“Tall and tan and young and lovely the girl from Ipanema goes walking and when she passes each one she passes goes, ‘Ahhh’.”

Her long black hair cascaded down her back. It was hard to avoid watching as she strode by, but my attentions were hidden by my mirror sun glasses. The rest of the guys at the street tables made no attempt to hide their appreciation, calling her back to join them. She ignored all their pleas. I smiled but she didn’t notice. She was still wearing the lime green bikini that she had been sunbathing in on the beach. Her own sun glasses perched on top of her head like a strange, black, butterfly. She carried a canvas beach bag, a scarf trailed loosely from it. The straps from her high heeled sandals wound their way up her tanned calves. She was heading back towards the Copacabana Beach.

I tossed a couple of coins onto the table to cover the cost of the beer and headed off around the block in the opposite direction. By the time I got to the street at the back of the bar she was just emerging from the alley, following the route she always took. I followed her. She had to squeeze past my truck, I’d parked it with the wheels on the sidewalk. As she drew level with the truck I closed up behind her, grabbing her from behind... I spun her around and got the chloroform pad over her nose and mouth, one arm around her shoulders, the other trapping her arms against her sides. She was struggling and starting to kick. She was squealing a bit but nothing that anyone was going to hear over the noise of music spilling out from the backs of the seafront bars. She landed a couple of kicks on my shins but the cork wedge heels of her sandals didn’t really make much of an impact. I slammed her against the side of the van. She gasped and as she did so took on a good belt of the chloro, From then on it was all down hill for her. She was young and fit but the drug did its job. I soon felt her go limp in my grip. I kept the pad in place for a little longer but it was pretty clear she was out of it for a while.

I propped her against the side of the van as I slid the door open. She was no weight, even unconscious, it was easy to lift her into the back. I tossed in her beach bag and then climbed in after her and shut the door. I set to making her secure and got the ball gag on her first, there wasn’t much chance of her waking up for a while, but you can’t be too careful. I put the handcuffs on her wrists and her ankles and some ropes around her arms and her knees. I used a scarf from her beach bag to blindfold her. I reckoned that I had about forty minutes before she woke up. That was plenty of time to get her down to the cabin where we would have a much better chance to get acquainted.

I looked down at her unconscious form. Her skin was perfect, even this close. Her tan dived beneath the fabric of her bikini with no sign that it stopped. There would be plenty of time to explore that later. She looked every bit as beautiful as when I had first seen her on the float in the carnival. Even in unconsciousness her body had the same sinuous sensuality that made me think of music whenever I saw her. How can I tell her I love her?