"Putting Caroline away" proved to be the hardest thing I'd done so far. She was hot and had been denied an orgasm for too long already. I could smell the musky aroma of her damp cunt even through the confines of the chastity briefs. She continued to look at me pleadingly as I lead her towards the cell and when I stopped to pull back the bolts, she rubbed her leather covered crotch up and down my leg invitingly. As the briefs transmitted no sensation to her covered cunt I can only assume that it was for my benefit.

In any case it was working! It took every ounce of willpower in me not to take her then and there. Instead I somehow forced her inside and fastened her to the wire. She made a little moaning sound behind the gag as I turned to leave.

"Soon enough sweetheart," I managed to say though my head was pounding, "We'll see to that real soon."

I spent about an hour checking the papers she'd signed. Most were trivial, notes to institutions informing them of address changes, postcards to friends. Some were more important, a note to the police about her stolen car, the transfer of her bank account to Seattle. Although many and varied the one thing that they had in common was that they formed what an investigator would call an "audit trail." It wasn't perfect but it was the best I could do.

The big problem was that I couldn't do anything that involved her turning up in person. Things like applying for a Washington state drivers license would need a woman to stand in line for a couple of hours. Of course in fiction it is easy, the evil organization of white slavers have entire departments dedicated to erasing "volunteers" past lives. Female accomplices are ten a penny, all officials can be blackmailed or bribed. Reality though was less perfect, still I was happy with what I had achieved. There was now a large body of evidence which pointed to her having moved to a run down suburb of Seattle. The area was well known as a red light district. The sort of place a pretty young thing could disappear without trace.

Once I was finished I placed a call to one of my editors. Just how badly did he need the latest news on the new Windows release? Obviously enough to pay for a flight to Seattle, an extra couple of calls to sign up for a Microsoft seminar and it was done. A legitimate reason to go to the north west and spread my little seeds.

Still it left me with a couple of days to get ready, so I busied myself with a couple of minor articles whilst watching Caroline get steadily more frustrated.

After a while I found myself just watching the screen and daydreaming. One image that had always appealed to me was of the slave girl as lapdog. Something like a harem slave sitting patiently at her master's feet ready to serve his every whim. I'd had a little leather outfit made for just that purpose; a small pushup bra that left the nipples free for clamps matched with a tight pair of side laced bikini briefs that barely covered anything. A leather bondage belt was connected to a number of strong thin chains which in turn were fastened to wrists and ankles by small gilded metal cuffs. A matching metal collar and leash completed the bondage elements though a metal and leather gag could be added if necessary. I looked at my watch, it was about an hour before the late screening of the X Files.

How nice it would be, I mused, to watch the show with a slave at my feet ready to serve me if the need arose. If she was good I may allow her to sleep chained to the foot of my bed. The image was so appealing I found myself hard again. With some regrets I turned off the monitor and reasserted my self control. Then I started to make preparations.

First up was a shower. I'd only washed Caroline the night before but the kind of things we did involved a lot of sweat and other excretions. I remembered her musky odor, by now she'd need to shower again. To save time I laid out the slavegirl outfit in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Next came suitable music.

I'm basically a Rock man, the Stones, Kiss, and Rush are my music of choice, but while we were together I'd done the "New Man" thing and pretended to like Sam's music. Sam was into classical, or at least so she claimed, but I've always had the suspicion that this was more for show than anything. I've noticed that models like to appear cultured, I suspect that it's an attempt to dump the bimbo image they get in the tabloids. She had bought a "Three Tenors" style disk of great operatic love songs that she used to play during sex. I smiled, if Caroline was as hot as I believed then the shower could prove interesting. I put the CD into the machine then went to collect the slave.

When I entered she seemed awfully keen, probably because she thought I'd come to fuck her and end the frustration. I let her keep thinking this while I removed the cuffs and strapped her arms behind her. Then I unlocked the chastity outfit. By now she was all aglow and opened her legs expectantly. For a girl three days into a kidnapping to be so keen to be fucked by her captor is perhaps a little odd. Yet Caroline seemed to have had very little sexual pleasure before I took her, and had been in a constant state of sexual frustration since. I looked into her eyes, saw the hunger and knew then that she was starting to become addicted. A few more frustrating weeks in the chastity outfit, unable to relieve herself and with her only pleasure coming when I decided and she would be broken.

For now I just smiled as she thrust her pussy towards me and mewed behind the gag. "Not yet slave," I said gently stroking her breast and finding the nipple hard and erect, "I don't fuck smelly bitches. You need a bath first." I could tell that wasn't what she needed NOW, but she bowed her head in acknowledgment. Naked but for gloves, boots and gag she waited patiently while I attached the leash and strapped on the blindfold.

I didn't bother with a hobble so it proved a quick and easy journey to the upstairs bathroom. Once again I removed the boots and blindfold but kept her gloved and gagged. Then I padlocked the leash to the ring before stripping off myself. I punched a button on my remote control and the hidden speakers started the buildup to a classic operatic aria. Then the tenor joined in his voice full of passion and heartbreaking emotion. I started small, deftly shampooing her hair as I had the night before, listening as she moaned with pleasure. All through this she was happy, no one in her situation would turn down a bath. After suitable warnings I unstrapped the gag so that I could remove all the old makeup from her face. She looked at me as I gently stroked her cheek. "Please." She whispered the edge of desperation in her voice. An idea came to me and I drew her naked body close feeling her hard nipples dig into my chest. "Soon," I said. She didn't fuss when I put the gag back. She seemed strangely subdued, both horny and melancholy. Time had come to warm her up. My roving hand moved on, gently stroking and caressing her helpless body. I cleaned parts in a random order, teasing her with my touch, listening as she moaned and caught her breath. Finally my hand drifted down, finding her pussy warm and very damp as I gently cleaned it. There was the suggestion of a fine stubble on her pubis and I wondered about the possibility of home electrolysis. I was careful that as I cleaned her pussy of the days accumulated juices I didn't up the sensation to a level she could find useful. She moaned in frustration as the heat in her crotch increased. I unfastened her elbows and started washing her back. She made a little mewing sound and as my hands slid forwards to caress her breasts and their erect nipples, hers drifted down to gently brush against my balls and the insides of my thighs. The message seemed clear, I wasn't the only one who could tease.

I let my hand hover round her abdomen then slide back to the silken folds between her legs. I was rewarded by the slick touch of her latex covered fingers on the head of my cock. Then we traded, finger on nub for thumb on head. It seemed like masturbation by proxy but it was also a big turn on. I soaped her down using handfuls of shower gel to make her body wet and slippery. She started to slide her body against mine making sure that the outside of her thigh slid up and down my steadily mounting erection. I gasped and started to caress her, one hand cupped her breast while the other slid down to finger her hot cunt. I started to nibble her neck between the gagstrap and her shoulder. She moaned then arched her back, fingers straining against the single imprisoning strap. I gasped as she started to work on my balls and thighs, carefully avoiding the shaft, denying me an orgasm as long as I denied hers. Above it all the tenor sang of loves lost and hearts broken in a mounting crescendo of emotion. Through it all I dimly wondered how long we could stay like that, how far we could push it while still keeping the other from release. Part of my mind had decided to take her right then and there against the shower wall, I even upped the pace a little, listening to her excited yelps as she came closer and closer to the edge. Then dimly I became aware of something else in the environment, something noisy, insistent, something cutting through even the vibrant music.

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