A commission I had tons of fun writing. Based the girl in the story on one of my friends, haha.
-
Travis felt dizzy as he started to wake up. The room had a pleasant atmosphere, illuminated by candlelight, and with the scent of incense permeating the place. This, complete with the calming music, was the perfect set up to come back to, after a long session of meditation turned into an accidental nap. But Travis wasn't the yogi type. In fact, he still smelled of perfume and alcohol, which made sense since his last memory was of partying at a club. As he came to his senses, he tried to sit up, but something around his wrists and ankles prevented him from doing so.
This had the same effect as having a bucket of water poured on him. He became lucid, and he struggled against his bindings. They were leather cuffs, the same type BDSM lovers used for their bondage play. They seemed to go and join under the bed. He looked down at himself. He still was wearing his velvety bordeaux shirt, his fine black pants and his elegant black shoes. This barely made him feel any safer. How had he gotten to this situation? He wasn't the kind to get black out drunk, and wake up under the whip of some vixen going all dominatrix on him. On one hand, he wasn't that irresponsible with alcohol. On the other, he wasn't the most deviant person out there, but whenever things got more on the kinky side, he definitely wasn't the one being tied up. Could he really have been roofied? But men didn't get drugs slipped in their drinks. That was something only women had to worry about. Which was sad. Nobody should be worrying about that, but still...
He hadn't noticed the door. He looked up at it when it opened, its hinges creaking, as a kind looking woman came into the room. She was on the shorter side, with a small frame, but wider hips. Her hair was blonde and full of tiny curls, tied up in a low ponytail. She wore casual clothing: a graphic t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Travis stared at her in confusion. She just gave him back a gentle smile. He threw his head back into the pillow and started laughing, when he understood the situation. 'Hurr hurr hurr. Very funny. Now get me out of here, Martin!'
Nobody responded. The girl didn't lose her good mood. She sat on the bed next to him, and settled in like she owned the place. She indulged herself in watching Travis' chiseled face. The man felt quite uncomfortable with her attention. She had hazel eyes, the irises framed by a darker ring towards the edge, and her stare was intense, despite coming from behind of a pair of glasses. Her lips were very rosy, despite the lack of any product on them. They were thin, but with a delicate, feminine shape. She kept pressing them together, like she couldn't wait to indulge in a delicious dessert. 'Martin! If you're gonna hire a whore as a joke at least choose a hot one! Now come untie me!'
'Why do men always go for physical appearance, when they want to degrade a woman?' she asked with a pleasant voice. Despite her question, she wasn't annoyed. She seemed amused, in fact. She leaned towards him, to give him a closer look. 'I'm not a prostitute. And there's no Martin here. Who is he? One of the guys who was with you at the club?'
The hairs on the back of Travis' neck were standing on their ends. If she was telling the truth, the fact that she knew where he had been was unnerving. 'If it wasn't Martin, then who hired you?'
She chuckled. 'No one. This isn't a prank. I brought you here. Slipped something in your drink. It was easy to pretend you were my drunk boyfriend, and I was helping you get home. The taxi driver didn't question anything.' Despite her explanation, she was far from looking creepy, or perverted. She still looked like the nice girl next door.
'I have a hard time believing that. Men don't get roofied.'
'Yet here you are.'
Travis glared at her. He wanted to seem angry, but when he looked around, he did so with the secret expectation that one of his friends would bust through the door, saying he had been pranked. He focused back on the girl. 'Why me?'
'I just couldn't take my eyes off of you at the club. I even went up to you and talked to you.' Her voice adopted a dreamy tone, as she recalled the sight of the handsome bachelor under the lights of the bar. 'You don't remember me?' Her hazel orbs drew in Travis' blue ones. That phrase, it was like a trigger for a repressed memory. Several beautiful women he had danced with flashed before his eyes. And among them, fading to the background in his memories due to how unremarkable she was, the short girl with puffy hair, who was way too straight forward given she was playing out of her league. He wasn't mean about turning her down, and she seemed to take it well too. Who knew she would react like this. 'You remember.' The girl told him, seeing realization on his face. 'I'm Dani. And I brought you here because I want you to get me pregnant.' She stated, matter-of-factly.
Travis stared at her. He would have laughed if he wasn't so unnerved. 'Err, that won't happen. I told you already. I'm not into you. Sorry.' He should be more angry, but despite being a man, tied down like this he didn't have the upper hand. He didn't know what she was capable of, and didn't want to set her off.
'Oh, it's okay. I'll have sex with you to get your sperm, but I don't need your consent.' She brought a finger to her lips, and looked up at the ceiling. 'You can say it's rape, I guess.'
'Women can't rape men.' Travis barked at her. Now that she was revealing her intentions, his fight or flight response was getting activated, and running away wasn't an option. 'Unless, what? Are you gonna shove a cucumber up my arse?'