JASON Read online

  JASON

  by Candace Smith

  Copyright 2011 Candace Smith

  Published by Strict Publishing International

  Prelude

  If Jason had to pinpoint a time when he realized his tendencies had taken a sadistic turn, it would be the summer between high school and college. Before then, he had plenty of friends and had even accomplished a two year stint on the football team. At six-two and commanding a strong, lean build, the coach relied on him. With his black hair setting off striking violet blue eyes, he had enjoyed his choice of the always available… always willing… cheerleaders.

  Jason had turned down the football scholarship. In high school, his size enabled him to put a serious hurt to players on the opposing team. It was a bit of a rush to look at their mangled or unconscious bodies; not as much fun as his control over the cheerleaders, but still quite enjoyable. In college, he would not have the size advantage. Jason had absolutely no interest in the possibility of being injured himself, so he opted to take the scholastic scholarship instead.

  The college he had chosen was a state away from where his mother lived in bars and motel rooms. For a few months he had sent money back to her, but she never wrote or called to thank him, so he stopped. Two months later, she had managed to slur her way through a contemptuous phone call, reminding her son how ungrateful he was for the sacrifices she had made. Jason laughed at her, and he suggested she start charging for it instead of giving it away. That was the last time they spoke.

  As soon as he arrived at campus, he melded in with a group of students trying to orientate themselves to the various buildings. There was a saucy blonde with beautiful hazel eyes playing the guys, and Jason noted her trading phone numbers with at least three of them. He gave her a fake number, but dutifully smiled at her while he added her under new contacts on his cell phone.

  Jason watched her walking away. She was laughing, and her arm snaked through that of the smiling man next to her. Her tight jeans gripped a firm, bubbled booty, tightened impossibly small at the waist with a wide country belt. The waist was truly that small, as her ribcage shot up at an angle to widen and support generous breasts. Her legs were long and lean, and Jason could practically feel them gripped around his hips. Damn. Weird thing was, with all her flirting she did not seem to be a tramp. Jason finally figured out she had a naïve country girl way, and she did not comprehend that the city boys were taking her seductively playful flirting seriously.

  Looking back, he was astonished he had not been caught. In the beginning, he did not consider dropping twenty bucks on a disposable phone. He had actually called the girls from an account listed under his real name. Add to that, his pattern was consistently the same… other than increasing the physical demands he placed on them.

  Ah, Nicki; the country girl blonde with the lithe athletic body. Jason called her after he was certain she had already situated herself into a whirlwind social life and had dated at least two of the orientation fellows. He had followed them and knew she had not gone home with them. They were probably still waiting for the second ‘strike it rich’ date that Nicki never accepted.

  Friday night, she agreed to meet Jason at the mall and go to a movie. Apparently, she had learned the lesson about keeping her own transportation to escape in case things got too heavy. Later, if Nicki reported the incident, Jason would say that he waited and she never showed up. He would allude to his knowledge of her ‘filled dance card’ dating schedule, and state that he figured he had been stood up for a better opportunity.

  Jason watched her park, and while she turned to lock her car door, he snuck up behind her and clapped his hand over her mouth. Pulling her tightly against his chest, she had no opportunity to see him. The van he had rented was parked in the shadows. It was an unbelievable stroke of luck that no one had noticed him dragging the girl three rows back. By then, his adrenaline was pumping so hard that he was not considering the possibility of being seen.

  The van door was open and Jason felt the girl trembling against his body. She thrashed in panic and his hand muffled her screams. Nicki clawed at his gloved hand, and the arm wrapped under her breasts absorbed the terror of her panting breaths. He used that hand to grab the piece of duct tape he had prepared. It had a piece of cotton gauze that slipped between her teeth and it wrapped twice around her head.

  Nicki was terrified. She had merely been considering whether this Jason guy with the unusually intense stare was going to be a problem to ditch at the end of their date. Back home in Napier, she had her fun in high school. Now that she was in college, even though it was only an hour away in Jasper, she was intent on recovering her reputation with a more discreet and conservative approach. Most of her friends who opted to leave the farms for college, had headed out of state to bigger cities.

  As soon as she locked the car door, a leather glove covered most of her face. Another strong arm pulled her back against a broad chest, and she screamed and kicked her dragging feet while frantically searching the lot for her date or another rescuer. The people walking through the lot were facing the stores as they walked towards the mall.

  All too soon, she felt the metal lip of the floor of a van. The arm under her breasts loosened while the hand covering her mouth arched her back off balance. There was a ripping sound, and, for a brief second, the hand over her mouth was removed. Nicki inhaled a deep breath to scream, but before she could make a sound, a piece of cotton crammed into her mouth and was secured in place by tape wound to the back of her head. Her nails dug at the tight gag while she struggled.

  A black cloth bag was pulled over her head and sealed around her neck with another length of tape, and while her fingers tried to rip at the covering, the man pulled her inside the van. Oh, god. Oh, my god. Nicki’s long legs thrashed out to kick her attacker or bang against the sides of the van. The man sat her up, and Nicki felt his hand grip the back of her neck and push her head down to her knees. She shrieked behind the gag and the sack while he captured her wrists and secured them behind her.

  Jason was lost in the thrill of the capture. He felt himself filling with arousal while he inhaled the girl’s fear. The intense passion he experienced at the realization of his erotic fantasy momentarily distracted him from closing the van’s door. It slid shut with a solid catch, and Jason switched on the overhead light. He had sealed a curtain between the seats and the back, keeping his activities private.

  Nicki’s fingers drummed across the tape binding her wrists, frantically trying to saw an edge with her nails. The man had not spoken, and he had forced her head down towards her thighs again, after he had her wrists secured. The position strained her back and made it impossible to kick her legs. Nicki felt fingers tracing along the bottom hem of her soft blue sweater. They reached underneath and slowly slid the warm knit up her back. She felt each vertebrae in her spine chilled when the air hit. Nicki stopped struggling for a moment, and tears of fearful despair began to soak the inside of the hood.

  Fumbling gloved fingers unhooked her bra, and Nicki was rousted out of her shock and began to scream again. The man moved beside her and released his hold on her neck. She immediately sprung up, kicking in blindness. It was the only way she could make noise and perhaps wound her attacker. Help me. Please, somebody hear me. A hand reached around her throat. Nicki was terrified that the man was going to strangle her.

  Instead, he pushed her onto her back. Nicki shook violently and tried to twist out of his reach. Her long legs continued to strike out at him. She sobbed with relief when he let go of her neck… only to shriek again, when she felt his fingers on the zipper to her jeans.

  Jason merely had to lower them and her panties to her shins, and then sit on her thighs to keep her legs restrained. Although he was sporting a world class erection, he had no intention
of attacking her with it. The excitement he was feeling was because of her terror, and he laid his hand on her stomach to feel her quivering and sobs. Through high school, he had imagined this control with the string of cheerleaders he had dated. Jason was elated that the passion he was experiencing was much greater than he had anticipated now that he actually performed the act. There was still a lingering touch of anxiety, and he satisfied himself with stroking her.

  Nicki cringed when the man began touching her, first laying a hand on her belly, and then bruising her nipples with his pinching gloved fingers. His crushing weight on her thighs gave her an indication of his size and strength. No. She screamed behind the gag and thrashed her head when the man’s attention wandered to her pussy. He spread her lips and slid some instrument up and down her slit with a gentle, coaxing stroke that quickly caused her to leak wet responsive juices while she sobbed in humiliation.

  Jason kept her held prisoner for almost two hours, using the eraser end of the pencil in place of his finger. He created his simple alibi by texting her phone twice in the first half hour to ask where she was. She had climaxed twice with his slow, tormenting seductions. For the last hour, she had stopped fighting him. She lay passive, sucking deep breaths through her nose and quivering in fear, humiliation, and arousal.

  Reluctantly, Jason re-dressed her. She was mewling soft cries behind the gag. He straddled her chest and felt around the bag for her nose, and he pinched. It took only a few moments for her to go limp, and Jason quickly removed the duct tape and sack, and carried her back to her car. While he drove across town to return the van, he wondered if she would report the incident.

  Monday in class he sat across the room from her. She had, perhaps, a touch of anxiety, and she seemed apathetic and distracted with the lecture. Eventually, she looked towards him and he managed to look sad and bewildered that she had not bothered to return his messages all weekend. Jason made his observations of her reactions while taking notes on the class, and occasionally sniffing and inhaling the scent on the end of the pencil he was using.

  Nicki caught up with him after class. She was nervous, and her eyes scanned the halls searching for danger while she explained that a family emergency had come up. Jason made the appropriate understanding comments, and he realized Nicki had absolutely no idea that he was the perpetrator of the crime. He was elated when he decided that she realized she had no proof of anything to report, and he managed to convince her to reschedule their date.

  Two weeks later, he fucked her. While they lay writhing and thrusting towards climax, he was envisioning the time he had spent with her as his prisoner. Nicki was trying to lose herself in passion, just to have a few moments free from the nightmare terror that continued to leave her anxious and panicked. The experience gave Jason the most intense orgasm he had ever achieved.

  Jason repeated the same scenario many times before he graduated. To his knowledge, only one girl had actually gone to the police. They questioned him and told him not to feel guilty about his initial anger with the girl for standing him up. After all, there was no way he could have known that she had been abducted. The police ended the interrogation by telling him to be sympathetic to the young woman if she ever agreed to a makeup date. Jason watched the police shaking their heads while they sat in their car and crossed his name off their list.

  After graduation, Jason took the job in computer land, California. He began visiting BDSM clubs and realized he wanted to take his games further. After witnessing several arrangements where both partners were participants with their role of control and submission, the thought of a willing partner did not seem to excite him… except for Nicki. Jason got an immediate, painfully throbbing erection at the thought of her passively kneeling at the end of his leash, waiting for whatever new torment he desired.

  He cruised the streets and used his same reliable method to abduct the girls, but now he brought them home and kept them for a few days. Jason began adding devices and soft tortures to the women before releasing them. Most were prostitutes or barflies, and even the few that reported the incidents were not taken seriously.

  Whether it was because Nicki was such a beautifully enticing young woman or because she was the first, Jason was unsure. He had continued comparing her arousing fear and wet response to every girl he had abducted since he had taken her for two hours so long ago. Although he felt his cock stiffen… felt his balls tighten euphorically, while he performed his sadistic seductions… all had fallen short of Nicki’s mark.

  It was six years and many women later when Jason was caught. Silicone valley had settled release funds to spin him into the overpopulated field of layoffs, and he was taking time off to decide what to do. Cruising an alley he had not used in a year, a blonde was sashaying her wears in a manner that suggested she had had a few drinks. Jason slowed his van and she walked up to the passenger door. She leaned slightly in the passenger window, inhaled deeply through her nose, and smiled. Jason’s face paled slightly when she turned to the shadows, and called out, “It’s him.”

  Jason recognized the former redhead, and he realized she was wearing a wig. He had no idea what her name was, or even how long ago he had abducted her. He did, however, have a pretty good idea that the oriental man holding the gun on him was serious. Fuck. He hoped he had enough cash on him to buy his way out of her pimp’s interest.

  “Get your ass back on the street,” the man scolded the girl. He reached for the door handle and climbed into the van. “Drive.”

  Jason pulled forward out of the alley and onto a main road. He wondered why he had not been shot in the seclusion of the off-street. The next time he glanced at the man, he had laid the pistol on his lap. “Turn right here.”

  Jason followed his directions, and asked, “You’re not going to shoot me?”

  “Over that whore? Hardly.”

  “Then what…?”

  “You’ll find out when we get there. Take the second left and pull into the third driveway on the right.”

  Jason was led into a large home with an expensively furnished living room, reeking of the delicate, beautiful flavor of the orient. While sipping brandy, he waited with his escort. Another oriental man walked in, wearing a kimono style robe. He was closely followed by a young woman in a form-fitting embroidered silk dress, being led by a leash attached to an ornamental collar. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

  The girl knelt silently by his side when he sat down. A few seconds later, Jason’s eyes widened when the man lashed a cane across her lower back. The girl’s eyes watered, but she never made a sound. “Arch,” the man demanded. Her brown bob wavered while she thrust her chest out, straining her breasts against the shiny material.

  “I am Makoto. I trust your ride with Takeshi was not too unpleasant.”

  “I’m Jason… and it would have been a hell of a lot more unpleasant if he’d shot me,” Jason suggested. “I take it that’s not what you have in mind.”

  Makoto chuckled. “Though she claims she never saw you, Helen remembered you as a big man, Jason. She has a crazy talent for recognizing smells, and she said there was an overpowering scent of different perfumes when she was held captive in your van. Tell me about yourself. I am especially interested in your reasons for borrowing my whore for a few days.” Makoto noticed Jason’s interest in the slave kneeling beside him. “She is relatively new and still learning proper presentation,” he dismissed.

  Jason remained silent, trying to get his bearings and gain a better understanding of what was going on. The thought that the whore had recognized the overabundant scents of different women in his van intrigued him. He detailed and cleaned it thoroughly after the captures, and had never noticed it. Jason was deciding how much he should reveal. “I have interests that tend to be more extreme than street prostitutes are willing to accept payment for.”

  Makoto stared into the man’s unusual purple tinged eyes. There was a definite heat building when he looked at the pathetic girl kneeling beside him. She was weak�
�� too weak for the street or a brothel. Certainly too weak for his clubs or to auction to a client, but he sensed something special about her. Makoto had been deciding whether to cut his losses and throw her in with the domestic servants, so for the time being he kept her. “I don’t think you intend to pay for these services, anyway. How many girls have you extended your unwelcome invitation to, for these ‘extreme’ interests? With Helen’s description of her time with you, I am certain she was not your first guest. How many women have you abducted?”

  Jason felt his balls instinctively draw up with the fear of discovery. The steady gaze of the man made Jason feel like an amateur. It became apparent that the girl by his host’s side was not a willing submissive partner to the man. She was his slave, and not like the partners he had witnessed in the clubs. “I lost count,” Jason admitted. “I don’t keep them very long. At first, I kept them in vans for a few hours. The past couple of years I’ve brought them to my home and kept them two or three days.”

  Makoto stroked the girl’s short brown hair and Jason read the panic in her eyes. It gave Jason a heightened sense of arousal, and he realized how much he had been missing by keeping his captives’ faces covered. The man’s hand threaded through the girl’s locks and he lifted her. “Refresh our brandy.”

  “Yes, Master,” the girl murmured, and she scurried across the room to the liquor cabinet.

  Makoto watched his guest’s eyes follow the girl, and in a steady voice, he said, “I keep them for more than a few days, Jason.” Makoto let his remark sink in while the girl delivered their drinks. She resumed kneeling by his side and remembered to arch appropriately into position. “Helen says you kept a blindfold on her.”

  Jason nodded, and added, “I use to cover their heads with a cloth bag. It was quicker, but I couldn’t read their faces or get an idea of what they were experiencing… except through their gagged protests or thrashing.”