It seems a lifetime ago now, but in reality it was only last year, that I was kidnapped for the first time. Looking back, I’m not entirely certain what led me to this niche corner of BDSM play.  I’d enjoyed the dark dungeon arts for over twenty years, although, with the passing of time, the frequency of my sessions had started to diminish as a certain boredom with traditional scenarios crept in. Occasional forays to visit a new Mistress or two did nothing to dispel the growing feeling that my submissive days were coming to an end.I guess it was chance, then, that caused me one lazy afternoon to stumble upon the website of Mistress Pip. It’s recently been remodelled, but the older version that I found had a gallery featuring atmospheric photos of Mistress Pip and Mistress Kali together, promoting their kidnap service.  These images entranced me. I found the powerful poses struck by the Mistresses, against a bleak industrial backdrop of brick and steel, peculiarly attractive. Over the ensuing days, I frequently returned to the narrative on their kidnap page.  Their promise to “… grab you from the pre-agreed place and bundle you into the back of our van where you will be gagged and restrained” fascinated me. Here was something new. Here was something I hadn’t encountered before. I was hooked.BDSM has many attractions. In my case, I love the anticipation of play almost as much as the play itself. The build-up and sense of excitement were what drove me into the arms of Dominatrixes in the first place. Finding this new vista reawakened that sense of anticipation. And, just as importantly, the prospect scared me. I hadn’t been scared by BDSM for years. It had become familiar and stale. Now, confronted with a scenario that sounded risky and slightly brutal, I faced a challenge that had to be met.  Within days, I had sent my first enquiry to Mistress Pip. The seed had been sown.  A week later, with the kidnap date quickly set, my fate was sealed.  For better or for worse, I was to be Mistress Pip’s hostage.

One of the reasons why I find being kidnapped so compelling, is the unsettling uncertainty over the “Where?”, “When?” and “How?” and, because I plan my kidnaps in advance, this uncertainty  dominates my vanilla life over an extended period. This is the clearest delineation between kidnapping and a standard visit to a dungeon, which I find can be easily compartmentalized. You phone a day or two before, make a booking, rock up and you’re done.  Not so with a kidnapping. I become distracted during my waking hours for weeks and suffer several sleepless nights. To others, I probably appear as if I have something grave on my mind. If only they knew. In reality, I am trying to rationalise my risk-taking; trying to convince myself that my kidnapper is a professional orchestrating an elaborate game that I can halt at any juncture.
Ultimately though, this rationalisation is pointless. “Halting it” is not why I’m here. I’m here because I choose to give up enough control over my mundane life to inject real excitement into it. I am self aware enough to know that once I’ve booked a kidnap, I will go through with it. I have to. For me, there is no turning back.

And that’s how it was with Mistress Pip. After consulting diaries, the date was set for the end of the month – four weeks away.  I remember that time well. On the brink of a step into the unknown, I became distracted at work and distant at home. Each day, the internal tension grew a little more as “K”day approached.  Intermittent e-mails from Mistress Pip served to accelerate this process as sketchy details of my fate were drip-fed to me. Interestingly, I found this whole period very creative. I think the regular rushes of adrenalin I experienced, as I played played out snatch scenarios in my mind, fueled the imaginative suggestions that I forwarded to my Kidnapper. By the time K-day was near, what had started out as a simple request for a kidnap, had morphed into a full scale script for my abduction and torture. I had armed Mistress Pip with intimate details of my psyche; the hidden corners of my mind where the frightened and sniveling me lurked. Yes, the Mistress knew it all and she was free to exploit that knowledge in whatever way she wished.

A week away from K-day, I was finally given an inkling as to the “Where”. Mistress Pip sent the instructions via a brief, but disturbing, e-mail. I was to travel to a deserted carpark near woodland before dawn. Nothing further was disclosed other than the command to “Wait with headphones on and see what happens”. From the moment that missive arrived, the anguish started. It’s an anguish you can’t really understand unless you’ve been kidnapped yourself.  It felt like I had received a death sentence. Something terminal was about to befall me and my only hope for redemption was to place my trust in  Mistress Pip.Snatched from the woods. Bagged and gagged before dawn. That was to be my fate. Madness.
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