It was Thursday, their weekly “kidnapping” date night. Arriving home after work, Rebecca took a quick shower, touched up her makeup and slipped
into one of Mark’s favorite outfits. Coming back downstairs, she felt her nipples hardening as she imagined all the delightful things he planned
to do with his helpless captive, once she was his. Concealed, in the darkness of the hallway, Rebecca failed to notice her kidnapper before the
rag in his leather gloved hand covered her mouth, her last conscious thought, Chloroform.
I gradually awoke only to find myself hooded and hanging painfully by my wrists. Standing relieved the throbbing in my shoulders, but the restraints made it impossible to escape the heavy leather hood covering my head. Suddenly, my kidnapper roughly pulled the hood off my head.
Blinking as my eyes slowly adjusted to the unexpectedly bright lights, “Seriously Mark, as much as I like you fulfilling all my kidnapping, bondage sex and rape fantasies, I think actually using Chloroform was a little too extreme.”
Pausing to staring at her for a brief moment, Rebecca’s kidnapper smiled behind his face concealing metal hockey mask, then picking up his knife replied, “Who’s Mark?”
Utterly surprised, that she’d actually been kidnapped, Rebecca was still struggling to accept the truth, when her “kidnapper," the infamous serial killer and snuff film producer known as the Ghost, stabbed the razor-sharp blade of his knife deep into her guts...