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.