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<pre>
The Sincerest Flattery, Part 1
by 
SD



Scott was fading in and out of consciousness.   Between the fatigue from
the long period he'd been forced to stand and pain from the hours that he
had hung by the wrists, it was neither easy nor particularly sensible to
stay awake, but he struggled to do so.  He supposed he was better off
hanging as he was than standing on the floor of the cell, for he'd become
too fatigued to kick away the rats that scurried around his bare, bound
feet and had been bitten several times; were he still standing he'd have
bled to death.  "Maybe I'm not better off", he thought.  Now his wrists and
arms and shoulders were all screaming.  The steel cuffs locked tightly
around his wrists left little feeling in his hands, but his wrists ached
and the pain was getting progressively worst as the steel ate deeper into
his raw, bleeding wrists.

Three days before he'd been prowling the clubs looking for likely prospects,
just looking for targets, not captures, so he was carrying no weapons or
restraints.  Then he saw her, Renee she said her name was, and reconsidered
his plans.  A petite redhead with a great legs and gorgeous derriere, she
was a stranger in town, stopping over for the night while motoring to
Florida.  She'd be gone tomorrow; no one knew where she was tonight, no one
expected to hear from her for several days.  This was too sweet a target to
pass up.  He excused myself, then snuck out of the club.  It was near
closing time, he thought, she probably wouldn't have time to meet someone
else, and after being dumped she'd probably leave alone and angry, which
meant she'd be distracted, and an easy target.  It had seemed that he was
correct, she came out alone and started walking to her motel, with Scott
trailing her.  She even took a short cut through a dark alley. This was
just too perfect, he thought as he rushed to the alley, which a quick check
revealed to be empty and so quiet that the click of Renee's heels on the
pavement was quite loud.  This is too good to be true, he thought as he
closed in on her.

He was right.

She heard him closing on her, which surprised him, since he'd been coming
up on her quickly but quietly and in his experience they seldom knew he
was behind them until the blow to the kidney took the fight out of them,
which, quickly followed by a punch in the solar plexus, left them too
breathless to speak and too weak to fight.  But she turned to face him,
and he slowed his approach and smiled apologetically.

"Hey, I'm so sorry we got separated.  A friend of mine had too much to
drink and I had to stay with him till the cab came or he'd have tried to
drive home.  I was mortified when they said you'd left", he told her.
Just a little closer, he thought, and I'll be in range to catch her on the
little chin of her heart shaped face.  He could see her head jerking back,
the red curls bouncing, her bright green eyes going blank as she crumpled,
then he'd help his drunken girlfriend to his car and take her home.  Yeah,
he thought, all the way home.

"Oh, I understand", she said.

And then his eyes seemed filled with a thousand lights and his whole body
went into spasms.  As he fell he saw a tall brunette emerge from the shadows,
the stun gun in her hand trailing wires to his chest.  Then the lights
dimmed, and when they came up again Scott was on his side in some kind of
van, his hands cuffed very tightly behind his back, his knees bent back,
his ankles enclosed in padded leather restraints linked by chain to the
handcuffs.  As he awoke he saw Renee's thighs, as she knelt by his head.
"So you're with us again, killer.  Good.  Now open wide", she said, as she
began sliding a dildo into his open mouth.  Too late he tried to close his
mouth, but it was already in, and with some effort she forced it deep into
his mouth and buckled the strap behind his head.  She then checked the wrist
and ankle restraints.  "Just the way you like them, isn't that right,
killer ?  Real tight on the wrists so the hands go numb, loose but secure
on the ankles so the subject can walk, or dance, and so later the feet can
feel the bastinado, right ?", she asked, then slapped his face before
applying a blindfold.  She then rubbed her hand over his crotch, and told
him, "Hold still and be quiet or I'll zap your balls", and the van began to
move.

Scott lost track of how long it drove.  Renee and her associate, Marian was
the name he heard, chatted as they drove, but said nothing that indicated
where they were going or what was going to happen.  How the hell did she
know about his preference in restraints, he wondered.  None of his victims
had talked; most had not even been found.  He was sure the police didn't
know who was responsible for the string of murders and disappearences in
this part of town.  But these bitches seemed to know, a thought that made
him profoundly uncomfortable.

At last the van stopped, and the door was opened and Scott was
unceremoniously pushed out of the van and thudded to the ground.  One of
the women fastened a leash around his neck while the other let some more
slack into his ankle restraints.  Then someone pulled him up by his hair
and he felt a tug on the leash as Renee's voice sang out "Walkies", shortly
followed by the jab of an electric prod into his right buttock, and he
started walking on his knees as quickly as the restraints allowed, which
wasn't fast enough to please Renee, who kept jabbing him with the prod.
"UHHHNGHH", he bellowed through his gag after yet another jab.  "You'll
just have to move faster, dear", she said.  "You certainly moved fast
enough when you were chasing me.  I must say I do admire how someone your
size can pursue so quickly with so little noise.  Of course, with these
high heels everyone can hear me easily, but sometimes" she said as she
tousled Scott's hair, "that works just fine".  Then she jabbed him again.

At last Scott was lead into a room.  "Now, you be quiet", Renee said
just before driving the point of her shoe into his solar plexus, and
he doubled over, gasping, fighting off nausea and struggling to remain
conscious.  As she shut and locked the metal door, Renee remarked to
Marian, "That always quiets them".


Some eternity later, the door opened again.  "There he is, Mistress",
he heard Marian say.  "Any problems picking him up ?" an unfamiliar
woman's voice asked.  "No, he was really easy, he came right to us".
"That's what happens when you let your loins control you.  Well, I
don't have time for him now, but I hate a man who doesn't stand on
his own two feet, so stand him up, and I'll get back to him later.
Oh, and get those clothes off him".  "Yes, mistress".  Then the door
closed again, only to reopen in a few minutes later.  He heard what
sounded like several people in high heels enter the room, then felt
several kicks to the ribs and the kidneys, and while he was between
consciousness and unconsciousness he perceived his restraints being
undone and felt his hands being shackled in front of him, then he was
winched to his feet, though his rubbery legs couldn't hold him and he
hung by his wrists. "Now hold still, or you might get cut, and we don't
want that - yet", a voice said as knives pierced his jacket and cut
it off him, then did the same with his shirt.  His shoes and pants
and the rest of his clothes were quickly stripped off, and several
soft hands explored his chest and buttocks while one person wrapped
her arms around his legs, the feeling of her breasts pressed against
him registering clearly even in his befuddled state, while someone
tied his ankles together.  "No, don't do that", he heard Renee say.
"But it's standard practice to fasten the legs to an "O" ring", an
unknown voice answered.  "I know", Renee said, "but I've something in
mind for him".  Then they left.  Eventually he came around and his legs
got some strength back, and he was able to relieve the strain on his
arms.  Then he waited some more.  It didn't take much testing to
establish that his wrist restraints wouldn't open without a key and
his ankles were expertly bound, and Scott didn't intend to duplicate
the error of captives who wore themselves out struggling against
inescapable bondage.

It wasn't long till the door opened again and he heard a woman walk
up to him.  His blindfold was removed and he say Renee standing before
him, with what looked like a carrying case for a dog on the ground
beside her.  "Nice to see you're awake and aware", she said, as she
ran her fingers across his chest.  "I've admired your work", she said.
"In fact, I wasn't adverse to being caught by you, so long as we could
find where you took me within 24 hours.  The first 24 hours are for
fun, isn't that right ?  Just sex and bondage and some light torture.
Then it starts gets worse, and somewhere between the third and fifth
day she starts to beg for death, which you grant, but only after an
additional 24 hours of torture.  Hmmmmmmm, yes, that first day would
have been fun, but it was too risky a strategy".

"I am such an admirer", Renee said.  "Well, you know what they say about
the sincerest form of flattery, don't you", she said with a broad smile,
and opened the carrying case and raised one end, dumping rats into the
cell.  Renee quickly withdrew to the door, but before leaving she said
"You really must give us that delightful recipe you have, we haven't been
able to duplicate it", then jumped through the door and locked it.

Damned good thing they hadn't, Scott thought as he watched the rats scurry
about the cell.  They didn't seem very hungry, which meant a waiting game
for as long as he could move.  Joyce hadn't been able to move.  She had
begged to die, but when the foul smelling broth of grain and rotten meat
was smeared over her and the rats descended on her, she'd decided she
didn't want to die after all.  He'd used too many rats, she was unconscious
after a few terrible moments.  Renee seemed to have the right number, they
could chew on one for a couple hours before the subject passed out.  This
sort of flattery he could have done without.

End, Part 1.  No more has yet been written.
