Jack kept absolutely still as the fearsome schoolgirl strode to the far side of her luxuriously-scaled bathroom and picked up a small collection of clothes she must’ve placed there earlier. He could make out a pair of panties and matching bra, a party dress and a pair of high-heeled sandals.

The statuesque redhead didn’t linger for long and was careful not to leave him unattended, she returned to keep an eye on him, but he got the impression it was also very much to keep his eyes on her.

The statuesque schoolgirl dressed with a minimum of fuss, securing her considerable endowments behind skimpy cotton and slipping the dangerously tight, figure-hugging dress over her shapely form. The dress was so short, and so snug was the fit, that her imposing physique was practically bursting out of it.

The Alpha vamp very, very knowingly adjusting her cleavage in full view of Jack’s shivering form; she was stunning, knock-out, to die for, and boy did she know it.

The superlatives kept tumbling over in his head like dominoes, only succeeding in distracting him from his predicament. The cold, sodden clothes he was lying in were causing him worse and worse chills, and his body kept trembling in bursts as his core temperature dropped.

Caitlin finished putting on her heels and stood admiring her robust, skyscraper-long legs. Her shapely calves and thighs were beautifully built, and she flexed and posed them in a very transparent attempt to draw his attention.

If he hadn’t been in so much pain, Jack’s arousal would have probably been very visible indeed. Instead, he just felt numb and unresponsive, ogling her majestic frame was simply a base instinct he didn’t choose to fight.

The immense teenager turned her attention back to the shivering bundle slumped on the toilet lid.

“Show’s over,” she declared brusquely, reaching down and grabbing him roughly with both hands.

She wasn’t gentle with him in the slightest, handling him like a kid would a battered old teddy, and with each heavy-handed bump and jar new aches and pains came into sharp focus. She carried him lackadaisically into her room, and dropped him on the bed in an untidy heap; though he was too tired to really care anymore.

The enormous girl then sat down just to the side of him, and, extending her long reach, dragged her big sports bag near and removed the roll of sports tape from it. If he hadn’t realised already, this confirmed Jack’s worst fears – there was going to be no escape.

Lifting up his puny legs in one sizeable palm, she secured them together tightly with several bands of tape, without any protest or struggle from the weakened boy.

“Any last words, squirt?” she asked, holding a small strip up to his face pointedly.

He couldn’t bring himself to speak, teeth rattling slightly from the cold clothes, and just stared up with watery eyes.

“Suit yourself,” she said curtly, shrugged nonchalantly, and applied the tape over his mouth and pressed it hard against his skin with a big thumb.

The hamstrung Beta could still breathe through his nose, but was otherwise completely incapacitated, as earlier when in the confines of her sports bag.

Stupidly, his brain decided that now was the moment, after what felt like eons of elf-imposed silence, to try and say something. He couldn’t figure out if he wanted to scream, to beg, to persuade, but all that came out was a muffled noise that made Caitlin’s wide features break into an obnoxious smile.

“Too late, pipsqueak,” she grinned, picking the tiny boy up like a parcel and scanning the room for somewhere to put him.

Jack felt like crying again at the sheer helplessness of the situation, he was going to spend the next however many hours tied up, with only the prospect of more abuse to look forward to once that purgatory was over.

He lost control of his functions and began begging uncontrollably behind the sports tape, his pleas for mercy almost completely muffled and inaudible. It was pathetic, he knew it, and all it seemed to be achieving was satisfying Caitlin’s desires in some dark, malevolent way.

The wicked girl leaned forward and stood up to her full height with him in her grasp, then marched purposefully over to the wardrobe, kicking the mess of clothes out of her path.

She laid Jack down on the hard wood surface surprisingly gently, then retrieved a small, old-fashioned-looking key from one of the small drawers some way up on the left hand side.

The boy scanned his surroundings quickly with a couple of turns of his neck, but his new prison was empty except for a couple of dresses hanging from a rail high above – when the door inevitably closed it would be dark, lonely, and uncomfortable.

He felt the prodigious teen’s shadow loom over him once more, and a large clump of fabric dropped onto his body. He immediately recognised it as one of Caitlin’s t-shirts, it smelled strongly of her sweat and perfume. A heady mixture, and one that made him feel uneasy.

Part of him wondered if this was a tender gesture from his giant captor, which seemed unlikely, or more predictably, a cynical ploy to keep her on his mind whilst she was away. Either way, this was going to be his only tangible comfort while the girl was out, and for that at least he was grateful, no matter what the intent.

“You’ll have plenty of time to think in here,” the girl explained gruffly, “And don’t even think about trying to escape.”

He looked up at this towering, indignant 17-year-old – scarcely able to believe she was capable of such cruel indifference. He was blinking back the tears, but Caitlin clearly wasn’t about to have a change of heart any time soon.

Without any ceremony, she swung the wardrobe doors shut, plunging the trapped Beta into darkness.

Closing his eyes, he heard the sound of the key rattle its way into the keyhole, turn slowly until there was a clunk, and then be removed. Next were her heavy footsteps as she walked away, followed by the sound of another drawer being opened, and lots of jangling of metal or plastic, like jewellery or something being rummaged through.

He was of course relieved not to be bearing the brunt of Caitlin’s vindictive attitude any longer, but he also didn’t fancy being left alone with his thoughts for hours and hours, awaiting her return. Hearing her actions over the next few minutes was strangely comforting for him, as it meant he was relatively safe for the time being.

He heard her walk into the bathroom, and then, quite clearly, the clink of a small set of keys being wielded, presumably to lock any windows. It was dispiriting, but inevitable really, given the way he had tried to fool the angry giantess before.

After a minute or so of listening to her inspecting what felt like every corner of her room and en-suite, the familiar ring-tone of her phone rang out loudly, and she rushed over to pick it up.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there soon,” the Alpha insisted, “Are you still up for coming round tomorrow?” she added.

Jack felt dread grip his heart, who would be coming round, and why? Caitlin knew he would be listening, so again, this might be for psychological effect, to leave him in a state of panic when she left.

“I’ve got a big… well, a little surprise for you,” she continued, and could be heard opening the door.

“Oh you’ll have to wait and see!” was the last thing Jack heard her say before the bedroom door closed for good, and then that was locked too.

He heard her voice continue to rise and fall excitedly as she exited the house, but it was too faint for him to make out the details. With one final slam, she was gone, and he was left shivering and alone, trapped in the Alpha girl’s wardrobe.

The silence was deafening.

All he could think about was what was going to happen to him, tonight, tomorrow, beyond that.

His parents would surely realise he was missing and go looking for him, but he didn’t even know what time it was, or how long he had been gone from school. It felt like ages but it really couldn’t have been more than an hour or so, so it was probably still school time for a while yet, and it wouldn’t be until maybe 8 or 9 that his parents would suspect something more than him just going round Delon’s house unannounced.

He wasn’t sure if anyone would really notice at school either, Delon had already seen him so it wasn’t like he had been missing for long, and he did sometimes go and disappear into the library for most of the day when he was feeling under the weather.

He felt so, so helpless, and then, to make matters worse, his mind turned back to poor Penny, the only Alpha girl who had shown him any kindness, only to be repaid with his misplaced rage and frustration.

His eyes overflowed and he sobbed as he wished he could turn back the clock, and arguably have avoided his current predicament entirely.

He lay there in the dim confines of the wardrobe, with only slithers of light seeping in around the door, and contemplated his very existence. He wasn’t the most philosophical of people, but he knew he was going through something that would change his life irrecoverably.

Caitlin filled him with such contradictory thoughts, it was maddening to think about her mean streak, her bitterness, and then to juxtapose that with her explosive sexual appeal and otherworldly stature and strength. She was way, way too much woman for the poor boy to withstand, and yet a side of him yearned for her in a way that was dangerously close to idolisation.

Penny too, was very beautiful and kind, she was someone he wanted to confide in. What if she only knew, he thought, what if I could make her aware?

In his trance-like state, he began fantasising about Penny breaking into Caitlin’s house to rescue him. He could almost hear the sound of the key turning in the lock, see the daylight flooding in, feel himself being carried away by someone who could protect him, make him feel safe, and keep him away from the evils of the world…

Jack drifted off several times until he finally started to come to his senses. He felt unnaturally groggy, he had lost track of time, and the inevitable return of Caitlin. The light through the cracks in the wardrobe seemed much the same, so it definitely wasn’t dark yet.

He noticed that the many aches and pains around his body had faded a lot, and what little strength he had was returning. He hadn’t moved much since his incarceration, other than rolling into the soft material of her dirty t-shirt in search of a more comfortable resting position. His nostrils were also full of her scent, which was overpowering but not necessarily all that unpleasant, or perhaps he had just grown used to it over time?

His eyes were also now fully adjusted to the darkness, so he could see the two dresses hanging above him quite clearly. The garments themselves were hung up on cheap metal hangers, and looked like they hadn’t been touched in some time, smelling faintly of musty fabric conditioner and not really being the sort of thing Caitlin would recently be seen wearing – a bit too flowery and childish for someone so well-developed and popular.

As he began to feel a little more normal, he started to squirm around, testing various areas of his body – like his legs, arms, and stomach – for bruises, aches and pains. He was still hurting, but nowhere especially badly, which was fortunate in the circumstances.

As his flexibility improved, so he began to notice that the tape that held his arms down was nowhere near as adhesive or rigid as the tape on his legs, possibly from being doused in water and subjected to a lot of movement since it was first applied.

He couldn’t slip his arms out from the tape as it was still too tightly wrapped, but if he could make a tear somewhere he figured he might be able to rip it.

There was obviously still the huge question of what he would happen even if he did manage to remove the tape; the wardrobe was still locked and then there was no way to escape Caitlin’s bedroom and bathroom. He could try and hide in the wardrobe, but she would find him within seconds, even if he just stayed where he was, the mere fact he had escaped his bindings would give the scornful girl just the excuse she needed to punish him brutally.

Puffing his cheeks out, he weighed up his options.

If he could get free, he had a chance of getting out of the wardrobe. He didn’t know how, but it was an Alpha-sized lock, he might be able to use his fingers.

If by some miracle he could get out of the wardrobe, even if there was no way out of the room, all he needed to do was find some way of communicating to the outside world, like a laptop or tablet, or an old mobile phone. If not, at least he could try and find a better place to hide, somewhere Caitlin might find it hard to squeeze into, or might never think to look. Then, if he waited long enough, she might think he had escaped anyway, and give him an opportunity to escape for real.

If he could get clear of the house… he would be safe.

His mind was set; he would risk it. He prayed he wouldn’t regret this…

Jack squirmed this way and that, but the tape still held firm, there simply wasn’t enough give and he was nowhere near strong enough to even open up a small tear.

Looking around the wardrobe, he remembered the dresses, and their wire hangers… If he could pull a dress down, with hanger, he stood a chance.

Straining for all he was worth, Jack snaked his way towards the longer of the two dresses and rolled awkwardly over onto his front so that he could grab a handful of the fabric. He tried to give it a strong tug, but lost his grip almost immediately. The big curtain of fabric rocked softly back and forth as he twisted his neck to look up.

He reached out again and grabbed the dress, then rotated his body so that his other hand could grab a clump of it also, then pulled firmly, but not hard enough to tear it from his grasp.

The dress tilted to one side, causing the hook to scrape a fraction of an inch along the rail. He again yanked at the material, trying to do it so that he was pulling at angle that might dislodge it somehow. The hanger slid once more, about half an inch this time, and he could see that the cheap wire was deforming slightly with every pull.

He could barely exert any meaningful force on his next attempt, and the hanger refused to budge, so he let go of the material and allowed his hands some respite.

The dress swung side to side like a pendulum, so Jack, thinking quickly, forced himself into a position to grab at the fabric and give it a yank as it swayed, trying to increase its momentum.

The hanger wobbled slightly, so he composed himself again and went for it, once more the thin metal appeared to give way a tiny bit. He had to keep this going; third one’s the charm, he told himself.

With one big effort he twisted his body painfully and threw himself up at the dress, grabbing a clump in each hand and dragged down with as much force as he could. The hanger bowed considerably, and as he hit the deck and rolled onto his back he looked on as, agonisingly, glacially, the hook scraped just beyond the point of no return.

Euphoria washed over him as a wave of fabric and clanging metal tumbled down around him and he screamed out in defiance. His voice was still muffled by tape of course, but with no-one else there to hear him it couldn’t detract from his elation.

Twisting onto his front, he wriggled through the expanse of cloth to locate the hanger, and manoeuvred his body in such a way that could get the hook under the loop of tape binding his waist and arms. The jagged metal tip scraped across his stomach, but in his haste he ignored the pain, concentrating fully on getting the hanger at an angle so he could get a foothold on it.

With some considerable effort he succeeding in getting the toes of his right foot over the thin bar of metal by bending his knees right up under his chin, and pushed tentatively with his leg muscles, attempting to rip or stretch the tape. It was slow going, but with small repetitions he could feel it beginning to give.

After around a minute the tape had been pulled away enough to tuck his right wrist under it so it was no longer pinned to his side. He only had a small range of movement, but it enabled him to grab onto the metal and hook it by the next band of tape, so he could jimmy it free also.

Over the next few minutes he stretched and pulled the sports tape out enough to free both of his forearms, and from there he used the jagged point of the metal hanger to attack the remaining bands.

When his arms were free, he tore the tape from his mouth and let out a huge scream, an outpouring of anguish to the heavens. Inhaling deeply, he allowed himself a small moment of respite before continuing.

The bindings around his legs were a bit trickier as the tape was stronger, but it didn’t take too long to tear them using the wire hanger.

He rolled onto his back, exhausted, stripped himself of his damp clothes, and wrapped himself, naked, in the comforting, dry fabric of the oversized dress. Sadly for Jack, his relief was soon to be tempered by the realisation that he was nowhere near out of the woods yet.