Taking Olivia
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2011 by Mr Hyde

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - As revenge for cheating him out of his livelihood, Richard Hunter kidnaps the seventeen year old daughter of his ex-business partner. Nothing could prepare him for the events that followed.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/ft   BDSM   Oral Sex   Anal Sex  

With mounting trepidation, I watched the gates to Ambrose College and waited for the vehicle to emerge. My fingers drummed nervously on the top of the steering wheel of the hire car then began picking at the stitching of the faux leather with my bitten-down nails.

Despite months of careful preparation, it was still not too late to back out but I firmed my resolve and prepared to proceed. Soon, the events of so many years ago would finally be avenged and I'd have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life.

I'd been many things in my life: student, inventor, adulterer and even criminal hacker. I was soon about to become Richard Hunter, kidnapper.

From my carefully chosen vantage point, I stared out of the front windscreen as the BMW X5 emerged from the school grounds, indicating its desire to merge onto the busy dual carriageway that led towards Amersham. I put the car into gear and eased into a small gap in the traffic.

Flashing my headlights, I allowed the BMW to pull out in front of me. The young blonde at the wheel waved in acknowledgement and then sped away, eager to return her young passenger to her luxurious home in the tiny village of Little Missington. The passenger in question was Olivia Weston, the seventeen-year-old daughter of industrialist, Raymond Weston.

Soon, the girl would become an unwilling pawn in my plan to punish Raymond for denying me the fortune that was rightfully mine, and destroying the relationship with the only woman I'd ever truly cared for.

I allowed several cars to cut in front of me, introducing a small separation between my vehicle and the 4x4. There was little danger of losing them; I knew by heart the route they'd take on the journey home. Any moment, they'd leave the dual carriageway and head along the narrow country lane that would twist and turn for several miles until eventually emerging on the outskirts of Little Missington.

As the turnoff neared, I noticed the BMW's indicator flash through the windscreens of the intervening traffic and prepared to follow. About two miles along the lane, I'd placed a set of temporary traffic lights that I could control remotely through my mobile phone.

Keying the speed dial on the handset, I transmitted the text message that would ensure a red light when the car in front approached it. It was now the moment of truth. I could stop and go home, or I could risk all for a chance of a new life. Everything hinged on the next few minutes and how well I'd researched and prepared my plan of action.

I maintained a respectable distance from the car in front, driving carefully and hoping fervently that no other vehicle travelled this particular stretch of road. We both negotiated a sweeping left-hand bend before encountering the stop signal that lay waiting on the other side.

The X5 braked sharply and I delayed my own deceleration, timing it to occasion a minor collision with BMW's rear bumper. The speed was too low to cause any serious damage but the 4x4 still lurched forward with the impact.

After a delay of a few seconds, the young blonde exited the vehicle with a look of venomous fury written across her face. I opened my door and watched as she stormed towards me, no doubt intent on dispensing me a choice piece of her mind. The girl was in her early twenties and incredibly pretty. It gave me no pleasure to contemplate what I was about to do to her.

"Sorry, I didn't expect you to pull up so suddenly," I muttered as she approached.

"How could you fail to see me stopping?" she ranted.

"I have my documents here somewhere," I added, pretending to fumble in the glove compartment for my insurance details whilst waiting for her to edge closer.

As soon as she took that fateful step, I burst into action. I grabbed her by the left wrist and hauled her into the car, pushing the twin prongs of the taser against her midriff. Thumbing the trigger, shaped pulses of fifty thousand volts surged though her nervous system leaving her convulsing in shock and incapable of coherent speech.

I crawled out from beneath her inert body then eased her into the car, leaving her slumped across the front seats. The woman had hardly made a sound and the teenager in the BMW was blissfully unaware of what had taken place. I pulled a rough, woollen ski mask on over my head and walked quickly and quietly towards the car in front, slipping effortlessly into the driver's seat.

Olivia looked at me in surprise. Her eyes widened in panic as I produced the injection pistol from my outer pocket and placed it against the exposed skin of her upper thigh.

According to the internet, the dose of ketamine should subdue her within fifteen seconds and keep her asleep for well over an hour. I held onto her struggling body as she attempted to open the car door to free herself. Her movements slowly diminished and she slumped against me.

Whilst the low traffic volume along the country lane provided a high probability that my actions would not be interrupted, I knew the longer I remained, the greater the risk of discovery. I dragged the unconscious teenager out of the car and slipped her over my shoulder into a fireman's carry. The girl was slightly built and I easily transported her back to my car. I popped the boot release and deposited her inert body amongst a bundle of blankets that I'd arranged to keep her comfortable during the drive to my home.

I foraged through her clothes, wondering if she carried a mobile phone as, even without making a call, it could be used to pinpoint her location to within a few metres. The pockets of her school skirt yielded nothing and her blazer contained only a chewed biro, a scientific calculator, and a purse containing a few pounds in change. Finally, an inner pocket yielded the item in question. I flipped the back cover off her Blackberry and extracted the battery before dropping all the pieces into my coat pocket.

Taking some pre-cut lengths of soft rope, I quickly bound her hands and feet then slipped a dark hood over her head. I'd decided not to gag her as a known side-effect of the anaesthetic was extreme nausea. If she vomited whilst gagged, there was a severe risk she'd asphyxiate and that was something I wished to avoid at all costs. Hopefully, she'd remain asleep until the end of the journey.

With Olivia suitably restrained, I returned to the front of the car and eased her stunned companion to her feet. Supporting her body beneath her arms, we staggered drunkenly along the lane back to the BMW where I eased her into the driver's seat and folded her arms around the steering wheel. Her eyes blinked rapidly but her muscles stubbornly refused to respond to the confused signals from her brain. It would take several minutes for her frazzled nerves to recover. To keep her out of mischief, I took out the injection pistol and loaded it with a fresh ampoule. I pressed the trigger and shot a dose of the drug into her bloodstream. Slowly her eyes closed and her head drooped forward.

I dismantled the portable traffic lights and stowed the equipment on the backseat of the hire car. I drove off, leaving the BMW parked at the roadside with the driver apparently asleep at the wheel. I discarded the ski mask onto the front seat, glad to be free from its oppressive warmth and the irritation that its coarse weave caused my unshaven features.

My heart thundered within my body, the adrenaline rush leaving me slightly giddy. Everything had gone exactly to plan and the passport to untold wealth was trussed like a Christmas turkey in the back of the car. After leaving a day or two for her parents to come to terms with the reality of their daughter's kidnapping, I would make clear my demands then provide them notice that unless they were met they would not see her again. The latter part was sheer bluff on my part but hopefully they had no way of knowing that fact.

The Westons controlled a vast business empire and the ransom would be a mere drop in the ocean compared to the enormous wealth at their disposal. Olivia was an only child and I counted on them doing everything in their power to ensure her safe return.

I headed south, keeping to minor roads and away from the watchful eyes of the ubiquitous surveillance cameras that seemed to spring up everywhere. My house was situated in an isolated location on the outskirts of High Wycombe. It was accessed by narrow track and surrounded several acres of uncultivated farmland.

Tall, coniferous trees bordered three sides to ensure privacy. At the front, a high, ornamental stone wall was split by the wrought iron gates to allowed entry onto a crazy-paved driveway with parking space for three cars. A spacious double garage provided home for my two motorbikes and an ageing Mercedes coupe that was built at a time when the marque was still a sign of reliability and solid construction. The up-and-over door responded to the remote opener and slid up to admit the modest hatchback that I'd hired specially for the occasion.

I switched off the engine, re-donned the mask, and then opened the boot to inspect Olivia. The girl hadn't budged from where I'd left her and I panicked for a moment, thinking that I'd inadvertently misread the instructions and overdosed her with the tranquiliser. I pressed my finger against the side of her neck and was relieved to discover a steady pulse. She moaned slightly with the contact but didn't stir, even when I picked her up in my arms and carried her through the adjoining door into the main house.

The four-bedroom single-storey farmhouse was built in the eighteenth century. I'd spent an eternity converting and renovating it. Over the last few months, I'd added further alterations to provide roomy and secure accommodation for Olivia. In the spare bedroom, thick steel bars now ran top to bottom across the full width of the window ledge whilst a reinforced steel door would prevent even the most determined attempts to escape. All of the outer doors and windows were fitted with security bolts, ostensibly to prevent burglary but also serving to contain my guest.

 
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