The sound of the current speaker was loud enough to hear in the backroom, though only barely. It was muted to the point that only the reverberations of the slightly-too-high bass were audible. That, and the frequent thunderous applause for whatever diatribe the speaker explained. Occasionally, a word could be made out through the silencing effect of the walls. "Knowledge" and possibly "Lamborghini" made the occupants of the lobby at least somewhat intrigued by whatever bizarre speech was happening a few rooms over.

Had they only known how enticing, how exciting things were. Not on the stage, but behind it. Three speakers in a row had discussed their findings, explained their theories, and exited via the backstage door. 

And three speakers in a row had witnessed signage that directed them not south, towards the dressing rooms, but north towards a long hallway with poor acoustics. 

Three speakers in a row had walked down the cold, poorly-lit concrete before realizing that the signs must have been wrong, and that they were on the wrong path. Three in a row had turned around and been confronted with a frightening new reality.

The first, Dr. Qwen Evelyn, had taken it with a mixture of panic and grim resignation. "You're here to kill me," she had said. The doctor's hands were shaking as she reached for her massive, thick glasses, hoping to see her attacker. She was quite surprised when she noticed no weapons in the hands of her assailant. After she was captured, she was almost annoyed that there had been so much drama. Wouldn't it have been better just to kidnap her off the street? Grab her while she was in a car, or kick down her door? She even spent a few minutes pontificating on all the unnecessary flash that her captors were so obviously embracing. No need to catch her in the middle of a public space. Dropping a tape buddy into her bedroom or bathroom would have done just as well. She was not eager to meet her new employer.

The second, Dr. Natasha Zhukov, had fled. It wasn't easy, of course. She hadn't picked out her outfit - no, that was her closest friend, confidante, and sometimes-domina. And that meant that she was not equipped to run! Certainly, she had tried as best she could. Despite her tremendous chest, her far-too-tight blouse, her hobbling skirt and punishing heels, the transhuman managed to dart down the hallway and even attempted to alert the authorities. But alas, the bowels of the convention center had a deadening effect on her mobile phone. Natasha mewled, scrambling back into a corner while her kidnapper advanced. It was something out of a horror movie... except no hero dashed in to save the day. Instead she was grabbed, stripped, plugged, gagged, and sacked up for transport. It was just as she always wanted.

The third, Hope, actually managed to evade capture purely by chance. While the kidnapper was busy giving Natasha a thorough and prolonged spanking, Hope simply realized that the signs were wrong and walked away. It wasn't until ten minutes later that the hostile assailant realized that, due in part to how very fun it was to punish Tasha. This was positively infuriating; Hope was a valuable asset. The brunette was walking carefree back to the dressing room, joking with her assistants, posting to social media about about how well her presentation was gone. The nerve! It was totally unacceptable, and Natasha - for being so fun to punish - was in turn punished with a series of vibrating and highly stimulating toys, a chastity belt, and a thickly-stuffed gag. Even so, all was not lost. Hope - grinning and in a good mood - was subtly manipulated into providing an encore presentation. The captor changed up tactics, encouraging Hope to do a second presentation of her miraculous goods... and this time, performing a live demonstration as well. It would be her last public demo for quite some time. 

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Commission drawn by

I commissioned this when I realized how much fun it is to make jokes about TEDx talks and how lovely captured scientists are, especially after my other recent story. 

Vignette 7 - Hope and Love
     “Do you know what presenting means?”
     Hope wiggled slightly. “Um. In… in what context do you mean?”
    The voice let out a chuckle. It wasn’t a comforting “you’re funny, I’m going to keep you alive” sort of chuckle. It was the kind that made Hope assume that the voice was about to gloat at its own cleverness.
    “Well, in the animal world, presenting means adopting a very curvy posture in order to tell the world that you’re ready for copulation.”
    A finger graced over Hope’s lips. She knew she was blushing. She puckered up on reflex.
    “It means, Hope, that you’re ready to get intimate.”
    “That wasn’t my presentation, of course.”
    The voice let out a real laugh this time. A

So, what is this... a prequel? An alternate history? A reboot? Not important! What is important is that a mysterious and anonymous captor has gone out of her way to acquire some of the brightest minds out there. She's not recruiting for some foolhardy project like an underwater city, nor for some end-of-the-world contingency... she's building something far more malevolent: company talent!

To that end, this year's REDTalks saw sudden and unexplained disappearances of three scientists. There's no known connection in their background, though their research into polymers and chemical substrate could be a link for a particularly perspicacious person. 
At least one witness reports seeing the three scientists before their untimely and mysterious disappearance, describing them as "trapped in some sort of shiny, thick suit" and "taped up so tight they couldn't do much but wriggle." 




From left to right:

The cold-hearted optimist, Dr. Qwen Evelyn

The buxom braniac, Natasha Zhukov

The indefatigable damsel, Hope