"The Lesser of Two Evils" (An Uncle-Niece incest RP)

"The Lesser of Two Evils" ​

My niece takes her lunch in her normal quiet, secluded section of the park. The fruit juice smoothie she gets from the park vendor -- the first of my Partners In Crime -- is laced with sedatives, and by the time she gets half way through it, she slumps back onto the grass for an impromptu nap. A man -- my second PIC -- hurries over the little hillock upon which my niece is passed out, throws her over his shoulder, and rushes her back to the van parked on a maintenance access road a couple of dozen yards away.

Although I am at least two hundred yards away -- on the far side of the duck pond -- I can see enough of the activity to know that, so far, the plan is unfolding as designed. I look up and down the shore line for any sign that the other park goers have witnessed what I have. It seems obvious that none have.

"Robert!" an excited voice calls out. I look up to see my brother -- her father -- just as he steps into hand shaking range. We clasp hands as he says, "Thanks for meeting me, Bro."

"Of course, Tommy!" I respond, gesturing him to a seat and waving to the waitress. "You call and tell me you want to buy me a free lunch ... and you think I'm going to turn that down?"

That statement is, of course, a veiled reminder that -- just before his death -- my father was tricked by my conniving brother into making Tommy the sole heir to the family business. Now, a year later, with no real income, I am up to my eyeballs in debt, facing bankruptcy, and already two weeks into the three week notice to vacate my downtown condominium.

"You're not still upset about--"

"No, no, don't be silly, bro," I say, slapping him on the shoulder. "You're the better man to run the company. Look at the turn around. Company's doing great ... share holders are getting rich ... everyone's tickled pink. Dad did what was right."

We eat and talk, with me stretching out the get together as long as I can. This lunch is more than just a three digit tax write off for my brother. It's also my alibi for what is coming soon. I know that I will be high on the suspect list. What better way to prove my lack of involvement than to be sitting right here with my brother at the time of his only child's kidnapping.

We finish dessert and chat about Thomas's plans for a piece of property the company recently purchased when his phone chimes at him. He raises an index fingers in a wait gesture, then touches an icon on the screen. His eyes widen, his lower jaw drops, and his face goes white.

"What is it, Tommy?" I asked with a skillfully practiced tone of concern.

He looks up with an expression of horror. "It's ... it's..."

He can't say it and instead hands me his phone. On it is a picture of my niece tied up on the floor of a van. The kidnapper holds the New York Times -- to establish the date as today, of course -- and a scrawled note that says No cops or she's dead. We will call soon.

"Oh my God, Tommy," I respond. "We ... we have to call the cops."

"No!" he says quickly, repeating the kidnapper's threat. He stands quickly, waving down the waitress and handing me his AmEx. "Can you...?"

"I'll take care of this, Tommy," I say quickly, standing to clutch him and look into his eyes. "Go home. Be with Emily. I have a buddy on the force that I can--"

"No police!"

"No police, I know," I verify. "I won't involve the department, but ... he can help us ... unofficially ... okay?"

Thomas is frazzled, which is perfect for me, of course. It doesn't occur to him that the kidnapping may have only just now happened; or that, because of the time of this work day, his daughter was just across the pond, in sight of her old man.

"Go home, Tommy," I stress. "I'll be along in an hour or so."

He agrees, we embrace, we separate, and -- after I see that he is definitely destined for the chauffeured Towncar sitting at the restaurant's curb -- I head off in the other direction.



I rear back and throw the punch into the man's forehead. His head snaps backward a few inches, just before he drops to the floor in silence. I growl, "What the fuck are you thinking?"

I stare down at the very stunned, very disoriented man, then look to the second man and growl, "Kyle, if you fucking touched her--"

He throws his hands into the air. "Whoa! No way man."

"But you stripped her!"

Kyle points to the man trying to sit up, still wobbling from the punch that has me wringing my now aching hand. "That was Howie's idea. He thought a picture of her naked would be more convincing to her father than--"

"Shut up!" I cut in. When he starts to excuse himself again, I repeat the order more forcefully, then ask, "Is she senseless?"

"Yeah, man," Howie manages from his now sitting position. "Blind fold ... ear plugs ... got a white noise device by her head. She hasn't regained consciousness yet, but her vitals are fine. She can't hear us, or see us."

"Blind fold and ear plugs ... but no clothes," I accuse.

Knowing she can't hear or see me, I step over to the bedroom door and peek through the peep hole that we installed backward for this specific reason. I feel a bit guilty as I stare in on my niece's nearly nude figure. I can't help but ogle the well rounded ass of the beautiful 20 year old college sophomore for a moment before turning back to the two men.

"Did you enjoy that?" I growl at Howie. "Stripping a little girl's panties and bra off--"

"Whoa!" the man cuts in. "She ain't no fucking little girl. I ain't seen a body like that in a--"

He doesn't see the second punch coming. I hit him even harder this time, and later -- after he comes to and Kyle applies the first of many ice packs to his skull -- we will find that I broke one of the fingers that had been rubbing at the pain in his forehead caused by the first punch it had received.

I awaken. A pounding in my head and a horrible taste in my mouth combined with my hands tied behind my back, my eyes blindfolded and I swear I feel a bed directly beneath my naked backside.

In fact, as I think on it, I realize that I'm bound nude in some unknown place. I'd told my ex about a fantasy along these lines; but, that was all it had been and all I personally had wanted it to be.

Was this Jack's idea of a joke or something? He'd been unwilling to take no for an answer and had stalked me after the breakup; but once I'd placed a restraining order on his ass, I had only heard from him maybe twice.

"Jack? Is this you? It's not funny and I'll have the cops on your ass faster than you can think it. If you don't want to worry about dropping the soap in the shower room then just come in here, untie me, give me back my f@#%ing clothes and let me go," I said as authoritatively as I could under the circumstances.

(OOC: You didn't give me a name, so I did. I can change it if you want.)


"She's awake. Who's Jack?"

"Shut up, Kyle," I say with a casual voice.

I move back to the bedroom door and again glance through the peep hole at my niece. Kim is awake and moving about the bed, a task made more difficult by the tight bindings holding her wrists together. As I had with her delicious pear shaped ass, I ogle her young, firm C-cup breasts, thinking things an uncle shouldn't think about his niece.

This isn't the first time I've had such thoughts about Kim, of course. As she reached her teens and womanhood erupted within her, my niece's body rounded and filled out in ways that often sent me home from the weekly family dinners for badly needed masturbation sessions. In my mind, I've had my niece in a hundred different ways.

I pull myself away from the peep hole at the sound of a snicker behind me. Howie is now sporting a quickly bruising, fist shaped design on his forehead and cotton balls in his nostrils, and yet he just can't seem to understand that I'm not happy with his decision to deprive my niece of all but her thigh high stockings.

At the sight of my narrowing eyes, though, the humor disappears from his face and throat. Kim is hollering out at the absent Jack once more, leading me to ask, "So ... who is going to go in and tend to our naked friend now that she's awake."

Howie raises his hand quickly, an eager smile filling his face.

"Are you an idiot?" Kyle says, quickly reaching over and pulling his friend's appendage down. Kyle looks to me with a serious expression. "Robert, we're sorry. It may have been dumb-koff's idea to strip this girl, but ... you were the one who told us you needed the next picture we send to scare the shit out of her father."

I'm angry, but at the same time I understand that Kyle is right, too. We need Tommy to be so fearful for Kim's safety that he won't hesitate to pay the ransom we are demanding. I wouldn't have stripped her bare, of course, but then ... I'm her uncle.

"Who is he?"

I pull myself out of my musings to ask, "What?"

"The father?" Kyle asks. "Who is he? Who's this woman we kidnapped."

"Yeah!" Howie chimes in. When I glare at him, he tempers his enthusiasm and continues, "Who is she? You still haven't told us who this chick is that we snatched."

I peek through the peep hole again at the sound of Kim's voice, getting a full frontal view of... Oh, God...! my brain screams at the sight of parting her legs for just a moment in an attempt to use her unbound feet to shift around on the bed. I get a quick glance at her pussy and the neatly trimmed landing strip above it. I pull my eyes away from the hole as more fantasies of her hole fill my head.

"You don't need to know that yet," I answer, crossing the room to snatch a beer from the fridge and pop off its top. "You just need to do your job ... now!"

"We're on it, boss," Howie says. He snatches up the cloned cell phone on the counter and turns Howie toward the door. "We'll be there in thirty minutes. Text you when we're set up."

I watch the pair head out, as Howie is again smirking at me with what I'm sure are inappropriate thoughts about the naked woman who he has no idea is my own flesh and blood. I watch them board the old pickup and head down the country road. I drink half of the bottle of nasty mass production beer, then dump the rest in the sink before returning to the peep hole.

Kim has gone both silent and still, laying as she had when I first looked in on her but now facing the door ... facing me.

Delicious, my brain reminds me. I've never seen my niece this exposed, of course. Until today, the least dressed I've ever seen Kim was in a much-too-small bath towel as she padded from the bathroom to her bedroom on the second floor landing above me. From that vantage point, I'd been able to very clearly see the lower curvatures of her buttocks, bouncing noticeably up and down, to and fro.

I'd often seen her in her form fitting or revealing clothing, too. My family had been a very tight unit all my life and, therefore, all of Kim's. Even as adults, Tommy with his wife and daughter, and me with whichever woman was about to dump me had Sunday dinner with my parents at their Long Island estate. We spent the week surrounding the Fourth of July at the beach house on Tybee Island in Georgia; and we spent the two weeks that included Christmas and New Years at the lodge in Vail, Colorado.

So over the course of her maturing, I'd often seen Kim in skimpy, revealing bikinis or form fitting ski outfits. I couldn't count the times I'd groaned in ecstasy at the masturbatory fantasies I'd acted out in the showers of those various locations. And now ... here I was looking through the peep hole at that incredible figure ... and here she was so vulnerable and exposed.

I turned away from the door, chastising myself. You aren't raping your niece! I returned to the fridge, snagging another beer, then tossing it -- still unopened -- into the garbage can as I thought, What a waste of money.

Money. That was what this was about, of course. I wanted my share of my father's wealth. I'd worked harder for my father and been more loyal to him all of my life. I'd been far more of a son to him than Tommy, that was for sure. But noooo... Tommy had been the smart one who graduated at the top of his class in high school and university both; the one who'd gotten lucky with an App design that put him on the front cover of Forbes; who'd found a beautiful wife who'd given him an equally beautiful child.

And what had I done? Slaved away each and every day, only to have bad luck and a back stabbing brother cheat me out of what was mine. I deserved Dad's company, or at least half of it. And if Tommy wasn't going to give it to me, then I was going to take it ... or, at least, the cash equivalent of it.

I can hear Kim again, so I return to the door and peek inside. The blind fold is secure over her eyes, but I don't take any chances and put a black hood over my head. The fabric is sheer enough to allow me to see her but thick enough to prevent her from seeing me. Around my neck, I don an electronic collar, snapping the clasp at the back.

I unlock the door, enter, and stand still for a long moment, simply staring at Kim with awe. She's ... she's so beautiful ... so amazingly sculpted. And she's my niece. I need to be able to speak with her, to tell her to settle down, that if she does as she is told she will come out of this just fine.

Problem is ... I can't seem to make myself move closer to her -- to remove the ear plugs -- while her delicious body is laid out so vulnerably before me. I draw a deep breath, release it, attempt to focus on her face and not her nipples which are hardened by the chill of the room, and move over to stand over her. I can't help but take one last look down to between her thighs. With the exception of the narrow landing strip, her pussy is shaved as smooth as a baby's butt, and her clit is peeking only just slightly out from between her outer labia, teasing me horrifically.

I reach down to her and pull on the little removal tab of the plug sunk in her ear. She flinches, startled, and -- with my voice masked by the device pressing against my Adam's Apple and voice box -- I say sternly, "You need to lay still and be quiet."

(OOC: The name's good. I almost always name my characters Kim or Kimberly anyways)

As the silence continued... Well, I honestly couldn't see or hear anything but when my calls went unanswered, I really started to get spooked. Sure, Dad had said that being rich had unseen costs and that's why he ran some sort of background check on my freaking boyfriends. Sometimes I hated him. But he was my father so...

So here I was. Despite his over-protective and controlling attitude, someone had slipped beneath the radar and kidnapped me. No matter how often I told myself that this was Jack's sick idea of a joke, I just knew.

Once I'd tested the bonds and assured myself that I was, most likely, seriously fucked; I thought back trying to remember who might have done this. I came up empty. After having my fruit smoothie it all blurred and went black. Well, if I made it out of this, I sure as hell wasn't having any more fruit smoothies in the park.

I sensed a change in the air. Was someone in here with me? I looked about but the blindfold hampered matters and so gave it up. I thought I might have heard something; but the earplugs kept me from making sense of it - unless I was imagining the noise.

But, be that as it may, I was nearly certain I was no longer alone in whatever room I'd been placed in.

"Hello?" I called out tentatively then recalling that whether or not he or she responded I was unlikely to know. "Is there someone there? Look, my Dad's really rich and I have a trust fund... Please..." I didn't know what to say. I'd watched too many Law & Order shows to have any real hope that I was going to come out of this alive.

Tears came unbidden. I was going to die. I know everyone dies but facing that fact first hand is more than a bit scary and humbling. God, I hoped this was Jack's doing. I'd kill him afterwards, but at least there was hope that I'd live beyond the week's end if it was.

(OOC: I can edit if necessary)

(OOC: Oops, I forgot she had ear plugs in when I said he talks to her. I added a paragraph to my previous post all in bold to correct for the error. I will delete the bolding after you indicate you read the additions. Sorry. My bad.)

"Kimberlee Jackson, do not be afraid," I say, my voice altered by the electronic alteration. I keep my statements short and sweet, not wanting the cadence of my speech or words and phrases I use to remind my niece of anyone she might remember. "You are being held for ransom. You will be released upon payment. If payment is not made--"

The rest of that line sticks in my throat. I have been practicing this again and again for months, and yet when I go to say it, I find it difficult. I quickly continue, "If payment is not made, you will be killed."

I glance to Kim's perky breasts, her shapely hour glass figure, her sweet shaved pussy ... and another line slips out of me before I realize what I'm saying. "If the police are contacted, you will be repeated and fiercely raped."

Oh God ... why would you say that? I ask myself. I finish, "Do you understand what I am telling you and accept that what I say is true?"

As she responds to me, I quickly realize why I have added this last condition of her imprisonment, and I am ashamed of myself. I am actually hoping that Tommy will fuck this up ... because I am hoping to fuck his daughter.

I felt the earplugs being pulled free and looked aimlessly, wishing that I knew who had done this to me. The blindfold left me in the dark and something was being used to alter this man's voice so that it was unrecognizable.

From the first word spoken, I knew that this wasn't Jack. This wasn't something I could talk my way out of or wait until the prank had run its course. No, this was the real thing. I had been kidnapped. Oh God, what could I do?

I thought I'd throw up when he - told me he'd kill me if Dad didn't come through with the money. When I heard the threat of rape on top of that, I almost lost it.

'Think Girl. Think!' I silently told myself after taking a few deep breaths. What did I know about this guy - while I suppose the mechanism altering the sound of my assailant's voice, I doubted any woman would threaten another with rape.

Money. He had money - at least enough to pay off the others involved in this crime. Then again, maybe he'd taken a loan promising those who'd lent him the cash needed promising larger returns once paid.

He was someone I likely knew. Why else should he disguise his voice and blindfold me? Was it Chris - another ex who'd hit it off with my father until Dad had stolen his ideas for an app design? It was the one time that I'd ever gone ballistic with Dad. Ever since then, it had been something of a cold war with me refusing my Dad's attempts to make things right between us. I mean, how could he?

I hadn't seen Chris since then but I heard that Dad bought his silence with a job offer. It made me sick.

Lastly, I believe that the mystery man is attracted to me. Why else had he threatened rape? Granted, it could be to send a message to my father that in not paying he'd have been the cause behind the pain I'd endured in the last moments of my life...

I watched way too much Sherlock.

What could I do? I lay here helpless and unable to even view my surroundings?

I was going to die.

I laughed harshly. "Do you know how much fluid currency my father possesses? He told me once that reinvesting his money was wisest. He'll have some money but probably not what you're asking... He'll need time to sell shares of stock in RevTech."

Why was I volunteering this information? 'Build up a rapport with this man. He seemed reluctant to mention my being killed if things went south.'

"While we wait, we might as well have some fun..." I said as I parted my thighs and wondering what would happen next. What advantage might I gain or had I truly fucked myself over?