Hi! Long time reader, first time poster. I've always had a kidnap fantasy and thought this would be a good place to share my first story. This story is not a BDSM or rape fantasy -- but more of a stockholm syndrome/reluctant fantasy. There is no sex in this first chapter. I don't know where I'll take this story yet, but I have a few more chapters in mind and am open to feedback! Thanks for reading. :)
The dim light from the desk lamp was all that illuminated Claire as she sat scrawling out formulas onto her notecards. It was just before 11 p.m., and the Dodge dealership where Claire usually manned the front desk had long since closed. From time to time -- and usually when her college roommate was hell bent on blasting music until midnight -- Claire would sneak up the carpeted staircase of her dealership and mooch off the wifi for a few extra hours of study. This was -- of course -- not allowed, but she knew the HR ladies left their desks at 5 p.m. sharp and wouldn't know the difference.
She hated this musty dealership anyway, and the staff were hardly better. Owned by a family who employed mostly their own teenage children, many of them found a sexist joke the epitome of humor and thought the Dodge Ram was God's gift to America. Claire savored the hours where she worked the desk alone, handing car keys to the service boys and flirting with them through the window.
Well, really just one boy.
X was a mechanic who was hired a few months before Claire, and his smirk was enough to make Claire go weak in her office chair. His technician shirt hugged his tanned arms just right, and his thick head of curly black hair framed his face perfectly. His six-foot-one frame and broad shoulders towered over her at five-foot-five.
He must've known how cute he was. He would routinely lean his muscled arms on the glass windowsill of her office that overlooked the service bay, peering through his long dark eyelashes at her. She swore he would request a customer's car keys just to watch her get up from her chair and walk over to the wall where they were organized. She would pout and protest, but secretly she didn't mind. She loved flipping her long wavy hair over her shoulder and taking her time at the car key wall, letting him get a look at her. X was short of Xavier, but she didn't know much about him beyond that. Even then, she'd only managed to glean this scrap of info from the technician schedule she looked over regularly to check if he was working. He was mysterious, and always managed to distract her from her line of questioning. She wondered what he was hiding.
Claire snorted over her notecards and pushed her glasses up on her nose. She would have to stop thinking of X if she was going to finish her biology flashcards tonight. She was in her final semester at her university, and midterms were killer this year. Sighing, she checked the time on the ancient digital clock the HR lady had on her desk. It was 11 p.m. on the dot. Normally Gavin the night guard would have arrived by now, and Claire would have to scoot past him unnoticed, but he had called out earlier today. Something about a car issue. How ironic, she thought. She always caught the late night bus home, and she knew the last one would be coming soon.
She stood up from the desk, adjusting her dress as she did so. Today she wore a simple short black dress with a rounded white collar, black sheer tights and heeled Mary Janes. Her favorite gold necklace with a tiny butterfly swung from her neck as she leaned over the desk and packed away her things.
Just as she was about to zip up her small black backpack, she froze. From down the stairs, she heard the unmistakable sound of jingling keys coming from her front desk cubicle. Knowing full well this building was not old enough to be haunted, this left only one option: An intruder.
She listened carefully from the desk, trying to hear over the sound of her own heartbeat now in her throat. Maybe she'd imagined it?
She heard soft hissing -- a whispered conversation. Her heart dropped from her throat into her stomach. More than one intruder, she thought.
"Which one is it? It's got to be here," whispered a male voice.
From downstairs, Claire heard the rattling of more keys on the wall.
"It was red," whispered back another voice. "And it had blue dice on it."
"Found it!" said the first voice in a triumphant whisper. Claire thought it sounded familiar.
"Are you sure about this?" said the second voice.
"Dead sure," the first hissed back. "Don't ask me again if you know what's good for you."
This time, Claire was sure of it, it was X. She also remembered the red keys with the blue dice. They belonged to a local businessman who had dropped off his 2021 Dodge Challenger Hellcat that day for an oil change. He had come in late in the day, and she told him they'd have to hold the car overnight due to a service back up. He had thrown a fit, but eventually relented.
Claire stayed silent as they rummaged through the office, hoping they'd just take the keys and go. She did not care enough about her minimum-wage desk job to give a shit if something was stolen, but she certainly valued her own life. She couldn't fathom why X was doing this, just last week he told her he planned to apply for head mechanic when the position opened up. It seemed like he'd changed his mind about that.
She heard the door of the office click shut, and knew she'd have to make her move fast. Claire mentally went through her options. The front desk cubicle was a dead end just to the left of the staircase she needed to go down, while the office backroom was to the right. If she made it quietly down the stairs, she could head out the door of the office backroom, hustle down the showroom hallway and out the side door.
Either way though, she would have to cross paths with whoever it was if she wanted to leave this cramped upstairs office tonight.
Taking a deep breath, Claire slung her bag over her shoulder and moved slowly and carefully down the stairs, treading softly on the carpet as she did so. Looking to her left, she breathed a small sigh of relief to see the front cubicle was dark and empty. She tiptoed across the office, and then suddenly froze as bright fluorescent lights clicked on and illuminated the whole space.
SHIT. She had forgotten about the motion sensor lights. The fluorescents would surely flood through the glass of the cubicle into the service bay, where the Hellcat was still parked. How could I be so stupid?! She thought. She crossed the office in two steps and ripped open the office door. She hurled herself down the hallway toward the side door, hopping the half step into the showroom while pulling out her phone.
"I'll have 911 ready on my phone just in case, and try to make it to the bus stop as quickly as I can," she thought.
The showroom was devoid of anyone as Claire walked through it, and it gave her faith. She was nearly at the door now.
"Claire?"
Fuck.
