Stockholm Syndrome Read Free Page A

The Chase. No
person may hurt or injure another. Force may be used, but carefully moderated
so as not to cause harm to fellow participants. A safe word may be used by any
participant at any time, and if used, all activities must immediately stop, and
the person who is safe-wording must be attended to and made comfortable.”
    Owen paused at this point and looked around at the rapt
audience.
    “The safe word for this year is exit,” he said. “Please all
repeat it three times.”
    They all chanted in unison. He nodded, satisfied.
    “If you are unable to speak then three claps, clicks, or
taps will be the safe signal. Does everybody understand?” A chorus in the
affirmative followed.
    “To continue, all activities for The Chase will take place
on the campus. If you leave the campus, you terminate your participation. We
have guards at all the gates, and if you pass them, you’re out. This entire
facility has been made available for the use of the participants for
twenty-four hours.” He gestured widely, indicating the residence and the
grounds beyond, and grinned. “It was neither easy nor cheap to arrange. As
always, our cover story is that we are holding an esoteric retreat for
meditation and relaxation.” Sniggers and sarcastic comments flew around the
room.
    “There are private rooms upstairs, and a communal session
will be held in this room. Women who want to participate in the communal
session after capture will wear a black armband on their right arm. If you
catch a woman wearing an armband, you must bring her here, not to a private
room.”
    Mason assumed that the communal session referred to an orgy,
and watched with interest as a bag of armbands passed around the women. He
estimated that about a third of them took one and put it on. It was going to be
a riot of an orgy! He wouldn’t be looking for a woman with an armband though—he’d
had his share of orgies, some of them while playing The Chase, but it wasn’t
what he wanted tonight.
    “Just a few more points!” Owen clapped again. “You may not
use drugs during The Chase, and that includes roofies. No photography is
permitted. The kitchen will be open, and snacks and drinks will be available.
Do not, at any time, leave any participants alone while tied up, or in any
position where they could come to harm in your absence. At all times, consider
the safety and comfort of your fellow participants. And finally, a very
important point…” he shouted over the rising excitement, “absolute secrecy is
to be maintained about The Chase. Do not speak about it to anybody except your
fellow participants. Do not email about it, or post about it on any of your
social media sites, don’t blog about it. If the secret gets out, it will be the
end of The Chase. Would you like that?”
    “No!” roared sixty-five voices.
    “Then don’t do anything fucking stupid!” shouted Owen. “Now
does anyone have any questions?” Nobody made a sound. Owen moved back to the
table.
    “Then it’s time to come up and sign The Pact. Form a line
please, ladies first.”
    By the time Mason reached the table, most of the others had
already signed. He saw that Owen slid a piece of card down the list of names
and signatures, effectively covering the ones above so that each person could
see only his or her own name.
    When everybody, including Owen himself, had signed, he
folded up The Pact and placed it, along with various other papers and the notes
taken by the woman, into the strongbox. He then made a show of locking the box
and hanging the key on a short, sturdy chain around his neck.
    “In twenty-four hours, assuming all goes well and we don’t
need to access any of those documents, I’ll take the strongbox back to the
safe-storage facility where it will be kept until next year.” He returned to
his spot at the front of the room. The excitement was reaching a fever pitch,
and he had to clap several times before the crowd quieted down.
    “It is almost time for The Chase to