Kick Off Your Stilettos

xMATTYx

I woke up in the dark, still drowsy and so numb I couldn’t feel if my body was even there.
I wriggled my fingers around until I was sure that they were there then moved on to my hands, only to find that they were tied up by thick rope. I tried to bite my lip, but was unable to, thanks to a layer of what I guessed was sellotape over my lips. I soon guessed that the darkness was not because of a late hour, but thanks to some kind of blindfold. Combining these facts together I could only come to two conclusions. Either I had been kidnapped and was going to be cut up into small pieces or I had been kidnapped and was going to be raped. I wasn’t sure which I feared more.
It took me a while to realise I wasn’t alone, that there was someone else in the room with me, either another hostage or my kidnapper. “Mmm? Mmmph!” I squeaked through the gag.
The other person laughed (definitely the kidnapper, then), a boy’s laugh, then I heard his voice, clear in the silence, “Wakey-wakey, sleepy-head.” I heard his breathing grow louder as he walked over to me, then felt his hand caressing my cheek.
I jerked in my chair, trying to get him away from me, but of course it was helpless. He had the advantage – he could actually see.
‘He’ growled sharply and kicked my chair still.
I whimpered, feeling utterly useless.
“Do you wanna go home?” He taunted.
I stayed silent. Had I heard this voice before? He must be young, my age, give or take a year or so… so at least I wasn’t facing a rabid paedophile.
“Are you afraid?” He chuckled quietly, cupping my cheek with one hand as I let out a muted whimper.
My own petrified breath increased as he leant in closer, grabbing my chin forcefully. “So tell me, Matty Maggot, what brings you to this basement on such a delightful evening?”
I narrowed my eyes beneath the blindfold.
“It’s a lovely day outside, but why don’t we stay here and have some fun while we can, hey?”
I shuddered as a hand travelled up my thigh to my hip. Despite my utter disgust, I felt a shock at this mans touch, like a spark shooting through my spine. I knew this feeling – I wasn’t a brain-dead bimbo – but what could possibly make me feel like this for a stranger who had me held captive? Stockholm syndrome? Not this early.
“Now where do we start?” He mused in mock thought. “Do we start here…”
The grip he had on me hip tightened as he lifted my shirt up ever so slightly to brush the skin of my lower stomach with his fingertips.
“…or do I just skip the trivial necessities and…” his finger traced softly, almost lovingly, down my jaw and over my neck, before suddenly stopping and slipping horizontally across it. “…slit your throat?”
I gulped, struggling against the ropes that were bound tightly around my wrists.
“I think you prefer option one, no?”
He paused, waiting for the response he knew I couldn’t give.
“I thought as much.”
I winced as he ripped the sellotape of my lips. “D-do I not get to see who my kidnapper is? If I’m gonna leave this room anyway.”
“Why don’t you guess, Miss Maggot?” He stroked his fingers down my cheek. “You have three guesses. If you get it wrong, you lose a fuck load of that pretty blue hair. Of course, I’ll let you see my face if you get it right. Deal?”
Oh god, the creep. Even with the pant-wetting levels of fear, was it so wrong that I was finding this sort of…hot?
I cleared my head out and tried to think of all the most likely people. Who had I been a bitch to over the years? This question of course opened up an ugly can of worms. Not just your typical worms, but hideously mutated, dismembered, HIV positive worms. Sandra and Eleanor were out of the question, cause I was pretty damn sure this was a guy. Although it could be one of their boyfriends, it wouldn’t make sense due to the personal touch the whole occasion held.
“Paul? Jack?”
“Nope!” He popped the ‘p’ sound cheerily. “One more guess, use it wisely.”
Who else had a grudge against me? The most obvious culprit would be my bitter ex-boyfriend, Brad, but the voice was all wrong. Brad had never had that ever so slight, adorable lisp I could catch a brief snippet of every now and then. Still, he could be using some form of voice changing technology – right?
“Brad?” I asked, my voice pathetic and pitiful. “Braddy is that you?”
“Y-yes Matty, it’s me. How did you guess?” He paused. “Maybe I was wrong about you, baby. I still love you if you’ll take me back. Kiss me baby.”
I sighed happily, everything was going to be okay. I missed Brad like hell, so surely I wouldn’t have to lie to him to tell him I loved him or to kiss him. I leant forward, my head tilted to one side and I smiled as I felt lips against mine. Our mouths opened and I stuck my tongue straight between his parted lips, re exploring the contours of his mouth. Suddenly I felt a shock of pain and the taste of blood as his teeth clamped down on my tongue.
He pulled away, laughing. “Not even close baby, you’re losing some hair.”
I felt a knife chafe roughly against my hair as he sawed through the thickly hair-sprayed locks and I imagined the pile of hair on the floor grow and grow. It was more painful than watching a family member be tortured. I would rather lose a leg than lose my beautiful hair. When the shredding sounds stopped, I could no longer feel my hair on my shoulders.
He slipped his fingers under the blind fold and carefully peeled it off.
I blinked in shock as I saw that my kidnapper was none other than Zachary Baker, a guy in my year at High School. God, I had to be the luckiest girl ever. Kidnapped by one of the most amazing guys at school… or maybe the unluckiest girl because my crush seemed to be desperate to cut my fingers off. Either way, I was tied to a chair in a basement, at the mercy of my captor. I shuddered.
He laughed. “You really should be scared.”
I tried to suppress it but I could do nothing to stop the tear rolling down my face. Zacky saw it, he knew I was crying, and yet he appeared confused.
“What are you upset about?” he asked – a ridiculous question, it seemed to me, because it seemed obvious what I was so distressed about.
I let out a hysterical cross between a giggle and a sob. “Because I’m being held captive in someone’s basement and I’m probably going to lose several fingers.”
He frowned. “Why would you lose fingers? I’m holding you for a ransom, sure, but I don’t see why you aren’t going to have your family rushing to pay for you to be let go before we eve slice off your pinky.”
I laughed harshly. “That’s the point! My family? They probably haven’t even noticed I’m gone. My mother’s a druggie and my father’s a drunk and my brother? I reckon he’s to busy off at college, creating a new person out of himself.” I paused. “Not that I can blame him. It’s what I did, too.”

ZACKY

I had been enjoying the slightly sadistic mood I was in and scaring Matty had been fun until she started to cry. Then it had spiralled out of control. A bitchy poser scene-queen is fun to torment, but a lonely girl, forced to reinvent herself? No.
“I-I-”
“Don’t care?” She finished for me, her eyes hard as stones, even now as she was crying.
“No, I do care.” I stated firmly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“It’s ok,” She shrugged. “I’d probably hate me too if I wasn’t so caught up in being me.”
I laughed and pulled over a chair from the corner of the room. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t hate the real you. We can take this as a bit of time for us to get to know each other, seeing as we didn’t get to before.”
She smiled. “My name is Matty and I’m eighteen, I like punk-rock and ponies, and I make crappy youtube videos so I can feel like people know and like me if I get views and comments. Hair dye and makeup is my life, because it makes me feel like I can be someone completely different. I’ve been arrested for shoplifting before, my parents are irresponsible, so basically I live alone and… I’m tied to a chair.” I laughed and she gestured towards me. “So, how about you?”
“My name is Zacky, I’m eighteen, I like music and guitars. I play guitar left handed, I’ve recently started a band with some friends. We’re called Avenged Sevenfold. I’ve been accused of stealing microphones from a school gig… but I’m pretty sure I never stole them, and I just kidnapped a scene queen.”
She giggled. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“What?” I frowned.
“I’m not a scene queen.” She said, emphasising the last two words. “I don’t really like labelling.”
I held in a chuckle. “Sorry, but you expect people not to label you when you dress like that?”
She giggled again. “Yeah, I did kinda ask for that one… hey, maybe the whole hair thing was a good thing – I guess it makes it a lot easier for me to change my ways and all that.”
She bit her lip nervously, and action that for some reason sent my heart thumping. “Uhm… do you think you could untie me?”
“Oh! Sure, sorry about that.” I laughed.
I bent forward and started to loosen the tight ropes around her wrists and ankles until I had finally undone the difficult knots. She shook her hands, letting the rope fall off onto the floor and then stood up slowly.
She slunk her arms around my shoulders loosely, prompting me to gulp.
You don’t like her, you don’t like her!
“I really should thank my sweet, generous captor for letting me go,” She murmured silkily. “I’ll do anything you want.”
A hundred perverted ideas rushed through my head but I just pulled away to see her face properly. “You should only do what you want, Matty.”

xMATTYx

He paused to consider my proposition, obviously imagining the opportunities.
“You should only do what you want Matty.”
I laughed, letting a little lust slip in with me laughter to convince him “Fine by me honey.” I leant forward and licked his neck and then pressed my lips against it, feeling him pull me closer. I went along with it, brushing my fingers slowly down his chest. Suddenly, I snapped my knee up into his crotch with as much force as I could muster. He instantly crumpled to the floor, wailing in pain.
“That was for me.” I growled harshly. “And this,” I rammed my stiletto heel into his stomach and spat onto his face. “That was for the hair. I’m getting my revenge for this, prick.”