40 Hours Missing

You are not taking me seriously, so I thought I'd introduce you to Gunther so you'd take him seriously. This is Gunther. He prefers to dress in all leather, all the time.

He moves in different circles from my own, but I met him at a wine and cheese tasting in Dibble. He was on a visit to pick up a new slave to take back to Berlin where he works as a dungeon master at a sex club. He seemed nice enough at first despite the leather gear. Boy, was I wrong.

He's got this hidden taste for blood play that for the life of me I don't get. Plus, I've never seen anyone get that turned on from the screams of agony of a dying man (and yes, Chet is dying- slowly, painfully). If it weren't for the tight leather, I'm afraid everyone would know just how excite Gunther gets.

Make the madness stop. Pay up, deadbeat.

38 Hours Missing

This is a photo of Chet in happier days. It was taken just a few hours before you met him. Remember how robust he was? How hot he shook his little tush for those dollar bills at that bachelorette party for your Aunt Mimsy?

Trust me. He's not looking so hot now. Several hours under Gunther's lashes, blindfolded and deprived of all dignity have made him much, much smaller of a man. He's only a hollow shell now.

Time's running out. I do not think I can keep him safe from Gunther for too much longer. Gunther has already come over twice today. Once to retrieve his grandmother's razor, and a second time to look over Chet (I don't know what the whole licking his lips thing was, but I'd be afraid. Very afraid.).

Money. Now.

37 Hours Missing

I slept so well last night. Chet's whimpering was the best lullaby ever made.

I finally had to make Gunther leave after he got carried away with the cat-o-nine tails. I should make a mental note not to hire henchmen from Berlin sex club dungeons again. He may be big and burly, but he does get too carried away. When he started talking about straight razors, I knew it was time to definitely go. I took away his cat and razor, but I don't know if I can continue to protect Chet.....especially when you aren't giving me a financial incentive.

Speaking of which- cough up the money, bitch. Or Gunther gets to make a return visit. I'd hate to give him back his toys.

21 Hours Missing

As you can tell, we're playing a bit of Through the Looking Glass here. The theme is "Off With His Head."

The sword is quite real. Quite sharp. It's on of those Arabic type things so it's wholly possible it's seen this type of action before. You know, blood, guts, decapitated hubbies writhing like newly landed fish on the cold, hard floor.

Anyhow, that's what we're looking at if you don't cough up the cash. Starting coughing or Chet starts bleeding.

20 Hours Missing

Did the lost hour make you sweat? Probably not as much as "Gunther's" paddle made your hubby sweat. I had business to take care of so I outsourced to "Gunther" who is far, far sicker than I ever thought about being.

Since I've had to outsource, my expenses have had to go up as well. This means that the price has gone up. 100K now. That's the new price for getting Chet back (let's say- intact).

Oh, I almost forgot, Chet seemed downright happy when Gunther brought out the paddle. What kind of sickos are you two anyway? For and extra 25K I might not tell your father.....

18 Hours Missing

Ooops. I guess I went a little too far. Sorry about the black eye.

Not.

Boy, did Chet get mad when I told him about Brian. He thought Brian was just someone you knew from work. Little did he know, huh?

But what made Chet just boo-hoo like a little wuss was me telling him you hadn't tried to pay the ransom. Bad wifey.

Are you starting to enjoy this as much as I am? I take your silence as an affirmation that you're getting off on Chet's predicament. You sicko. You pervert. Couldn't you at least pretend you care about Chet and not your own selfish desires?

Oh, wait. I could be wrong.... You could be working with the feebs. If you are or are even thinking about it, don't. Hopefully, your head isn't as empty as good 'ole Chet's.

Wait until the next update.

I have something special in store for you....

17 Hours Missing

This is probably my favorite photo. Just looking at it gives me the same surge of adrenaline I get every time I knock Chet's face in the dirt. I swear- it's making my nipples hard.

Feeling guilty yet? Bet you don't. I guess it's time to tell Chet about Brian, that guy you left with last night.

Think that will break what little spirit he has left? I bet that'll hurt more than me standing on his neck, crushing his airpipe and cutting off the oxygen to his brain.

I can't wait to play out my sick twisted fantasies on him. I beg you not to pay the ransom. I'm having too much fun slowly making you a widow.....

16 Hours Missing

Chet finally broke. What a wuss. Asking for help. Are you his wife or his mother? Do you have to change his diapers, too?

His tears really are like candy. Bittersweet and satisfying.

Do his tears move you? Do they cause you unbearable pain?

They should. It's all your fault. You left him alone. You left with another man. You refuse to pay. You mock me with your offer of Wonka bars.

His tears will stop once you pay me my money. Until then, I will feast on his pain with delight.

Mmmmmm.....

15 Hours Missing

I thought I might update you on your hubby's condition. He hasn't had much of an appetite since we snagged him last night. He hasn't even made a peep.

Yet.

I promise you I'll make him scream. In agonizing pain. He'll beg for mercy. He'll beg me to make the pain stop, but I won't. I can't. Only you make this torture stop.

Pay me my money.

Or haven't I made my point yet?

14 Hours Missing

Since I haven't received the money yet, and you're pleading for more time, I thought Chet and I'd have a little fun.

Here's me "fixing" Chet up a bit.

Isn't it lovely he can continue to smile like that?

Oh, and just so you know, his tears are like candy to me. Mmmmm. I can't wait for them to flow again. Maybe next time I'll use those pliers on Chet's tool???

13 Hours Missing

You shouldn't have left him alone in the bar. He was too easy to pick up when you had your head turned. Maybe it would have helped if you wouldn't have left with that other guy.

Now. He's all alone. In a strange place. And I'm not a nice person. Oh, no I'm not.

I wasn't joking when I asked for 50k in small bills. Do you think a case of Wonka bars will cut it? Do you!?!

Think again.

Time is running out for his safe return. I have blow torches, and lit cigarettes and very long needles. How do you think he'd hold up under pressure? Not well, I bet.

Get me money or Chet will die.