My Sweet PrisonerbyJumpinjetta©
Chapter 1 - My Former Life
They say you can have anything in life if you want it bad enough and work hard enough to get it. I don't know if this holds true all of the time, but I do know it worked with Ashley, and it sure took a whole lot of hard work and planning.
Even now, as I look at her in the monitor, walking back to her "room", I find it hard to believe that it's actually happening, that I actually followed through and carried out my plans. How could I go from a happily married man, expecting his first child with a woman he dearly loved, to a kidnapper, and shortly a sex offender in just under two years?
I always thought myself a moral man, but here I was eagerly awaiting the next step to my grand "plan", ready to take full advantage of a young girl, almost ten years younger that I, barely 19, and honestly felt no regret, in fact felt nothing but anticipation. If true evil is knowingly doing wrong, and feeling no regret, then I truly had become the definition of evil.
Top understand my position, how I got "here" (a beautiful teenager captive in my basement) from "there" (a happily married family man), I have to explain what I refer to as my "former life" and how an obsession and a seemingly impossible plan shaped the last 6 months of my life.
When I met Mary in college, I knew I found the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and I fell in love with her within the first few dates. Mary was the most genuine, sweet girl I had ever met, and had everything a man could look for in a girlfriend, wife, mother, or simply as a friend. I never thought there was anyone in the world with whom I could feel so at ease, someone who I never felt I had to impress or "filter" myself with. In short she was the perfect girl.
My friends used to joke that it was her money that I was so attracted to (her father was actually the inventor of the copier collator), but I knew they were thrilled that I found such a perfect match.
We had a wonderful (and ridiculously expensive) wedding by the vineyards in Napa Valley, then honeymooned for a month in Maui. I can't say I felt a whole lot of warmth towards my in-laws (perhaps I had a bit of a complex, as a graphic artist I wondered if they looked down on me, knowing I would never come close to the wealth they had), but I shared in my wife's devastation when they died in a plane crash while touring the Greek Isles just months after our wedding.
The following years were tough for Mary, but she threw herself into her budding career at a law firm specializing in the protection of minority rights. I found my business (started with the help of some quite good referrals by my late father-in-law) flourishing, designing branding and logos for some very lucrative clients.
When Mary got pregnant with a little girl (which we would name "Sara" after her mother), it seemed that we had gotten over the tragedy of her parents' passing, and were ready to start the next chapter in our lives.
Then came the complications.
Within 2 weeks from that first night when Mary called me into the bathroom to tell me "something was wrong", my wife and unborn child were gone.
I think a part of me died that day as well.
Never the most social sort, I slowly withdrew from my previous life. I stopped returning calls from my friends, tiring of their never-ending attempts to "get me through" this tough time. My parents were insufferable, I dreaded each time they called, wanted to visit, or insisted that I "come home" for a while. I was thankful they lived so far away, and that I had no siblings to team up with them in their harassment.
And although I now had inherited more money than I knew what to do with, the only facet of my life I kept at was my Graphic Art company; my clients oblivious to my circumstance, and thus allowing me to forget about my tragedies.
It was a little over a year later, visiting one of these clients in the City, when I saw a beautiful girl walking into a coffee shop. Once again my life took a drastic turn when I followed her in, and sat down across the room.
Chapter 2 - Discovery
I think it was the white bow in her hair that caught my eye, who wears bows in their hair these days? She was certainly a cute one, about 5' 4" or so, wavy strawberry blond hair tied up in back, cute figure dressed in a jeans and a t-shirt. And for some reason I decided to go into that coffee shop behind her, perhaps to get a better look.
She ordered an herbal tea and sat down on a couch in the corner. Hiking her legs underneath, she pulled out a laptop from her book bag and started typing. I sat down across the shop, pulled out my computer, and pretended to surf the web as I watched her.
She had dark blue eyes, a little upturned nose, and perhaps the slightest blush of freckles on her cheeks. She had an athletic build, with toned arms and a slim waist, and I wondered if she was or ever had been a cheerleader or gymnast. The more I watched her, the more I realized just how attractive this girl was. I found myself waiting for her to get up, just so I could get a better look at her body, examine this little specimen a bit closer.
Twenty minutes later she checked her cell phone, packed away her computer and walked out the door. I quickly followed, and fell in step behind her as she walked up the busy street.
I knew how silly it was, a grown man following a young girl like this and even felt a little embarrassment at the familiar feel of the erection forming in my pants as I stared at this perfect "ass" in front of me. The word "pert" popped into my head. Who described an ass as "pert"? She did have just the most perfect little body, and I couldn't stop staring at her butt, wondering what kind of panties she was wearing, what it be like to cup one of those perfect cheeks as she walked.
When she turned into the building, I stopped suddenly, finding myself in front of one of the City College's buildings surrounded by a throng of students in black dress, with tattoos and piercings, smoking cigarettes and complaining about parents and professors. I wistfully looked through the glass door one more time before turning around and walking away.
Chapter 3 - Obsession
Although I hadn't dated since the death of my wife, and honestly hadn't felt any desire for female companionship at all, I had utilized my share of pornographic material over the past year. So it was no surprise when, as I laid down to sleep that night, I fantasized about that "unknown" beauty I had seen.
What was unexpected however was that afterwards I felt none of the remorse or guilt I normally feel after masturbating. I had barely cleaned myself up when I came to the decision that I would go back to that coffee shop the next day, just to see if I could get another look at the girl. And this time, perhaps I'd bring my camera . .. .
My life quickly became centered around the girl I soon learned was Ashley Watson, a 19 year old student majoring in finance at the local college. I learned how the train dropped her off 40 minutes before her class each morning, and how she spent this time in the same coffee shop, generally at the same seat. I took the train and followed her home, found where she lived in a modest suburban home with her parents.
I looked forward to seeing what she would wear each day, thrilled when I woke to a bright warm day in anticipation of the knee length skirts she would wear, the glimpses of her toned legs, and if lucky perhaps a look at her slender thighs as she sat with her computer, or reading a book at the coffee shop.
I also started to become aware of other men, and their lingering looks at Ashley, watching her bottom as she walked, turning their heads as she passed. They were so clear in their intentions, their gawking, and I hoped I was not so obvious in my appreciation.
There was no doubt "Jimmy", who worked the counter on Mondays and Fridays had a crush on her, how he always tried making small talk with her as she ordered her daily tea.
But what I found so peculiar about Ashley, was how she seemed so unaware of all the attention she was getting. Always friendly, always polite, I don't think it even occurred to her that Jimmy was coming on to her.
My greatest source of information about Ashley was the result of a small wireless camera I purchased and set up, hidden amongst the plants behind her usual place at the coffee shop. This is how I captured her email address and password.
And so I learned of her one close friend Ellen who was taking a year abroad in France. I learned that her father worked for Exxon and was frequently away visiting oil refineries. How close she was with her mother, and a few vague references to an ex boyfriend named Ken.
Most of Ashley's correspondences with her friend were about Ellen's experiences in France, the boys she was meeting, her host family. Ashley's updates were simply about how school was going, her parents, and how much she missed her friend and would be happy when she returned the following year.
When I read the email Ashley sent one day, describing how her parents were going to turn a business trip of her father's into a vacation for the two of them, the beginnings of my "plan" started to form. This vacation was overlapping her spring break, but she would not be back in time for her classes so she would be staying home.
She went on saying how great it would be if Ellen were in town, and Ellen replied how wonderful it would be if Ashley visited her in France, but ultimately it would just be Ashley at home by herself.
Of course the thought of her alone in that house set off a number of ideas in my obsessed mind. I had visions of going to her at night, breaking in, drugging her, having my way with her. Making love to her, tying her down, making her cry out as she orgasmed time and time again!
I didn't know where these thoughts were coming from, but whatever their origin, I could not keep them out. I needed her. I needed to have her. And I would do what it took to get her.
Chapter 4 - The Plan
I had almost 4 months before her parents left (and her school went on break), and I knew it would take all of that time to carry out the plan I had come up with. Almost ridiculously complex, I was now as obsessed with carrying out my vision as I had been with Ashley for the past few months. I started the new construction in my house.
I would take her, that I knew, but I would not keep her in her home. I would take her to my house. The house I shared my former life with my late wife, however, I was now beyond all thoughts of her. But in order to carry out my plan, I had a lot that needed to be done. And in hiring contractor after contractor, working one little bit at a time, I completed my new "habitat" for Ashley.
There was a large rectangular room (30'x 20', concrete walls, carpeted) with three heavy metal doors. Two doors on the opposite short walls with small opaque windows, and one windowless door in the middle of one of the long walls. Above the two side doors, a little light was installed visible on both sides of the door, and above the third door, near the ceiling was a small dark 3 inch square window. On the bare wall across from the door and window, there were two slits about four feet off the ground, from which hung two 1/4" cables, each with wrist restraints on the ends. The mechanisms behind the wall and in the restraints were perhaps the most challenging of all of my projects. The room had no light source save for a few recessed ceiling lights.
Each of the side doors (the opening and closing which could be operated remotely), let to an 8 x 10 foot room with a bed, desk, chair, dresser and bookshelf, all bolted to the ground. At the far end of each room was a plain door which led to a small bathroom, complete with a shower, toilet and sink. Next to the bed there was a slot on the floor about 16 inches wide and three inches high. There were light switches in both the bedroom and bathroom, both of which could be remotely controlled.
It had cost a fortune, a fortune in my in-law's money to build this so fast and discreetly, to wire it just right without raising any suspicions (or so I hoped) as to what was its purpose. But it was ready, with weeks to spare. Ready for Ashley to move in. The only thing left for me was to plan my departure. I would only have her for two weeks, then I would leave her, unhurt, and have nothing but the memories of those two weeks and any video, pictures, or other mementos I may gather to remind me of her.
Chapter 5 - Capture
The night after her parents left for their trip/vacation to Tampico Mexico, I loaded up the minivan I rented and headed over to the Watson residence to retrieve the "package". I pulled over a house down from hers around 11:00, turned off the ignition, and watched her house. On the second floor I could see the flickering of a television in the far window, the window of Ashley's room (I had figured that out long ago).
At 11:43 the light went out, and I could feel myself getting instantly erect. There were many nights I sat out here, knowing my sweet Ashley lay sleeping so close by. I would wonder if she wore pajamas to sleep, or perhaps just a t-shirt and panties. I would fantasize that even as I sat there, Ashley would be quietly masturbating, stifling her moans of pleasure as she climaxed, afraid her parents might hear. I tried to imagine how her lovely face would look as she orgasmed, and wonder at the possibility of installing a camera outside her window.
But it was different tonight. I would know what she slept in. And I would soon see that beautiful face, that sweet, innocent, wonderful Ashley as she allowed the pleasure of her body bring her to glorious climax.
I waited there until after 2:00 to be sure she was asleep before I drove the minivan up their driveway to the side door. I quickly slipped out of the van and went right for the third flowerpot on the right side of the door. Months ago I saw Mrs. Watson take the spare key from under the pot, opting to leave her keys in her car, to run in and get something she must have forgotten inside. I wondered how she would now feel if she knew the trouble she had saved me.
It's funny how differently that night went to what I expected. I wondered if I'd have the restraint to keep from ravaging her the first time I touched her, not being able to resist fondling her in her bed, undressing her. But I was honestly so frightened about what I was doing, I could barely breath, let alone think of anything other than getting that chloroform rag over her face.
After that I scrambled, filling the bags I brought with the clothes from her dresser, then almost every item from her bathroom, and finally her bookshelves. I took a few trips to the van, filling it with anything I thought she might need for her little vacation. It wasn't until I had returned to the minivan with Ashley (her room almost bare) and placed her gently in the back amongst bags of her clothes that I even noticed what she was wearing (an oversized t-shirt and gray sweatpants).
The rest of the night was a blur. Getting home, administering more chloroform, quickly filling the dresser in one of the rooms with her clothes. The one moment I did pause and realize exactly what I was doing was when I filled that top drawer with her undergarments. My first exertion of control over her was her clothes, and I made sure to only give her items I wanted her to wear, and the most important of these were her panties. I only allowed her 7 pair, all plain cotton, no thongs. Two all white, a pale yellow, pale blue, pink, green and white striped, and one white pair with a heart and the words "Little Girl" across the front in red. As I placed these in the drawer, I stopped for a moment, bringing the yellow pair to my face and inhaling the wonderful smell of that precious garment.
Knowing there'd be plenty of time for this later, I quickly placed it down and finished filling her drawers (with a heavy emphasis on skirts and blouses), and loaded the shelves and desks with her other belongings. I checked three times that I had her cell phone safely turned off and in my pocket. Finally I placed an envelope labeled "ASHLEY WATSON" on the floor by the slot, turned on the small desk lamp I brought from her house, and turned off the lights.
Once her room was all set, I put the last piece of the room in place. I laid her down gently on the bed, quickly left (and locked) both her room and the main chamber, and collapsed in the chair in my "control" room. I let out a huge sigh.
I couldn't help feeling that I missed out on something. For the first time I had touched her, I picked her up, I carried her, and I couldn't remember even looking at her face, couldn't remember what she . . . felt like! But tonight was about getting her here successfully. There would be time enough for more in the days to come.
Chapter 6 - Training
From the wide angle camera in the corner of her room, I watched Ashley as she awakened and groggily sat up in bed. She brought her hand to her head with a pained look on her face and slowly looked around. I could see the first signs of her panic as her head started darting about, taking in the small closed room she now occupied.
She scrambled out of bed and immediately went for the door, vainly peering at the small opaque window, then dejectedly looking around as she found the door to be securely locked. She then more closely examined the room, recognizing her books and her computer. It wasn't until she came out of the bathroom with a puzzled and slightly less panicked look on her face that she noticed the labeled envelope on the floor. Looking around one last time, she sat down on the bed, pulled out the paper within and began reading.
YOUR DETENTION AT THIS FACILITY HAS BEEN DEEMED A NECESSARY COMPONENT TO MY ASSOCIATE'S GOALS. YOU MAY BE ASSURED THAT NO HARM WILL COME TO YOU WHILE YOU ARE HERE, AND YOUR STAY WILL BE NO LESS THAN 10 DAYS, AND NO MORE THAN 3 WEEKS. EVERYTHING WILL BE DONE TO INSURE THAT YOUR NEEDS WILL BE TAKEN CARE OF.
AS YOU CAN SEE, YOUR ROOM HAS BEEN FURNISHED WITH YOUR BELONGINGS TO HELP OCCUPY YOUR TIME WHILE YOU ARE HERE. YOUR COMPUTER'S WIRELESS CONNECTIVITY HAS BEEN PERMANANTY DISABLED AND YOU WILL NOT FIND YOUR CELL PHONE.
YOU WILL BE RESTRICTED TO THIS ROOM AND YOUR BATHROOM FOR LARGE PARTS OF THE DAY. ALTHOUGH THERE WILL BE MONITORING IN THE BED ROOM, YOU HAVE COMPLETE PRIVACY IN THE BATHROOM. SEVERAL TIMES A DAY THIS DOOR WILL AUTOMATICALLY OPEN AND YOU WILL BE ALLOWED, AND AT TIMES REQUIRED TO GO INTO THE ADJOINING ROOM.
IT IS ESSENTIAL THAT YOUR FATHER KNOW THAT YOU ARE BEING DETAINED AND THAT YOU ARE IN GOOD HEALTH. THEREFORE YOU WILL BE VIDEOTAPED IN THIS OUTER ROOM DAILY TO PROVIDE PROOF OF YOUR HEALTH AND CONTAINMENT.
YOU WILL RECEIVE FURTHER COMMUNICATIONS, FOOD AND WATER THROUGH THE SLOT NEXT TO YOUR BED. YOU MAY ALSO PLACE ANY CLOTHING FOR LAUNDERING OR DISPOSE OF ANY GARBAGE BY RETURNING IT THROUGH THIS SLOT.
PLEASE BE ASSURED THAT YOUR WELL BEING IS PARAMOUNT, AND ALL WILL BE DONE TO MAKE YOUR STAY AS COMFORTABLE AS POSSIBLE UNDER THESE UNIQUE CIRCUMSTANCES. YOU WILL BE CONTACTED AGAIN LATER IN THE DAY
I saw her read the letter carefully, looking up only once, surveying the room until looking straight at the small lens recessed in the corner over her bed. With trembling hands she put the sheet of paper back into the envelope and placed it on the foot of the bed. Slowly she climbed back under the covers and turned to the wall, leaving me staring at her back.
I heard the muffled sound of her sobs and saw her shaking back as she cried. I turned off the monitor and walked out of the control room and up the stairs. Satisfied that everything was going according to plan so far, I decided to take a quick nap (it had been a long night) before the next phase of the operation.