The abduction of Catherine Parker [kittystar & Mr. D]

[Mr. D]

Charles Anderson watched her through the branches of the bush he was hiding behind, his heart racing as she passed just inches away from him. There was no way she could see him in the dark, even though she was so close he could touch her by just stretching out an arm. Touch her he would, he would do much more than just touch her, indeed. But he had to wait, just a little bit more. Considering how many years he had waited, he should be able to hold back for a few more seconds.

Catherine Parker - he could even remember the day she was born. Remember how proud she was after her first day in school. Remember the blush in her face when she told him about her first period. He was her dads best friends, and during the years he had grown quite close to her. She had put a big deal of trust in him as well, telling him secrets she would never dare to tell her father. When she needed to get something of her chest, he was the one she turned to.

However, as she grew older and started to develop more female forms, his feelings for her started to change. He knew that he had to have her, he knew that he would take her. Their friendship would not stand in the way for his desires. And in some strange way, the fact that she truly trusted him made this hole endeavor so much more exiting.

It was some hours past midnight, and everything was quiet, the narrow street deserted. She was walking home from some party, and judging from her fumbling steps, she was drunk. The streetlight she just passed under was dead - he had thrown stones at it until it broke. She didn't seem to mind, probably feeling safe so close to home. But it was close to home, close to heart, that the biggest dangers lurked - in more than one way. That is a lesson she will learn soon, he thought as he sneaked up from his hiding place.

One second she was looking up at the beautiful star filled sky, thinking about the party. The next second the stars disappeared, and everything just turned black, as an old, dirty sack was pressed down over her head. A horrible smell of old, dried in sweat filled her nose. A pair of strong hands grabbed her wrists, easily pulling her arms up behind her back, and through the thick cloth of the hood she could hear a male voice whisper "Be a good girl and keep your mouth shut, Catherine. This won't hurt, I promise."

 

[kittystar]

"Cath! Cath! This is who I was telling you about! This is Johnny!" Jennifer Williams pulled a tan blonde boy in front of her. He looked similar to Rocky from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Catherine Parker's long eyelashes fluttered as she laughed. Under normal circumstances, she could have been sweet and polite. These were not normal circumstances. She had gulped down so many screwdrivers it was unreal. She lost count of the shots she had taken about ten shots ago. In her best Tim Curry voice she began belting out a tune from the movie. "I've been making a man with blond hair and a tan. And he's good for relieving my tension. I'm just a Sweet Transvestite from Transexual, Transylvania." At transexual, Johnny walked off. This sent Catherine into a giggling fit. When she was finished she looked up at Jennifer's annoyed face. "What? What, Jen? How could I date him? He's not even a Rocky Horror fan!" Jennifer shook her head. "You're a mess. Go home."

Catherine pulled her brown eyebrows together. "Fine. Love you too." She ran a hand through her platinum blonde hair and grabbed her jacket. She had recently dyed her hair blonde, much to her father's chagrin. She loved it though. She straightened out her short jean skirt and pulled the northface jacket over her low-cut pink shirt. She stumbled out of the house and headed the block to her house. She didn't have a license yet even though she turned 16 three months before. She knew coming home drunk was probably going to get her into trouble, but she didn't care. She just didn't want to be at Jennifer's anymore.

"I was feeling done in, couldn't win. I'd only ever kissed before. I thought there's no use getting into heavy petting. It only leads to trouble and seat wetting..." In the middle of her rendition of Toucha Toucha Touch Me, a bag was thrown over her face. She squirmed and squealed. What was happening? She heard a voice. It sounded so familiar. She struggled to remember, but her intoxicated state didn't allow that. Instead, she stopped making noises. She felt the alcohol going to her head. At first she thought she had to vomit, then she passed out.

 

[Mr. D]

With her lifeless body hanging in his arms, he couldn't help to laugh up at the star spangled, dark sky. This was just to easy! Only sixteen and already drinking herself ruthlessly drunk? He had done a bad job in helping her father raise her, but it seemed that would only be to his advantage.

It was easy for him to lift up her on his shoulder, her arms and legs hanging and dangling like from a doll. After all, a doll is just what she was to him - something you played with for your own pleasure, and threw away when you got bored off, he thought as he carried her body towards his car. No one asked themselves what the doll thought about the game, and neither would he. The only difference being that this doll would struggle, but that would just make the game so much more fun to play.

She was easy for him to carry - Charles was 6' 3'' tall, and his body was almost in as good shape as it was back when he played soccer in college. Off course that was a long time ago now - his short black hair had strays of grey in it now. Catherine had called his blue eyes "warm and happy" some time. He doubted that she would agree today.

When he got to the car, he dumped the body in the trunk. As he drove away, he pictured her lying nude on the floor, exhausted and sweaty, cum dripping from her lips. Soon that dream would be reality.

- - -

When she slowly started to regain her consciousness, she found herself lying on a cold and wet floor. Her jacket was gone, and her skin was covered with goosebumps. The rough floor under her felt like concrete, and her whole body hurt - her arms, her back, her head. What ever had happened to her while she was passed out, she had not been handled with care. Her eyes were covered with a tight blindfold - everything was dark, black as a night without any stars.

Something was pressed into her mouth, some strange piece of cloth. She couldn't remove it with her hands - she found them locked behind her back with what felt like a pair of metal handcuffs. Not the thin type that cops used to have, but something thicker and heavier, something one could imagine a medieval prisoner wearing. As she moved her tongue around to try to press it out, she realized two things. First, the cloth was a pair of panties, and judging from the cold breeze she felt under her skirt, it was her own. Second, they were not only wet because of her saliva. They were soaked in something else as well, something sticky with a salty taste.

Even before she had had time to take the whole situation in - to process the fact that she was lying blindfolded and cuffed on some concrete floor, good knows where, in the hands of some random stranger, good knows who - she heard steps. A pair of steady boots was walking over the floor towards here. Someone were standing right next to her, someone was bending down over her, even with the blindfold on she could sense his presence.

"Cath, sing me the rest of the song. I want to hear the chorus." a voice whispered into her ear. The voice was so familiar, it sounded like he was whispering just to distort it. She knew this man, and he knew that she knew.