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The Time I Kidnapped a Stranger

Q: What's the wildest thing I've ever done?

Well, of all the tales of my sexual misadventures the one that elevates eyebrows most rapidly is probably my story about abducting someone I’d just met. I tied them up in the back of my car, drove them to my flat, and then kept them captive overnight for the purposes of torture and sexual violation.

Before the police are dispatched to commit me to a similar fate I should point out that this kidnapping was entirely consensual. In fact it was probably more her idea than mine. The kidnapping also did not take place in some darkened alley, isolated moorland, or other quiet spot chosen so that no one could hear my victim scream. Instead it took place in a Waitrose car park near Cirencester in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon. Any screams of resistance would have quickly got the attention of a wide selection of bemused shoppers.

Alice (my ‘victim’) had instructed me on the best place to park; an isolated corner near the recycling bins. Well at least it had looked isolated on google street view, but those pictures had been taken in summer when the trees were all leafy. It was March when I reversed my car between those white lines, and as I looked out through my windscreen the spot seemed desperately exposed.

‘Oh well’ I thought, as I switched off the engine, ‘Here goes nothing!’

I locked my car behind me and wandered out towards the hulking glass lego brick of Waitrose. The plan was to have a pre-kidnapping chat over coffee first, just so we could assess each other for any dangerous levels of insanity. Alice and I had been talking for a couple of weeks now, including on the phone, and we had already reassured each other that we sounded sane at least. From the slightly philosophical slant to Alice’s okcupid profile I was initially worried that she might turn out to be a dreamy hippy with her head lost in the clouds. However, our chats had reassured me that she was intelligent, switched on, and prepared to ask deeper questions about life, even if they didn't have easy answers.

‘I’m on my way’ messaged Alice as I crossed the car park. I sat myself on a bench near the entrance to Waitrose, watching the automatic glass doors slide back and forth as empty shopping trolleys rattled outwards, weighted with cornucopiae of luxuries and essentials drawn from across the earth. One was pushed by a dead-eyed woman who appeared to be in her late thirties. It also contained her sproglet, who writhed in his cage-like trolley-seat and wailed. This woman’s expression did not suggest amazement at the wondrous achievements of globalisation contained her cart, but rather a quiet wish that the end times would come sooner rather than later.

A man sat down next to me, hunched between too large shopping bags. He began staring at his phone. I adjusted my overcoat and tried not to look conspicuous given that I felt overdressed for afternoon shopping, nor holding any shopping bags or other shopping related paraphernalia.

Then Alice appeared bounding down the nearby steps, her mouth stretched into a grin and barely a hint of nerves showing in her sparkling green eyes. I was relieved to see that she looked like she did in her profile pictures. Her long mousey hair bobbed gently with each step. Her figure was verging on the petite, and a warm looking cardigan hugged her chest. Her short skirt gave way above the knees to black tights encasing a pair of thoroughly graspable legs.

All in all she looked quite kidnappable.


We got a coffee in the Waitrose cafe. I think it was safe to say we were the only couple there on a ‘first date’. It’s possible I am underestimating the sex lives of the various grey haired senior citizens who shared that space with us. Perhaps they were just shielding their tindering behind copies of the Daily Telegraph or were rubbing walking sticks slowly against each other’s thighs when no one was looking… thankfully I wasn’t paying close enough attention.

Alice was cheerful and inquisitive and after brief small talk about jobs, science and what it was like to be temporarily living with her parents, the conversation quickly turned to the business at hand...

“So do you know lots about rope stuff?” She asked, a little too loudly.
“Ha, yes I’ve picked up a few things, don’t yet know how to do advanced things like suspension, but I can tie a few harnesses and other fun predicaments.”

Discussion of ropes and BDSM continued at a lowish volume, but I remained concerned that some of our neighbours might have their hearing aids turned up to high.

“Yeah, I think some people are kind of conflicted about the whole being feminist and into submission thing” said Alice “But I guess I am here so I can't be that conflicted.”

“Yeah, but I think be submission can be perfectly feminist so long as you’re making independent choices about what you want to explore.” I said.

Yeah?” said Alice.

“Sure, I think if what feminism is trying to achieve is genuine equality for women, including freedom of choice, then why shouldn’t a woman feel free to choose what sexual experiences she wants to have?”

“I suppose the choice thing makes sense, though I'm not always sure everyone's choosing for the right reasons.”

“Do you really need a reason if it’s what works for you though? I mean, I think it’s also fair for someone to find the idea of a man dominating a woman to be offensive, even if it’s consensual, because there’s such an awful history of male violence against women that some people might see BDSM as somehow trivialising it.” I rambled “So, I try to be careful who I tell about this stuff, I’m not sure being a man who dominates women is an identity one should wear too openly out of respect for that. But behind closed doors if you want to be tied up and I want to tie you up then, equality wise, isn’t everyone a winner?”

“Yeah, I might be more offended by it if it didn’t also turn me on? I don't know.”

“Mmm. In some ways you could think of the submissive as actually the consumer, or person being serviced, and the person 'in control' as the service provider. It’s a shared experience but the sub doesn’t really have to take any initiative, it’s mostly the top’s responsibility to make the plans and learn the skills needed. The trick is controlling the submissive's experience and pleasure while simultaneously making it seem like you’re actually using them for your pleasure.”`

Alice nodded while sipping her coffee. Supermarket noises drifted into the cafe: the rattle of trolleys, the sporadic beeps of the checkouts, the hum of chiller cabinets. These sounds combined into kind of low roar, like the background echos at a public swimming pool.

“Have you finished your tea?” asked Alice
“Yup” I replied
“Good. Well I’m ready to go when you are!” she said
“Cool, let’s make a move then!” I said, caught slightly off guard and wondering to myself if I would ever truly be ready for what we had planned.


So a hot scenario might be.. We meet and have a drink, we leave and you can order me into the boot of your car, take me to your flat where you can do whatever you like but I'd love it if you could spank me and hit me with a belt or similar…

This was Alice’s message a few days before our meeting.

One slight problem with this plan was that my car was tiny and didn’t have a boot. Or at least it didn’t have a boot large enough to fit someone in without them suffering severe discomfort or permanent spinal reconfiguration. My solution was to put the back seats down...  

“In you get!” I said. I held Alice’s arm and gave her a gentle push, but she didn’t need any encouragement as she clambered in through my back doors, giggling. 

Easiest kidnapping ever.

I followed her in and produced some rope from the footwell. I started to tie around her wrists, but kept looking up to scan the car park and check no one was coming to arrest me. My car really wasn’t designed for discrete kidnappings. I should invest in a white van someday, or something with tinted windows. Anyway, as I was cinching the final knot to hold together her wrists I looked up to scan around again.

“Shit!” I said out loud
“What?” asked Alice
“Someone’s coming!”

Slowly but surely a dark haired lady was pushing a heavily laden shopping trolley towards the one SUV that was parked near us. This women appeared to be in her later years but was clearly fit enough to push a fully laden trolley to the most isolated corner of the car park. The side door of my car was still open so we couldn’t both hide without looking suspicious.

“You hide and I’ll try and look natural.” I said to Alice as the old lady approached.

Alice lay flat in the back of my car with various bits of rope strewn around her while I slid out of the back door and then leaned against the car casually, opening my phone and staring it intensely. Through the corner of my eye I watched as the lady slowly reached her car and opened the boot. Alice watched me from where she lay half-bound, grinning and stifling her laughter. Firstly, and with time defying languidity, the old lady lifted a bag of vegetables into her boot… then some bottles of lemonade… then a collection of soup tins…

My focus remained fixedly on my phone screen.

...then some toilet paper… then some cereal boxes… then a bag of chilled goods…

I checked my emails and paced up and down a little, because standing still had become too awkward for me.

...then a bag of potatoes… then some bottles of red wine…

There was no way I didn’t look suspicious was there? All the lady had to do was wander over into the next parking space and peer into my back windows. Fortunately she was occupied moving an infinite number of individual items into her boot. This inefficiency an unexpected outcome of the new plastic bag tax.

…then a multipack of crisps…and finally her trolley was empty!

“Ok she’s just taking back her trolley” I relayed to Alice who was getting bored and was trying to poke her head up from behind the front seats to get a look at what was happening.
“Quick get down she’s coming back again!”

“I think she saw me...” Alice said as the lady’s car pulled away.
“Better get you out of here before she calls the cops!” I joked, a little nervously

Now we were alone again I removed Alice’s boots and tied her feet together as well. I tied the ropes holding her hands to the metal runners of the front passenger seat.

“For the full experience shall I tape up your mouth?" I asked "Or do you want to be able to talk during the journey?”
“Up to you.” Replied Alice
“Tape it is!”
I wrapped non-adhesive bondage tape around her mouth and head; around and around, covering the bottom of her face almost completely.
“Can you say ‘stop the car’?” I asked
“Tttrrmmmpp ddd aaaarr” was the noise that emerged
“Ok, good enough.” I said, deciding that any distressed noises she tried to make would be reason enough to pull over.

Now I had a stranger tied up and gagged in the back of my car. At this point any cars pulling up beside me or any pedestrians walking by could have easily glanced in, seen that I had a girl tied up in my car, and been rightfully alarmed. In anticipation of this problem I had brought a sheet with which to cover my victim. Unfortunately once my hostage was sheet-enshrouded it made it look like I was transporting a dead body in the back of my car instead of a live one.

Not a dead body. I promise.

Still, I decided the sheet-covered-dead-body-look drew less attention than the tied-up-and-gagged-hostage look, so I left her like that, got in the driver’s seat, and told my sat-nav to guide me back to Oxford.

“What have you gotten yourself into?”  I said to my sheet covered hostage.

She quietly tugged on her ropes. I calmly drove my car.

It is an odd sensation driving a car with a person tied up in the back of it. Driving is an activity that benefits a certain amount of calm concentration, and I like to think I did a good job of focusing on the task at hand. We pulled away from Waitrose and I navigated the series of roundabouts that took us out of Cirencester and into the rolling English countryside. Despite my professional focus on not crashing or running anyone over, there was still a voice in the back of my head that was silently screaming “OMFG there’s a girl tied up in the back of your car! How the shit did this happen!”

Once on a straight stretch of road I decided some kidnappy banter was in order.

“Well someone’s in trouble now!” I said “What am I going to do with you I wonder?”

These was silence from under the sheet, so I continued “You’re going to be my little slut to play with. I’m sure you’ll make a great little fuck-toy when I get you back to mine. Once I’ve beaten you into shape a bit that is!”

The continued silence from the boot made my words feel creepier than they usually do. I’d found gagging her really sexy at the time, but the resultant quietness made it hard to gauge if my banter was going down well, or if Alice might be developing terrifying doubts while left alone under a sheet with her thoughts.

“...So much trouble!” I trailed off

We drove along in silence for quite a while as I focused on roundabouts and slip roads and overtaking lorries on the dual carriageway. A bit of me started to worry that Alice might have fallen asleep and I feared she might react with horror on reawakening to find herself tied up in the back of a stranger's car.

“You ok back there?” I asked

I wasn’t a hundred percent sure if that was meant to be a ‘mhmm’ or a ‘hmm?’...

“You ok? Not fallen asleep?”

“Mmm mmnh” came the response followed by further silence.


The journey mostly passed without incident. I made sure I stuck to the 50 mile an hour limit while passing the Swindon police station, as it would have been a very bad time to get pulled over for speeding. I was fairly sure the only law I was actually breaking was that my passenger wasn’t wearing a proper seatbelt, but it was still a situation that could take quite a lot of explaining.

Eventually I reached the Oxford bypass, almost back to my lair. Unexpectedly the sat-nav on my phone told me to take the next exit. I had not been using this sat nav for long and I had yet to develop a healthy skepticism over its advice. Rather than thinking ‘No that’s not the way to my flat’, I instead thought ‘Oh, this must be a new shortcut!’ and I obeyed the infernal machine. I quickly found myself in the quiet suburbs of North Hinksey going in entirely the wrong direction. Then I remembered I had just told my sat nav to take me to ‘Oxford’ and not to my actual address. “Crap, just need to turn around” I muttered to myself. North Hinksey seemed surprisingly busy with traffic so I pulled off into a cul-de-sac and attempted a three point turn. The road was really quite narrow and that was when a local pushing a wheel-barrow started approaching along the pavement.

With a bit of kerb scraping, and a burst of acceleration that I didn’t know my tiny car was capable of, I zoomed away from the peaceful village of suspicious onlookers and rejoined the Oxford bypass. A few minutes later I reversed into a parking space in front of my flat, heart beating at a confused pace. My parking space was also not as private as I would have liked it to be; this kidnapping lark was a tricky business! God knows how anyone kidnaps anyone in real life. I unlocked the front door then opened my boot. I did not want to take the risk of trying to carry a tied up Alice into my flat; getting dropped on the floor was not on her list of kinks, so I untied her feet while keeping her under the sheet. Next I untied the rope that I had fastened to the front seat, then hurriedly led her across the driveway by her bound hands and through my front door.

I locked the door behind us while she hovered in my hallway, hands tied and not knowing what to do with herself. I led her up the stairs and into my bedroom, pulling her along by the rope around her wrists. I could feel her wet cunt through her tights as I forced her onto my bed, leaning over her I muttered into her ear “You’re mine now slut.”

I took my time undressing her, untying and re-tying her limbs. I tied her spread-eagled and face down on my bed, ass exposed; I had promised her the belt and the belt she would get! I stood over her, still fully clothed, and felt my belt gleefully sliding through the loops of my jeans. Folding it in half I left it resting across my hostage's shoulder blades and ran my hands down her back and up the slope of her delightfully smooth ass. I made the first spank a hard one and she gasped, the solitary red hand-print stood out well against her white skin, and it invited more….


Alice took her spanking like the perfect pain slut she aspired to be. My hands beat down on her ass until it was wrapped in that familiar red glow, a newly primed canvas, ready for painting with the heavy brush strokes of my belt? No. First I thought it could use some further texturing with my flogger. The pale skin of her back and shoulders was quickly patterned with a multitude of thin red lines, which spelled out words the most primitive of languages... a code that read: ‘Mine!’

My flogger did it’s stingy work until, having satisfied myself with the sounds of her whimpers, I finally retrieved my belt from where Alice had let it slip to. I let the leathery folded end of it slip gently over Alice’s body, watching as her blushing skin twitched in fear of its touch. I flipped the belt up into my other hand, aimed, and swiped it down cruelly. Rewarded with my favourite slapping noise and its accompanying groan. I beat her furiously with my belt until bruises started to show; every good meal should be well tenderised before consumption after all.

I removed my trousers and my hard cock forced its way out of my pants. I crouched in front of where she lay, arms tied out either side of me, and taking hold of her hair I lifted her face off my sheets. After slapping her cheeks a little I ran my thumb down to her lips and she began sucking it eagerly. Still grasping her hair I pulled her head backwards and her jaw downwards, and then slowly I inserted my cock into her mouth, which she took in even more hungrily than my thumb.

Alice wriggled against her ropes, frustrated by her powerlessness as I fucked her face and my balls danced against her chin. My spare hand found my belt to lash her with from this new angle, just to add injury to insult. After I’d had my fun with her mouth I let her head sink back into the sheets. I ran my hands down over her abused body to find her soaking-wet cunt. Sheathing myself appropriately I eased myself onto the bed between her splayed legs and watched the rope digging into her ankles as she continued to struggle.

“Do you want me to fuck you slut?” I asked, still toying with her.
“Yes!” She groaned
“Yes Sir!” I spanked her again, a motion that was now almost automatic.
“Yes Sir! Please fuck me Sir!” She said
I placed my right hand firmly on her shoulder as I entered her, slowly at first, pushing deep.
“Do you like being my little fuck toy?” I whispered in her ear
“Yes sir” she said, teeth clenching as I begin to fuck her harder.

I grasped her by the hair again and used her just as I knew she wanted to be used.


It has been remarked by some that it takes me a long time to cum, but I never know what baseline I am compared to. I can’t remember how long I took with Alice, perhaps the hours of building excitement foreshortened the main performance, but I still remember being very sweaty by the end of it.

Well I say the end of it…

“What? You don’t think I’m done with do you?” I said to her as she lay there bound and exhausted. From my bag of tricks I produced a long white object with a bulbous end and a power cord… I plugged it into the wall and switched it on. Alice whimpered as she heard the sound of my magic wand vibrating frantically…

“The night is young! And there’s nowhere for you to go after all!”


The End

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