I was playing golf with the Sultan on his back nine, making sure I let him win (hey, he's one of my clients and it was his course,) again, and the subject of business came up.

"I am looking for another woman for my harem. The 21 I have now are beginning to bore me," he said, right after teeing off with abominable slice into the water hazard again. "I would like you to go back to Hollywood and find me another star for my pleasure."

Ahhh...yes...the soft cush of bills. I was the best at what I did, and the Sultan made no bones about compensating me at my full market value. Depending on the actress or model, I may be able to buy that island, I thought, as I made sure to land in the sand trap again.

"No problem your excellency, you know I can pack up the little honey you want and have her on your stoop for the right price. Word is Carmen Electra's been pretty loose around sunset strip after the breakup with Rodman, getting drunk...not being careful--"

"No!"

The Sultan's forceful reply made me jump.

"I have plenty of largebreasted women, emptyheaded models bowing to my pleasure. I want intellectual stimulation with my beauty."

"Okay, who?"

"I want Winona Ryder."

I nodded. Good choice. I was actually a fan. She was gorgeous, even though she was against the type this despot wanted. I mean...Jenny McCarthy was wearing a thong toting my clubs for chrissakes. Big boobs, hourglass figure, voluptous butt (damn shame Jennifer Lopez was offed in a funky snuff video a while back by The Boss and the Mach 9 boys, I probably could have sold her to him. That butt was a goldmine). Ryder was like a fine statue carved from crystal. I almost hated to end her movie career, but business is business.

Despite my best efforts, I beat the Sultan by ten strokes. With 500 grand up front, and another half mill coming after, I was back in Hollywood--all expenses paid.

* * *

I stalked my prey, gauged her daily movements for two weeks, to the point I swear I knew where Ms. Ryder was going before she did. On this Wednesday evening, she would be walking back to her car from her favorite salon (she got a trim every couple weeks). She always slid out the back, and was on a 50-yard stretch of unlit back streets. And there I was, with my trusty white van (of course!) , some ace wrap, duct tape, and a big fucking syringe full of horse tranquilizer (exp. 11/3/71) that I got cheap at a government auction. I won't lie to you...I was getting rather titillated by the whole thing. Why else would I kidnap celebrities even though I had more money than I could spend in my lifetime? I hopped out right before I timed her turning of the corner.

There was no margin for error. This would probably be my only chance without paparazzi or fans or bodyguards around. If I screwed up here, she may never be alone in public again. Dressed as a vagrant, I slumped down next to another transient (who was passed out) and had my tin cup ready. The starlets always felt guilty for the Beggar with the Harmonica. They were like Lemmings before a cliff. Winona was fished in hookline and sinker. When she rounded that corner, she leaned over to place some change (cheap bitch.) in my cup, I grabbed her wrist with one hand, produced a switchblade, and her beautiful eyes widened in fear, and her soft mouth opened to scream.

"Don't do it. Or I shred your wrist, and you bleed to death." I pulled the racquetball from my pocket.

"What are you gonna do to me," she asked, voice wavering. ]

"First, I'm handing you this ball to shove in your mouth. Then you don't talk anymore."

She took the ball and gingerly parted her lips.

"That's it, Noni, behind your teeth...as far as it will go."

I rose, took a quick look around, and led her to the van, and sat her down inside.

Only when I flipped on the dome light was I able to take in her full beauty. Yes, the Sultan had taste, I thought, as I shed my bum's garb, revealing my true self. Her brow furrowed, and she mewled behind her mouth packing. I put a stop to that by wrapping the lower half of her face with the sportswrap. Strong bands of fabric. Her cheeks, flecked with tears already, bulged nicely over her tight gag. She raised a trembling hand to wipe them away. I smacked it down.

"No! Let them run down your face."

I shoved her onto her belly, and taped her wrists together, then her elbows. I then wrapped up her ankles and knees. Nice package. Helpless.

I turned Winona over onto her back, and couldn't resist a quick feel. She grunted, trying in vain to squirm out of my grip. But no. I was in control here. I pulled out the syringe. It was 6 inches long, fat too. I raised it to her face, and pressed down the plunger, and thick sedative squirted out, and the tears came in force. I thought I could make out "please no," and "don't" from her gagged mouth, but it was hard to tell since she was sobbing so much.

"Now rest assured, that when you wake up, your life will be changed, irreversibly."

With my knife I cut a slit up her right pantleg, and jammed the needle in, and watched her eyes gently flutter shut, and her spirit seep away, as the anesthetic took hold.

I started the van, and headed off to crate her up for shipment.

THE END (?)