Smuty Smut Smut

Abducted- MaleDom!

Again, the male's actions are a bit forced but she's into it, ya know? lolol this one is also a bit kinky but trust me, it's the stereotypical Stockholm syndrome thing but idk just go with it. Btw Xander, I hate you for suggesting this, this was so hard to write. Lolol, get it T_T? I hate myself.

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The sound of a child crying shook me from my focus on keeping my eyes down. My head snapped up and I immediately started walking faster through the crowds of people. I felt like I was being watched so I quickly filtered my way through the other people. I gently but quickly nudged some of them to the side as I repeated "Sorry" and "Excuse me" the entire time. I attracted a few odd looks but they all decided to ignore my antics in the end. Apparently, my follower wasn't quite as lucky. I saw their shadow from the hot 2pm sun in the sky come close, but then fall back and get swept away from my side into the small crowd. 

I began to relax after a few minutes of not noticing anything but I still kept a firm pace until I reached my car. Once I got inside and escaped the cluttered Saturday rush of people on the road and made it home I unlocked my door and slipped inside. Taking off my shoes, I threw my bag/purse onto the couch and dug through it to find my phone. I decided to save my friends the worry and not tell them about the rush of anxiety I faced earlier, instead, I start making coffee/tea to help me calm down the remaining adrenaline. 

I finished making it and began to drink it, feeling better now that I felt safe and had a warm drink in my hands. That is, until I began to hear footsteps on the hardwood floor of my hallway. (dun dun dunnn) I quietly set my mug on the counter and swing my feet slowly from the rung of my stool to gently and silently place them on the ground. My eyes are focused on the ground but they widen as the floorboards slightly creak underneath the small pressure I set upon them. The other footsteps still and then suddenly become louder and make their way towards the kitchen, where I am. I quickly disregard my caution for stealth and accidentally swipe my mug across the counter onto the ground, the sound of it shattering makes me flinch from my already over-the-top nerves bouncing on my veins. I am almost halfway to the back entrance when a stable hand grips my wrist and brings a cloth to my face. I attempt to yell against the attacker's hand but I quickly feel my lids become heavy, I lose my strength and my eyes close. I collapse against his chest, still slightly struggling to get loose.

When I open my eyes again I can only see small fragments of light through what seems to be a black blindfold. I try to move my hands to take it off but they're handcuffed above me. I realize that I'm laying down on a bed of some sort and I immediately begin to cry out for help. I yell louder once I hear a pair of footsteps descending steps near me, getting louder. A door opens and the tears that were threatening to fall finally did in streams going from the corners of my eyes to my hair. I realize my ankles are tied together but I still struggle against them. I call out for whoever opened the door to this room but they don't answer. I instantly become quiet and notice that they're probably just watching me struggle like this. I'm positive that my face was turning slightly red from crying and my embarrassment so I let out a choked sob.

"Who are you?" I cry out desperately, "Please, just let me go, I promise I won't tell anyone about this."

A man, the man who kidnapped me, let out an amused sound (Idk wtf it is, it's like when you think something is kinda funny but not funny for a real laugh so you just like aggressively push out air through your nose? idk)

My heart is pounding in my chest when he begins to walk towards me, tied and chained to a bed. I've realized for a while what this seemed like, it was one of my first thoughts after noticing I was handcuffed; me, wearing what I deemed an adventurously revealing outfit (whatever you would personally feel is a flirty choice of clothes), hands above my head, basically defenseless in this state. I was crying, embarrassed, incredibly anxious, but underneath it all, I was excited. I hear his footsteps come to the right side of the bed. I try to feebly shift over so that he wasn't as close to me, afraid that he might actually be insane because let's face it, what are the odds of a decent, not insane looking guy, with a big dick, being the one that just so happened to kidnap me. Yeah, right. He's probably got 500 pounds of bacon grease on his face and body, no hair on his head, a motherfucking pedo-stach, 61 years old, and has a kink for hot girls 40 years younger than him tied up to beds. Not a pretty picture.