Marissa awoke naked, save her bonds and a blindfold. She knew not where she was or how she got there. She felt some anxiety, but surprisingly, no fear.
A cool damp breeze wafted across her body, raising gooseflesh. It smelled so faintly of decay, you could almost call it musty, and something else, something sweet. It reminded her of jasmine, but not quite.
Although she was still a little groggy she cast out her senses to gain further knowledge of her surroundings. She could hear the faint sound of water drops falling, several seconds apart, somewhere distant. The accompanying echo told her that it originated probably down a long passageway. There was an even fainter sound, more an underlying rumble that suggested the sound of waves.
She tried to remember back to the night before. She recalled going out alone to a club along the boardwalk. She had been careful. Not having the multi-layered protection of her usual posse of girlfriends she had paid scrupulous attention to her drink. She never left for the dance floor and returned to drink from the same glass. She never accepted a drink from a stranger, but here she was with no memory of how she got here.
She squirmed on the seat to relieve a pressure spot on her bottom. The chair to which she was tied was straight-backed, wooden. The seat and back were covered with a satin-like material. Her wrists and ankles were tied to the arms and legs of the chair with soft line. Her knees were also bound to the chair legs, leaving her legs open and her womanhood exposed. If she hadn't been still under the influence of whatever drug it was she would have felt quite vulnerable.
Another breeze, stronger this time, blew across her flesh. It raised goose flesh again and caused her nipples to harden. The breeze caressed her open slit and she felt...excitement.
"Marissa," she told herself, "Get a grip on yourself. This is no situation to let yourself get aroused."
She felt it anyway. The anxiety that coursed through her body was inlaid with a sense of arousal. She could only guess it was an after-effect of the drug that had allowed her to be brought here.
She heard footsteps.
Directly in front of her was the unmistakable sound of footfalls. They came from a distance, probably from down the corridor she'd sensed earlier. Her breathing and heart rate increased. They came closer, rhythmic, unhurried, and steady. She felt a tingling between her thighs.
The steps came closer. She braced for what may be coming. They came closer still. She could taste fear in her mouth. Whoever it was, however, passed on by with not so much as a break in stride. She felt slightly, inexplicably, disappointed.
This perplexed her. She considered calling out, but thought wiser of it. She listened for anything else. She heard more footsteps.
This time she could sense two distinct sets of footsteps, one sure and one uneven, like an old man. They came closer and split to go both sides of her and continued on. A satiny fabric brushed across her right breast and shoulder. It sent a shudder through her body that rippled from her shoulder to between her legs.
Minutes passed by, but they felt like hours before she heard a new set of footsteps. These were less purposeful, more hesitant. The stride was uneven as if one leg was lame. Slowly, tentatively they approached closer. Whoever it was walked up and stood in front of her. She heard the rustle of fabric. She smelled jasmine again and some other sweet scent. She could hear ragged breathing.
She wasn't sure, but thought she could hear a rhythmic rubbing sound. The thought occurred to her that there was a man in front of her and he was masturbating. Still feeling the effects of the drug, it excited her in a perverse sort of way. She heard more footsteps. She heard a rustle of cloth again and the person in front of her left hurriedly. She heard his footfalls pad down the corridor.
