Catch And Release

The hard part of any abduction is thorough planning and preparation. The first thing that most sexual predators foul up on is obsessing over someone that they know and then kidnapping that person the first chance they get. Law enforcement agencies usually solve these abductions if not in a few hours, then in time, but they do solve them. The intelligent predator chooses his prey first because of his preferences (maybe she looks like someone he desires) but then he makes his plans according to her weaknesses.

A successful abduction requires a tremendous amount of time, study, research, planning, and timing. The process starts with identifying a likely victim. I personally like them in their late teens and early twenties, petite, and perky looking with a quiet personality. The next step involves seeing about the victim's relationships. A single woman who lives alone is the best target, but you can work well with a roommate, too, if you plan well. In the case of a single woman who lives alone you can usually just smooth talk your way into her apartment/house, overcome her and secure her, and then pack up enough of her clothes and personal effects that it makes it look like she just cleared out to anyone who comes looking. Leaving a small supply of drugs and paraphernalia behind is all it takes to dissuade any sympathy for the victim from law enforcement if they investigate. One look at the drugs and they could care less where your victim went.

Roommates can actually be useful since they usually don't know your victim any better than you do. My favorite tactic is to get your victim on a mailing list for some freaky cult by sending a few hundred bucks cash in her name to them. The roommate will inevitably see the ocean of junk mail that will follow along with possible home visits and phone calls. Then when you do the deed the roommate will tell the boys in blue about the cult and they'll just assume that your victim went with them willingly. Even if they do go check out the cult they won't believe the cultists when they tell the cops the truth that they haven't seen your victim. Haven't you ever wondered why the cops went nosing around at Waco in the first place? Well, now you know who sent them there and why.

But what happens when you screw up? That's what this story is about.

* * * * *

I had performed my usual due diligence in planning, studying, and lining up my victim and tonight was the night I'd make my move. Tonight she'd be home late after work like she was every Thursday night and I'd catch her in the parking lot when she parked in her reserved parking space. The darkness would be my partner in crime.

"Right on time." I said to the air as she showed up on cue.

It was like a ballet as I opened the side doors to the van and then spun to catch her face in the formaldehyde-soaked cloth. After a very brief struggle she passed out and I loaded her into the van, trussed her up, and secured her wrists and ankles to the floor tie-downs before getting the rubber-ball gag strapped into place. The last touch was the stocking cap I pulled down over her face. In the pervasive darkness I had to do this all by feel, but I had it all done in the time I'd practiced so many nights before…right in this same parking lot.

One hundred and eighty-four seconds after she'd parked her car I opened her apartment door and walked to her bedroom, pulling out a large garbage bag as I walked. Once in her room I dumped the contents of her drawers into the bag and then made my way to the bathroom. Her combs and makeup went in first, followed by her selection of make-up and then her assortment of medications. I chuckled to myself as I dropped the pills and creams into the bag and then turned for the door, locking it behind myself as I left.

Four hundred and twenty-two seconds had elapsed since I started and I was now behind the wheel and driving out of the parking lot. At six hundred seconds even I started up the onramp to the interstate freeway and began the long trip home.

I heard her start to murmur right around St. George, Utah and I turned to see her feebly straining against the restraints. About twenty miles later I smelled the strong scent of urine and turned around to see the stain on her jeans and I just shook my head. I was going to have to steam clean the interior of the van after this anyway.

It was another four hours before I got to the house and hit the remote for the basement garage. The door rolled up and then I clicked again as I shut the engine off and the door slid closed with a certain finality that made my victim flinch. They always know what's going to happen when they hear that door close. I don't know what it is about the sound that the door makes, it's just like any other remote control door, yet every one of my girls flinches at the sound of its' closing.

I took a look at the mess she'd made in the van and decided that I'd best get to it before taking a breather. Ten hours of driving with a cargo space full of felony gets to you, you know.

"Come on, sweetheart, time to get you out of those clothes and settled in."

She froze as I said the words. Notice I said she froze. Victims always tremble and struggle when I first speak to them. This one froze. I realized instantly that she knew me and that I knew her. Soon enough I'd know who she was, but first there was work to be done. I unlocked the restraints that held her to the tie-downs in the van and stood her up to lead her to her new home, a rather comfortable apartment in the basement of my house.

My house has it's own story. A survivalist back in the 1980's built the place with a secret, long-term bomb shelter in the basement for the nuclear war that never came. After he died in a confrontation with the local sheriff I bought the whole place for a song at the tax assessor's auction and have lived here quite nicely the last eight years. When I'd first found the bomb shelter behind a false basement wall I just used it for a guest room for the rare relative who'd make their way out here to the boonies. It was my then-twelve year old step-niece who one day pointed out that with the steel reinforced three-foot thick walls and the 2800-pound blast door the shelter could easily be mistaken for a prison cell. Looking at my brothers' stepdaughter as she planted the cell concept in my head gave me a very interesting idea. I never saw her again to thank her for that great idea since her mother divorced my brother not long after and then moved away without a trace.

A little creative welding soon had the inside of the blast door covered with a quarter-inch thick sheet of stainless steel, which denied any occupant access to the locking mechanism of the door. The door mechanism was still easily accessed from the outside and a very clever magnetic key the original owner created as a failsafe would release you from the inside if you should happen to be in there when the door closed. The magnetic key was hidden in plain sight holding an old calendar on the refrigerator door inside the shelter…, which was now a cell.

Then came the part about putting my plan into action. I'm a big believer in planning and I figured that the best way to plan a successful crime was to first study how everyone else had screwed up his or her crimes. I studied bank robberies, embezzlements, and several other types of crimes and I came away with a few conclusions:

1.Failed crimes are usually committed within twenty miles of the criminals' home.

2.Criminals almost always get away with the first crime, but they get cocky after that and lose their edge.

3.Most criminals choose victims they know.

4.Most criminals fail to plan their crimes and the majority of those who do plan their crimes fail to execute their plans.

5.Criminals usually underestimate the intelligence, abilities, and experience of law enforcement. A dedicated criminal in his/her lifetime may commit hundreds of crimes while a good cop will solve thousands of them. Face it: we have great cops in America and any criminal today is truly swimming in a sea of blue.

So my first effort was made on a trip to Nashville, Tennessee. I'd found a cheap motel on the outskirts of town whose manager was more or less a crack-whore and she was thrilled to take my two weeks' rent in cash without asking any questions. While I was there the manager was shot and killed by a robber and I observed the cops dismissing the whole thing after they found her crack stash. I took a mental note about that little fact. Driving around town the next week I came across a private school that was in a lightly forested area and I decided to set up my 'blind' right there and wait for the afternoon. My hunting 'blind' was actually very simple: I parked on the main road, placed marker cones at either end of my van, set up my pipe detecting equipment and went to work charting the locations of all of the conduit and pipe under the road surface. I now looked like any other anonymous road crew that people see (and ignore) every single day.

Just after 2:15 in the afternoon a stream of pretty girls came walking down the road, chatting with each other and sharing the gossip of the day. The stream tapered off to a trickle by 3:00 and I figured I'd wait another hour before packing up. Sure enough, at 3:40 a cute, bookish little thing came along with her head down as she walked home. Turned out she'd stayed after school to work on a story for the school newspaper.

At 4:05 she was unconscious and nicely secured in the back of my van and three days drive from starting her new life taking care of the child she was going to bear for me. Being careful to never let her see my face, I kept her just over a year before I let her go. I impregnated her the second month she was with me and then I took care of her as her belly swelled with my daughter. She gave birth right there in the cell and then I kept her another couple of months to make sure that she'd bonded with the child before I bound her up and took her back to Tennessee to let her go on the same street where I'd taken her the year before. You might remember the 'human interest' story from the national news about how she loved her daughter despite what had happened.

By the way, that's my thing: 'catch and release' I call it. I find some little thing to carry my child and then make sure she bonds with the baby so she'll keep it when I let her go. The girl from Nashville was the first. The one I'd just caught in San Diego was the fourth.

That first girl I'd just picked at random as the opportunity had presented itself. For the second girl I went to Saint Paul, Minnesota and spent a month stalking a cute little office girl that lived in a studio downtown. I left a few baggies of crack with a well-used pipe in her place when I snatched her and, amazingly, after I let her go the police weren't at all interested in her abduction story, they just wanted to know about the crack. I used the crack trick with the next girl who was from Portland with the same effect. And now I'd done it again.

But who was she?

* * * * * *

After the long drive I was really exhausted, but my new playmate needed to be attended to first. I untied her legs so she could walk on her own and then I led her through the house. She wobbled a bit on the stairs and seemed to trust me as I led her down the stairs and then to the false wall. I couldn't help but notice the girl anticipate stopping at the wall as I opened it, as if she already knew what was going on. I led her inside and then secured her wrist restraints to the chain that hung from an eyebolt in the concrete ceiling.

I secured her wrists in such a way to keep her on her toes. This prevents any uncomfortable kicking on the girls' part. She stood mutely as I cut away her soiled jeans and the other garments she wouldn't need anymore. I drew in a breath as I gazed at her lithe and supple body that sported a cute tuft of brown hair in a certain spot. I decided to leave her there for a while and went outside to incinerate her clothes and the belongings from her apartment in my smithing furnace. I do a little blacksmith work for the farmers in the area as a cover for having a handy little device that burns up evidence, underwires and all. In twenty minutes even the ashes were burnt away.

It's my custom to not get started with a girl until she's had a week or so to get used to her new surroundings and get up to speed on my special rules for houseguests. I don't know what got into me this time, maybe I was just plain horny. When I went back to the cell I brought her new collar with me, a hinged steel ring with a lock on it where I also secure a chain to keep my girls from getting any idea about running away.

In the course of locking on her collar and the chain I couldn't help but marvel at her beauty. Truly, she was the most perfect female to have ever graced my home. The curve from her breasts to her hips was incredibly seductive to me, and her delicate legs highlighted the marked femininity of her form. I ran my hands down her sides, brushing the sides of her pert breasts and caressing her hips as I went. I held her hips in either hand and looked at her firm belly and my cock sprang to life right then and there. I had to have her.

I stepped back, kicked off my shoes, and stripped myself slowly. When she heard my zipper open on my pants she gave a knowing whimper, the first sound she'd made since arriving. She began to shift about on her toes, betraying to me that she knew what was coming. I dropped my pants and hung them over the chair where my polo shirt was waiting. My boxers soon joined my shirt and pants as witnesses to my selfish depravity.

Her face was still covered with the stocking mask and I decided that it was best for now to leave her that way. I thrilled to the idea of what thoughts must be going through her mind as she stood there waiting for me to rape her. I walked up to her and stood as close to her as possible without touching her, just to see if she could feel my presence. Sure enough, she whimpered again and struggled against the wrist restraints to try to avoid the inevitable. I leaned down and took her by the waist as I drew one of her nipples into my mouth. I tasted the slightest salt of her perspiration as the wrinkled bud began to respond to my tongue. Sucking ever so gently on the one nipple, I massaged her other breast and felt the twin of the bud in my mouth swell in appreciation.

My hand roamed down across her taut belly to explore the tufted cleft of her waiting sex and she responded with her first scream of protest. She began to buck and kick at me so I backed away and retrieved a three-foot long leg spreader. I grabbed her right ankle and pulled until she was hanging uncomfortably by her wrists from the ceiling without any contact with the floor by either foot. She kicked a bit more as I secured the first ankle but quickly gave up as her kicking only caused pain to her straining wrists. With her second ankle secured I stepped back to admire my handiwork. Hanging from her wrists with her legs outspread and clear of the floor she began to sob. To me this was a good sign as it's the first indication that the girls' will was starting to break. I had to let the lesson sink in once it had started so I put off my pleasure and spun her, letting her naked body spin and sway from the ceiling while I dressed and went upstairs for some lunch and a nice cup of coffee.

After lunch I decided that it was time for a shower and I enjoyed contemplating my guest in her predicament as the steam rose around me. I dried off and decided to just wear my robe since I wasn't planning on staying dressed for very long anyways. Padding down the stairs I heard little sobs coming from the cell and I found my guest had stopped spinning around. Her hands were white from lack of circulation and they were probably numb, too. I touched her fingers to see if I'd get a reaction and I didn't. Not wanting to actually hurt her, I picked her up and undid the lock on her wrists and allowed them to fall to her sides. She first screamed with rage once her hands were free and then screamed again as she found them unwilling to respond to her certain wish to hit me. The next scream came as the blood flowed back into her hands sending a wave of pain through her form.

I carried her to the bed and secured her wrists to the sides of the bed instead of over her head so that the circulation would resume to her tortured hands. Her collar I secured to the chain at the head of the bed where I usually secured a pair of wrists. I massaged her hands to help the blood get back into them and to also help soothe the pain. She responded to my ministrations with a couple of sighs that clearly conveyed relief. Another lesson was being learned.

In a good ten minutes the color of her fingers was restored and she seemed to be much more relaxed, even though she was splayed out naked. I think her concerns about safety and personal space had at that point given way to just being concerned about comfort. Lying back on a bed, her neck collared and secured, wrists secured out and down from her waist, and legs lewdly spread was far more comfortable than hanging from the ceiling.

Now I decided to explore her body a little more. It seemed natural to let my hands follow up her left arm to the curve of her breast and I noticed the absence of protest this time as I stimulated her nipples to pert little peaks. She did tense up as my hand traversed her belly and teased the fringe of her tuft. She strained to close her thighs to stop my intrusion but soon gave up, her legs simply going limp as if to acknowledge the futility of fighting my desires. Her body seemingly surrendered to me, I allowed my hand to edge further into the tuft until my fingers found the crinkly lips protecting her pussy. My cock rose to a throbbing hardness as I felt the warmth and moisture of her depths radiate from the tufted cleft. Gently, I massaged and kneaded the tender lips and was rewarded as I felt them swell in response to my attention.

I didn't expect her to get into it but I soon felt her hips just barely responding to the timing of my kneading and I endeavored to try to see what I could evoke from this girl. I guess maybe an hour went by with my one hand massaging her moistening pussy and my other hand gently caressing and exploring her nubile body. My own desire had been forgotten as I worked to bring whatever pleasure I could to my helpless victim and I never noticed that my cock had settled down on me. It was both curiosity and a bizarre desire that drove me to focus on drawing an orgasm out of this girl.

My kneading of her pussy gently became a probing as her body responded and her slit wettened with desire. I can't recall precisely when, but at some point I found her clit budding out from under its' hood and I turned my attention to it with gentle swirls, light feathery touches, and teasing brushes across just the tiniest tip of it. It was no surprise to me when she finally surrendered a moan of pleasure to me, which was soon followed by her actively thrusting her hips at my hand.

I could sense her pleasure starting to build and decided to do something that I'd never done with one of my girls right at first. I got up from the bed and heard her clearly sigh with frustration as I padded around to the foot of the bed. Taking the spreader bar in my hands I lifted her ankles up into the air and climbed under the bar. There was no complaint or protest from her when my hungry mouth and tongue buried in her sweet pussy and tasted her dew. Her hips were soon rising to meet my mouth as I massaged her tender bud with my eager tongue and she even caught me by surprise as she edged down the bed just a bit to coax me deeper into her crevice.

Her breath became a staccato of gasps and muted shrieks and I felt the tension rise through her belly as the pleasure built in her body. I drove my tongue through her pussy with slower and slower strokes, each stroke of my tongue exerting more pressure on her sensitive parts. She got my every effort as I slowed down my pace and increased my intensity as her body demanded satisfaction. Her moans became shrieks as I felt the waves of pleasure start to build and it was only then that I flicked my eager tongue as fast as I could into her soaking pussy. Her thighs strained against the spreader trying to squeeze my mouth against her body as her back arched with the burst of her orgasm. Knowing that she was at her most sensitive and vulnerable I licked with a furious intensity and was rewarded with her body thrashing at me and the incredible sounds of a woman in her second orgasm.