What Happens in the Dar

Dear Readers,

I hope you enjoy this chapter! Seems a bit late to be warning you, but this chapter contains more nonconsensual action. I am sorry life has been crazy, I'm hoping to get publishing more chapters faster, but we'll see how that goes. I appreciate all of you sticking with me and giving me the encouragement I need to keep posting these.

Thanks again to my wonderful editors: Bry1977 and thegoofyproofyreader. I feel like they have really helped me clean this up for you guys.

Without further Ado, here is the next chapter.

~NaughtyPaladin

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(Karen)

I was so... fucking... horny! I wanted my mysterious man to take me away, tie me up, and fuck my brains out! I wanted it so bad! But no, I had to stick to the plan. I had to prove myself worthy of being his fucktoy. That I had changed and I wasn't the bitch that the so-called feminists had tried to make me.

My plan had been so simple. Deluded feminists were everywhere. I just had to pick one out, set her up to get taken and given the same gift I had received, and in doing so prove I had changed from the bitch I was before.

I wanted to shake my head, but I was busy sitting at a table at some stupid feminist conference, answering questions about our company. I had a smile pasted on my face and I gave the answers I knew they wanted to hear.

"Is your workplace a gender-equal workplace?" I knew the answer I was supposed to give and I gave it. "Yes, we ensure that everyone can work here regardless of gender."

It was a joke though. You don't get a 75% female workforce without bias against men. Almost everyone here at the conference was a woman or a presenter. So that probably was a point they'd like, but admitting to discriminatory hiring and disciplinary practices would be to invite a lawsuit.

Of course, the fact that my employer was also not fond of gays, lesbians, trans, or anyone else not straight would lose them all the points that being Pro-Woman won them politically. Had I not been shown the light, so to speak, I would be working to fix the company. The policies weren't openly homophobic or transphobic, just applied unequally to everyone who wasn't a straight woman. Didn't matter what you put on documents, if you had the inclinations, my supervisors came after you.

Another hopeful, brainless applicant, more girl than woman, though she was probably my age. She was immature and thought the world owed her a living because she had cute tits and a pussy. News flash, if you weren't getting knocked up and feeding babies all that meant was you were the weaker sex.

Not that I minded being "weaker"... being manhandled and fucked however your man wanted... oh, just the thought made me even wetter. I grit my teeth through my smile. I couldn't get the fucking I wanted until I found one of these bitches and delivered them to my man. That had been the deal I'd struck to even have a chance at getting what I was craving.

I looked around at all these women. None of them were wife material for her man. Her man deserved a REAL woman. Beautiful, submissive, and willing to act like a fucking wife. No, here all she'd find for him were more future fucktoys, like herself. I wasn't good enough to be his wife. However, if I helped him find the right wife, I might be able to secure a position as a fucktoy. After all, a man like hers deserved as many women as he wanted.

I didn't need to find him a wife right now. I just needed a cunt to give him to prove my sincerity! And to make me a co-conspirator, so he could trust me not to betray him, I guess. Technically, capturing deluded feminists and fucking some sense into them would be considered kidnap and rape. I'd forgiven him long ago. Any woman with sense would do so as well. How could they not forgive him!? He would open their eyes and show them the truth, not the bullshit they'd had shoveled down their throats by everyone and their professors. Once he had put some of his cure down their throats, maybe he could use mine too.

Unfortunately, given the fact that it was technically a crime until they forgave him, we needed to be smart about it. I'd thought that all the True Crime podcasts would give me an advantage here. Looking at them, all I found was how not to get away with kidnapping. I was reminded of the quote they used in that movie I watched when I was younger, "National Treasure", they said it came from Edison. "I didn't fail, I found 10,000 ways not to make a lightbulb." I'd found a lot of ways to not successfully kidnap a person. It made me scared. What if I messed up? If I did, we'd both go to jail and I'd never get to spend another hour in his embrace.

"Hey, why don't you go get lunch?" Jannelle suggested. "Then you can take over and I'll take my lunch."

I nodded and went to get lunch. The meals were provided by the conference in a back room for vendors and presenters. I grabbed some food not really caring what it was. Ham, rolls, some sort of pasta, and a drink. It might as well have been sawdust, it wasn't what I craved. If I was sitting on his lap, with his dick in my snatch, then I might have enjoyed the food, but that wasn't happening. Distracted as I was from the food, my ears picked up.

"... nepotism at its finest." A woman at the next table over chuckled. "But I would have done the same for my daughter. Get some experience on her resume, help with her college applications, and pay her probably well over standard hiring rates."

"So, now her daughter has graduated, they're taking a backpacking trip?" the other asked. "Is there a reason they waited so long?"

"Something about new hires needing a certain amount of time before they can spend PTO." The first woman dismissed with a shrug. "And since she was moving from a paid intern position to full-time employee she had to deal with it."

"Wait, she gave her daughter how much PTO... as an Intern?" The second woman snorted.

"More than I get, I tell you that. I wish I could take three weeks to go backpacking in the mountains." The first retorted.

"Damn, and when is her presentation?" The second pressed.

"3:00, Hall C." The first woman told her as they stood and went to return to their duties.

It was perfect! Not quite the two months I'd planned for my road trip, but... it would have to do. I waited for the women to leave, then pulled out my pamphlet with the presentation schedule.

"3:00, Hall C... 3:00, Hall C... 3:00, Hall C..." I whispered, finding the presentation to see who was the presenter. Ms. Cassandra Whitmore. I had a potential name, now I just had to get through the day so I could find a safe place to research. The rest of the day went by incredibly slowly, and I was so excited that when I got home I went straight to my computer, loaded up a VPN or Virtual Private Network, and started researching. I used a VPN because the ads said it made you untrackable on the internet, and if I was going to avoid getting caught, I needed that.

Cassandra Whitmore. "How strong principles helped me in business and divorce." ...What a load of shit. Might as well have titled it "How to use feminism to fleece your husband and your job." I pulled out my phone and did a couple of quick searches. Boom. I was in luck. Pictures of her and social media posts, which I used to find her daughter. Cassandra was stereotypical. Mature, bleached blond, with fair skin and light green eyes that belonged on a brunette. Big breasted with a waist that said she spent plenty of time on her appearance-- maybe fishing for another man. As large as her breasts were, it was hard to tell if they were natural or not. I was confident in my breasts, but her's made me a little nervous. If my man was into MILFs, she would be perfect... I just hoped she wouldn't replace me once he fucked the stupid feminism out of her head.

Her daughter was the real prize. Or at least, she might be. Her hair was auburn, or perhaps a touch too red to be auburn, but it had enough red to be appealing if he had a thing for redheads, and her dark green eyes were cute, with a natural innocence about her face that was almost impossible to fake. Talia's social media was sparse, but her mom posted way too much, which got me more and more excited. Ms. Whitmore was involved in EVERYTHING in her daughter's life, from vacations to multiple weekly trips to the gym, and all of it was plastered in photos on Ms. Whitmore's social media. So while Talia's social media was tame, with the spiciest thing she posted being herself in a formal gown with thin straps for some event her mother dragged her to, her mother had no problem posting pictures of her daughter, even if her daughter was clearly uncomfortable in the pictures. "Which bikini looks better on my sweet baby?" Captioned a couple of pictures of an uncomfortable-looking Talia with a forced smile in a pair of string bikinis, with front and back pictures, showing me all the goods. My boobs might be bigger than hers, but her ass was made to be fucked. Tight and firm, with enough substance to appeal, but not enough to get in the way. It looked good enough to make me jealous, and given how much pleasure my man took in fucking my ass, I was sure he'd love it.

Even better, I realized, as I continued to scroll, Mommy Whitmore might have just made this even easier for us. You see, Mommy Whitmore, as she called herself in posts about her daughter, seemed to have cudgeled and coerced her daughter to the point that she wouldn't know how to stand up for herself if she tried. Talia was going to the college her mom had. Talia drove the car her mom wanted. Talia only hung out with her friends when her Mommy said she could. Talia got the job Mommy wanted for her. Hell, it even looked like her mom dressed her.

A perfect submissive woman, beautiful, and smart enough to learn how to be a proper wife. She'd gotten her Bachelor's degree in just three years, so she had to have some brains. Though my man would have to fuck out any bullshit ideas about men being anything other than the amazing, powerful kings they were that her mother had brainwashed her with. If she was smart, she'd be begging him to wife her up after the three weeks of getting a taste of his dick.

I was even more excited when I noticed a post by Ms. Whitmore, shortly after Talia's high school graduation, nearly three years ago at this point, about how her baby was beautiful and perfect because she'd kept those icky hormones in harmful birth control away from her. She even mentioned how with her daughter being bi, she wouldn't ever need birth control since she was smart enough she'd find a girlfriend. Suddenly all the pictures I had scrolled past of the two of them at dinner with another young lady made sense. Ms. Whitmore had been trying to match her daughter up with some feminist lesbians, but by the looks of it, none of them had stuck around, and Talia never mentioned being bi in any of her posts.

Perfect. Now, I just needed to figure out where they went running late at night and we could set everything up.

...

Of course, it wouldn't be that easy. Why did I think it would? Of course, they didn't go running late at night in dark parks. I was the only one stupid enough for that. And even if they did, it took my man two arms to restrain me and knock me out with what I figured was chloroform but could be anything. I didn't have an in-home gym where I did weights as well as run on treadmills and ride the stationary bike, so the odds of me being able to take one of them down were slim.

No! This wasn't good! I was supposed to figure out how to kidnap them so that I could deliver the plan to my man and prove myself to him! I'd found my targets, and I knew the dates, I just had to figure out how to get them knocked out so we could take them!

As much as Ms. Whitmore bragged online about all her trips, it was not surprising she was already gushing over her upcoming trip. Preview photos from other people who had done the week-long hike through the mountains were everywhere, along with promises to photo dump when she got home since she probably would be without internet for three weeks. From the pictures, they lived in a patrolled and gated community, so apparently concerns about having her house broken into weren't a thing for her.

I flopped down on my bed. Come on, THINK! I thought through all the crime documentaries I had watched. Unfortunately, the ones that got away, the police often didn't know how they did what they did, or the police would have used that knowledge to catch them. So while I knew a TON of ways the police caught people... how do you get away with kidnapping two people, probably in broad daylight?

I wasn't going to give up that easily. I resumed my investigation. I saw a few pictures of Ms. Whitmore, and noticed something... the picture she often posted online of her house, with a three-car garage in a gated neighborhood, didn't match the two-car garage she posted pictures from inside the garage. That got my brain thinking. What if... she didn't live where she said she did online? That would make sense. I did some sleuthing and found... Bingo! That was her old house, from before her divorce. Her new house was a little smaller, and not inside a gated and patrolled neighborhood. Then I looked at those pictures of her garage again. It was so full of various junk that there was no way she pulled her car in... And every picture they were in that wasn't at a nice restaurant (gym photos, beach photos, candid house photos, etc.) all had one thing: their Stanley Tumblers. An idea was starting to form. There were only a few days before their intended camping trip, and I needed to get approval from my man. Time for a run in the park. I had told him I'd wear my green shorts once I found a girl for him, but if I waited an extra day, I might not have time. I went straight for the blue shorts, and began writing my plan out...

I hoped he thought it was good enough.

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(Steven)

I was almost starting to worry Karen was trying to lead me on, given how every night she came running with her red shorts on. But then again, what kept her from just stopping? Her behavior was a mystery to me. I mean, I'd kidnapped her, raped her, and she was begging for more and hoping to help me get other girls? Seriously, what the hell?

Not that I was complaining, mind you, provided she wasn't setting me up, and she seemed legit about the whole thing, but...

Wait, tonight was different... Blue shorts? Wasn't she supposed to do green? Blue was for...

When she reached the dark patch where I had nabbed her, both times before, she took longer than usual to emerge into the light. She'd left something for me. I had been watching, and there was no one in the park except us, so I hustled over through the shadows and found a paper, weighed down with a rock. I stood in a thicket just close enough to one of the lights so that I could read it.

Holy fuck! She hadn't just found me a girl, she had a pair! She'd even printed out pictures. One looked much older, like in her forties, while the other was more what I expected Karen to go for, a younger woman, looking to be about 20 years old. I began to read. A mom and her daughter. Okay, fuck, that was hot. The mom was a divorced bitch, and if the girl wasn't going to become a stuck-up cunt like her mom, we'd have to save her now.

Man, Karen had some weird ideas about the whole kidnapping and rape thing. How this was helping anyone but me was beyond me. But if that was how Karen wanted to think about it... It got me what I wanted and I wasn't going to complain.

She spent a lot of time talking about the two women, and I admit, it got me excited. She had names, addresses, the whole shebang. Then I read down at the end. A three-week hiking trip through the mountains. That was perfect. Then I read her plan to take the two women, and I almost got nervous. Karen wanted to wait until they were packing the car, the morning of (or the night before) their trip, and sneak sleep medication into their Stanley cups. She figured they would put them in the car, and then have to take multiple trips back and forth. Since the car couldn't fit in their garage, presumably because of a mess in it, they'd be in and out and she'd sneak in and drug them. Then once they fell asleep, we'd take them, just like I'd taken her.

I sat back. Damn, that was risky. What if someone saw me? Well, I guess she'd taken care of that. She said she'd put the drugs in their cups. But what if they didn't use cups like that? What if they left them inside?

There were so many "what ifs" that I could 'what ifs" all night. She said if I said yes, she'd figure out which medicines to use and how much and where to get them, but since they planned on leaving on their trip in just a few days, she needed an answer tonight. She said I could either come talk to her in her car or write my answer on her note and she'd run another lap to collect it.

I deliberated for a minute. It was risky. I didn't like the chances of her getting caught, and then potentially me, since I'd be there to shove them in the car and drive their car to hide it in my garage for the duration of their visit to my house. But... Looking at those pictures, the mom was a definite MILF, and while I'd never had a thing for MILFs, having one right in front of you like that definitely was appealing. The daughter was fucking hot too! Damn it. Risking it for the coochie. Only one thing could stop me. I opened Google Maps and checked the street view of the house. No fence, but lots of trees and shrubs. Hmmm, this just might work.

I didn't wait for her to run a second lap, I hadn't been smart enough to bring a pen or pencil anyway. So I went, and snuck up to her car, opening the passenger door and slipping in, startling her.

"OH! Hi... Um... So... What do you think?" She asked.

"We'll try it."

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(Karen)

It was so exciting! I had the powdered medications, in little paper baggies, and was crouched behind a shrub right outside the Whitmore house! I'd been worried about the dogs when I came and scouted out the place two days ago, but they had taken them somewhere, a kennel or something for the three weeks they'd be gone. I had thought they'd pack in the morning before they left, but luckily my man was smarter than me and had us check the night before too... and here they were, packing food, backpacks, and stuff.

"Ha, liars." He snorted. "You don't take this much crap on a backpacking trip. They're probably just planning on going camping and claiming they backpacked the whole way."

It made sense.

Just as I suspected, after a few minutes of packing, they got thirsty and Ms. Whitmore had Talia bring her a drink. The Stanley cup was set on the brick half-wall of their porch when she was done with it, and Talia put hers next to it.

"No way." My man breathed.

"Hey, mom! Where did you put the tent?!" Talia called.

"On the shelf in the back!" Ms. Whitmore yelled at her daughter.

"I don't see it!"

"For the love of God..." Ms. Whitmore raged and pulled herself out of the car and stormed into the house.

This was it. I hurriedly crept up to the house, popped the tops of the Stanley tumblers, and poured the powder inside. I used the straws to stir really quickly, then got the lids back on. Everything I'd read said the powder didn't have a strong flavor, and I sure hoped they were right! I got the powder in and had to duck behind the wall, my heart racing as they emerged with the tent.