Her Last Night on the Job 




http://morpheus-cf.deviantart.com/art/Her-Last-Night-on-the-Job-327643059

Midnight. The lights in the apartment had just gone out, and it was time to go
to work. Time to kidnap the most beautiful blonde I'd ever seen.

She had caught my eye two weeks ago in the airport, a vision of beauty in a
blue vinyl ensemble: skintight jacket and leggings, with matching belt and
boots. Every eye within visual range followed her as she strode confidently
out of the building, leaving an indelible memory in the minds of countless men
and women. But I was the only one who followed her to her car, a
champagne-colored convertible that seemed to fit her almost as well as her
vinyl costume. She sped off in a cloud of smoke, but not before I'd jotted
down her license plate. It was only a matter of hours before I was outside her
apartment and noting its apparent lack of any real security. I smiled to
myself. Now it was down to details: her job, her family, her friends, etc. I
needed to know how soon before she'd be missed, and by whom.

It was almost as though she'd been created for me to kidnap. She had no job,
no living family, and no close friends in the city. Perfect. I could grab her
and no one would miss her for weeks. Weeks I'd get to spend preparing her for
her new lifestyle as the pampered plaything of some wealthy man or woman, kept
in helpless restraint and forced to comply with her new owner's every whim.
Part of me envied her; the notion of being held captive in some far-off land
and compelled to perform all manner of sexual favors for an emotionally
distant master or mistress... but enough daydreaming. I had a pretty lady to
capture.

Gaining access was a breeze, her locks might as well have been made of paper
for all the trouble they were to bypass. I crept inside, carrying my kidnap
kit with me; a small black satchel that contained everything a girl would need
to trap and contain any unsuspecting young damsels she might encounter:

* A roll of black duct tape (more than enough to secure her wrists, ankles,
and have a few strips left over to seal her pretty little mouth shut);

* A dozen zip-ties (quieter and quicker to use than duct tape, best for
late-night captures when silence is ideal);

* A supply of cotton gauze, enough for two handfuls;

* A pair of dust masks;

* And, last but not least, a dark brown bottle full of chloroform.

The gauze and masks were part of the chloroform application process. Soak a
handful of gauze and hold it under the mark's nose until she's fully sedated.
In most situations, a few whiffs are sufficient to keep her out until she can
be bound and gagged. But on rare occasions, when prolonged sedation is
necessary, the dust masks are the perfect solution. Tuck the gauze inside the
mask and strap the mask to her face, and presto! A damsel who won't wake until
you're ready. My car was close by, but I was already planning to mask the
lovely blonde and keep her out until we were safely home, and I could take my
time binding and gagging her. I took a moment to prepare the gauze with the
chloroform and then made my way to her bedroom.

She lay still on her bed. She'd turned the light off only a few minutes
earlier, but the steady rhythm of her breathing suggested she was already in
the Land of Nod. Not that I was taking any chances: I slowly inched my way
across her floor on my hands and knees, gauze in my right hand. I studied her
face as I approached, ready to pounce at the first sign of awareness on her
part. But she remained still, every bit the vision of loveliness I'd spotted
in the airport. If anything, she was even more lovely lying relaxed and
peaceful, completely vulnerable and helpless. Smiling, I reached her bed and
knelt forward, pressing the damp cotton to her face and then springing on top
of her, pinning her spectacular body under my own.

She awoke with a start, her eyes popping open and her nose wrinkling as she
caught the chloroform's strong odor. She tried turning her head this way and
that in a futile effort to avoid the drug-soaked gauze, but I'm a professional
and had no problem keeping the pad in place. Her struggles grew frantic as she
attempted to free herself, but within moments, she'd had enough of the fumes
and sank back. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly and a soft groan announced her
defeat as she slumped peacefully to sleep. I held the gauze in place another
few seconds, watching the rise and fall of her magnificent breasts as she took
two more chloroform-scented breaths. Certain that she was completely out, I
removed the pad and smiled down at my latest conquest.

Suddenly, I was seized from behind in an iron grip and pulled off the
unconscious girl. My arms were pinned behind my back and a gloved hand clamped
over my mouth to silence my squeal of dismay. My captors turned me to face an
imposing brunette woman clad almost identically to me, except her black
catsuit was made of vinyl, not lycra. Her curves were even more outrageous
than the blonde's, and I found myself momentarily distracted from my
predicament, swept up by the brunette's lush figure and her full, glossy red
lips. It was only the sharpness in her eyes that forced me back to the real
world. She was furious.

"Congratulations, Miss Benedict. You've fallen into my trap. I thought you
might find Gwendoline too lovely a victim to resist, and I was right. Now your
days of selling women into sexual slavery are over." Her voice was soft as
silk, but the intensity with which she spoke sent shivers through my body. The
women restraining me were strong, but even they couldn't keep me from taking a
step back from this vengeful vixen. She knew my name...

"Hold her still!" she ordered. The vicelike grip on my arms tightened further,
and my retreat was over. She took a step forward, and the smile that parted
her lips was the most terrifying thing I've ever seen. "Barbara has a long
trip ahead. How gracious of her to provide the means for us to transport her
quietly." With that, she held up her right hand. In it was one of my dust
masks, already packed with freshly-soaked gauze.

The leather-clad hand covering my mouth was gone an instant later. She reached
forward and grabbed the back of my head with her left hand, bringing the mask
up to my face with her right. Any hopes I had of finding escape dissolved as
the familiar sweetness filled my nostrils and caused bright bolts of color to
explode behind my eyes. She leaned in close to watch my eyes, looking for...
what? Resignation? Acceptance of my fate? I don't know. But the image of her
staring at me with that triumphant smile is the last thing I saw before a dark
curtain obscured my sight, my world, my self...