Captured Caroline



 
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



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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
 



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