I get new clients all the time, but not often ones that ask for hard play right from the start. That is unusual, at least when they are serious. I usually advise them to start more gently – hard play is very hard in my book, and not everyone can handle it.
But this guy was different. He wanted a kidnap scene. He also wanted it to be as realistic as possible. And he was prepared to pay.
I explained what a realistic kidnap scene might entail, mostly in an attempt to test his resolve, perhaps even to make him think again. But nothing I said persuaded him to change his mind. He wanted a hard kidnap scene.
Fine. Some like it hot.
I took some details and said that I would be in touch to talk through what I could offer after a week or so – I’m a busy woman, and I can’t just drop everything for a real time session that takes me away from the usual places I work. He seemed to understand and we left it at that.
I love kidnaps. I could feel myself tingling with anticipation, thinking of all the ways a serious scene could go.
The most important thing about a kidnap is that it is fundamentally a mindfuck. People assume it is about captivity or pain or fear, and all those things are important., but it is really about the mind. Without a mindfuck, a kidnap would just be a simple roleplay scene – interesting, but nothing really heart stopping. So they key to this would be to really twist his mind until he is begging for mercy, then twist some more. I’d forgotten how much fun a good mindfuck could be.
So what would I need?
Firstly, I would need Mistress Serena. A kidnap could get rough, and another pair of hands always helps. Besides, her deliciously evil imagination is always a pleasure to work with.
Secondly, forcing a male to do things is a lot easier if you can scare the shit out of him, and that is so much easier if you wave a gun in his face. A hard kidnap is much safer with gunplay, ironically, because the victim does not fight. And although the pistols I have are just replicas, there is no need to mention that to the victim. No one messes with a woman holding a gun.
Thirdly, a hard mindfuck needs sensitive information. Family, work, circumstances, anything that I can use to put pressure on the victim, to make them believe whatever I want them to believe. To put me in control of what goes through their tortured little mind.
A quick internet search with what I already knew about him got me where the guy lived, and a few more searches later I had his home phone number. Calling during the day, and pretending to be from the local council, I had a very pleasant conversation with the guy’s wife…
“Hello, I’m sorry to disturb you. My name is Caroline Jenkins from Bedford County Council. We are planning new services and shops in the area and we are interested in the needs of our residents. Would you have five minutes to talk about which local services would be really important to you?”
Of course she would. And she was happy to tell me her name, all about where she went, where she and her husband worked, what they did in their spare time, even the name of their dog. Such a lovely woman. And for me, a mine of useful information. I could feel a plot forming in my wickedly twisted mind.
Serena was, of course, always up for a good mindfuck. We talked over my ideas… the angry wife, the exposed and shamed husband who pays for sex, the wife’s revenge, to have him kidnapped, tortured and killed. Implausible? You might think so, but when two angry women have you naked at gunpoint, it’s surprising what a man will believe. Serena would play the scary crazy bitch who wanted to kill him as quickly as possible, while I would play the cold considered one, who pretends to chat to his wife as we torture him. The perfect mindfuck.
The takedown was easy.
I invited him to talk about the scene that he wanted. A quiet place, just a disused carpark I know, with no cameras. I was the only car there. Serena was hiding in the back seat, gun in hand.
He parked next to us, looking nervous. I smiled and waved him over to my car, opening the passenger door. He got in gingerly and closed the door behind him.
Right on cue, Serena popped up suddenly from the back seat and pressed the gun into his face. “Time to die fucker!” she shouted. His reaction was exactly what you would expect, pulling away from the gun in terror, squeezing against the side of the car, his face twisted in surprise and fear.
“Please! No, what… what are you? … Please!!” The colour literally drained out of his face.
Both of us laughed coldly. “This isn’t a game,” I said calmly. “If you piss her off, she will kill you.”
Serena cocked the trigger of the gun, pressing it hard against his sweating skin. “Let’s just waste him now and get it over with.”
He recoiled again in fear, “No! Please! I’ll do what you want!”
“Oh we don’t want anything, honey. We’re just here to do a job,” I explained casually.
“J… job? What job?” He squirmed as Serena kept the gun pressed hard into his face.
“For Kate, your wife,” I said watching him stare in disbelief. “Once she found out about you paying for sex thrills, she was really very angry. I’ve never seen her like that before.”
“You… you told her?” he asked, trembling.
“I know, I’m sorry. But I had to. You see Kate’s an old friend. I used to work with her at the library. I was at Gill’s wedding a few weeks back – didn’t you notice me?” I smiled sweetly, as though a conversation at gunpoint was the most normal thing in the world.
“Oh fuck,” he said to himself.
“Yes, oh fuck indeed. You’re really pretty fucking stupid. And your wife… well, she just wants you to pay.”
“Yeah, PAY LOSER!”, Serena shouted, twisting the barrel against his face, making him wince in pain and fear. “I wanna waste him now!”
“Shhh,” I said softly. “You can kill him later. But first we have a job to do, remember?”
“No, please, don’t kill me. Please, I’ll do what you want. Just don’t… please.” He was starting to panic, which was understandable given the look on Serena’s face – her crazy bitch look is just divine!
“Well, you can help us a little,” I said politely. “It would be very helpful if you can start undressing.”
His breath was heavy and terrified, and he stared at me for a second. “Undress? What?” he said confused.
“Remove your clothes,” I said plainly.
“Yeah, STRIP FUCKER!” Serena shouted. She really was the perfect crazy bitch.
His hands trembled as he reached up and started to unbutton his shirt. Both of us just grinned and watched him, Serena keeping the gun on his face all the time. He paused when he was topless, but I just looked down at his trousers and nodded, “Everything.”
Eventually he was sat bollock naked in the passenger seat, his clothes tossed on the back seat with Serena. “Hands behind the seat, please,” I said with icy politeness. He took his hands away from his crotch, passing them behind the seat, and I heard Serena close handcuffs around them.
“Wha.. what are you going to do with me?” he asked quietly, terrified.
“Whatever your wife wants,” I replied simply. “And one thing she doesn’t want is to hear any excuses,” I added, taking a roll of duct tape from Serena and tearing off a strip. “So that means no more chit chat.” I leant over and pressed the tape over his mouth, watching his eyes light up with more fear. “And because you are going to be taken to a very secret location for your… final moments, I’m afraid…” I said, tearing off another strip of tape, “we can’t have you seeing anything either.” I pressed the second strip firmly across his eyes, listening to his breathing becoming more and more panicked through his nose.
“So now we go on a little trip,” I said, starting the car.
“Yeah! And we can play a little game while we’re driving,” Serena said from the back seat, putting the gun back to his head. “She reached round with her other hand, and pulled his head back against the headrest, pinching his nose. “The game is called ‘quick or slow’,” she said sadistically into his ear. “You decide whether you want to die quick, with a bullet through the head, or slow, of suffocation.” He started to squirm on the seat, desperate to breathe and Serena piled on the pressure. “Just nod your head if you want to die quick,” she said loudly. The guy was terrified, shaking his head from side to side madly after a few seconds. “No? Decided to die slow?” Eventually he was thrashing about in desperation and she let him take a few breaths. “So what was that FUCKER? Quick or slow!?” She twisted the gun against his head again, and then grabbed his nose, laughing maniacally.
The torture continued for the whole journey, which must have taken 20 minutes or so. I was actually afraid the guy was going to piss himself in the seat, but Serena knew how to take a man to the edge and then drag him back, over and over again. It was one of the many skills I admired in her.
Our destination was a barn I use for various games.. It makes a nice change from a dungeon, and many people enjoy the idea of playing in a dirty barn rather than a nice clean dungeon. Mind you, as barns go, this one is unusually well equipped with chains, whips and restraints.
I parked outside and Serena finally let go of the guy’s nose. It looked like he was actually crying, based on the noises from his nose, but it’s hard to tell when the eyes and nose are taped. Let’s just say he was nicely softened up.
Lifting his arms up over the back of the chair, and grabbing him by the hair, I dragged him out of the car onto the floor, then across the floor on his knees into the barn itself. When we were in the middle of the space, I shoved him face down into the dirt and planted a spiked heel on his back.
“SPREAD THEM,” I shouted, and he nervously parted his legs. Serena had taken a very long spreader bar and was standing at his feet ready to attach it. “WIDER!” I yelled, until Serena could attach the cuffs, spreading him wide and vulnerable.
Then I lowered a chain from a thick wooden beam that ran across from one wall to the other. Attaching the hook to the centre of the spreader, I pulled on the loop of chain attached to the pulleys that let me hoist him with minimal effort. After a minute or so he was hanging upside down, his head just pressing against the floor, legs wide apart, hands still cuffed behind his back.
Neither of us said anything, we just grinning at each other. His breathing was still panicked. We walked around him slowly, deliberately, knowing he was listening desperately for any clue to what was coming next.
Suddenly I span round. “What was that?”
We both pretended to listen for a second or two. “Probably a rat,” Serena said. “There are some fucking enormous ones round here.”
“There! In the corner! Shit it’s massive – quick, shoot the fucker!!” Of course there was nothing there.
Grinning, Serena took a firecracker from her pocket and put it into the barrel of the replica pistol, lighting the touchpaper. She pointed the gun vaguely away from herself, smiling. The cracker went of with a surprisingly loud BANG, leaving a trail of blue smoke drifting out of the barrel.
“Fuck, missed the bastard,” she spat. Then she crouched down to the guy, poking the gun barrel into his face again, letting him smell the smoke. “Don’t worry loser, when I waste you I won’t miss,” she said coldly. If he had any earlier doubts about whether the guns were real, he didn’t now.
Taking out my phone, I pumped up the volume, crouched down and took a picture. The loud sound of the “click-click” that the camera app made caused him to jump and try to look towards me.
“Not a bad shot,” I said. “Let’s see whether Kate approves.”
I heard his breathing change again as I made a few beeps on the keypad, evidently sending someone a message. His wife, he guessed. Strange how that simple thought was so stressful for him. Actually I was sending a note to Serena, whose phone was muted. She grinned at me as she continued to pace around our naked victim. Then after a minute or so she just sent a message back to me, causing my phone to “bee-boop” loudly.
“Ah, she likes it!” I said loudly. “Obviously a woman who appreciates our talents,” I said to Serena who laughed loudly in response. “So let’s see what she wants, shall we?” I let him hear me keying another message and send it. After a few seconds, Serena messages me back. “Hmmm,” I said. “It looks like she wants us to be creative.”
Serena came over, “What did she say?”
She just says, “Make him suffer. Show me what you can do.”
“Hmmm. What on earth can we possibly do?” Serena asked, amused. “I’ve never made a man suffer before.” We both laughed loudly and watched him struggle and twist, dangling helpless.
“Start with this,” I said, passing her a particularly vicious spiked ball clamp. “That should get a reaction. I’ll video it and see what she thinks.”
Serena grinned and walked over to the guy, whose balls were at a conveniently accessible height. She grabbed his sack, twisting and shoving the balls into the jaws of the clamp. He jumped i surprise and tried to get away, but of course it was hopeless. Serena quickly tightened the clamp until she heard him moan, then she stopped. “Time to start filming,” she said.
“Rolling,” I laughed back.
She gave the screw on the clamp two whole turns. The guy screamed into his gag, doubling up with pain and swinging and thrashing about, hanging from the spreader. Serena stepped back a little to let him dance with pain while I was, supposedly, filming the whole thing. I was actually just watching and laughing sadistically.
It took several minutes before the pain levelled off and he could hang without jerking around like a madman. When he settled into his hell, I calmly said, “That made a good clip, I’ll send it to Kate and see whether she likes it.” A few more beeps and I had supposedly sent her a message. Serena replied quickly.
“She likes it,” I said proudly. “But she wants more.” The guy growled loudly in helpless objection.
“More of what?” Serena asked innocently.
“Dunno. Hold on,” I said, sending another message. Serena replied quickly. “Fuck me, the woman is a sadist,” I laugh. “She just says, ‘I want another twist of that clamp'”. Down on the floor, the guy was shaking his head frantically, no, no, no.
“Sure, whatever she wants,” Serena said darkly, standing next to the guy again and caressing his tortured balls. “Are you filming?” I said I was. “This is probably going to be quite painful,” she said sweetly. “I do hope you enjoy it.” She stroked his tortured balls gently in the jaws of the clamp, listening to her victim snort and puff from the pain he was already enduring, terrified at what was about to happen.
Suddenly she twisted the clamp. He made a hellish scream, even louder than before, smashing his head against the floor and causing himself to swing violently around on the chain from above. Serena just grinned and laughed at him. “I’m really enjoying this,” she said. “I’m so glad we didn’t waste him earlier. We could torture him for days like this!”
Slowly the swinging stopped and I pretended to stop filming. “Just got to send that to Kate. I bet she loves it,” I said. We exchanged fake messages and my phone beeped with Kate’s reply. I laughed out loud. “Just remember he deserves it, she says. And she wants to talk.”
“Sure, give her a call,” Serena said.
I actually phone my own number at the office and hear the recorded message, but of course the guy had no idea.
“Kate? Paris. Hi. Yeah. So what do you think of the show so far?” I laughed.
“Thanks. Yeah that’s him still groaning in the background. Annoying isn’t it? I’ll get my friend to sooth him.”
I gave Serena a look. She kicked the guy in the back of the head, shouting, “Shut the fuck up, loser!”
“Yes, it’s gotta be absolute agony. The clamp just keeps chewing on the balls until it’s removed, and well, you didn’t mention removing it.” I laughed again.
“Sure, happy to leave him for a couple of hours. No, that won’t be a problem. I mean it’s not like he’s going to need his balls ever again,” I burst out laughing. “Yes sure. Well, look, there’s a pub round the corner. We can go there and relax for a while, and talk over how you want us to finish him. Yes sure. So about ten minutes I guess? I’ll call you when we get there. Yes. Bye.”
I squatted down close to his head. “That looks very painful,” I said with mock sympathy. “I imagine you’re regretting betraying your wife now, aren’t you?” He just continued to moan and snort into his gag, his body now covered in sweat.
“So anyway, we’re going to let you hang there for a while.” That made him grunt and shake his head. “Just an hour or two. I’m sure you won’t mind waiting.” Again he shook his head and moaned into the gag. “We just want to discuss how to finish things off with Kate. She has some ideas. You never know, maybe she will just want it quick – a bullet to the head? Though she may want things to be a little slower. Some women do.” I tried to sound unconcerned about his obvious horror. “But anyway, we’ll be back soon and tell you all about it.”
We left him hanging and moaning, getting into the car and driving away.
There really was a pub just down the road, and we had several glasses of wine, chatting about all sorts of things, all the time aware that our victim was suffering and waiting for our return with dread. There is a particular pleasure in relaxing while someone else is suffering, at your mercy.
We stayed for about an hour and a half, finally driving back to the barn. He was still hanging there. Quieter now, perhaps exhaustion or maybe he was just resigned to his impending doom?
“Did you miss us, fucker?” Serena shouted. “Can’t wait to end all that pain?” She kicked him in the head again. “So we’ve got some instructions from your lovely wife.” He reacted, breathing more desperately. “And there’s good news and bad news.” She laughed with her crazy bitch laugh and squatted down close to his head. “So the good news is that we do get to waste you – nothing I hate more than catching a man and then not being able to kill the fucker.” She banged the side of his head with the pistol. “Hey, you paying attention?” Of course he was – he was panicking, you could tell, with a mixture of tears and snot being sucked in and out of his nose. “Unfortunately,” she said loudly, “the bad news is that she wants us to make it quick.”
“But at least it means we can go back to the pub?” I suggested, amused.
“I’d rather waste him slow. That house wine was shit. Can’t I just shoot his dick off first?” Standing up, she pushed the barrel of the gun into his clamped ball sack. The pain must have been searing, and he bucked and whined into his gag, trying to beg her not to.
“No you can’t”, I said firmly.
“Awww… why not?” she said, in a girly voice.
“Because I’m filming it, and we said we’d finish him quickly as she wants.”
“But you don’t have to film when I blow his dick apart. Oh come on Paris, it’ll be fun.” She twisted the gun barrel against his tortured balls and you could hear him screaming with pain and fear.
“Jees, you’re no fucking fun.”
“You can shoot him through the eyeball if you want, though.”
“Hey! Deal. Let’s do it. Get him down!”
By now he was absolutely shitting himself.. I ran the chain hoist down until his upper body lay on the floor face up, with his legs still chained up in the air.
“That should be enough,” I said, walking ominously over to his head. “So this is the end,” I said down at him, kicking the side of his head gently. Predictably he started shaking his head and screaming insanely into the gag. “Anything final you’d like to say to your wife?” I said. “Go ahead, she’ll be watching this video later tonight.” Of course all he could do was cry pathetically and dribble through his nose.
“Awww, ain’t that sweet,” Serena said sarcastically. “I think he’s begging for mercy. Well TOO LATE FUCKER,” she screamed.
“Hold him,” she said, and I pinned his face to the floor with a spiked shoe across his mouth. She lit another firecracker and placed it on the floor just above his head. Then she took the gun and pressed the barrel hard against one of his taped eyeballs. I could hear him screaming and begging into the sole of my shoe as we both waited for the cracker to explode, grinning at each other.
He jerked with the shock of the noise and at the same moment a stream of piss dribbled down his stomach. I took my shoe off his face and watched him, his mind obviously screaming with confusion. Neither Serena nor I said a word, just watching him for a minute, maybe two.
When I thought he was finally capable of paying attention, I crouched down to speak.
“And THAT is how you do a hard kidnap scene,” I said softly. I let that sink in for a while. “And next time you visit a professional and she advises you to think again about a scene, take it seriously. GOT THAT?”
He didn’t move for a while, his breathing slowing now. Finally he nodded.
“Good. Your clothes are in the corner. These are the keys to your cuffs. You’re in the middle of nowhere, and you’re walking home. Your wife knows nothing.”
I dropped the keys on his chest. It would be a struggle, but he could release himself.
Serena and I then walked to the car, laughing.
A mindfuck is just awesome when done properly.