Jason was planning for his first abduction and he stood in the center of the large cellar. It was dank and musty, with five cages set against one wall and spaced three feet apart. Thin mattresses with stiff cotton covers spread over the floors of the cages, offering barely enough padding to protect against the cold cement floor. Sturdy brass locks hung open in the hasps with the keys removed. They were hanging on the heavy key ring placed on a hook on the wall by the door. So many keys, but Jason knew exactly which device and lock they belonged to. After four times through this exercise, his methods had been fine tuned to a reliable system.
In the beginning, five sets of collars and cuffs lay on the shelf next to the keys. They were embroidered with delicate gold swirls and Makoto’s emblem. A small ‘J’, ironically resembling a hook, was stitched in red silk thread below the embedded gold hoop on the center of the collar. Takeshi thought that it looked like a drop of blood, but prospective buyers had come to recognize the mark as Makoto’s assurance that the slave had been prepared in the unique methods of his most talented trainer.
Each time Jason’s training room was recreated, it was more advanced than the last. His style and methods of working with the young women had also improved, and by the time they were presented for auction the girls were submissively accepting and brought more money than Jason had ever imagined. It would take five months of intense commitment and training before the last set of restraints was secured around an unwilling participant.
The secluded farmhouse had been purchased in a bogus corporate name years ago. They actually grew corn on three hundred acres. Naturally, Makoto flew workers in to take care of the crop. The three men lived in a house closer to the road and performed the added duty of providing security by stalling nosy neighbors at the gate.
Jason spent a week upgrading the cellar… or downgrading it, depending on how one looked at it. He recoated the walls with a dark plaster substance that held enough moisture to keep a dank, musty smell in the room. The floor had been stripped to concrete, with poles to the cages and other equipment seated into the cement to keep them secure. The look of the place was more a staged affect that he enjoyed. The young women would never see it.
Upstairs, the remote farm home had been modernized with security systems, high tech camcorders that scanned the entire basement from their position in the corners, and a computer system that would rival anything in silicone valley. He knew this because, prior to the layoffs, his former home and employment were there. It still made him smile to think of himself living on a farm in the middle of absolutely nowhere.
Next year, at Makoto’s insistence, Jason was taking a year off. Makoto wanted to sell the farm in Arkansas and relocate Jason to another state. He was lining up an itinerary of training complexes and places he wanted Jason to visit during his sabbatical, and he suggested that Jason find an accommodating escort of his choice to accompany him. Makoto also suggested Jason would want a slave with him to practice the new methods he would discover.
This is what had considerably altered Jason’s plans for the upcoming abductions. Jason knew exactly which young woman he wanted, though he would be stretching his limits of safety by kidnapping the girls from within a fifteen mile radius of the farm. Still, they were from five different townships and with winter approaching, and the crew from the front agreed to help mislead authorities into squandering their efforts in different directions.
Jason perused the basement prison one more time. He was satisfied with the look and feel of the place, and after climbing the stairs to the kitchen he closed and locked the soundproofed door. Lunch from a deli in town sat in a bag on the table, and he grabbed it and walked to the living room. The girl behind the counter who had sold him the sandwich had been a potential victim. Jason discarded her when he saw that work around the food had almost doubled her size and ruined her complexion.
The folders of the remaining choices of prey were spread on the coffee table. Jason thumbed through profiles, deciding which lucky young lady would be first to embrace her new life. It was amazing how well things in his life had fallen into place.
Chapter II
It was a steamy July, with heat waves miraging the air over the hot asphalt parking lot. While other young women her age were taking the summer off, heading home or taking a vacation, Janice was running across the pavement towards the old brick school building. Thanks to a flat tire, she was late to class. Luckily, she had a can of sealant in the trunk that inflated the tire within minutes and allowed her to be on her way.
By the time Janice walked into the air conditioned building her thin cotton blouse was sticking to her. Her pale flesh showed through the damp white of the cloth and her shirt was no longer loosely hugging her figure. She was uncomfortably aware of the way it was plastered against her. She felt sweat dripping between her breasts and was extremely self-conscious of the sheer pastel bra she had chosen. The heat made the more rigidly structured garments her bountiful mounds called for completely unbearable. Now, she was forced to carry her books in front of her chest to keep her treasures hidden.
Janice walked quickly down the linoleum tiled hall of Jasper Community Junior College with a red flush of embarrassment washing across her cheeks. She wore no makeup… never had, and did not need to. The healthy, unblemished skin and sky blue eyes were set off by a mop of brown curls. Her complexion was the one attribute she could thank her life on the farm for. Janice was raised on fresh vegetables and clean air, without the lure of fast foods and pollutants to damage her skin.
It was her last semester at the junior college, and she was looking forward to furthering her degree and transferring to the more expensive state college in the fall. Janice was determined to escape the trap of life on a farm, and she had not taken time off since she began her studies. Next month she turned twenty, and she would be one of the youngest students enrolling in the more advanced courses.
Janice kept a busy schedule, with full-time classes at school and a full-time job as a companion to an elderly woman during the evenings. It afforded her free rent and plenty of time to study. Sunday was the only day that Janice took off. Mrs. Parker’s daughter, Lucille, watched her mother every day except Saturday. The old woman was more comfortable in familiar surroundings, and as she had no true ailment other than aging, having the quiet girl take an empty upstairs bedroom seemed like the logical decision. The family was making plans to transfer Mrs. Parker to a nursing home when Janice left at the end of the summer.
Janice did not mind the hectic agenda. It kept her focused on her studies, albeit at the expense of a social life. She did have a few casual girlfriends that she met up with for Sunday brunch. Other than that, she figured that she would have plenty of time to catch up when she graduated. The last thing she needed was a man distracting her and complicating her life. She slid into her chair, blushing deeper when the professor and students stopped to look at her. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she murmured, in a voice so low the girl sitting in front of her could barely hear her. “I had a flat tire.”
In the afternoon, Jason pulled his van into the space beside the compact car. The girl had been running late and the only spots available were towards the back. While waiting for the early evening thunderstorms to begin, he watched students’ cars leave throughout the day as their classes ended. When he was certain he was not being observed, he climbed down from the van, twisted the cap off the stem to her tire, and used the tip of a knife to let the air out of her tire again.
Jason had counted on her getting it fixed that morning and making it late to her classes. Janice had a very predictable schedule and, unfortunately, Mrs. Parker had very nosy neighbors. It made it impossible to collect her from the house. As it turned out, he had to wait until almost two in the morning for the last light to turn off across the street. Jason had parked a mile away and crept back to the house. He was very good at waiting. Patience was something that he knew reaped the greatest rewards.
The storms had passed, ensuring the studen
ts attending evening classes had parked close to the buildings. Janice’s little compact sat isolated in the parking lot, listing slightly towards the front left fender. The dark van had been moved and was now parked in the shadows. Even with the illumination from scattered lights, it was almost completely obscured from view.
More cars left, and Jason watched the building until the girl with the riotous brown curls exited with an armful of books. She walked across the lot alone, staring at the ground and hurrying quickly towards her car. Janice opened the door and tossed her books onto the passenger seat. With her purse still slung across her shoulder, she noticed the flat tire over the top of her opened car door.
Oh no. Janice knew she did not have another can to fix the tire. She pulled out her cell phone and stared at it, having absolutely no idea who she could call. The closest gas station or store was a mile off campus.
Jason was edging towards the kneeling girl who was running her fingers over the flat tire and willing it to heal and inflate. He stopped when she began speaking. “Lucille, it’s Janice. My tire is flat again, so I’ll be late getting home to relieve you.”
Jason remained frozen in place. “Gosh, if your husband could do that, it would be great.” Janice listened. “Thirty minutes is fine. Thanks, Lucille.” Janice slipped her cell phone into her purse and decided to wait in the car. The school buildings would be locked soon.
She stood and prepared to slide into the seat when a muscular arm wrapped around her from behind. Janice gasped, but before she could scream, another hand covered her mouth. There was a sweet, sickly odor from a rag covering her nose and open lips. She panicked and inhaled through the cloth to let out as loud a yell as she could. Instead, her head went completely foggy in an unbalanced swirl of confusion. Even her arms dropped from their prying attempt, and on the next inhaled breath she felt her legs go numb. Oh my god. Oh my god, what’s happening?
Through a blur of disorientating panic, she felt herself being dragged into the shadows. She had no strength to resist, and by the time Janice had the sensation of being pulled into the van, her eyes closed into unconscious sleep. Jason turned her onto her stomach and handcuffed her wrists. He shackled her ankles, threading them through the wrist cuffs so that she was arched backwards and hogtied. He secured a blindfold across her eyes and slid a foam ball gag into her mouth. Satisfied that she was restrained in the unlikely event that she regained consciousness, Jason climbed out of the van and slid the door closed.
He walked quickly to her car and locked the driver door. Janice had her purse, still slung over her arm and now locked into position by the restraints. Jason climbed into the van and pulled out of the campus parking lot before Lucille’s husband had left work. It would be an hour before he called his wife, and another hour before they decided to call the police.
Jason was already back at the farmhouse before Janice was considered missing. He had her lying on a heavy wooden table in the basement, still unconscious. Her purse was upstairs by her folder. Jason would send Makoto her wallet, and then burn the rest of the contents with her clothes out back in a drum he used for his trash.
Jason wrapped sturdy leather cuffs around her ankles, wrists, and neck. He secured her spread-eagle to the short chains embedded into the table and walked to a cabinet to gather his other supplies. Excitement of the capture was already flowing through him, arousing him and highlighting the tinge of violet in his eyes. The pad of one finger traced the sleeping woman’s lips, before he spread them and fitted a ring gag behind her teeth. Jason turned her head to the side and locked the strap into her mass of soft curls. He opened a small compact, lifted one of her eyelids, and compared the color of the lens to her eyes.
Makoto had supplied him with hundreds of shades, all true to color on one side, and opaque on the other. As it made no difference whether or not the women could see their abductor, Makoto thought Jason’s decision to keep the women blindfolded was unusual. He had come up with the suggestion of the contacts, and Jason was pleased with the result.
The girl would be blind and Jason could still enjoy watching all of her features. He knew it really was not necessary to hide himself, as the girls were never going to be released. Jason merely enjoyed their additional fear and the dependency the condition created. They became much more malleable and conformed to their training regime much quicker without the use of their sight to aid them in their search for ways to escape. The girls spent the entire time during their initial training believing he had permanently taken away their vision. The contacts were not removed until they were shipped to the overseas compound.
Janice woke in a sluggish, uncertain condition, slowly regaining her senses and yanking in confusion at the chains securing her wrists and ankles. The surface she was lying on was hard, and her mouth was pried open by some unmovable round bar. Wherever she was had no light, and the darkness was terrifying. Every little noise made her jump and she trembled with fright. If I scream, he might come back for me. Janice cried, silently remembering her kidnapping and praying Lucille’s husband was already searching for her.
Someone must have seen. A student or teacher had to have gotten a look at the van. Janice searched her memory. She had been distracted by the flat tire, but she was fairly certain that she was the last student leaving the parking lot, again. A final routine after her last class included veering towards the walls of the foyer to study the bulletin boards. She read the notices of student happenings and gatherings in an attempt to absorb some of the social life she was missing.
Janice managed to turn one hand, and her fingers felt the grain of the wooden table. I’m not in the van. She had expected to feel metal, and the knowledge that she had been unconscious long enough to have been moved, caused a soft, frightened sob to escape. She swallowed through her opened mouth in an awkward gulp.
Jason watched her try to search her surroundings until he was fairly certain most of the drug had worn off. Confusion and fear were evident in her expression and the gradually increased trembling of her body. She continued to gaze blindly through the darkness with her permanently fixed blue gaze. When Jason was certain her senses had returned, he brushed a thumb down her cheek, and she screamed.
“Janice, from Jasper Community Junior College, and acquired in July,” his deep steady voice recited.
Janice screamed again, and she began to wail. She bowed her back off the table when fingers slid the top button of her blouse open. No, oh god help me. Please. She thrashed her head in panic, banging it against the hard surface. By the time the man had opened the third button, Janice had the surreal sense that he could see in the pitch-black room. His fingers did not fumble along the material, searching for the small white buttons. She blinked furiously through her tears, crying and shaking her head.
When her blouse was unbuttoned, his hands spread the material wide and she shivered. Fingers of one hand unclipped the front clasp of her bra and she felt sure that the man could see, but everything was dark and she could not understand it. Janice gasped when the cups of her thin bra were pushed to the side. The air was chilled and musty, and her fat brown nipples tightened. Janice began to sob and fight the restraints.
Jason gazed at her breasts. They were milky white, with no evidence of tan lines from a swimsuit. While she tried to thrash against the table, he used scissors to cut the rest of the blouse and the straps of her bra away. They lay ruined on the table, wedged under her back. Her jeans were next, and after unzipping them he cut down each leg. Pink cotton bikini panties rested low on her hips and she wailed when they were stripped away.
Jason ran his fingers down the length of her. She was a solid cream color with no blemishes or scars. There was almost a note of confusion in his voice. “I figured you’d have a few marks from the farm. You must have kept yourself pretty well covered out there.”
Janice froze. Now, she knew that he could see her. He also knew her background, so he had not taken her at random. The flat tires. Why, though? He has to know my folks don’t have m
oney. No one’s going to pay to get me back.
Fingers caressed down her quivering ribcage. “You are slave J. I surmise you realize that you have been blinded.” Jason never told them the condition was temporary. It diluted their focus from their training. He was rewarded with another desperate wail.
Oh, god. I’m blind? Janice could feel a slightly abrasive feeling against her lids, but she had thought it was a result of the drug he had used. Now, she understood the crushing finality of any plan to escape. She was completely at her abductor’s mercy, and her body sagged onto the table in shocked defeat.
Jason unclipped her wrist cuffs from the table. The girl barely fought him when he sat her up and latched them behind her. Janice’s mind was reeling in shock, and she cried when his hand brushed over her chest, across her pussy, and down her legs. Her ankles were unhooked and she sat on the table, tears washing down her cheeks while she trembled and searched the dark room.
A strong hand gripped her upper arm and guided her off the table. It took a moment for her legs to support her and steady. The man began to lead her in a slow walk and she struggled a little to get away. Without the use of her eyes or hands, she knew that she was helpless.
The arm began to pull her down and in a soft, low voice, he said, “Crawl forward, J. There is a bowl of water in the corner.”
Janice quivered and his hand released her arm, pressing against the soft cheeks of her bottom until her knees shuffled her onto a mattress. Her head was brushing the top of the enclosure and soon her breasts bumped into cold bars of the other wall. A cage? I’m in a cage. She jumped when the loud clang of the door behind her echoed, and she heard the definitive sound of a lock clicking together. A few seconds later, there was the snap of a light switch and the sound of heavy footsteps climbing stairs.
JASON Page 3