In part 4....the abduction & the ride from Hell
I was scared, of course, yet oddly composed on my way to the
appointed meeting spot. In fact, I'd been that way all morning, my
composure only slipping during the phone conversation. From the
moment my eyes had opened I'd gone thru the motions of my
preparations, almost finding comfort in the familiar routines. My
terror of the night before had abated to a grim, more resigned
species of fear. I had accepted my fate, and so far my panic had
been kept at bay. I wasn't turned on like I would be about this time
if the game were a safe online roleplay. I really didn't think I
would be turned on either. It was just too real, like I said.
I found him already there--an empty lot behind a store--and
my panic, although beginning to stir was somewhat subdued by my
curiosity. This would be the first real look I'd gotten at Dave so
far that wasn't from a distance. I parked next to him as I'd been
instructed, killed the engine and just sat there. As if to
compensate for so studiously avoiding looking at him the night
before, I was quite openly staring at him now. If I were just
meeting him under different circumstances, I would see a nice-looking
man with startlingly beautiful eyes who happened to look troubled.
He wasn't smiling.
In a flash, he was out of his car and at my window.
"Get out", he commanded tersely while his eyes darted
about. I did so, still staring. I couldn't help noting to myself
how his vibe was the same as it was online somehow. I can't explain
it any better. It was an odd feeling. I knew him, yet we'd never
really met before this moment.
While he was looking elsewhere...assuring himself that no one
was nearby to observe, he lifted the t-shirt he was wearing slightly
and I glimpsed handcuffs and a knife handle protruding from wherever
he'd attached it to his cutoff shorts. Before I could even register
what I'd just seen, I was suddenly spun around by his grip on my arm
and within seconds my wrists were cuffed behind my back, then a ball
gag was shoved into my mouth.
"Open your goddamn mouth!" he was growling, causing me to
start whimpering as I felt the hard rubber ball forcing its way
between my lips and past my teeth. He shoved me into his back seat
to buckle the gag in place tightly, then ordered me to lie down
across the seats.
"Now shut the fuck up", he was muttering, like I could
really say anything.
I was laying on my side, facing the front of the car, my
knees bent to accomodate the small space. My dress had rode up over
my knees somewhat. After throwing a comforter over my prone body,
covering me head to toe, he got back in the driver's seat and I
began to tremble violently as I heard the car start, then felt it
speed up as he drove away with me.
In "Heather Meets the Vile Gamer", I'd described her
abduction as "surreal". I didn't even know what the word meant. I
knew the definition, but not how it really felt to live it. Or maybe
it's just that my own abduction was beyond surreal.
My head was spinning with the suddenness of it all. I'd been
neatly captured and rendered helpless within seconds. The Vile Gamer
himself couldn't have done things more swiftly. While tightening the
gag, he'd said in threatening tones to not make a fucking sound, and
so far I'd obeyed. For what felt like a long time, the only sound in
the car was my frightened rapid breathing, and of course, my
heartbeat. Most likely, only I could hear that, although it sounded
very loud to me. I kept my eyes open, although all I could see was
the comforter over my face. The morning sun was bright, so at least
I wasn't in darkness.
Then Dave broke the silence.
"You know what's going to happen to you....don't you", it
didn't really feel like a question. I made some noise to acknowledge
I'd heard him. Could I have answered properly, I suppose I would
have said "yes,....but not really".
"Well, it's going to get worse"
I think I whimpered again. I'm sure I made some scared
noise. He pulled the cover down some to see my face.
"Can you breathe ok?...thru your nose?", he asked with some
concern, it seemed. I nodded yes. "Are you sure?". I nodded
again. He looked ahead for a moment, probably to see if the light
had changed yet. Apparently it hadn't because he turned his
attention back to me briefly. He pulled the cover down further,
inspectiong my body, smiling....then looked at my face again with
sudden contempt.
"I should shove my whole hand in there...you little bitch"
I felt my eyes widen in horror. I wailed and shook my head.
I think he liked my reaction. He chuckled some, then threw
the cover back over my face again.
As I lay there staring at the muted cottony brightness, the
cuffs holding my wrists tightly behind me, the ball gag keeping my
frightened whimpers from getting loud, I tried to keep my head as
the car continued to speed me to my fate. I tried to keep my growing
panic at bay by repeating to myself, "this is Dave, my friend, Dave!
He won't really hurt me!!" I desperately wanted to believe it too.
Suddenly, I gasped and jumped, startled, as I felt his hand.
The car had stopped briefly and his hand was roaming over my stomach
until it found the area between my legs. He began touching me
then....stroking, exploring...gently but insistently, as if he had
every right. There was certainly no one here to stop him. In my
helpless position I couldn't even swat his hand away. I began making
noises of protest around the rubber ball in my mouth--that was my
only defense as I was being felt up like a piece of prime-cut meat.
"Go ahead," he laughed. "that's just music to my ears".
He went back to driving, but every time he was stopped after
that, I would feel him groping for me again...making the tingles
begin despite my terror.
"Wow...I think you're wet already!" he taunted with glee. I
couldn't feel the wetness yet, but I didn't doubt it. I did feel a
throbbing tingle by this time. The next time we stopped, he reached
for my breasts. He roughly fondled them; making me squeal with pain
as he pinched my nipples. The next time he reached for me I started
to jerk away, trying to twist away from him. There was no escape of
course, but I still tried to elude that rude hand.
"Go ahead....fight me Bitch!"
He sounded angry. My attempts to keep away from him were
only making him grope me roughly. I surrendered then and stopped
trying to pull away. To my surprise, I began to part my thighs when
he reached for me. I told myself I should cooperate and not anger
him with further resistance, but that isn't entirely why I stopped
fighting. The throbbing tingles were becoming unbearable. At that
point I couldn't have moved from his hand if I were entirely free to
do so. His touches had awakened Heather. Although part of me was
horrified at the slutty reactions of my body, I was sort of relieved
she was there.
After what seemed a long time, the car stopped with
finality. I took a deep breath and tried to brace myself for
whatever was to come next. I assumed we were stopped at wherever
this event was to take place. Opening the door closest to my feet,
he pulled the cover off me again. I was glad, because I was starting
to get hot under there. He helped me into a sitting position and I
could feel him removing the cuffs. I was totally unprepared for what
happened next.
I looked around, bewildered. he'd parked in a car wash of
all things. It was one of those coin-op do-it-yourself places, and
it was keeping us hidden somewhat from the busy morning traffic.
"You're going to take a different kind of ride now, " he said
matter-of-factly, "in my trunk".
The calm I'd been trying to maintain all morning suddenly
shattered. I remembered that he'd mentioned putting me there, but I
didn't think he really meant to do it...not on a hot August day!!
The comforter had already made me uncomfortably warm. I was sure I'd
suffocate in a car trunk--if I didn't die of the heat first. I began
desperately shaking my head and screaming unintelligible words behind
the gag.
"I'll BURN UP!!!", I kept shrieking, but I was frustrated
because it couldn't come out as words behind that goddamned rubber
ball.
"What?", he would ask, smiling, knowing I couldn't speak.
Still I shouted it again and again...really starting to lose it now.
Finally he removed my gag.
"Ohgod Dave, please don't put me in there", I pleaded,
probably quite loudly. "I'll burn up!" A sob shook my body and made
my voice pitiful.
"Naaahh", he said pleasantly and nonchalantly as he began to
gather up what looked like tons of rope. He told me to get out, then
he opened the trunk. Oh God, I remember thinking with desperate
fear, it was so tiny!
"Come on Heather," he was saying sternly, but not
unkindly. "get in there....now"
I continued to plead, very near tears.
"Nooo, PLEASE!! you don't have to do that!!"
"But I want to" he was grinning still, but I thought maybe I
saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes...of pity maybe.
"NO! Oh please don't make me get in there! I'll be good!!"
I was pleading like a small child who didn't want to be sent to her
room.
"Get IN there!"
He was getting pissed at me, so with a sob of defeat, I
crawled into the small space and lay on my stomach--terrified of
being locked in there in the dark, unable to move.
He began winding rope around my wrists, which were pulled
behind me once again, then my ankles. It seemed to take forever.
When he was finished I was tightly hog-tied. I'd never been tied
that way before and it was terrible. That has to be the most
helpless feeling in the world. I could move neither my arms nor my
legs, and the ropes were painfully tight. He finished by shoving the
hated ball-gag back in my mouth.
"Ok, get comfortable!" he was saying cheerfully, "it's a long
way back to Ohio".
I turned my head and screamed "NOOO!!!" behind the gag, but
the lid slammed down on my protest and I was alone in this small
space that had suddenly gotten smaller....and darker.... I was fairly
sure he was just kidding about driving back to Ohio with me....but I
really couldn't be sure.
How do I even describe what that ride was like? In many ways
things got much worse that morning, but being locked in that trunk
was the most nightmarish part of the entire episode. Unable to move
my limbs, I tried not to think about the possibility of a car wreck--
I'd be squashed like a bug in a beer can. I tried not to think of
that song by Eminem about the crazed fan who went over a bridge with
his girlfriend in the trunk....and how horrible it would be to die
that way; drowning slowly while hogtied in a trunk. I remember
closing my eyes and dropping my head onto the carpeted floor of my
tiny prison as I told myself there wasn't one damn thing I could do
about any of this. Whatever was to happen would happen.
Surrendering to my helplessness was almost liberating in a way--it
did help to calm me somewhat. For a while anyway. Before things
got really bad, I noted with relief that I wasn't in total darkness.
The inside of the trunk was more dim than anything...as dark as a
back bedroom with the curtains tightly drawn on a bright day. Also,
it wasn't nearly as hot in there as I'd feared. I could even feel
air coming in from somewhere. I was clinging to every little comfort
I could find.
He'd been driving at a fairly sedate pace for a while. I
think he discovered by accident how turning corners or stopping
suddenly would cause me to cry out. Unable to move my arms or legs,
I was helpless to stop my body from sliding, tilting or even rolling
with each turn or lurch of the car. That was a terrible feeling, but
it got much much worse. The first time I'd started to slide with a
turn of the car, I'd made a startled, fearful noise thru the gag,
then I could hear Dave, as though from a very long distance
saying, "Oh good!! I can hear you!" I don't think he'd counted on
the added bonus of being able to hear the cries of his cargo.
The car began to speed up. He was obviously on a bypass or
highway by now and most likely driving the speed limit; however it
felt like he was going 100mph from where I was. Once again I
struggled to push away bloody images of what would be left of me if
we crashed.
Suddenly, the ride went from nightmarishly surreal to
hellishly terrifying. He'd obviously found some country roads.
While in town, the turns and stops were bad enough; unable to
instinctively brace myself with my hands or even hold on to anything,
I'd discovered that leaning away from the turns as much as possible
helped to keep me from at least rolling, even if I still slid some.
Now nothing helped as he began to make sharp crazy turns, sudden
stops and I don't even know what else. All I knew was that I was
being buffeted from one end of that small space to the other...quite
hard sometimes. The motion of the crazily careening car was making
me crash into the sides...my head, my arms, my legs...nothing was
spared as I was cruelly thrown about. At one point, as I was sliding
violently forward, I narrowly avoided being impaled either in my eye
or thru my face by a jutting piece of metal. I don't know what it
was--maybe part of a handle or something. I totally lost it then
and began to scream while hearing my tormentor cackling wildly. Once
I started screaming I couldn't stop. At that point I didn't care if
somebody heard me....I didn't care if Dave got angry....I just wanted
him to stop the car...even if it was only to bitch at me to be
quiet.
Eventually the car did stop. When the lid of my prison was
opened, I lay there, my head turned away from him, dry-sobbing but
at least no longer hysterical as I felt him unwind the rope. I was
feeling an odd mixture of relief, anger, fear, even something like
gratitude as I realized I was about to be freed from that particular
hell.
I could see that we were on some country road, just as I'd
thought, as he helped me out. Behind the excitement on his face, I
thought I detected some anxiety, and even a small measure of remorse
as he almost tenderly helped me into the passenger side of his car.
For the first time I was going to get to ride like a passenger
instead of cargo. He'd even removed that fucking gag. I really had
no idea where we were going or what was next--I was drained after the
trunk ride from Hell, and just glad to be out of there.
"What was that like?", he asked, with what sounded like
genuine curiosity rather than malice. When I answered it came out in
a ragged but perfectly audible half-whisper.
"It was fucked up..."
And that was only the beginning.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
He had instructed me on the way back into town that I was to
walk closely beside him when we reached his hotel..."like we're
boyfriend and girlfriend". I uneasily hoped I wouldn't be recognized
by anybody--but nobody I knew hung out at hotels (at least that I
knew of), and there was nothing I could do about it anyway, so I
agreed to be good. It's kind of funny how resignation can soothe fear
somewhat. After the initial relief of making it inside the hotel
room without being confronted with an in-law or something, my fear
returned as I realized that whatever else happened, it was going to
happen here...behind this locked door. I saw the big bed in the room
and shuddered then quickly looked away. The sheets had been neatly
pulled down as if in preparation for a pleasant nap, or
lovemaking....or a rape.
Once inside, Dave became quite cordial--as if I were an
honored visitor rather than his captive. He bade me sit down, not on
the bed, but rather in the comfortable stuffed chair that most hotels
provide in the nicer rooms. He told me to relax...get comfortable.
He brought me a cup of water.
"I'm sure you could use this", he said kindly as he handed it
to me.
"Yes....thank you", I murmered as I relieved my dry mouth,
throat and lips with it. I was quite sure that his kindness was only
temporary, but I was almost pathetically grateful for it. I could
feel my wound-up nerves calming a bit. He was sitting on the bed and
looking at me as if for the first time. At least his look was
friendly. I noticed how dark his eyes looked in that room....how
hypnotic they were. When they met mine, I found I couldn't quite
look away.
He stood up, then told me to do the same. I obeyed and stood
there nervously as he looked me up and down.
"You really are hot....you know that? You're much better-
looking than in your pictures". I was sort of startled, since I'd
believed the opposite was true.
"Thank you", I whispered....That seemed strange to be
thanking my abductor for a compliment, but it was automatic I guess.
Besides, he really did look impressed--even awed somewhat. The irony
wasn't lost on me...remember, this was my friend who I'd believed
liked me but wasn't really attracted to me.
He began to walk around me, then stopped when he got behind
me. I stood still, trying to wait bravely for whatever was going to
happen. I really wasn't prepared for the kisses on my neck...the
hands gently caressing my shoulders and arms. I couldn't even
remember the last time a man had done that. I'm not sure my husband
ever did. Despite my raging nervousness I could feel myself becoming
aroused again. He stepped in front of me, caressed my hair for a
moment then gently commanded me to kiss him. I found I didn't mind
at all....it was a short kiss, but memorable. As our lips met, I was
aware of my heart racing again.
Breaking the kiss, he stepped back and told me to take my
dress off. I was glad he wasn't going to rip or cut it after all.
Maybe it occured to him that I'd have to go home wearing something.
Slowly I pulled the garment off and dropped it to the floor. Later,
I wondered why I didn't feel any embarrassment about it. I didn't
remove anything else....just stood there in my bra, panties, thigh-
highs and heels--watching his eyes widen as he took in the sight.
"Ohhh...", he breathed as he looked me over. "You really
are very hot....very nice"
I think I almost smiled--he was being way nicer than I'd
expected, at least for now. He looked at my purple lacy bra, the one
where my nipples were subtly, but clearly visible, my black satiny
panties, and my black thigh-high stockings with what looked like
amazement--as if he wasn't expecting the bonus of sexy underwear, and
asked almost shyly if I'd worn all that for him. I did feel some
embarrassment then as I nodded, but why deny it? I realized that
when I bought them a few weeks ago, I'd gotten them to wear for him.
Ditto the dress. I'd been preparing even then.
"Time for a few pictures!" I winced, but I'd been expecting
that. We'd had a controversial discussion online about his plan to
record the whole event for posterity with pictures. I was dead-set
against it and nearly called a halt to the whole thing--of course by
the time he'd informed me of this, it was already too late. He was
coming no matter what I said at that point. However I did try to
talk him out of pictures, fearing I'd end up on the damned internet
someday. I only stopped arguing about it after he gave his word that
no one else in the world would ever see them but himself. Believe it
or not, his promise wasn't entirely what stopped my protests--it was
what he said about wanting to always remember...the pictures being
his proof to himself that it really happened. Call me strange if you
want--call me tenderhearted or even stupid. But there was something
so wistful at the time about his saying that...so genuine, that even
though I couldn't hear his voice when he said it, he sounded for
real, and I trusted him--like I'd trusted him not to kill me.
Remember, we were friends after all, and despite the craziness of it
all, he still was able to touch my heart sometimes. Trust me, I know
how weird it all sounds. I was glad that it was a Polaroid camera at
least.
He produced another pair of handcuffs, but these were
different than the ones I'd had on most of the morning.
"Since I'm such a nice-guy rapist, I thought I'd use these",
he said, grinning. "Fur-lined cuffs....nice huh?"
I sort of shrugged and nodded a little to acknowledge that
yes, as far as rapists go, that was a nice gesture....whatever. I
meekly submitted to having them snapped on my wrists. Once again my
arms were restrained behind me.
Fully expecting to either be ordered or forced onto the bed,
I was somewhat surprised when he told me to sit back down in the same
chair I'd sipped my water in. I obeyed, then felt my face burn as he
pulled my panties off.
"Nice pussy...", he commented, still sounding
impressed. "You trimmed it for me didn't you?" Once again I
nodded. I always try to keep it trimmed, but he was right; just that
morning I'd carefully given it a once-over. How perversely female
can one get??
I sat still as he tied first one leg, then the other to the
legs of the chair--using what seemed to be, once again, miles of
rope. He was still being cordial, but I was beginning to get scared
again. I wasn't planning to attempt an escape, but it's still
disconcerting to be totally helpless--unable to move at all. When he
was finally done, both ankles were tightly held fast at the chair
legs...my arms were behind me, held by the fur-lined cuffs, and my
upper body was secured flush against the back of the chair by all the
rope he'd circled me with, even around my neck. He'd left my bra on,
but pushed the lacy cups down, exposing my breasts.
I nearly panicked again when he took more rope and began to
tie my breasts with it. Around and around each breast he tied the
rope--criss-crossing between them. I'd seen pictures of breast
bondage but had never experienced it. I didn't want to experience it
either! The pictures I'd seen were horrifying--women whose breasts
were barely recognizable because they'd turned colors from no
circulation. I started to wail and beg him to untie them.
"It hurts!!! OOOH IT HURRRTS!!!", I could hear my voice
rising in panic as I kept looking down at them in horror.
"Aw...hell, that's nothing", he said cheerfully. "Think of
it as a bra--it just gives em support."
If I ever had a bra that hurt this much I'd never wear it,
is what I was thinking as I continued begging him to take it off.
"They'll turn BLUE!!", I nearly screamed. I think that's
what scared me the most--seeing my own breasts monsterously squeezed
till they were as ugly as the ones I'd seen in pictures.
"No they won't", he assured me mildly...."Purple maybe"
I could feel tears rising.."OH God....Oh please
Dave....please take it off!! It really hurts!!"
He started to snicker then...started to mock me.
"Oooh it hurts....it hurrrrts!", he said in a prissy voice
that was supposed to be me.
"Gawd...you're such a crybaby".
I despaired when I saw he wasn't going to listen or take
pity. In fact he was balling up my panties and muttering about not
wanting to hear any more. I knew he was about to gag me again so I
tried to appeal to his humanity one more time while I still could.
"Dave....please.....I don't want to be tortured!! I never
wanted to be tortured! I never wanted that. Don't do this to
me...please..."
A cloud seemed to pass over his face. The impish grin
slipped somewhat and he actually looked unsure...like maybe he was
considering my pleas. However that look of hesitation passed and he
quickly shoved my panties into my mouth before I could say anymore.
The look on his face now was one of determination and growing
excitement as he placed lengths of duct tape over my mouth,
effectively insuring that I couldn't spit out the panties, or say
another word.
I was now totally helpless...completely at his mercy.
Whatever he planned to do to me was going to happen. Just like he'd
said on the phone.
And he did a lot.....
* * * * * * * * * *
I felt my eyes widen when he approached me with his knife.
It wasn't an OJ knife---maybe 4 or 5 inches long, but it was wickedly
sharp. Helplessly I felt the sharpness as he trailed it over my
right breast, made even more senstive by the ropes that were pushing
them out. So far they hadn't turned colors yet, and I realized with
some gratitude that he hadn't tied them as tightly as the ones in the
pictures.
I hadn't experienced much knife play--practically none at all
in fact, but I had written of it, and imagined it to be erotically
scary and something of a turn-on. I was unprepared for the
hysterical panic however, when he told me he wanted my nipple as a
souvenier. I was shaking my head and shrieking with terror when I
actually felt the sharp blade against my nipple. Part of me was
trying to tell the rest of me that he surely wouldn't do that....that
he was just fucking with my head. But the horror was that I couldn't
be sure. He sounded serious!
"Just take a deep breath baby...it'll be over in a few
seconds". I think I nearly fainted in my extreme fear, but then he
started to laugh.
"Aw, I wouldn't do that!" I was way too relieved to be
angry with his cruel sense of humor. I kept trying to tell myself
this was just like him. That his torture of me would most likely be
90% mental--as it had been all along. But that's really hard to keep
in mind while being tied up and menaced that way.
As if I'd passed some test and pleased him greatly, or maybe
to make up for the heart attack he'd nearly given me, he untied my
breasts to my great relief. That really did hurt, even if they
didn't turn color.
My relief was short-lived however when he brought out some
clothespins. See, in my exploration of the dark side of sexuality,
I'd read stories and seen pictures of the use of clothespins and once
I'd even decided to put one on my own nipple just to see how it
felt. As I'd slowly released the pressure on one end, and felt the
other end begin to close on my nipple, I didn't even get close to
clipping it all the way. The pain just from that almost-experience
had been unbelievable!! "Fuck that!", I remembered muttering as I
threw the clothespin back where I'd gotten it and wondered how
anybody could possibly stand being clamped with one all the way. I
heard myself whimpering as I saw that I was about to find out.
"Oh, it won't be too bad", he said when he saw my wild
look, "these are mild. I loosened the springs some".
Mild or not, they still hurt like hell....not quite as bad as
the one I'd attempted to try on myself, but no picnic either. He
decorated each breast with four or five in a circle on the flesh
itself, then one on each nipple. I was biting into my panty gag and
whining my discomfort as he stood back to admire his work.
"That's nice...Just hang on while I take a few pictures".
I was able to endure it while he snapped away, much relieved
that it didn't hurt any worse than it did, then sighed with even more
relief when he removed them. Of course, I should have known I
wouldn't get off that easy. The next device he pulled from his
hellish bag of toys looked much more painful. It was simply two
small clamps with a thin chain linked between them.
"This will hurt a lot more", my tormentor informed me with a
devilish smile as he got closer and closer to my breasts.
Instinctively I tried to move away from the ever-advancing clamp, but
of course could only shrink back so far.
The pain was sharp, sudden and very intense as first one
nipple, then the other was tightly pinched by each clamp. I screamed
once, then bit into my gag again, this time much harder. Once again
I had to wait till he got the pictures he wanted--it seemed to take
forever but couldn't have been more than a minute. I could feel
sweat popping out on my face. My head was thrown back, eyes tightly
shut as I repeated over and over to myself, like a mantra, take
it...Take it....you can do it....ohgod just a little longer.... I
suppose I made a perfect picture of agony. Dave seemed pleased as he
held up the pictures one at a time as the images began to appear.
"These are going to be great Babe!" He looked quite happy,
and though I didn't begrudge him that, the pain hadn't abated and I'd
begun to groan, breathing harshly thru my nose with the effort it was
taking to continue bearing it without screaming again.
Dave turned his attention back to his captive model and took
hold of the chain that was now hanging between my clamped tits,
giving it the tiniest of tugs.
"You see the cool thing about this? I can just pull the
chain and yank them right off you!"
I did scream then, pleading with my eyes for him not to do
it. He grinned while gently removing each clamp, to my enormous
relief.
"Nah, I won't be that cruel....this time."
I couldn't help but notice his arousal--very obvious. On one
hand I was horrified and even more scared to know he was taking such
pleasure and being so turned on by my pain. On the other hand,
knowing how my pain affected him fascinated me somewhat. I'd never
explored or even thought about a man getting aroused by making me
suffer. My husband, and any lovers before him were always careful
not to hurt me. Certainly no one had ever tied me up for the express
purpose of hurting me. It was a very foreign concept to me. In a
very real way, Dave was making me feel like my being here, tied to
this chair and enduring the pain he dished out, was a wonderful gift
to him. The way he was acting, smiling and cheerful, he was like a
kid with an awesome birthday and Christmas present combined.
"So!", he exclaimed, still the eager and excited kid, "What's
next?" As though this were a party.
Before deciding, he apparently figured he needed to check the
status of his toy. My bound legs jerked involuntarily when he
suddenly thrust his hand between my legs again--only this time
without the fragile barriers of panties and dress. He seemed
startled, but pleased to find me wet. Actually, wet doesn't really
cover it; I was drenched...gushing....soaked. Testing the waters,
he plunged a few of his fingers deeply into me.
"What a mess you are! You're really into this aren't you?"
I was shaking my head, but he'd disappeared into the bathroom
and paid no attention. I heard him saying that he had something else
for me since I was holding up so well. Oh God..what now?? I just
wanted this to be over. Wet or not, I was sick of being pushed,
prodded, poked at, pinched and bounced around. I was fervently
hoping he was almost done. My ordeal wasn't even halfway over.
