Chapter 15

Back when her parents tried to get her to attend the Schermer retreat, Lindsey should have been more suspicious when her father caved so easily. Suspicion, however, was not yet a big part of her nature. She had no reason to suspect her parents of doing anything drastic to her, certainly nothing physical. They were closed-minded, mean-spirited, suspicious, paranoid - the list of their passive faults was very long. But there was no reason to suspect them of any form of violence.

What had changed in the case of the retreat was the introduction of money into the situation. The Halls had paid thousands of dollars to have their daughter salvaged. In their total stupidity they actually expected her to go. Floyd thought that just assuming an authoritative demeanor would win the battle and Lindsey would go to the retreat instead of the concert.

Floyd was astute enough to realize right away that he had badly misjudged his influence over his daughter. He could have just folded and accepted defeat, except for the 'non-refundable' stipulation on the retreat registration. He was not a penurious man by any means, but this was significant money. Besides that, the money loss accentuated his demotion as an authority figure.

After several phone calls, Floyd had obtained an appointment with Frank Schermer. There, he explained the problem. Frank matter-of-factly told him that they frequently had 'reluctant' attendees, and that he and Mary should bring her by force, if necessary. The idea jolted Floyd, especially when he had to admit that he doubted if he could accomplish it, physically. Frank graciously agreed to arrange for Lindsey to be brought to the retreat, for an extra fee. When Floyd shared their concern about her leaving town for the concert, Frank agreed to a pickup a day earlier.

Lindsey had no knowledge of her father's machinations as she waited for Mark to join her for their trip to the airport. As she chatted with Trish, a van pulled up behind Lindsey's car. A young woman was driving, and two college-aged boys got out and walked up to the girls.

"Lindsey Hall?" one asked. Not waiting for a reply, he told her "we're here to take you to Rev. Schermer's retreat."

"I'm not going to the retreat. I have to catch a plane for Ft. Worth."

"But your parents have paid for it, and they insist you attend. Rev. Schermer told us to make sure you got there."

"You're crazy! My parents know I'm going to sing at a concert. Now leave me alone! Trish, run get some help!" Lindsey bolted for the driver's door, and the second boy moved to intercept her. Trish had been frozen in place, but seeing the boy moving toward her friend, she ran right at him and threw a shoulder into him.

The boy was knocked off balance, but he was large, and apparently quite strong. He threw Trish aside roughly, sending her banging into the next car, then sliding to the ground, stunned. Meanwhile, the first boy caught Lindsey by the upper arm.

At first, Lindsey was terrified, but anger quickly took over. She had her backpack full of books in her hand, and swung it at her attacker as best she could with one arm. It barely affected him, but he did release her arm for a moment. Acting strictly on instinct, Lindsey spun to face him, and with a yell, kicked hard at his crotch. The blow connected partially, enough to double him over for a moment.

By now, the second boy was reaching for her, and a hurried kick at him missed. She was yelling and screaming Mark's name, and when he grabbed her, she raked his face with her fingernails.

Both of the boys were 'graduates' of Rev. Schermer's retreats. Both had troubled pasts, but had straightened out their lives. They were now part of the retreat staff who had been ordered to fetch Lindsey. The Halls had paid a handsome sum for Frank to 'straighten out' their daughter. He had ordered the boys to get her there, never thinking it would resort to violence.

The boys, on their part, were very devoted to Frank, but they did not expect any level of trouble, either. Both had familiar with fighting from their pasts, and the current scene triggered instincts that were near the surface. The boy Lindsey scratched reacted without thought and backhanded her across the mouth, splitting her lip.

Instead of being shocked into inaction, Lindsey became more enraged, ducking under his reaching arm, trying to run back toward the school. The other boy was recovering from the kick, and reached out his arm to grab her. His hand hit her right in the eye.

At this moment, Mark ran up, having heard Lindsey yelling. He tried to get to Lindsey as she covered her wounded eye. The boy, however, saw him coming, and now in a rage, caught Mark in the stomach with a full force blow. As Mark gasped for breath, one boy took each of Lindsey's arms and they dragged her into the van. They were barely inside when the driver took off.

It took several seconds before Mark could even look up to see what was happening. Fortunately, Trish was thinking, and when she recovered, looked carefully at the van, memorizing the license number, and as much as she could about its appearance. Seeing Mark's distress, she hurried over to help him, then reached for her cell phone.

"Lindseys' keys are in her bag! Let's follow!" she yelled at Mark as she dialed 911. By the time he dug out the keys, the van was long gone, and they had no idea which direction. Both of them in tears from frustration, they had to wait for the police. Trish told Mark about the altercation, making him all the more angry.

It took the police forty minutes to arrive, probably because they did not really believe the kidnapping report. Mark had a cell phone, a requirement for being a Transformations employee. Sonja had given him her number, and he called and told her the news. She was enraged when she heard her brother was involved. She had him hold for a moment, then came back and told him to call when there was any news, no matter what time it was. She gave him Chris's and Jenny's numbers, and the number of the hotel where they would be staying. She just assumed he would not be flying without Lindsey.

They spent an hour with the police, and Mark had a chance to plan what to do. They knew who had her, and had identification of the van. With the long delay, it was unlikely the van would still be on the road. From what Trish said, her parents were behind it, so that was a good place to start.

On the way to the Halls', both Mark and Trish called their parents to let them know what was happening. Mark also called Eric's cell and explained the situation. He asked if Harv could be any help. He was not at all sure the police could act in time for Lindsey to join the concert group, and he was determined to do everything in his power to let her sing.

Only Mary was home when they got to the Halls', and Mark pushed his way in very impolitely. "Where is the retreat they took Lindsey to?" he demanded.

"That's not your business. Now, please leave," Mary said angrily.

"Listen, if you don't want to be included in the kidnapping charges, you'd better tell us. The police will be here shortly."

"Police?" Mary said in some alarm. "Kidnapping? What are you talking about? They just gave her a ride to the seminar."

"They took her by force. They hit her in the face, twice, and dragged her into a van. They knocked Trish down and hit me. That's kidnapping. So help me, if Lindsey misses that concert, you will go to jail. Besides that, you will get your pants sued off."

"Watch your mouth, Young Man. Lindsey will not be singing at any more of those ungodly concerts. It is our duty to keep her from falling into that trap and we did what we had to. I don't know where she is, and I would not tell you if I did. Now, get out."

"The police are pulling up, so we will leave you to them." Seeing the truth of Mark's statement, Mary lost her bluster very quickly. She did a very good impression of a panicked mother, but for the wrong reasons.

In the van, Lindsey was pulled roughly into the second seat, crammed between the two boys. One of them looked very distraught while the other looked angry. The young woman driving spoke first "What were you guys thinking? This is crazy! You hit her!"

"Well, he said to make sure she got there. What were we supposed to do when she started fighting?" the angry boy demanded.

"Let her go! I'm sure the Reverend didn't mean to bring her that way."

"It's too late, now. Just drive!"

There was no doubt Lindsey was terrified, but she was still angry enough to keep from panic. As she heard the exchange between her captors, she became convinced that she really had the upper hand. She made the decision that she would not act like the victim. "Yeah, it's too late. You're all guilty of kidnapping. You might make it better if you take me back right now. Otherwise, get ready for jail."

None of the three responded for a moment. Then, the driver said "Don't be silly. They would never charge us when we're just carrying out your parents' wishes."

"Do you want to take a chance and investigate the age of consent, or do you want to play it safe and take me back. The longer you keep me, the worse it gets. Did you know if it's twenty-four hours, the FBI steps in? Do you want trouble from them?"

From their previous brushes with the law, the two boys could not think of turning back. The driver did not know what to think. As a result, the van continued on toward its destination.

Lindsey decided more talk was useless. She would save her energy for an escape attempt when the chance presented itself. Also, she would use her energy to memorize the route they were taking her, as they did not blindfold her or try to hide where they were going. She had no idea how she would get her location out to anyone. All she knew was that she would not give up trying.

By far Lindsey's biggest immediate fear was missing the concert. That fear, though was eclipsed by her anger - anger at what had been done to her, and anger at what had happened to Trish and Mark, the two people most dear to her. On top of the fear and the anger, her newly-evolved competitive nature came into play. She could not let these stupid, misguided people win.

After a forty minute drive, the van stopped and the boys took Lindsey's arms to lead her into a multi-story brick building. As she stepped down, she pushed off the running board with all her might, right into the boy on her left, the angry one. Knocked off balance, he grabbed for her. All he could reach was her blouse. As both of them fell, Lindsey got a foot under herself and tried again to push away. He hung on and she fell, tumbling away from him. The blouse ripped completely off of her and she fell hard to the tarmac. Her elbow and shoulder were scraped, and she tore out one knee of her slacks, leaving her kneecap torn and bloody.

She was hurt, her blouse was gone, and she should have been terrified. But a change had come over Lindsey. Just as she became a different person when she sang, the stress and the danger triggered a determination she did not know she had. Rolling to her knees, she ignored the pain, and was running by the time she reached her feet.

As athletic and determined as Lindsey was, the other boy was just as quick and determined, and he was much stronger. When Lindsey was again firmly held between the two boys, she spat out. "Good. Now I can add sexual assault to the charges. You jerks will spend a long time in jail." Somehow, that got through and one of the boys took off his shirt and put it over her shoulders.

"If you had just come along quietly, none of this would have happened," the driver scolded her.

"You had no right to take me. I did not want to go. That makes it kidnapping." After that, Lindsey said no more as they led her into the building. They took her up a flight of stairs and down a hallway to a sleeping room with an attached bathroom. As they were about to shut the door on her, she turned and asked "Does this jail at least have a first aid kit?"

"Stop talking like that!" the driver said in frustration. "We're just giving you a chance to get right with the Lord and straighten out your life. We've all done it. You'll thank us afterward."

"No, I'll see you in jail afterward. And stop pretending this has anything to do with the Lord! You all are nothing but Frank Schermer's stooges. Now get me some first aid stuff before I get infected."

They did get her some elementary first aid supplies, and they brought her a Subway about seven. Other than that, she saw no one the rest of the night. She was able to find out that the retreat started the next afternoon. Apparently, her parents had her picked up when she was to keep her from leaving on her trip. It looked like she would be there a very long time.

Lindsey's overwhelming thought was anger at missing her chance at the concert. It was a repeat of what had been happening her whole life. She had been denied or restricted from things most kids took for granted. It had been hammered into her that everyone else was wrong. As she grew old enough to make her own judgements on what things were truly wrong, it became harder and harder to swallow her parents' dictums. More and more they seemed arbitrary and baseless.

She was obviously the victim of a poorly planned operation. It was clear to her that Rev. Schermer himself did not know how she had been treated. He would not possibly condone kidnapping. As she pondered, she came up with two possible outcomes when he learned what had happened. The most logical would be to release her immediately, claiming no knowledge that she had been taken by force. That would be the best way to protect himself and his ministry. On the negative side, throwing her captors to the law would destroy his credibility with his young followers.

If he was arrogant enough, Rev. Schermer might try to 'brainwash' her into becoming another devoted follower, forgetting all about how she was handled. It was hard for Lindsey to believe anyone would take that risk, but she clearly remembered her captors, and how almost robotic they seemed.

She felt grubby and sore, and a shower would have felt very good. She had no clean clothes, and she was afraid to undress even to shower. There was soap, towels, and a small bottle of shampoo in the bathroom. As she looked around the room, it appeared to be intended as a guest room, rather than a holding cell. She knew the door was locked from the outside and she saw there was also a deadbolt on the inside. Just because it gave her a feeling of some control, she closed the deadbolt.

As further evidence that the Reverend was not expecting a prisoner, the window in the room had no bars over it, and when she tried, it opened easily. Unfortunately, it was two stories to the ground. As further evidence that they had not planned on a captive, the window looked out over the main entrance.

Because of how she felt, and because there was nothing else to occupy her time, she filled the tub and took a long soak. She washed and rinsed her hair, then refilled the tub and soaked some more.

The warm water against her skin, combined with the excitement of her capture, made her more aware of her body than usual. Her mind drifted back to the talk of masturbation in Amy's hot tub. Strangely, the instinctive horror at the idea of touching herself, pounded into her all her life, just did not surface this time.

If these despicable people and her despicable parents were against pleasuring oneself, it must be a good and proper thing to do. In that angry and combative state of mind, she let her hand drift down to her crotch. There was still the instinct to recoil at the illicit touch, but she quelled it and began stimulating herself.

Lack of knowledge was not the reason Lindsey had never done it before. She was bright and inquisitive, and had all the pertinent facts. It was the belief that it was sinful that had always stayed her hand. These... these idiots who had her locked up hear thought it was sinful. Wouldn't they be shocked to know that right now their prisoner was rubbing her pleasure center for all it was worth? Wouldn't they be scandalized to see her pulling on her super-hard nipple? Wouldn't they... ?

All concern about what anyone thought of her or of anything else was swept from her consciousness by a tsunami of sensations the like of which she had never imagined. All the anger, the pain, the frustration, and the sheer nervous tension streamed together at her center and raced outward to her entire body. It felt like not a single cell escaped the high energy charge that roared through her again and again. Unaware of how many waves crashed over her or how long the flood lasted, she lay in the tub, first rigid and unbending, then lurching in uncontrolled convulsions, and finally twitching in random follow-up tremors.

Thought did not return to her as anything recognizable. Rather, it was like replaying her mental evolution from infancy on, only at high speed. When something like full cognition was attained, her first mental activity was wonder, immediately followed by puzzlement. Why had everyone tried to keep her from that? How could anyone deny that to themselves? Or to anyone else? Was it always like that?

Without bidding, her hands strove to answer her last question as they returned to the triggers of her explosion of ecstasy. She recoiled as she touched her clit, not from the old hangups, but because it was too sensitive to take direct touch. Instead of removing her hand, though, she experimented with what touches she could tolerate. For many minutes, she avoided direct contact with just the one area, instead exploring everywhere else between her legs, seeking out any spot or any touch that would lead back to another climax.

Mentally slapping down any guilt-based hesitancy, she explored her genital folds in a whole new way. She stroked and squeezed every indentation and every protrusion. She thrust her finger into that cavity that had previously been too hallowed for inspection. She even reached back behind the termination of her outer labia, investigating all the way to her anus. Of course, she had carefully washed herself all over the area before, but this was different. Before, she had tried to avoid stimulation as she washed. Now, she sought anything that would stimulate.

It was not many minutes before her arousal built back up, and when she again tried her clit, the tenderness was gone, replaced by a new, exciting kind of sensitivity. With no vestiges of hesitancy left, she did everything she could remember from before and added new things she had discovered. This time, it took longer, and the result was not as cataclysmic. But it certainly was no cause for disappointment. In fact, being fully aware of the entire event enhanced her overall pleasure.

Lindsey had faced one of her major demons and slain it well and truly. She knew without a doubt that getting herself off would become a regular, treasured part or her life. By that time, she had been in the water so long her fingers were wrinkling, so she wearily pulled herself out.

After drying off, she was about to pull on her panties, but her naturally fastidious nature rebelled at the thought. Aware that she might be left without dry underwear to put on, she washed them out, wrung them as dry as she could, and laid them on a dry hand towel. She repeated the process with her bra, quite sure that it would not be wearable by morning. She shook her head at her lack of concern about going braless, something she had never done before.

An even more serious problem faced Lindsey as she considered going to bed. She had no nightclothes, and not even her own shirt. She had never in her life slept nude, but it looked like the only alternative. Before thinking about sleep, she had to take some kind of action to escape the place. There was not much available to her in the room, but she started a more thorough exploration. It felt very uncomfortable to be walking about naked, but the thought of how her captors would feel about it made her chuckle. The bath towels were too small to wrap around her and she did not want to put on her torn slacks and the boy's shirt until she had to.

Speculating that it must have been from her new experience in the tub, she was more aware of the sensation of the air against parts of her usually covered. She had felt this before, but then, it had sent her scurrying for clothes. Now, it was a gentle reminder of the feelings that had engulfed her in the tub.

In mid-step, a revelation struck her: Mark had lived naked for three weeks! He must have felt this! The mere thought of him triggered another whole wave of feelings. For the same reasons she had never masturbated, she had restrained herself from expressing her feelings for him.

There was no longer any reason not to masturbate, and a compelling reason to do it. There was no longer any reason not to let Mark know how she felt. There were a thousand reasons to pour out her real feelings to him. Like an epiphany, she was flooded with a new, unrestrained longing to be with Mark; to hug him for all she was worth; to share her first kiss with him; to tell him again and again of her love. When she was finally with him again, she would never let go!

There was no doubt in her mind that she would be with Mark again. These were not kidnappers for ransom. They were not white slavers. There was also no way they could make her be like them. But they could steal her concert date, and she would not concede that to them. With renewed urgency, she resumed her search of the room.

The only important finds she made were a pencil and a note pad. She wrote out several identical notes that said 'Please help. Call Mark and tell him Lindsey is here' she then wrote Mark's cell number, the next day's date, and 'God Bless You'. She was as certain as anything that he would have his phone on until they were back together.