Doll Escape by Silenceyoursword
A throbbing at the back of her skull, vaguely reminiscent of a hangover but a hair more polite, roused Penny back into consciousness. She groaned and tried to grimace . . . only to discover there was something round and rubbery in her mouth, held in by a leather strap that snagged at her hair as she lifted her head. ‘So,’ she thought, ‘It’s happened again, has it? What is this time, a warehouse or a . . .’ the close metal walls and rough plastic flooring definitely belonged to a van. As she turned her body, she was able to get a fair grasp on her other- she sighed heavily. “Cnn N n’t kmm’ mn clmophs juff’ unf?” She softly asked no one in particular, not that anyone could have understood. She’d been stuffed into what seemed like an ensemble all made to fit together; high, laced ballet boots over hip-length latex stockings, of all things, connected via garters to a black faux-leather corset with a boxtie binder over top. No bra, no decent closed front, not even so much a thong covering her nethers. Typical.
She took another look around at a quiet sound of voices, spotting a crack of light around the back door of the van. It was open, and near as she could tell there weren’t any chains or a leash holding her to the bench . . . ‘They cannot be this dumb’, she thought as she bent her ear to listen to the conversation.
“. . . So watcha think? She gonna fetch a good sum or what?”
“‘Course she is, did you see those tits? And hell, we’ll make back twice what that gear cost if we throw it in; it fits her like a glove.”
‘Sure it does,’ Penny winced. The corset was drawn too tight and the boots pinched her feet, but she had to admit the binder was quite snug.
“She should still be out, right? I could use a bite to eat.”
“Yeah, and even if she does wake up she ain’t goin’ anywhere in those boots. She’ll just end up flat on ‘er arse, and when we come back we’ll give her a good spanking for her trouble.” With snide guffaws and the thudding of boots on what sounded like asphalt, the two goons left.
‘Flat on my arse, eh?’ Penny would have smirked were it not for the ball in her mouth. The boots would be irritating, sure, but she had more experience in ballet boots than she thought any kidnapper would bet on, ‘though that brings up the question of why my legs aren’t tied together instead of being crammed into these blasted things . . .’ Chalking it up to men thinking with the wrong head as usual, she carefully and quietly got to her feet. She had to be a little bent over in the cramped van, and wobbled a bit until she got a handle on the metal-shod boots. She carefully tottered over to the cracked-open doors, making as little noise as the metal boots on the hard van floor would allow, then braced her shoulder against the door and pushed. It was a creaky old thing, and she winced as it squealed open far enough to let her through, but no shouts came from outside so she guessed the guards were gone. With the utmost care, she used the side of the van to slide to it’s floor, then swung her legs out onto the ground and got back up.
Looking around, Penny quickly realized where she was. It was a slum, a down-and-out district she’d been to before in similar circumstances. Before anything else, she had to get out of sight of the van. The boot heels were capped with rubber, so it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, and she managed to stumble her way around a corner in reasonable time and lean against the crumbling brick wall to catch her breath. She spared a thought for the binder; it really was very nice, and all this leaning and rubbing would do a number on it, but she couldn’t worry about that now. ‘Can’t let them find me,’ she thought. There wouldn’t be a second chance; no one was that stupid. ‘I need to get away. Get to somewhere there are people . . .’ or at least a street she recognized. Taking another moment to catch her breath- ‘Damn this corset, you’d think they never laced a girl up before!’- she began the slow, careful journey out of the alley.
It took a little doing because of the old buildings being crammed together at odd angles, but she found a way out. She paused, leaning against the last corner before the way out, and decided to take one last stab at struggling out of the jacket. She grunted and huffed into the ballgag, cheeks going red both from the exertion and a little arousal she couldn’t quite stymie. ‘This thing is so damn tight. No way I’m going to be able to struggle out of it on my own!’ Which meant . . . she would have to go out there without her modesty or one of Charlotte’s illusions and hope for the best. In one of the seediest places she knew of. With as heavy a sigh as the corset would allow, she straightened her back and prepared to head out into the street.
It only took a few steps into the opening to discover that there wasn’t anyone on the street. The sky was dark and the streetlights, most of them at least, were on, so it was late evening or very early morning. Something in the feel of the air said evening to her. She looked right and left and right again as she stepped out onto the sidewalk, keeping an eye out for someone walking along or a lit doorstep she might be able to find help in. A cold, twisting breeze flew down the street, making her bite down on the gag as it played around her exposed body. “Nnnh!” ‘As if I didn’t have enough to deal with!’ She soldiered on, trying to get as much distance out of each step as she could.
It was about a half a block later, after she ducked into a doorway to avoid getting spotted by what must have been one of the men from the van from the way he was shouting, that she finally encountered someone else. There was a gasp behind her and the sound of something hitting the ground, and she stumbled in her haste to turn around and see who it was. A young lady with curly black hair, wearing a beige trenchcoat, stood there, large blue eyes wide and hands to her mouth, a small purse on the ground at her feet. For a couple heartbeats, both women stood frozen in place, until the stranger found her voice. “M . . . miss? Are you all right?”
‘Do I look all right?’ Penny thought furiously. ‘What kind of inane question is that?!’
Perhaps her expression managed to convey as much, because the woman blushed and bent to pick up her purse. She looked up and down the street, then put a hand in her pocket and brought out a set of keys. “This is my building, I can help you. You’ll be okay, just hurry- as much as you can.”
With a grunt of acknowledgement, Penny shuffled along behind the woman as she entered the building. It was actually kind of nice inside, with warm-colored lights and what was probably a brightly colored rug in its heyday. The hallway was lined with doors either side, and only three or four in the woman pulled to the right and let Penny into a small, sort of cozy studio apartment. Were it larger, it would have been sparsely furnished; a twin bed, a desk and a single chair, and a bookcase so large that Penny had to wonder how it had made it inside, stuffed with all sorts of large engineering manuals and secondhand college textbooks, along with randomly inserted paperback novels of equally random kind. The woman set down her purse and dug in her pockets. “Okay, all I have to do is call the police and y-”
“Nnh! Hm-mmn!” Penny shook her head emphatically.
“What?” The woman looked up from the flip phone in her hand. “Why not?” Penny tried to explain, but after a few seconds of nonsensical grunting she huffed and tottered close to her, then turned her head and leaned in. “Wh- oh. You want me to . . .” The woman reached for Penny’s gag and fiddled with the strap for a few seconds, then managed to get it unbuckled and carefully took it out of her mouth.
“Mmn- ah . . .” Penny swallowed and took a deep breath. “Oh, that’s better. Listen, the lowlifes that did this are long gone if they’ve found me missing, and police will only make a fuss and take pictures for evidence and such.” She let the implication sink in a moment, and when a pink blush rose in the other woman’s cheeks she continued. “The point is, it won’t solve anything. I have a friend who can get me home and out of this; we can call her instead and then this’ll all be over. All right?”
The woman nodded slowly, her expression wry and a little confused. “So, then, what’s the number?” Penny told her and she dialed, then held the phone up for her. It rang a few times, then-
“Hello, this is Charlotte. May I ask who’s calling?”
Penny’s shoulders would have slumped in relief if the binder would let her. “Charlotte! Honey, it’s me, I’m okay.”
“Penny?! Where have you been, what happened? It’s so late!” Detached politeness gave way to worry as Charlotte recognized her.
“I got kidnapped-” she spared an awkward glance for her rescuer- “again. I’m in the district out east. Remember last summer?”
There was a pause. “I think so. Do you have an address?” Penny glanced to the woman, who supplied one that Penny repeated for Charlotte. “Okay, okay, I can be there in . . . twenty minutes, I think. Will you be okay until then?”
“I think so. I’m not hurt or anything like that, just a bit- tied up.” There was no sound from the other end, but she could practically hear Charlotte’s mind shifting gears into wondering exactly how.
“Okay, I’ll be there soon. I love you.”
“I love you too.” The line clicked, and the woman shut the phone before putting it away.
“I can get something to cover you up until your fr- your girlfriend gets here,” the woman offered. She pulled out the chair from the desk and turned it so Penny could sit down.
“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Penny smiled gratefully and sat down, groaning softly at being able to get weight off her pinched toes.
A few moments later, her hostess swung a blanket around her shoulders like a barber’s cloth and tucked it in. “Is there anything else you need? Maybe something to drink?”
“No, no, thank you,” Penny shook her head, then blushed slightly and bit her lip. “Actually, could you . . . Can you put the gag back in while we wait?”