"Burglary Turned Kidnap"(F/m)... anyone?

If you are having trouble finding an old story and remember the title, author, and/or a description someone might be able to help track it down!

Moderator: Archiver

noyoyo
Forum Contributer
Forum Contributer
Posts: 16
Joined: 5 years ago
Location: USA

"Burglary Turned Kidnap"(F/m)... anyone?

Post by noyoyo »

A multi-chapter story written a few years ago about a boy who stumbles in to a burglary by a woman, is kidnapped by her, and held captive for weeks.

Anyone remember it?
drew2099
Forum Contributer
Forum Contributer
Posts: 3
Joined: 4 years ago

Post by drew2099 »

I’ve heard of it. I’ve been wanting it on here too.
User avatar
Glovedgirllover
Forum Contributer
Forum Contributer
Posts: 49
Joined: 4 years ago
Location: Europe
Contact:

Post by Glovedgirllover »

I hoped it was your own story? No?
User avatar
JulieG
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1596
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Tied up and spanked over your knee, or in the dungeon tormenting you!

Post by JulieG »

Sounds a good story. Shame I can't remember it.
Reidy
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 717
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by Reidy »

Sounds like one of my fantasies.
Tugger90
Forum Contributer
Forum Contributer
Posts: 57
Joined: 3 years ago

Post by Tugger90 »

Im half tempted to try to gather as much information on this story as I can to recreate it, or maybe simply do a RP. Either way sounded like a fun story and I hope you find it!
Larzade
Forum Contributer
Forum Contributer
Posts: 16
Joined: 4 years ago

Post by Larzade »

Burglary turned kidnap F/M

I was racing to finish getting ready to go out. For most people going to the movies is no big deal, but for a 15 year old boy hanging out with his friends… especially the hot girl who sits across from him in Biology class that he’s desperately trying to impress… it takes a bit longer. After careful consideration, I decide to go with the black warm up suit. It’s a little cool out, even for October, but my jacket was too cumbersome. I lived about two miles from the movie theater, but walking on my own was better than having my mom drive me. You know how 15 year olds are about appearances. A couple sprays of cologne and my third gargling of mouth wash and I’m ready. If I leave now I can make the theater by 7:30.

As I was running down stairs I shouted to my mother that I was leaving. “Did you remember to walk Mrs. Fitzgerald’s dog?” she asked. SON OF A BITCH!

“No mom, I forgot. Any chance you could do it for me? Just this once?” I already know the answer.

“I’m not the one she’s paying $50 to walk her dog,” mom said. Mrs. Fitzgerald, our neighbor, was on vacation with her husband. They were both very wealthy and they went on a lot of vacations. When they did I got paid $50 a week to feed the dog and walk him twice a day. Not a bad deal, and it was paying for my movie tickets, but I was already cutting it close. The Fitzgeralds lived a mile in the opposite direction of the theater. “Wait a minute and I’ll drive you,” my mom said.

“Never mind, mom. I’ll run over and do it quick.” I was in a hurry, I figured if I jog I can make it in decent time. I didn’t want to run and sweat and arrive to the theater a mess after all that preparation, but I also don’t want to “wait a minute” or have my mom drive me to the theater. Appearances. “I’ll see you later!”

“What time will you be home?” mom called.

“I don’t know, tenish?” I guessed.

“Ok, but don’t stay out too late. I have a meeting in the morning so I’ll probably be asleep. Your father gets home from his trip tomorrow so make sure you take the trash out when you get home…”

“I will. Bye!” I cut her off as a ran out of the house. I started jogging over toward the Fitzgeralds. Despite my best efforts to balance hurrying and not breaking a sweat, I felt one coming on as I approached the front door. I took off my jacket as I searched for the key to the house, hoping to cool off. When I opened the door I expected to hear their dog, Victor, barking like mad as usual. Instead, however, there was complete silence. I went into the kitchen and hung my jacket over the back of a chair.

Suddenly I felt a leather-gloved hand sneak around my head and clamp tightly over my mouth. At the same time I felt something being thrust into my back. Before I could even begin to panic, a female voice hissed in my ear, “It’s a gun. Don’t scream. Don’t struggle. If you fight me I’ll kill you.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before I could even process their meaning. “Get down on your stomach. Now,” she ordered. The woman knelt down with me, her hand still firmly clamped over my mouth and the gun still in my back. “I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth,” she said. “This is not an invitation for you to speak. If you make a sound I’ll shoot you right here in the kitchen. I’m just going to tie you up. Be still and you’ll be fine.”

Slowly, she released her grip on my mouth. I didn’t dare utter a sound. I was scared senseless. She took the gun out of my back and straddled me from behind. She pulled my hands roughly behind my back and I could feel rope being looped quickly around my wrists. In what seemed like a moment, she was done. She then slid down off me and tied my ankles together. I laid there on the cold tile floor, afraid to even breathe too loudly. When she was done she pulled me a few feet to an island counter in the middle of the kitchen. I could tell she was very strong. The woman propped me up against the island and began tying my knees together when I got my first look at her.

The lights were off and the only light in the room was the moon light coming through the window, so I couldn’t see her that well. The woman was young, 20s or maybe early 30s. Her dark hair was pulled back very tightly. She was wearing black pants with a tight black tank top that showed off her muscle toned arms and very ample breasts. As she tied my knees I only got a few looks at her face in the light, but she seemed to be quite pretty, certainly much more beautiful than I was expecting someone who had just attacked me to be.

When she finished tying my knees she knelt beside me and grabbed my face roughly with one of her leather clad hands. “Who are you?” she demanded. “You don’t live here.”

“I just walk the dog,” I stammered. “I just came here to wal…” she clamped the hand over my mouth suddenly.

“Keep your voice down,” the woman said in a voice that was both quiet and dangerous. Slowly she moved her hand. “Who are you? Do you live around here?”

“Yea, I’m a neighbor,” I told her in a much quieter but still shaky voice. “Mrs. Fitzgerald pays me to walk her dog.”

“Does anyone know that you’re here now?” she asked.

“My mom,” I answered. I wasn’t sure if I should have told her that but I couldn’t think clearly enough to decide whether or not to lie in my situation.

“So in about twenty minutes she’s going to drive over here to find out why you didn’t come home?” The woman asked.

“No, I’m going to the movies after I’m done walking the dog.” I told her.

“You’re sure? Because if she comes here I’ll have to kill you both.”

“NO!” I started to yell before the woman muffled it with her hand.

She glared directly into my eyes. “I’m not going to tell you again, kiddo. Keep your voice down.” She glared at me for another few seconds. “Are you sure that no one is going to come over here and check on you if you’re not home in the next hour? Don’t you fucking lie to me either because if anyone does, you’re both dead.”

She moved her hand again, “Yes,” I managed. She looked deep into my eyes for a few long moments, I guess trying to figure out if I was lying.

“Ok,” the woman finally said. “There’s a safe in the house. Do you know where it is?” I shook my head no. She tightened her grip on my face. “Are you sure?” I nodded as best I could. Once again she searched my face to see if I was lying. “Ok.” She said and got to her feet. She walked into the darkness of the next room, I could barely make out her figure. After a few moments she came back with a cloth she was balling up and a roll of duct tape on her wrist. She knelt beside me, “Open your mouth.”

“Wh-what are you going to do.” I asked her, half sure I already knew. Sure enough, she reached over and pinched my nose tightly. When I opened my mouth to yelp she violently shoved the ball of cloth into my mouth. She took the duct tape and began wrapping in around my head very tightly. After about ten wraps she bit the piece off and pressed her hands hard against the tape covering my mouth.

She grabbed a handful of my hair and jerked my head back to look at her. “Don’t move from this spot. Just sit here and be quiet.” I tried to mumble through the gag to plead for her to let me go, but she jerked my head even harder back and I instantly stopped. Glaring at me again with her big dark eyes, she said, “Be quiet. And don’t move. Don’t try to talk to me, that’s why I gagged you. Blink once if you understand.” I blinked to show compliance. She stood up, keeping her gaze fixed on me. “You’ll be fine.” she said as she disappeared again into the darkness.

I could hear her climbing up the stairs, probably in search of this safe she had mentioned. I was still shocked by the last five or ten minutes and this was my first opportunity to test my bonds. The ropes were very tight on my wrists but not tight enough to cut off circulation. I couldn’t find the knot with my fingers and wiggling my wrists wasn’t helping at all. My legs were no better. I kept looking for a weakness in the woman’s handiwork, freezing in fear a couple of times when I heard something upstairs. I must have been struggling around on the floor for fifteen minutes with absolutely nothing to show for it.

Suddenly my cell phone started to ring in the pocket of my jacket, still hung over the chair. I froze. I listened in between rings for the sound of the woman coming down the steps but I heard nothing. After the fourth ring I decided to make an attempt for the phone. I caterpillared my way across the floor to the chair. I couldn’t manage to get on my feet, so I tried to lay on my back and use my feet to get the jacket off the chair. The phone stopped ringing and I froze, fearing my opportunity had been lost. Moments later the ringing began again and I went back to kicking at the jacket trying to knock it off the chair.

The woman suddenly appeared, towering over me, out of no where. I hadn’t heard a thing, and the woman I now saw was even wearing boots. She took the cell phone from my pocket and silenced it. She reached down and grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me up toward her.

“Is this your mother?” she asked, showing me the phone. I recognized the number as my friend Jimmy and shook my head no. “Is it one of your friends expecting you at the movie?” she asked. I nodded. She released my shirt, dropping me hard on the floor. I grunted in pain.

She slipped my phone into her pocket. She walked behind me, put her hands under my arms, and hoisted me to my feet with remarkable ease. She was even stronger than she looked. Standing next to her I also found she was tall. I was 5’8 and she must have been at least 6’0 with those boots on. She then stunned me by crouching down in front of me, grabbing my torso, and lifting me over her shoulder. I yelled into my gag to express my unease about being carried off.

“Shut up,” she said in that quiet yet commanding voice of hers. I obeyed. “Don’t struggle or I’ll drop you.” With that she proceeded to carry me up the stairs with seemingly little effort. She brought me into the bedroom and dropped me roughly against a wall… apparently I was more of a load than she had made it seem. She forced me back to the ground and, without a word, turned and went into the closet. I could now see her flashlight and some equipment she had in there. I couldn’t tell but she seemed to have found her safe in the floor of the closet. After a few minutes the phone rang again. She stopped, glanced at it, and continued her work. I sat against the wall completely motionless, quietly praying the woman would find what she wanted and leave.

I heard the phone ring again. This time she stopped her work to come out and show me the phone again. “Who is Jessica?” she asked. “Another friend?” I nodded. She turned to go back to the closet when the phone beeped a text message. The woman glanced at the message and I could see her smile slightly in the light of the phone screen. She looked down at me on the floor, “Looks like we won’t be hearing from your friends anymore tonight. They decided they couldn’t wait for you any longer.” I hung my head, staring at the ropes that bound my legs. After a moment I was relieved. At least now they wouldn’t call my mom and she would not rush over here and be in danger. Now I had to hope the woman would be content to rob the safe and leave.

The woman returned to work and after a few more minutes I heard her open the safe. It took her only a few more minutes to stuff her bag with loot and pack up her equipment. When she finally emerged from the closet again she dropped the bag by the door. She grabbed my ankles and dragged me into the closet. It was completely black so she turned on her flashlight and held it between her teeth as she checked the ropes that tied me. She also double checked that my gag was still secure, which it was. She stood up and turned off the flashlight. “Just stay here,” she said. “This closet locks from the outside so don’t bother trying to get out. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” With that she closed the closet door and I heard the distinct sound of a key locking it.

I started to struggle as hard as I could, trying to run through all the potential scenarios this woman could have for me. After what felt like twenty minutes I suddenly realized that the woman might not have any plans to come back at all and had just told me she would be back so that I wouldn’t try to escape, giving her that much more time to get away. Of course, the downside to that was that I would be stuck there at least until morning, and possibly longer if my parents couldn’t hear me yelling from the closet when they came looking for me. I started yelling into my gag, just to see how loud I could get. I knew instantly that wouldn’t work, the closet was virtually sound proof as long as I had the gag in my mouth…

All of a sudden I heard the key turn in the door and my heart sank. Sure enough, when it opened I saw the shadowy image of the woman in the doorway. She flicked on her flashlight, blinding me. She knelt down beside me and sat me up. She grabbed my gagged face and made me look at her.

“Bad news, kiddo,” she said. “Unfortunately you saw me here tonight. You saw my face.” I tried to shake my head but she held me firmly. “Yes you did. And that means I only have two choices. Either I kill you right here on the floor of this closet…” I started screaming and pulling away from her, terrified that she had already made her decision. “…or…” the woman tried to say over my gagged yelping. She tried to get me to look her in the eyes again but I was flailing all about now in panic. She put the flashlight down, grabbed me by the hair with one hand and roughly grabbed my face again with the other.

“Or…” she began, waiting a moment for me to calm down. “Or, you told me you lived near here. Blink once for ‘yes’ if that’s true.” Cautiously, I blinked once. “You live in one of these big fancy houses, right?” I didn’t know what to do. “Blink twice for ‘no,’ once for ‘yes‘. Do you live in one of these big houses?” One blink. “So then my other option is to kidnap you and hold you for ransom.” If I relaxed at that moment, it was just barely. Being kidnapped was only slightly better than being murdered. She smiled at me as she sensed my resignation to what was about to happen. “Now, I’m going to have to carry you out to my car. If you scream or try to get away, then I’ll shoot you right there on the spot. Do you understand?” One blink. “Good boy. Now get up.”

The woman brought me up to my feet and once again slung me over her shoulder. She turned off her flashlight and tucked it into her belt. She then carried me down the steps and to the back door of the house. When we reached the door she paused. “Remember, kiddo, not one sound out of you.” I did nothing. “Good boy,” she whispered as she opened the back door. She trotted quickly across the backyard to a shed where she stopped for a moment to look around. After a moment she took off again for the woods. The woods behind the house were not too dense and she navigated her way through them with relative grace. After a few minutes she stopped and put me down on my two feet while she caught her breath.

There was a full moon that night and in the clearing of woods she had stopped in I saw my captor for the first time in the full light. I couldn’t help but take notice of how beautiful she really was and wondering why a such an attractive woman was robbing houses and kidnapping people. She just did not fit in the typical profile of a criminal. But beautiful or not, I didn’t want to go with her any further. Without really thinking about it, I started to wiggle my hands again, hoping beyond hope to get loose.

“Stop squirming,” the woman hissed at me. I looked up at her and, feeling a sense of complete helplessness, I started to shake my head and speak through my gag. “Oh shut the fuck up,” she said without any sense of sympathy or remorse as she slung me back over her shoulder and started moving again.

After another five or ten minutes we came out of the woods. She let me down to my feet against her car and I saw she had parked along a dirt road in some area I had never seen before. She bent down and picked up her bag with her tools and loot in it. Apparently she hadn’t thought she could carry both at once. She opened the back seat and put the bag on the floor. I braced for her to shove me back there when she closed the door and, instead, went around to open the trunk.

The reality of my situation overcame me again, and in panic I started hopping away from the car. “Where do you think you’re going,?” the woman teased. She bear hugged me from behind and lifted me back to the trunk. I tried to kick her but she crossed one of her legs in front of mine, locking them in place. I struggled to wriggle free but she squeezed me so tight that I was starting to have trouble breathing. I screamed as loud as I could but I already knew it was useless. “Stop yelling and stop squirming,” the woman commanded. “Listen kiddo, I didn’t want this any more than you did. But I have a choice, either I leave you behind to tell the police about me, or I make sure you can’t tell the police anything.” I started to calm down, mostly because I accepted the inevitable. “Now you have a choice. You can die here or you can get in the trunk. Now when you look at it that way it’s a really easy choice, isn’t it?” I nodded, panting heavily for air.

I did not resist as the woman lay me in the trunk. Once I was in she removed her black leather gloves and threw them in the trunk too. She grabbed a coil of rope near my head. “I just want to make sure you don’t try anything stupid like trying to kick around back here,” she told me. She proceeded to hogtie me but left plenty of slack. It was just enough to keep me from kicking the sides of the trunk. She examined all of my bonds once more and finished by pressing her hands against the tape over my mouth.

“I hope you’re comfortable, kiddo, you’re going to be in here for a while.” She patted my face hard a few times. I glanced up at her in time to see her close the trunk, plunging me into total darkness once again. Moments later the engine started and the car began moving…


The ride in the trunk was extremely uncomfortable, especially in the beginning. The dirt road was bumpy and I was bounced around pretty aggressively since the woman driving made no attempt to take it easy. I could tell once we were on a main road and we must have gotten onto a highway at some point because we rode nonstop for a very long time. I spent most of the trip uselessly trying to wriggle out of my bonds and trying to find a comfortable position in the trunk. I was very worried about my parents and what they would be thinking when I did not come home. I was also worried about how long it would take them to pay my ransom and how long I’d have to spend with my captor.

After a while we started slowing down and taking a lot more turns. By the time we rolled into what felt like a driveway, it had seemed like I had spent hours in that trunk. I got a sick feeling in my stomach when I heard the garage door close behind us before the woman got out of the car. I could hear her open the back seat and grab her bag. I could hear her keys jingling as she opened the door to her house and went in. I just waited for her to come out and get me, but she didn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry. After what felt like another half hour, I heard her come back into the garage.

The trunk popped open and I squinted to see as the light flooded the trunk. I moaned into my gag with a mixture of discomfort from the light to the tightness of the ropes on my wrists. “Nice to see you too, kiddo,” the woman said as reached in to undo my hogtie. “I’m going to untie your feet so you can walk. Don’t even think about doing anything stupid like trying to get away.” I knew I was overmatched with my hands tied behind my back, but if there was any chance I was going to escape it was going to be when I had the freedom to run.

After she untied my knees and then my ankles, she pulled me out of the trunk. She stood me up with my back to the garage door. As soon as she turned around to close the trunk, I kicked the garage door behind me as hard as I could, hoping to catch someone’s attention. At the same time I screamed as loud as I could into my gag, hoping maybe all the noise would attract any neighbors. As the woman turned to face me I kicked at her as hard as I could with the same leg that had kicked the garage door. She had good reflexes and I only grazed her leg. She countered by grabbing my shoulders and kneeing me hard in the groin. Obviously I dropped to my knees and moaned in pain.

“Bad move, honey,” she said, quickly moving behind me. She clamped one hand over my gagged mouth and wrapped her other arm around my torso. I was in too much pain to resist as she started dragging me toward the door to the house, but I kept trying to cry out for help. “Shut the fuck up!” she hissed in my ear as she pulled me roughly toward the door. She dragged me inside and closed the door behind her. She moved her grip to a bear hug so she could carry me down a short flight of steps into a tiny work space below a larger flight of steps which I assumed led to the rest of the house. I was still yelling and still in pain, but I tried to wriggle away anyway. The woman responded by tripping me to the floor. “Bad, bad move kiddo,” she chided as she straddled my back. She proceeded to retie my ankles together. I gave up my resistance and just lay there in pain, more scared now than I was before. “There we go,” the woman said as she finished off my ankles. “That should keep you under better control.”

She stood up and stepped over me to a metal shelving unit with all kinds of tools and buckets of paint. It must have been on wheels or something because she easily slid it away, revealing a heavily locked door. I started moaning again into my gag in a mixture of fear and pain.

“Yea, don’t worry kiddo,” the woman teased as she started using multiple keys on the multiple locks on the door. “Once we get you set up in here, you won’t be pulling any more dumb stunts like that one.” She opened the door and turned on the lights. She turned and came back for me. “Let’s go,” she said, grabbing my ankles and pulling me half screaming into the room.

She closed the door behind her. She walked past me, glancing down at me as she went by. “You can stop the screaming now,” she said. “With that gag in your mouth this room is pretty much sound proof. No one is going to hear you.” I stopped moaning. Between her words and the pain, I had lost the will to resist at all.

I heard her fumbling around behind me and was startled when she suddenly grabbed my arms to haul me upright. “Come here,” she ordered. “Sit.” She sat me down in a wooden chair in the middle of the room. “Don’t move. Don’t make this any harder on yourself.” I obeyed. She went over to a wall and grabbed a few coils of rope that were hanging from it.

As I looked around the room I saw it was full of tools. There was a model safe set up on a work station and all kinds of equipment to suggest that this woman, whoever she was, was a professional. On the other side of the room she seemed to keep all her stolen merchandise. There were paintings and other works of art. There were boxes of jewelry and a small pile of stacked $100 bills at the end of one of the work stations.

“Hold still,” the woman’s voice ordered, startling me because I hadn’t realized she was already behind me again. She proceeded to tie my arms and torso to the chair. She then moved in front of me and tied my knees together again. She used a smaller piece of rope to anchor my bound ankles to the legs of the chair. She moved behind me again and tied my waist very securely to the back of the chair and attached my bound wrists to that binding with another piece of rope. She moved in front of me next, securing my thighs to the seat of the chair. The whole time she moved quickly and quietly. I kept quiet as well, still catching my breath from the struggle from the trunk to the chair.

When she finally finished tying me to the chair she stood up, put her hands on her hips, and looked me over. Apparently content, she reached down and roughly grabbed my face, forcing me to look her in the eyes. “I have some work to do now,” she said in the same soft but commanding voice she had used back at the Fitzgerald‘s house. “So just sit there quietly and don’t do anything to disturb me, you understand?” I grunted an affirmative response. “Stop trying to talk to me through the gag,” she said. “Blink if you understand.” I blinked. “Good boy,” she smirked, releasing her grip on my face.

She walked across the room and picked up her bag. She emptied what I assumed was the loot from the Fitzgerald home on her desk and began examining the jewelry under a microscope.

I sat completely still, afraid to anger my captor any more. I decided to wait until she left to test my bonds, but I assumed they would be just as secure as the ones on my wrists. All I could do was watch the woman and wait for her to make the next move. She did not even glance in my direction the entire time she was working.

Finally the woman yawned, glanced at her watch, and stood up. She came over to me and checked me over quickly. “In the morning we’ll go over the ground rules while you’re here with me,” she told me as she pulled on the rope that secured my torso to the chair. “Tonight,” she began, leaning down from behind me to plant a kiss on my forehead, “just get some sleep.” She went to the door, turned around and waved mockingly. “Goodnight, kiddo. Enjoy the quiet.” With that she flicked off the lights and left the room. I heard her lock the door three or four times and then slide the shelving unit back to hide the door.

I was alone. There was a lamp behind me that she had either forgotten or had decided to leave on which provided a little light in the room. I began struggling against the ropes, feeling for any give. There was none. I wiggled my wrists, kicked with my feet, thrust my hips, and rocked the chair. Nothing gave at all. I knew it was hopeless, but I was too scared to just give up. I tugged and wriggled and pulled but it was useless. Finally, completely exhausted, I gave up and hung my head. I was completely helpless and completely alone. Resigned to leave my fate in the hands of my family and the woman who had kidnapped me, I dozed off…



“Wake up,” a female voice called out in my sleepy delirium. Then I started to feel a few hard slaps on my cheek. I shook awake and found myself face to face with the woman who had kidnapped me the night before. It took a few seconds for me to come to terms with the fact that my abduction had not been a dream. The woman was smiling broadly at me, clearly enjoying my confusion.

“Rise and shine, kiddo,” she mocked. She was dressed in a pink tank top with dark blue training shorts, and a light glistening of sweat on her forehead suggested she had already finished her workout. I groaned loudly from the cramps and stiffness I felt from spending the night tied to the chair. “Yea, yea, yea, it sucks,” the woman said unsympathetically. She pulled over another chair and sat down next to me.

“So this is how this will work,” she said. “I’m going to take the gag out of your mouth and give you something to eat. If you scream, the gag goes back in and you get nothing to drink or eat this morning. Don’t try to talk to me or the same thing will happen. Just eat quietly and when you’re done we’ll take a trip to the bathroom. You understand?” I nodded and grunted affirmatively, instantly remembering her chiding last night about trying to through the gag. The woman slapped me upside the head and grabbed my face to bring us eye to eye. “What did I say about talking?” she asked quietly threatening. I said nothing. After a moment, she told me to blink if I understood and I complied.

She stood up and moved behind me, and I jumped when I felt something sharp and metal against my neck. “Just scissors, honey,” the woman said. “Relax.” She cut a tear in the tape and I felt a small bit of my hair get sliced too. She tore the tape out of my hair, which hurt. She then pulled the rest off my face and mouth. I was about to spit out the rag when she suddenly clamped her hand very tightly over my mouth. She pulled my head back to look up at her. “Remember, kiddo, not one word.”

She slowly lifted her hand, keeping it beside my face I guess in case I tried to yell. With her other hand she pulled the rag out of my mouth. I hadn’t realized just how dry my mouth was until it was out. She waited a moment, testing me, before she moved to one of her work stations.

She poured some orange juice into a red plastic cup and placed a straw in the cup. She brought the cup over to me and held it in front of my face. “Drink,” she ordered. I found the straw with my mouth and took a long drink. After a long night with a rag taped in my mouth, the orange juice was the best thing I had ever tasted. I stopped sipping for a moment to rest, but she pushed the drink closer to me. “Finish it,” she commanded. It didn’t feel too good drinking the cold juice quickly, but I decided it was better to drink up now in case my next drink didn’t come for a while. I sipped on the straw until I was slurping. The woman instantly took the cup away and went back to the work station. She began opening a yogurt when, for some reason, I let out a quiet “thank you.”

She froze, glaring at me with her big dark eyes. I opened my mouth to apologize but closed it when I saw her put down the yogurt and pick up a fresh rag.

“No, wait, I dmmpphhmph,” I tried to explain, but the woman came up behind me and started cramming my mouth with the new rag.

“Hopefully, you’ll learn how to follow directions before lunch,” the woman mockingly lectured, keeping her hand over my mouth to hold the rag in place. I tried to shake my head to get her hand off my mouth but she was very strong. I mumbled unintelligibly into her hand, hoping she’d show mercy. “Shut the fuck up!” she shouted as she reached for the duct tape. I stopped resisting as she wrapped the tape around my head.

“You know, this doesn’t have to be difficult,” the woman resumed in a lecturing voice as she continued wrapping the tape roughly and tightly around my head. “I didn’t want to kidnap you and you didn’t want to be kidnapped. But either we make the best of it or tonight I dig a hole somewhere in the woods.” After the eighth or so layer she tore the piece off and pressed down hard on my mouth to make sure the new gag was secure. She then moved around in front of me, and continued to smooth out the tape with both of her hands.

She looked me dead in the eyes. “Now, I was planning on taking you to the bathroom, but if you’d rather just sit here and piss yourself, that’s fine with me too.” I blinked twice for “no”. She grinned at me. “Good boy. I’m going to untie you completely except for your hands. And obviously the gag,” she added, reaching up to grab my gagged face. “You will walk with me to the bathroom and you’ll have three minutes to take care of business. If you do anything like the stupid ass stunt you tried to pull last night…” she grinned again, reached over and patted my groin hard. It didn’t hurt too badly but it didn’t tickle either and I let out a sharp grunt. “…well, you can probably guess. Do you understand all that?”

I blinked once to confirm that I understood. I did need to use the toilet pretty bad.

“Good,” she said. She took a few minutes to untie all the ropes. She spent an extra minute trying to undo the knot holding my waist to the chair. “Oh you must have been squirming around like crazy last night, these knots are so tight!” the woman teased. When she was done she helped me to my feet.

“Go ahead and stretch out there for a minute. You must be all cramped up between the ride in my trunk and spending the night tied to a chair,” she continued to tease. She was smiling with obvious false innocence as I shook my legs out. My right calf in particular hurt and I couldn’t help but moan a little as I tried to stretch it. The woman’s smile abruptly vanished. “Get used to it. Come on.”

She grabbed both my arms and pushed me toward the door. She opened it and led me into the tiny storage space outside. Up only four steps was the door to the garage. I glanced uselessly at it, pondering what would have to go right at this point for me to escape.

The woman sensed my thoughts. “Don’t even think about it honey,” she warned. I instantly dropped my gaze to the ground. She reached around with one hand and covered my gagged mouth, with her other hand firmly gripping my left arm. I had no intention of trying to yell but the position seemed to give her better control.

She led me up the few steps and then turned me up toward a much longer flight of steps. Slowly we worked our way up the stairs into a living room area. I noticed it was very plain and sparsely decorated, though distinctly “girly” in the colors. The blinds on all the windows were down, but she hurried me through the room and down a hallway. The bathroom door was open and my first disappointment was that it had no window.

“Ok, kiddo, you’re up,” the woman said, pushing me into the bathroom. She glanced at her watch. “Three minutes. Get busy.” She left the door open but moved away, mercifully giving me some privacy. Luckily I was wearing my warm up suit pants, so I was able to pull them down on my own even with my hands tied behind my back. A few minutes later I was flushing.

The sound immediately brought the woman back. She turned on the faucet. “Wash your hands,” she ordered. I was able to wet my hands under the sink, and she added some liquid soap. I couldn’t scrub too well but it was better than nothing. The woman took a towel and patted my hands down quickly to dry them. “Ok, come on honey. Back to the workroom.”

She pulled me roughly out of the bathroom and dragged me half-willingly back downstairs. Once we were back in her workroom she walked me over to a corner of the room with a small television. “Wait here,” she said. She grabbed the chair from the middle of the room and brought it over to me. “Sit down,” she ordered, pushing me into the chair anyway. She proceeded to retie me to the chair exactly as she had before. When she finished she stepped in front of me and leaned forward so that her face was only a few inches from mine.

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” she mocked with a smile. I just returned her gaze. Her smile disappeared and she grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back. “Answer me,” she demanded in her quiet, commanding voice. I blinked once, putting a tight smile back on her lips. “Good. Now I’m going to do some work so you just sit here and watch some TV.” She stood up and turned the TV on to some awful daytime show I didn’t recognize. She then left me sitting in the corner.

I pretended to watch TV but my mind was entirely focused on my situation. What was going on here anyway? If she was planning to hold me for ransom, why hadn’t she called my parents? She still didn’t even know my name! Surely if she wanted to kill me she could have by now, but if she was planning to ransom me what was she waiting for? She had established rules for my “stay” with her, so obviously she had a plan, right? Whatever she was planning, I just hoped she’d get it over with soon. My shoulders were tense and my wrists were extremely sore from being bound behind me for at least 12 hours now, if not longer.


I sat there in front of the TV, bound and gagged, for nearly two hours. Thanks to the television program I now knew the time… I had been a hostage of this woman for about 17 hours. She was still working behind me, though I had no idea on what. I had heard all kinds of drilling and tinkering sounds, but I had not been curious enough to try and sneak a look at what she was up to. The room was miserably hot and stuffy. I tried to wipe the sweat off my face, but every once in a while a salty drip would get in my eye and sting. My minor movements went unnoticed by the woman behind me.

At 1:00 she came over to the TV and turned it off. She looked down at me with her hands on her hips. “Hungry?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. I was more thirsty than hungry. My predicament was having an effect on my appetite but I nodded. “You think you can keep quiet long enough for me to feed you this time?” I nodded again.

She went over to a small refrigerator next to the TV and took out a yogurt and a bottle of water. Placing them on a work station, she picked up a pair of scissors and went behind me. With no regard for the pain it caused, she roughly tore the tape out of my hair and off my mouth. She clamped her hand forcefully over my mouth again before I could spit the rag out on my own. Her hand had the unpleasant scent of metal, oil, and sweat. She discarded the tape on the floor. She lifted her hand off my mouth like before, leaving her hand hovering beside my face while reaching in with her free hand to remove the rag. But this time she immediately clamped back down on my mouth once the rag was out.

Tossing the rag on the work station, she placed her hand under my chin to lift my head up towards her. “Before I give you some water, I have a couple questions for you,” she told me. “If you behave I’ll untie you hands for a few minutes and let you stretch your arms, but if you start yelling I’m going to gag you and leave you down here until tomorrow morning. Deal?” I blinked once to signal “yes.”

Slowly, she lifted her hand so that her palm was just half an inch off my lips. “What is your name?” she asked.

“Timothy Darden,” I answered simply.

“What are your parents’ names?” she asked.

“John and Carol,” I replied.

“Ok,” she said simply and moved away from me to open the water bottle.

I was confused. That’s it? “But what about…” I trailed off when she raised a finger to her lips.

“Quiet, kiddo,” she warned. “Chit chat is over. Don’t say a word or you’ll miss another meal.” I complied. My mouth was very dry and the room was hot. I needed water right now more than I wanted answers. The woman dropped a straw into the water bottle and made me finish the whole bottle. When I was done she spoon fed me some tasteless healthy yogurt. I assumed either that was the crap she ate or else she was only interested in keeping me nutritiously satisfied. Once the yogurt was done she gagged me again with the rag and the tape.

“Ok, I’m going to untie your hands,” she told me. “I’m leaving you tied to the chair. If you try to untie anything or take off your gag, I’ll just tie your hands up and that will be the last time I let you stretch your arms. You understand?” I blinked once to signal compliance. She proceeded to first untie the rope that secured my bound wrists to the rope tied around my waist. She then untied my arms and torso from the chair. With my waist and legs still tightly tied in place, she untied my wrists for the first time since she had seized me in the kitchen of the Fitzgerald home. I slowly moved my hands in front of me, my shoulders a little stiff with soreness. I massaged my wrists for a couple of minutes and then stretched my arms a bit.

After a few minutes the woman ordered me to put my hands straight up in the air. She then tied my wrists together very tightly over my head. She wrapped a smaller piece of rope around my wrists a few times and anchored them to the rope that secured my thighs to the seat of the chair. Finally, she moved behind me again. Wrapping some more rope under my arms and around the back of the chair, she effectively secured my chest to the chair.

The woman stood up and brushed a few stray hairs out of her eyes. Her dark brown hair was pulled back like the night before, but less severely. She tugged at a few of the ropes securing me to the chair. “There,” she said. “That should keep you pretty secure. You want the TV on?” I shrugged and then nodded, but she seized on my first move. “If you don’t know then I guess you don’t want it on.” She let out a long sigh. “Well I’m going to go take a shower. You…” she looked me over and threw her hands up with a short giggle. “You can just sit there.” I moaned a little bit but she ignored me, heading out the door. I moaned a little louder, hoping she would come back and offer to turn the TV on again. At least the TV helped me keep track of time. She ignored my increasing protests into the gag. She flicked the lights off and I heard her close the door behind her, followed by the sound of several keys locking it shut.

I tried to test my new bonds but I already knew they were good. My wrists were too sore to wriggle as hard as I had the night before. My fingers could not reach the knot that bound my wrists. I tried leaning forward and bringing my hands up to see if I could reach my gag, but both actions barely moved me an inch closer. I tugged and pulled every muscle trying to find some give in my new bindings, but I could find none. After a long time of hopeless struggling, I gave up for a while.

I was still seated facing the corner where the television sat. I tried to look around the room but it was too dark with only the single lamp left on in the opposite corner. I searched in the darkness for something sharp, not yet certain how I would reach it even if I could find one. I tried to rock the chair to move it out of the corner and nearly tipped over. My efforts to push the chair across the floor with my feet failed too. I couldn’t get the appropriate leverage. Hours passed with me just wriggling uselessly and staring at the blank TV screen.

Then my eye caught the knot of the rope that was anchoring my wrists to the rope around my thighs. I wasn’t sure if it would help much, but I figured if I could untie it I could then raise my hands to my lips and remove the tape over my mouth. I could then use my teeth to untie my wrists. I reached out as far as I could with the tips of my fingers for the knot that was holding my wrists in place. My fingers were damp and slick with perspiration and I had to keep wiping them off on my pants as I worked to undo the knot. I must have been picking at the knot for a half an hour when I finally was able to start getting some slack in it. Another five or so minutes later and the knot finally came undone.

I had to pull a couple of times before the rope came completely undone and I was able to pull my bound wrists away. I reached up to try and remove my gag but my range of movement was still extremely limited. I couldn’t find the end of the tape wrapped around my mouth so I couldn’t unravel it. Instead I started picking at the tape, trying to make a tear so I could rip the tape completely from my face. My nails were short and it took another few minutes but I finally was able to cut the tape and tear it apart. The tape hurt as I ripped it off and it took me a minute longer to peel it off my face. I spit out the rag onto the floor. Now, with my teeth, I started to bite at the knot that was binding my wrists together. After a minute the slack in the knot came and I was able to pull the knot open. I was just starting to dare to hope when I heard a movement…

I froze in panic. I listened for a second but heard nothing. I frantically started to pull my wrists apart. I began tugging at the rope wrapped around my chest, trying to find the knot on that binding. Then, the ominous sound came from the door of the metal shelving unit being rolled away. My legs were still bound, but I desperately thought that if I could just loosen my upper body maybe I’d be able to fight her off. I could hear her unlocking the door’s multiple locks, but I still couldn’t find the knot binding my chest to the chair. I looked expectantly toward the door…

The door creaked open and the woman entered the room. She was wearing a green, almost teal cocktail dress. She had let her hair down, the dark strands ending just above her shoulders. She stooped slightly to enter the room because her high heal shoes added a couple inches to her height. Because she had to stoop to enter she did not immediately see me sitting there, paralyzed with fear.

The door was open and I instinctively knew if my shouts for help would ever be heard by the neighbors, this was the moment. “HELP!” I shouted as loud as I could.

The woman immediately saw me sitting there with my wrists untied and sprang into action. She slammed the door behind her and darted across the room. Those heels she was wearing slowed her down, giving me an extra couple of seconds to call out for help. “HEEELLP! She has me in the basement!” my last words trailed off as the woman reached to grab me with her left hand. I deflected her attempt with my free hand but she punched with her right hand before I could defend it. She hit me squarely in the cheek. I felt my skin tear open, split by a ring she was wearing. The hit stunned me, but the woman was taking no chances. She hooked with her left hand and punched me in the stomach. I tried to fall forward but the ropes around my chest held me in place. I barely got the gasp of air out after the blow before her right hand slapped tightly over my mouth. She grabbed my left hand with her left hand and twisted it hard behind my chair, and I shouted into the woman’s hand with pain.

“Shut up!” the woman hissed in my ear. I continued to grunt, more in pain than out of resistance. My plan had been to fend her off long enough for my shouts to get the neighbor’s attention. I had to hope my brief cry for help had done that. The pain of my wrist twisted behind my back, the gut-wrenching ache in my stomach, and the stinging wound on my cheek had left me stunned and groaning.

The woman gripped me tighter and jerked my head when I didn’t stop moaning. “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” She was speaking in a low voice, and I hoped that meant she was also concerned my cries could have been heard. I tried to catch my breath through my nose and resist the impulse to groan in pain. “You little brat, you got blood on my ring! If you bleed on my dress I swear to god I’ll strangle you to death right now!.” I tried to keep still and calm down, but I was still in pain.

“There we go, just relax, kiddo,” she soothed me. “You’re not going anywhere. You got to throw your little tantrum, that’s fine. I shouldn’t have cared about making you more comfortable. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t get loose again.”

After a minute I finally got enough composure together to quiet down and hold relatively still. I tried to say I was sorry through the woman’s hand, but she pressed down harder over my mouth and twisted my hand a little bit. “I’m sure you’re very sorry, kiddo. But you’re going to be even sorrier if you start screaming again when I take my hand off your mouth.” She held my head tightly against her body behind the chair. “Now I’m going to tie your hands again behind your back. If you make one sound…” she flexed her grip on my mouth so that she was also pinching my nose shut with her thumb. “… I’ll suffocate you until you pass out. And if it kills you I’ll just bury you in a ditch somewhere later.” She knelt so that her face was next to mine. “Do you understand?” she asked. I blinked once to show I understood. “Good boy,” she whispered.

The woman released my mouth and pulled both hands behind my back. She grabbed the rope on the floor and started looping it around my wrists very tightly. I sat silently. I had made my play and I had to hope that somebody heard me shouting.

It seemed to take her no time at all to bind my wrists again behind me. She stood up and grabbed the rag off the floor and a roll of duct tape off her work station. “Open up,” she ordered. When I hesitated she poked at the cut on my face, causing me to yell out in pain. Most of the outburst was muffled as she stuffed the rag very forcefully into my mouth. She started wrapping the tape extra tightly around my head. “You know, Timmy,” the woman began, using my name for the first time, “I don’t think you’ve been a very appreciative hostage. You keep trying to bother my neighbors. This morning I had to tell my neighbor that all that banging she heard last night was the sound of a raccoon that had gotten trapped in my garage.” She bit the tape off and used her hands to make sure it was sealed tightly over my mouth.

She walked in front of me to pick up the other piece of rope off the floor. “I had to make up a whole lot of detail for her to buy that story,” the woman continued. She started using the rope to anchor my wrists behind me to the rope around my waist. “I mean, you could have it a lot worse. You could have been kidnapped by some big ugly guy who kept you in a trunk in his closet.” She cinched the knot tightly and stepped in front of me, kneeling to examine the ropes around my legs. “Someone who didn’t care if you pissed yourself or bothered to feed you.”

She stood up, opened a drawer and took out a clean rag that she used to wipe my blood off her hand. She looked herself over quickly to make sure none had gotten on anything else. She then reached up on a shelf and pulled down a first aid kit. She opened it, took out some rubbing alcohol, and applied it to the rag. She turned toward me, grabbed my face with one hand, and held me firmly as she pressed the rag against my cut. It stung.

“Most kidnappers,” the woman continued in a very casual voice, “wouldn’t care enough about your health to clean an open cut. They’d probably be really pissed that you were trying to get away.” She took out a band aid and placed it on my cut. She then put the first aid kit back on the shelf and turned back to me. “Luckily for you, my nosy next door neighbor is still at work, so there was no one to hear you screaming this time.” I looked up at her in disbelief. Maybe the woman was lying? But the thought died stillborn. She had no reason to lie. My entire escape attempt had been a complete failure.

Seeing the despair creep into my face, the woman started grinning broadly. “Don’t feel too bad, kiddo. If I thought my neighbor would call the police I’d probably have to kill you. Or else just pack up shop immediately and stash you somewhere else before any cops showed up.” She put both her hands on my lap and leaned in so she was looking right into my eyes. “But this is the second time you tried to get away, so you are going to have to be punished. For now, you can forget about your dinner or your evening bathroom break. You’ll have to hold it until tomorrow.”

She stood straight up again and brushed her hair back. “I’m going out with some friends. Girls night out,” she told me with a smile. “I’ll be back later tonight to check on you. Behave yourself.” She turned and headed to the door. I sat there, miserable and in pain, still sucking wind. She flicked the lights off, opened the door, and left. The all to familiar sound of keys, locks, and the sliding shelves outside the door made me sick with helplessness.

Once again I was alone. My wrists were tied extremely tightly and anchored more securely than before to the rope around my waist. I wriggled around a little to feel for any weakness in my bonds, but there were none. I was too tired and in too much pain to struggle for long. The heat in the room was making me sleepy, even though I assumed it could not have been too late. The ache in my stomach was still excruciating, although I felt it was just beginning to pass. My gag was so tight that even dropping my head caused discomfort.

I moaned in pain. My moan turned into a shout. Maybe the room wasn’t completely soundproof? Surely the woman had to be worried about the noise or else she wouldn’t be so preoccupied with keeping me quiet. Maybe she actually was lying about her neighbor being at work. In helpless desperation, mixed with the aches and pains I was feeling virtually everywhere, I started shouting into my gag. I yelled as loud as I could, to the point I could feel the cords in my neck and my face turning red. I struggled for a few minutes. But after five or so minutes of shouting and struggling I was in the exact same position as the woman had left me in. Exhausted, I gave into the merciful peacefulness of sleep.

I awoke later to the ever distressful sound of keys unlocking the door to the workroom. I was very drowsy. The woman entered and flicked the lights on in the room. I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the light. She walked over to me and looked over my bonds, tugging at a few to make sure they were secure. I didn’t look at her, but the perfume she was wearing seemed more pungent than before. After a day in the workroom it was a very pleasant change from the other smells in the room. Without a word, she turned and left the room.

As soon as I heard the shelves slide into place outside the door I closed my eyes, hoping to fall right back to sleep. I opened them suddenly with an unpleasant realization… after roughly 24-30 hours in captivity I was getting complacent. I had so accepted my situation that I was more interested in sleeping than in trying to escape. And what about the ransom? The woman could probably have gathered all the information she needed just by asking for my name and my parents’ names, but had she done anything yet? Escape seemed impossible for me, but how much longer would I have to endure being held captive? Even as I tried to work my way through these questions the heat, exhaustion, and dehydration eventually overcame me and I fell back to sleep.



I wasn’t sure which woke me up first: the sound of keys outside the door or my bloated bladder. Regardless, I decided to be as cooperative as possible this morning. I badly needed a bathroom break. I was also starving, having only eaten a cup of yogurt in the last 30+ hours.

This time when the woman entered the room she was wearing pajama pants and a Chicago Bears hoodie sweatshirt. Her face had the morning-look of someone who hadn’t been up too long. She was holding a steaming coffee mug in one hand and a bag of straws in the other. She saw that I was awake but did not acknowledge me as she walked over toward my chair. She put the straws on the work station next to me and started walking around the chair, checking on the ropes that were holding me. She finished by using her free hand to press down hard on the tape over my mouth, making sure it was sealed. She hopped up on a stool next to the work station, resting one hand on her hip, and continued drinking her coffee.

I gazed up at her, hoping she would have figured I needed a bathroom break by now. She looked back at me a couple of times in between sips but said nothing. Finally she finished her coffee and put the mug down. Raising her arms high over her head, she let out a gentle grunt as she stretched. “Ugh, its so hot down here,” she said suddenly. She pulled her sweatshirt off, revealing a bluish tie dye shirt.

“You missed a fun night last night,” she said very conversationally. “I definitely had a little too much to drink. We danced our asses off too.” She looked down at me. “Too bad you couldn’t come,” she smirked. “Maybe next time.”

I resisted the urge to start yelling and instead waited patiently for her to finish. The woman stood up and lifted my chin to meet her eyes. “You ready for another potty break?” she asked me condescendingly. I blinked once to signal yes. “Ok. No funny business today though, ok honey? I’m really not in the mood.” With that she began to untie me.

When she was done untying my chest she moved in front of me and grabbed me by my shirt to haul me to my feet. “Go ahead and stretch for a couple minutes, she said, moving beside me. She locked onto my left arm to hold me in place while I tried to shake out my legs. After a few minutes she started dragging me toward the door.

As we started going up the stairs I tripped on the first step, my legs feeling terribly weak and uncoordinated. I grunted when my knee banged against the wooden step. The woman reached in front of me and clamped her hand over my gagged mouth to haul me upright. She whispered in my ear, “Aww, what’s the matter, kiddo? Too weak to walk?” I tried to shake my head no. “Then walk. And be quiet. Wouldn’t want to disturb the neighbors now, would we?”

We finished up the bathroom break without any more incidents and returned to the work room. She tied me to the chair again in the same manner as before. Throughout the whole process I was as docile and cooperative as possible. I hoped that if I didn’t give her any trouble the woman might tell me what was going on with my ransom. After she finished tying me she removed my gag to feed me. She gave no warnings and I hoped that was a sign she was starting to feel comfortable with me. She first made me drink a glass of orange juice through a straw and then spoon fed me another yogurt. When she was finished she picked up the roll of duct tape.

She examined the roll. “Hmm, looks like I need to buy some more tape,” she said. The roll still had plenty of tape, and I wondered just how many more gags she planned to put on me. I stopped trying to make a mental estimation of how many more gags she could make out of the remaining tape when I saw her reach into her pocket. She pulled out a couple of worn socks. I looked up at her and she started grinning down at me.

“The first half of your punishment from last night was skipping dinner,” she said as she moved behind me. “The second part…” She paused to pinch my nose. I involuntarily opened my mouth to breath and she started stuffing the socks into my mouth. I caught a whiff of the smell as she stuffed the first one in my mouth. It was awful. The taste was even worse. “… I thought you might like to chew on my sweaty socks I wore all day yesterday.” I couldn’t see her but I could tell she was smiling as she spoke to me. “Maybe this will teach you to behave like a good little hostage.” I grunted both with the disgust of the taste of used socks in my mouth and in protest of the charge I wasn’t behaving. I had been cooperative all morning. But the woman was not impressed. She held my mouth closed very tightly with one hand as she prepared the duct tape. “If nothing else, they should keep you nice and quiet.” With that she wrapped the tape around my head, sealing the sour and bitter tasting socks in my mouth.

She stepped in front of me. Grabbing a handful of my hair she jerked my head back to look at her. The disgust in my face showed plainly and made her smile at my displeasure. “Aww, they’re not so bad are they?” she teased me. She used her free hand to squeeze my cheeks together repeatedly. She laughed at me as I squinted with disgust. I reflexively groaned and started and started to wriggle in the chair. She pulled my hair a little harder and turned my face toward hers. The smile disappeared. “Be quiet,” she said softly.

She stood up and put her hands on her hips and raised her foot on top of my lap in a victory pose. “I’ll be back in a little while. If you behave we’ll have lunch and, if you’re really good, maybe I won’t keep you gagged for the whole day with those yucky socks.” She reached down to pat my shoulder a few times and then collected her mug and the old rag that had gagged me this morning. She flicked the lights off when she left the room and locked everything up behind her.

As soon as I head the shelves slide back in front of the door I started testing my new bonds. I kept hoping the woman would make a mistake, but she had been very thorough so far. Either this tie-up-job was tighter than usual, or I was getting weaker. I tried not to move my mouth at all. Every time I shifted my tongue or flexed my jaw the rotten taste of the socks was accentuated. At least I had managed to get through a feeding without somehow forfeiting my next meal. As much as I wanted to keep trying to escape, the truth was that my compliance this morning had made for a relatively painless beginning to the day. Even the disgusting socks in my mouth were a punishment from last night’s botched escape attempt.

I had virtually memorized everything about the view I had of the darkened room. I was still seated facing the corner with the TV, so I had to turn my head to see the door to the workroom. Turning my head to the extreme right I could barely glimpse the lamp that was still on in the corner of the room. Along the wall were six big plastic containers stacked two-high. They were labeled but from my angle I could not read them. The more interesting view was to my left. In addition to the door I had a full view of her work station. The work station was made up of a long row of wooden floor cabinets. Along the wall there were shelves in some places and paintings in others. All of the frames were different and the diversity of the art all but confirmed the paintings were stolen. At the end of the work station nearest to me was the stack of cash. That she had left $30,000 only five feet from where I was tied spoke to her confidence in how well she had secured me. The thought was depressing.

I continued to shift and wriggle periodically in the chair, but this was more to get comfortable than to escape. I hung my head and closed my eyes. Time passed very slowly alone and helpless in the dark, and sleep was the only remedy. Even with the heat, I wasn’t tired enough to fall asleep. Instead I wondered about my parents and how worried they had to be. Once in a while I also fantasized about the meal I would eat when I finally was free. Then I’d go for a 10 mile run.

After several hours I heard the shelves sliding outside as the woman returned to the workroom. I mentally readied myself for her as the door unlocked.

She switched the lights on and I turned my head to see her enter the room. I got my first twinge of excitement in days when I saw her carrying a pizza box. I had only eaten a couple of healthy yogurts in the past two days and I was ready for some real food.

“I got a little surprise for you, kiddo,” the woman grinned as she hurried over to my chair. To my disappointment she put the pizza down on the work station next to the money and reached past me to turn on the TV. It was the afternoon news, reporting on a local fire in the city. “Oh damn, I hope we didn’t miss it,” the woman said, resting one hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her but she was glued to the TV. Suddenly she pointed at the screen. “There it is!” she exclaimed.

I looked at the screen to see an image of myself from my 8th grade graduation.

“Police have begun searching for a missing 15 year old boy,” the news anchor reported. “Timothy Darden went missing on Friday night after going to a neighbor’s house to walk their dog while they were on vacation.” As I watched, the woman put both of her hands on my shoulders and leaned in, resting her chin on top of my head. “When police investigated they found the house had been robbed. They say it is not clear whether Timothy Darden stumbled into a burglary or, is himself, the burglar.”

The woman laughed behind me, “Ha! They think you robbed your neighbor! Hehehe!” I sat silently. There was no way the police could believe I had broken into the Fitzgerald’s safe… right?

The news report continued. “Darden is the son of high-powered corporate executives John and Carol Darden who believe their son also may have been kidnapped because of their standing in the Chicago business community. If you have information as to the whereabouts of Timothy Darden, please call 1-800-555-8694 or contact your local police department. In other news…” The woman reached over me to turn off the TV.

She draped her arms over me and laughed in my ear. “Do we have any information as to the whereabouts of Timothy Darden?” she asked playfully. I sat motionless, knowing full well she was toying with me. “Should we call up?” She asked again, reaching one hand into her pocket. She took her cell phone out of her pocket and held it in front of my face. “Do you want to dial?” I turned angrily to look at her but she started laughing when she saw my expression. When she finished she gave my chest a few hard slaps. “Oh, too much fun.”

She pulled a stool near my chair again and opened the pizza box on her lap. I suddenly wasn’t as hungry as I was a couple minutes ago, but she only helped herself to a slice. I hung my head. I didn’t want to watch her enjoying either my situation nor the pizza. “Oh cheer up, kiddo,” the woman said as she chewed. “As long as your parents pay me, I’ll give you back to them.” She paused to swallow. “Eventually,” she added, taking another bite.

I looked up at her and she smiled back at me. Just how long was she planning on keeping me?



The woman continued munching on her pizza while I sat there trying to figure out what she was planning for me in the long term. She was sitting on a stool looking down at me. While she chewed she kicked off her slippers and propped her bare feet in my lap. I had been sitting with my head hanging, but I leaned back when she rested her toes only inches from my face. They hadn’t smelled too badly, but I was getting a little frustrated with her teasing and this latest violation of my personal space added to that frustration. She could tell her attempts to toy with me were bothering me.

“Hey, what’s the matter kiddo? You don’t like my feet?” she raised one foot just under my nose. I turned my head away from her. She lifted the foot higher and used it to hook my face, bringing me back in line with her eyes. She grinned and tried to pinch my nose with her toes. Once again I jerked my head away. She started laughing softly. “Aww, poor baby.”

She pushed my head a little bit with her foot. “Are you still angry that I didn’t call the police?” She pushed my head again. “Or are you mad that I stuffed old socks in your mouth?” She lowered her foot an inch to poke my cheek. “Huh?” She pushed my head again, this time a little harder, and I grunted into the gag. “What’s that honey?” I ducked and rolled my head, trying to avoid her. The woman laughed again and lowered her foot back onto my lap. “Oooh, I’m feeling all frisky today,” she said with a grin.

Given most of my experiences with this woman I normally would prefer frisky to abusive. However, at the moment I was still angry because the woman had given no indication of when she planned to let me go. After two days tied up in a chair I was becoming more restless than scared.

The woman finished her slice of pizza and picked up a pair of scissors. She walked behind and cut the tape wrapped around my head. She tore almost the whole gag off in one violent tug. I shouted in pain into the socks still stuffed in my mouth. She covered my mouth with one hand while she pulled off the rest of the tape and dropped it on the floor. She grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled back hard. I grunted again into her hand. She leaned over to make sure she could see my eyes.

“Play time is over,” she said in her soft, commanding voice. “I’ll feed you some pizza, and if you’re a good boy I won’t gag you again with the socks.” She smiled just slightly, “Unless you like them.” I grunted and tried to shake my head, but she yanked on my hair again. “Shhh!” she hissed at me. “Why would I stuff your mouth with socks if I wanted to hear you talk?” she asked, clearly rhetorically. “From now on, no more noise. Blink if you understand.” I blinked once.

She took the socks out of my mouth. The aftertaste of the socks was just as foul as when she had first crammed them in my mouth. I tried not to move my mouth until she offered me the water bottle with the straw. My first sip tasted like the socks. I nearly spit it out, but thought better of it and swallowed hard. After a few more sips my mouth was cleansed. She handfed me three sliced of pizza, the first decent food I had tasted in two days. I wolfed my first slice down quickly but slowed down to savor the next two.

When I finished the woman took out a clean rag and started wiping my mouth of the crumbs and grease of the pizza. Without warning she suddenly started cramming it hard into my mouth. I nearly grunted with discomfort, but managed to release the feelings in a sharp snort. She pushed the rag all the way into my mouth and held it in place with one finger as she moved behind me with the duct tape. When she finished she gave my cheek a few hard pats. “That should keep you quiet for a bit.”

After she gagged me she turned the TV back on. Judge Judy. She collected the socks and the pizza box and left the room without another word.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I didn’t wriggle around too much because I already knew how securely I was tied from this morning. I watched TV for nearly six hours. My kidnapping had made the 6 o’clock news as well. Words cannot describe the sensation of watching your own kidnapping be discussed on television. The police tell reporters that they are looking everywhere for you, and you can’t do anything to let them know where you are. It felt truly maddening, and truly vulnerable.

It wasn’t until 7:00, just after the news, that I heard the keys unlocking the door to the workroom again. This time I chose not to turn my head to see her come in. Then I heard the distinct sound of high heeled shoes clicking on the paved floor of the workroom. I turned to see the woman dressed up again. She was wearing another cocktail dress. This one was silver colored and appeared to be more expensive. She was carrying a small purse in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other.

When she was closer to my chair she stopped. “How do I look?” she asked me, striking a pose. She did look very good, admittedly. Her makeup made her attractive face even more beautiful. It wasn’t caked on, but rather had clearly been applied with care. The dress was a little tight and showed off her athletic body and her considerable breasts. For a brief flickering of a moment, I experienced a sensation I had not had in days…

She smiled brightly, revealing her sparkling white teeth as she continued into the room. “I got a hot date tonight, honey, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to push your dinner and bathroom break until later.” She put her bags down on the work station and reached over to turn off the TV. She turned around and saw what she took for disappointment in my eyes.

“Oh don’t worry, kiddo, I bought some stuff to help you enjoy the night too.” I immediately became suspicious. She reached into the bag and pulled out three brand new rolls of duct tape. My eyes widened… I was wondering how long she was planning on keeping me here, and if the tape was any indication I could be there for months! “We got new tape, to keep that cute little mouth of yours shut,” she said, stacking the rolls of tape. “I bought you your own toothbrush and tooth paste, we’ll use them tomorrow.” She took the items from the bag, followed by a new electric razor. She turned to look at me, “Not sure we’ll need this, but I was in a generous mood.” I had just shaved on Friday night. At fifteen years old I didn’t have a ton of growth.

“And then we have this,” the woman said, pulling out a suspicious looking glass bottle. “Now, I’ve gone out with this guy a couple times,” she said as she took a fresh rag from the drawer. “And I’m not sure how the evening is going to go,” she continued as she poured some of the contents of the bottle onto the rag. “But if we should happen to end up back here,” she said, turning to face me with the rag in her hand, “I can’t risk having you down here to start causing a commotion now can I?”

She wrapped one arm around my neck in a headlock as she stepped behind my chair. She smothered my face with the rag. The sweet smell of the chemicals was enticing for a fraction of a second and my first gasp of air was a deep one. The chloroform filled my lungs and I tried to jerk my head away, but the woman squeezed me tightly and I could barely move my head at all. I tried to hold my breath.

“That won’t work, kiddo,” she said as she gripped the rag on my face a little tighter. “You have to breath sometime.” I only held out maybe ten seconds before I was gasping for air again. I groaned as loudly as a could, but between the gag, her hand, and the rag of chloroform very little noise escaped. “There we go, just breath it in.” The last thing I remembered before I drifted off was the woman’s breath in my ear as she whispered to me, “Sweet dreams…”



I woke up briefly several times, I remembered, but I kept drifting back to sleep. Later I was startled awake by the seemingly blinding lights of the room. I was disoriented and kept my eyes closed shut when a hand gripped my chin and jerked my head upward. My eyes slowly adjusted to the sight of the woman, dressed again in pajamas, towering over me.

“Wake up,” she commanded. My mouth was even dryer than usual and I was extremely lightheaded. My whole body was sore and stiff. I squinted hard as my eyes adjusted to the light. Suddenly there was a sharp pain on my cheek that helped jolt me awake. The woman had torn the band aid off my face that had covered the cut she had given me the night before. I groaned with the stinging pain on my cheek and the soreness throughout my body.

“Come on, wake up,” the woman repeated. She shook one of my shoulders. As I oriented myself she knelt closer to my face. There was a light fragrance of her perfume still in the air. “Is this the first time you’re waking up?” she asked. I tried to remember even when I fell a sleep. It took a couple seconds to recall the woman using chloroform on me to put me out for the night. My thoughts were interrupted by a hard slap on the cheek. The woman roughly grabbed my face again and jerked my head toward her. “Hey, is this the first time you are waking up?” she repeated. For the first time, I think, I instinctively blinked once to signal yes.

The woman smiled, “Wow, that’s some good shit, huh? You were out for almost 12 hours.” I remembered now, she had been worried that her date could have heard me down here and had knocked me out. Maybe the room wasn’t as soundproof as she had told me?

She started untying me from the chair. “We need to hurry this up this morning, kiddo,” the woman said. “I gotta go to work.” As she untied me I realized how badly I needed to use the bathroom again, having only gone once yesterday. I also realized I was soaked in sweat and that the room seemed even hotter than usual. When she was done untying me she grabbed my shirt to pull me up, but let it go immediately. “Ugh, you’re sweating like a pig, huh?” she said, wiping off her hand. “We’ll have to take care of that later too. You’re going to start to smell.” She grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. She only let me stretch for a minute before she started dragging me toward the door.

When we returned to the work room after the trip to her bathroom, woman tied me back to the chair. She added a second coil of rope to bind my arms and chest more securely to the chair and tied the end to a leg of one of the work stations. “I know you haven’t been able to move around too much in the chair,” she explained to me as she tied, “but I want to make extra sure you’re not going anywhere.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s already 7:15,” she said. “Don’t give me any excuses to skip your breakfast,” she warned. She went behind me to remove my gag. “You’re lucky I was able to chase my friend out early this morning,” she said as she started tearing the tape off my face. “I was worried I’d have to leave you down here all day.”

She took the rag out of my mouth and gave me my customary drink of orange juice and spoon fed me a yogurt. I assumed if she was going to work that she wouldn’t be home to feed me lunch, so I decided to take a chance and ask her something. As soon as I finished the yogurt, I cleared my throat. “How much longer are you going to keep me here?” I asked. I hadn’t spoken much for days and my voice was even meeker than I physically felt.

The woman glared at me. She picked up the rag and tape, stood up, and started to move behind me. “Please,” I asked, still sounding pathetic even to my own ears, “just tell me how lonmmpphhh…” the rag being crammed into my mouth cut me off. I tried talking through the gag but I was completely unintelligible.

“It’s none of your business how long I plan on keeping you here,” the woman said coldly. “Your staying here until I decide to let you go, period.” She began wrapping the tape tightly over my mouth. I tried to yell through the gag but I was barely audible. I tried to shake my head but she was holding me in place quite firmly. “Yea, yea, yea, life sucks,” she said, biting off the tape and pressing it tightly against my face. “Your life sucks,” she corrected. She moved in front of me and grabbed a handful of my hair, jerking my head back violently. She grabbed my gagged mouth with her other hand and locked eyes with me. “I have a plan to rob a lot more houses and then leave town, and I’m not going to let a little brat ruin my retirement plans.” She smirked as she leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “But don’t worry, kiddo. As long as you behave yourself, I’ll get you home in time for your next birthday.” She gently kissed my cheek.

The woman then collected her things and walked toward the door. “I’ll be back in a little bit to check on you,” she called. “If you’re sitting quietly I’ll leave the TV on when I leave.” With that she turned off the lights and left the room, locking the door behind her.

I sat there, stunned, trying to process this new bit of information. Obviously she had no intention of releasing me for a while. Did she really expect me to spend weeks in this chair? And then her words echoed in my head, “…home in time for your next birthday.” My birthday wasn’t until February. I couldn’t stay like this for four months?! I wasn’t even sure I’d last a week. I started breathing deeply, my chest heaving visibly beneath the ropes, as I tried to fight off the panic.

I started running through the different scenarios in my head. Maybe the police would find a lead at the Fitzgeralds’ house? Or maybe at one of the other houses the woman was planning to rob? Maybe the woman’s neighbors would get suspicious enough to call the police? That led me to escaping. Maybe she’d make a mistake tying me up and I would get loose? It had happened before. Maybe the room wasn’t all that soundproof? She had knocked me out last night in fear her date would hear me in the workroom. How could I get out of the room even if I got myself untied? The chloroform had to be in the room somewhere, but could I overpower the woman? Maybe I could hit her with something when she came in?

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the shelves sliding outside the door. I lowered my head and closed my eyes, trying to look as weak and cooperative as possible. I did not turn to see the woman enter the room until I heard the high heels clicking as she crossed the room.

She was dressed very professionally in a gray suit with a light blue shirt underneath. The suit was a little too big for her, and it disguised how athletic she was. Her skirt was just below her knees. She was wearing very plain earrings, no superfluous jewelry at all. A pair of black-rimmed glasses rested at the end of her nose. Her hair was pulled back again very tightly. For a second I did not recognize her. She had the appearance of a typical mild-mannered businesswoman.

I sat still while she made sure my bonds were secure and that my gag was tightly sealed. “Hmm, looks like you should be ok here for a while,” she said as she conducted her inspection. “I turned down the heat. I cranked it up last night to help keep you asleep.” When she was satisfied she turned on the TV. She patted me on the head a few times. “Ok kiddo, I’m off. I should be back around 6:00. As long as it looks like you are behaving, I’ll let you stretch out a bit when I come home. Sound good?” I blinked once to show compliance.

I watched as she headed out the door. She turned to look me over once more as she left and saw me watching her leave. She waved mockingly. “Buh-bye honey,” she teased as she flicked off the lights. I waited for the door to be locked and to hear the shelves sliding into place before I turned back to the TV. I was looking at the better part of nine or ten hours alone in the room.

The volume of the television was very low and I had to listen carefully to hear it. My mind was still too busy processing my situation to focus on the TV. I tested the freshly tied ropes on my chest and legs, but as usual they were very solid. I decided to spend some time try to work my gag off. The rag filled my mouth and the tape was wrapped too tightly to have any give at all. I tried flexing my jaw to break the seal but I couldn’t. After maybe a half an hour I accepted that my present situation was hopeless. I would have to bide my time and wait for another opportunity to escape. No one was perfect and I had to hope the woman would make a mistake eventually. I settled in for a long day in front of the TV.




The hours went by with agonizing slowness. Anyone who has watched daytime TV knows that it does not make time go by any faster. I was grateful for it only because it helped me keep track of the time. So shortly after the six o’clock news started I wasn’t surprised to hear the metal shelving unit sliding outside. I waited as the woman opened the door to the workroom and switched on the lights.

“Honey, I’m home,” she called as she entered. She laughed a little as she walked over to my chair. “How cliché? Hahaha.”

I didn’t turn my head to look at her until she was standing next to me. She was carrying two different shopping bags but she put them down where I could not see them. She stood over me, lifting my chin a little higher with one finger. “Did you miss me?” she asked with a smirk. Before I could make any kind of response she said, “I’m going to go change, and then I’ll take you to the bathroom. As long as you behave yourself, I’ll give you something to eat when we’re done. Deal?” I blinked once to signal yes. She turned and left the room.

When she was gone I heard her lock the door and slide the shelves back in place. I had been hoping the woman would slip up at some point, but she was meticulous in covering her tracks and keeping me quiet and secure.

She returned twenty minutes later dressed simply in grey sweatpants and an orange tank top. She had let her hair down and taken off her glasses. She did not come directly to me when she came in. Instead she walked somewhere behind me. I tried to turn to see what she was doing but I couldn’t turn far enough around.

I tried turning my head the other way and was startled to see she was already standing next to me, this woman of cat-like grace. She had a long coil of rope slung over her around her shoulder. She reached over to turn off the TV and started to untie me from the chair, but she paused when she got to my legs. Crouching down in front of me, she glanced up and asked, “Do you have to go to the bathroom badly?” I blinked once. My bladder wasn’t going to explode but I had been in the chair all day and I wanted to take an excursion to the bathroom.

The woman frowned and asked, “On a scale of 1-10, how bad? Like a 6?” What the hell was her problem? Since when did she care about how I felt? I blinked twice for no. “7?” she tried again. A seven was probably closer to what I felt, so I blinked once. “Ok then, lets go,” the woman said, hauling me up to my feet. My ankles were still tied and I shook a little bit when I was on my feet, but I wasn’t up there long.

She made me lie flat on my stomach. Without warning, she grabbed my bound ankles and dragged me across the filthy workroom floor. She pulled me into the storage area outside the workroom and sealed the door. “Come on, get up,” she ordered as she helped me back to my feet. Suddenly I understood what her agenda was as she bent down in front of me and slung me over her shoulder. She had been worried that if I really had to use the bathroom I might not have been able to control myself with my bladder bouncing across her shoulder blade.

She carried me easily up the stairs and into the bathroom. After my usual routine, which was made a little harder by the ropes still tied around my legs, I hopped to the sink to wash my hands. However, instead of turning on the sink, the woman pushed me further into the bathroom, nearly knocking me over. She closed the door and locked it behind her. Turning back to me, she spun me around and bear hugged me from behind. I started to grunt a little out of panic. “Shhh!” she hissed. She lifted me off the ground and lowered me into the bathtub. “Sit down,” she ordered quietly.

Leaning against the tiled wall, I lowered myself into the tub. The woman began untying my shoes, and I cannot describe the relief I felt when she pulled them off my feet after wearing them for four days. “Ugh,” she said, pinching her own nose. “You stink kiddo.” I said nothing. The truth was that, now confined to the small space of the bathroom, I could tell how bad I did smell after four days of sweating into the same clothes and shoes.

The woman removed my socks too. She opened the closet door and took out an empty plastic shopping bag. “You won’t be needing these anymore,” she said as she tossed my shoes and socks into the bag. I groaned loudly in protest, so she reached over and slapped me hard across the face. She grabbed my hair and violently tugged my head back. “Listen, if you make one more sound I’m going to chloroform your ass every time we have to come up here for a toilet break. You understand me?” I blinked once. “That’s a good boy,” she mockingly soothed me as released her grip on my hair. “We wouldn’t want you bothering the neighbors, now would we?”

With that the woman took the coil from over her shoulder and tied one end to my ankles. Then she stood up and tied the other end to the shower head. I had very limited range of movement anyway but I guess she didn’t want to take chances. Without warning she suddenly turned on the water. Naturally it was freezing at first and I bit down hard on the rag stuffed in my mouth to keep from screaming. After a few moments the water warmed up. The woman grabbed a bottle of shampoo and started pouring the soap all over me. I had to close my eyes to keep the soap from running into my eyes as she started scrubbing me with a sponge.

I felt ridiculous at first. I had washed the Fitzgerald’s dog before. I remembered holding him down because he hated the water and scrubbing him with a soapy brush. Now here I was, restrained in a bathtub, while this woman was scrubbing me down. I felt helpless and degraded, like I was a pet.

After a few moments, however, my embarrassment gave way to something else. The warm water and fruity smell of the soap was oddly pleasing, even under the circumstances. I couldn’t open my eyes to see the woman, but I felt her hands running all over me as she lathered me up with soap. She was scrubbing me all over, including my clothes. A memory flashed in my mind of going through a drive-thru car wash as a kid. It wasn’t pleasure exactly that I felt, she was being a little too rough to call it that. I had spent the majority of my captivity in isolation, and for someone, even my captor, to be giving me so much personal attention felt strangely enjoyable.

All of a sudden I felt her breathe against my ear. “Just sit here and be quiet for a minute,” she said to me just loud enough that I could hear her over the shower. “If I hear one sound out of this room, you will regret it.” I couldn’t blink so I nodded as best I could. A moment later I heard her leave the room. I opened my eyes slowly, trying to shake the water away. I tried wriggling around a bit to see if the water was having any effect on the tightness of my ropes. I tried especially hard to work on the ropes around my ankles, hoping that without shoes or socks they’d have some give. They didn’t. I flexed my jaw a few times, hoping the tape at least was coming loose with all the water and soap. It felt like there was some looseness, but I wasn’t sure. After a minute or so I realized there was no point in struggling. I laid my head back against the shower wall and let the shower water beat down on my bound body.

When the woman returned she was carrying two towels. She turned off the water and put the towels down on the sink. After untying my feet from the shower head, she helped me to my feet. She spun me around to grab me from behind again and lifted me out of the tub. Once I was balanced on my feet, she grabbed the towels and roughly dried me. Once again I couldn’t help but think of the Fitzgerald’s dog. I remained still until she was done. She took the rope from the shower head and coiled it up again. With the rope in her hand she lifted me over her shoulder. “Remember kiddo,” she said as she adjusted her grip on me, “not a sound.”

She carried me back down to the storage area and made me sit on one of the steps as she opened the door to the workroom. She hooked both her arms under mine and dragged me into the room. She sat me down in my chair and tied my waist very tightly to the back of the chair with an extra long coil of rope. As she tied me, she told me, “Ok, I’m going to untie your hands for a minute, but I’m going to tie them again in front of you. If you do anything stupid, I’ll hurt you.” I said nothing, my compliance was implied.

She untied my wrists from behind my back but wasted no time in raising both arms over my head and started tying them again. It hurt when she pulled my arms over my head, my muscles were sore from being tied behind me for so long. When she finished I was surprised that she started untying my waist from the chair. I tried flexing my arms a bit, just because I was sore. The woman slapped me hard on the back of my head. “Keep your hands in your lap.” I obeyed and sat silently as she finished untying me.

She moved in front of me, grabbed my bound wrists and hoisted me out of the chair. “Come on,” she pulled me, “Hop.” I hopped with her to about the middle of the room. “Stay,” she ordered. More memories of the dog. She took a length of rope and looped in several times around my wrists in the middle. She left two long ends which she now threw it upward. I looked up to see a thick metal pipe going across the ceiling. She was trying to throw the rope over it, and her plan was now clear to me. After another three tries she final got the rope over the pipe. Pulling hard, the rope lifted my arms above my head. She went behind me and pulled tightly so that my arms were stretched snuggly over my head. She probably could have pulled even tighter, but it still hurt because I was so sore.

After she somehow tied rope in place so that I couldn’t see the knot, let alone reach it, she took two more lengths of rope from where I had been tied to the chair. She proceeded to tie one end of each rope to my ankles and the other end to a leg of the work stations on opposite walls. The effect of this was that I could not lift my legs but an inch or so off the ground.

Once she was finished she stood in front of me, grabbing my gagged mouth and lifting my head up. She seemed to tower over me now that I was barefoot. “I’m going to leave you like this for a while to air out,” she said, looking into my eyes. She released her grip on me and grabbed the scissors to remove my gag. She kept her hand over the rag in my mouth as she peeled the tape off my face. “You’ve been a good boy so far tonight,” she said, tilting my head back just a bit against her so that she could lean over and look at me. “Make sure you keep quiet while I feed you now. Otherwise I might just leave you hanging here and use you as a punching bag.” She held me another moment before taking the rag out.

I didn’t make a sound as fed me a bottle of water and a club sandwich. She took out a clean cloth to wipe my mouth and then started stuffing it into my mouth. She took the tape and wrapped it around my head very tightly, a few more times than usual. When she was done she collected the garbage and headed out the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you,” she said as she opened the door. “Behave yourself,” she called softly as she flicked off the lights and closed the door behind her.

I was left, hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. I was feeling refreshed after my shower and a little stronger after my meal. I tried wriggling around in my new position but every tug I made hurt my already tight muscles. I tried pulling myself up on the rope binding me to the pipe in the ceiling but the ropes anchoring my ankles to the work stations kept me from going only a few inches off the floor. The pipe itself had no feeling or sign of breaking from my weight alone. After maybe ten minutes I just stood there and waited. The truth was that there was nothing else to do…


Note: Unfortunately I don't know whether the story continues, I don't have any additional parts of it.
User avatar
JulieG
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1596
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Tied up and spanked over your knee, or in the dungeon tormenting you!

Post by JulieG »

Wow thanks for finding the story.it reads.really well.
noyoyo
Forum Contributer
Forum Contributer
Posts: 16
Joined: 5 years ago
Location: USA

Post by noyoyo »

Thanks for posting what you found. Obviously its much too long for me to have recreated from scratch.

There were additional installments. I may take a stab at rewriting the story from here, but it won't be the same.
User avatar
Ak610
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 154
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: India

Post by Ak610 »

Anyone has the continuation of this story please post it
User avatar
Glovedgirllover
Forum Contributer
Forum Contributer
Posts: 49
Joined: 4 years ago
Location: Europe
Contact:

Post by Glovedgirllover »

I have longer version of this story... so here is end:

I hadn’t thought it possible, but time actually moved slower while standing in the middle of the dark workroom. When I was tied to the chair I would sometimes nod off, but standing with my hands tied above my head was no position to sleep in. I was still soaked from my shower. My feet were now bare and when I tried to wriggle my ankles I had to do so more gingerly while standing on the slightly jagged concrete floor.
After what seemed like an eternity I heard the metal shelves sliding outside the door. When the woman entered the workroom she was dressed in the same black boots and pants as the night of the burglary, only now she was wearing a black turtleneck too. Her hair was tightly pulled back and her makeup was gone.
She ignored me as she crossed the room and started loading up her black bag. I saw her load some kind of drill and some other tools. She fastened a belt around her waist that included a flashlight, a pouch, and a small knife. I saw her open one of her cabinets and take out the bottle of chloroform and a fresh white rag.
I moaned loudly into my gag, trying to assure her the chloroform was unnecessary.

“Be quiet,” the woman said sternly as she poured the clear liquid onto the rag.

As she started walking toward me I reflexively began to pull on my bonds.

“I know you don’t care for the chloroform, kiddo,” she said as she stepped behind me. “But I’ve got a busy night ahead of me and I can’t afford to come home and find you anywhere but exactly where I leave you.”

With that she smothered my face with the chemical drenched rag. I knew it was pointless to resist, but I couldn’t help but instinctively struggle as the heavy chloroform-filled air entered my lungs. The woman minimized my movements further by wrapping an arm around my torso and holding me close to her as I slowly drifted of…
… As I slowly came awake it took me a few moments to realize what had happened. First thing I noticed, surprisingly, was that it hadn’t all been a bad dream. I was in fact a prisoner in some burglar’s basement. I was surprised because it actually took me a few seconds to realize this. Things come to you more slowly, I suppose, when you are awaking from a chloroform-induced sleep. I was now tied to the chair again, facing the television in the corner. The light behind me seemed a bit dimmer than usual as I tried to focus my eyes.
I wasn’t sure if the woman had moved me to the chair before she left, or if she had already come back from her burglary and then moved me. I didn’t know if she had come back at all. I had no memory at all. It is an extremely disconcerting thing to wake up and not know where you are or how you got there. It is equally frustrating not being able to do anything about it. I had no idea what time it was and I couldn’t move to find out. I closed my eyes, hoping to fall back to sleep, but it was too late. The anxiety I felt about my own helplessness had sort of jolted me awake. I passed the time by picking at the ropes tied around my wrists. I struggled a little bit in the chair but, as usual, my bonds were tight.
I sat alone in the darkness, running through the events of last few days over and over again in my head. If I had only remembered to feed the Fitzgerald’s damned dog I wouldn’t have gone back to their house that night. If I had been able to get to my phone while I was tied up alone in the kitchen. If only I had kicked the woman instead of missing when I made my mad break in the garage when she first took me out of the trunk. Maybe the neighbors would have heard me if I had had more time? Or if I had just waited for the woman to come check on me before I had untied myself the other night when my wrists were tied in front of me. I could have hit her with something when she came in the next morning to feed me. It was useless to speculate, but when you are alone with your thoughts in a chair you can’t help it.
Hours went by, or what seemed like hours. She must have come back earlier, it was morning now. Had to be, she’d been gone too long. For a while, out of boredom and frustration, I struggled hard against the ropes binding me to the chair. I would take frequent breaks to catch my breath, then go at it again. I tried every twist and contortion I was capable of, but nothing worked.
At last the familiar sound of sliding shelves signaled that the woman had returned. I looked anxiously toward the door as she entered. She flicked the lights on as she entered, dressed this morning in a red business suit with a black shirt. She ducked slightly as she entered the room, catching my eye as she closed the door behind her.

“Good morning, kiddo,” she said with inappropriate cheerfulness.

She crossed over to me and immediately began inspecting my restraints. Her hands felt cool and oddly pleasant against my hot skin… she must have cranked the heat up again. I could feel her pulling hard on the knots behind me before she moved in front of me to do the same. She finished by examining the tape over my mouth, pressing down hard on my mouth with one hand and pushing the back of my head into her hand with the other. My eyes widened as she reached for some duct tape and started applying an extra few layers to my gag, but I sat silently. Obviously we wouldn’t be starting with breakfast.
When she finished she put her hands on her hips and looked down at me.

“We’re skipping your breakfast and potty break this morning, because you have been misbehaving,” she said.

I looked up at her questioningly, when was she referring to?

“No?” she asked me.

I shook my head.

“I think you have. A little birdie told me you’ve been squirming around down here all morning.”

I felt myself getting a little queasy. Your eyes must give away a lot of what you feel, because she sensed my sudden fear and started smiling slyly. She walked behind me, wrapped one arm around my neck in a head lock, and rested her chin on my shoulder.

“You want to know who told me you were squirming around down here?” she asked me.

I didn’t answer or even look at her, but I could feel her smile broadening next to me. With her free hand she pointed playfully to the television. At first I couldn’t tell what she meant, but then I saw it on top of the set… a small camera.

“Smile for the birdie,” she laughed softly in my ear.

I sat motionless, my misery and helpless reaching a new low.

“I installed that little camera last night. From now on I’ll be keeping an eye on you all day, even when I’m at work. And I don’t want to catch you wiggling around down here, and I especially don’t want to hear you trying to yell for help.”

The woman squeezed my neck very tightly.

“You understand?”

I blinked once for ‘yes.’

“Good boy,” she cooed, releasing her grip.

She reached over and switched the television on.

“When I come home you can have a bathroom break and something to eat,” she said as she started walking toward the door. “…as long as you behave…” she called back to me as she turned off the lights.

I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead as I listened to her go. I dropped my gaze as I listened to her lock the door behind her. I saw the plastic shopping bag on the floor and it triggered the memory of the day before, when she had come home from work with two bags. I now saw the bag came from some kind of electronics store, but I didn’t recognize the name. I didn’t care. Being tied up and gagged all day was bad enough, but now even my time in isolation was no longer my own. I had no sense of resistance, no sense of movement, and now no sense of privacy. At several points during this kidnapping I thought I knew what complete helplessness felt like. Now I knew for certain.

Four weeks. For an entire month, I was held captive in the woman’s basement. She fed me at least twice everyday, usually three times but only when it didn‘t interfere with her schedule. The diet usually consisted of a yogurt or two a day, and then a sandwich or pizza at night. Orange juice in the morning, water the rest of the time. Two bathroom breaks each day. One shower a week, maybe two.
I hadn’t uttered a spoken word in all that time. Well, I’d managed to get off half a question about my ransom situation after a week, but she gagged me mid-sentence and skipped two meals, so I never bothered again. Every few nights she would go out and burglarize someone, coming back in the middle of the night. She rarely chloroformed me anymore, unless she was planning to have company over.
For my own part I had given up any and all resistance. Between my perpetual bindings, the rag taped into my mouth 23 hours a day, and the camera aimed at me every moment the woman was not in the room with me, I had resigned myself to being a prisoner. The television, which the woman left on more frequently as I became more and more submissive, was my only link to the world. It helped me pass the hours and keep track of the days. I was never mentioned on the news again, much to the woman’s relief. I reran her words to me that day, 'to get me home by my birthday', at least five times every hour. While I had accepted my situation, another few months tied to this chair seemed unbearable.
One morning, a Saturday, I think, because she went to work Monday-Friday, the woman came down to the basement with a newspaper. She turned my chair around and used some tape to secure the paper to my chest. She snapped a few pictures of me and then took the paper away.

“Good news, kiddo,” she told me as she removed my gag for breakfast. “Another day or two and you’ll be home with mom and dad again.”

I had to try hard to stifle my excitement. I couldn’t help but smile a bit in relief that I might soon be freed. The woman noticed the smile as she held out my orange juice and straw.

“Well, don’t look too happy,” she smirked.

Her smile was not menacing though… oddly enough this was the first semi-amicable moment the two of us had had since she had taken me from the Fitzgerald’s house. It wasn’t friendly, by any means, but the look in her eyes didn’t have the same sharp edge they usually had when she was speaking to me.
She gagged me again after I ate and led me to the bathroom. When we returned to the workroom she retied me, still very tightly, to the chair. No chances, I thought to myself. She left with the camera. The woman stayed gone for a long time, nearly the whole day. I might have gone mad with anxiousness if not for the television which at least helped me keep track of the time. When she came back she was moving and speaking quickly.

“Ok, kiddo, we got to hurry up and get you to the drop off and then I need to get back here and finish packing,” she said as she came over and started untying me from the chair.

A combination of hunger, dehydration, and great relief flooded my body and made me feel light as a feather. She hoisted me out of the chair, but rather than letting me stretch a moment, as usual, she immediately started dragging me toward the door.
For the first time since my failed escape attempt the night I was taken, She brought me into the garage. This time the car was backed in and the trunk was open and waiting. I had been hoping to be spared another trunk ride, but I felt such relief at being freed that it was a passing disappointment. I really can’t describe just how relieved I was that this ordeal was coming to an end. She tossed me somewhat roughly into the trunk and grabbed some rope to tie me in a loose hogtie.

“You’ve been real cooperative and all, Timmy,” she said as she tied me, “but you’re going to be in here for a while and I don’t want anyone finding you until I’m long gone.”

I tried mumbling a bit, hoping to get her to expand on “for a while.” Instead she shushed me.

“Don’t start causing problems now. Just sit back, keep quiet, and enjoy the ride.”

She blew me a kiss and slammed the trunk down hard, plunging me into complete darkness.
After a few minutes she started the car and we were off. I could tell she was driving slowly, I could hear other cars moving past us. Obviously she didn’t want to risk being pulled over with me in the trunk. I kept nodding off, the combination of the hum of the car, complete darkness, and mild dehydration consuming my senses. To say nothing of boredom. Every once in a while she would step on the breaks or turn suddenly and the action of the car shook me awake.
I’m not sure how long we drove, but it was a long time. I had tried keeping count in my head in any way I could so that I could give the police a rough estimation of how far away her house was, but it was hopeless. After a while we were making more stops and turns, so I assumed we were in a town or something. Approaching the end. I kept hearing engine roars, but I couldn’t make out exactly where they were coming from outside. Could it be separate cars or was someone following us? We stopped again and I heard the distant sound of the woman’s voice speaking to someone. After a moment we continued, very slowly. Within another few minutes, the car came to a final stop and the engine was shut off.
I waited for the trunk to open, and as I did I heard that engine screech again. It was something familiar but I couldn’t quite place it…
My thought was broken when the trunk suddenly popped open… and behind the woman I saw an airplane flying very low to the ground. In an instant I knew where I was.

“Comfortable ride, Timmy?” the woman asked as she inspected the ropes securing me. She leaned into the trunk and spoke in a low voice. “We’re in the airport parking lot. I left a car here that I’m going to take back to my house. You’ll be staying here until tomorrow or so…”

I started moaning… a day tied up in the trunk of a car? In late November? The woman reached into her purse and pulled out a white rag.

“Yea, tough break. But hey, in 48 hours the police or your parents will find you and then you can go back to that nice big home of yours.”

She leaned in so her face was on top of mine.

“This will help the time go by faster. See you around, kiddo.”

With that she covered my nose and gagged mouth with the chloroform drenched rag. I tried to hold my breath, but she wasn’t falling for any such tricks. The last thing I could remember, before hearing the police banging on the trunk, telling me they were going to get me out, were the woman’s big dark eyes staring into mine and the shrieking engine of another airplane flying overhead…
THE END
User avatar
Glovedgirllover
Forum Contributer
Forum Contributer
Posts: 49
Joined: 4 years ago
Location: Europe
Contact:

Post by Glovedgirllover »

And sure I'm very thankful to author for that really nice story!
User avatar
BandG
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 189
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by BandG »

One of the best stories I remember! Loved it at the time, thank you for posting this again.
Post Reply Previous topicNext topic