Chapter 1 - My Former Life
They say you can have anything in life if you want it bad enough and work hard enough to get it. I don't know if this holds true all of the time, but I do know it worked with Ashley, and it sure took a whole lot of hard work and planning.
Even now, as I look at her in the monitor, walking back to her "room", I find it hard to believe that it's actually happening, that I actually followed through and carried out my plans. How could I go from a happily married man, expecting his first child with a woman he dearly loved, to a kidnapper, and shortly a sex offender in just under two years?
I always thought myself a moral man, but here I was eagerly awaiting the next step to my grand "plan", ready to take full advantage of a young girl, almost ten years younger that I, barely 19, and honestly felt no regret, in fact felt nothing but anticipation. If true evil is knowingly doing wrong, and feeling no regret, then I truly had become the definition of evil.
Top understand my position, how I got "here" (a beautiful teenager captive in my basement) from "there" (a happily married family man), I have to explain what I refer to as my "former life" and how an obsession and a seemingly impossible plan shaped the last 6 months of my life.
When I met Mary in college, I knew I found the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and I fell in love with her within the first few dates. Mary was the most genuine, sweet girl I had ever met, and had everything a man could look for in a girlfriend, wife, mother, or simply as a friend. I never thought there was anyone in the world with whom I could feel so at ease, someone who I never felt I had to impress or "filter" myself with. In short she was the perfect girl.
My friends used to joke that it was her money that I was so attracted to (her father was actually the inventor of the copier collator), but I knew they were thrilled that I found such a perfect match.
We had a wonderful (and ridiculously expensive) wedding by the vineyards in Napa Valley, then honeymooned for a month in Maui. I can't say I felt a whole lot of warmth towards my in-laws (perhaps I had a bit of a complex, as a graphic artist I wondered if they looked down on me, knowing I would never come close to the wealth they had), but I shared in my wife's devastation when they died in a plane crash while touring the Greek Isles just months after our wedding.
The following years were tough for Mary, but she threw herself into her budding career at a law firm specializing in the protection of minority rights. I found my business (started with the help of some quite good referrals by my late father-in-law) flourishing, designing branding and logos for some very lucrative clients.
When Mary got pregnant with a little girl (which we would name "Sara" after her mother), it seemed that we had gotten over the tragedy of her parents' passing, and were ready to start the next chapter in our lives.
Then came the complications.
Within 2 weeks from that first night when Mary called me into the bathroom to tell me "something was wrong", my wife and unborn child were gone.
I think a part of me died that day as well.
Never the most social sort, I slowly withdrew from my previous life. I stopped returning calls from my friends, tiring of their never-ending attempts to "get me through" this tough time. My parents were insufferable, I dreaded each time they called, wanted to visit, or insisted that I "come home" for a while. I was thankful they lived so far away, and that I had no siblings to team up with them in their harassment.
And although I now had inherited more money than I knew what to do with, the only facet of my life I kept at was my Graphic Art company; my clients oblivious to my circumstance, and thus allowing me to forget about my tragedies.
It was a little over a year later, visiting one of these clients in the City, when I saw a beautiful girl walking into a coffee shop. Once again my life took a drastic turn when I followed her in, and sat down across the room.
Chapter 2 - Discovery
I think it was the white bow in her hair that caught my eye, who wears bows in their hair these days? She was certainly a cute one, about 5' 4" or so, wavy strawberry blond hair tied up in back, cute figure dressed in a jeans and a t-shirt. And for some reason I decided to go into that coffee shop behind her, perhaps to get a better look.
She ordered an herbal tea and sat down on a couch in the corner. Hiking her legs underneath, she pulled out a laptop from her book bag and started typing. I sat down across the shop, pulled out my computer, and pretended to surf the web as I watched her.
She had dark blue eyes, a little upturned nose, and perhaps the slightest blush of freckles on her cheeks. She had an athletic build, with toned arms and a slim waist, and I wondered if she was or ever had been a cheerleader or gymnast. The more I watched her, the more I realized just how attractive this girl was. I found myself waiting for her to get up, just so I could get a better look at her body, examine this little specimen a bit closer.
Twenty minutes later she checked her cell phone, packed away her computer and walked out the door. I quickly followed, and fell in step behind her as she walked up the busy street.
I knew how silly it was, a grown man following a young girl like this and even felt a little embarrassment at the familiar feel of the erection forming in my pants as I stared at this perfect "ass" in front of me. The word "pert" popped into my head. Who described an ass as "pert"? She did have just the most perfect little body, and I couldn't stop staring at her butt, wondering what kind of panties she was wearing, what it be like to cup one of those perfect cheeks as she walked.
When she turned into the building, I stopped suddenly, finding myself in front of one of the City College's buildings surrounded by a throng of students in black dress, with tattoos and piercings, smoking cigarettes and complaining about parents and professors. I wistfully looked through the glass door one more time before turning around and walking away.
Chapter 3 - Obsession
Although I hadn't dated since the death of my wife, and honestly hadn't felt any desire for female companionship at all, I had utilized my share of pornographic material over the past year. So it was no surprise when, as I laid down to sleep that night, I fantasized about that "unknown" beauty I had seen.
What was unexpected however was that afterwards I felt none of the remorse or guilt I normally feel after masturbating. I had barely cleaned myself up when I came to the decision that I would go back to that coffee shop the next day, just to see if I could get another look at the girl. And this time, perhaps I'd bring my camera . .. .
My life quickly became centered around the girl I soon learned was Ashley Watson, a 19 year old student majoring in finance at the local college. I learned how the train dropped her off 40 minutes before her class each morning, and how she spent this time in the same coffee shop, generally at the same seat. I took the train and followed her home, found where she lived in a modest suburban home with her parents.
I looked forward to seeing what she would wear each day, thrilled when I woke to a bright warm day in anticipation of the knee length skirts she would wear, the glimpses of her toned legs, and if lucky perhaps a look at her slender thighs as she sat with her computer, or reading a book at the coffee shop.
I also started to become aware of other men, and their lingering looks at Ashley, watching her bottom as she walked, turning their heads as she passed. They were so clear in their intentions, their gawking, and I hoped I was not so obvious in my appreciation.
There was no doubt "Jimmy", who worked the counter on Mondays and Fridays had a crush on her, how he always tried making small talk with her as she ordered her daily tea.
But what I found so peculiar about Ashley, was how she seemed so unaware of all the attention she was getting. Always friendly, always polite, I don't think it even occurred to her that Jimmy was coming on to her.
My greatest source of information about Ashley was the result of a small wireless camera I purchased and set up, hidden amongst the plants behind her usual place at the coffee shop. This is how I captured her email address and password.
And so I learned of her one close friend Ellen who was taking a year abroad in France. I learned that her father worked for Exxon and was frequently away visiting oil refineries. How close she was with her mother, and a few vague references to an ex boyfriend named Ken.
Most of Ashley's correspondences with her friend were about Ellen's experiences in France, the boys she was meeting, her host family. Ashley's updates were simply about how school was going, her parents, and how much she missed her friend and would be happy when she returned the following year.
