Story:The Bathroom KO, chapter 2

The Bathroom KO

Chapter 2

Copyright © 2005 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

What follows is a piece of fiction.  Any similarity to living persons is coincidental.  The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.

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"Hey John, could you pass me that monkey wrench?" I pass Fred the wrench by the tail as I'm being jostled by the pack of wolves passing by. "Bill, could you keep it down in here? These wolves are being really rambunctious. Bill? Bill!" The jostling keeps getting worse . . .

. . . I wake slowly, being bounced around. 'Augh, I hate waking from KOs', I think. My face is planted against a molded plastic floor. Another bounce. I try opening my eyes and meet resistance... and I instantly recognize that tackiness on my face, 'Duct tape'. I can feel the tape wrapped all the way around my head, and I silently thank the universe for the fact I got a high & tight haircut the day before.

I try not to make too much noise, trying to figure out what's going on and where I am, but I let out a grunt when I'm bounced again. The floor slams up against me. 'It sounds like I'm inside something... must be a suburban... Marcus brought the SUV? But his leathers...'

My hands are cuffed behind me, and I'm lying on my side. It feels like the tape is still on my legs. My right arm's gone completely numb, 'Damnit'. I roll onto my chest, to give my arm a chance to wake up. That damned piss gag is still in, and my jaw is aching. 'At least he was kind enough to tuck my cock back in my pants.'

I soon break out of my analytical state and start worrying. I have no idea how long I've been out, where I am, or where we're going. I fight down the nausea welling up in my throat... equal parts queasiness from the chloroform and fear.

The vehicle grinds to a sharp stop and I half roll, half slide forward and slam into something... the back seats, I imagine. My head thumps against the side wall, and I let escape "Augh!" Someone up front speaks, "Oh, you're awake back there? Don't worry, we'll be dealing with you soon enough."

'Ugh, like my head didn't hurt enough from the chloro... now this. Was that Marcus's voice?' I still didn't know how I'd been moved the several hundred feet from the bathroom in the office. Were we still on the corporate campus? 2300 acres isn't exactly small.

The transmission shifts, and I hear the ratcheting of the parking brake engaging. A car door opens and closes, and my nerves start up again. My breathing increases, and I can smell the stale piss on myself from earlier. Another door opens, and I hear some rattling in the front seats, metal scratching metal, and then the door slams shut.

I hear the rear door of the car open up, and a blast of fresh air blows over me. The night air feels cool on my soaked skin. I start to notice an odd smell in the air when I hear a clicking sound in front of me, and Marcus tells me, "Now you're going to behave," and before I can respond at all, I feel the edge of a blade against my face. I freeze...

The knife is slowly, but carefully dragged backwards from my forehead, back behind my ear. I don't think he's cutting... but I'm scared... the whimpering sneaks out through the piss gag. The blade drags down over the duct tape, behind my ear. I feel the sharp bite of the blade pushing up into my ear just behind my jaw line. I inhale quickly, preparing for the worst, when the knife quickly slides up behind my ear with a ripping sound. The blood drains from my face . . .

. . . out of shock and fear. I felt nothing other than the tug of the duct tape as the knife cut through it. I hear a *snikt* as he pulls the knife away from my face. I breathe a sigh of relief... however short-lived.

I feel his right hand grasping the tape behind my ear, and I quickly forced my eyes shut as he ripped the tape off. "Auh!" It felt like my eyelids were being ripped off. My earlier thanks for having my head shaved faded from memory. I blinked briefly, trying to open my eyes despite the tackiness of the tape residue. As I blinked away the blurriness, I heard that click again as I saw Marcus pointing a semi-automatic handgun at my face.

"Now like I said, John. You're going to be a good boy and behave, aren't you?" I nodded slowly. "Now I'm going to give you the keys to your cuffs". He pulls his knife back out, and quickly slices the tape on my ankles and knees, leaving the remnants of the tape attached to my jeans. Stepping back, he tucked the knife away again. "When I give you the keys, you're going to unlock the cuffs, put them down, and /slowly/ climb out of the truck. You can even take off the gag if you want. Nod if you understand."

Seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, I nodded as instructed. Marcus tossed the handcuff keys into the back of the SUV with me, and stepped back about 6 paces. I scooted forward to I could grab the keys off the floor, with my hands cuffed behind my back. Not an easy thing to do, considering my arm was still pretty numb. I managed to get the key with my left hand and work my hands free.

Sitting up, I felt my head clear and caught my first whiff of sea air. I used the time it took me to take off the gag to look around. I caught a glimpse of a wheelbarrow in the middle seats. That explains how he got me into the SUV. The next sight was the sandy beach to go with the ocean air that I was smelling. Which figures... Long Island *is* an island after all. But no landmarks that I could see to suggest where on the island we were.

As instructed, I slowly slid out of the SUV, and Marcus backed up to maintain his distance. As my feet touched the ground, I almost tripped on a shovel sitting on the ground. "Pick it up," he said.

Finally getting my jaw worked loose enough to speak, I opened up with. "What for? And what the fuck are we doing out . . . "

*BANG*

With a quick flick of his wrist, for the second time in 5 minutes he scared what would've been the piss out of me, if I had any left. The bullet went off over the water. I was terrified and clammed up.

"Now you said you'd behave. That shot was so that you know that no one is going to come running if I actually shot you. So don't get any funny ideas. You're going to pick up that shovel, and walk over to that orange flag in the ground over there. And you're going to start digging. We're on what you might call a treasure hunt."

- - - -

An hour of digging later, and my arms were ready to fall off. The shoveling of damp sand had quickly worked circulation back into my arms, only to have them dead from exhaustion from the shoveling. The only words that Marcus spoke were about 30 minutes into the shoveling, when he looked at his watch and said, "Would you get to the bottom of that hole already? I've got a party to get to."

At first, the digging was difficult due to the dry sand flowing back into the hole. Luckily, that was only the first 20 minutes of shoveling. I had to dig the hole wide enough so that the edge of the dry sand wouldn't keep on falling back in. Then I had to keep the hole wide enough for me to work in.

When Marcus finally said "Okay, stop. You're done digging." I had already stopped sweating from dehydration. Marcus tossed me down a bottle of water. "Here, punk, you've earned it. Now toss that shovel up here."

"Thanks," I said, thinking 'yes, thanks your merciful dickishness.' I threw the shovel up out of the hole and quickly downed the lukewarm water. After chugging the water, I spit out between gasps for air, "So where's this treasure you're looking for?"

His response was to toss me another bottle of water. "Here, drink up." I grabbed the bottle out of the air and drank it down fairly quickly. "We'll be starting up again in just a minute."

"Wait a sec, you said we were done shoveling."

"No, I said *you* were done digging."

I looked around and didn't see anything of interest in the hole. Then I noticed I was standing upright in the hole and my chest was just barely level with the outside mound of sand built up around the hole. I had a sudden sinking feeling.

"Come now," Marcus asked, "you have to have seen Creep Show at some point. Get down on your knees and put your hands behind your back."

I stood still for a moment. Weighing the possibilities didn't look good. All I could muster to say was, "You've got to be joking. I *have* seen Creep Show and I'm not going to let you make me drown myself. It doesn't work that way."

"Oh get your head out of your ass, kid. If I'd wanted you dead, you'd be dead already. Not that I wouldn't do it, but why would I want that? It's no fun. Now on your knees while you still have a choice in the matter."

I slowly got down onto my knees. What choice did I have? If I rushed him, he could kill me. I'd never really talked to him at the office, I didn't know squat about him. Playing along with him would be the only way I'd have time to figure a way to get away from him. As I knelt down I asked, "Okay, but what guarantees do I have?"

"None. I know you're not that stupid. Now make sure you kneel nice and upright. We wouldn't want to get your head buried."

He moved around to the edge of the pile and pulled up on what must've been a sheet of plywood. I hadn't noticed it there before as I was shoveling. It made a huge chunk of the sand I had dug out, and perhaps more, flow down into the hole with me. Lifting a second, and then a third buried sheet, I was already buried up to the top of my ass. I wasn't going to jump out of here any time soon.

My heart was still pumping from the heavy lifting I had done and I was really getting tired. With my arms dead from all that digging, I don't know that I would've been able to be much of a match for him, even if I had gotten out. It didn't take him as long to fill in the hole as it took for me to dig it and soon I was buried up to my neck. My arms trapped against my body, no way to gain leverage to pull them out.

The exhaustion started to get to me. Resigned to my situation, I closed my eyes while Marcus was digging. I must have dozed off because I was woken up by Marcus dumping a wheelbarrow full of water on me. I shook my head to clear it, but I was still exhausted. 'Fuck', I thought to myself, 'fuck, fuck, fuck!'

"What the fuck dizh jou put in that water?" I was tired and slurring, but not feeling drunk.

I was answered a minute later, after another barrow-full of water, "Oh, you finally figured that out? That was easy. Just a mild sedative-hypnotic. Rather like ambien, with all the wonderful amnesiac affects. And you drank more than enough to put you to sleep for a while. And your little bath here should help the sand to set up rather nicely."

He was right. The sand had started compacting around me, so he went and got more sand to fill in around me, and build a nice pile behind my head. "Aren't I being nice here? I'm giving you a pillow."

"What tha fuckh do you want with me?" I struggled to remain in control of my faculties.

"Oh come on now, I haven't actually lied to you yet. I came here to find buried treasure. And now you're buried. Don't worry, it's the weekend. You won't be missing any work tomorrow."

"What do you want with me?!" I shouted at him as he walked away to the car.

He came back carrying what looked like a miniature tent, or umbrella. "Oh, that would ruin the surprise. But since you've mostly behaved, I'll set this up... I've got to run off for a few hours, and I don't want you to have trouble with exposure.... or bugs. I'll hopefully be back before the tide comes in."

As he set up the little tent around me, I was plunged into darkness. I screamed until I was hoarse, as I heard the SUV drive away. It wasn't long before I lost the battle with the drugs and my exhaustion as I quietly, but quickly, sobbed myself to sleep. I was truly fucked.