I drive past a cheap hotel, staking out my prey. Am I scared of getting caught? Of course. My heart is hammering painfully in my chest. I park the car, reach for my bag, check its contents once more β handcuffs, ball gag, gaffer tape, hessian sack.
Hands shaking with adrenaline, I take a swig of water and watch him pace. I roll my balaclava over my head, open the car door and walk up quietly behind him. Kidnapping is an increasingly common request in the world of BDSM , largely from wealthy men who are in their 40s or older.
It combines sensory deprivation, humiliation, bondage , power differentials and punishment into one heady fantasy, while often the captors wear leather or military uniforms to add to the larks. It falls into the category of consensual non-consent , or CNC: an intense exchange of power which results in the giddy exhilaration of surrendering control entirely to another human being.
Of course, those who engage in this kind of play must have long discussions beforehand about exactly what is expected and acceptable. He wanted to be tied down and brutally beaten before an audience, for some imagined crime. This I can do. Pete has paid me nothing short of a grand for his kidnapping. As a former member of the House of Commons, now in his seventies, he can afford it. Another key part of the negotiations was choosing a safe word. This ensures that both myself and the client stay safe during the roleplay, and we can stop whenever we want or need.
His pounding heart is making his shirt twitch. A woman is about to drive him to an unknown destination, strip him naked, then cane him until he bleeds. First I gaffer tape his ankles, making sure he can still walk, then I pull the bag far enough up his face to stuff the ball gag into his mouth.
