Abucted Cheerleaders by Mistress Mattie
It was Friday night after the football game. Gina and I were waiting for my Mom to pick us up in front of the school. It was getting late and we were the only ones left. It was not like Mom to be late. Gina and I were seniors at Grant High School and we both turned eighteen this past September. We were excited that we made the varsity cheerleader squad this year. We were dressed in our little navy blue, gold, and white uniforms over gold panties, which we girls affectionately refereed to as “goldies.” Although our tops were made of a warm knitted material and had long sleeves we began to feel cold as it got later.
Gina was a slim, petite girl. She had long light brown hair, which she wore in a ponytail, and she had soft blue eyes. Her skin was unblemished and she had full, bee sting lips. She had a small bosom and a perfectly round little ass. As for me, I stood about three inches taller than Gina and had little more meat on my bones. I was a buxom brunette with long dark brown hair and hazel eyes. My hair was thick and full, which I liked to leave down and natural. I developed early and was blessed with large breasts, which the boys loved to stare at. I had a nice hourglass figure. My hips were a bit wide and I had full, yet firm butt. I was not fat, or even plump by any means, but my blue and gold pleated uniform skirt draped over and barely covered the slightly pronounced curve of my behind. The boys loved to watch my ass when I cheered.
I searched my purse for some change to give Mom a call at the payphone nearby. I scrounged up thirty-five cents and as I picked up the receiver of the payphone, I spotted Mom’s white mini-van coming down the street. There was a dark, shadowy figure next to her in the passenger seat. As she came closer, I saw that it was a man. He wore dark sunglasses, which was peculiar being that it was so late at night.
“Beth, who is that guy with your Mom?” Gina asked.
“I have no idea. I never saw him before in my life.”
Mom pulled up and unlocked the sliding side door. She did not get out to open the door like she usually did. Mom looked kind of nervous. I slid open the door and Gina and I hopped in the back seat of the van. I sat behind Mom and slid the door closed. Mom was still dressed in her work attire. She had on a black knee length skirt and a red, long sleeved, silk blouse. With the exception of her long bangs, her lovely dark brown hair was pulled back in a bun. It appeared to be mussed up though. Mom was meticulous about her appearance and would not be caught dead in public looking so shabbily. She usually made it a habit to wear pantyhose or stockings when she wore dresses or skirts, but her smooth shapely legs were bare. Mom was thirty-nine years old, but she was still attractive a youthful looking. People always mistook us for sisters. Her hair was thinner and shorter than mine was and she had big, beautiful, brown eyes. She had a smaller frame than I did. I was slightly taller than she was, but like me, she was well endowed on top. I guess I inherited my large boobs from her.
Mom turned back to me as I fastened my seatbelt. “Beth, this is my cousin Joe from Chicago.” Said Mom nervously, “He-he was in town and happened to stop by for a surprise visit.”
“Hi cousin Joe.” I said. He nodded and did not speak.
“Hello Joe, I’m Gina, Beth’s friend.” Said Gina politely. Joe rudely ignored her. Gina looked over at me with a raised brow. I was sure she greeted him loud enough for him to hear her. I never knew Mom had a cousin named Joe. We did have relatives in Chicago though. I guessed him to be a distant cousin and the way Mom was acting, I didn’t think the surprise visit was all that welcomed. He was a strange looking guy. He appeared to be about 45 years old. He was tall and husky, maybe 6′-4″ and 265 pounds. He had jet-black hair, which he slicked back and thick dark eyebrows. His complexion was ruddy and his face was severely pockmarked. He was dressed in a black trench coat, with the collar raised to partially cover his homely face. He clutched a black leather bag upon his lap. It was the type of a bag that an old fashioned doctor would carry while making house calls. I didn’t like the vibe I was getting from him.
Mom pulled away from the curb and drove down the street. She turned south on the main highway out of town. We lived in the opposite direction. Gina was going to sleep over our house that night. We drove along in awkward silence. Something was up.
“Mom? Where are we going?” I asked.
“Well dear…I have bring Joe to see a friend.” She glanced over at Joe with a worried expression. Joe nodded in agreement. He had his arms folded in front of him and beneath his left armpit I saw a shiny black cylindrical object. I looked closer and saw that it was the barrel of a revolver pointed at Mom! My heart jumped.
“Mom? W-what’s going on here?” I asked. Then Joe suddenly whipped around in his seat and thrust the gun between my parted knees. The front sight of the gun nicked the inside of my left knee. Instinctively, I slammed my legs shut. The barrel was cold as it came in contact with my warm inner thighs. It was pointed right at my crotch. I froze in complete shock.
“Listen here you little bitch! Shut up and do everything I say and no one will get hurt.” He yelled fiercely. The muscles in his face grew taught and veins bulged in his neck. I was shaking terribly and only managed to shake my head yes in acknowledgement. Gina stared in horror with her mouth agape. She was scared speechless. Joe pulled the gun away and poked it into Mom’s ribs. “Drive!” He shouted. Mom said nothing and obeyed by driving along the dark highway out of town.
We pulled into an old industrial complex several miles outside the city limits near the county line. We parked behind an abandoned warehouse that used to house a machine shop. Joe ordered us out of the van and took us into the warehouse. Once inside, he closed the heavy door and latched it behind him. He placed a heavy lock on the latch and secured it. We were now locked in this dark and eerily empty warehouse with this crazed maniac. We were miles away from the nearest home, farm, or business. And with Joe armed with a gun, screaming or running would have been futile.
The warehouse was cold and damp. It smelled musty and dirty. The interior was dark and grimy. Trash, debris, rusted machinery, discarded tools and empty beer cans littered the area. Rats could be heard scurrying about. Gina shrieked as one ran across her foot. Joe brought us to the main floor, where he turned on a small desk lamp that stood on a metal table. It had no lampshade and the dusty old bulb dispersed a dingy yellow light throughout a small section of the main warehouse floor. Here, Joe pulled out thin leather straps from his doctor bag and ordered Mom to tie me and Gina’s hands in front of us. She secured us tightly as Joe supervised. Mom begged Joe to do what he wanted with her, but to leave us girls alone. He responded with a swift back handed slap to her cheek. She stumbled back and put a hand up to her face. She began to weep at the hopelessness of the situation.