Kristi's Kidnapping

[IntimateViolator]

This is one of my older stories. It consists of 3 chapters written so far.

Kristi's Kidnapping
Chapter 1

I had been watching Kristi for some time. It is fairly easy to watch
someone go about their life without their knowing about it. Just ask a cop
who has done a stakeout. My purpose differed somewhat from a cop's, though.
I was going to kidnap Kristi.

After I knew her routine well enough, I also knew where the best place to
make the grab would be. She always shopped at the same supermarket near her
house every day or so. I had also found her parking in the semi-secluded
employee section, rather than the normal parking lot. The reason was
simple. At the time of day she stopped there the main lot was usually full.
She could park in the employee lot, though, and walk along the side of the
building more quickly than walking in from a distant space in the main lot.

After laying my plans for the actual grab, and also setting up my "shop"
for the action yet to come I then lay my trap for Kristi. I'd identified
the two spaces she normally used. They were vacated by employees whose
shift ended about forty-five minutes prior to Kristi's usual time of
arrival. I parked my white van in one of those two spots, along side of the
other one she tended to use. To make sure that there would be no one using
the slot I wanted her in, I put one of those orange cones in it. Keeping
careful track of the time, I pulled the cone in within just two minutes of
the target's arrival.

Like a good target, Kristi pulled into this lesser used lot right alongside
of my white van. I'd positioned the passenger side review mirror to give me
a view of her as she got out of her car. I waited for her to lock her car
door before springing my trap.

The sudden sliding of the van door startled her and I had a wonderful view
of her wide blue eyes as she turned involuntarily toward the noise. Her
eyes got even bigger as she looked at me, and then at the cold blue barrel
of the .44 magnum in my right hand.

I didn't wait for her to decide on an action. She was already recoiling
from the shock of seeing a deadly weapon leveled upon her and was going
into that deer in the headlights freeze action everyone has upon looking at
a gun. I lunged forward, one foot to the ground as my left hand grabbed her
by the generously filled blouse. Pushing back from my position on the
ground I brought her forward by the convenient handle. Forward for her,
backward for me, pulling her halfway into the van before she could even
think about what was happening.

"Make one noise and your head will be all over the parking lot, Kristi."
She didn't know me, but the realization that I knew her name was just the
right sort of edge to keep her from attempting to try anything stupid.

It was enough of an edge to allow me to finish getting her into the van.
Pushing her down to the van floor and swinging the door closed only took a
second. In the sudden dimness she was further put off balance. My eyes were
adjusted to that level of lighting, hers were not.

I pushed the gun barrel into her face, right to her pretty lips. "Open your
mouth." She hesitated, so I went with the melodramatic and unnecessary show
of cocking the double action hammer on the revolver. The clicking of the
mechanism was as loud as old Marley's shackles, and just as angry. Kristi
took the hint.

I love watching that six inch blue steel barrel slide into a woman's mouth.
Freudians would have a field day with that surge of power, but I don't give
a damn. It feels good to do that. I really enjoyed it this time, seeing the
shudder run through Kristi's lush body when the gun oil flavored lollipop
entered her mouth. Couldn't have asked her to do better.

"That's right, Kristi, you just make ole' Dirty Harry here feel nice and
welcome in your pretty mouth and not make him angry by trying to scream."

My free left hand found her right wrist and pulled it up over her head
where I had a set of handcuffs waiting. I ratcheted the first cuff closed
on her wrist, then found her other arm by feel and brought it up to join
the right. She wouldn't be pulling her arms down, now, though. The
handcuffs were locked to a chain bolted to the bed of the van.

Now that some of the important elements were taken care of I allowed myself
a feel of my newly won toy. I grabbed her right full, breast in my left
hand and squeezed. Kristi's eyes were trying to do the screaming her mouth
didn't dare do. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes that wouldn't
leave that cocked killer cock that occupying her mouth.

"Your lips look like you would make a good cock-sucker. Have you sucked
cock before, Kristi? Why not put a lip lock on ole' Harry and show him that
he shouldn't be in a hurry to blow a load all over your tonsils, hmm?"

Her lips were fear dry as she slowly brought them in to wrap around that
hard pistol pecker. I laughed as I slowly moved it back and forth, fucking
her face with my gun. My reward for evil laughter was another of those
delicious shudders.

In the back of my head I knew that to stick around much longer was surely a
risk and there would be more time, later, to stick things in pretty
Kristi's mouth. With a second, regretfully brief, squeeze of her breast I
returned to the task of wrapping my present to myself.

I got the prod-muffle gag out of a pocket and held it next to her mouth.
"Open up, little baby, I've got your Binky right here." Just as slowly as
she'd moved before, she let her mouth open, freeing my gun barrel. I
crammed the hard rubber prod into her mouth. More filling than the
relatively slender steel rod, the rubber would hold her much more quiet.
The surface of the gag's strap, which would hold the prod in place, was a
thick wad of sponge. It would form a muffling barrier around her lips, to
make sure she was as quiet as possible.

My little muffler in place I stuffed Harry into his holster and used both
hands to buckle the gag into place.

No longer having Harry's Cyclopean eye staring down her gullet, Kristi
picked this moment to get feisty. I like it when a girl fights. It
increases the fun of breaking her.

She attempted to lever up from the floor. Not very easily accomplished when
your wrists are pinned by chain to that same floor. With my hands free, I
could pretty much pick and choose my target. She had gotten one leg under
herself and was pushing up/rolling to her side, face towards me. I brought
one of my big hands down across her face. Hard.

The sudden, albeit not very intense, pain combined with the unyielding
restraint on her wrists gave her pause. She looked at me and began to try
to say something behind the gag. Or perhaps to scream. No one was capable
of hearing her, though.

"Save your breath, sweetie. There will be plenty of time for your screams
later. However, if you don't get real cooperative real fast you might not
live to make those screams." I touched a hand to Harry to let her know I
meant business. It was all the reminder she needed.

I took one of her ankles in my left hand, then snapped the leg iron closed
on it. These are built like handcuffs, but are slightly larger for the
ankle, rather than the wrist. This set had its eighteen-inch chain cut in
half and each half was bolted to the van's frame, too. Far apart from one
another. At their closest approach the two cuffs won't go closer than three
feet.

I snagged her other ankle and brought it to the matching cuff. Now my
present was wrapped up nice and snug. I took a moment to enjoy the sight.

Kristi's not a little girl. She is five feet, nine inches tall. A big girl,
but still small compared to my own size. Her breasts were not huge, but
nicely sized at 36D, making them appear larger, due to the cup size. Right
then, with her big blue eyes peeking out from under a fringe of her dirty
blonde hair she looked very nice indeed. Her slim waist tapered down from
her chest before flaring into the kind of hips a man can ride all night
from in front or behind. The modest skirt she wore had ridden up in our
struggles, exposing the crotch of her pantyhose. It also revealed all of
her long, long legs. She had ripened quite nicely in her twenty-four years
of life. Now it was time to take that physical beauty and shape it to my
own (twisted, I admit) will.

I let a wolf's grin stretch across my face. "You'll be a lot of fun,
Kristi. A _lot_ of fun!" I turned away and got into the driver's seat.
Starting the engine, I pulled out of the parking lot and made my way to my
private playground observing every rule of safe and lawful driving.

A few years ago, during a business boom that quickly faded, there had been
expansion on the west side of town. Some places had opened up to do
business that never quite kept up the payments. The banks had eventually
taken charge of many different types of buildings and auctioned them off.
That was how I had acquired my playground. A structure originally designed
for a mail-order outfit, set far back off the road. It even had a large
roll-up door so that vans could be pulled into the building. Arriving at my
place I hit the remote to raise the door at exactly one hour after I had
grabbed Kristi's blouse. We were now many miles from the parking lot where
her car was still parked. I pulled my van inside and hit the button again
to close the roll-up door. I cut the engine as it finished closing.

I turned to the back of the van where Kristi still lay, trussed up and
silenced. "Don't go away now, y' hear?" I chuckled as I got out of my
driver's side door.

I had already set up some of my equipment. I needed very little time to
turn on the powerful flood lights I wanted on my initial play station. I
also began the taping of the six video cameras which would capture every
moment of these first few hours with Kristi. Later, I would set them up in
different locations to complete the record.

A quick look around at the scene and I knew it was time to fetch my prize
into the spotlight.

I slid open the van's side door and looked fondly on Kristi. She too had
been busy, testing her bonds. Foolish little slut. They would take a lot
more than she could put into them. All her struggles had done was to
further hike up her skirt and to pull her blouse out of the waistband of
her skirt, exposing some creamy white tummy flesh to my eyes. It did show
her to still have fight. I would enjoy taking it out of her.

"I've got a pretty little necklace for you, Kristi." I held up a large
dog's choke chain. Climbing inside the van I put the chain over her head
and fitted it around her neck. I then put a second set of handcuffs around
her wrists, these were not fastened to the frame of the van. Having her
wrists secured, I unlocked the first set of cuffs and her ankles as well.

I'll say this about Kristi, she's not one to give up easily. She reached
for the revolver as soon as her ankles were free. Now, I'm not stupid. Nor
are cops who do a lot more wrestling with suspects than I do. This was a
holster designed to resist being pulled out except by the wearer and resist
it did. I grabbed the chain on the handcuffs and the choke chain instead of
reaching for the gun. Pulling up on the choke chain left my little wildcat
feeling those cruel metal links designed to restrain a Rottwieller digging
into her much more tender throat.

"Bet you'll pass out from lack of oxygen before that holster gives way,
slut!" No bluff. She wasn't pulling in any air and had at most ninety
seconds before blacking out. The choker was also restricting her carotid
arteries, thereby shortening the time she had any fight to give.

She wasn't stupid. Her hands relaxed from the butt of the revolver and I
lifted them away from it with my grip on the cuffs.

"Good girl. Now it is time to see your new home!"

Using my two handles, one on her wrists and one on her choke chain, I
pulled her out of the van. She had to scramble to keep up, but made it. We
quick-timed it across the floor to the taping area.

I let go of her choke chain to fasten the handcuffs to a line above her
head. After being cut off from easy breathing she didn't fight this
binding. She was busy gasping for air through her nose.

I took out a spreader bar while she was occupied with remembering to
breathe. I fastened one end to her right ankle and then pushed her legs
apart to attach the other to her left.

These touches completed I stood back to admire my prize once more.

Kristi had recovered her breath enough to start struggling again. She
tugged on the cuffs on her wrists, probably chafing them in the process.
She tried to bring her legs together, as well, with about as much success.
Quite a sight, let me tell you!

Ever watched an indignant and frightened woman struggling in bondage with a
serious attempt at getting away? Her shoulders and hips were swinging,
breasts bouncing inside her bra, and the sounds coming out of her! It
wasn't loud, but so sweet! The muffle-prod was keeping her squeals and
screams down to a very intoxicating series of moans.

Kristi's 125 pound body was developing a nice sheen of perspiration from
fear and exertion. Her twisting and turning in her bonds was giving me a
very nice look at her curves. I was very glad the video cameras were
capturing every moment. Her blue eyes glared at me above the gag.

"Looking good, little Kristi! Very nice! You will be such a pleasure to
work with!" That earned me a redoubled glare and a _lot_ more efforts to
curse me through her gag.

Enough footage of a clothed body, I decided. I stepped closer to her,
looking down into her face. I grabbed her dishwater blonde hair and pulled
back on it, forcing her neck to arch. She did try to kick at me, but the
spreader bar defeated the motion before it began. The result was a petulant
foot stamping, like a little girl who didn't get her way.

I reached into a pocket and came out with my switchblade. I snapped it open
in front of her eyes. I own and sometimes use bigger knives, but there is
something so intense about a switchblade's loud snap as it opens. It gives
a thrill of power to the wielder and a shudder to most of those who lie
bound before its sharp edged glory. Kristi did that shudder again, the one
I like so much. It was so perfect I could have kissed her for letting me
get that on film.

I turned the handle in my fingers, letting the blade catch the light and
shine it down into her face. Letting her get a long, loving look at the
length of sharpened steel with its needle sharp tip.

"Feeling a little scared, Kristi-slut?" I paused for an answer and supplied
my own with the grip I held on her hair, forcing a rough, jerky nod that
tugged her hair painfully. "Good! Do you know why that is good? Because
the more you fear me the more cooperative you will be." I brought the edge
of the blade down, caressing her cheekbone with the flat of the cool metal.
"And the more you are cooperative you are the longer you will remain pretty
and alive."

I let that last comment sink in as I trailed the tip of the blade down her
cheek to her throat. She felt that threat very clearly. Her eyes closed and
I saw her throat try to swallow.

"You are mine, now." I brought the blade down to the first button of her
blouse. "All mine." A slice and the button left the material, its threads
cut through. The material, already under tension from her position gaped
open, showing a hint of the cleavage held by her bra. "To do with as I
wish." A second button fell victim to the edge of my switchblade, falling
to the floor. The blouse opened wider, showing the front strap of her bra
and a bit of her smooth, taught belly.

I paused in my knife stripping of my new play toy to play with her. I used
that needle sharp tip on the blade to trace a small daisy upon the cleavage
of her D-cup left breast. The tip's passing created a faint white outline,
at first, which grew into a light pink before beginning to fade entirely.
This one would mark well under the whips.

Kristi's response to my artwork was to hold her breath the entire time I
had her breast under the knife. When I finally drew the tip away she
exhaled loudly through her nose and then breathed deeply once more.

Fear had been in her eyes time and again throughout our first meeting, but
I think it was finally dawning on her how hopeless her situation was. I
could just as easily carve that daisy, or any flower or figure I wanted on
her body. Anywhere. Her eyes held that look of powerlessness that I had
aimed for. She _was_ powerless. Like Townsend wrote, the only power left to
her was her submission.

"That's right, little slut. You don't have any hope to stop me from doing
whatever I want to you. No one will appear to save you. No way." I said
this looking down into her eyes. "Your only choice now is cooperation, and
even that isn't an option. Any resistance at all will be repaid with force.
I'll still get what I want, and you will only be hurt even more. "

There are two paths a person takes at this point. One is to try and lull me
with total compliance. I'd cut that path off, though. She couldn't promise
anything, except with her eyes. The other is to try and prove me wrong. All
other paths were closed. I'd played her like a puppet right into just the
one I wanted her to take. She took the second path.

I'd already tightened my grip even more on her hair. Good thing, too. She
exploded in the limited terms her bondage allowed.

Kristi shook her head violently, nearly pulling her hair free of my grasp.
She swung her torso and hips as far as her tether would allow her. She
straddle-stepped her spread legs and even managed to connect with the bar
on my shin. Of course, I'd counted on that, from experience and the blow
was wasted on the well padded shin brace, making only a resounding 'clack'
as the rod hit the plastic brace under my pants leg.

I was loving every minute of it. I wanted her to wear herself down for me.
It proved to me that I had chosen her well. The handcuffs were chafing her
wrists, giving her reason to regret this incident of resistance later. The
same effect was happening in her hair as her own twisting pulled and
twisted her locks. She'd be feeling this little tantrum for a long time
this evening, and probably tomorrow as well. And it gained her nothing.

"There's no place to go, Kristi. No place at all. And I'm not going to let
you go. You are mine, little slut. You won't leave me. Not alive, anyway!"

I decided to continue unveiling my little Fatima of the modern veils. She'd
wound down and was panting through her nose. The screams and curses she'd
tried to hurl through the gag had faded now to mere sobs of frustration. My
knife made another pass and her final button fell away to the floor. As her
capture and other events had pulled most of the blouse's tails out of her
skirt's waistband her narrow waist was now evident. Even the delicate
goblet of her navel was exposed. She fought the flinch I expected when I
traced its rim with the knifepoint.

I let go of her hair to lift the hem of her skirt, then sliced a six-inch
long gash in it. Grasping both sides of the gash in my hands I tore it
clear up to the waistband in one try.

Kristi's sobs redoubled, knowing that her rape was inevitable. If she only
knew all of what I had planned for her she would cry all the harder.

Having revealed her charms in form, if not in fact I eased back a bit. It
bears you in good stead to let a victim have a good cry. Full out attack
mode can take more out of you in the long run, making later efforts suffer
from exhaustion. Since rape alone was not my goal I wanted to conserve my
energy, but let hers wear down. Plus, I wanted lots of good footage of
this. The build up is half the fun for the viewer, knowing what's coming,
but holding back with just a bit of tease.

I stepped out of the floodlights to the cooler air in the darkness beyond.
I gulped down cold spring water as I watched her cry. Tears ran down her
cheeks in tiny rivulets. The sponge on the muffle-prod was fully saturated
by now. Her mouth would be dry, her voice hoarse from the screams. I wanted
to let her dangle on my emotional hook. She wasn't totally naked, yet. She
would be, soon enough, though.

The ripped gap in her skirt framed her barely covered cunt, highlighting it
to my eyes and the eyes of at least three of the cameras. Her breasts where
all but revealed in their brassiere, which was framed by the ruined blouse.
This time, when a woman is not totally naked, but her clothes don't cover
her in any meaningful way is a very psychologically tormenting time. I'd
done more than bare her body. I'd bared her dignity, her essence as a
woman. It was very damning to her.

I gulped a bit more of the water, making sure I was well hydrated for the
work to come. When I approached her again, it was from behind. She was so
lost in her own misery that whatever small noises I made approaching were
not noticed.

"Break time's over, sweetmeat!" I announced as I pulled the choke chain
taut around her throat again. She jumped, startled and began to thrash a
bit. I wasn't in front of her, and she had no point of reference as to
where to move or what to do. Like a fish yanked from the depths of the sea
by the angler's hook she flopped around, lost in a world she didn't
understand.

I relaxed the choke chain, letting her have air again. It isn't my favorite
tool for breath control, but it will do for a quick and quite painful
introduction to the facts. Fact one: I control her life, totally, and can
take it away at anytime.

I walked around her, taking in the sights. The proud thrust to the breasts,
the slim waist, the full hips and the long, long legs. Very nice. I
succeeded in not breaking my arm patting myself on the back, sort of. I had
quite a catch here.

With a seemingly careless wave of my knife that at first appeared destined
to plunge into her chest, then diverted, I parted her front bra strap in a
single pass. I had practice. She'd seen the knife and expected to feel it
dive into her heart, and so the final baring of her breasts came with mixed
relief. She was alive, but did she really want to be?

"You are mine, Kristi-slut, in all things." I moved a hand over her right
breast, feeling its soft curves with tenderness. Her nipples weren't hard.
Yet. I could change that, though. I would. "In pleasure," I pulled my hand
away from its soft home, "and in pain!" I punctuated my statement with a
slap to her right breast. Her back arched as she writhed from the stinging
blow. She howled behind the gag, a wordless cry that came from deep within.
I wanted to be sure she understood that I meant it, so I delivered a
companion swat to her left breast.

Her tits swung magnificently. Each blow had swung them out to the side only
for them to snap back to their original place with hardly a wobble. Red
prints of my fingers marked each striking point in livid, lurid shades.
While I was pledged to inflict so much more upon this little slut I took a
moment to enjoy these first few strikes upon her flesh.

"From this point forward every thing you feel, everything you do is for me,
from me or just because I want to. Your own interests are totally
secondary. All of them. Every need of your own is mine to fulfill or deny.
You are _mine_!" She wasn't looking at me, but I knew she heard me. And was
denying it. For now.

I like to reinforce my lessons with graphic examples. I picked up an item
from beyond the perimeter of lights and cameras. I stepped forward. The
pain had given a modest erectness to the slut's nipples. I took advantage
of this by putting the first of a set of screw clamps on her left nipple.
Whether she was getting tired, or just starting to accept what was
happening I'm not totally sure, but she didn't start to struggle until the
second clamp was on. Of course, I started tightening that clamp first.

When she began to try and shrink away I simply switched my attentions to
tightening the other clamp. This went on until I had tightened the clamps
to my satisfaction. Not their tightest, by a long shot. Just enough to make
her feel their potential.

"Can you doubt the truth of my words while the proof bites your nipples?
Hmm? Care to make them go away? Can you make them go away? Shall we say two
minutes? Surely an independent woman like you can make a little piece of
metal go away in that long a time, right?" I knew damn well that she stood
no chance. I don't bet on anything but a sure thing. If she could get even
one of them off it would set this plan back big time. If she lost, though,
it would advance her training immensely. Of course, having sprayed the
contact surfaces of the clamps with Stickum helped boost the probability of
her loosing.

I'll hand it to her. She gave it the old school try. Of course, the shaking
of her chest only helped give me more wonderful footage, this time of a
woman in pain, and in making those same nipples feel even worse. Normally a
clamp hurts, then goes numb. You do anything strenuous to it, though, and
it doesn't get numb very quickly. She helped make it an enjoyable one
hundred twenty seconds.

"Time's up! How many clamps did you get off? Oops, this one just got
tighter!" Of course it did, I just tightened it myself. "And this one,
too!" So much for numbness setting in.

"Listen up, slut!" I pulled her head back with her hair-handle as I stood
directly in front of her, leaning against the trapped tips of her nipples,
forcing a grimace of pain she couldn't hold back from me. "You have _no_
choice. No power. No fucking _life_ without me giving it to you!"

I reached a free hand up to her left breast and squeezed it. Slowly, I
built up the pressure on her trapped breast. This caused dual pain. The
direct pain of the pressure and the sharper pain of the trapped nipple
being forced to swell against the clamp.

Her eyes were watering, or perhaps she was crying, looking into mine. It
was time to give her something else to feel, though. To show there was more
to being my slut than pain.

I released her breast and lowered my hand to the juncture of her thighs. I
felt the slick texture of the nylon pantyhose over her mons. I stroked the
mound with tenderness and care. I kept my eyes locked with hers as the
sensation began to sink in to her abused, frightened mind.

"That's right, Kristi. I can give pleasure, too. When I feel like it. When
I want you to feel it. My choice. My power."

She didn't want to feel this. My touch on her in an intimate and tender
manner. I'd not studied sexuality for nothing though. I knew how to touch a
woman in ways that are pleasing. And the human body doesn't always pay
attention to the outrage of the mind. Not when you choose your victim
carefully.

My finger slowly stroked along the edges of her cunt lips over the nylon.
Lightly. Teasingly. Gently insistent. Patiently.

Kristi tried to focus upon the pain I was giving her. Upon her fear of me.
Upon the fact that I had kidnapped her and was very likely to rape her or
worse. I could see it all in her eyes.

And I saw her failure as she began to despair. Despair of resisting that
touch upon her cunt. That touching that knew all of her secret places and
was tempting them with exquisite pleasures. Touching that drove her fears
from her body and coaxed a response from it. A response to the touching
from someone she feared and loathed.

Kristi's cunt was getting wet. Slowly, surely, I was turning her body
against her. Making her want that touch, and more. She was hating me for
making her feel this way even more than she hated me for giving her pain.
She was beginning to hate her own body for betraying her in my hands.

I let my eyes smile down into hers. Not a full gloat. Just a smirk with the
eyes. She knew I knew she was responding. And my finger stroked directly
over her hardening clit.

Kristi let go with a sob of despair and her body sagged in the bonds.

"Pleasure is the reward for sluts who cooperate, Kristi. More pleasure than
you can imagine. More than that pathetic, sensitive twerp Richard could
give you."

That brought her back. One more inkling that I knew more about her than the
average stranger.

"You really aren't that good at faking orgasms, little slut. The Meg Ryan
over-acting doesn't really suit you." She shuddered and blushed. And
cringed. All at once. I knew more about her than she thought anyone knew.

She screamed at me. Rage at having her life so thoroughly invaded. How
little she knew how that life was to change in my service.

"All of that is in the past, my slut. You are mine now. You won't fake your
orgasms with me. And you will orgasm. When I say so." I twisted the clamps
on her nipples. It reawakened her sensation there. One more reminder of my
threats having a way of coming true.

With that reminder burning into her brain, I stepped away. I swallowed some
more of the water, conscious of how the hot lights were dehydrating me. It
was likely even worse for Kristi, who could only suck on the prod for
moisture, and it would give none.

I watched her, from the cool darkness. Sweat had matted her hair somewhat,
and dampened the arm pits of her blouse. Good.

She looked around, trying to gauge where I was. I knew that with all the
other lights out she would not be able to spot me beyond the perimeter of
the light. I wanted her to worry where I would come from next. When and
what her next torment would be. But I had the rest of her life to torment
her. I was in no hurry.

Instead I let the luxury of time do some of my work for me. Her nipples
would be growing numb again. All the better for the pain that would rush
into them when I pulled the clamps off.

After the roller coaster ride I'd been giving to her fear and stress levels
it would work for me to let her wait. I made my way to the control booth
and started changing tapes on the cameras. They would be edited later. I
came back from a different angle from the last. I had an interest in
keeping her off guard.

I simply walked up to her and unscrewed the left nipple clamp. Immediately
the pain hit her. And kept building as blood returned to the nipple. She
twisted and turned and tried to keep the other one away from me, even as
her exertions made it hurt.

"You think I'm not going to take that other one off? Stupid slut!" I
reached out and gave the right clamp a yank. She damn near came off the
floor in her spasm of pain. "Cooperation is the key, Kristi. Your
salvation." Another sharp tug and it finally came loose, having squeezed
her flesh through its tight jaws on its way. Her legs buckled under the
pain and she hung from her wrists for a bit, before raising back up to her
feet, slowly.

She hated me. She feared me. I was going to keep her in fear and use it.
The hatred needed to be turned inward, soon. Turned in upon herself.