Chapter 3

As soon as I awoke, I decided to check in on Olivia. Slipping on my dressing gown and then the mask, I heard her voice calling out as I walked towards her room.

"I need to pee. I'm desperate," she gasped as soon as she saw me.

I quickly untied her and watched as she clambered off the bed. Her legs wobbled and I rushed to provide support as the lingering traces of the drug left her slightly shaky on her feet.

She sat back down heavily, gathering up her wits before she made a second attempt. I offered my hand but she shook her head, proceeding more carefully now that she was forewarned. "I must have got up too quick," she concluded. I did nothing to convince her otherwise.

Returning from the toilet, her expression turned to one of concern as she noticed me dressed in my night clothes. She edged carefully back towards the bed, never taking her eyes from me for an instant.

"Toast?" I asked.

"Cornflakes," she requested moodily.

"Sit on the bed. I'll be back in a little while."

I locked the door behind me and prepared breakfast for both of us. Balancing the tray on my arm, I opened the door but became suspicious when she was nowhere in sight.

"Olivia!" I called out.

Placing the tray down on the floor, I entered the room and searched around in vain. The door to the bathroom was ajar and I rushed over to investigate. A crash from behind drew my attention. In her hurry to escape, Olivia sent the cereal bowls flying. She'd obviously hidden behind the door and I'd carelessly neglected to check.

The pursuit through the house could have only one outcome and I soon cornered her in the kitchen. She rattled the back door, crying out in frustration as she attempted to force it open.

"It's locked," I informed her. "You can't get out."

The girl turned to face me, grim determination written across her face. She searched desperately around and her eyes settled on the knife block perched on the adjacent work surface. Her frantic leap was intercepted as my body collided with hers, bearing her to the ground and pinning her hands above her head. She tried to butt me with her head but when that failed, she spat in my face and attempted to wriggle free.

The wrestling match ended with her sobbing tearfully. "Don't hurt me."

I pulled her to her feet and dragged her out of the room, pausing only to pick up a damp cloth from the draining board. She whimpered as I frogmarched her along the corridor to her room. Pushing the cloth into her hands, I indicated the mess that the spilled breakfast had created on the carpet.

"Clean it up," I ordered.

Too afraid to protest, she dropped to her knees and scrubbed until the worst of the stains had been removed.

Ten minutes later, she was secured to the bed once more, looking up at me with an expression of disgust. "Go on then," she snarled. "I know it's what you've been waiting for."

I glanced down to observe my penis poking through a gap in the gown; the act of restraining her had produced an erection. Slightly ashamed, I restored my decency and took a step backwards. The awkward moment persisted as I realised she thought I was about to force myself upon her.

Blushing, I fled from the room. "No breakfast for you, young lady," I told her as I slammed the door shut. I closed my eyes and leant against the wall, my heart beating hard within my chest. It was disturbing to acknowledge the effect she'd had on me.

Jane, my previous girlfriend, was twenty-three. She'd possessed a healthy sex drive and had demonstrated no reluctance to experiment. I'd introduced her to a little play bondage and she soon willingly indulged my wildest fantasies. I would tie her to the bed and tease her to distraction with anything that came to hand; feathers, ice cubes, and even once a course-bristled hairbrush that had her begging for mercy when applied to her sensitive nipples. At the end of a long evening, I would cover her body with mine and screw her until she screamed in ecstasy.

Soon however, like most of my relationships, the candle burnt down and the two of us realised we lacked sufficient things in common to furnish the foundation for anything permanent.

My thoughts returned to Olivia. I couldn't deny that I found her attractive in a physical sense, despite the obvious difference in our ages. Other than Sandra, my one prime exception, I'd always favoured partners significantly younger than myself. I kept myself physically active and, coupled with my boyish charm and unending generosity, usually had no problem attracting female company.

After showering and getting dressed, I let Olivia suffer in silence for the remainder of the morning before eventually taking pity, donning the mask, and returning to her room.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"Sorry for what you did or sorry that you didn't manage to get away?"

"I'm worried what's going to happen to me. It won't happen again."

"Hmm." I didn't believe her for an instant.

"Are you hungry?"

She nodded.

"Do you like pizza?"

She nodded again. "Can I have some more Coke?"

"It'll rot your teeth."

I withered under her look of total disdain.

I sliced a large pizza into six segments, allowing us to eat it without the need for implements. She burped with the gas from the fizzy drink.

"Have you spoken to my dad?" she asked.

"I'll leave him to stew for a day or so first."

"How are you going to prove that you have me?"

"I'll be sending him undeniable evidence."

"You're not going to do anything like cut my finger off and send it to him, are you?" she asked, a little nervously.

"I think you watch too much TV. I've already taken some pictures of you. There'll be no room for doubt."

"Oh, I see."

I took hold of her wrist and began to tie it to the bed.

"You don't need to," she protested.

"I'll be the judge of that."

She reluctantly allowed me to secure her opposite wrist but I left her ankles loose as a gesture of goodwill, not as though she'd done anything to deserve it.

I left her alone and sat quietly in the lounge, wondering what I'd let myself in for. It had all seemed so simple last week, but now that the game was in play I began to wonder what other eventualities I'd not taken into account. I'd expected the girl to be quiet and unassuming, probably afraid of what was in store for her. Instead, she was wilful and obstreperous, desperately in need of being taken down a peg or two. Doubtless money and Raymond's influence had set a shining example for her to follow.

I turned on the TV. The news carried no report of her abduction but this was no surprise to me. Raymond always valued his privacy and the public knowledge of his daughter's kidnapping would doubtless attract a deluge of prospective ransom requests from opportunists hoping to cash in.

Tomorrow, I would transmit my demands using the anonymous email proxy that I'd configured for the occasion. The message would hop from server to server, leaving little chance of the authorities ever determining its origin. The return path would employ secure servers in the former Soviet Union that would require months of effort to unravel the tortuous lengths that I'd taken to disguise their location. The people that I once worked for used them to co-ordinate much of their criminal enterprise.

In the evening, I made a small pile of sandwiches and we played cards. Afterwards, I allowed her the opportunity to take a shower. She returned and lay atop the bed, attired in a clean t-shirt and short skirt.

The drinking chocolate was waiting for her. It had cooled whilst she showered. She drank it straight down and I sat with her until her eyes drooped and she quickly fell asleep.

I admired her young body, letting my eyes follow every delicious curve. Unable to resist, I traced the smooth contour of her jawline, delighting in the softness of her skin. The warmth of her breath played gently over my palm as I ran my finger over her cute, button nose and full lips.

Observing Olivia fuelled my deep obsession and I found it increasingly difficult to stifle my arousal. Almost of its own accord, my hand wandered down the length of her quiescent body, touching her in the most inappropriate manner. The fact that she was insensible and unable to protest my actions only exacerbated my desire to explore her further.

I caressed her stockinged feet, feeling the coarse weave of the wool rough against my skin. Travelling slowly up her calves, I experienced nothing but profound pleasure as my hand glided over soft skin before coming to rest in her lap.

Cupping her mound in my palm, I imagined the sight of her panty covered crotch before realising that I didn't need to imagine it at all. Throwing caution to the wind, I flipped up her skirt and exposed the prominent swell of her pubis, concealed only by the flimsiest cotton covering. The distinct shape of her labia was easily discernible through the fabric.

The t-shirt did little to disguise the shape of her breasts. I touched them gingerly then cupped one in my palm, savouring its fullness. Part of my brain insisted that what I was doing was wrong, but I was unable to restrain myself as I explored her body through her clothes.