"W-What," I hear the woman in the back seat groan in a soft groggily manner. I smile my sexy and feminine smile at this as it makes me very happy. No one can see my smile as we drive down this lone road in the dark of night. I always like it when they wake up. I love seeing their scared reaction to what's happened and then the reaction to what's going to happen.
"Hello sweetheart," I greet the woman, looking at her through the rearview mirror as I drive since she's in the backseat. She doesn't respond to me, but she does groan a pained groan which makes me smile wider.
"So glad you are awake darling," I say in a bright, fake happy tone. It'll take her drugged mind a few moments to figure out that her hands and ankles are cuffed. Not that its needed. She'll be in a drugged daze for at least another two hours.
"Y-Y-You...You are....y-y-you a-a-are..." she tries to say, her brain trying so hard to make a complete sentence. This makes me smile wider. I do love it when they are this helpless.
"The nerdy girl from the club, yes. That's me," I say, figuring this is what she most likely is trying to say. Right after I say this, I let out a laugh. It always feels good when a plan not just works but goes smoothly.
"You have no idea how hard it is to look like that," I tell her, not that she cares. But it's true. People don't realize how hard it is to look like a down-home nerdy girl, when you are someone like me. I'm a star. A top level beauty. Looking ugly is hard work.
"It takes me a few hours to get myself looking like the shy nerdy girl that desperately needs someone to take her under her wing at a club. But to get myself looking like the sexy bitch I really am, barely takes any time," I tell her, knowing this conversation is one way. I let this hang in the air as silence begins again.
"Times have changed, you know that?" I muse out loud. I say this to myself but decide to let her into my thoughts. Not that I care what she might say, but I know this will be a form of torture for her, so I don't mind.
"Used to be that I could get dressed up, nice and sexy, and get whomever I wanted at a bar or club. But these days people are so suspicious of a hot girl that is interested in you. People are always so damn careful now. Wanting to know more about you, checking your Facebook, phone number and all that shit. Well, except for the drunk losers, and they are never a target," I explain, hating how protective the world has become of late.
"So...I had to change my gameplan. Evolve with the times," I say, very proud of myself. It's true. Not but 6 months ago I could go to whatever bar or club I wanted with a low-cut dress and a short skirt and have my choice of any female victims and the occasional male victim. It didn't even matter what city it was either. Could hand-pick who I wanted, turn on the sexy charms and then kidnap them.
That dried up. People were interested, but they were too careful. The horny hope for a one-night stand or night of experimenting changed into wanting to learn more about each other. It was like they knew what I was up to and wouldn't give me the chance to pull any of my tricks. Like they learned just what to do to ensure they couldn't be taken. They kept their drinks with them or had a covered glass so I couldn't spike them. They wouldn't come with me to an empty place so I could taze them. Didn't want to come with me to "meet my friends" outside so my boys could grab them.
I then had an idea after an entire month went by without making money. A freaking genius idea. If the hot sexy girl isn't working any longer, why not the opposite? So I went out, bought me some ugly ass clothes and perfected my nerd look thanks to losers I saw on Facebook.
Dressing like one was the easy part. Hard part was acting like one. Took me damn near another month to get it just right. For someone like me, pretending to be an insecure, ugly and desperate girl is extremely hard. But once I got it perfected, things changed. Record breaking profits type change.
"W-W-Where," she asks now, her body still slumped against the door as the seat belt holds her up. That's interesting. Normally they ask where we are going much later. Normally they want to know what's happening. This one seems to be a bit of a fighter.
"Where are we? Or where are we going?" I ask, then laugh because I know she can't answer. I doubt she even knows her name at the moment.
"I'm just messing with you sweetie. We are currently a few hours out of the city headed to a very special place," I inform her. Normally I wouldn't be so upfront with information, but what is she really going to do? And where she's going, I doubt she will be saying anything except whatever her owner wants her to say.
"You, my special little victim, are going to be sold as a sex slave for a fuck-ton of money," I tell her, then laugh again. Normally I like to share this when the girl is fully awake because I love their reaction. The way they get so scared. The disbelief that flashes over them. The way their mind snaps. But no matter, I'll tell her again as I doubt she'll even remember this conversation.
"But don't worry. You aren't the first to fall for my charms, nor will you be the last. I'm actually the best Taker in the business. A Taker meaning someone that snatches pretty young things to send to auction. I bring in the most, and that's why I'm paid very well to do it," I inform her, my voice dripping with pride. It's true too. None of the other Takers can never come close to my counts.
"O-O-Out of c-c-city?" She asks now, her voice sounding oddly very concerned. This surprises me. By now the victim is normally begging me not to do this. That they can pay me more to let me go. That they will do whatever I want if I only let them go.
"Yes. We are out of the city. Far away in fact," I answer, looking at her in the rearview mirror. I can see she's fighting the effects of the drugs, hard. I actually have never seen anyone fight that hard before. Turns out she is special after all.
"N-N-No. Y-You...You h-have to t-t-take me...b-b-back," she says slowly, which makes me smile. I knew she would beg sooner or later. They always do.
"Sweetie, you aren't going anywhere, except to an owner where they will abuse those tits of yours and that pussy, not to mention your mouth and ass," I tell her as crudely as I can. This makes my smile change to a very evil smirk. I don't know why, but I love the idea of my victims being nothing but sex slaves. That the life they had is over and now they exist just to be fucked and get beaten. It always makes me excited to think of that.
"D-D-Don't...u-understand," she tells me, making me laugh. That's something they all say too. That I don't understand. That I have no clue who they are. That people will be looking for them. That they have a family that needs them.
"Oh, you are the one that doesn't seem to understand. In fact, I think you should start practicing this phrase, "Yes sir, please slap my tits." I tell her, laughing after I do.
