Three days. Three days of a silent phone. Three days without rehearsals, concerts, events, meetings with the writers or the journalists or the stylists or the lawyers or the nothing. Sabine had three days of freedom. She had recently gotten her driver license and bought a car. She intended to drive wherever and see whatever, without anybody around telling her what to say, what to wear, or what to do.

Her fame posed and added difficulty though. She'd have to conceal her identity, if she wanted to be left alone. After the last rehearsal, and a much needed shower to clean the sweat, she put on the garments that she hoped would make her invisible.

People were used to see her in a certain way. She got famous at the age of fourteen in a TV show for young talents. Those first years she used to sing about homework and candy. At the age sixteen her clothes started to gradually shorten and her songs went to talk about boyfriends. A week after her eighteen birthday she showed her breasts in public for the first time. That day she wore her most iconic outfit, a very short, pink vinil skirt that didn't cover the curve of her buttocks, and a black fishnet top that didn't hide anything at all. By then her songs almost exclusively talked about sex.

Along the next years both her outfits and her songs became more explicit. In all her concerts she showed her breasts, her underwear or both. Her manager insisted on that she should lie about her sexual life and say that all the songs were based on her experiences. Twice a lie. In all her life, twenty five years, she had written many songs, but only had been given permission to sing a couple of them after multiple alterations. Her real sexual experiences were very limited as well, with only a real boyfriend in highschool, a fake one paid by her parents for a few months until she figured out the truth, and a few more tasteless encounters afterwards that led nowhere.

Still, due to the themes of her songs, and her constant nakedness, many people considered her to be an actual slut, and a bad influence for children. So much so that at some point her stylists decided to roll along with it, convincing her to tattoo the word “SLUT” on her right cheek, next to the nose. To control the narrative, they said. Since they couldn't force her to it by legal means, on that occasion she was able to negotiate. As a counterpart she decided another tattoo for herself, an array of stars of many colours and sizes around her right shoulder, and that half of her upper chest and back. She won that battle, her tattoo was much bigger and spectacular than that ugly word on her cheek, and her fans loved it.

As her body was easily recognizable and famous worldlwide, to enjoy her three days of freedom she'd have to hide it completely. Cargo pants, a sweater, and a buttoned up shirt should do the trick. The sweater included a hoodie to help cover her face. Not many people knew that her hair, always long, lush and dyed in bright colors was actually a whig, and the real one was shaved long ago. The constant change of color and the use of mousse and other products had destroyed it and for the stylists was a nightmare, as well as for herself. Scissors and clippers solved the problem. Sadly, a shaved woman would draw more attention than she desired, hence the hoodie. The final touches were a pair of thick glasses and a band aid to cover her cheek tattoo. As people were used to see her semi naked and covered in glittery make up, she hoped that such a change of style would protect her anonymity.

To make the trip a bit more fun she inserted a small vibrating egg in her pussy and put the controller in her pocket. The wire went over the waist of the trousers but effectively hidden under the hem of the sweater. Should the trip be boring she would use it to entertain herself. She didn't know if it was strong enough to make her orgasm, as she had never tried it, but there would be plenty of time to figure it out.

It worked. Not even her rehearsal companions, dancers and musicians, and neither the security guards recognized her when she walked along the hallways, out of the building and across the parking lot. Everybody used to tell her that she had a good body, and musted be true because she did a lot of dancing, so not having anybody staring was a new and interesting experience. More so with a vibrator buried in her pussy, rocking inside her with each step.

As soon as she entered in the car, she found herself in a conundrum. She didn't know where to go. She had arrived to that city a wek ago, and so far all she had seen was the hotel and the sports arena where they did the rehearsals and where the concert would take place. Under the doubt she got her hand in her pocket and activated the vibrator. She tried all three levels of intensity and the higher one would undoubtedly give her a nice and quick orgasm. Possibly the medium one too, while she was sitting. The lower one was only for teasing, she guessed. When she was about to reach the peak, she shut it down. She didn't want to rush things. She had three days. Plenty of time to masturbate. Plenty of time for everything. She took a moment to calm down and regain her breath.

She knew that the beach was close, so she decided to go there, and drive parallel to the coast. Perhaps stop at a bar. Or two. Plenty of time for everything. Plenty of money to expend. Life was going well. She was not very happy in general, because she was tired of her tightly controlled life, both by her coworkers, that supposedly were her subordinates except she actually didn't have control over anything, but also by the public, that seemed to want to know everything about her almost non-existent private life. The cost of doing business, her lawyer used to say, whenever a complete stranger went to an internet podcast to descrive a love affair that hadn't happened. The cost of being a public slut, she bitterly added.

She drove a couple of minutes. There was traffic at that hour and she didn't get very far. It didn't matter. Nobody was bothering her. She was chill. She was fine. A red light made her stop at a crossing. She started the vibrator on the low setting while she waited. Suddenly a strong flash of light blinded her and she felt pain on the shoulder. Everything went black.

She awakened a while later, disorientated. She was still in her car, though oddly not on the driving seat, but on the passenger seat. Through the glass on her right she could see countless trees passing along. She felt no pain, not even on her shoulder, and instead a warmth was emanating from her crotch. The vibrator was still on. She tried to shut it off but her hands, crossed in front of her waist, didn't move. She struggled for a bit but stopped when she noticed that something was pulling all around her lower torso and upper legs whenever she tried to move. Only then she looked towards the left.

On the driver's seat there was a young man, not much older than her, driving calmly, rocking his head up and down, following the rhythm of the music in the radio, that happened to be playing one of her songs. She was too shocked to respond and instead looked at him in silence for at least a minute. She had been warned many times that there was a type of crazy fan that would do anything to get a bit of attention. Or a crazy hater. Or merely a crazy person. She didn't think that it would happen while wearing such a good disguise. Not that good, apparently.

-Excuse me...- They advise was always stay calm and wait for help. Do not antagonize. Do not provoke.- What the fuck!- She yelled, completely ignoring the advises.

-Good afternoon, miss Ferrier. I'll call you Sabine if you don't mind.- He knew who she was. Possibly a crazy fan.

-Yeah... And you are...?

-Nobody ever gave me a name.- A crazy fan indeed.- Please stay calm, I mean no harm. I just... I greatly appreciate the things you have done, and I wished to give you a present in this sad moments.- She knew that she was unhappy. Impossible, she had never said that in public. She always pretended in public. She was always in character. The fun, cheerful, vain, slut singer that folks loved. Or hated. Or both. She had spent so much time in character that she didn't know if there was a real Sabine underneath anymore.

-Thanks, eh... There is no need. Please, take me back to...

-Impossible. There is no going back. We can only go forward.- Super crazy.

-Look, I have money...

-Money? I wouldn't even know what to do with it.- Super, duper crazy.- You will like my present. I certainly hope so.

If he was as crazy as he seemed there was no point in arguing. Instead Sabine focused on figuring out why she couldn't move her hands. There was some kind of string binding her arms. Thick as a rope, but softer. Not only around her wrists. It seemed to be all around her body. She couldn't know for sure because it was inside the sweater, and the trousers. He somehow had stripped her down, bound her and then dressed her again. Without removing the vibrator. She could feel the rope making loops at least around her wrists, over the elbows, neck, torso below the armpits, again under the breasts, around the waist, both thighs, below the kness and ankles. All of those seemed to be part of the same coil of rope, because she could feel all of them tightening whenever she moved. Maneuvering she found a rigid, oval shaped piece, similar to a carabiner, linking the rope of her wrists with the one around her waist. Holes had been cut in the fabric of the sweater for that purpose. She found at least four carabiners more, two linking the elbow ropes with the one under her breasts, one more linking both thighs together, and one more linking ankles together. Not only she was defenseless, but with the ropes hidden under the clothes, nobody would even try to help, because they wouldn't see anything worrying. She didn't dare imagine how the kidnapper had done that or how fast, apparently inside the car. It didn't seem possible at all.

-What is this? Release me!- She tried to struggle harder to try to break the bonds.

-Please, don't. I don't want you to get hurt.- That sounded a lot like a threat so she stopped. The car would have to stop at some point. Somebody would see them. Somebody would help.

-And... where are we going?- She asked already starting to feel desperate.

-It's a surprise. You will like it.

The vibrator didn't help calming her down, but acted as a both pleasant and annoying distraction. At least she wasn't in pain. Could be worse. It seemed to be a secondary road. There weren't many cars. Those who got close didn't seem to notice anything odd, and ignored Sabine. She considered yelling but she was afraid of angering the nameless crazy fan, or whatever he was.

About an hour later they arrived to a cheap looking hotel. At a distance Sabine could see what seemed like the outskirts of a city, but the hotel itself was separated from it. As part of the compound she saw a gas station, an ample restaurant, and a big parking lot with numerous trucks. Possibly a rest area for drivers. Sabine wondered if she was about to be packaged and loaded on one of those trucks along with other girls. Only because she wanted to drive alone and do tourism like a normal person for once.

The nameless kidnapper stopped in the parking lot and helped Sabine get out of the car by releasing the carabiner linking her ankles. She tried to walk away but he grabbed another one on the back of her neck, that she hadn't noticed, and pulled, stopping her.

-Ouch, my neck!- By pulling on the carabiner, the rope around her neck tightened. As her shirt was buttoned up, the lapels helped hiding the rope, along with the bottom part of the hood.

-Sorry. Stay close to me, or suffer the consequences.- That sounded ominous.- Come and enjoy.