Matthew stepped out of the coffee shop, a cup of hot chocolate in one hand and a blueberry muffin in the other and glanced at his watch. He had plenty of time to get back to the store before meeting that new sales rep. He glanced up and down the street and noticed a young woman looking at him. She flashed him a quick smile and looked away again, almost as if she were embarrassed. Matthew grinned to himself, turned away from her and started walking.

   His attention turned back to the meeting he was heading to and went over in his mind the information he had already been told. Absently, he took a sip of hot chocolate. Even though the sales rep was new, the product range in question was not. Eighteen months ago, the product had been selling at over twice the price it was now, which was why he had chosen not to stock it in his store. He was interested in it now because it was a product free of any prohibited substances in what was now a very competitive sport industry.

    Matthew stopped briefly at a newspaper stand and glanced over the headlines of various papers and magazines. He picked up a copy of the local paper and a body-building magazine, which he paid for before moving on. Finishing the remains of his hot chocolate, he tossed the cup into a bin and started paging through the magazine as he walked.

    He did not realise that anything was amiss until it was too late. Not three paces ahead, a dark van was pushing its rear doors open. Behind him, the woman that had smiled at him earlier was coming up quickly behind him. At the last possible moment, she grabbed his arm and propelled him in the direction of the van. He did not have an opportunity to protest let alone fight, before hands grabbed him from inside the van and pulled him inside. The doors were quickly closed and the van pulled into traffic. The woman continued walking as if nothing had happened and quickly blended into the crowd.

Hands had hold of his wrists. He became aware of something cold pressed against his neck, just below his jaw. A gun, he realised. He did not say anything as cautiously, one arm was released. Looking around as much as he could without moving, all he could see were shoes and jeans. He could not tell anything about his captors. He was aware of movement behind him and then someone was kneeling over him. A blindfold was pulled over his eyes and then he was gagged.

    A slight sense of fear began to set in now as he was pulled to his knees. Hands reached down and unbuttoned his shirt. In moments, he was forced to remove it and the vest that he wore beneath it. His arms were pulled behind his back and shackles were locked around his wrists. A very short chain, of thick metal links lead from one cuff to the other.

    Matthew felt them unbuckling his belt and udoing the button and zip on his trousers. He was pushed to the floor of the van again and he felt his shoes and socks being pulled off, quickly followed by some rough tugs. His trousers were also quickly removed. Mercifully, he was allowed to keep his Calvin Klein briefs.

    More shackles were locked around his ankles. As with his wrists, the chain between his ankles was short. A sense of panic rose within him, as he felt hands grabbing hold of his wrists and ankles, pulling them towards each other. His back arched and he moaned from behind his gag as his limbs were bound together.

    There was silence after that, except for the sound of the van's engine and Matthew was generally ignored, the kidnap having been successful and their victim secured.

    Already, he could feel his muscles cramping from the way he had been bound. It took all he had to remain calm, not letting the enormity of his situation to overwhelm him.

Suddenly, there was a trill of a cellphone, loud in the silence, making everyone jump. Someone swore under their breath. Clothes rustled and a belt clanked as they searched for his cellphone.

    "Don't answer," said someone.

    "They'll know something's wrong," came the reply.

    There was a pause and a third person said, "Give here." Matthew felt the gun pressing against his neck again, a silent warning. He listened helplessly as the person on the other end of the line was told the cellphone had been lost. The address of his shop was duly noted and a promise given that the phone would be returned. The call ended and his phone was switched off. The gun was pulled back. Matthew jerked at the chains in frustration and then groaned in agony as his cramped muscles protested. He slumped to the floor with a moan.

The rest of the journey was uneventful and Matthew finally roused himself when he felt the van slowing and turning a corner. It did not accelerate much and a moment later, it turned a couple more times before pulling to a stop. The van's rear doors were opened and he was roughly dragged backwards. The hogtie was removed and a muffled cry escaped the gag as cramped muscles were forced into motion.

    Matthew was not given a chance to let his circulation start as he was pulled out of the van. He fell to the ground, grimacing as sharp shards of gravel cut his skin. Winded, he was hauled to his feet and forced to stumble forward between two of his kidnappers.

    He was still battling a whirl of emotions, trying to catch his breath. He felt disorientated as they dragged him up what could have been a gravel driveway, the stones cutting into his feet. Moments later, they were inside, walking down a corridor, turning a corner, going downstairs. It was getting colder now. The floor was cold stone beneath his feet. He was pulled to a stop as a door opened. A couple steps into the room, he was pushed to his knees.

    Matthew could feel the panic inside him, barely kept under control. His captors had stepped back, but he knew that they were still in the room with him. As his breathing finally slowed and his heartbeat took on an easier rhythm, he wondered what they were waiting for. Turning his head, he listened for the slightest sound. As the time slowly passed, he began to fidget, testing his restraints for any chance to escape.

    His head snapped to the left as he heard a scrape of shoe against the floor behind him. A pair of feet circled round him slowly. They stopped in front of him and he felt a shoe pushing its self between his knees, forcing his knees apart. The pair of feet circled round him. Clothes rustled and a woman pressed herself against his bare back. His breath quickened as he felt an arm encircle him, a hand stroking his bare chest. The fingers found his left nipple and twirled round it, encouraging it to stand erect. They took hold of it, pinching, not too hard. Lips brushed against his left ear and he felt warm breath upon his cheek.

    "For years, I've waited for this. Nine long years. I've planned every detail of what I want to do to you."

    The fingers continued to tease his nipple, becoming insistent now, pinching it. This was getting serious now. He felt cold metal sliding down his hip. He heard the snipping of scissors and the material of his now ruined briefs fell away from his body slightly. His breath caught in his throat as the scissors, open slightly, slid across his body, catching on his genitals and were transferred to her other hand where the process was repeated. The material fell away, exposing him to his captors. Matthew felt the colour rising in his cheeks. At a gentle push from behind, he was encouraged to lift slightly and the scissors and ruined briefs were discarded.

    Both hands now explored his naked body, the woman still kneeling behind him. Her fingers found his nipples again and were more insistent in their touch, pinching hard, almost painfully before moving down over his stomach to rest briefly on the insides of his thighs. Matthew's heart hammered in his chest as one hand encircled his testicles, the other closing around his flaccid penis. Easing the foreskin back, her thumb brushed back and forth across the tip as she slowly began to masturbate him. Despite his fear, he felt himself responding to her touch. He moaned softly, his body relaxing as his penis grew in her hand.

    The experience turned from pleasant to painful in seconds. Her hand closed round his testicles, squeezing them between her fingers. What had been moans of pleasure moments before now became muffled cries of pain. Waves of agony seemed to radiate from his trapped manhood to the pit of his stomach, lodging there, making him want to vomit. She was speaking again, her voice almost hateful. "You would have, wouldn't you? You'd have done it too if you hadn't been interrupted."

    Matthew's mind whirled in confusion. He was only vaguely aware of her moving away and hands grabbing hold of him, pulling him to his feet and leading him further into the room. He forced his mind to concentrate on the matter at hand as hands took hold of his arms and unclipped the chain between the two shackles. Pulling his arms ahead of him, his captors forced him to bend over a table. He felt his wrists being shackled together again and secured to something at the other end of the table. His legs were kicked apart, hands taking hold of ankles attached more chains, holding his legs apart.

    His captors stepped and there was a brief pause. Almost as if they were taking stock of the situation. Then she was beside him again, leaning over him, one hand took hold of his, interlacing their fingers as her lips brushed against his ear. At the same time, he became aware of someone else behind him. Hands took hold of his buttocks, spreading his already spread ass cheeks wider apart. He felt something pressing against his anus.

    "Part of their payment for kidnapping you, is that one of them gets to fuck you." She paused and Matthew felt the prodding becoming more insistent. For the first time, he fought against his restraints, certain of what was going to happen next. Her next words confirmed it.

    "Now you will know how I felt when I was raped."

    Matthew screamed into the gag as, in one fluid motion, he was impaled upon a man's penis.

"It's been four days now. Oh God, I hope nothing's happened to him."

    "Have you been to the police?"

    Kate turned round, rubbing her arms through the cardigan and nodded. "Yesterday, I went and filled out a missing persons report. The desk sergeant did not seem to care." She started to pace. "He's a grown man, he said. He can look after himself. He'll get in touch when he wants to." She stopped, staring vacantly at a group of photographs upon a table. Softly, she said, "This feels just like a scene out of a movie. You really don't expect something like this to happen to you."

    "What about his cellphone?"

    Kate blinked and focused on a photograph of the two of them together, near Niagara Falls. Absently, she replied, "It's still switched off." She sank into a nearby chair and started weeping. "He should have called by now."

Matthew's world erupted pain once more. She was back. He had long since lost track of time and was not sure how long it had been since her last visit. Stripes of pain blossomed across his back as the whip connected again. He cried out, twisting slightly in an effort to avoid the third blow. Suspended by his wrists and unable to get to his feet, he might as well not have bothered. Any attempt at struggling only brought protests from numb and cramped muscles.

    The beating stopped. Matthew knew she was not done yet. His head drooped with exhaustion as he waited for her next move. He listened for the slightest sound as he concentrated on his breathing. All his weight on his arms and upper chest made it difficult to inhale.

    Her foot suddenly connected with his crotch. Matthew coughed as pain radiated from his crushed testicles and lodged in his stomach. His throat closed and it was all he could do to hold back the urge to vomit. He could barely breathe, let alone cry out in pain. Tears soaked into the blindfold as he tugged weakly at his restraints.

    She kicked him a second time. The need to vomit became stronger. Matthew held his breath, willing the pain to subside. He could hear a loud rushing sound in his ears. He felt light-headed and would have fallen over had he not been restrained.

    The whip cracked across his shoulders again. Matthew inhaled sharply and cried out in pain. She began hitting him in quick succession. His head drooped lower with each blow and his mind began to drift. He vaguely wondered whether it was blood or sweat that he could feel trickling down his back. His question was answered moments later when she returned and threw a bucket of salted water across his shoulders. A single agonised cry escaped his gag before Matthew finally passed out.

Matthew drifted back into consciousness again. He did not know how long he had been kept a prisoner. He could only hope that this nightmare would end soon. Unbidden, his mind returned to the incident that he was so carefully trying to avoid. The moments just after his captors had tied him down. He moaned and pulled against the restraints, gritting his teeth as cramped muscles protested.

    He remembered the pure terror he had felt and the sense of helplessness. In his mind, he had begged for them not to do it, pleaded for it to stop. They had not heard him, of course and the rape continued. Blood had trickled down his thighs as his rectum tore from the force of the abuse. He had struggled for a while, his mind in denial of what was happening to him. He had never experienced such pain.

    Eventually, he stopped struggling. He had tried to escape in his mind to a safe corner, away from what was happening to him. He turned his mind to thoughts of Kate, and their recent holiday to Niagara Falls. Safer, more enjoyable times. He remembered how happy he was when she told him that she was pregnant.

    They did not allow this. Fingers dug into his hips. A hand grabbed his testicles and squeezed mercilessly. With another muffled scream, his mind was forced to return. One hand roughly continued to maul his testicles while the other reached between his chest and the table, cruelly pinching and squeezing his nipples. A hand wrenched his head back so that he could lick and bite his ear.

    Matthew remembered the sense of defeat he had felt as he discovered moments later that the man had not worn a condom as he ejaculated deep inside him. Fresh tears stung his eyes, behind his blindfold. Halfheartedly, he tugged against the restraints, causing his muscles to protest. He felt so dirty, yet he could not wash. Even if he were, he knew that no amount of washing could clean away this filth.

    With much effort, he pulled his mind away from his suffering and concentrated on less troubled times. He sought out more memories of Kate. He hoped that his disappearance was not putting strain on her pregnancy. She had started her third trimester last week. The doctor had warned her to take it easy. He could see her face in his mind and reached out to hold her. He remembered where he was and moaned, praying that he would be able to see her again.

Something touched his arm. Still half asleep, he whimpered and tried to pull away. He lifted his head weakly and moaned again, finally remembering where he was.

    The hand left his arm and he felt it come to rest on his back, at the base of his spine. Her touch was light and gentle, but he tensed. Her hand stroked his back, brushing lightly over the wounds left by the flogging he had endured recently. Most of the wounds had scabbed over but there were still a couple that were open and raw. Her fingers found one now and scratched it harshly. A muffled cry escaped his gag and he began to struggle as she continued to torment the wound.

    Finally, she tired of the game and pulled her hand away. Matthew slumped against the restraints, gasping for breath, skin damp with sweat.

    She pulled his blindfold off and they surveyed each other. The one with cold dispassion, the other with raw fear. Matthew looked away first, turning his head to the side, eyes cast down. She circled him once, slowly, watching as he kept his eyes averted. Taking hold of his chin, she forced him to look at her again. This time, he could not look away.

    She said, "You would have, wouldn't you?" The same words she had said to him on the day of his capture. Still he did not know what she meant and the confusion showed on his face. She stared at him. Her expression changed from cold dispassion, to one of irritation and then of incredulousness. "You don't remember do you?" He hesitated, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat and shook his head.

    She disappeared from view for a moment and returned with a wooden chair. She sat down in front of him. "You remember your friend, Zane Pratt, don't you?" She paused, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement. Not receiving any, she shrugged and said, "You and Zane were so out of it that night, that I'm surprised you even knew what you were doing. You both stank of booze and probably had done some drugs too." She sat back, crossing her legs and tucking her arms across her chest. She looked at the fingers of her left hand and used her thumb nail to pick at something under another nail.

    It was a while before she resumed her story, skipping some of it. "I didn't press charges, you know." Her voice was almost conversational. "How could I, when he didn't ejaculate? There was no evidence, so it would be my word against yours. And his. I did not want the fact that I was the mayor's daughter to enter it. Justice would not be done right, so waited."

    She sat forward again, eyes narrowed and a look of utter distaste on her face. "I killed him. Last year, I had that same group kidnap him and bring him here, like they did to you. They brought him down to this same room and each had a chance to rape him before I took what was left."

    Matthew felt himself go cold. "I tortured him. What you're experiencing. It's just the beginning. His suffering was ten times worse." She paused, watching Matthew's face. He was terrified, but could not look away. "He screamed. Begged. Cried. For two whole weeks." Her eyes danced from side to side. She was taking great pleasure in recounting the experience.

    "Want to know how he died?" she asked. She got up and stepped closer to Matthew. Taking hold of his testicles, she squeezed them harshly. Squatting down on his level, nose inches away from his face, she said softly, "I cut them off." She squeezed his balls until Matthew moaned in pain. Not letting go, she continued, "They were the last things he saw." She paused for effect. "His balls. In my hand." She held her open hand in front of his face. Matthew's eyes flitted from her empty hand to the sheer hatred in her eyes. Her voice dropped even lower and she leaned closer, lips brushing against Matthew's ear. "They were his last meal, too. One by one, I stuffed them down his throat as he bled to death."

    Matthew felt himself lose all control of his bladder, urine trickling down his leg. She stepped back in disgust. "You pathetic little pig," she spat and went to the basin to wash her hands.

    She felt no remorse. To her, Zane had gotten what he deserved. And he was next. He was thoroughly terrified. He tried to speak from behind his gag. She looked at him, annoyed. His efforts became more insistent and she roughly removed his gag. "Make it quick," she snapped as she picked up the flogger. Matthew's eyes fixed on the hateful instrument that had caused him so much agony. Several leather strands hung down from a short wooden handle. Each strand was knotted at the end. He knew from experience that these strands tore the skin and caused incredible pain.

    She cracked the whip in front of his face, breaking his reverie. "What do you want?"

    Matthew tried to speak but no sound came out. Swallowing several times, he tried again, and said in a hoarse whisper, "When did this happen?"

    She stared at him, a muscle in her jaw twitched. "End of April. Nine years ago." He could see her get even more angry. "You nearly raped me and you do not remember? You filthy, disgusting swine!" She brought the whip down across his chest. He groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. Matthew clenched his teeth as the beating started again.

    Despite the pain, some small part of his mind was able to process what she had told him. He began to remember fragments of what had happened that night, many years ago.

    He could remember a woman being raped. Her name was Sarah Bartlett if he was not mistaken. He remembered being hauled in for questioning during the week after it happened, but he had an airtight alibi.

    That Saturday night was the same night that Kate had taken him home to meet her family. He could distinctly remember being scared of meeting her father. It was a well known fact that he loved his daughter and would do anything to protect her. As it happened, he need not have worried. Her dad was a big NHL fan and that night Toronto had made it through to the playoffs against Detroit. They had eaten a quick dinner and spent the rest of the evening watching the game.

    Sarah had been walking home from a friend's place and decided to take a shortcut through campus. Little did she realise that the students had organised a party that night. As she walked past the dorms, there were a couple guys standing outside. They started whistling and cat-calling when they saw her. They did not let her past, instead forcing her to go inside with them, into one of the rooms, where they had showed her their interpretation of a good time.

When Matthew came round again, he was lying on a cold metal table. He was gagged again and his jaw ached. His arms were at his sides and straps held him down, across his shoulders, hips and legs. He heard something being wheeled towards him and lifted his head slowly. Sarah was wheeling what looked like a medical trolley towards him. Its contents were covered by a blue cloth. Fear gripped his chest, though he was not sure why.

    Sarah parked the trolley at his feet and placed a hand on his leg. She looked at him and smiled, patting his thigh. He watched her move away again, to a basin against the wall. He heard water running and a few moments later, she returned, patting her hands dry with another blue cloth. Matthew was becoming worried now and tried to fight against the restraints. He was too weak and the straps were well secured. When he looked again, Sarah was wearing rubber gloves. She had a bottle in one hand and a small white cloth in the other. He could smell the strong, pungent smell of alcohol. He realised then, as she began swabbing the area that she had shaven his pubic hair while unconscious.

    As she draped the blue cloths across his thighs and stomach, he understood what she had in mind and shouted into the gag. She looked at him and smiled again. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine," she assured him. Turning back to the tray and picked up a scalpel. Taking hold of Matthew's testicles, she pulled them down to the bottom of his scrotum. Matthew screamed into the gag as she made the first incision. He was dimly aware of her saying, "They're still going to have to go. It's in the genes."