Will was in the Goldenrod Radio Station, listening to the broadcasts over the sound system. He watched the people come in and out, the girls especially. Will liked girls very much.
As he sat down to listen to the radio and watch the people, a bouncy young girl came hopping down the stairs. Will estimated her to be about fourteen. Her pink pigtails and shorts left him awestruck. Her legs were shaved smooth and shapely, her arms did not quite have hair yet, and her bubbly smile was infectious. What a beautiful girl, Will thought, I must have her.
Will got up and followed her out of the broadcast station. He thought about how good she must smell. Will followed her to the Goldenrod Gym, where she went inside. Will followed her inside, interested to see who this cute girl is. He looked around the gym, seeing pictures of the girl getting what must be accolades in the world of Pokemon. Not being an enthusiast himself, he didn't know how prestigious any of this was. Looking at the plaques and awards, he discovered that the girl he had been following is the leader of the Goldenrod Gym, Whitney.
Satisfied with learning the identity of his infatuation, Will exited the gym, sat down on a bench across the street and waited.
A few hours passed, and Whitney left the gym and locked up behind her. Will got up and began to follow her again at a safe distance. After walking a couple blocks, Whitney turned onto a residential street. Will followed. He watched her go into a small house and watched the lights turn on as she moved about inside. Will smiled. She must be alone. This will be easy, he thought to himself.
Whitney turned on the light and sat her bag down on the counter. She walked to her room and sat down at her computer to check her messages. The there was a loud 'think' near the door. It startled her and she looked around. She ignored it, though, thinking it was one of the many Pachirisu who live around here.
The power went out and everything was silent. "Aww, man, the fuse must have blown", she said to herself. She got up and walked to her bedroom door. She opened it and saw her front door was standing open, with splinters littering the floor of the entry hall. She gasped and quickly closed her bedroom door. Oh no, someone is in my house, she thought. Fighting her panic, she grabbed the flashlight under her bed and slowly opened the door to the entry hall.
She slowly moved though her house towards the basement, checking every nook and cranny with the flashlight. She had not found anything out of the ordinary yet and she was relieved. She then realized the only place she had yet to check was the basement, where the fuse box was. She was overcome with dread, thinking that if there was a burglar in her house, he must be down there.
The basement door slowly creaked open and she walked down the stairs, each one making a different, terrifying noise. She was terrified, and she quickly walked to the fuse box. She shined the flashlight on the fuse box, and, with a little bit of fumbling, successfully restored power to the house.
Just as the generator started to whir and the lights to come on, she was suddenly pulled back a foot. She could see a large hand covering her mouth. She tried to scream, but the pressure from he hand made it so that she made little more than a moan. It was dark again as the man turned off the basement lights. The only light coming in was the glow from the windows; it was just enough to see.
The hand that turned off the light found its way around Whitney's wrist, pulling it behind her back. The man leaned in and whispered, "Shhh, girl, you're mine now". His breath was warm and not too pleasant. Whitney tried to look away, but the hand wrapped around her mouth overpowered her. She was fighting back tears.
The man dragged her several feet to a nearby table and bent her over it, face first. He leaned over once again and whispered, "Don't scream". He hand that was pinning her arm behind her back released, and she could hear him rummaging though something with it. He lifted her head up a little bit and released her mouth. She took a big gasp of air before the other hand stuffed a cloth in her mouth. It surprised Whitney, her eyes widened and he choked on it a little. She heard ripping coming from behind her and just as quickly as the hand had been removed, a piece of duct tape was holding the cloth in her mouth. Trying to call for help was useless now, every noise she made came out as a muffled, defeated sob.
He let go of her head, and it was resting once again on the table. She was panicking, punching blinding behind her, trying to get the man off of her, but to no avail. A hand grabbed each of her wrists and crossed them behind her back. One large hand held them both there while her captor pulled out a length of rope. He bound her wrists, crossed, behind her back. At this point, Whitney has realized she is completely defeated and began to cry and squirm under this man.
A hand remained holding her wrists, pinning her to the table, and she felt another cold hand on her leg, feeling it. It moved slowly up until it was at her shorts, when it moved around to her inner thigh. She tried to fight and get away, but there was nothing she could do. She let out a few fearful cries. He rubbed and grabbed Whitney's inner thigh for a few seconds before leaning over her and whispering "This is my favorite place on a girl. Espcially on a girl as cute and young as you. It's always so smooth and soft". Whitney closed her eyes, wishing this whole thing to be over.
After a little bit, he moved his hand over her butt and under her shirt, touching her lower back. His hand was cold and it tickled her, she wriggled against the man and his binds and made some soft, scared giggles. He then moved a bit lower and pulled down her shorts a little bit. This alarmed Whitney the most. Her eyes widened, she made a muffled scream, and she tried to get up, but the man's hand still had her pinned to the table. "Your underwear is pink and frilly. How sexy. I'm going to have a good time with you." He said, excitedly.
The man grabbed her and pushed her further up onto the table, so her legs were dangling off. She was kicking, but the man grabbed her ankles and made her stop. He untied and removed her shoes and pulled off her socks. Her feet were cold now, but not for long. The man began to rub her feet, slowly making his way up to her calves. "These are nice feet. You're a pretty good catch, aren't you?" This ticked, but she dared not squirm, for she feared what would happened if she were to accidentally kick him. She felt him tie another length of rope around her ankles.
He stood up and grabbed Whitney's waist. He threw her over her shoulder and made his way out of the house and took a car waiting outside. He opened the trunk and put her inside. This was the first time Whitney caught a glimpse of her kidnapper, just before he just the trunk door.