Sold, Packaged, and Shipped

Chapter 5: A Shower and Breakfast but no Freedom

Chapter 5: A Shower and Breakfast but no Freedom

Late that morning, Arnie had come into the bedroom, flipped on the light and announced “up and at ’em.” He was not greeted warmly.

Before falling asleep earlier that morning, Darlene had talked to Melinda, apologizing for the situation they were in, telling her that she should take heart, that they would be rescued - although she failed to identify who was going to do it or when. Melinda, having had the gag left in as a punishment for her struggles, did not reply. In the darkness, after Darlene had run out of encouraging words to say, she heard her daughter crying and felt like doing the same herself.

Both of them blinked at the sudden light. “Please,” moaned Darlene, “get these ropes off. I can’t feel my hands. I hurt all over.”

Arnie, in cheerful spirits, lifted Melinda’s chin so he could look her in the eyes, and said, “You have a nice little sleep? Oh, my, it looks like you been crying. Now, before I give you breakfast, you want to promise that if I take the gag out, you’ll be quiet and not make no fuss?” RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Melinda, who had actually gotten very little sleep, what with the pains from the tight ropes and all, plus terribly aching jaw muscles from having that rubber ball crammed into her mouth all night, nodded. To get that damned gag out, she probably would have promised anything, even her first born - should there ever be one.

Arnie grunted and unstrapped the gag. He had to pull it out of her mouth; it was stuck. She moaned for a while, but even when her jaw stopped aching terribly, she said not a word. This young woman was so very scared that she was in almost constant fear.

Arnie began untying the ropes that were holding Melinda down to the bed frame. He took his time, carefully untying each knot, then coiling up the rope and putting it on a peg on the wall. When he had

all the ropes gone save for those holding her arms together behind her back, he brought out a pair of handcuffs and locked them on her wrists and another pair on her ankles. Only then did he remove the rest of the ropes. There were deep indentations and redness where the ropes had dug into her flesh. From her moaning, he could tell she was feeling the torment of returning circulation. Arnie was something of an expert at this binding of females. Tight enough to hurt, to be absolutely secure and escape-proof, but not so tight as to cause permanent damage.

Darlene’s ropes were removed next, accompanied by the handcuffs on her wrists and ankles. She whined as her hands came back to life and some tears rolled down her cheeks. He waited patiently until he thought they had recovered enough to walk, then grabbed a bare arm on each and bid them follow him from the room.

Walking on ankles joined by normal handcuffs was hard. The short chain between them allowed for only very short steps and the hard metal snubbed the ankles with each one. It took them a while to learn how to walk without hurting themselves.

The first order of business was a bathroom. It was a very normal bathroom, save for one ring screwed into a wall near the door. There was a short chain and a padlock sitting on the counter. It took only a few seconds for him to circle Melinda’s neck with the chain and lock her to the wall. She could stand there, but not move her neck more than a couple inches from the wall.

He then pulled back the shower curtain and lifted Darlene into the tub. She stood there, naked and handcuffed, not quite believing what was happen to her. He turned on the water. The nozzle blasted cold water onto her. She cried out and would have fallen from her reaction to the icy water had not Arnie expected that and held her arm. He adjusted the water until the stream was comfortably warm. Then he took a washcloth and a bar of soap in his hands.

“You’re not going to do that, are you?” gasped Darlene.

“Sure am! You want to be clean, don’t you?”

“But I don’t want to be touched by a man!”

“You one of them lez gals?” he asked. “Most women like a man touching them.” He was starting at the top, washing her neck and face. He was gentle about it, and made sure she closed eyes so as not to get soap in them. Then he began working down her body, soaping then rinsing. As he massaged her breasts considerably more than needed to assure their cleanliness, he commented, “Now don’t that feel good? ’Course it does. I used to wash my wife like this all the time - ’til she run off with that no good Carl Benson. I heard he lost a lot of money in the dot com stocks, whatever that was. Served him right. I kinda liked that woman.”

When he was finished with her feet, he turned off the water and began toweling her down.

This was a very new experience for Darlene Fisher, standing naked and shackled while a strange man touched her body all over. He had taken liberties with her sexual parts, but oddly enough was no rougher than her husband had been with his groping, especially when he got drunk. She would not come out and say it, but in a way it was pleasant. Her husband would never have considered doing that for her. Still, she repressed the urge to thank him when he was finished and had lifted her out of the tub.

As he unlocked Melinda’s neck, Darlene was shuffling over to take her place without orders. She knew that this man would want her chained to the wall while he showered Melinda, so why fight him?

Melinda squirmed as he picked up her body and set it down in the tub. “Why can’t you just unlock my hands and let me do it?” she demanded. “Leave my feet locked and I can’t get away.”

“Would you deny an old man a few simple pleasures?” he said. “Just a little grab here and a rub there. ’Tain’t much, after all.”

The water, now cooler than it had been, blasted over her nudity, evoking a cry of distress. But the water resumed its former temperature, and quickly enough Melinda was having the first bathing done for her since she was a baby. She did not like it then, and she did not like it now. After several protests, including choice words that a young lady should not know, he finally told her, “Shut up, or I’ll shove this soap in your mouth and tie it in. Make for a good gag for a foul mouth like you.”

She must have thought he would do it, because she shut up. But she still made it obvious she did not like it.

With both of them dried off and nice and clean, he directed them to shuffle back into the bedroom. There, he made each sit on their beds. He unlocked the handcuff from Melinda’s feet. As soon as the last cuff was off, she tried to kick him in the head. It might have worked, but for the fact he was expecting it and caught her ankle in one strong hand. He then pulled her leg around and put the ankle down on the metal bar across the foot of the bed. Reaching down with the other hand, he grabbed her other ankle and brought them together on the bar. Before she could react, he was wrapping rope around her ankles and the bar, securing her feet solidly to the foot of the bed. When her ankles were tightly bound to the bar, he tied it off and then went to Darlene’s side.

“You gonna try to kick me, too?” he asked.

“No. I’m hungry. You said you would feed us.”

“I did and I will. Now put your feet up on the bed here.” He removed the handcuffs and bound her ankles to the bar as solidly as Melinda’s were. Then he patted her on the knee and told her to wait right here, that he would be back. Before leaving, he took some time to ogle the two pubic patches on display. “You’re different,” he said, as if surprised. “You’re blonde,” he said pointing to Melinda. “And you’re brunette. Oh, guess that’s ‘cause you ain’t real mom and daughter. Just step mom. Or something.” Then he left them.

Alone, but each bound to a bed, Melinda immediately started to struggle. She tried to reach down with her hands to the ropes on her ankles. But even with bending her legs she could not quite reach them.

“Damn that man!” she cried in frustration. “I’ll kick that asshole right in the balls! I’m going to enjoy seeing him fry in the electric chair!”

Darlene did not bother to point out that the electric chair had been replaced by lethal injection years before. She lay back and listened to her stomach making gurgling noises while she awaited breakfast.

Arnie came back ten minutes later, carrying a tray in each hand. The smell of fried eggs and bacon made both women sit up and pay attention. He put the trays down and unlocked each set of handcuffs. As both sat there, rubbing their wrists, he offered them each a tray of food. Darlene gladly took hers and began eating. Melinda glared at him and looked for a moment as if she would like to knock the tray out of his hand. But then she took the tray and set it down on her legs.

Both of them ate from trays setting on bare legs. The food was of good quality, if not over abundant. The eggs were fried, the bacon crisp and the toast came with a small disk of butter and jelly. The utensils were a plastic fork and knife, both small and totally useless as weapons. The plates were paper and not good even for throwing. He came back in a minute later with a glass of orange juice for each.

When they had finished, he took each plastic tray and set them down on the floor. Then he replaced the handcuffs on each woman, but in front not behind them. A short chain was then used to secure their hands up to the bar across the top of the bed. When both of them were stretched out on the bed, he told them he would be back in an hour or so. He left the light on when he closed the door.

“What are we going to do?” pleaded Melinda. “This guy’s crazy! He can’t keep us prisoners here!”

“He seems to be doing a good job of it so far,” Darlene pointed out. “Don’t get yourself all riled up. We’ll play along and wait for a chance. He’ll make a mistake sooner or later.”

“When he does, I’m going to enjoy beating the shit out of him with a baseball bat,” Melinda insisted.

Darlene sighed and closed her eyes. Being clean and having a meal in your stomach makes most anything seem not so bad. Little did she know what was in store for them.