“…After paying the ransom, Mrs. Wilkins was released unharmed. She is officially the fifth victim of this mysterious kidnapper within the past three months, though it is possible that there are other abductees who have chosen to keep silent. Police report that, as of yet, they still have no leads in solving this case.”

Susan paused and looked back over the words she had typed. This was her fifth story on the mysterious kidnapper who had begun a string of kidnap-for-ransom crimes in the area several months before. The young reporter had gotten the scoop, after interviewing the second woman kidnapped and held for ransom. The story she had written had made quite a stir in the public, as much for what Susan hadn’t been able to write, as what she had. The young woman’s cheeks flushed pink when she remembered some of the things Miss O’Brian had said about what she’d endured during her three-day captivity, kept bound and gagged by the strange woman who had drugged and kidnapped the young socialite right out of her bed.

Susan typed another paragraph, then quickly scanned it for errors. Running off a copy, the young woman rose from her desk and carried it to the editor’s office. “My next article, chief.” Susan said, dropping the paper into his In-tray.

“Hmmm…another on this kidnapping business, eh Sue?” Mr. Jones said, eyeing the opening lines. “I was surprised when you asked to be assigned this story. It’s not your regular beat. Joe usually handles the crime stories, but I’ll tell you this has really worked out well. People are eating this stuff up. It’s some of your best. Especially the interviews you did with the victims. Kind of got a woman’s perspective on it. Especially your last interview, the one with that girl; the schoolteacher with a rich uncle. Got a lot of letters from people saying how much they liked it.”

“Thank you, sir.” Susan replied.

“Tell me, why did you want to write on these cases?” Jones asked.

Susan shrugged sheepishly. “Oh…I thought this was a unique story. You don’t hear much about female kidnappers, especially a serial one like this…” She felt her cheeks warm. If truth be told, and Susan would sooner die then tell the truth in this regard, she had found herself more than once, fantasizing about what it would be like, to find oneself kidnapped, a helpless prisoner of a ruthless female captor, bound and gagged and…

Susan couldn’t explain her feelings about this. She’d always been the good girl at home. Never fooled around with the boys like some of her other friends. Save one or two disappointing dates, Susan had never even had a boyfriend. Her sex life was practically non-existent. She’d never really felt like she was missing something before. So why was it, when she talked with some of the other women about their experiences, and imagined herself in their place, wrapped in the tight embrace of the ropes, she found herself growing warm, getting anxious…

The young reporter talked a bit longer with her editor, making some small talk, before he finally shooed her out of his office so he could get back to work. As she walked back to her desk, she glanced at the clock. It was a few minutes’ shy of quitting time, so she paused briefly at her desk to grab her coat and purse and kept walking to the elevator. She got to her car and drove back to her apartment. After relaxing for a couple hours, she got changed and went to bed.

Not for the first time since she had begun writing those stories, Susan dreamed about her mysterious kidnapper. First, the young woman found herself sitting in the back of a dark car, driving through the night. Her hands were bound behind her back with rope. A rolled up cloth muffled her frightened cries as the driver sped down the dark road, carrying her to an unknown place. Then, Susan was sitting on a chair in a dimly lit room. Rope circled her torso, lashing her to the chair. From the shadows, a woman spoke in a low voice. “Well, Miss Shawn, the deadline has come and no one has paid your ransom. Looks like I’ll be keeping you for the time being…”

In her next dream, Susan was lying on the bed in her dark bedroom. She was breathing hard. Her pajamas were damp with sweat. Her legs were tangled up in the sheets. As she lay, staring up into the darkness, the young woman gradually became aware that there was someone else in the room. She felt, as much as heard, another person’s quiet breathing, the soft padding of feed against the carpet, the shadow of a figure looming over the bed…

“This…this isn’t a dream.” Susan realized, after a moment. It was a moment too late. As she started to rise from the bed, a hand shot down, pressing a padded cloth over the young woman’s mouth. Another hand went to Susan’s chest, pushing the startled woman back down onto the mattress.

Susan’s eyes widened in fright. She opened her mouth and sucked air in through the cloth, getting ready to scream for help. The air carried with it a strong, chemical odor. Instantly, Susan found herself getting lightheaded. Vaguely, she remembered from the interviews, some of the other kidnap victims had described being knocked out with a drugged cloth like this.

“But…why…would I…be…kidnapped?” Susan thought, struggling against the drug-induced fog filling her mind. Sluggishly, she shook her head, trying to shake off the cloth and get a breath of fresh air, free of the chloroform, to clear her mind. But the intruder anticipated her victim’s actions and kept the cloth pressed tight. Less than a minute after Susan had woken from her dreams of kidnapping, the young woman slowly sank back into a drugged slumber and she found herself kidnapped for real…

***  

“ugh…” Susan gave a soft moan, stirring. She struggled to take stock of her position. The young woman was curled up, her arms were twisted behind her back, her legs tucked underneath her body. She tried to rise, but found it impossible. Something seemed to be keeping her limbs secured in place. They didn’t want to move. As she squirmed, the young woman could feel walls pressing either side of her. She was in some sort of enclosed space. The space shook, humming with a steady vibration that seemed similar to her, but Susan couldn’t place it.

“mmmppphhh…” Susan groaned. Her head felt like it was floating several feet over her body. Logical thoughts didn’t seem to want to line up in her mind. She opened her eyes, but everything remained dark. Vaguely, Susan could feel some sort of thick, soft, material covering her face, obscuring her vision. “Mmmppphhh!” a second band of similar material was pulled between her lips, garbling the young woman’s confused moans.

There was a loud bump and Susan was suddenly thrown up, colliding with the roof a few inches overhead. From somewhere far off, yet somehow near as well, she heard the engine of a car zoom by, quickly fading away to the steady hum beneath her.

“What happened? Where am I?” Susan thought, fighting against the knockout drugs still in her body. Vaguely, she remembered coming home the previous evening, going to bed, waking up to find someone else in her room, a struggled and then…blackness. Slowly, the young woman realized she was currently bound and gagged in the trunk of a car, driving down the road at high speed.

“I’m being kidnapped!” The young woman thought, a bolt of fear running through her mind. Yet even as she felt the terror, below it was another emotion, an odd feeling of joy at finding her hidden fantasy finally fulfilled.

“Mmmppphhh!” Susan cried out as loud as she could. Her gag reduced it to little more than a quiet whimper. She squirmed around, rolling onto her belly, so she could kick at the roof of the trunk with her bound feet. With any luck, someone might hear her…

Someone did hear her. Without warning, Susan felt the car lurch to the side, throwing her against one side of the trunk. The vehicle slowed, eventually coming to a halt. A moment later, a latch clicked and the lid opened up. Susan felt cold night air blowing over her sweaty body. From out of the darkness, a gloved hand reached down and touched Susan. The young woman was rolled back over onto her side. The other hand pressed the chloroform-soaked cloth over Susan’s face once more.

“not again…” Susan thought, with a whimper of fright. She held her breath as long as she could, but eventually, the young woman had no choice but to breath in. Drugged fumes filled her lungs once more and for the second time, Susan slipped into unconsciousness…

***  

When Susan woke up next, she was lying on an old, bare mattress. Her hands were pulled over her head and lashed to the metal headboard. Her feet were similarly secured to the foot of the bed, stretching the young woman out. She was still blindfolded and gagged.

A draft in the room slowly blew over Susan’s body, causing her to realize while she’d been out, her captor had taken the opportunity to strip the young woman’s pajamas off. But for her panties, Susan was completely naked.

“mmmppphhh…” Susan whimpered quietly into her gag, tugging at the ropes binding her wrists. She had been drugged, taken from her home in the middle of the night, stripped and tied to a bed half naked in some unknown place by an unknown person. The young woman had no idea if she would be released or rescued, or what might be done with her. Despite all that, Susan couldn’t help but feel a strange feeling of joy, which only grew as she struggled against her bonds and discovered she had no hope of freeing herself and that she was completely helpless and at the mercy of her mysterious kidnapper…

“Good to see you’re awake. I was worried that second dose might have been too much…” The voice…the unmistakably female voice, of Susan’s mysterious kidnapper now spoke up, a few feet to the captive woman’s left and above her. Susan heard soft footsteps walk over to beside the bed. Despite the blindfold, Susan could feel the presence of the other woman right above her. She tensed, in that strange mixture of fear and excitement.

“I suppose you might have guessed; I am the mysterious kidnapper you’ve written so much about lately.” The woman told Susan. “You may call me Laura Mischief. Though I generally dislike the attention of the press almost as much as the police, I must admit I have enjoyed reading your articles immensely.”

As the woman, Laura Mischief, continued talking, Susan suddenly felt hands, soft, feminine, with long, dexterous fingers, suddenly reach out of the blackness of her blindfold to land on the captive girl’s naked chest. Susan stiffened, giving a muffled cry into her gag as the fingers danced across her body. It turned into an indignant groan as the hands suddenly reached the reporter’s naked breasts and cupped the soft, round orbs.

“Ha! Take that tone if you will…” Laura teased as she continued to grope and massage Susan’s breasts. “But try and deny that you’re enjoying this. Believe me, I know you are.” She was right. Though Susan continued to mumble protests into her gag, she found herself quivering with excitement at the stimulating pressure on her breasts. Further down, between her legs, she was getting even more agitated.

“As I was saying…” Laura said, still fondling her captive, “I felt there were some improvements that you could make to your articles, some gaps in your knowledge, so I thought I would give you a firsthand experience what one of my other “guests” experience, to help you out. All you have to do is lie there and enjoy the experience…” Susan tried to muffle it, but couldn’t stop herself from giving a quiet moan of pleasure. It ended in a yelp of pain as Laura suddenly pinched both of the captive woman’s nipples painfully.

“But, if you try anything, I promise you’ll regret it!” Laura said sharply. “Thanks to my career, I have a number of contacts in the criminal underworld, to help me pawn the jewelry and other valuables I steal, to launder the ransom money I demand. One of them is an unpleasant lot that deal in the white slave trade. From time to time, I need to get rid of those who pose a risk or are simply no longer of any value to me. They find buyers for these unlucky women in underworld brothels and dungeons around the world. They can easily find a buyer for you to, so if you have any thoughts to trying to escape or otherwise interfere with what happens, forget it, because you will very quickly find yourself in a small shipping crate heading oversees. Are we clear?”

Susan nodded, tears soaking into her blindfold. With a satisfied laugh, the young woman’s captor returned to her gentle fondling of Susan’s breasts, quickly easing the pain of her earlier outburst and replacing it with a soft glow of pleasure. “Don’t worry.” Laura teased, her voice suddenly friendly once more. While one hand continued to massage Susan’s breasts, her other hand drifted steadily lower… “I’m sure you wouldn’t dream to doing anything that would make me have to do that, would you? Just relax…I’m sure you will enjoy this, almost, as much as I will…”    

***  

“Quit squirming!” Laura said. She yanked on the ropes in her hands, cinching the bonds around Susan’s chest tighter. The captive woman gave a groan as the coils circling her tightened. Laura held the ropes taut a moment longer, before knotting them off securely.

Susan had been moved from the bed to a hard high backed wooden chair. After again threatening her captive should she resist, Laura had untied Susan’s hands and feet. The young woman had little time to enjoy her temporary freedom before her hands were pulled behind the chair and once more lashed together. Her feet were tied off to the chair legs and rope was wrapped around her naked chest, pressing her tight against the back of the chair.

“Just need to remove this, so they can see it’s really you…” Laura said, and Susan felt hands pawing at the knot of her blindfold. A second later, the band of cloth fell away. Susan blinked in the sudden light. The captive turned her head, this way and that, for the first time able to take in her surroundings. Susan was seated in the center of a large, dingy room. The walls were bare white-wash, grimy and peeling in places, the floor just bare dirty wooden boards. Apart from the chair she was tied to, the only other piece of furniture was an old brass bed stand, with a bare, stained mattress on it. Susan couldn’t see any windows; she assumed the only door was behind her.          

“That’s better. We can see your pretty face much easier now.” Laura said, stepping around. Susan got her first look at her abductor. She was a tall thin woman, with long arms and legs. She had on a black sweater, over a pair of black pants. A mask obscured her face. In one hand, she had a small camera. In the other was a newspaper, the same paper Susan wrote for, she saw.  

“Just a few photographs…” Laura said, setting the paper, with the front page, facing out, with the morning’s headline on it. “One for the ransom note…” She said, raising the camera and snapping several pictures in quick succession. “And one or two for my personal collection…”

“Mmmppphhh!” Susan whimpered into her gag, putting on the appropriate face of shame and horror as photo after photo was snapped of her; lashed to a chair, gagged and naked apart from her panties. Inside, though, the young woman felt a thrill of excitement, with each flash of the camera. “I’m getting my ransom photo taken!” Susan thought, almost giddy. “I wonder how I look? She twisted, this way and that, trying to pose for the camera, as much as her bonds allowed.

Laura laughed, seeing her captive’s action. “There. I think that will do.” She said, chuckling at the reporter’s muffled sigh. “Now, you wait here, while I run off a couple prints and then I’ll send your ransom note to the paper…”

The kidnapper walked around Susan, disappearing from view behind the chair. The young woman heard a door open and close, followed by the turning of the lock, trapping her inside. Finding herself alone, Susan squirmed in her bonds, not trying to escape, so much as enjoying the feel of the tights coils of rope encircling her body.

“Hmmm…I wonder if she’d let me have a print of one of those photos…” Susan thought, playfully…

***  

“Mmmpphhh!” Susan moaned into her gag as the car hit a bump in the road. The reporter was once more curled up in the trunk of Laura Mischief’s car. Her arms were pulled behind her back and lashed together at the wrists and elbows, the latter only an inch or two apart. Her legs had been bound at the ankles and knees. As before, the young woman was blindfolded and gagged with two thick bands of cloth.

A new addition had been made to the captive’s bonds for the trip, though. A strand of rope was looped around Susan’s waist. Another length of rope was tied to the front of this makeshift belt and run down, disappearing between Susan’s legs. It reappeared at the back, where the rope had been looped around the binding on her wrists before being knotted off, securely, at her ankles. Every movement the young woman made set the rope sawing back and forth across the lips of her sex. Laura had knotted the rope along this section, to increase the teasing Susan felt with every bump and dip in the road.

Susan whimpered. They had been driving for hours, she thought. Enough time to leave the helpless captive very hot and frustrated. She squirmed, trying to work herself to climax, without much success. Her helplessness to satisfy her need only fueled the young woman’s arousal…

Earlier that day, though Susan didn’t know whether it was day or night, she hadn’t seen the sun since her abduction, Laura had returned to the small room where she was holding the young reporter hostage to announce Susan’s ransom had been paid and now she was being released. After tying Susan’s blindfold on again, Laura pressed the chloroform-soaked rag to Susan’s face once more, knocking the helpless woman out long enough for Laura to move her out of the building. When Susan awoke, she was in the trunk and the car was moving.

“Just where was she keeping me?” Susan wondered, as the car ride stretched on interminably. By now, they might have crossed several states, assuming her kidnapper wasn’t just driving in circles to throw her captive off. Finally, Susan felt the car begin to slow and come to a stop.

The trunk lid opened and Susan felt hands reach down and grab her. She shivered as she was lifted out into the cold air. It had been warm in the trunk and Susan’s attempts to stimulate herself had made her very tired and sweaty. She gave a quiet whimper into her gag as she was set down on what felt like a park bench.

“Don’t worry about the cold…” Laura teased. “I’ve phones ahead, to let your editor know where I’ve dropped you off. He should be by to pick you up…sooner or later. Unless some good Samaritan happens to come by and find you first…”

Susan whimpered, but even so, the thought of being left like this, helpless to whomever came across her, gave the young woman another thrill. “Hope Jones takes his time getting here…” She thought, as Laura climbed back into her car and drove off…