The Collector




“In local news, the final was held at the Lake Woebegone Country Club today of the Ginger Cavanaugh Invitational tennis tournament, between local celebrity Dorothy Carr and Elaine McDermott.  In a close fought and tense competition, Carr came out the winner in a tie-break on the third set, and collected the trophy from Ms Cavanaugh to the delight of her family.”


Dottie was smiling for the cameras as she posed for photographs at the club.  Although she had changed out of her game outfit, the white tennis dress she was wearing was still attracting a lot of attention, the white material stretched over her breasts – and the extra few inches on her strapped heels didn’t hurt either.  She kept smiling at the cameras, her body belying her actual age, as she allowed the top of her stockings to peek out from under the hem of the short skirt on her dress.


“Thank you, Mrs Carr,” the paparazzi said as they finally allowed her to leave the room and head back to the changing area to collect her belongings.  Her son was waiting for her, and she had a tale to tell the grandchildren as well.


As she walked in the door, she was surprised at how quiet it was.  She had left Elaine heading for the shower, and her bag was still there, so where was she?


“Elaine?” she called out, and in response she heard a banging noise from the shower cubicles.  Slowly she walked over and gently pulled on the sliding door.  Elaine was sat on the floor, tape over her mouth and around her naked body, her eyes staring at Dottie in fear.


“What the hell?” was all she could say before the sweet smelling rag was clamped over her nose and mouth.  As she slowly slipped into a deep sleep, she heard a man say “We got an unexpected bonus – pass the tape over,” before a ripping sound was the last thing she heard....



“Mum?  Are you day dreaming again?”


Dottie opened her eyes and looked out over the short cut grass of the lawn at the Country Club.  “Sorry,” she said as she turned and looked at her son, “It’s been a long week – I never expected Jury service to be so tiring.”


“I’m not surprised – from what I read in the papers, that thief deserved everything he got.  I’d heard of the Babysitter Bandits, but holding an entire family hostage just to get access to the store the next morning?”


Picking up her drink, Dottie took a sip before nodding her head.  “Yeah,” she said, “when we were told by the detectives how he left the three young girls, that scared me.”


“Scared you?  After all you went through last year?”


“That was me – imagine if little Dottie had been treated that way.”


Her son nodded.  “Fair point – at least he’s behind bars now.”  As they sat and watched the children playing, neither of them noticed the tall gentleman taking photographs in the background.  In particular, they did notice the way he took photographs of Dottie in her dress....






“Gran – telephone.”


Dottie came down and sat on the staircase as her grandson handed her the handset.  She was about to go out to a concert, and was wearing a black vest top with lace capped panels, a grey skirt and knee length black leather boots.  As she put the headset to her ear, she listened to the voice on the other end, nodding and answering as if she was being asked questions.  Finally, she stood up and replaced the handset in the machine, a frown growing on her face as she did so.


“Is everything all right, Mum?” her sons aid as he looked at her.


“I hope so – that was the police.  Apparently, a couple of people from the jury I was on have been attacked and robbed.  They think it’s just a coincidence, but they wanted to warn the rest of us to be careful.”


“I’m not surprised – just tell me there were no Middle East connections with that case?”


Dottie smiled.  “No, there were not – but thanks for the concern.  Taxi ready?”


“Your carriage awaits,” her son said as Dottie ran for the door.  As she climbed into the passenger seat, and her son set off down the road, the grey car that was parked a little way down set off slowly behind them.




It was the following morning, as Dottie was reading the paper, when she saw the report of the break-in at the house of Hannah McGillicuddy, who had sat next to her at the court table.  The report only said that she had been held at gunpoint and forced to give several personal items over, before been left bound and gagged until her husband came home, but it was enough to scare her.  After her experiences at the hands of the minions of the Sheikh, she had learned to be cautious as to her own security, and yet she still wondered what would happen if, if....


She slowly opened her eyes.  The last thing she remembered was walking to her car at the mall, and then a sharp sting in her neck.  After that...  Well, although her eyesight was still blurry her sense of touch was returning, and what she could feel was cold metal that encircled her wrists behind her back.  She pulled her arms back, and as the jangle of links brought sound into the previously silent room she realise it was not possible for her to move them more than a few inches before she could feel her legs move.


Dottie tried to move eh rankles apart, only for that same cold metal feeling to hit against her legs.  Actually, it was more than a feeling – she could feel the hard band cracking against her ankles as she tried to move them.  Realising movement that way was not possible; she closed her eyes and took some time to allow them to focus more.


There was a stale taste in her mouth – one of cold rubber that seemed to fill it, and as she tried to move her jaw she realised that her teeth were grating against a hard object as well.  “A gag – great, but what type” she thought to herself as she allowed her eyes to slowly open again.


She looked round the red brick walls that surrounded her, and realised she was in a cellar.  On the wall was some sort of electrical panel, and as she slowly moved her head around she could see several sets of manacles hanging from the ceiling.  Dottie was sat on an upturned metal barrel, and now she could see the length of chain that connected her manacled wrists to those that encircled her ankles.


Dottie tried to calm herself down, trying to take deep breaths in and out, but the fact she had to do both through her nose was making it difficult.  She now could feel some sort of leather pad against her cheeks, and as she looked on the floor she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a puddle of water.  There was a large leather pad covering the lower part of her face, with straps going around her cheeks and over her hair to hold it firmly there.  Running her tongue around whatever her teeth were hitting against, she realised some sort of rubber bung was in her mouth, probably attached to the leather pad.


“Good morning Mrs Carr – I trust you slept well,” a young male voice said, and Dottie turned her head to see two men standing there, casually dressed except for the grey hoods over their heads.  looking at her as she was sitting there.  The looks in their eyes made her regret slightly the tight fitting leather vest top and red skirt she was wearing – it certainly flattered her figure, but this was probably not the time and place for that to happen.


“We need some information from you Mrs Carr – the combination to the vault at your offices, and the security codes.  Are you going to co-operate, or not?”


Dottie looked at the two men as they stood in front of her, their arms folded and their eyes staring through the slits in their hoods.  As much as she hated to admit it, her fear at her situation was being tempered by different feelings – feelings of release in her helplessness, that if these two men decided to do anything, there was nothing, absolutely nothing she could do to stop them.  She closed her eyes as those feelings started to bring a warm glow to her body, a feeling of pleasure that was starting to grow and proving more difficult to deny herself.


“Mrs Carr, will you cooperate?” the voice said again, this time a little more angrily, and Dottie opened her eyes to stare at her captors.  Setting the growing feelings aside, she shook her head from side to side to indicate her answer.


“A pity, a very great pity.  You are a very beautiful woman, Mrs Carr, and it is a shame that we have to try and persuade you.  Prepare the prope.”


Dottie looked on, her eyes widening as one of the men took something from the wall next to the electrical panel and slowly walked towards her.  As he approached, she could see a round ball attached to the end of a metal rod, the lien from the back feeding back to the panel.  She tried to sit back as her skirt rode up, revealing the tops of her black stockings and the black panties she had worn the previous day.


“At a low voltage, this can be most – pleasurable, Mrs Carr, but the longer you refuse to talk, the higher the voltage and the greater the vibration.  Let us see how long you can continue before pleasure becomes torture.”


Dottie tried to squirm out of the way as the masked captor slowly passed the end of the rod between her legs, not just from fear, but from the slight damp feeling she already had in anticipation of what she knew was about to occur.  She closed her eyes, fighting to resist the growing warmth and feelings of pleasure as....




“Oh, sorry son,” Dottie said as she put the paper down and drained her cup.  “I was somewhere else again.”


“Right – listen, a man called Jeremy just called.  He said he served on the jury with you?”


Dottie sat in thought for a moment.  “Jeremy – oh yeah, I remember him.  Slight little lad with short brown hair.  What about him?”


“Apparently he got this number from the phone book – he wants to talk to you about these attacks.  I said I wasn’t sure, but I took his number.”


He handed his mother a slip of paper, which she read and then left on the table.  “I’ll think about it – in the meantime, I’d better get ready for work.  There’s an important meeting today, and I need to look my best.”


An hour later, Dottie was sitting on her bed, fastening a pair of black high heeled shoes to her stocking clad feet.  She was wearing a black halter neck dress that, in her view, showed enough of her chest to sway any other men in the meeting without being considered “tarty”.  Standing up, she headed down the staircase and was about to leave when the telephone rang.


“Hello, Dorothy Carr,” she said as she picked up the handset.


“Mrs Carr, this is Jeremy.  We met on jury service, and I called earlier?”


“Oh yes, Jeremy, what can I do for you?”


“I want to talk with you – somebody is targeting us, and I think I know who.”


“Jeremy, if you have a suspicion you need to talk to the police, not me.”


“I know, but I want to ask you something first.  Can we meet?”


Dottie looked at her watch.  “All right – I’ll meet with you tonight.  Shall we say eight o’clock?”


“Thank you, Mrs Carr.  I promise you it is vitally important.”


Replacing the headset, Dottie grabbed her car keys and ran out of the front door.  As she drove off, she failed to see again the grey car parked a little further down the road, that slowly approached and entered her driveway.






It was six in the evening by the time Dottie returned home, only to be greeted by a patrol car outside the house and the sight of an officer talking to her son.


“Mrs Carr?  I’m glad I caught you,” the officer said as Dottie got out of her car.  “Your son reported that someone had broken in and taken some things from your house.”


“A burglar?  What did he take?”


“Nothing much – in fact, we suspect it’s the same person who has attacked a few people recently.  They’re all small things that belonged to you.”


Dottie looked at her son, who nodded.  “Some of your keepsakes – nothing valuable, but they had a good look round.  Mum, do you need to go out tonight?”


She thought back to her telephone conversation that morning, but decided she needed to talk to Jeremy before she said anything.  “I’m meeting some of the girls later for a drink, then straight home – why?”


“It’s lucky you were not home then, Mrs Carr.  If you hear or see anything that concerns you, call the station house.  Mister Carr?”


Her son nodded as the officer returned to the patrol car.  “Mum, do you really have to go out tonight?” he said as Dottie came into the house.


“I’m not letting some twisted little pervert spoil my life – so yes, I do have to go out.  If you’re worried, you can drive me there and wait for me.”





“Well, you did say, mum.”


Dottie smiled as her son pulled into the parking lot outside the bar.  He jumped out, and ran round to open the door for her, allowing her to swing her legs out and slowly stand on the five inch stiletto heeled light brown shoes she was wearing.  It also made it easier for her to stand without revealing too much with the tight brown dress she chosen to wear, the cotton material hugging her breasts and stretching as she walked towards the bar door.  Her handbag was slung over her left shoulder, and the white belt that encircled her waist swayed on her hips as she moved.


“Hey, mum,” her son called out, and Dottie stopped before turning.


“It’s just as well you are my mother – I might be attracted to you in that outfit.”


“You say the nicest things, son,” Dottie said with a smile as she turned back and continued to walk towards the door, her son getting back into the car to wait for her.  Opening the door, she looked round and saw a young man with light brown hair waiting at a table, as well as her friends sitting at the far end of the bar.


“Be with you in a minute, girls,” she called out as she walked over and sat opposite the young man.  “I have exactly five minutes, Jeremy, so make it quick – who is it you think is doing this?  Because whoever it is broke into my house today.”


The young man looked nervously round, before leaning over.  “I know exactly who it was.”




“Me – Mrs Carr, there is a small pistol pointing directly at you under the table, so do not look round or do anything to attract attention to yourself.  I want you to slowly stand up, and walk in front of me to the side entrance of the bar.  If you do anything to try and raise the alarm, I swear I will kill you right here and now.”


Dottie stared at the young man, who picked up a coat that was laid beside him and draped it over his arm.  As he brought his arm up to do that, she caught glimpse of the pistol in his hand, and slowly nodded as she moved to the side of the booth.


“A bit young for you isn’t he Dottie,” one of her friends called over as Jeremy took her by the arm.  She smiled back in reply, saying nothing as the two of them walked to the side door and slipped out into a quiet area of the car park.  Around the corner, she could see her son waiting in the parked car, but Jeremy merely tightened his grip on her arm and said “Don’t even think about it” as they made their way to a grey car parked in the corner.


“Where are we going,” Dottie said as they stopped by the car.  “You will see- eventually,” Jeremy said as he opened the boot of his car and took out a small plastic bag.  Removing a cloth from it, he handed it to Dottie and said, “Place that over your nose and mouth, and hold it there.”


She stared at the young man before doing as he asked.  The sickly sweet smell filled her nostrils and burned slightly the back of her throat, but all that was minor compared to the rapidly growing sleepy feeling she had as she chloroform took effect.  As she slumped down, the young man caught her and gently laid her in the boot of the car, closing the lid on her and placing the cloth back into the bag.  As he climbed in and drove off, Dottie slumbered, dreaming of other things...



“AAAANNDDD Relax.  Well done on your workout – now take a break – you’ve earned it!”


The exercise video had continued in the background while Dottie put on a pair of grey heeled sandals over her bare feet.  Her legs were encased in a pair of skin tight black leggings, that hugged to her skin as she moved, while a black sleeveless top covered the upper half of her body.  She had actually finished her routine early – a glance at the clock had told her she was running late for a meeting – but as she straightened up she quickly realised that appointment was going to be missed.


What told her that was the black gloved hand that had clamped itself over her mouth, and the glint off the large knife blade as it was held in front of her eyes.  “Please, not a sound or I may have to use this,” a deep male voice said from behind her, and Dottie tied to look round to see who was holding her.  “Please, keep looking straight forward.  If you do exactly what I say, then I will only be here a little while, but if you try to fight you will regret it.  Nod if you understand.”


Staring straight ahead, Dottie slowly moved her head up and down.  “Very good,” the voice said.  “Now, I promise you I am not going to molest you or otherwise harm you.  I just want your money and credit cards, nothing more.  I do need to make sure you don’t get in my way, but otherwise you are safe with me.  Nod again if you understand.”


Sweat was building on her forehead as Dottie slowly nodded.  “I’m going to take my hand away – I want you to day nothing, but slowly bring your hands behind your back and sit perfectly still.  All right?”


Dottie nodded one last time and stared straight ahead as the gloved hand was removed.  She felt her hands being guided behind her back, and then heard a ripping sound as her wrists were crossed and something sticky was passed around them, pulling them tightly together.  She felt her wrists being pulled into the small of her back, and as she glanced down she saw a roll of black tape being passed around her lower arms and waist.


“I think you have a lovely outfit on, and I do not want to distract from it,” the voice said as she felt her arms being pulled into her sides, as well as her wrists being pressed into her back.  As she heard the last rip of the tape being removed from the roll and pressed against her side, she said “Who are you?”


“Me?  Just a burglar,” the voice said, and Dottie watched as a young man dressed in black with a balaclava covering his head came round and knelt in front of her.  He placed the knife on the floor as he ripped the end of the tape loose from the roll.  “Please, put your legs together and stretch them out in front of you.  I promise I will be quick.”


She watched as he quickly taped he rankles together, followed by her slender calves and then her thighs.  As she squirmed round, the man stood up and tore a long strip off the roll.


“I regret I have to do this, but purse your lips,” he said.  Intrigued by his manners, Dottie offered no resistance as he smoothed the tape over her lips, covering her mouth and following up with several more layers of tape.  Satisfied, he walked back around as Dottie tried without success to move her lips apart.


“Forgive me, but I need some privacy,” he said as he pulled a pillow case over Dottie’s head.  The white cotton obstructed her view enough, but she could hear him searching through the cupboards and drawers.  Dottie tried to relax, enjoying the fact she was effectively immobilised and allowing her imagination to wander.  What would the young man do next?


The answer came as she felt herself being lifted up and carried out of the room, the sound of shoes on the wooden staircase clear as she was taken elsewhere.  Eventually, she was laid on what she presumed was her bed, as the young man said “I’m going to search your room now, but I could not leave you alone down there.  If you raise your head, I’ll put a pillow under so that you are comfortable.”


She felt the soft feather pillow as her head was lowered down, and started to wriggle round in an attempt to get comfortable.  As she rolled onto her side, she could not help beginning to wonder what the man would do if he was inclined towards more personal attempts on her in her helpless situation.  She listened as the sound of a search continued for some time, before she heard him say “Thank you,” and felt the pressure of his lips through the cover over her head.  The door closed, and she was left alone with her thoughts, her fantasies as she rolled onto her back and started to move slowly...




Dottie opened her eyes to a grey mist before them, which obscured her view of anything.  She ached in her shoulders and wrists, and her ankles felt like they were being pulled by something.  As she tried to bring her hand round to rub her eye, she realised with growing sense of horror that her wrists were pinioned somewhere above her head.  She probed wither fingers and could feel some sort of rope encircling them.


There was a cool breeze passing over her bare legs, but from the way her legs refused to move and the way the breeze passed between her legs Dottie guessed that she had been tied spread eagled.  It was soft underneath, so she figured it was some sort of mattress at least.  She tried to speak, but her tongue was pressed to the floor of her mouth by a wad of cloth.  She could not feel anything pulling at the skin around her mouth, or around her cheeks, so she figured something was stuffed in firmly enough that she could not dislodge it.


“So, tied spread eagled, a cloth stuffed in my mouth, and probably a blindfold over my eyes.  Dottie, my girl, what sort of stupid situation have you landed yourself in this time.”  That was the thought uppermost in her mind as she lay there, cursing herself for her stupidity at allowing herself to be captured so easily and wondering if anyone was looking for her now.  As her head cleared, she could hear voices coming from somewhere else, and then footsteps coming closer to wherever she was being held.  The sound of a door opening reached her ears, and then Jeremy saying “Are you awake?”


“Ysss – whr m i” she mumbled through the cloth, to which Jeremy replied “I’m sorry, Dorothy – allow me.”  The grey haze over Dottie’s eyes cleared as her blindfold was removed, and she blinked to give her eyes time to adjust to the bright sunlight that was streaming through the window.


As she looked round, she saw that she was on a bed in a room that more or less duplicated her own at home – including the small personal items that were on the dresser and bedside table, those that had been taken the previous day.  She looked down to see that her ankles were indeed secured to the foot rest of the bed, and glanced up to see the lengths of white rope that encircled her wrists and held them to the headboard. 


“Do you like it?” she heard Jeremy say, and turning her head she saw him sitting on the side of the bed, looking at her.  “I wanted you to feel at home, because you’re going to stay here from now on.”




“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, and reaching over he gently pulled a large cotton scarf out of Dottie’s mouth.  She coughed and said “Water, please.”  He took a glass from the bedside table, poured some cold water from a pitcher and held Dottie’s head up with one hand as he pressed the glass to her lips with the other.


“Thank you,” she said as he put the glass down.  “Jeremy, what have you done this for?  You know you’ll get into trouble.”


“Only if they find out – and I was talking to the police just now.  They’re looking for you, but think you were taken by a young man with brown hair.”


“Yes – by you.  Surely you know they will figure that out.”


“I don’t think so,” he said as he put his hand on top of his head and removed his wig, placing it to one side and passing his hand over his bald head.  “After all, I wasn’t wearing this when I told the police my brother was away on business.”


“Oh shit,” Dottie said as she let her head fall back.  “Jeremy, this is wrong.  If you let me go now, I promise you I won’t tell anyone what has happened.”


“It’s too late for that Dorothy,” he said as he stood up.  “I’ve collected souvenirs from the other jury members, reminders of the only time I have ever felt really important to people, but you – you are the greatest, the most beautiful, the most perfect souvenir of all – and I want you for myself.”


Dottie looked up at the young man, smiling down at her.  “Jeremy, I’m not a doll or a little snow globe – I’m a living person, and you can’t just keep me.  My family will be worried; they will be looking for me.”


“I know,” he said as she stood up, “which is why I need to take you somewhere far away.  Take a little time – I’ll be back up soon to get you ready for the journey.  In the meantime...”


Jeremy picked up a clean cloth that was sitting next to the pitcher, and folded it into a pad which he held in front of Dottie’s mouth while he pinched her nose with her free hand.  She tried to hold her breath, but eventually had to open her mouth and allow him to stuff the cloth in, filling her mouth and stifling any noise.  She followed him wither head as he walked out of the door, closing it behind him and turning a key in the lock.  She looked up and tried twisting her wrists round, attempting to get some sort of give in the tight knots, but with little success.


Screaming in anger and frustration, she started to thrash round on the bed, the skirt of her brown dress rising up and revealing her brown knickers as she did so.  Her anger and fear growing, she started to sweat from her exertions, trying desperately to get some give as...


Her head snapped to the side at the sound of the door breaking down, and the sight of a Long Island police officer coming in and running towards her.









“It was his tale about his brother – when the police checked, they discovered he didn’t have a brother, and went straight back.”


A month had passed, and Dottie was sitting with her son and daughter in law at the country club.  The arraignment for Jeremy had passed, and he was due in court charged with kidnapping and various other assaults and burglaries.


“Mum, you have to make me a promise,” her son said as Dottie took a sip of her iced tea.  It was a warm summer’s day, and she was wearing a black summer dress with white polka dots. It was sleeveless, with thick straps over her shoulders, and she was wearing a pair of red strappy sandals.  It was the first time she had been able to wear such an outfit since her rescue – it had taken that long for the rope marks to fade.


“What’s that,” she said as she stood up.


“Try not to get into this kind of trouble again.”


“I’ll try,” she said as the wind caught her dress skirt, causing it to blow up as she grabbed the hem with her hands.  “Trouble seems to find me, however, so no promises.”