Diane, the extortion and the abduction

My friend Diane was a spectacularly colorful character. Her convention-busting spirit and fearlessness could certainly be described as colorful. Her kinky outfits, often hot pink, where indisputably colorful. I spotted her on a dance floor and immediately pegged her for a kindred spirit. She, transgendered, blond and pink. Me, sporting elaborate hairdos and rave-kid garb. We were unlikely characters surrounded by the dark goth-fetishists who turned out in droves every Thursday night, at Bondage-A-Go-Go on the north side of the river.

I saw Diane weekly on that dance floor for months. Eventually, our glances at each other, over the big hair of sweaty goth kids, gave way to an introduction, which led to a get-together for mimosas at Ruby's near Loring Park. There began our friendship and the devious co-planning which, over the next few years, resulted in a number of events that became the stuff of legend—at least amongst a small and very underground community in the Twin Cities.

Early on in our friendship, Diane visited me at the apartment I shared with Satan, my ex-wife. That evening alone is story-worthy, but it's not the story. The story begins the next day when I discovered a pink leather choker, left by Diane the night before. I also found bright pink feathers scattered around the apartment. Apparently, Diane's boa was molting.

Why unceremoniously return the choker, I thought, when instead I could do something diabolical? A plan was hatching.

Extortion gets a bad rap. If you haven't considered all the angles, let me be the first to put a positive spin on extortion. Imagine you have a friend who would likely appreciate an abduction scene. Imagine that you're willing to put in the work necessary to create that scene. Imagine that you are inclined to inject humor into the scene because you believe that funny is sexy. Imagine you could initiate this abduction through extortion, since you are in possession of the extorted-to-be's prized, pink, leather choker.

I imagined these things and set the plan in motion with the first of three extortion letters. To amplify the creepiness factor, and avoid possible legal repercussions, the letter was not mailed. It was placed in Diane's mailbox.

The first letter read:
"Pay close attention! If you ever want to see your lovely pink choker again, you must do exactly what you are told. First, tell no one that we've contacted you… especially the cops! Next, prepare to follow every instruction sent to you to the letter! More information is coming. You will know us by this sign:"
A pink feather from Diane's molting boa was attached to the letter with a strip of purple tape. click to see the original

Perhaps a week later, a second letter was placed in Diane's mailbox. It included a crudely cut-out Polaroid print that showed the pink choker wrapped in a leather shoelace.
The second letter read:
"As you can see, it's not exactly been a picnic for poor little choker! And yet, the suffering she's already endured is nothing in comparison to what awaits her if you fail to follow our instructions. Be at the Loring Bar by 7:00 p.m., Sat., Nov. 18. Come alone, travel lightly & dress to kill. Order a pink cocktail, take up a table & wait. We'll find you there.

Deviate from this plan & it's curtains for little choker."
A pink feather from Diane's molting boa was attached to the letter with a strip of purple tape. click to see the original

On the evening of November 18, Redline, one of the handful of characters I'd enlisted for the abduction, hand-delivered the third and final letter to Diane, whom he'd found at a corner table in the Loring Bar. It should be said that Redline was chosen for this faze of the operation because Diane didn't know him. This detail would, so the plan went, introduce uncertainty in Diane, maybe even cause her to question what she was getting into. Redline, according to plan, initially said nothing when he sat down at Diane's table. He simply slid the third and final letter across the table.
The final letter read:
"You've come this far, so don't blow it now! From this moment on, you will speak only when spoken to! Remain calm, finish your cocktail & give me your car keys. Obey my commands & everything will be O.K. Remember, little choker is just a cell-phone call away from oblivion!"
A pink feather from Diane's molting boa was attached to the letter with a strip of purple tape. click to see the original

After reading the letter, Diane finished her drink in silence while Redline prepared for their departure. He discretely passed bondage wrist cuffs to Diane and instructed her to put them on. He gave Diane a pair of shaded safety glasses. The glasses wrapped around Diane's eyes fully and the inside of the glasses were spray-painted black. When wearing them, Diane was completely blinded. Once Diane finished her drink, Redline connected her wrist cuffs together, then connected a leash to the cuffs. As instructed by Redline, Diane rose from the table and was led, blindly, on a leash, out of the Loring, past diners, drinkers, hipsters and bohemians.

Outside the Loring, I was waiting along with addtional collaborators: one to drive our get-away car; another to drive Diane's car; others to add to Diane's blinded imaginations with their unfamiliar voices while I remained silent. Off we went in a car that Diane had never ben in, to a house that Diane had never been to. At the house, through unfamiliar rooms, hallways and staircases, we led blinded Diane to an attic. There, the house's occupants had set up a kink playroom. There we released the leash and attached Diane's wrist cuffs to some kinky piece of furniture. My efforts towards psychological torment were paying off swimmingly. My collaborators efforts towards physical torment were producing desired results as well. For maybe an hour, we stayed in this attic, full of unfamiliar voices and surprise sensations for blinded Diane. Then we re-leashed her and moved her to the next venue.

At the night's last stop, blinded Diane may have figured out her whereabouts as we led her through rooms, hallways and staircases that she'd been in hundreds of times before. Once again we made our way to an attic; this one astoundingly tricked out for BDSM merriment. Here there were many more voices to be heard by blinded Diane. Here she was again unleashed and reattached to kink equipment. Here her blinding-glasses were finally removed and she could see that she was surrounded by many friends and a few strangers. Here Diane could count the number of people who cared about her enough to carry out this delightful lunacy. And here she could bask in being the center of attention.

What she couldn't do was get away.
The night was still young and we weren't through with her yet.