Nathan remembered everything about Samantha. He remembered exactly how she looked, a pretty, short Chinese girl with soft features and a face that absolutely lit up like fourth of July fireworks whenever she smiled. He remembered her long dark hair blowing in the wind as she stood against the rail and looked out across the lake, her floral minidress and white Doc Martens had been a really suitable outfit for her personality: girly but with an edgier feel. The moment he laid eyes on her as she was walking with friends, he was obsessed.
He quickly found out everything about her. Usually when he was investigating a potential target, social media, some pictures, and some investigations into her standard routine were enough before he made a snatch. With Samantha, he went all out. Pictures of her soon filled his computer and one of his briefcases, and he soon had her weekly schedule fully committed to memory. His friends laughed, saying he’d fallen in love with a girl that was hopelessly out of reach. His colleagues in the slaving ring said his mind had been poisoned by this girl, and that he had taken a simple target and snatch too far.
Nathan remembered the day he snatched her. She’d been wearing jeans, those white Docs, a floral top, with a grey backpack slung over her shoulder. She had a habit of taking some of the low traffic alleyways through the university campus to get to her classes, and he used that to her full advantage. He had brought in a white utility van, disabled the cameras in the area and simply waited for her to get out of class. Like clockwork, at 10:35 she appeared, walking down the staircase above him and would take a path right past him and his van. He opened up the door and acted like he was looking for something as she went by and then turned around and grabbed her. The shock of being grabbed prevented Samantha from doing anything initially, and it was easy for him to manhandle her over to the van and throw her inside. Closing the door as he climbed in, she had recovered her senses enough to open her mouth to scream but he quickly pounced and shoved a balled up cloth into her mouth. Duct tape strips were plastered over her mouth, but he’d fix that gag later. Flipping open a switchblade, he held it up to her face as he pressed her against the floor of the van. “Cooperate, and I won’t have to use this. Understood?”
Her eyes, usually so full of joy and mischief, were now wide with fear. She nodded, and he used the knife to cut the straps of her backpack and tossed it to the side. “Hands behind your back.” He instructed.
She had been so compliant after that, the threat of the knife keeping her from doing anything stupid as he taped her up. Wrists and elbows, above and below her breasts, then above and below her knees and her booted ankles. God he loved the sound of duct tape wrapping up the leather of those boots. He wondered idly if he could keep those boots as a trophy afterwards, but first he had to pay full attention to the beauty prone on the van floor beneath him. She moaned into the gag as he tore off the strips and replaced it with a stiffling wrap gag of a dozen winds of tape around her head. He drank in everything about the situation, her scent, her fear, the way her body squirmed against her bonds, her pitiful moans and pleas for release. He remembered it all.
He remembered dragging her out of the van at the processing facility and placing her upright on the concrete floor. She was dishevelled, disorientated as the tape blindfold was ripped off of her eyes and she looked around the room in shock. Her feet were now clad in only her socks, he had cut her tape bonds and removed her boots to keep as trophies on the way to the slave processing facility. Nathan then had the pleasure of stripping Samatha, her breasts surprisingly large for a girl of her size and they looked good as well. Nathan felt her up for a moment before he brought out the leather cuffs for her wrists and ankles. A black head harness ballgag replaced the duct tape gag, and he locked the leather collar around her neck. She had whimpered when the padlock snapped shut, sealing her fate now as a slave as he watched her be led off to training.
He saw her one more time after that. After her training was completed, she was auctioned off and he had been there to watch her get led up on stage, clad in skimpy lingerie, to be sold. They had gotten a good price, a portion of which he would receive. The money made him happy, but as she was led off by her new owner, he realized his only happiness was her.
Returning to the present, he peeked around the corner as a man in his late 30s walked into the room in his bathrobe and picked up the steaming cup of coffee. Scrolling through his phone as he sipped the hot caf, it took a few minutes but soon he realized something was wrong. The coffee cup fell from his fingers, smashing across the ground as his hand went to his chest. It never got there as the man collapsed onto the counter, his body eventually slipping off of the countertop and collapsing to the floor. Nathan grinned as he emerged from hiding to look at the results of his handiwork. The poison he had slipped into the coffee had done wonders, and now he could get down to business.
Grabbing the key fob from the man’s belt, he walked into the back of the house to the basement door and used it to enter. Downstairs was a dungeon, probably used for all manner of things for the slavegirls that he had purchased over the years. Nathan surveyed the equipment in the room before scanning the keycard again to open the door to the slave storage area. There were four slaves locked in small cages that forced them into tiny balls with little room to shift in their prisons. Each girl had their arms trapped behind their backs in leather monogloves. Leather cuffs encircled their ankles and kept them chained down to the floor of the cage. A leather hood and collar combo completed their bondage, keeping their senses heavily dulled.
Even hooded, Nathan immediately knew which one was Samantha. A quick pass of the keycard undid the electronic locks of her cage and he pulled her out, allowing her to stand on shaky legs. Unlacing her hood, he pulled it off of her head to reveal her sweaty face. It was the same face that he remembered, eyes dulled after months of training and slavery, but everything about her was still the same. His face lit up in a grin as her eyes widened in recognition. She was his obsession, and now she was his.