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The following story is a work of FICTION. It contains scenes of an adult nature, so if you are UNDER 18 years STOP reading now. This story contains explicit sexual language and fantasies involving the mental and physical control of others. If you are offended by such activities, do not read any further. This is purely fantasy! I’ve absolutely a loathing of hurting other people in real life. It’s despicable. Resemblances to any person - living or dead - is purely coincidental. It’s inspired mainly by two stories in the www: “A Year Of Slavery” and “The Breaking Of Dan Newman”. So if you find any parallels, it is intended to be.
© 2006 - 2008
The Different Business Trip
Carl Petersen was a business man who worked successfully for a medium-sized oil company. His main area of responsibility was in Saudi Arabia and so he often travelled into the Middle East. One day, it was at the beginning of his annual vacation, two large men in dark suits rang at the door of his apartment. They showed him two cards and said that the ‘Department Of Homeland Security’ had some questions and therefore he should come with them. Carl hesitated. After they affirmed that it won’t last too long and they would bring him back home right after the questioning he went with them. Carl wondered what they wanted from him but as a patriot he got his jacket.
The men went to a black Mercedes limousine. One guy opened the back door and Carl sat down on the back seat. The two men in front of him. Then they drove straight through the city into one of the outside districts. Finally they arrived at a large building, Carl never noticed before. They drove to a heavy gate that opened immediately – it led directly into an underground car park. The men left the car, guided Carl to an elevator and took it five floors upwards. They went through a long clear corridor to a glass door. They opened. It appeared a bright office with a large wooden desk and a comfortable leather office chair. In front of the desk was another chair – a small one. “Take a seat”, said one of the men. “Someone will be with you in a few minutes.” With that the men kept Carl guessing about what these people wanted from him.
After around ten minutes the door opened and in went the two men with a large woman. “Ah, Mr. Petersen”, said the woman. “I am Mrs. Rachel.” She sat down at the desk. Mrs. Rachel was in her mid-fifties – with a well-groomed appearance: She wore a beige pinstriped business suit with a tight skirt going down to just below her knees, a shear white high collar blouse, black stockings and shiny black ankle boots with spike heels. A black push-up bra was clearly visible through the blouse. Her hydrogen-blond hair was pinned up. She had put bright red lipstick on. When she took out some documents, Carl saw her long perfect painted red fingernails – like claws.
“Mr. Petersen, there is no time, so I’m coming to the point right now. We need to know everything about your contacts in the Middle East”, she said. “I cannot say that”, replied Carl. “They are company’s secrets.” “You have to! The security of your country depends on it.” Mrs. Rachel urged him most strongly to do so. “If you refuse to tell us what we want to know, we’re going to force you.” “You cannot detain me here. I haven’t done anything.” “We can and we will, Mr. Petersen”, warned Mrs. Rachel. “That’s ridiculous”, said Carl. With this he stood up and went to the door. But the guards blocked his way out. After a short hand to hand fight, the guards wrestled Carl down and pressed him to the floor. Mrs. Rachel brought a large syringe and a phial. Then she squatted beside him. She wound up the syringe with a solution from the phial and snapped at it. “I guarantee you’ve never felt anything like this before.” With her right hand she grabbed his head by the hair. Pulling on it, she forced his head sideward. “What you’re doing?” Carl’s eyes widened in fear. Without any other word Mrs. Rachel pressed the needle into his carotid. Carl flagged. Then the men hauled his lifeless body back to the elevator.
They took it two floors downwards and brought him to a white coated heavy steel door. Inside was a white tiled windowless cell. Not too large, with only one furniture: In one corner of the room was a flat bed. It had an universal system of fixing – like the one used for securing patients at psychiatric departments. Carl was conscious of being stripped by the guards and put in a white shirt and white trousers. Then the upper part of Carl’s body was put into a kind of corset before the guards lifted him up and placed him onto the bondage bed. A broad belt was fixed around his belly. Next his wrists were fixed in padded cuffs beside his body. Two additional belts were put to the chest set, preventing him definitely from rising from the bed. Then a set of belts for immobilisation of the lower extremities was affixed. It included fixative belts for each thighs and cuffs for the ankles. When they’d finished, the guards left the cell and locked the door. Now Carl was completely secured to the bondage bed and pumped full of tranquillizer.
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