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Kaye Lucia was one of the richest women to have ever lived, and she had not, for a single day in her life, done anything to earn it.
However, she didn’t feel like that was the worst thing in the world. People were so down on rich people these days, especially rich girls who looked like her. It used to be hip to be rich, where if you did anything good at all they put it all over the front page. But Kaye had volunteered a whole five hours for National Honor Society last year before she had graduated (they had put together cardboard donation boxes in a little windowless room) and wouldn’t you know it? Not a peep.
But life was short, anyway, so why not have fun? She had gotten into the first college she’d applied to, a little liberal arts college right off of the beach. She had the grades for it, but she wouldn’t have been surprised if she had been photo-shopped into a couple of boats, too – her parents had some serious helicopter tendencies and called her things like “their greatest treasure” even though, like, seriously, the mansion in Malibu probably was, or maybe one of the yachts. She had come along after both of those, the Luciana and the Pippa; they were her older sisters.
Kaye had her new phone raised up to her ear, and she was talking to one of her friends – Mitzi, who was going to the Hamptons for the weekend and was trying to convince Kaye to go along. Kaye didn’t really feel like going, though – it was too much effort, plus she would have to convince her parents to let her borrow the private jet, and they would give her such a lecture.
She was so drawn into her conversation that she didn’t even see Mackenzie “Mac” Roberts coming up behind her. Mac was thirty, and she had been working as a kidnapper for ten years.
***
Mac had started out with babies, who were a lot easier to surprise. You only had to distract the parents (something she had gotten good at as a magician in high school). She’d call, she’d threaten, and within the end of the day the little bundle of joy would be back no worse for wear.
After all, even if the parents didn’t pay, what was the baby going to tell? She could just drop them off at a fire-station and all would be well and chalked up to custody battles or distraught women who wanted to be mothers.
But after a while, she couldn’t anymore. It wasn’t a moral thing, there just weren’t enough of them. And maybe it was the fact that babies didn’t care; you couldn’t put them on the line for the emotional plea for release. Not only that, but they cost a fortune in formula and Mac was running out of the fraudulent WIC checks she had been printing out for a while now.
So it was time to move on to the big time, and there was no bigger time than the Lucias, the family who had founded (along with the Plotnicks) the Lucia-Plotnick hotel chain.
The girl was thin as a rail – that was the fashion, again, it was so stupid, get rich so you could brag about how you only ate grain all day or ate like you lived in the time of the dinosaurs, Mac never understood any of that.
It did make them easier to pick up. What was that old saying, “light as a feather, stiff as a board”? Back when Mac had bothered to go to school at least once a week, The Craft had been a very popular movie. Mac had never followed trends.
Kaye didn’t seem to see anything at all until Mac was close enough to close her hands around her hips.
She turned, began to say “What…” and was then cut off by Mac hoisting her above her head and making a direct line for the car. She shoved her in the backseat and put the locks on, and began to drive.
***
Kaye was trying to remember every episode of America’s Most Wanted she had ever seen, but all she was able to do was stare ahead and look kind of stupid. What the hell was going on? This woman hadn’t said a word to her so far.
As she tried to catch her breath, she remembered one of the hints on there – they had said to try to pull out the taillights of the car. But that was only if you were in the trunk. What the hell kind of kidnapper was this that they couldn’t even bother to do her the courtesy of sticking her in the trunk?
She reached over and yanked at the door handles, but the woman in the driver’s seat didn’t even turn around before saying, “You know, it’s locked.”
“What do you want from me?” Kaye asked.
“I don’t want anything from you. What I want is from your parents. One million dollars. And you’re just sit tight until I get it.” Mac looked back at the girl behind her. For the first time, she noticed her beauty – slim and curvy, with silky brown hair that looked like it was professionally combed back. For the first time, she was thinking about having some… fun with her hostage while she waited. “Or not quite so tight.” She let out a laugh that made a chill run down Kaye’s spine.
Kaye had to find a way to get out of here. But now, they were pulling up to a house, and they seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.
***
When Kaye awoke, she was tied to a chair, and she was naked. She had never been this exposed before. Her legs were tied, wide, her ankles attached to the legs of the chair and, then, to each other.
She wanted to be haughty, to demand to be released, to break free and make a run for it. But, as her kidnapper entered the room, dressed all in black – but she could see her face, which she knew wasn’t really a good sign – she was reduced to resignation, and some dreaded curiosity.
“What do you want from me?” she asked again, realizing that this clearly wasn’t just a ransom situation anymore. She felt flushed all over, panicky. But it was an excited kind of panicky, going up the lift hill of a roller coaster that she couldn’t get off of. But this would probably neither be safe, nor short, so she should really be thinking of a way to get out of this.
And yet… she turned over in her head another realization, as Mac positioned herself to stretch her tongue out and begin to lap at Kaye’s clit, this was the most excitement she had ever had in her life. Maybe, boredom and lack of struggle had been killing her for the last nineteen years. Either way, her clit was impossibly hard, throbbing and begging for relief. And Mac was teasing her, making each lick slow and torturous.
Kaye shivered; it was all she could do with how tightly she was bound. This woman – for, of course, Kaye didn’t even know her name – could do anything to her that she wanted.
Or that Kaye wanted.
“Aren’t you my pretty thing?” Mac purred. “I can tell you’ve never seen anything like me… You’re quivering. Keep quivering.”
And Kaye was glad, because that was the only thing left that she could do. She quivered as Mac slid a finger into her pussy with no preamble, then joined it with a second and, too quickly, a third.
Kaye wanted to tell her to slow down, but her requests weren’t really going to be honored in this scenario, were they? She was helpless.
And somehow, that made her wetter. She had never been helpless before in her life.
The fourth finger popped in, and she felt every joint of it before the thumb popped in too. Kaye was sure she couldn’t take it, that she would burst apart somehow.
“Please,” Kaye gasped. She wasn’t sure what she was begging for, she was too far gone now.
“You’re going to cum for me, you rich little bitch, and then you’ll always know…”
Kaye normally would have asked, “Know what?” But she was in no place for a retort now, not with Mac’s hand up her cunt and her other finger moving to rub, then flick, then – maddeningly – squeeze her clit.
So all she could do was keep moaning, “Please, please, please…” until something rose up in her and she clamped down on the hand, as if demanding that it stay inside, as if she could walk around all day feeling waves ripple through her. She bit her lip. She was crying out but couldn’t even form words anymore. Everything was too much, too bright.
Mac pulled back her hand, not particularly gently, and Kaye let out a grunt. She felt empty, empty and sore. She wanted to collapse, to recover.
Mac seemed to have other ideas, though.
She raised her hand, the dry one, in a gesture of warning.
“I don’t want to see these legs close for a second.”
Kaye stared at her, wondering how she could even try with her ankles tied like this. She didn’t have long to wonder, though, when Mac’s hand came down upon her cunt.
She didn’t even feel the smacking sound for a second, and she didn’t feel the pain until a second after that. Then, her pussy was throbbing, crying out because she couldn’t – her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
It wasn’t until the second that she found her voice. She cried, sobbed, yelped as Mac’s hand came down again and again.
Then, her clit was throbbing again, she was cresting again, and she was begging again, unable to form words but pleading just the same.
Surely, now, she would be able to rest. Mac would go call her parents – ugh, she did NOT want to think about her parents right now – and then she would go home, and she would never think about this again.
Well, maybe sometimes. At night. When no one would know.
She slumped. Her legs hurt. Her arms hurt.
“How much do… you think you’ll get for me?” Kaye whispered.
At that, Mac’s eyes seemed to glimmer. She bent down again and began to lap at her clit, again. This time, Kaye cried openly.
Mac paused only to say, “There are some things more important than money.” She nibbled at the girl’s clit, now. “Maybe I won’t give you back at all… Maybe I’ll just keep you here and use you forever.”
Kaye tried to close her eyes, tried to drift off. Surely she must pass out, soon. Surely she must not have anything left in her.
But she didn’t pass out, and she didn’t collapse. She rose again, and fell again, and steadied herself as best as she could. Maybe, for the rest of her life.