The Mermaid Experience – Chapter 65: Monica’s Tale

To start at the beginning, use this link:  Link to chapter 1

Monica rushed through the back door of the café, arriving just in time to clock in for her shift as a waitress.  With any luck she would be able to get a better job in a year or two.  Her sister Marta was working hard in the United States, saving money to send Monica to school and hopefully help her emigrate in time.  Marta was six years older, and she had been very lucky, able to get a scholarship to the University of Houston, which guaranteed her a coveted green card.  Unfortunately, her degree in sociology hadn’t netted her the high-paying job she hoped for.  But her administrative assistant’s salary was still far more than Monica would ever make in Mexico.  Her sister would be able to apply for citizenship in another year, and then they hoped Monica would be able to join her under a family visa.  In the meantime, Monica waited tables to put food on the table, saving what she could to pay for her own hoped-for education.

It was a quiet Monday at the café, and Monica even had a few minutes to chat with Felicia, the other waitress.  Late in the afternoon, they heard the tinkling of the bell at the door.

“Your turn.”  Felicia said.

“I’m going.”  Monica answered.

When she stepped around the corner she thought Felicia would be sorry she hadn’t volunteered for this one, though.  A tall, handsome man in expensive-looking clothes stood at the door.

“How many?”  Monica asked him.

“Just one.”  He said, looking her up and down with a smile.

Monica led him to one of the small tables and handed him a menu.  He ordered their most expensive wine, and when Monica suggested the lobster special, he accepted her suggestion without even glancing at the price.  Felicia stuck out her tongue at Monica as she walked by to put in her order in the kitchen.

“You got that rich American last week.”  Monica told her.  “It all evens out in the end.”

“The American may have been a good tipper, but he wasn’t super guapo like this guy.”

“You can look at him all you like.”

The man seemed in no hurry to finish his dinner, and he chatted amiably with Monica when she stopped by to refill his drink or to make sure he was enjoying his entrée.  Still, Monica was flabbergasted when his meal was done and he took her hand.

“You are a very attractive woman, Monica, and I would like to get to know you.”  He said.  “Would you do me the pleasure of joining me tomorrow evening?”

“I am very flattered.”  She told him.  “May I ask your name?”

“Renaldo.  Renaldo Flores.”  He answered.

“I would be pleased to go out with you tomorrow.”

Renaldo then asked her for her address and arranged to pick her up the next day at 7:00 P.M.  She was so stunned by the sudden invitation that she barely noticed the 1,000 peso tip.  Felicia was extremely jealous, but the business picked up and they were both pretty busy until the end of their shift.  Monica was eager to tell her roommate all about her date when she got home.

“Sophia, you wouldn’t believe what happened to me today!”  She exclaimed.

“What?  Did you get a raise?”  Sophia asked.

“No, but this was almost as good.  A very handsome and wealthy customer asked me out on a date.”

“Really?  Who is he?”

“His name is Renaldo Flores.  He wants to pick me up tomorrow at 7.”

“So what do you know about him?”

“Not much.  He said he is from Matamoros, but he just moved to Mexico City.  Other than that, all I know is he wears expensive-looking clothes, he is very good looking, and he gave me a 1,000 peso tip.”

“A thousand peso tip?  That does sound very generous.  Why did he ask you out?”

“He just said I was very attractive and he wanted to get to know me.”

“That sounds almost too good to be true.  What did he say you were going to do?”

“Go out for dinner, I assume.  He didn’t say.”

“And you were so smitten by his looks that you didn’t ask.  You be careful.”

“I will.  If something doesn’t feel right, I can always leave.”

“Just remember that.  Don’t be taken in by a handsome smile and a nice dinner.  I would hate for you to be disappointed.”

Monica knew her roommate was right, and she decided she would proceed cautiously, but that didn’t stop her from feeling like she was walking on air all that night and through the next day.  She got home from work at 5:30 and spent the next hour and a half getting herself ready.  She took a shower and had Sophia braid her hair in a French braid.  Then she put on her best dress – a knee-length rose-colored dress with long sleeves and a wide neckline.  She did her best make-up job and loaded her small purse with everything she would need to touch it up as the evening progressed.  Precisely at 7:00, there was a knock at the door.  She opened it to see Renaldo there waiting for her.

“You look lovely.”  He said, taking her hand.

Monica stepped down from the door and was astonished to see a long black limousine waiting for them.

“Oh, my!  I had no idea this would be so formal!  Where are you taking me?”  She asked.

“It’s not as formal as it seems.”  Renaldo said.  “I just borrowed my employer’s car for a time.  I was planning on a nice dinner.”

“I guess we’ll go there in style then.”

Renaldo led her out to the car and held the door while she got in.  As she turned to slide into the seat, Monica caught a glimpse of Sophia standing at the door of their apartment.  Her face was white as a sheet.  Monica wondered what had caused that reaction.  Was she just surprised to see the limousine?  The inside of the car was richly upholstered with a long seat that ran along one side of the car and across the back.  Renaldo closed the door behind himself and then pulled a seat belt across Monica’s shoulder and latched it next to her leg.  She felt a warm shiver as his hand brushed past her thigh.

“Thank you.”

“It was nothing.  I just want to make sure you are safe.”

Renaldo put his own seatbelt on and then the driver pulled out into traffic.  There were curtains covering the back windows, so Monica couldn’t see the cars around them, and the car was well-insulated so even the noise of the traffic was muffled.  A frosted window separated the passenger cabin from the driver’s seat, so Monica could only see a silhouette of the man driving the car.

“What kind of work do you do, Renaldo?”  Monica asked.

“I am a hunter of sorts.  I specialize in finding difficult to obtain merchandise.”

“And what company are you with?”

“A big company called Crown Holdings.  They own several companies, but specialize in imports and exports.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“It can be.  What about yourself?  Do you come from Mexico City?”

“Yes.  I grew up not far from here.”

“So do you visit your family often?”

“Unfortunately, my parents both passed away a few years ago.  My only family is my sister, and she lives in the U.S.”

“That is too bad.  I suppose you can’t visit her much then.”

Renaldo continued to ask Monica about her sister and her plans for the future as they drove for about 15 minutes.  Finally the car pulled to a stop.  Renaldo put a hand on Monica’s knee.

“Don’t get up.  We aren’t there yet.  I just need to step out and get a few things.”

Renaldo took off his seat belt and tapped on the window behind the driver.  A moment later, the door opened and Renaldo stepped out.  Monica caught a glimpse of the area outside as he passed through the door, but all she could see was the gray concrete wall of some industrial building.  She decided to pull back the curtains for a better look, but when she tried to release her seat belt, it wouldn’t unlatch.  She pressed the button several different ways, and she felt around the buckle for a different way of releasing the buckle, but it remained latched no matter what she tried.  Frustrated, she turned her head to pull back the curtains behind her instead.  The window behind the curtain was black and totally opaque, however.  Monica started to have a sinking feeling in her stomach, but then the door opened and Renaldo slipped back in, carrying two grocery bags.  The door stayed open behind him.

“I’m so glad you’re back.”  Monica told him.  “My seat belt is stuck.  I can’t get it unlatched.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”  Renaldo told her.  “It is controlled by the driver.  I’ll just tell him to release it.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, these two bags should have everything you will need for the rest of the trip.  This one has some food and water, and the other one has some things that I think you will need.  Don’t wait too long to use them or things might get messy.  Have a nice trip.”

Renaldo stepped back out of the car, closing the door behind him.  Monica heard him slap the roof a couple of times, and the driver pulled away, headed to somewhere.

“What!  Where are we going?  Why did you leave me in here alone?”  Monica yelled.

There was no response.  This was starting to look very bad.  Monica lifted the first bag up onto the seat and looked inside.  It had several plastic boxes with sandwiches and a few bags of potato chips.  On the bottom was a case of water bottles.  She opened the second bag and was surprised to see a large package of adult diapers along with a container of baby wipes.  The contents of those two bags implied a very long trip.  Monica pulled frantically at her seat belt again, but it still wouldn’t budge.  She pounded on the wall of the car, and by reaching as far as she could, she pounded on the window separating her from the driver.  There was no response.  She screamed for help until she was hoarse, but she had no idea where they were or even if there was anyone near to hear her.

Eventually, the panic died down a bit and Monica realized that her make-up was ruined.  She got a tissue out of her purse and wiped her face, then blew her nose.  There had to be a way out of this situation.  Monica opened her purse and took out her cell-phone.  She could call for help!  Unfortunately, there was no cell-phone signal.  Monica tried dialing 911, but only got the message that there was no available signal.  She put the phone back in her purse to try later, but she suspected it wasn’t going to work.  In the time she had been in the car they wouldn’t have gotten out Mexico City, and the signal was pretty strong throughout the whole area.  The car must have been engineered to block the signal or she would have been able to get something through.

Monica pulled the shoulder strap of her seat belt up and squirmed her body down until she could slide out from underneath the strap.  Then she lay down sideways on the seat and pushed her way forward through the lap belt.  It was very snug, but Monica was pretty thin and limber, so with a bit of wriggling and pushing she was able to slide out from under the belt.  She slipped across to the door and looked for the handle, but there wasn’t one.  She could see the seam along the edges of the door, but the body panel inside was completely smooth with no indication of a handle anywhere.  No matter how much she kicked or pounded or pushed on the door, it wouldn’t budge.  She opened all of the curtains, but was met by the same opaque glass behind all of them.

Next Monica turned her attention to the windows.  Pounding with her hands hadn’t done anything, so she looked for something harder.  The only item she could find was her shoes, so she took one off and pounded on the window with the heel.  Other than a small black mark, the window was unharmed.  She kept trying, hammering as hard as she could until finally the heel broke off, but there was not even a scratch on the tough glass.  By this time her hand was sore and she was hungry and thirsty, so she gave up on escape attempts.  She opened the grocery bag with the food in it and ate one of the sandwiches and drank one of the water bottles.  Before long, it started getting dark outside and the dim light coming in from the front of the car disappeared.  With nothing else to do, Monica laid down on the seat and tried to get some rest.

Sleep was slow in coming as Monica’s mind dwelt on what was happening to her.  Where was she being taken?  Why had she been kidnapped?  And what did they plan to do with her?  She had no answers to any of the questions.  Eventually, Monica began to feel a pressure in her bladder, and she remembered what Renaldo had said.

“Don’t wait too long to use them or things might get messy.”

Now she thought she understood what he had been talking about.  She opened the package of adult diapers and set one beside her on the seat.  Then she pulled off her pantyhose and panties and pulled her dress up under her arms.  It was too dark to see clearly, so she used her cell-phone as a light as she pulled the diaper up her legs.  It had tapes on the sides so that she could seal it snugly at the top.  She did up the tapes and then pulled her dress back down.  Then she sat still and tried to pee.  Her body didn’t respond to her demands, however.  Years of training kicked in, and her body refused to respond to her desires.  After several minutes of straining and trying, Monica gave up and lay back down on the seat.  The urgency gradually increased and after about an hour Monica decided to try again.  She sat up on the seat, closed her eyes, and imagined that she was in her bathroom on the toilet.  It took a few minutes, but she decided to stop straining and just relax, holding the image of the bathroom in her mind.  A little trickle started to come, and then the floodgates opened as her sphincter relaxed completely.  She could feel the warm fluid against her skin as her urine filled the absorbent padding of the diaper.  It spread throughout the padding, filling it completely, and she began to worry that it would overflow or leak out the sides, so she tried to stop.  Once started, however, her bladder was determined to empty itself completely, and the urine kept flowing.  When it finally stopped, a small amount had leaked out around the leg holes, dampening her dress slightly.

Monica took the diaper off, used the wipes to clean herself up, and then put the trash into the grocery bag that the diapers had come in.  She pulled her panties back on and lay back down on the seat to try and get some sleep.  She awoke some time later.  Something felt different, and at first she was unsure what it was, until she realized that the car was no longer moving.

“Help me!  I’m being kidnapped!”  She screamed, pounding on the windows.  She could hear someone moving around outside the car, and the sound of the gas cap opening and gas being poured into the tank.  She jumped up and down and pounded some more, but nothing happened.  After a few minutes she heard the front door open and the car started to move once again.  She checked her phone for the time—1:00 AM.  She checked again for a signal, but there was still nothing.  In fact, her battery was getting low from constantly trying to pick up a signal, so she turned the phone off to save it.  With nothing else to do, she lay back down on the seat.

Monica woke up again when it started to get light inside the car again.  She needed to pee again, so she put on another diaper.  This time, she knew the trick and she was able to go before the need got too urgent, so there was no leakage.  That was good, because the damp spots on her dress were uncomfortable and smelly, though the smell coming from the grocery bag was far worse.  She added the second diaper to the bag and tried to wrap it up well and push the bag as far away as possible.  Since she figured this wasn’t likely to be her last time, she put another diaper on instead of her panties.  Then she had another sandwich and a bottle of water.  Before long, she could feel the car turn off the road and stop again.  It was probably another stop for gas.  Monica yelled and pounded again, but there was no response.  Was the car so well insulated that no-one could hear?  Or did the driver just make sure no-one was nearby when he got gas?  And didn’t the driver need sleep?

The car started moving again, and Monica noticed that the silhouette in the front seat looked a little taller than it had before.  So maybe they were trading drivers at the stops.  Where were they taking her that was taking so long?

Monica shuffled through her purse, looking for anything that might help.  She took out the small perfume bottle she had put in there.  Maybe it could help the smell some.  So she sprayed it on the bag with the dirty diapers.  The floral smell did cover the urine odor somewhat.  She also found her nail care set in the purse.  It had a small metal nail file with a hook on the end.  Maybe she could use that for something?  Monica moved to the seat at the back of the car and started using the nail file to poke at one of the seams.  Her file wasn’t very big or very sharp, but she had lots of time, so she kept working on the seam until she had opened a two foot long section of the seat cover.  She pulled it back to see what was underneath.  Unfortunately, she did not find the escape she was hoping for.  Unlike in her parent’s old car, the back of this seat did not open into the trunk.  Rather, a set of springs had been welded to a metal bulkhead.  After all that effort, no-one could begrudge her another bout of tears.

The drive continued through the day with no changes except for gasoline stops every 4 or 5 hours.  Monica was forced to use one of the diapers for poop as well as pee, and the inside of the car was uncomfortably warm despite the fresh air coming from the air conditioner.  Eventually, the sun went down again and Monica resigned herself to a second night of sleeping on the car seat.  She woke when the car stopped again.  It was still very dark, and Monica tried pounding on the walls and yelling for a minute or two, but there was no response.  She didn’t hear the usual noises associated with refueling, and the car did not start again after several minutes.  Was she at her destination?  If so, why hadn’t anyone come?  Monica dug out her nail file again and gripped it in her hand.  She sat opposite the door, waiting for it to open.  But it remained stubbornly closed for a long time.  Monica’s head was bobbing toward her chest when it suddenly opened, and she could see a large male form in the bright light shining through the opening.  She lunged forward, determined to stab him with the nail file and run for help, but the man caught her wrist in one hand and spun her around so her arm was behind her back.

“Let me go!”  Monica yelled.

“We’ve got a feisty one here.”  Said the man.

A second large, muscular man stood nearby.  He moved in and took hold of Monica’s left hand while the first man twisted the nail file out of her right hand.

“Whew!  It really stinks in that car!”  Said the second man.

“I hear they brought this one all the way from Mexico City.”  Said the first.

While they were speaking, they worked efficiently together to bring both of Monica’s hands behind her back and bind them together with several zip ties.  Monica kept screaming, calling out for help and cursing at the men, until the second one pulled a folded up handkerchief from his pocket and stuffed it into her mouth.  She tried to resist, swinging her head from side to side and pushing at the handkerchief with her tongue, but the first man wrapped an arm around her neck to hold her head still, and the second man pulled out a rectangular patch of sticky foam tape and smoothed it over Monica’s mouth and chin.  Her voice now muffled, Monica tried kicking at the men with her bare feet, but they just laughed at her, their shins seeming to be impervious to her blows.  One of the men reached into the car and retrieved the bag of diapers and wipes, then the two men each took an elbow and started marching her away.  Monica tried kicking some more, then dragging her feet, but the men were unfazed by either tactic, so after a moment or two she gave up and let them guide her along.

They started in a large garage with several different vehicles in it – a second limousine, a red Porsche convertible, a large RV, and several more nondescript cars.  When they came to the door, one of the men pressed his thumb on a plate next to the door and a lock clicked open.  They exited the garage and walked along a paved path towards a large mansion.  Monica could smell the ocean nearby and the breeze felt good after the stuffy confines of the limousine.  When they got close to the house, Monica could see a wide moat surrounding the building.  It was only about a foot deep, but it was at least 10 feet wide, and the bottom of the moat was covered with shards of glass and long sharp nails embedded in concrete.  One of the men pressed his thumb onto a plate on top of a post at the edge of the moat, and a metal bridge rolled out from under the door of the house to the end of the path.  The two men walked Monica across the bridge, opened the door with another thumbprint, and took their captive inside.

They were in a carpeted hallway that extended in both directions from the door.  The men guided Monica to the left.  They walked a few yards and turned to the right, following the hallway which now had several doors evenly spaced along the left side and an opening about halfway down on the right side.  A young woman was standing in the hall, and Monica tried to yell through her gag, but only a muffled “mmph” came out.  The young woman was wearing white tights and a light blue leotard with a short little blue skirt.  She looked at Monica and her eyes widened for just a moment before she lowered her head and looked at the floor, scurrying through the archway out of the hall.  The men continued taking Monica down the hall until they arrived at the door they were looking for.  Once again it was opened with a thumbprint.  Behind the door was a small room with a narrow bed on one side and a dresser on the other.  There were no sheets on the bed, only a plastic protective cover.  There were chains with padded shackles on each of the four bed posts, and the two men forced Monica to sit on the bed, then pulled her legs apart and clamped each ankle into one of the shackles.  Then one of the men pulled some wire cutters out of his pocket and cut the zip ties off of Monica’s arms.  Her arms were free only for a moment, however, as the men quickly locked her wrists into the other two shackles.

“The harem mistress will be by to see you in the morning.”  One of the men said.

Then they went out the door, which closed behind them with a heavy thunk.

“Harem mistress?” Thought Monica.  Whose harem?  And how many other women were here?  From what she had seen on the way in, this would not be an easy place to escape from.  She looked across the bare little room to the dresser.  The men had left the bag of adult diapers and wipes on top of it.  Aside from the dresser and whatever might be inside, the bed was the only furniture in the small room.  Unable even to call out, Monica sobbed quietly into her gag and let the tears flow down her already well-stained face.

Link to Chapter 66

Link to Chapter 64


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