can get to me. Understand?"
Both of them just stared at me, Sarah with obvious defiance. It seemed I still needed to make clear just who was in charge of the situation.
I moved around the periphery of the cabin's main room until I could peek through the front window again. The car I'd heard was retreating back along the access road, the driver presumably having taken a wrong turn. I exhaled a sigh of relief, watching until the car had completely vanished from view.
I was about to go in search of the keys Sarah had used when I realized they were hanging in the lock. I withdrew the cabin door key from the slot and went to the car. I got in, adjusted the seat and started the engine, then drove the vehicle around to the back of the cabin out of view of the road. If anybody else happened to come up here, I wanted the place to look empty, offering them no reason to come knocking on the door.
Back inside, I sat down in the main room to take stock. I'd been about to leave, unwilling to push my luck too far, and then things had changed. I now had two girls tied up and gagged in the back room. I could just leave them like that, but if they couldn't free themselves and no one came looking for them for a while, they might starve to death. Thief I might be, and not above a bit of necessary violence to get what I want, but I'm no murderer.
I had to come up with a new plan. Maybe I could use their car to get away from the area, putting them in the trunk and taking them with me. It was a possibility, but others might present themselves in a while. I had to calm down, not rush things. In the meantime, I was hungry.
I picked up the fallen sack of groceries and put it with its partner on the table. The girls had brought bread and milk, juice, salad, low fat cheese, and some cookies. They had also brought a six-pack of Diet Pepsi, and seating myself on one of the two remaining kitchen chairs, I pulled the tab off one of the cans and drank it down gratefully. After days of living on brackish water, it was a welcome change.
Try as I might to work out a plan of action, I couldn't concentrate. My mind kept straying to the two girls, to the fact that they were back there, helpless and in need of the bathroom. I'd threatened them to prevent them peeing themselves unnecessarily, and they had to be so uncomfortable. So why was I out here, alone, not witnessing their struggles? This was crazy.
I got up and took several steps toward the door to the bunk room, then stopped, glancing back at the cans of Pepsi. I changed course and went to the cupboard above the microwave oven, and after a little rummaging, turned up several straws from past drink purchases that were still in a plastic sheath. I peeled off the sheaths, opened two cans of Pepsi, and inserted a straw into each. Then I returned to the back room.
"Hello, girls," I said as I entered. They both made mmmphing sounds through their gags, squirming on their chairs. Debbie in particular was rocking and straining against the ropes around her body. I would start with her. "You must be thirsty, Debbie, so I've brought you something to drink."
She stared wide-eyed at the can of soda and shook her head. I peeled the tape from her mouth, and she gasped as the adhesive surface parted from her skin. "I have to pee!" she yelled at me. "Get these fucking ropes off and let me go to the bathroom."
"Now, now. No more bad language," I said, knowing this would incense her.
"Fuck you!" she retorted.
Feigning annoyance, I grabbed her hair and pulled it hard enough to stop her moving. I wasn't annoyed, however; I was getting off on making her really desperate to piss while at the same time forbidding her to release her pee.
"I said, no more swearing. Now, drink this, before you really piss me off."
"No," she said, her tone suddenly pleading rather than challenging. "I'm almost peeing my pants. If you make me drink that, I'll wet."
"No," I said firmly. "You're going to drink this and not pee. If you let it go and stink the room up, I'm going to hurt you. Badly. Understand?"
"But I can't hold it!" she squealed. "I'm really, really full and I've got to let it go."
"No, you can't let it go," I reiterated. "You'd better hold it in or else..."
Debbie began sobbing, tears spilling down her cheeks as she said, "Please, I can't... I can't."
I held the end of the straw to her lips and waited. She gave me a pleading look as if to say don't, then parted her lips. I inserted the end of the straw and held the can in place. "Now drink."
She sucked and the soda climbed up the interior of the straw. As it passed into her mouth, she squirmed and whimpered, straining against the ropes binding her ankles to the chair legs in order to press her knees together.
She stopped drinking, and I said, "Carry on. Drink it all."
"Please, noooo. I can't. I'm going to pee myself."
"Drink, and keep holding it," I instructed.
Behind me I could hear Sarah's chair creaking, and glancing round, I found her fighting to get her hands free behind the corner post. I had wound so much duct tape around them, however, that her struggles were futile. "Don't worry," I told her. "Your turn's coming." She made a sound through her gag which might have been a protest, but it was unintelligible.
I turned back to face Debbie, who was still obediently drinking down the soda. The lightness of the can told me that she had nearly finished. I contemplated making her drink the other can too, then getting two more for Sarah, but then I decided to let Debbie stew in her own juices for a while.
"Good girl," I said as I withdrew the straw from her mouth.
"Okay, I drank it, now let me go to the bathroom," she demanded.
"Not yet," I replied. "You'll have to--?"
"You promised I could go if I drank it!" she interrupted.
"Actually, I didn't."
"You have to let me go!" she persisted. "I'm bursting. I'm really, really bursting!"
"Just hold it," I ordered, my voice stern again. I retrieved the roll of duct tape and peeled off another strip to cover her mouth again.
"Oh God! I can't hold it," she said as she writhed frantically, trying to pull free, trying to gain access to the bathroom. "P-please! You have to let me go! You have to let--!"
I positioned the tape and pressed it firmly against her mouth. She shook and mmmphed as I turned away and directed my attention to Sarah.
As I peeled off Sarah's gag, she was calmer, although her voice was tense with the strain of dealing with her uncomfortable bladder. "Why are you doing this?" she wanted to know. "Why torture us? You can just take the car and go. Take our money. All of it. Just let us go."
While she was making her case, I popped open the can and inserted the straw, then lifted it towards her mouth. "Time to drink up," I told her.
"I'm not drinking that," she answered defiantly, "not until you let me use the bathroom."
"Oh yes, you are, Sarah," I informed her. I put my free hand on her trembling left knee and slid my fingers up the inside of her thigh. She watched the progress of my fingers, and seemed about to say something as they closed in on her crotch. She tried to press her legs together to stop me, but she couldn't apply sufficient force. I was there, feeling her through her jeans and panties. "You wouldn't want me to insert anything unpleasant in here, would you?" I asked her. She stared back at me in alarm, her breathing suddenly faster.
"I have to pee," she said between breaths. "We both do. You have to let us use the bathroom."
"I don't have to do anything."
"But why? Why do this to us?"
"Because... I like it," I said.
I saw her mouth start to form a word, perhaps bastard, but she apparently thought better of it and remained silent. I proffered the end of the straw once more, and after compressing her lips for a few moments, she leaned her head forward and took hold of the straw between her teeth, sucking on it and drawing up the soda into her mouth. She drank noisily, while I kept my hand pressing against her crotch. Her legs were shaking as she consumed the fizzy liquid, and as I watched, I saw her abdomen draw in. She was fighting to control her urge to pee which had to be terrible at that moment.
She emptied the can in less than a minute. I removed the straw and stood up, taking my hand away from her legs. "Right, now I'm going to ask you some questions, and I want some straight answers."
"I have to pee," Sarah answered at once. "I have to pee now!"
"You can't."
"I have to."
"Answer my questions, then I'll consider letting you go the bathroom."
She released a strained grunt, and like Debbie, she tried to lean forward, but her body was restrained by the ropes holding her against the chair back. She suddenly looked down sharply, leaning her head forward so that she could see her crotch. Following her gaze, I saw a dark spot spreading outward across the denim. "I didn't say you could piss."
Sarah opened her mouth as her expression became strained. She screwed up her eyes, revealing faint crowsfeet around the corners as she battled the flow of pee. She managed to stop going, but not before she had a wet patch the size of a saucer around her groin.
Opening her eyes, she gave me a pained look. "I couldn't hold it all in. I had to let some go."
Behind me, Debbie was making muffled sounds through her gag. Looking across at her, I found her squirming around so hard that the chair legs were lifting from the floor as she rocked herself from side to side. Either she couldn't hold it either, or seeing her friend let some out had made her own desire to pee unbearable. She shook her head as she continued rocking and tugging against her bonds.
I didn't go to her, but watched as she put up a last valiant fight against what she simply had to do. She was about to piss herself, and it was going to be a massively desperate piss. I didn't have to wait long for it to start: with a loud hiss, she started to pee. It soaked through the crotch of her jeans and spread rapidly along her thighs and up towards her hips.
My prick was rock hard now, watching this beautiful brunette piss herself.
"Oh God," Sarah whimpered just before she launched into a long tortured moan. "I can't wait any longer," she gasped.
"Don't you dare piss yourself as well," I said angrily. "I told you that you can't go until you've answered my questions."
"Oooohh, noooo--" she moaned, hanging her head and shaking it so hard that her hair flopped over her face.
The sound of pee forcing its way through denim assailed my ears as Sarah now began to piss with incredible ferocity. I watched the moisture jet down her legs to her knees and spill over the lip of the chair like a waterfall. To go with that much force, her bladder had to have been stretched to capacity.
Sarah started to cry as she wet herself, no doubt afraid of what I would do to the pair of them now. But I had no plans to do anything. I stood up and watched as Sarah finished peeing herself, and when the stream had dropped to a trickle, and then merely drips, I said, "You two have not listened to me. Now I'm going to leave you tied up in here for the rest of the day to teach you a lesson. Then, maybe, I'll bring you some food and something else to drink."
"You fuck," Sarah muttered.
"Ah, thank you for reminding me," I said as I took up the roll of duct tape, tore off a length and flattened it against her lips and cheeks. "There, that's better. No more bad language. And I'll see you later."
In the doorway, I paused to look back at the two pretty girls I had tied up in the bunk room, each sitting on a chair in piss-soaked jeans, unable to move, unable to speak; both helpless prisoners. Suddenly, I didn't want to move on, not for another day at least. There was a lot more fun to be had with these two... a lot more fun.
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