The last thing I expected to get for Christmas was kidnapped.
Partly because I’m Jewish. But also because who expects to get kidnapped? They don’t give you notes about these things in advance, so you can jot them down in your Bullet Journal.
Tuesday evening—drinks with family at ice hotel, get distracted by northern lights on walk back to room, have burlap sack thrown over your head, and get injected with something that knocks you out until you wake up in a closet God-knows-how-much-later with a killer headache.
Or at least, I don’t think they give you notes for that. This was my first time being kidnapped, though, so I wasn’t exactly an expert.
When I woke up in the closet, I had no idea what time it was, how long I’d been out, or where the hell I even was. There was a blindfold over my eyes—an honest-to-goodness blindfold, like the kind you see in old movies—and I had a gag in my mouth, and let me tell you, none of that was as fun as it looks in porn.
Of course, if it had been porn, the gag would have been some hot burly guy’s jockstrap and it would have tasted like man-sweat and pheromones, and not like deviled eggs left sitting out on a picnic table for three days. Make that number one on my list of complaints.
Well, number two. Because I should probably put getting kidnapped in the first place at number one.
I only knew it was a closet because of the overpowering smell of chemicals and cleaning fluid, and because I discovered, as I explored it, that the space wasn’t large enough for me to lie flat in. I had to sort of thwop my body against the walls and shelves, trying to gauge the size of the room, because my hands were cuffed behind my back, and my legs didn’t seem to understand the signals my brain was sending and flopped around like dying fish when I tried to get them to move.
I wasn’t a complete stranger to handcuffs. I’d lost my virginity to this guy who worked for my dad’s company when I was in high school, and after a few initial vanilla encounters, he’d asked if I were interested in spicing things up a bit.
Of course I’d said yes. I’d just turned eighteen three weeks prior and the guy was the textbook definition of silver fox. What did you expect from me?
So I’d spent the next few months getting handcuffed to various things and fucked in all manner of positions. Never with a gag, though, since the guy had wanted to make sure I could say a safe word if I needed to tap out.
I never did.
I discovered, that year, that handcuffs were actually kinda fun. As was getting spanked while wearing them. Spanking was a lot more fun when it was consensual and preceded a thorough dicking down than when I was four and it followed me cutting half my sister’s hair off with kitchen scissors. Being called ‘Daddy’s little cumslut’ at the same time didn’t hurt, either.
But I digress.
The point was, I knew my way around handcuffs, but the kind I was used to left a lot more breathing room around my wrists. And I’d usually been handcuffed to things. Now, my hands were cuffed behind my back, and the metal dug into my skin so hard I was pretty sure it was cutting off my circulation.
Eventually, I found the closet door, and after ascertaining that it was locked, I slumped against it and tried to think my way out of the situation.
First things first, how had I ended up here? It still felt like someone was jamming an ice pick into my brain, but I did my best to remember what details I could.
Ever since I was a kid, my family had taken a big trip the first week of December. My parents said it was so they could work over the holidays while giving their employees time off, but I’m pretty sure it’s also because places are less crowded in early December than right around Christmas.
This year we’d gone to Iceland, and it had felt special because both my older sisters, Leah and Letty, had been able to come. Leah was in politics and almost never got time off anymore, and Letty was in the military and usually couldn’t even tell us where she was, let alone make it home for family vacation.
Plus, my Uncle Eddie was supposed to join us halfway through the