Brian never quite knew what to make of Ellen Fitzgerald. She was a distant relative of his stepfather's, second or third cousin he thought, who came for a visit maybe two or three times a year. And Brian wasn't all that close to him, much less his relatives. (Brian's own father had passed away when he was very young and his mother had remarried just two years ago.)
Ellen rarely paid much attention to him when she stayed for a visit. She was an imposing, distant woman it seemed. She was at least 5'11" tall, maybe a little taller with an apparently thick build. Brian thought she looked a little chunky, if not fat, under her loose fitting clothing. She was 29 years old and widowed a year and half earlier, although Brian knew few details about what happened.
Her height and frame made her seem formidable compared to himself. He was four inches shorter and could be described as reedy. He had a trim body, befitting that of a 19-year about to enter college next week. He honestly never gave her much thought other than the requisite pleasantries when she visited.
Still, he was now set to go to drive to New York tomorrow, with Ellen---although that had been a decision made without him. Ellen, who lived there, offered to drive Brian to school the next day and his parents thought this a good time and money-saving idea. He dreaded the five-hour car ride with her. Fortunately, he thought, he had his phone and his iPod.
When they left the next day, Brian packed his few belongings he was taking with him in Ellen's SUV, figuring on buying new most of the stuff he needed. It amounted to little more than a couple of bags of clothes and a few electronic devices and his laptop. The ride passed uneventfully and quietly. Brian made a little small talk and so did Ellen, it seemed, to be polite, but they largely kept to themselves.
When they finally arrived, Ellen parked fairly far in the parking lot from his dorm.
"She could have parked a little closer," he muttered under his breath.
"All right, Brian, here we are. Before we get out of the car, call your parents and tell them I have dropped you off and I am on my way, so you are on your own."
Brian dutifully did so. The conversation with his mother made it sound very much like he was at school and Ellen had already driven away. While he had his talk, Ellen had gotten out of the SUV with her purse and, out of his sight, retrieved a cloth and poured some liquid on it. Brian ended his call and got out of the car and was about to get his belongings from the back.
"Brian, dear, before you go, can you help me. I seemed to have lost my good pen under the driver's seat. I can't reach it from the front. Could you get down on the floor and see if you can see it?"
"Sure." Brian climbed onto the floor in front of the back seats of the truck and started to reach his hand under the driver's seat. Once his hand was extended he felt an incredible weight on his body, realizing in the same instant that Ellen was now on top of him pushing him to the floor as she placed the cloth over his mouth and nose, muffling his cries and sending him quickly into unconsciousness. He attempted to resist but her weight made her unmovable with his much weaker body until he blacked out.
Once she was sure the boy was out, Ellen stood up slowly, pushed his legs all the way in, and closed the door. She looked around. No one was close by. No one was looking at her. People were walking about some distance away, but no one had any clue that one of the entering freshman class had just been kidnapped. Ellen nonchalantly got back into her vehicle and drove away. She smiled to herself. It had gone according to plan and had been easier than she had expected.
Ellen drove for two hours out of the city, deep in the country and ultimately wilderness areas, periodically stopping along the way to ensure Brian stayed asleep on the floor of the back seat. She finally arrived at her destination, a small cabin at the end of a very long dirt road, at least 5 miles from the highway and probably a good 20 miles from any sign of civilization or humanity.
She got out of the car, pulled Brian out, and hoisted him on her shoulders. He weighs less than I thought, Ellen said to herself. She carried him inside the cabin and, with difficulty, down a steep set of stairs under a trap door in the cabin floor. She laid him down on a cot inside what could only be described as a jail cell, for it had only a cot, a sink, a toilet, and small shower. There was also a curtain drawn to block the cell's occupant of any view of the rest of the downstairs living area, which was actually quite large.
Ellen stripped him of every scrap of clothing. She then locked her prisoner in and went upstairs. Ellen collected all of his clothing and promptly burned it all in a barrel. She gathered his electronics and computer, carrying them in and storing them in a large safe with a combination lock in the basement. She fixed herself some lunch and took a shower. Then she waited for her newly arrived prisoner—her sex slave, though he didnt that part yet—to wake up.
The first thing Brian noticed when he began to wake up was that his head hurt. He woke slowly, not remembering immediately what had happened. But the memory quickly came to him—the car, the pen, and Ellen on top of him. As he regained more of his senses, he also realized he had no clothes on whatsoever. Nor were any in sight. And it was then that he saw where he was: in jail, it seemed, with none of his possessions. In about another minute, he realized he wasn't in jail and had no idea where he was. Finally he managed to find his voice.
"Hey! Let me out! Help!" Brian shouted at the top of his voice. At first, he heard nothing in response, but then he heard the heels of a woman's boot on some floor a room or two away. Then nothing. Suddenly Ellen appeared from behind the curtain that marked his small area. She was wearing three-inch high black ankle boots and sweats.
"Good! Awake at last!"
Brian wasn't sure whether he was expecting to see Ellen or not but felt embarrassed by his nakedness just the same. Unfortunately, all he had to cover himself was a pillow. He made the best of it and stood up, angry.
"Ellen! What the fuck is going on here? Give me my clothes and let me out of here!"
Ellen just stared at Brian for a moment and then laughed at him. When she stopped, she began with a tone Brian found menacing and frightening—and the words soon matched the tone—and it sapped much of the bravado he had just put on.
"Let's be clear right now, Brian. You demand nothing! I am your only link to survival—to food and water. Getting something to eat should be your only concern right now because if I decide not to provide it, you will starve here. Something I am perfectly willing to let happen. It would be regrettable because I think we can have lots of fun, but it really is your choice. As a matter of fact, you probably need a little taste of starvation right now. See you tomorrow. I have errands to run."
With that, Ellen turned and went up the steep stairs. Brian screamed after her but once he heard the door slam shut he didn't know what to do.
As Ellen drove away, she thought this was a useful lesson. Brian needed to learn right off who was in charge. And I need to show my face in New York for a bit. Just to be seen, by her doorman, and friends.
And for the next 24 hours, Brian explored every inch of his cell for a way out. There wasn't one. The floor was a concrete slab and the bars went all around as well as overhead. No breaking through the ceiling. He was able to drink only water to satisfy his increasing hunger. By the next morning, he thought, she's right. I'll starve unless she comes back. He didn't like what was going on but he figured he would have to go along for a while and see what happens. He sure couldn't escape so long as he was locked in this cell.
Late the next day, Ellen returned to her little cabin in the middle of nowhere. As she emerged at the bottom of the stairs, Brian sat up, albeit with the pillow over his lap.
"Well, Brian, are we in a more polite mood this afternoon?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Oooohh. Very good start. I take it we are hungry?"
"Yes, ma'am, I am. May I please have some food? I promise to behave and cooperate." Brian used the politest voice he had.
Ellen held out a bag with submarine sandwiches and sodas to him. Hesitating because he would have to drop his pillow protection, Ellen read his mind.
"You might as well put the pillow down. I obviously saw you naked when I took off your clothes and I have no intention of giving you anything to wear. You will need to get used to being naked around me because, well, you are always going to be naked around me."
Brian realized the futility of his modesty, let go of the pillow and grabbed the sandwiches. Ellen went through the curtain and brought back a folding chair for her to sit on. She watched Brian eat without saying anything. She found she enjoyed watching her naked prisoner, trapped behind her iron bars.
She was very satisfied by what she saw. Her instincts were correct. Brian was beautiful to look at, in a subtle sort of way. Perhaps more cute than beautiful. He looked younger than his 19 years. She liked that. He was thin, wiry—a runner's or swimmer's body. Fit, not muscular. Short-haired, virtually no body hair, naturally. Smooth, perfect skin. His cock was average in size. Adequate to the job.
She had determined he was no physical match for her. Not even close. (She was pretty sure of that already, from the few times they had met over the past two years.) She liked that, too. She knew she was much stronger than he was just by looking at him and had maybe 40 pounds on him. She would be using those strength and weight advantages to god and very satisfactory—to her—effects.
She had always liked and preferred the clearly weaker men and boys. She loved imposing her will, mentally and physically, on such creatures. She had enjoyed that since the elementary school playground. As an adult, those desires manifested themselves in many ways, but especially sexually.
Such men—such boys—were like prey to her. She hungered to capture them, to control them, to inspire their fear of her, and, if possible, their eventual love and devotion. The same way a dog loves its master—or mistress.
Brian said nothing while he eat, as she watched him and rolled all these thoughts through her mind.
When he had finished, Ellen broke the silence.
"Feel better?"
"Uh, yes ma'am." Ellen then continued to stare at him in silence, which finally got the better of him.
