Abduction of Ginger_Stormm Ch. 01

Part One: Ginger_Stormm

The mid-winter sun was starting to dim as Nicole settled into her comfortable chair in her flat and powered up the computer. A notification flashed up on her screen: "Live Stream Commencing."

She was going to work. But unlike the drab, brown business suits worn by the office workers in this eastern European city, Nicole chose allure for her workplace attire. Today, it was a tight-fitting blue dress that left just enough to the imagination. Her outfit accentuated her sleek curves and would certainly have turned all the heads if she wore it to the dance club. But today, the heads that were turning for her were in Seoul and New York and Barcelona and maybe dozens of other places.

Nicole's virtual job wasn't typical. She was a performer on an adult streaming service.

An outside observer might have imagined the opportunity to earn some money while performing in front of a camera was not a difficult gig, but Nicole worked hard for her pay and kept her audience enticed while playfully teasing them with her routine. She was constantly engaging her fans, finding creative ways to make them feel welcome in her virtual space. The money wasn't bad (on the good days). She also liked the attention she received from her audience. It turned her on to know men were turned on by her.

Although somewhat shy, Nicole knew she had appealing attributes. She had a natural beauty: She'd been told that many times. Her porcelain skin was flawless. Her lips were luscious and inviting, and her figure was stunning. Yet it was her bewitching eyes that often drove men and women into a frenzy. Deep blue pools of affection that were oh so sensuous - encouraging those with the courage to do so, to enter her domain. If he were around today, the author, Dostoyevsky could have written epics about her beauty.

Nicole was known as Ginger_Stormm to her virtual audience, an apt nom de plume for a chestnut-haired beauty. The name also brought to mind a tempest that might sweep men off their feet and into the abyss if they weren't careful.

As the first few weeks went by, she became more comfortable with the idea of performing in front of the camera, particularly in private showings. She would strategically remove articles of clothing, dance and seduce her anonymous audience. She would put on a show that would get the hearts of her viewers racing. Sometimes it was with a glass of water dribbled down a white top to reveal her beautiful breasts and cold, excited nipples that were yearning to be warmed by a soft kiss. Other times she would flash her perfectly-shaped bum and then give herself a spanking to the delight of those watching. She would imagine the reaction of men watching her, wanting to be with her, getting hard for her, exploding in desire for her. She liked it. She embraced the thought of being lusted after by anonymous viewers who could be anywhere in the world but were choosing to watch her erotic performance in real-time.

Nicole's specialty was building men's appetites through simple, but oh-so-effective seductions. Her smile was mesmerizing and she would sometimes focus the camera close-up on her glossy, full lips and then slowly roll her thumb across them in a teasing, sexy motion that would melt the defences and intensify the desires of any who watched her. If they could, her admirers would come crashing through their computer screens to embrace those lips, meet her tongue with theirs in an explosion of sensation. But unfortunately for them, the virtual world would not allow such closeness. In this world, it was 'watch', but not 'touch' (or so Nicole thought).

Nicole knew exactly how much to reveal to encourage her audience to come back for more.

On the downside, sometimes her seven-hour shifts, a few days a week, ended up being a little less erotic and a little more mundane than she initially imagined -- her performances were truncated by periods of boredom. Other times, her audience took too many liberties or even spoke cruelly. Login names like BigCock666 or PussyDude would pop up on her screen and demand she perform certain activities that seemed less about eroticism and more about control. Sometimes she obliged. Most of the time she did not. She had guidelines and limits and knew she needed to control her own story. Men were playing her game, not the other way around.

On many days Nicole's audience numbered several hundred. Her online fans consisted of a combination of young horny teenagers, who would watch but often didn't have enough money to tip, or maybe older, lonely men who might tip well, but felt they were entitled to say and demand anything they wanted.

Then one morning, a new name popped up: "Rasputin has tipped you 50 tokens" came the notification on her screen.

Nicole cutely typed 'thanky' to her new supporter as she blew him a kiss. He began messaging how much he enjoyed her show and how lovely she appeared.

Rasputin? The name seemed familiar. Nicole remembered her history class: That libidinous Russian monk and mystic who so riled up the population and helped precipitate the October Revolution.

Over the next several days Rasputin would pop into Nicole's live stream and they'd chat. His presence and attention to her were enchanting and she became curious about this mysterious figure, who seemed so drawn to her.

Rasputin would tell Nicole how much he'd enjoy her show. He would describe his desire to give her gentle kisses in all the places that would make her shiver: Her neck, her shoulder, her ear. His stories about the two of them would culminate in imaginary but lustful ravaging. He would describe in every detail how he would like to be with her, passionately, intimately and completely. Nicole and her admirer were creative with one another and that eroticism became a strong connection between the two.

Then one day, as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone. A week, then two went by and Rasputin's username didn't appear on her screen. Nicole found herself missing his company and the stories he would tell her.

After a while, she had almost forgotten about him.

Then one afternoon, he appeared on her page again with a short message: "Nicole, I'm in the City. Meet me at the Grand Hotel, Room 353 after your shift. I need your help".

That was it. He logged off.

Nicole was stunned. What kind of trouble was he in? How could she possibly go to meet a stranger she only knew online? She was distracted for the rest of her shift, but by the time her live stream ended, she had decided to meet him...

She took public transit to the hotel and felt herself getting excited at the prospect of meeting the elusive Rasputin. She arrived in the lobby and took the elevator up to the third floor. She checked that her mobile phone was easy to reach in case this turned out badly.

She arrived at the room and nervously knocked.

She heard a voice, in English, inviting her in. She opened the door.

The room was dark and she saw what appeared to be a silhouetted figure sitting in an armchair on the opposite side of the room.

"Come in Nicole, join me, don't be afraid," he said.

As she began to cautiously walk inside, she sensed somebody quickly come up behind her. A figure must have been hiding in the shadows! A cloth suddenly covered her mouth. She breathed quickly and tried to scream. She could smell a strange odour...was it chloroform? It was no use. She felt light-headed, her legs became heavy and she fell, unconscious.

Part Two: The Professor

Nicole woke up in a daze. She was no longer in the hotel room.

As she looked around, the surroundings appeared to be a strange medical facility. The casual clothes she had been wearing at the hotel were gone. She now wore a tight-fitting short orange outfit.

She heard a door unlock and through the only entrance to the room came a figure in a white lab coat. He appeared to be in his 40s, was tall and fit, with a slightly greying beard, but something about his presence made her nervous.

"Hello Nicole," came the voice in proper English. "I'm so sorry for the deception, but it was necessary to ensure your compliance."

"Who are you? What do you want?" screamed a furious Nicole.

"You may call me Professor. And again, I apologize for bringing you here against your will," said the shadowy figure.

"My friends know where I am, the police will be here soon," a nervous Nicole imparted.

"Oh, I'm afraid your geo-tracking functions on your mobile phone have been disabled. We are quite safe from detection in this facility," the Professor said. "We're in an old cold war-era bunker that has been in disuse for twenty years."

Nicole suddenly became aware that her hands and ankles were tied to the bed and she became even more anxious about her situation.

"You see Nicole," the Professor continued, "We have been monitoring your online activity and you have a unique blend of physical beauty, intense sexual appetite, intelligence, charisma and creativity that we require to complete our work."

"What?" howled Nicole..."you've been stalking me?"

"Stalking has such sinister overtones," said the Professor, "I prefer to think of our research as an opportunity for you to enhance your already extensive sexual interests and for us to develop a product that will revolutionize the adult entertainment industry. Let's think of this as a partnership."

"Let me go, NOW!" demanded Nicole.

She noticed for the first time the Professor was holding something akin to virtual reality goggles in his right hand.

"Oh I can promise you, Nicole, in a short time, not only will you not want to leave, you'll be begging to stay."

The Professor continued. "You see, several months ago, I launched a new artificial intelligence program, to seek out only the most sexually creative women working as performers on adult sites, to create unique virtual sexual experiences for customers. My program, called RASPUTIN, interacted with you and found you fit all of our criteria to complete the project. This device I hold here will monitor your brain waves and determine your deepest sexual desires. We will then use that information to model a program to create a series of virtual AI companions to meet the needs of the adult entertainment industry."

"I don't believe it! Rasputin IS a real man...he wasn't a computer program!" Shouted Nicole. "I won't participate in your experiment!"

The Professor scowled, "Rasputin was based on somebody real, but don't be too concerned, this virtual reality program will provide as much realism as you could possibly imagine. For the next several days, we'll explore your deepest sexual needs... needs you may not even be aware of yourself."

The Professor continued, "The process is physically painless... well mostly," he corrected himself, "But this experience will leave you in a state of significant sexual arousal. We have therefore enabled some devices in this room to help you satiate your desires between sessions -if you so wish?"

"You can't do this," pleaded Nicole.

"All I ask is that you don't hold back," said the Professor. "Let those desires flow. When we are done, and if you have behaved, we will return you to that hotel room and it will be as if though this was all a dream."