January 2009
I HAVE BEEN WATCHING SARAH for a year; planning how to abduct her while learning her habits and schedule. Sarah's younger brother Jacob works at Shultz's saw mill and wholesale lumber yard. He gets a ride into town with John Dobson a non-Amish neighbor who also works there. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday, Sarah shared a ride with them.
Sarah's older brother Saul sublets a tiny store front located in a rundown and mostly empty strip mall. Sarah has taken over and not just helping her mother to sell the families fresh baked goods and everything they sell is incredibly delicious. With her mother's recent passing and father's the year before Saul is the Patriarch of the immediate family. Saul is pushing Sarah into an arranged marriage to be able to buy prime farmland from her prospective suitor's father.
I was a regular customer there. I bought Sarah's pies and only Sarah's pies; not the pies her aunts, cousins or sister-in-law baked. I lingered for the pleasure of talking to her.....a few minutes at first; longer over time. I knew she enjoyed talking me. Sarah has a wholesome kindness and goodness I'm inexplicably drawn to.
Sarah flirted with me innocently in her own sweet way, getting slightly more confidant as the months went on. I was polite, respectful and engaging.
I listened to her opinions and feelings and this obviously pleased her.
The anchor business in the strip mall is a Bookshop that sells new and used books. I noticed a large section dedicated to travel. The owner Thomas Banes is an older man in his seventies. Thomas is a man of eclectic interests and I liked him immediately upon shaking his hand. I purchased several first edition archive quality books from him.
Thomas and his deceased wife traveled the world until she became ill. I know he allowed Sarah to borrow and read any of the used books in consideration for keeping the dumpster area neat and tidy and locking them at closing time. There also is a doorway in his bookshop covered with a double red glass bead curtain that leads into a long wide hallway with shelves of erotic literature of all descriptions.
Sarah had plenty of time on her hands until her ride arrived to take her home. While she waited she used some of the time to hand-sew pieces of material together for handmade patch quilts like the others that are on display for sale. She used some of that time read up on things to discuss with me.
I surmised from our talks Sarah wanted more out of life. She is an imaginative and intelligent young woman with interests and dreams that soar far above and beyond the narrow confines of her Amish community. Sarah dreams of going to Hawaii. She wants to swim in the ocean and walk on sun warmed sand beaches; she dreams of seeing the Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls with her own eyes and not just from photographs in books.
At one time my ex liked to travel.....until we grew apart. I was married to "the ultimate bitch" as she called herself for the last two years of our ten years together. I tried to make our marriage survive after the sudden tragic accidental death of our son. I took my marriage vows seriously and if it was to be a loveless marriage without sexual intimacy, so be it.
Martha refused professional counseling and turned to her mother and her aunts for support and comfort. I was able to move on while Martha couldn't because of them. I turned to my work; to my inventions for solace and peace. I learned to ignore her rants and tantrums of breaking and smashing things.
Her angry outbursts were followed by long periods of icy silence as she became bitterer yet. Towards the end Martha threatened to divorce me as I knew she would. In her bitter frustration and unhappiness she filed for divorce. She took much of what we jointly owned; or at least what she and her attorney could find.
Martha received a generous cash settlement and half of our shared investments provided she sign off on the house and my future earnings. My divorce attorney is a pugnacious hard nose prick. Martha's attorney though very capable had the good sense to agree.
My wife wore her grief on her sleeve and she never forgave me for not doing the same with her. For all that I have said about Martha; I loved her passionately once and she loved me the same. There will always be small glowing spark of tenderness for her locked away in my heart.
After a time I hired architects and specialized carpenters and craftsman to transform the house to my preferences, needs and tastes. It became a sanctuary where I could pursue my work away from my office.
When Sarah's brother Jacob and his neighbor John get out of work they will find problems although minor to keep it from starting.
The parking lot in the old strip mall is full of potholes and patched or broken asphalt while the lighting by the dumpster is totally inadequate. Most of the lights are missing or burned out. The dumpsters are surrounded by a concrete block enclosure with a wire gate entrance.
I disabled the telephone lines to the strip mall. Sarah was taken after dark when she went to lock the dumpsters. I disabled those few remaining working lights before I parked out of sight.
I waited in a dark corner for her to padlock the dumpsters as she always does at 6:00PM. I chose the month of November when the days are short and it is dark early.
When Sarah stepped inside the enclosure I quietly stepped behind her and placed my gloved hand over her mouth; she struggled briefly until I pressed the trigger on my hand taser sending 750,000 volts of electric pulses directly into her central nervous system.
This disrupted her neurological impulses causing a loss of balance and muscle control. The effect is instantaneous as well as intimidating but causes no permanent damage or discomfort after.
I eased Sarah to the ground and quickly placed a ball gag in her mouth followed by securing her wrists in front with standard issue police handcuffs. I put a blindfold over her eyes and secured her ankles together with the black nylon tactical belt I was wearing; the style of belt with a friction buckles. Sarah can struggle but there is little chance she will get free or hurt herself.
I carried Sarah to the van and put her in the rear bench seat buckling her securely in place with the factory seat belt and the double chest harness I installed just for this occasion.
The curtains were closed on the rear and side windows; the curtains separating the front from the back were drawn so that nobody could see her while we traveled.
"I have a gift for you, Sarah" I offered putting a red leather collar with an attached brass nameplate around her neck. I snapped a short leash to the collar securing it with a small padlock so that she could not remove either.
The nameplate is engraved with her slave name: Princess. The leash and collar is more for effect and drama than anything else. I certainly don't think of her as an animal. They are symbols to aid in her training and submission.
I'm not interested in an unimaginative mindless drone. I want a companion and lover to share my life. I have plans for Sarah besides the training which I discussed with an expert in such matters. It is a two hour drive from the mall to my home. I took secondary and back roads to avoid traffic. After half an hour on the road Sarah started struggling and trying to scream through her ball gag.
"Behave my pretty girl... be quiet. You can't get escape and nobody can hear you but me. I realize you're frightened but you received no real harm from the shock. Don't make me do it again. We have a long drive to your new home.
Do you like my present Sarah? I had Princess engraved on your new collar. Are you familiar with the origin of your name? It is Hebrew for Lady or for a Princess of royal blood.
Very fitting, don't you think, Sarah, my little slave Princess. I'm wondering, Sarah do you listen to good music? By good music, I mean Classical, Jazz, bluegrass and Rock & Roll which I have an extensive collection for us to enjoy.
