Captured Caroline. by Quin
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Chapter 1: The Selection and Capture of a Slave.
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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 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.
