Call In For Sexual Slavery (TBC)

She wondered about starting something with Douglas, her boss. It was the only accessible thing exciting enough for her. Maybe they would fuck in his office, on his desk? Maybe she would be under it sucking him off while he held a webcam meeting. She would be naked in the office, and he would spank and slap her and tell her she only had the job because she fucked him like a whore. Then she remembered that it was Douglas she was thinking about, a bloat of a man in his 60s with male pattern baldness and a heart condition.

Alice had seen the men in the BDSM sites; so many of them unattractive and unappealing, but still there they all were, with total control of their adoring beautiful women. She acknowledged that there was a certain thrill in being dominated by such unpleasant and ugly men, to be degraded completely by them, but she couldn't get past her thoughts of the Adonis she had witnessed. She stopped typing and sighed. She knew she couldn't go on like this, she needed to do something, but she didn't know what. She couldn't just pant like a bitch in heat forever. She was still young, still attractive, able to pull men like Gabriel at least. She needed to take action and it needed to happen soon. This existence was intolerable.

She left work quietly exactly at 5. It wasn't like her to leave so immediately, but she desperately needed to cum. She fingered herself in the car, brought herself to climax, and wiped herself off with her panties and drove home commando.

She felt frazzled. On the edge of something again. She thought about how women throughout women had been described as hysterical when really their husbands didn't satisfy them. She had thought about hooking up with random guys, but she knew it wouldn't address her needs. What she needed to do was drastic, total. A complete change.

Alice opened her laptop and searched online for kinky content. But there was a purpose beyond just masturbation. This time she was searching for something different. Something dramatic. She flicked through forums and scrolled through threads, looking for something shocking, something dangerous. Choking, torture porn, even snuff. Anne Desclos had said that death was the ultimate climax, but Alice wasn't such a hopeless romantic that she would do anything like that. No, she wanted something terrifying, but not permanent. She acknowledged to herself that she was totally addicted, and reminded herself that the acknowledgement was the first step. An irritating voice in the back of her mind said this was the first step towards quitting, but she ignored that. She knew she needed the ultimate high and anything less would destroy her.

Like a stranded wanderer citing an oasis in the desert, Alice's eyes glimpsed a comment in a domination site thread. Dominants were talking about what they liked to do to their partners, and one talked about a service he had paid for his sub. Without her knowing, he'd hired a group of guys to kidnap her from her own apartment. They had chloroformed her, shoved her into the trunk of a car, stripped, shaved, bound and gagged her. Each one had their turn with her, including him, wearing a mask, and a ransom video was made. After a month of torture and confinement, of being treated like a slave and fuck-toy, when she was completely broken and receptive, he took his mask off and revealed to her that it was all a hoax. The commenter said they watched the ransom videos together when fucking, with his sub saying that she had never orgasmed as exquisitely until she had experienced the kidnapping.

Alice figured that this whole story must be bullshit. It was just some story some horny teenager had made up to brag about to the dom crowd, but she couldn't stop thinking about the sub. The poor woman, stolen away from her own home, defiled, destroyed, changed forever. How could she experience something like this?

Alice set up an account on the site (she had only lurked these last few months) and directly messaged the commenter. The thread was two years old, but she figured someone who posted something like that would still be involved on the site somehow. She messaged:

"Hi. We've not spoken before, but a while back you mentioned some kind of service where you got some guys to kidnap your sub. Is this legit? I was wondering about doing something similar to mine. Is there a way to contact these people online?"

An agonising, tedious day at work later, when Alice opened her laptop that night she saw a response,

"It's legit. It doesn't have an internet presence as it's obviously illegal as fuck, but they do have a phone number. You wanting in?"

Alice breathed a small sigh of disappointment. She had hoped to masquerade as her own dom online so it would be less obvious to the "kidnappers" that she was wanting to kidnap herself, but she relented and replied, "Yes."

A couple hours later this time, a message appeared. Alice was eating dinner at this point but jumped to the laptop, almost spilling potato salad all over the floor.

"The number is 412 894 3498. I should warn you it's intense shit. Don't do it unless you know for certain that your sub won't bust your ass to the cops the first chance she gets." Alice looked it up. So the company was based in Pennsylvania, somewhere around Pittsburgh? Thank god. She had worried they'd only be in Vegas or something.

She left it at that with the commenter, then got out her cell. She wondered if she should be using a payphone or something, but she couldn't be sure if the ones near her actually still worked. Whatever, she thought, it's probably all bullshit, so why not?

She dialled the number. She thought it would go straight to the operator telling her the number she called didn't exist, but it started ringing. She shivered with anticipation, licking her lips at every beep. This was so stupid, what was she doing? Why was she doing this? She saw the kidnapped girl flash before her eyes, screaming into her gag and crying her eyes out, and felt a hot flush wash over every muscle.

A voice!

"Hello?" What the fuck could she say?

"Um, hello?"

"Who is this?" It was a man's voice. He sounded grim, tired, like the act of talking caused his teeth to grind,

"I'm um, a prospective client?" That sounded so stupid, but at least it was to the point?

"I'm sorry ma'am have you got the right number?"

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!

"Um, this is the kidnapping service right?"

A pause.

"Yes it is." Alice couldn't believe it! This was real! She squealed internally but kept her cool on the phone.

"This is very unusual, usually it's men who call. It's not really a service that women call. Are you a dominatrix or something?"

"I'm um," she needed to be candid, "I'm a sub. I actually don't have a dom. I'm actually calling to organise the kidnapping experience...for myself."

"For yourself?" The voice seemed genuinely confused, "You know what happens with this right? This isn't some dom with a whip nonsense. It's very intense stuff." He was concerned for her.

"I understand," she replied matter-of-factly, "I know it's not 'real', but I can't find anything else like it."

"Alright," he relented, "and you understand this isn't free, right? It's high risk, so it's very expensive." Alice had been dreading this part, but she was ready to accept any price.

"Yes, what are we asking?"

"Well...considering that there's no dom involved, the risk is higher because there's no one around to make excuses for your disappearance. You might very well make headlines. So...I think we're looking at 50 thousand here." Alice's heart sank. 50 thousand? That was almost everything she had! She didn't respond quickly enough.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this? Because once it's done there's no going back. And I won't accept anything less than 50K. Like I said it's high risk and I need to make sure it's worth it for my guys."

"Yes! I accept!" she heard herself say.

"You're sure."

"Yes. 50 thousand. That's fine."

"Okay..." he seemed to be contemplating, "Again usually how this works is that the dom pays for it so it's not suspicious, but with you the bank is gonna be asking questions, the police will check your records, and whatever phone you're using now." Shit, she knew she should have used a pay-phone.

"Are you using a cell phone?"

"Y-yes," she admitted defeatedly,

"Okay, when it happens we will destroy the phone, sorry. There can't be any bank transfers either so you'll need to take the money out in cash. How you do this is on you. When my guys arrive, they'll need to see the money clearly visible. Otherwise you'll wake up in your bed with no kidnapping, understand?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I hope you understand what you're getting in for. One last time, do you accept these terms."

Again Alice heard herself say, "Yes."

There was some admin, the man on the phone asked her name and address, which she gave, but her mind was already elsewhere. It wasn't that she was frightened, or bemused. She just couldn't shake the feeling that this was really going to change everything. It made her hot, but the thought still freaked her out a little. When she put the phone down, she realised the man hadn't given her a time-frame. They could turn up in the next hour, or in several months. Sick feelings of trepidation shook her, but also turned her on. This was insane, what was she doing, she couldn't do this! Every survival instinct screamed at her but there she was, organising her own kidnapping.

When she went to bed that night, she imagined her face on milk cartons, and drifted fitfully to sleep.

4

The next few weeks were a haze for Alice. Things happened around her at work, but she was never present. People spoke to her but she was on another planet, drifting in the vacuum. Every other day she took out several hundred dollars from her savings account. She ignored the terror in her head that these were her savings she was destroying. As the weeks went by the pile of money grew on her kitchen table, like something out of a heist movie. She made sure never to go to the same bank, even travelling out of the state to take money out. Anything to avoid suspicion. She thought about selling her car, but figured that would be too inconvenient, so she sold her jewellery, then her clothes, and finally her furniture instead. Her apartment became sparser, the wardrobe containing only the essentials and her living room entirely spartan. She worried that they'd come for her before the money was ready, but slowly and surely the 50 thousand was amassed. Soon her home was empty, save for her bed and kitchen table covered in bank notes. The days drifted on, with Alice sinking further and further away from reality, daydreaming about the day they would come.

She still dressed nicely. She wanted to look good for them, whoever they were. Each day she dressed in her prim grey suit for work, straightened her bob-cut black hair, and wore sweet scents. If anything she made more of an effort on her appearance now than ever. She might have been a recluse, but she made sure to be an attractive one. She wondered if they were watching her, and made for a show for the cameras while out.

If Alice had had close friends or confidants, she might have started questioning the sanity of this situation. There was some doubts in her mind. But as she had cut off almost every one of her New York friends so thoroughly, the only thought she had with increasingly embarrassing persistence was whether she should wear nice underwear or not. It stood to reason that her clothes would be destroyed, but that didn't mean she shouldn't maybe wear nice underwear for the event. It almost became like a date in her mind, and she wanted to look her best. She began to deceive herself about it, imagining that it was actually Gabriel who had orchestrated this all. When she was taken, it would be him. She would recognise his sweet silhouette and melt under his control once again. What was theory became a religion for her. It will be him, and she will be safe and comforted in his total possession as captive.

Alice threw out all of her comfortable cotton underwear, and dressed only in lace and silk.

One night Alice was on a sailing ship. An old wooden ship with large sails. She was dressed in a large dress and corset, her hair raised up with ribbons and wax. She held a little parasol above her powdered face. They were sailing to the West Indies, and she looked out across the rolling hypnotic waves in a trance, feeling the motions of the water rocking back and forth and the soft breeze whistling through her tall fixed hair like a caressing hand.

She delicately turned to speak to the captain but he had vanished! Pirates were jumping on board the ship, waving cutlasses and flintlock pistols! The sailors about her, untrained in combat, were quickly cut down and she was taken prisoner by the leering scurvy brutes. One pirate with golden teeth and arms like an ox grabbed hold of her arms to restrain her, and then his men fell upon her. She attempted to kick at them but the pirates laughed as they tore at her stockings, ripping her pretty dress to shreds and clawing at her corset. She screamed as a matter of course but secretly she enjoyed their attentions. Her long flowing hair fell about her bare shoulders as the pirates tore and groped at her increasingly naked flesh, like they were unwrapping a present. When she was finally free of the tight corset she was laid out exposed for all to see. One pirate forced her head down and dropped his trousers for her to inspect his proud standing shaft. As she began to suck on it another pirate forced up her backside and pressed himself into her. Hands clenched her breasts and pulled her hair. Alice enjoyed the attention. She wanted to be violated, to be treated like fodder for these men, to be used and used again. She was now a beautiful mermaid, and these men were her captors. They would poke her and penetrate her and she would live only for their pleasure. As the pirate came in her mouth she looked up at him,. hoping she had pleased him, but he merely shoved her in front of a large hairy man to pleasure. But instead of offering his penis to her, he grabbed hold of her body and pulled her away from the other men. She screamed at him in disappointment, but he ignored her cries. They came to the edge of the deck, and she begged him not to do what he intended, offering him everything of her, but he ignored her protestations and before another moment passed she was falling, flailing and waving down into the cold black ocean. As Alice hit the water with a climactic crash...

... she woke up in a cold sweat, drenched from head to toe, and looked about her bedroom with relief. What was happening to her? She was haunted with these dreams every night now. She had been a princess imprisoned in a tower one night, a Roman slave in the next. Every dream involved her being captured, stripped and fucked or raped in one dramatic way or another, and she loved every second, right up until some kind of disaster struck, like being fed to the lions in the colosseum, or thrown from the highest tower window. Was it some kind of premonition? Or merely doubts in her mind for what she intended? Despite her insecurity, she looked forward to each night and the intense pleasure that would come before the fall.

It was on a dull Thursday night that Alice finished her shift at 5 on the dot and drove back home. She flicked on the lights of her now drab and empty apartment, and went straight to her kitchen to start cooking dinner. Her routine had become almost sterile in its uniformity. She would get up, go to work, get home, make dinner, masturbate, then sleep. She lived for nothing else.

When she entered the kitchen, she knew something was wrong. It was like someone had been in there. Despite herself, she flinched, wondering what this oppressive feeling was. Eyes widening in fear, she dashed over to her dining room to check the money. It was still there thank Christ! But as she turned back to the kitchen she was confronted with a large, fat man, dressed in all black with a black ski mask. Before she could yelp he already had his hands on her, gloved fingers encasing her mouth and her throat. Suddenly another pair of hands grabbed her arms. She tried to kick at the fat man, but he pressed his weight against her, boxing her in. His face was up against hers and she smelled his grim, alcoholic breath.

She had dreamt of this for so long, but in the moment she panicked and wanted out. She squirmed and tussled with the two men when she felt her jacket sleeve getting ripped off. She tried to turn her head to see but the fat man held her fast. She felt a scratch in her arm. She continued to squirm, but as they carried her from the dining room to her empty living room, she started feeling lighter, calmer even. They laid her on the floor but she didn't scream. She felt at ease, peaceful...powerless. The men weren't around her anymore, she was on the floor, the room swayed gently above her, and everything turned to black.

5

When Alice slowly and groggily came to, it was hard to ignore that she could barely breathe. Cloth had been stuffed into her mouth and she could feel tape wrapped around her head just under her short hair, sealing the gag in. She couldn't see, with some kind of bag or hood over her head, completely covering her eyes and clouding her face in a rough, musty blackness. When she tried to manoeuvre herself, she couldn't. Her legs were bent up at the knees, pulled towards her arms in a hogtied position. She was still in her grey business-suit, but her shoes were gone, leaving her feet in her tights with rope tied around the ankles, connecting to the rope around her wrist. She was on her side, on some kind of bare mattress in a wide open room. The air was cold, making her shiver. With some effort Alice tried to roll herself onto her back, but her thighs were struck with muscle cramps causing her to squirm and grunt in agony.

When the pain passed, she could feel the panic begin to rise up from her stomach. Sweat and tears streamed across her face. Realising she could only breathe through her nose only made the feelings of terror worse. The fantasy had just been that! A fantasy! She'd got off on the idea of being tied up and whisked away to some tropical island to become her Adonis's submissive slut, but this was real! She had been kidnapped!

Alice tried to concentrate. Remember, she thought, this is all just a service. She'd paid for this. Maybe she could get out of it? Get some of her money back? She'd had the kidnapping experience, now she was tied up. She'd done the fun parts now so if they could just let her go...

There was no safe word. Oh God, Alice wailed. She hadn't done this sort of thing before but she knew from looking online that safe words were always involved. The man she had spoken to had never said anything about anything like that. Jesus Christ Alice, she seethed, whatever you say will just be seen as classic kidnapped girl bullshit! "Please mister I have money! Please sir I don't want this!" They'll have heard it all before! This is a fucked up rape fantasy for fucked up scumbag guys wanting to torture their girlfriends where screaming and pleading is part of the experience, and you did it to yourself without the boyfriend! What is wrong with you? Why would you do anything like this? Why would...?

A door opened somewhere behind her, causing Alice to flinch. Ominous steps made their way towards her. She thought she could sense two people approaching. The steps were heavy; loud soles striking concrete. She figured one of them was the fat man she'd seen the night before. Night before? Two nights? God she didn't even know how long she'd been out! Long enough to be transported and tied up. She could be anywhere! She couldn't help herself and began to whimper into her gag. As the steps came right up to her, her body racked in sobs.