Kidnapped for a weekend 
by Stephanie Rogers 
  
I thought I was going to have a quiet relaxing weekend, not that I was not open to a last-minute invitation for a show or concert.  On Thursday, I read my office e-mail and there was an anonymous invitation to a party Friday night.  It gave the address, said the dress code was tight-fitting athletic clothing, and that one should come masked, not a flimsy mask but one which should hide the identity.  That was it; no name or even e-mail address which I could access.  (There was an address but I was told it was dead when I tried to respond.  THAT should have set off an alarm in my head but it did 
not.) 
I decided to wear a biketard, and showed up at the club as directed.  There were about 30 people inside, all masked, and not too far from an equal male:female ratio.  Free food and open bar!  About an hour into the party, a man made an announcement that the wrestling ring was open in the other room, and that challenges were being accepted with the loser being the winner's slave for the weekend.  Two out of three falls. 
The first few couples did a half-hearted match; it almost seemed like they had already determined the outcome and that they were just playing around. One or two did put a collar and lead on the loser.  When it seemed about over, a tall blonde challenged me.  What a body was poured into her red leotard!  It certainly didn't seem to be anyone I had ever known, even with her face hidden.  What the heck, I thought, I could use someone to give my apartment a good cleaning.  (And, not too far back in my mind, I figured she would probably be a good piece of ass.) 
We climbed into the ring, which was about 1/4 of the standard size.  (After all, someone did have to break it down and carry it in and out of the club.)   The first fall went to me, with a full nelson which she couldn't break. But in the next fall, she gave me a knee in the groin and as I tried to recover from the shock and the pain, she grabbed my left arm, twisted it, tossed me to the mat, and put one foot on my neck and the other under my arm - - and started to twist.  I tried to release myself but to no avail, and realising that I would be at an extreme disadvantage in round 3 if I let her continue, I gave up. 
My arm hurt for round 3 and when she grabbed it and bounced me off the ropes, I fell to the mat and she put a body scissors on me.  Man, were those shapely legs powerful!  I tried to free myself and to hold out but know that all that faced me was more pain, and still a certain loss.  I gave up. 
"Are there any other matches, Charley?"  When he said there were not, she asked if she could use the ring a little farther.  Did she have more punishment for me?  Another round?  No, she flipped me on my stomach and I felt others coming into the ring and stretching me out and then tying me with rope to each of the four corners.  After that was done, my victor produced a leather hood and removed my mask, then placed her hood on my head.  It had no eye holes!  She zipped it up and I felt a collar going 
around my neck and being locked in back. 
"Now let's celebrate!  Drinks are on me." 
Ad to me, she said, "Just relax and ponder what comes next.  You are going to have a rough weekend ahead." 
I tried to think of who might have set me up for this but in my condition, I quickly fell asleep and woke with a start when I received a quick kick in the crotch.  My hands were released, taken behind my back, and handcuffed. Then my feet were released and pulled close enough together for a pair of leg irons.  Then a couple of people stood me up and I felt a leash being snapped onto the front of my collar. 
"By the way, there is a gag for that helmet.  If we need to, se will use it.   The choice is yours." 
I was led outside and when we stopped, I announced that I had to take a piss. 
"We could let him do it right in his unitard.  Wouldn't that be embarrassing?  But since we have to wait for the car, we do have time." 
I was back up to a pole and one ankle unlocked and then relocked.  Then one wrist was unlocked and my arms pulled around the pole and locked.  Then I felt and heard the material on the front of my unitard being cut, and a sudden coolness hit my "private" parts. 
"OK, take your piss. And don't forget to shake it clean." 
I relieved myself and then shook it best as I could; I imagined how funny it must have been to see me and I was very embarrassed to have to pee in front of these women.  
"OK, I have a way to keep him under control." 
I felt a piece of rope being looped around my crotch and then pulled snugly.   When my wrist was unlocked, this time it was relocked in front of me, and then put down below my waist - - where it was held in place by that rope! My wrists were secured to my crotch!!!  No way to move them without making pain for myself in a potentially-painful area. 
"This will be more comfortable for you in the car than having your arms behind you." 
The legirons were brought around from the back of the pole, relocked, and with a tug of the leash, we went a few feet and then I heard a car door open, I was pushed inside, and the door closed. 
I tried to complain and to ascertain who or why or what was all this happening, but the sole response was to remind me to be quiet or the gag would be put in place.  I took the hint and asked no further. 
I lost all track of time and sense of direction during the trip.  I think I dozed off a few times but each bump that made my wrists pull at my crotch rope woke me up.  We arrived somewhere and I was taken out of the car, on a leash, and walked a couple of dozen steps. 
"Here he is." 
"Put him on the bed.  It's late and he'll need his rest." 
It was a voice that I did not recognize from anywhere in my past, but it also sounded like it was faked - - abnormally low. 
My handcuffs were undone from the crotch rope and relocked behind my back. I could feel myself being place against something which was knee-high and then pushed forward onto something soft.  I was pulled forward and my ankles now were undone and resecured once they were spread apart.  Before my wrists were temporarily freed, my top half was lifted up and a pillow put under my pelvis.  Then my handcuffs were unlocked and with an added pair, they were spread out to my sides and locked to what seemed like a bar. 
"Put the gag in.  I don't want him making too much noise." 
The ball gag went into my mouth and was buckled in back. 
"OK, now that you have shown many times in the past that you can dish it out, can you take it?" 
With that, there was a rip in back and my ass was suddenly bare.  And then I felt the bed sink down, as if there was someone else on it.  And my ass cheeks spread out, followed by a cold blob of cream.  My worst fears were realized - - a strap-on dildo slid into my ass and then hit the full length.   I tried to scream but no sound came thru the gag.  I chewed on the gag but it was not going to give way.  In and out and in and out, and then she was done. 
"Anyone else?" 
Two more voices said they would like to try it, and I was subjected to the humiliation and pain for another half hour or so (as I estimated, while cut off from all sense of time and place.)  Then it stopped.  By this time I was crying in my hood 
"That's it for now.  Let him rest.  Tomorrow we prepare him for the party I'm having at night.  He's going to be my maid." 
The gag was removed and I called out to tell them I did not deserve this and to let me go and I would say nothing to the police.  No answer.  I pulled on my wrists but the cuffs were secure.  So were the leg irons connecting each ankle to the bar. 
What did she mean by "dish it out"?  When I had been in the school rugby team, many girls wanted to date me and the dates usually ended up with sex.  They DID want that, didn't they?  It wasn't "date rape," was it? And since I had done that with some of the girls at work . . . . 
Could it possibly be that one of them was getting revenge?  And how pissed off must she be for this kind of revenge? 
The final thought before I dozed off, and I don't know how I managed to sleep with this on my mind - - would she end up castrating me at the end of the weekend? I don't know how I managed to get any sleep, what with my constant worrying about my future, who was doing this to me, and my very sore asshole.  And each time I shifted around, I heard the rattling of chain as the handcuffs and leg irons prevented my from shifting around.  At least I didn't have the pillow under my stomach or the gag in my mouth!  (Be thankful for small favors.) 
I was awakened by a slap on my butt.  With the helmet still on, there was no way of telling what time it was, but I knew that I needed to go to the bathroom. And I said so.  Just like the night before in the wrestling ring, my wrists were locked behind my back and then the leg irons were relocked on my ankles.  I was helped up and then that damn rope was retied around my crotch. 
After a bit of a walk, I was told that I could now pee.  When the stream finished, they told me that they would do the shaking for me - - and the rope was tugged back and forth.  I'd rather have done it myself, but there was no way I'd offer that opinion.  Then back to the bed, where I was laid on my back and rechained like for the night. 
"You are to be our maid tonight.  We are having a party for you to be the server and the clean-up person.  You will be dressed in the regular maid's outfit, with white knee socks and short skirt." 
The a new voice.  "Yes, but what do you do about his male parts if he is supposed to be a she?" 
"Good point.  I think we have three choices.  Remove them, hide them, or do like a bad drag job, letting them show." 
I'd certainly vote for the latter two but didn't dare say so. 
"First of all, in any case we need to shave his body. Leg never look good with hair sticking out from them." 
With that, my bottom was lifted up and a pillow put under it, leaving my crotch up in the air like my ass had been the night before. 
"Now we are going to remove your helmet so you can see your penis, maybe for the last time.  But the gag will be put in." 
And before I had a chance to say much, the switch was made.  I couldn't see much of the room because two bright lights were directly over my body, like in an operating room.  There were 4-5 women nearby, all of them masked like I had been.  And dressed in tight figure latex or leather. 
I watched as they started to snip away at my pubic hair with scissors. (This was preceded by a warning not to flinch or there might be some damage done!)  When the hair was reduced to stubble, one of them short shaving cream from a bomb all over my lower half and the crew started in with safety razors, one on each leg and two on my pubic area.  I would say that they were more efficient than gentle, but there were no nicks or cuts.  Could they have done this before? 
I was watching all of this, more or less fascinated.  Or was I looking out for the welfare of my little friend?  There was certainly nothing I could do to help protect him!  When they finished, a damp rag was run all over the area they had cut and, like at a barber shop, a mirror held up so I could see the finished result.  If I didn’t have the gag in my mouth, would I have complimented them?  I rather doubt it as they could have taken it as sarcasm and done me harm. 
Once I dried, one of them took a strap with a bump and showed it to me. 
"This is something new that we have worked on.  It will keep you under our control without the need for handcuffs or leg irons, though we will still use them for extra security, as well as for show." 
She reached down and put the thing around my no-longer-private parts, pulled it very snug, and then fiddled with it as locking it. 
"This is a remote control unit.  I'll give you a demonstration of what setting number one is like.  It goes up to ten." 
With that, she pushed a button and a surge of electricity attacked my balls.  I muffled a cry in my gag.  The pain was very unsettling.  And when she switched it to setting two, it was uncomfortable. 
"Get the idea?  You can't get this off without castrating yourself.  And we will not hesitate to use it if you misbehave.  And you only experienced the first two settings.  Think of what number five would feel like?  The pain would instantly paralyze you, so don't take a chance." 
I said something which didn't come out through the gag.  Maybe she figured out what it was because she followed up with, 
"You are probably thinking that you have nothing to lose by rushing for the control.  First of all, there are two controls and you might get only one of them before you are zapped.  Secondly, this foolhardy action would not be to save your life.  You will be released at the end of the weekend, just like the slave-for-a-weekend deal said you would be.  Intact but a little worse for wear." 
I mumbled something like "thank you."  Imagine, thank you! 
"Now it's time we go shopping for your maid's outfit for tonight." 
I was standing there totally naked, except for the restraints I was wearing.  The unitard, or what remained of it, had been cut off before the shaving began.  I was taken to a full-length mirror to see the extent of the "improvement" - - their words.  How funny it was to see my poor little friend without any hair around him.  Even more vulnerable than he had been. 
With a warning/reminder about the newly installed thing under my balls, my wrists and ankles were released.  I immediately reached down to my crotch and confirmed that that thing was there to stay, unless I got myself castrated.  What a great option! 
After some breakfast, we prepared for the shopping trip.  I was given some plastic panties to wear and then a pair of white shorts and T-shirt; they wanted something easy for me to remove in the store.  Then the hood was replaced so I was unable to see where we were going. 
So I don't know what the store was but they explained to the clerk that they wanted white knee socks and a black maids uniform in my size.  I was handed the knee socks and told to put them on; I asked to be guided to the dressing room but was told that I didn't need it.  So I removed the shorts - - and heard a titer of laughter at the sight of my plastic panties.  Then the dress, one of them zipped it up the back and asked me to move around to check the fit.  I admit it was comfortable but sized so my panties were visible! 
The afternoon was spent cleaning the house for the party.  I was still in my maid's outfit and wore leg irons. No helmet, only the collar.  I was not masked, the girls were. 
When it came time for the party, I was told to strip and take a shower. With the soap as lubricant, I tried again to slip off the thing on my crotch but to no avail. 
Then the plastic panties this time with a diaper and the uniform dress went back on. 
“Those will keep you clean wont they,” she said gripping my little friend under the skirt. 
Then restraints went back on.  Legirons, collar (locked to zipper on the dress), a wide leather belt with rings on the sides, and handcuffs on each wrist, with the chain padlocked to those belt rings.  I felt at least I had one plus, that the helmet would hide my identity. 
Guess again, Roger.  I was to remain uncovered but all the others were to be 
masked.  I was handed a long tray to hold with finger food and told that my duty was to stand and serve.  And to keep my in my place, a short chain from the back of my collar was attached to an eyelet on the wall.  (They talked about attaching another chain to the thing under my crotch but that would be difficult with me wearing plastic panties and a diaper.) 
And then the doorbell rang..............