| |
| Kink Live |
|
| |
| |
| The Upper Floor |
|
| |
| |
| Real Emo Girfriends |
|
| |
| |
| Everything Butt |
|
| |
| |
| Chantas Bitches |
|
| |
|
| |
| Captured Caroline: |
| Slaves Stories |
| 2007-10-10 |
From tmquin@ibm.net Fri Mar 07 07:11:31 1997
From: tmquin@ibm.net (The Mighty Quin)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.bondage
Subject: Captured Caroline: [Consolidated 1 to 10] (M/ff B&D S&M Kidnap)
Date: Fri, 07 Mar 1997 12:11:31 GMT
Lines: 7344
Message-ID: <331ffde6.1163366@news-s01.ca.us.ibm.net>
Reply-To: tmquin@ibm.net
NNTP-Posting-Host: slip139-92-44-66.zo.nl.ibm.net
X-Newsreader: Forte Free Agent 1.1/16.230
*****************************************************************
STANDARD DISCLAIMER
===================
The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and
has been posted only to an appropriate group on the Internet. If it is
found in any other place this is not the responsibility of the author.
All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this
story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.
Quin 1995
tmquin@ibm.net
*****************************************************************
Captured Caroline. by Quin
======================
Prologue: Just a Quiet Burger
=============================
As I neared the state border I turned off the highway and towards the
golden arches of an all night McDonalds. When I'd planned the route
the month before this had seemed the best place to stop, food bought
from here would still be warm when I parked up to change the plates.
I parked towards the back of the lot close to one of the lights. I
figured no one would be likely to park close by, I'd taken a lot of
trouble to ensure that she was tightly gagged and that she was tied in
such a way that she couldn't attract any attention. Still it paid to
go to a little extra trouble and it also reduced the chances of some
passer by spotting my home made tags. I still felt nervous and
unsure, copying a stranger's tags so that you don't have to cruising a
neighborhood with out of state plates is smart thinking and pays off
when the jobs over and the cops are looking for clues. Yet I couldn't
help feeling that this would be the night the idiot got his car stolen
or his wife was rushed to hospital and that every cop in the state
would be after that license. I was at most twenty minutes from the
layover when I could switch mine back, I hoped to stay lucky that
long.
I got out and pantomimed looking for my wallet so that I could hang
around near the trunk. Nothing, not a peep. I have to say that I
started to worry, maybe she'd choked or something. She was a smart
girl, a college student, she must see her situation, bound and gagged
in the trunk of a car being taken who knows where, her best chance is
when we stop. Then, just when I was about to panic and open the trunk
I heard it, a faint muffled cry, so soft at first I thought it was
imagination. I listened and there it was again full of desperation
and hope, saying just one thing `Help me.'
Satisfied that she couldn't be heard more than a few feet away I
`found' my wallet and headed towards the doors. She was smart
all right, she'd waited until she thought I'd gone before making any
noise. A good idea spoiled only by the tiny amount of noise she could
make. In some ways I was pleased, she was living up nicely to my
expectations.
The McDonalds was almost deserted, and was just about to switch to
cooking to order. My fellow patrons consisted of a couple of truck
drivers and a state trooper. I have to confess that threw me at
first, but from conversations between him and the staff it appeared he
stopped off here every night after his shift. I ignored him and
carried on. I got them to refill my coffee flask for `later' and took
a coke and the quarter pounders they had left as I didn't want to wait
around for them to cook my order. The trooper said his good-byes and
it
was with some relief that I saw him drive away. Once my order was
filled I too hit the road nerves on edge but keeping to a nice legal
fifty as I headed towards the layover.
I ran through all the events of the past few days again to see if
there was anything that could tie me, Richard Cody successful
thirty-something computer journalist, with Caroline Conway the
struggling eighteen year old psych major currently in my
trunk.........
I can't exactly say when the idea of taking a sex slave first came to
me. I suppose every man who has ever been lead on by a woman harbors
certain fantasies, any guy with a female boss, any guy stood up or
embarrassed or humiliated. What I suppose made me different from "any
guy" was that I had been provided with the means, both financially and
practically to carry out those fantasies and make them real. I could
have a woman who couldn't say no, one over which I would have total
control.
I suppose in reality this started six months ago. At the time I was
dating Samantha Prescott, former model and an assistant editor at
Vogue. I must confess that I had fallen, she was lovely of course, but
she also had an elegance and charm which completely won me over. I
suppose I read more into the relationship that she did, certainly I
was ready to commit. I was at that time building a house in New
England and contemplating the Great American Novel. Then out of the
blue she called everything off, the next time I saw her was in a
tabloid escorting some baseball star to the Grammies. When
she finally answered my calls she as good as told me that I was just a
fashion accessory, that literary men had been a feature of the Fall
season and that now that Spring was here she and her friends preferred
more "physical" escorts.
About a month later one of my editors called and suggested that I did
a blab piece on computer porn. The newspapers and television were in
a feeding frenzy about girlie pics on bulletin boards and S&M on the
internet. Apparently a company in San Diego was marketing an S&M
Multimedia CD-ROM, and had just won a court battle to allow it's
distribution. With some reluctance I'd agreed, chiefly because the
Samantha thing had caused me to fall behind with my column. A few
days later the CD arrived. By then I'd done the few thousand words of
condemnation required by my middle class publisher but I thought I'd
try it anyway just to get some specific quotes.
In the game you play "Dak Forest" a porno film actor. When the
costar of his next flick " Nympho Nurses From Hell" is
kidnapped by a Colombian drug cartel, Dak has only three days to
rescue her and save the movie. The script was poor, the video
clips included painful acting and in the course of the game just
about every female character ends up bound and gagged either naked or
in some kinky outfit.
Part way through the game a character is introduced called Samantha
Pressman, she is the editor of a fashion magazine who is kidnapped by
the cartel and turned into the nymphomaniac sex slave Kitty, who acts
as Dak's sidekick from then on. To anyone who knew her the
similarities between this character and Sam Prescott where
overwhelming, the actress even looked a lot like her. I found myself
playing the same section again and again. Sam kneels before Dak and
begs him to whip her, spank her, humiliate her. Dak of course refuses,
but that and some of Sam's heavier scenes kept me hooked on the CD
weeks after my article was printed.
I started to ask myself if it was really that difficult to take a
woman
and make her your sex slave. I had a secluded house with a large
basement that I'd originally designed as a computer lab. I had few
friends who lived nearby so impromptu visits were unlikely. In
addition I had the money and the time to make it work. Suddenly it
became clear what I should do. I couldn't take Sam of course, the
history of our relationship was too well known. For a wild second I
even considered taking `Kitty' and driving her back from California.
In the end I realized that I needed a woman with whom I had no
contact, a complete stranger preferably from some distance away so
that the police investigation wouldn't get too close to home. I looked
at a map and selected a college town about three hundred miles from my
home. Colleges mean young female students a good starting point for
the selection of a slave..........
By now I'd reached the turnoff I'd been waiting for. This lead down a
tree lined lane into a wooded hollow. I had come across the place by
accident whilst scouting out the area a few months before and could
hardly believe that I'd found somewhere so perfect. I'd spent a couple
of nights here to assure myself that this wasn't the local lovers
lane, or the favorite route of poachers. In the end however I had to
accept that it was what it appeared to be, a rough dirt road leading
to a small wood, and that the place was deserted at night.
I drove carefully into the hollow, this wasn't the night to slide into
a ditch or have a flat. I assured myself that we were far enough from
the road and that no one was watching. Finally I got out, went to the
back of the car and opened the trunk. Two large, frightened blue eyes
stared back at me over the mass of Ace bandage that covered her lower
face. The bandage was tight and her cheeks bulged out over it, in
places there was a flash of silver where the bandage failed to cover
the duct tape underneath. She made a mewing sound and started to
struggle, I carefully checked her bonds. In a sense we were both
acting out our roles, she as victim, I as kidnapper, we both knew she
couldn't get free. She was dressed in the same outfit she had worn
that morning to her Saturday job, a fairly expensive blue blazer and
skirt, a white blouse, heels and stockings. I had pulled her long
blond hair back into a kind of ponytail and secured it with some
rubber bands, it cascaded onto her back like a horses mane. I had
considered removing the blazer before tying her but this power
dressing had reminded me of Samantha, so instead I had added to the
ensemble. Her ankles where cuffed, good solid black leather bondage
cuffs bought from a sex shop in New York, in many ways they matched
her pumps and proved I could "Accessorize". At the moment they were
fastened together with a padlock and linked by a long leather strap to
her wrists. Smaller straps clinched her legs together just above and
just below the knees effectively immobilizing them. I had done the
same at her elbows but had used duct tape to secure her wrists and
hands. Even her fingers where covered in a mass so thick it appeared
that she was clutching a bowling ball. As well as securing her hands
the mass also stopped another leather strap from biting into her
wrists and it was this strap that was also secured to her ankles.
After checking everything was secure I removed the strap that formed
the hogtie. She groaned with relief and started to straighten her
legs. I grabbed her by the arms and pulled her clear, then slung her
over my shoulder and carried her round to the open passenger door and
placed her inside. Closing the door I entered via the drivers door.
For a second we sat looking at each other, then she started to
struggle and I went back to the job in hand.
"Stop that!" She turned and looked at me, her eyes framing a silent
question.
"No I'm not going to kill you if you don't force me to. If I'd wanted
to kill or rape you I could have done it back in that alley and saved
myself a lot of trouble. Now stop struggling, you've been alone in
the trunk for the last three hours, if you couldn't get free then what
chance do you have with me here?"
She stopped and sat watching me with a nervous expression on her face.
"Look, I have a proposal to make, we've got a long way to go and
things are going to get quite unpleasant for you unless we can come to
some arrangement." She continued to listen, her large accusing eyes
watching me. "You probably need the john and you must be thirsty. I
have a drink for you and some food. For you to eat it I have to
remove the gag, you can scream all you want out here and no one will
hear you, all you'll do is piss me off, clear?" She looked out of the
car window at the quiet secluded woods.
"Is that clear!" I snapped.
She turned back to me and nodded, her ponytail bobbing behind her.
"Ok, I want you to promise that IF I remove the gag, you'll let me
replace it again when it's time to go. You'll be quiet, you'll eat the
food then we'll head off again." She looked at me incredulously and I
began to realize just what expressive eyes she had.
"I suggest you think about this, you weren't able to stop me gagging
you in the first place, and you won't be able to stop me now, all
you'll do is force me to hurt you. Besides cause me trouble now and
we simply don't stop until we get were we're going, I know which of us
will suffer most." I could see the calculations in her eyes, here was
definitely a bad place for her with no chance of rescue. I could see
her thinking that the next stop may offer more possibilities and that
she shouldn't blow it now. At length she nodded.
"So let's check that we're clear on this. The gag comes out, no
screaming or carrying on, you eat then you let me gag you again with
no trouble?" Again she nodded so I told her to bend down whilst I
undid the bandage. Pushing the ponytail away I worked on the knot
then I unwound the bandage and dumped it on the floor. She started to
protest when I started pulling the duct tape free but at last I
removed it and the dense sponge rubber ball that packed her mouth.
She licked her dry lips, "Water?" she croaked. I put the straw to her
lips and she started to drink greedily.
Finally she stopped and looked up at me, "Why are you doing this?" she
asked looking at me with those big expression filled eyes.
"Shut up," I said, "I didn't say you could talk."
"You didn't say I couldn't."
"You'll learn," I said and reached for the sponge ball.
"No! " She said quickly, "Look I'm sorry. I'll be quiet, promise!"
Without a word I held the first burger to her lips and she started to
eat. There continued a strange silence until she was finished. I
reached back, plucked the toy bag from behind her seat and started
to root around inside. At length I found what I wanted and pulled out
her collar. Seeing it she started to protest but then she caught my
eye and sat meekly as I locked it around her neck. Then I pulled out
a leather gag, this time she couldn't stop herself.
"What..."
"It's your gag."
"But I thought...." She nodded towards the sponge ball.
"That design is very effective but the adhesive from the tape damages
the skin. This is a better long term solution. Now open wide.."
"But..."
"Are you breaking your promise?"
"No but..."
"Then open up!"
She sighed resigned to her fate and opened her mouth to let me put the
gag inside, then she bent forward as I secured the straps. The gag
had a wide padded leather section that covered her lips and a strap
that tightly fastened around her head. I could tell that she'd worked
out that the ball in her mouth was a lot smaller that the last one.
She made a number of muffled sounds that were much quieter that they
should be. I think she thought that I'd overestimated the gag's
effectiveness and she could exploit that later. I reached into the
bag and got the pump. At first she didn't recognize what it was and
it was only when the ball in her mouth started to inflate that she
realized the truth. Eyes wide and bulging she started to protest, her
whines becoming steadily more muffled as the ball inflated. When I
was satisfied that she was gagged as effectively as before I replaced
the pump in the bag and withdrew the padded leather blindfold that
matched the gag. She spotted this and wanted nothing to do with it
she shook her head, struggled and whined as I strapped it in place.
I pulled back and she sat there shaking. Deprived of sight she felt
even more vulnerable. Her almost covered face, gag and blindfold
scanned the car as if waiting for something to happen. I left the car
and walked around to the passenger side with the bag. Opening the
door I swung her bound legs out and clipped a short length of chain
between the D rings of her ankle cuffs. I removed the padlock joining
the cuffs and then the two leather straps leaving her legs free but
hobbled at the ankles. Then I secured another chain to her collar to
act as a leash and pulled her upright. A little unsteadily she
followed me to a tree where I secured the leash to a low branch.
"I'm going to leave you here while you pee is that clear?"
She tried to say something.
"The panties?" She nodded, "No problem." She squealed as my knife cut
them off. I watched her squat against the tree then returned to the
car. In the trunk next to the spare wheel was my license plates, with
some relief I removed my clever fakes and replaced the legal ones. I
watched while she shivered by the tree. I wasn't concerned, even if
she somehow slipped the leash she couldn't get far in a wood
blindfolded and hobbled. At length I collected her and returned her to
the trunk. I re-secured her legs and hog-tied them back to her wrists.
She moaned and struggled back to her role as victim.
"Hey sweetheart." Her leather covered face turned towards me. "I'm not
a bad guy I know it can be boring in here. I have some entertainment
for you." With one quick motion I slipped the vibrator into her pussy
and turned it on low. A strangled moan came from behind the gag and
she started to struggle as I secured her knees and trapped the buzzing
intruder inside her. The moans and groans continued but the hogtie
deprived her of the movement necessary to remove it, if of course
that was her intention. Her hips moved as much as they could and
muffled moans came from behind the gag. Once again I tucked the
blankets around her for sound insulation and shut the trunk. In the
eerie silence of the woods I could still hear her faint moans.
Satisfied that the vibrator, with it's long life batteries, would keep
her distracted until we returned home I returned to the drivers seat
and drank my coffee.......
*****************************************************************
Chapter 1: The Selection and Capture of a Slave.
=========================================
It had been fate that delivered her to me. I discovered that a
small software house was holding a product demo in the town I'd
selected as my hunting ground. A small startup company made up of
young graduates, they where based near the university. I was
preparing another blab piece on innovation in the computer industry
and so had an excuse to go, it seemed like a good opportunity to scout
around. I think the company had been surprised when I accepted, I was
the only recognized hack that had bothered to attend. In any case
they were all over me, I got a private demo and enough disks and
promotional material to supply the whole press corps. They were keen
young men desperate to make a good impression. One even
showed me the local night life and over some beers he told me of the
best student hangouts, information which I stored away for later.
The next day was to have been the main demo and having seen the
package already I had intended to send my apologies and use the time
to check out prospective targets. In the end however I elected to turn
up for at least the first half hour. They had hired a couple of girls
from a local modeling agency to look pretty during the presentation.
Neither was exactly what I was looking for but on a whim I hung
around until lunch to practice my stalking skills. The girls headed
off downtown to a small restaurant where they met with friends. It was
here that I first saw her, tall, shapely, blond, Caroline. With a
decent makeup job and some reasonable clothes she could have made a
good living on the modeling circuit. As it was she had a fairly poor
dress sense, which reduced her from stunning to just good looking. I
knew then that this was the one I wanted. Not only could I train her
as my slave I could eventually mold her into the kind of escort to
make the Sam Prescotts of this world seem ordinary.
After her meal she said her good-byes and left. Once outside I
followed
her back to a local department store, here she worked as a cosmetics
saleswoman. She seemed to be fairly junior, supplying free makeovers
to women brought to the counter by more senior staff. I went to a
rival company's stand and made some excuse about needing a last
minute birthday gift. The girl was helpful and I managed to keep
her distracted enough that I could watch Caroline across the floor.
She had a certain intrinsic elegance that shone out despite her dowdy
looks. Trade was slow and from the banter I picked up between the
other saleswomen it became clear that Caroline was a student working
here part time. Realizing I couldn't continue to hang around without
attracting attention I purchased enough perfume to keep the girl happy
then left and headed off for the rest of the day.
I had bought a late model medium sized domestic sedan to use
during the abduction. My researches had shown that this was a popular
type and color and indeed I saw a number as I drove around. In the end
I selected one and followed it to a small car park. Here a guy got out
and went into an office building. I noted his plate then headed back
to the store in time for closing. I followed from a distance as she
left work and headed down a set of back alleys to a place where a
small car was parked. I nearly lost her as she drove away but
fortunately the traffic slowed her until I could catch up in my car. I
followed her to a small apartment building near the university. I had
caught her first name in the restaurant and from the bell box I saw
that she was Caroline Conway and lived in 23C.
The next morning she was working in the store as usual, during the
night
I'd formulated a plan. First I hired a cell phone from a local
company that were happy for me to take it for a few days when I
claimed mine was damaged. This gave me a local number. I had spent
most of the previous evening filling a small notebook with cryptic
notes and I put a woman's name on the cover. I had noticed that
Caroline carried a small black leather purse with her at all times. I
guessed that they may be available from the store where she worked.
Another quick `birthday gift' shopping trip and I had it's twin
together with a woman's billfold. In the stores toilets I assembled
my decoy. I placed about $300 in the wallet and dropped it into the
bag, then added some old keys, some change, the notebook, a pen and
some of the perfume I'd purchased the day before. I figured it would
weigh about right and that she may not immediately realize it wasn't
her own purse. I assumed that she would eat lunch in the same place
and again fate was with me. I sat on the next table just behind her
as she sat and gossiped. I paid for the salad I bought and while the
waitress took their order I quickly swapped purses, stuck hers under
my coat and left. I explained to the cashier that I was waiting for
a friend who hadn't shown and that I was off to find out where he was.
Would she hold my table for fifteen minutes until I got back? A
large tip ensured she would. I knew I had little time, there was a
key and heel place down the block and a hardware store a little beyond
that. Out of sight I removed her apartment and car keys and ensured
they had no ID. I stopped at the heel bar first, dropped off the car
keys and paid for a duplicate set. With the excuse that my lunch
break was almost over and I had shopping to do I left them with the
promise that the keys would be ready when I returned in five minutes.
Then I went to the hardware store where I got the apartment keys done
quickly. In their toilets I quickly went through the rest of the
purse. I was relieved to see that she had no bottles of medication or
cards indicating a serious medical complaint. What she did have was a
large number of unpaid bills, and of course a motive to disappear.
Collecting both sets of keys I headed back.
In all it had taken me ten minutes before I was back in the
restaurant.
The decoy had worked well, and it was still where I left it. If I
couldn't get the purse back to her she would find the decoy and assume
some mistake. If she dialed the number on the notebook she would
reach the cell phone and I had a plausible story prepared about my
absent minded wife and her talent for mislaying her purse. I would
then arrange a place for an exchange. I doubted she would be
suspicious but I was still relieved that she and her friends
ordered coffee and were too distracted to notice when I successfully
switched her purse back.
I tailed her back to the store to ensure this wasn't a college day,
then went to her apartment. I rang the bell first in case there
was a room mate or a boyfriend, then went up and scouted things
out. I discovered that she was a psych major struggling to meet the
demands of the course and of her day job and that she apparently
lived alone. She had awful dress sense seeming to choose baggy
clothes that hid her figure and colors that didn't suit her. Although
this was puzzling her wardrobe did provide me with details of her
clothes sizes that would let me order some of the more exotic outfits
before I collected her. The absence of a boyfriend and estranged
letters from the family assured me she wouldn't be missed for some
time. I was almost tempted to wait and take her then, but I didn't
want anyone to place me near the scene so instead I decided to wait a
month and returned home to prepare...
The dungeon was close to finished. I had managed to do most of the
work myself and the little extras I'd had to get my contractor to do
(like putting water into the small basement room) were easily
explained by my love of photography. Before collecting my model I went
to New York on a fetish buying spree. Gags, cuffs, whips, chains,
harnesses, toys and a reasonable fetish wardrobe started to fill the
dungeon. I managed to pick up some reasonable strong secondhand
furniture to liven up the place, the only problem now was collecting
Caroline.
And that wasn't going to be easy. I mapped out her movements as I knew
them. Up at seven, out at eight thirty, work by nine, lunch twelve to
one. The problem was not what she did but the fact that everyone else
did them at the same time. At least a dozen people left her apartment
building within fifteen minutes of her every day. I as I looked into
it in detail it began to seem that there was not a moment when I could
reasonably expect to have her alone long enough to get her and make
off unseen.
First her apartment was on the third floor of a small student
tenement, there was frenetic activity all the time. Though I had keys
to the apartment and could easily ambush her there day or night there
was no method I could use to get her out of the place unnoticed. I had
no doubt that I could take her, but someone was bound to mention the
guy with the "drunken girlfriend" or the dude with "the big box"
when the police started asking questions. I could wait until the
early hours but then the back door leading to the car park would be
locked so I'd have to take her through the front doors. I determined
that it was never quiet enough for that to work.
The apartment's car park was above surface and at the back of the
building. Between 7AM and 8PM there was a back exit open to allow
access. Unfortunately it was clearly visible from the road and worse
it was a short cut to the nearest bar. Therefore an ambush in the
car park wasn't on either.
On TV of course it's all terribly easy, the heroine leaves her
apartment and gets into her car. Suddenly the menacing bulk of the
bad guy looms behind her and a gloved hand closes over her mouth. In
the next scene she's unconvincingly bound and gagged on her own back
seat as the bad guy telephones the hero to arrange a meet. Of course
the heroine always drives a big domestic car, if she were wise and had
bought a small compact Japanese model like Caroline she would have
only needed to worry about midget and contortionist kidnappers.
The only real opening was that she left the store slightly later than
everyone else. I could in theory jump her in the back alleys leading
to her car. Unfortunately *MOST* of them were well used short cuts
which was probably why she felt safe using them. The only exception
was an alleyway close to the store, here at that time I could expect
to have her alone for perhaps fifteen to twenty minutes. Unfortunately
the alley was too narrow for a car, it did however lead into an
wider alley linking two blocks. This wide alley was quiet enough that
I could get perhaps five minutes parked there before I congested
traffic but simply put it was too busy for me to leave a car there
during the kidnapping. For a while I played with the idea of stashing
her in a dumpster while I went for the car, but even with the best gag
in the world she'd make too much noise for me to leave her the twenty
minutes I needed. I started to wish I knew more about drugs so that I
could knock her out, but I knew that unless I was very careful I
could kill her. What I needed was a way to overpower her and to make
her invisible for perhaps twenty minutes.
Then fate again stepped in. During another shopping trip to NYC I made
the mistake of taking a short cut through a particular alley. About
half way through I became aware of someone by my side, before I could
react someone pushed something into my side and it was all over. A cop
told me later that it was a stun gun, an electrical device that
delivers the victim a debilitating charge. I figure I was out of it
for perhaps ten minutes, which had been enough time for the guy to
make off with my wallet. The police had got there so fast because a
bum sleeping in the alley had flagged them down. I had to confess that
I hadn't noticed him, and neither it seemed had my attacker, as the
cops caught him at the next block. I slipped the bum a C note for his
help before heading off to my destination. I was more careful from
then but it got me to thinking.
Over the next few weeks I practiced my capture technique using an
inflatable doll part filled with sand. Counting in my head, I
choreographed, handcuffing the wrists, gagging the mouth, securing the
legs. When I could bind my unresisting vinyl victim in under three
minutes I returned to the Big Apple and hired a woman who advertised
as a "Professional Submissive." She made it clear that she wasn't into
"rough stuff" but apparently rape fantasies were common to both her
male and *FEMALE* customers.
We worked out what she called a "scene." She would enter her bedroom
as a "tired business executive." I as a passed over rival would jump
her, bind and gag her then "punish" her for getting "My promotion."
The plot was lame but apparently a popular one with her other
customers, she offered several others but all I wanted was to refine
my technique on a real struggling body. After the first time I made
some changes, she was to make as much noise as possible at all times,
she would get a hundred dollar bonus if she kept me from tying her for
two minutes and I was allowed to tie her as I wanted. The first couple
of occasions she was up by two hundred bucks but after that it became
easier to subdue her. I tried out several types of ties and gags
looking as much for the type of movement and sounds the victim could
make as for the degree of immobilization or silence. Finally I was
happy I had found what I wanted so I packed my equipment and started
the long drive that would end with Caroline.
That Friday I followed her around. I kept fairly clear of the store as
it had security cameras and store cops but I attended her regular
lunch break. Her two model friends were off to a trade fair in
Chicago, bad news it seemed as she needed somewhere to stay for a few
days. The landlord was apparently evicting her on Monday and she
needed to move that weekend. With a put upon sigh one of the girls
offered a spare key to
her apartment but made it clear this couldn't be a permanent
arrangement. For a second I considered rethinking my risky plan in
favor of taking her there but I figured with my luck this apartment
would be even worse than the current one. What was clear though was
that I needed to move quickly, for some reason and despite the fact
that I had intended to kidnap her the next day I felt compelled to
move things forward. Trailing her back to the store I slipped off
down back alleys to the place where she parked her car. Then I stole
it, simple when you have the keys. I'd already been warned about the
"bad" side of town so that was were I headed. I parked in a back
street and left the car open with the keys inside before making it to
a more busy street and flagging down a cab. I had been away from the
car perhaps five minutes before the cab drove past the back street.
By then the car had gone, destined for the chop shop or perhaps a new
identity like it's mistress.
I was dropped off in the town center and recovered my car from the car
park. Next I drove out to her place. The block was as quiet as it got
as I walked up the back stairs in my disguise. I was wearing jeans and
a hooded track suit top and had a couple of books under one arm. As
the
"instant student" I went into her apartment unobserved. To my
surprise the contents of the rooms had been packed into a number of
largish boxes. Only a little food and the pillows and bedding were
still out. Good fortune having smiled on me again I started to move
the boxes down the back stairs to my car. Several people seemed to be
moving at the same time and it became easy to loose myself coming in
and out. I ensured that I was relatively unobserved loading the car
and hung around in the stairwell to ensure no one saw me enter her
apartment. It took perhaps twenty minutes to do the whole thing. I
searched afterwards to ensure that nothing valuable was left behind
but
deliberately left the place untidy. As a final gesture I left the
final notice on the table together with enough cash to cover the back
rent. I reasoned the super would find it on Monday and assume she'd
moved out. I'd put the boxes on the back seat of the car but I put
the pillows and comforters in the trunk as added sound insulation.
Driving to a secluded spot I got ready for the final assault. Under
the track suit top I put on a harness to which were clipped the
items I would need quickly. Looking back I wonder why I did this, my
"appointment" with Caroline wasn't for some time and the harness was
bulky. I reasoned it was best to get used to it so I didn't appear odd
when I approached her. I drove back to the town center with the
intention of hiding behind the dumpsters in the alley until she left
work. Taking a large cardboard box half full of equipment to the alley
I quietly moved one of the dumpsters a little to allow a six foot gap
between them.
I had just unpacked the box when a sob alerted me to someone's
approach. Dumb as it was I peered around the dumpster rather than hide
immediately. It was her! I couldn't believe it, she was walking down
the alley sobbing quietly over an hour too soon! I panicked, there
were
just too many people around at this time for it to work, the store
would be closing in a few minutes and the alley would fill with her
fellow workers. The cold realization hit me that I'd overplayed my
hand, that after all the planning and expense I'd been just a little
too impatient. I couldn't take her now, but if I didn't she would
discover her car missing and the things gone from her home. There
would be police reports, questions, in essence Caroline Conway would
become too noticeable to just disappear.
I had failed and beyond that I was mad. Mad with Samantha for starting
this thing in the first place, mad at myself for my impatience but
above all mad at her, at Caroline, for having the ill manners to be
early the one time it really mattered. Then before I knew what I was
doing I was standing next to her. "Caroline?" I asked and as she
raised her tear-filled eyes to mine I pressed the stun gun into her
side and pushed the button. She made an "Uhhug" sound as her
contracting diaphragm forced the air from her lungs. A pained and
surprised look spread over her face as she started to fall. I
directed her on to the open sleeping bag I'd just spread between the
dumpsters, I looked down the alley both ways and saw no one, then I
proceeded on autopilot.
The handcuffs were first, unclipped from my harness and then fastened,
one pair on the wrists the other on the ankles. Next came a dense
sponge ball apparently designed for people to practice games near
glass windows. It was quite unyielding and despite the lack of
resistance it took some pushing in. I sealed it there with two quick
strips of duct tape, each starting along the jawline, crossing over
her lips and ending on the opposite cheek. Again I checked for people
aware that this alley would be at it's busiest in a few minutes.
Fortunately I was still safe so I continued to cover her mouth with
strip after strip of tape. Then following the plan I strengthened the
bonds before she could move again. Four leather straps, two above and
bellow the elbows, the same at her knees. I quickly removed the
handcuffs from her ankles and from the box pulled out a pair of
bondage cuffs already locked together with a padlock. I strapped them
on her ankles and she attempted to kick me and made the first
sounds since the stun gun was fired. The sound was soft but still
wasn't quiet enough, turning her on her side I gathered her hair into
a single bunch, holding it with my right hand I used my left to move
an elastic band from around the right wrist on to the hair. A couple
of quick flips and the hair was bound into a pony tail and kept out of
the way of the next stage.
I could hear people leaving the shops down the alley. I thought of
leaving her like this but she was still too noisy. Quickly and
brutally I wound an elastic bandage around her head and over her taped
lips. I knew it was really tight but at that moment all that mattered
was the effect it had on her cries. Not only were they more muted,
they also became lower and more guttural as she had to do more with
her throat. I could see shadows moving in the far end of the alley. By
now it was too late to escape. I would have to hide and hope that my
idea would work. Rolling her on to her stomach I used a spare strap to
hog-tie her wrists to her ankles. Satisfied I threw the other end of
the sleeping bag over her and zipped it up. After some fumbling it was
zipped, because she was near the bottom of the bag it closed over her
head. Quickly dumping the other rubbish from the box, I used the top
of the sleeping bag to pull her head up and pushed the box down over
her upper body. Dumping half a bottle of cheap whiskey and some
rubbish on the bag I stood the half bottle strategically next to the
wall and slid behind the dumpster.
She must have heard them because she tried to struggle and scream as
the first people walked by. Of course she was too late, the passers by
smelt the strong alcohol, saw the ripped sleeping bag and cardboard
box and "saw" a bum not a kidnapped girl. Social conditioning being
what it is the more sound she made the more she became invisible to
the passers by. Just another street person best ignored lest they
tap you for pocket change. I hid and watched, pleased that the plan
had worked but still a little disturbed at how faceless society had
become. As I crouched there I went through her purse, found a hastily
written notice of dismissal from the store and understood the tears.
Just before it was quiet enough for me to leave for the car, two of
the women from the cosmetics counter where she worked stopped by the
dumpsters. I froze convinced they had recognized something that I'd
forgotten. In the end however they just lit cigarettes, and gossiped
about how "that stupid bitch, Caroline" had pushed her luck too far.
Perhaps recognizing the voices she tried to struggle and scream again,
one commented that the cops should lock such people away and they
flounced off with a self congratulatory waddle. Looking down on her as
she sobbed inside the sleeping bag I began to think that I could be
doing her a favor and that of all the people she knew only I her
kidnapper, her rapist, her MASTER really cared what happened to her.
With this in mind I checked the coast was clear and opened the bag.
The handcuffs on her wrists were already biting, cutting off her
circulation. The extra strain from the hog-tie was making it worse,
she must have been in agony.
I released the hog-tie and started wrapping duct tape around her
wrists, when I had built up enough I removed the handcuffs and
continued over her hands. I was able to force her to lace her fingers
together with threats of a knife and taped her fingers into a solid
mass. The result was that when I reapplied the hog-tie strap it bit
into the tape not her wrists. She seemed happy that the pain had
stopped so I re-interred her in the sleeping bag and box. Then I
piled
other rubbish around her and went to get the car. That trip took me
twenty minutes and it was with some trepidation that I approached the
dumpsters again. I pulled off the box and was relieved to see her
gagged face rather than the street cop I'd half expected. She was
sobbing, huge tears ran down her face. Quickly I blew her nose and
warned her to stop blubbing or risk suffocation. I don't know how many
people walked past her as she lay bound and gagged in the alleyway,
but the experience of being so helpless yet so close to rescue had
filled her with despair. She gave me little trouble as I moved her
from the alley into the trunk of my car. I quickly packed the
blankets and pillows around her to further muffle her and to minimize
the risk she could somehow pound on the metal of the car. Satisfied I
quickly cleaned up, dumping most of the stage dressing for my "bum" in
the dumpsters. I started to throw the whiskey in too but an impulse
stopped me and instead I placed it where only an invisible man would
look and left to take my prize to her new home.
*****************************************************************
Chapter 2: An Introduction to Slavery
================================
Sitting there sipping the coffee and reviewing the past few weeks I
felt the tension slowly drain from my body. I had her. Not only that
but as far as I could see I had left no clues other than ones that
pointed to her leaving of her own free will. Police don't handle
missing persons cases promptly anyway because the majority of people
turn up in the first few days. Seen from their point of view we have
Caroline Conway, struggling student already being evicted who suddenly
looses her job then disappears with all her possessions. Not a good
candidate for being a criminal case. I packed everything away and
started to put the pieces of her gag into the McDonalds bag along with
the wrappers. At length I picked up a piece of tape with traces of her
lipstick on it. The color seemed in some way wrong for her and it
struck me as being a little odd that someone who made money applying
makeup should botch her own so badly. Still this was a mystery I would
have plenty of time to investigate at my leisure.
Starting the car I left the hollow and headed back to the highway. I
was about four hours from home a distance I intended to take in one
go. I'd held out the hope of other layovers and chances of rescue to
buy her cooperation and I wondered how long it would be before she
realized she'd been tricked, assuming that she noticed anything above
the persistent throbbing in her crotch. Not that it really mattered
of
course as she didn't have a chance to complain. The rest of the drive
was fairly uneventful, I stopped for gas once at a small self service
station. If I had been unlucky I suppose someone could had driven up
and heard her, but it was about 2am by now and the cashier and I were
the only ones for miles.
It was about four when I pulled up outside my house. A
stand of trees and a high brick wall shields it from the road so I
could remove her without attracting any attention. Again I hobbled her
legs, though this time she was more cooperative probably to speed
removal of the vibrator that still buzzed inside her. Her thighs were
slick with her cum and the sweat told of her exertions. Taking the
leash I lead her into the house and down into the basement. I'd left
part of it unfinished so that the odd nail or hole wouldn't look out
of place. Originally I had planned a large lab under my office but
now that section of the basement was hidden behind a swinging bookcase
in the corner. For now I locked the leash over an exposed beam and
left her there. Racing upstairs I changed into my master's outfit, a
cotton shirt, black leather pants, boots and matching gloves, after
all my first act would be to dress my slave appropriately and the
least I could do was reciprocate. I returned to the basement where
she was trying the extent of the leash and screaming behind the gag.
Without saying a word I moved the bookcase and stepped beyond. This
space had been designed to be fairly large. Originally I had intended
to surprise my friends with this room and so had kept it a secret.
That
was useful now it's purpose had changed as it stopped embarrassing
questions.. At the far end I had built a small room with a heavy iron
door. Inside was quite spacious, enough room for a double bed, a
chair, a table and a chemical toilet. That was her cell the rest of
the place could best be described as the dungeon. On one wall I had
cemented in a steel latticework that stood out a couple of inches from
the wall itself. This provided ample anchoring points for straps and
restraints. The other wall had a number of large rings for the same
purpose. Near the door was a locked steel cabinet and an old wooded
wardrobe.
Going to the wardrobe first, I selected an outfit for her to wear
from the clothes I kept there. The visit to her apartment had
shown me that she was a conservative dresser. This outfit
screamed slut and sex and was guaranteed to embarrass her. I had no
doubt the kidnapping had rattled her, now I had to keep her hesitant,
uncomfortable and unsure as I started to mold her as my slave.
Most of the clothes here were off the shelf vinyl, leather and rubber
stuff from the sex shops of New York. Being her first night however I
went for something special. I'd ordered this ensemble from a
specialist shop in LA. using the measurements I'd taken from her
clothes. Their catalog had contained several more specialist
creations which I intended to order once I'd broken her in. Next I
unlocked the cabinet and removed some restraints, a new gag, a pair of
shears and a small riding crop then returned to the main basement.
By now she had given up struggling and just stood in the center of the
room shifting her weight from foot to foot. I let her stew a little
longer as I walked around and surveyed her fine body. Then I walked
over and removed first her heels then the cuffs from her ankles. The
sudden loss of height made the leash pull tighter at the collar and
she whimpered slightly. I reached down, placed the shears against
the hem of her skirt and with one movement cut it all the way to her
hips. Of course I could have removed the skirt without
cutting, but these clothes were her last personal possession, the last
vestige of her personal identity. Destroying them was a symbolic act.
The skirt was relatively simple, the jacket took more time, the blouse
shredded in seconds. By now she was yelling and thrashing around, but
the ever present bite of the collar kept her in check. I felt a little
guilty cutting off her bra and garter belt, I loved lingerie, but
accepted it had to be done. Finally I pulled off her stockings and she
stood before me naked but for the bondage, her blindfolded face
tracking backwards and forwards waiting for the next attack. Her
breasts heaved as she sobbed silently. I looked at the matted triangle
of her pubic hair, damp from the vibrator but still too thick for my
taste, she had an appointment with a razor tomorrow.
Next I moved a small table close enough to her
that she could reach it with some effort and placed the outfit on it
Then I cut the tape from her wrists and her hands before removing the
blindfold.
She stood blinking as sight returned. then immediately her hands flew
first to the back of her head where the gag was secured then to her
neck and the collar. In both cases she found small padlocks making
removal impossible. She murmured something then turned to face me. I
flexed the crop and smiled.
"From now on I will call you slave or cunt, you will call me master or
sir. You have no rights, I own you completely, even your body is mine,
understand?" Her big blue eyes just stared at me incredulously.
"I want an answer slave, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" This time when there was
no answer I slapped her breast with the crop, she jerked to attention.
I pulled the crop back as if I was going to strike her face, she held
up her arms and cowered.
"Understand?"
She nodded.
"Good, lesson one obey first time every time and you'll avoid
punishment. If you don't you'll soon understand what pain really
means.
Clear?"
She nodded, this time the response was much quicker.
"You are here as a sex slave, as your master I will use your body as I
see fit for my personal pleasure. You will obey me immediately and do
the same for any others I designate. If you obey orders and don't try
to escape you will avoid punishment, if not the severity of the
punishment will increase. I won't kill you unless, you threaten my
life or my security but push me too far and I can permanently
disfigure you. Understand?"
Again the nod, this time however she was looking at the ground so I
put the end of the crop under her chin and raised her head so that I
could stare into her frightened eyes. I pointed to the clothes on the
table with the crop.
"Put those on."
She looked at them, on top was a shiny black latex bustier, at various
points the rubber had been ribbed to provide support making it
resemble a space age corset. She turned to me and I could see that she
was thinking about it.
"Put it on."
She continued to just stand, I had brought some handcuffs with me in
case she was difficult. I was going to cuff her hands and punish her
when suddenly I saw a better solution. I pulled the table back out of
her reach and smiled. "We'll see how you feel in the morning." I said
and turned towards the stairs. I was halfway up them when I heard her
frantic mewing. She had realized that eventually her legs would tire
and that she would be choked by the leash. I went back down stairs.
"Ready to cooperate?"
She looked at the floor, then nodded.
I offered her the bustier, but when she reached for it I snatched it
back.
"First, dance for me."
She looked confused.
"Obey me first time, every time remember? This is your punishment,
I'm going to go easy on you this time. Now dance or I'm off to bed."
Slowly she started to gyrate as much as the chain would let her.
"Is that the best you can do? Sexy, Slave I want you to dance sexy."
I didn't think she was really trying so I applied the crop to the
sections that didn't move enough. She yelped a little but after about
the first dozen she was doing the best she could. I could tell that
the nakedness troubled her. Right now she would rather wear the kinky
clothes than stay like this. Most of my blows had been to make her
move her hands from breast or crotch, I figured if she wanted to touch
them that much I should encourage her.
I smiled, "I'm afraid that you've proved you don't deserve this fine
outfit. If you want it then you are going to have to earn it piece by
piece. Now cup your breasts and offer them to me. A muffled sound
came from behind the gag." "First lesson!" I said as I settled back
in a chair. She cupped her breasts in her hands and thrust her chest
at me while all the time gyrating to some imaginary tune. "Now play
with the nipples. When she hesitated I flicked the crop towards her.
She sobbed but her hands slid up her breasts and her thumbs flicked
the
brown nubs which soon hardened before her. I tossed the bustier to
her. "Slide it up and down your body." This time she complied
quickly, making involuntary crooning sounds as the cold latex touched
her hard, sensitive nipples. Finally I'd seen enough. "Ok now put it
on." She struggled into it, all the time eyeing the crop fearfully.
It fit her better than expected, forming a shiny second skin from just
below her nipples to just above her crotch. It was so tight that her
navel was clearly visible and her tits were trust up and out making
them appear even more prominent. The hard brown nubs of her nipples
stood to attention just above the top of the cups and just cried out
for attention. I began to regret not bringing some clamps with me.
Still there was time for that later.
I held up a long black latex glove.
"Play with yourself, you don't get it until you're wet."
She glanced at the glove then at the stairs. Then, while one hand
continued to stroke and fondle her latex covered breast and
nipple, the other drifted to her clit where she started to finger
herself. I looked at her, the eyes where now glazed and full of
silent tears. I tossed her the glove. "Get off with it, " I said.
She looked up eyes full of both humiliation and confusion. Grabbing
the other glove I passed it between my legs then with one hand holding
from the front and the other from the rear I slid it backwards and
forwards across my crotch. She looked on horrified and I was sure she
would die rather than do it. Then slowly with hands shaking she
copied my action dragging the slick glove backwards and forwards
across her cunt until the surface was wet with her cum. I made her
repeat the procedure for the second glove. Her hands were shaking
when she slowly pulled the gloves up her arms. I made her continue to
play with herself and the tactile stimulation of the smooth latex
seemed to seize her. Suddenly she closed her eyes arched her back and
started to play in earnest, oblivious to my presence. At first I was
tempted to whip her, then I remembered the discomfort she had shown at
my seeing her naked. Quietly I slipped back to the dungeon and took a
loaded camera from the cabinet. By this time she was so far gone that
she didn't realize what I was doing until I already had three shots.
She stood there horrified at what she was doing and of the thought
that
it was captured on film. I seized on her confusion and quickly tossed
her the latex stockings with instructions to put them on. I took more
photos as she pulled them up her legs and fastened them to the garters
of the bustier.
Next I passed her one of the five inch stiletto boots.
"Fuck yourself with the heel."
By now tears of humiliation and frustration were following down her
face, she looked at the floor sniffed and brought the heel up to her
cunt.
"You don't get the other one until I see you cum, understand?"
She nodded and started to move the heel in and out. I snapped more
photos, she stopped, sobbed and tried to say something.
"Keep it up," I said, "We don't have all night."
She tried to say something again. I brought the crop down on one of
her exposed nipples. She let out a muffled scream.
"You'll get one every 30 seconds until I see you cum, now do it cunt
or my god I'll make you suffer!"
She started in earnest ramming the heel in and out of her hole. True
to
my word I slapped her when the 30 seconds were up, after that
though it was unnescessary. She bucked and moaned her upper thighs
and the tops of her stockings now slick with her juices. Finally she
shivered and groaned, I just tossed her the other boot.
"Put them on."
She stood before me a vision in leather and latex, no slut or whore
could look more perfect. From the bondage elements of collar and gag,
though the sheer kinkyness of the outfit to her juices streaming down
her latex clad thighs I surveyed my slave. Behind the shame and
humiliation in her tear-filled eyes there still burned a trace of
defiance, something I could break over the next few months
as I molded her into my creature.
"If you had obeyed me first time an hour ago we could both have been
in bed by now and you could have saved yourself all this trouble."
She nodded, tears still rolling down her face. I tossed her some
leather cuffs. "Wrists and ankles, NOW!" She put them on without
hesitation all the while looking at me with those big eyes. I stepped
behind her and fastened the wrist cuffs together before adding a
hobble chain to the ones at her ankles. Then I removed the leash and
lead her to the chair next to the small table. Using some of the
straps I'd removed earlier I secured her to the chair. She was
unresisting, all rebellion temporarily crushed by humiliation and
shame.
I removed the gag and offered her a drink. She accepted then asked,
"Why me?"
"Because I wanted you," I said.
"But I ha..."
I slapped her mouth. She looked at me stunned. "Not *I*," I said,
"Only
a person can be an *I*. You are not a person, you're an object like
any possession. *YOU* don't exist anymore and haven't done since the
mome |
|
| |
|
