Chapter 3: Opening Events

I don’t think there has been a moment in my life that compares with the realization that I’d got her. My mind was full of possibilities, of the things I’d planed and of my slave. I fell to sleep that night with the image of my slave, bound, gagged and subdued in all her fetish finery burning itself into my brain.

I awoke full of life, reveling in my achievement. Although I’d read of many cases of sexual abduction (in fact studied many in preparation for this) no one had achieved what I had done.

I had a pretty coed bound and gagged in my basement, kidnapped from a busy alleyway in plain sight of at least a dozen people.

I felt like a god, now at last I had a woman who couldn’t say no, who wouldn’t lead me on and then dump me as Samantha had. I chuckled to myself, for now she was my prisoner but soon I would start to train her as my slave.

Slowly over the coming months, using torture, humiliation and sex I would slowly break her, destroying her identity, her self worth and gradually crushing her will until there would be nothing no mater how low or vile that she wouldn’t do if I ordered it.

I gradually let the megalomania sweep over me savoring every moment ... Then I pulled myself back into line and started exercising the personal discipline expected of the master of such a beautiful slave.

One feature of the house that had been in the design from the beginning was it’s audiovisual distribution system. In happier times I’d intended it to allow Sam and I to access cable, satellite or video from any part of the house.

It had proved extremely flexible and coupled with hidden camera’s from an enhanced security system gave me access to any room in the house.

Reaching for a remote I turned on the bedroom monitor and entered the security code that accessed the camera in Caroline’s cell.

Caroline slept fitfully under the dimmed lights of the room. Her position had changed little since I’d left her.

Her hair was tousled though still held it it’s makeshift ponytail. A few blonde strands had escaped and lay on her pillow next to the damp patch where she had drooled past the gag.

She looked so helpless that I was half tempted to go down and wake her, but I’d been planning this for months and could wait.

With remarkable resolve given the circumstances I turned off the monitor, bathed, dressed and went downstairs.

In my haste to get Caroline inside last night I’d left the car next to the side door instead of in the garage.

Whilst this wasn’t a problem (the driveway has a gate) part of me wanted to get the car out of sight as soon as possible.

I backed the car into the garage then started to transfer it’s contents into a small storage room at the back.

Most of Caroline’s sparse belongings were destined for the bonfire, I’d only taken them to support the idea that she had moved out.

Some things however were more important and as I stacked the boxes for later sorting I came across exactly whatI’d been looking for, a small box full of her personal papers.

Finishing up I took the box inside and made myself breakfast.

The box contained the sorts of things you’d expect, High School diploma, family photo’s, letters. The real find for me though were the diaries, about a dozen of them ranging from exercise books to pretty little things with brass colored clasp locks. The collected thoughts of a girl from her early teens to the present, invaluable stuff for her kidnapper.

Ultimately these would be the skeleton keys that would allow me to unlock her mind and give me access to the deep personal places I’d have to violate if she was ever really to be my slave. For now however they had a more practical use.

The kidnapping itself had gone without a hitch, my “Bum” rouse had allowed me to take her in broad daylight surrounded by people.

In addition the loss of her job and apartment had given her a good motive to disappear.

For the moment her friends would think she was at home and her family would think she was still at university, it was perfect.

Unfortunately it was also temporary.

Sooner or latter some friend would try calling her at home or family letters would be returned unanswered. Eventually the alarm would be raised.

The police would investigate and it could be that they would find something I’d overlooked.

Alternatively they could find a witness who remembered the strange student in Caroline’s building on the day she disappeared or someone who could place a man in the alleyway that evening.

I needed to buy time for memories to fade or better yet, direct people’s attention away from that area all together.

In short I needed letters, cheery postcards sent to favored relatives, excited jottings to friends all in saying the same thing.

“I’m alive, free and happy living in another state.”

I had no doubt I could get her cooperation, apart from physical torture I controlled all aspects of her life from food and drink to when and if she went to the toilet.

Eventually when she’d been conditioned to obey that would be unnecessary, but for now I needed information.

I needed a source from which I could verify birthdays and the existence of relatives. Whilst I intended for her letters to appear self absorbed and mention as little as possible that could be verified, missing a favorite aunts birthday could give the family a clue that something was wrong.

Yet I had to be able to check her writings so that she could not pass a distress message in the letters. The diaries would be my verification.

I started sorting through the books wondering how difficult it would be to break the spines and scan them into a database. Then suddenly I came across something odd.

One of the pretty notebooks with the brass clasps had been forced.

At first I assumed she’d lost the key though this didn’t make much sense as the locks are principally decorative and a key from any of the earlier diaries would fit.

Then I noticed that some of the pages had been torn out.

The book covered summer of three years ago around the time of her fifteenth birthday.

I decided to look into this later. For now however, I divided my time between eating breakfast, reading her mail and watching “Caroline TV”.

Her bound form was just as tempting as ever. She thrashed around on the bed in a feeble attempt to wiggle free. Then she spent about twenty minutes rubbing her mouth against the edge of the bed trying to work the gag free. Finally, realizing that escape was futile she lay back down and sobbed.

Looking down I found I was hard again. Summoning up my self control I managed to go to my study and knock off a quick thousand words on “Power PC vs. Pentium” for my New York publisher.

In breaks for inspiration I continued through her mail and made a startling discovery.

Caroline was the daughter of the REVEREND Charles Conway and his wife Judith. Quickly I paged through the photo albums until I found what I wanted.

The family portrait was not inspiring, an older dour looking man, the picture of a bible bashing Baptist stood next to his younger dowdy, once pretty wife. He looked fierce and unbending, Judith looked down, the perfect picture of subservience. One of the reverend’s eyes seemed fixed on the girls Caroline and her younger sister Anna, who stood with military stiffness before him.

Now Caroline’s drab taste in clothes began to make sense.

Suddenly I could also see a way to get her to write me those letters.

It would require some planning so I shelved it for now but the thought of it clawed at my mind and in the end I could resist no longer.

I quickly finishing up the article, hurried to the kitchen and made her a light breakfast of cereal and coffee then took it down to the dungeon.

In one corner of the room was a large heavy wooden kitchen table I had bought at a garage sale.

It had looked like the kind of thing grandma Walton used to bake pies on.

For my needs numerous D rings were attached to the frame, legs and top giving it a more sinister purpose.

For now however I needed it to be just a table. Pulling it into the center of the room I cleared the top of bondage paraphernalia then added an old wooden chair to which I had also added straps.

Pausing I realized that this would be a good time to test the most impressive addition I’d made to the chair.

Putting breakfast on the table I went to the locked cabinet and removed some extra pieces one of which I bolted to the chair the other I pocketed.

Then I went to awaken the slave.

She was lying much as I’d last seen her still bound and gagged, still in the latex outfit.

My erection returned as I unfastened the wire from the collar, hobbled her and lead her whining and struggling into the dungeon.

When we reached the chair she stopped struggling and stared in astonishment.

From the center of the seat a long polished wooden phallus emerged making the chair look like it had an erection.

She turned to look at me, eyes wide, head starting to shake.

She tried to say something, mouth chewing helplessly on the ball.

I pushed her towards the chair, she attempted to resist.

Needless to say I won, five inch stilettos being hard enough to walk in let alone anything else.

Hobbled, she couldn’t even brace herself and soon she was hovering over the wooden cock.

“It’s lubricated,” I said, “And it’s not that thick. It’s going to hurt less than the punishment you’ve just earned yourself.”

She continued to struggle, I really hadn’t expected anything else, but when penetration by the wooden rapist was inevitable she relaxed and allowed me to settle her on it.

Reaching into my pocket I produced its twin and waved it in front of her eyes. “Guess where this one goes slave.”

She looked at me beseechingly, knowing that she was helpless and silently begging for mercy. I crouched down and started to strap her ankles to the chair legs. It was a tough fight as she struggled to keep her legs closed. But she was in an impossible position and once her legs where strapped open I found it surprisingly easy to slide the dildo inside her pussy.

The back of the phallus had a large bolt fastened to it and after burying the 7 inches of wood in the girl I pushed the bolt through a hole in the chair seat and fastened a nut to the other side.

There was a small wrench velcroed to the bottom of the seat which I used to tighten the nut before pocketing it.

Caroline and the chair were now effectively bolted together, there was no way she could stand or walk and without a wrench and a lot of time no way she could get free.

Now, with her legs strapped open the wooden intruder was obvious but I could see that hidden beneath a full skirt it would be difficult to see anything amiss.

I thought of the other chair I had upstairs, the one with the nice finish and just the mountings for the dildos. Dressed in regular clothes and bolted to the chair I could take photo’s of Caroline with no obvious restraints.

I smiled, the family could expect a few pictures with her letters.

Returning to my slave I chained her collar to the table, freed her hands and pulled the gag from her mouth.

Rather than remove it completely I let it hang around her neck like a strange fetish necklace, a constant reminder that I could enforce her silence at any time.

She picked up the coffee and drank greedily, I topped up the cup.

She drained that also, then as I moved the cereal towards her she spoke.

“Sir...”

“I prefer Master,” I said with a smile.

“Err, Master ... Erm please let me go ... I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. I want to go home, please.”

I suppose that my sadistic side had free reign at that moment because instead of telling her to shut up and eat her cereal I decided to play with her.

“You must realize, Cunt, that taking you wasn’t a whim. I’ve invested quite a lot of time and money in this affair. To return you now would put me at a lot of risk even if I could trust you not to run to the police. What could you offer me in return?”

She swallowed nervously, calling her `Cunt’ like that had rattled her self confidence. “I ... I could suck you...”

The look on my face must have told her this wasn’t enough for in a whisper she added, “Or we could do it ... If you want.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “Where you offering sex?”

She nodded, speechless.

“In that case I want you to say, you can FUCK me Master, If you want.”

“You can ... fuck me Master. If you want.”

“Louder!”

“YOU CAN FUCK ME MASTER, IF YOU WANT...”

“Much better.

“Tempting as your offer is, the reality of your situation is that I could tie you to this table in five minutes and fuck your brains out whether you liked it or not.

“I could do the same tomorrow and the next day and the next.

“You can’t bargain with what you don’t own, and your body, together with the rest of you is now mine.”

She looked dejected then she started jabbering. Telling me I would be caught and punished and she wished I was dead and...

In the end only the threat of the gag got her to shut up and eat.

When she’d finished I hobbled her again and unbolted her from the chair. As I helped her up off the shit covered phallus I was reminded of something.

“Did you use the John?”

She looked at me speechless.

“The chemical toilet, did you use it?”

She nodded.

“Good ‘cos that’s the last chance you’ll have for a while.”

I took her to the wall and chained her to the gridwork whilst I collected a few things from the cabinet.

First thing I did when I got back was try to gag her again. The gag was not strictly necessary as the room was soundproofed but it helped reinforce her helplessness and a knew she didn’t like it.

The ball gag was decorative but not very effective so leaving it where it was I held a padded gag against her mouth.

This type of gag has a very large soft rubber mouthpiece fastened to a padded leather section that is strapped over the mouth.

It was, I suppose a non inflatable version of the gag I’d fitted her with the night before.

This time however she closed her mouth firmly and refused to open it.

I smiled. “You must really like to be punished,” I said, “It’s going to take me most of the day just to work off what you’ve earned so far.”

Her eyes widened.

“Oh yes you’re going to be punished for last night, you didn’t think I’d forgotten did you?” I could tell by the look in her eyes that SHE had forgotten.

“Open up like a good girl and I’ll forgive you this time. This is pointless anyway, the room is soundproofed so even without the gag you are just as helpless.”

She shook her head defiantly, I could see that a lesson was in order.

Going to the cabinet I retrieved a posture collar and a roll of duct tape. Removing the ball gag from her neck I fitted the posture collar firmly in place.

Of course she resisted but the ponytail made an excellent handhold and after five minutes her old collar was replaced by a high stiff one that stopped her turning her head.

A couple of straps between the gridwork and the collar and she was fastened to the wall facing me.

Slowly, deliberately, I stuck strip after strip of tape over her closed lips.

I think she thought I was trying to gag her a different way because she just stood there smugly.

She seemed a little amused when I went into her cell and returned moments later with a strip of toilet paper.

One thing was certain however she wasn’t laughing when I shoved a small ball of toilet paper up each nostril and sealed it there with tape.

She started to cry out and thrash as much as she could.

I just added tape if a leak appeared in her mouth covering and waited.

All the activity burnt the air in her lungs quickly and before long she stopped thrashing, face red, eye’s bulging as she strained against the bonds, lungs screaming for the oxygen I’d denied them.

“Perhaps I should gag you this way instead,” I suggested, watching as wild panic and desperation consumed her.

Then suddenly I reached out and in one move tore the tape mask from her lower face. She let out an explosive breath and with mouth wide open drew in her first lung full of life giving air. I gagged her, shoving the mouthpiece into her wide, open mouth just as she finished that first breath.

It was large enough to stay put without the straps so next I removed the tape and paper from her nose.

Then I tightened the gag. I think she was just happy to breath as I had no further trouble.

I held one of the toilet paper balls in front of her wide eyes.

“This is a lesson. You are helpless, so helpless I can take your life with toilet paper if I wanted to. First time, EVERY time slave, this is not optional.

“Next time you try to stop me gagging you the tape stays on twice as long, keep it up and I may decide that you aren’t worth the trouble and leave it on, understand??”

She nodded.

That settled I continued with the preparations. I replaced the hobble with a spreader bar forcing her legs open into a wide triangle.

I could tell that she didn’t like being this exposed, but experience was starting to teach her that resistance could offer worse things than just pain.

I left her wrists cuffed together but added straps to her upper arms that also helped to pull her shoulders back and push her tits out.

To help this along even further I threaded a rope from her elbow straps to her wrists then from there through a D ring in the center of the spreader bar.

Pulling on it pulled her arms down, arched her back and thrust the tits out further.

Releasing her from the wall I dragged her under a ring to which I attached her collar.

Next came the butt plug.

She looked at me puzzled as I approached her with it then as I pushed it’s greased surface inside her ass she squirmed and made small noises behind the gag.

I started to unwind the wires attached to it, before packing her cunt with a large metal studded rubber dildo with similar attachments.

I fastened the wires to a small metal box which I clipped to the spreader bar, covered twat and ass with a pair of snap on leather panties and I was almost set.

I finally got to do something I’d looked forward to since I’d seen her nice tits. The nipple clamps had a small length of chain between them and must have looked like jewelry because she didn’t start struggling until I clipped the first one on.

Even then there was little she could do her body being forced into a tight stiff pose by the strict bondage. I clipped the second one on the other nipple then freed the rope fastened to her wrists and pulled until she was bent back as far as I thought she could stand.

Then I tied the rope to the nip clamp’s chain. Now any attempt to lean forward would drag on the chain which in turn would pull on the clamps, these were the type that bit harder as pressure increased.

She moaned and tried to say something looking at me with large accusing eyes, still that I could fix. I fitted her with the padded blindfold I’d used on her the night before.

The posture collar stopped any of the struggling nonsense this time and when I was finished only her nose was not covered by shiny black leather.

Next I attached a couple of small arms from the box to the wrist rope where it went through the spreader bar.

Then I attached two cables from the box to the wall, one AC power the other to the building ethernet.

Caroline started to twitch as the dildo and butt plus started their low frequency vibration. As she squirmed she pulled on the rope attached to her nipples and slowly tortured herself.

I looked at her as she winced and writhed, vision in leather and latex.

The butt of the dildo was pushed tight, straining against the leather panties looking for all the world like a small cylindrical dick.

As I watched it began to move as her cunt muscles squeezed it out and the tight panties forced it back in.

I knew that the vibration though stimulating was not enough to bring her off instead she would have to stand there in a state of sexual frustration until I chose to release her. However being a considerate sort I’d arranged a small distraction.

“Slave,” She ignored me trapped in her private world. “Slave,” I slapped her right nipple with the crop which got her attention.

“Frustrating isn’t it?” Of course she had no way of answering, the posture collar stopped all head movement and gag and blindfold dealt with everything else.

“The good news is that the vibrator will go faster the further forward you lean. She lent forward a little and sure enough the pitch of the vibrator increased, of course the clamps did painful things to her nipples. She leaned back and suddenly went crazy struggling and screaming in pain.

“Lean forward!” I commanded. she seemed in too much pain to notice me so I grabbed her shoulders and pulled forward.

Immediately the pressure on the nipples increased and she tried to struggle more. I held her there and the pain subsided.

“That was the bad news, periodically a small electrical shock will be administered to your cunt and anus. To switch it off you need to lean forward and hold the pose for five seconds. Every time the shock comes it will have a higher intensity and will take longer to shut off.”

Again she tried to say something, but I continued, “Just before the shock you will hear my voice giving you an instruction. Obey it and the shock will be avoided. fail and you know what happens.”