Having Trish for Dinner.

Trish’s eyes fluttered open. She was dazed and confused. The last thing she remembered was being at a party. What happened after that? She felt groggy, and her head hurt. Where was she? The only lighting in the room was a dim light swinging on the ceiling. It was dangling relatively low. In fact, if she stood on the tips of her toes, she might have been able to actually touch it with her fingertips.

“I need to stop drinking,” she muttered to herself, rubbing her eyes.

She stumbled into a standing position and observed her surroundings. She found herself in a dark, gloomy room. The entire room was made of concrete, and it was dreadfully cold. There were no windows, and there was only one steel door in a corner.

“Let’s try this,” she sighed, walking over to the door.

To her dismay, the steel door was locked. She pounded on it. Hopefully, someone would hear her from the other side. She had no idea where she was. All she could remember was that she had been completely drunk. She must have passed out, but why was she here?

“Somebody help me!” she bawled in a desperate voice, pounding on the steel door again, “I am trapped in this room!”

Her pounding echoed. It was creepy in a way. She stopped pounding. It didn’t seem to be doing much good. She was not used to being ignored. She had never been in a situation where she did not get her way instantly. Her parents were very wealthy. She was perhaps the hottest, little, blonde girl in her high school. She was always dating and hanging with the popular guys.

She was a senior in high school and a relatively attractive young girl. She had curves that everyone noticed. Her ass was very thick, well-shaped, round, and plush. She never hesitated to swing it around as she walked, taunting every guy that saw her. Her skin was a slightly tan color. It was very smooth and soft. Her lips were well-formed and pouty, surrounded by full cheeks. Her thighs were also very thick and supple, and she did not bother showing them off as well with miniskirts. Her breasts were huge, large, and firm, and she always wore tight shirts so as to squeeze them together, causing any male that glanced at her cleavage to have an instant erection.

She felt a shiver run down her spine. It was way too cold in this gloomy room. She looked down and noticed that her attire had changed. At the party, she had been dressed in a pair of jeans and a ordinary shirt. She was now clad in a skimpy schoolgirl’s outfit, complete with a short plaid miniskirt that only covered one third of her round ass, lace panties, knee-high stockings, a button-down shirt, and a necktie. Her hair was also in pigtails.

“What the fuck?” she stammered, “Who the fuck dressed me in this?”

It wasn’t that she looked bad in this particular outfit. In fact, she looked rather hot in it. She just didn’t know who had put the clothes on her. The small shirt clenched her busty breasts together, the short skirt revealed her beautifully sculpted thighs, and the pigtails made her look all the more cute. Her curves were clearly outlined by the tight clothing.

“Somebody help me! Please!” she yelled, banging on the steel door.

The cold was beginning to get to her. She wrapped her arms around her body, squishing her breasts further together. Her soft skin felt numb, her teeth were chattering, and she felt as if she was freezing.

“Will somebody open this door!” she wailed at the top of her lungs.

As if to answer her, the door popped open, and two huge men in ski masks walked into the room. Before she could think of anything to say, Trish was forced face-first onto the ground. She struggled, but the men held her tight in the face-down position.

“What is this?” Trish screamed, “Let go of me! Where am I? Let me go!”

Her pleas were useless, and her struggling even more so. The two masked men had her arms pinned behind her back. The cold floor smothered Trish’s breasts, which were pinned very tightly against the concrete tiles. All she could do was kick her legs.

She watched as a third masked man entered the room. He was pushing a wheeled table in front of him. From her position on the floor, she could not tell what was on the table. It looked like one of the tables that doctors kept their utensils on. She struggled some more, but the two men held her in place.

Following the third masked man was an obese man in a detective’s coat. His entire body was covered by the huge coat, but his face was clearly visible. He was a rather ugly man. He had warts across his face, a giant nose with hairs sticking out of the nostrils, and crooked yellow teeth. His bald head gleamed in the dim light. He looked familiar to Trish for some odd reason.

“Tie her arms behind her back and her ankles together,” the ugly bald man ordered.

One of the masked men that was holding Trish down produced a long, thick piece of rope. He fastened Trish’s arms behind her back firmly and tightly. She squirmed around, but it was useless. The knots were tight. He brought her kicking legs to a forceful halt and tied the ankles together as well. Then, leaving some rope, the three men left. They locked the door behind them.

“Who are you?” Trish demanded, “Let me go!”

The ugly man cackled with a sinister grin. Trish tried to climb to her feet, but with her arms behind her back and her ankles tied together, it was impossible. She just stayed in that position, face-first into the ground. Her nipples were beginning to feel extremely numb from the cold concrete floor.

“Who are you?” she yipped again, glaring up at the ugly man.

“My name is John McCoy,” the hideous man laughed, “And you are Trish Clover. I visited your school sometime back. I am a representative for Blankton University. You remember me now?”

At that instant, it all came rushing back to Trish. Blankton had been her dream school since she was a little girl. Of course, when a representative visited her high school, she was the first to ask questions. This man was the man that had visited her school. He had seemed very interested in her, asking her many questions.

“Did you ever wonder why a representative from one of the top schools in the nation would be so interested in a girl with such mediocre grades?” the old man laughed.

“Because,” Trish began.

“Surely, you did not think that Blankton actually wanted you,” John smirked, “We are ranked very high. Why would we want a girl with such a poor performance in school?”

Trish had not really thought about it. She had always wanted to go there. It was a little odd that such a prestigious school would be interested in a girl with her academic performance. John had seemed interested in her, but she had not really thought about why he had been.

“I just wanted to get your personal information,” John chuckled, “I wanted your name, your address, and so on. You know why?”

Trish was stunned and in disbelief.

“I wanted you!” he answered his own question, “You see, I am part of an exclusive club. It is for the people that are more wealthy than most. Basically, it is a club for rich people. You know what this club does?”

“I don’t care!” Trish cried, “Just let me go! Please! Let me go!”

“Our club is for rich people that are angry and need to get stress out in some way. We pay a monthly fee, and in return, we get to have innocent people trapped in these cold, concrete rooms,” he smiled, “And we get to torture them!”

Trish eyes lit up with horror.

“And for a higher price, we can pick the gender of our victim,” John grinned, “Some of the club members like to torture people to get anger out of their system. In which case, gender is not a big factor at all. I, on the other hand, like to torture young girls because it turns me on!”

“Don’t!” Trish cried, “Please! Don’t hurt me!”

“And for a higher price,” John continued to explain, “We get to select the victim’s age and race. For an even higher price, we get to pick a specific person. The moment I saw you, I knew that I had to have you inside of this chamber. That outfit? It was my selection. You like my taste, sweetie?”

Tears streamed down Trish’s beautiful checks. She could not believe this was happening. What was going on here? This couldn’t be real. She struggled to get into a standing position. It was still impossible. Every time she made the slightest bit of progress, John pushed her back down with his foot.

“Don’t be afraid,” John whispered in a taunting voice, “I am only here to have some fun with you, Trish.”

“No!” Trish screamed, “You will go to jail for this! Let me go! Please! I promise I won’t tell anyone!”

“Hush, little baby,” John sang softly.

Her begs did not help her situation. In fact, those begs for mercy only turned the sick bastard on more. John’s cock was growing hard. Trish could clearly see the huge erection pushing outward on the detective’s coat. It was throbbing with intensity.

“Let me go!” Trish helplessly demanded, squirming on the ground.

John grabbed Trish by her right arm, pulling her into a standing position. He brought her body very close to his body with her back to him. Her ass sunk into his crotch. The warmth turned him on. She felt the bulk grow, pressing into her plush ass. She closed her eyes, hoping and praying that this was all just a bad dream.

“Oh, baby!” John moaned, “You are so fucking sexy.”

His left hand reached over her body, forcing its way between her fastened legs and grabbing her inner thigh. It felt so warm and inviting. He gripped it, squeezing it roughly. His right arm held her body close to his body by wrapping around her waist. She squirmed a bit, but there was very little she could do while tied up. He sunk his face into the side of her neck, inhaling heavily.

“You smell nice,” he moaned, “You know, Trish, most people like to muffle their victims. Most people like to gag them, tape their mouth shut, or do something to stop their screams. I don’t. I love your screams. Scream for me, bitch!”

His left hand slid up her thick thigh and underneath her white, lace panties. He gripped tightly on her pussy lips, scrunching her privates with his fist. Her eyes were still closed, and tears were pouring down her cheeks. She felt his hand twisting her pussy lips around, gripping and pinching the outer vagina. The tight grip of his fist hurt.

“Ouch! Stop it!” she screamed.

“Sweetie, you are bound and tied up in a concrete cell with a crazed rapist,” John whispered, “I’m going to hurt you. I am going to hang you up and whip you raw! No one will ever find you!”

His grip tightened on her pussy. He was twisting it harder than ever now. Pain ran through her body. She was in a helpless situation. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks. John chuckled and licked them from her face. He began kissing all over her neck. She felt his crotch grow in size, pushing against her thick bottom.

“Oh, it is time!” John sneered.

“Huh?” Trish exclaimed.

Before she knew it, John had spun her body around. She was now facing John. He was still holding her body close to his. His right arm wrapped around her small of her lower back, keeping her pushed against his body.