He had me on the bed. The mattress was firm, blankets thick, woven, and probably very nice. I squirmed away, only managing to scoot further back onto the bed before he grabbed me by the ankle.
"Where are you going?" he asked. His lips turned up at the corners. He had such a nice face. Perhaps that's why I had trusted him in the first place. "I've had girls here before. Trust me, the neighbors are too far away to ever hear you screaming. Plus, I know you're pretty worn out from all that ruckus you made in the car. Stop struggling."
He yanked my ankle properly, unbalancing me so I fell back. then he disappeared from view. I struggled to catch sight of him again, seeing he had bent under the bed. He came up again, one hand still around my ankle and the other dragging a heavy chain out from under the bed.
I couldn't help it. My voice was worn out from being in the car, screaming against a gag fashioned with my own underwear--but my legs weren't. I kicked. Two--three times, and surprised him enough to get loose.
We looked at each other a moment, both of us surprised, before I rolled off the bed and away from him, scrambling to my feet and heading for the door.
He caught my wrist first, yanking me again and my momentum spun me into the door jamb. I hissed, feeling a hot knot forming at my right temple.
"Careful," he urged, chuckling. He swept me into his arms, crossing them over my own struggling elbows and pinning them to my sides. then he lifted me, my feet dangling. "Maybe it was too soon to untie you, huh? Feisty. I like your energy."
He threw me onto the bed again, and climbed on after me as I tried to scurry away. He was an average sized man, but muscular and with large hands that quickly brought me back into position on the mattress. I felt my lips quivering and my head pounded still as he pinned me down with his body, using one hand to force me to look into his face.
He smiled. I sobbed, voice breaking in my aching throat. "Now now, isn't this nicer? Don't struggle, you'll just get hurt," he said again, grinding his hips into me. He was wearing thick, sturdy working jeans but I could still feel a bulge there--stiff against my exposed thigh.
He let his hand slip down from my chin, caressing my neck and I coughed. "Shhh..." I gulped air, frightened. I could feel my pulse throbbing against his fingers.
The man tightened his grip then, and the smile left his face. Instead it was replaced with a grim line. He was cutting off my air. I clawed at his hand with my own, the only one not pinned under him. His grip was firm.
"Stop," he said. I let my hand fall back to the bed, and he let up. I took a shallow, shuddering breath. Then another. he peered at me with the same determined look.
"Haven't I shown yet that you can't get away from me?" he said. "If you behave, I won't need to hurt you. Be a good girl. Got it?" My head pounded. Yes. I nodded.
The smile came back. "You remember when we came in. Just miles of farm. No where to run to." His hand relented, and I gulped a deep, true breath. I dared not move.
He tilted my head to the side, nibbling on my neck so intimately I shuddered again. "You smell good," he said. "Now lie still."
The man propped himself up on his elbows, looking at me a moment to see what I would do. When I didn't move, he slid off of me and leaned over the foot of the bed. I heard the chain clink, and flinched. His eyes flicked over to me, and the corner of his mouth came up again. He shook his head. "You made it necessary," he said, showing me the cuff and padlock at the end. I shook my head frantically.
"Don't give me those pitiful eyes. This stays on until you can prove you're a good girl." He grabbed my ankle again, squeezing meaningfully before placing the padded metal cuff and replacing the padlock. The key he slipped into his shirt pocket.
"You know what, I think you've lost the right to your hands too." He retrieved my pantyhose from the floor, using them to rebind my hands behind me. I felt my lips quivering again, and bit down on my lips trying not to cry. It only hurt my throat, and made my head pound more, and made him amused.
My hands were soon fastened again, and he took a couple steps back to get a good look at me. "I hope you appreciate that cuff. It's hard to find them padded like that." He grinned. "I'm gonna go lock up the house."
And he turned and left, simply shutting the door behind him. I wailed, more terrified now that I was alone...
The bedroom was a simple one. Besides the bed (king size) and a chest of drawers, there was an adjoining bathroom to which the door was open. The only light was from a lamp on the far side of the room. Wait... There was another fixture on the ceiling, but the switch was over by the door. The bed frame was heavy oak and the chain was thick... secure. I was secured.
When my sobbing and coughing wore down to hiccups, I slipped off the bed. The chain clinked no matter which way I moved, so I didn't bother tiptoeing. The one window in the room was sealed shut. Looked as if the jamb had been painted over and there was a bar on the outside. Impossible, with my hands tied behind me. Next, the bathroom. The chain fell short before I could even touch the doorjamb. I shivered; the wooden floor was leeching what little warm my exposed body had. All I had left was my little black dress, and I secretly cursed myself. I
shouldn't have gone out tonight.
I sank to the floor, not even bothering to try to reach the other door or the lamp. Both were too far way. My bare ass was chilled by the flooring too, but I had no place else to go.
Soon I heard footsteps. The door opened, and I could see the man had really settled in for the night. He was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and moccasins. He had a plastic cup in one hand, and a bag in the other. He chuckled again.
"Maybe if you're good tonight I'll let you use the bathroom," he said in response to my glare. I felt my bladder contract painfully. My mouth was so dry. I hadn't considered the bathroom for hours.
"Up, awkward duckling. To the bed with you. I've brought some water." My bladder contracted again, but the dryness in my mouth won out, and I levered myself from my knees to my feet and went over to the bed. He set the bag down by the door before bringing the cup to me and putting it to my lips. I drank, only choking once.
"Good girl," he said. His bare chest showed a more impressive musculature than I had expected; built pecs and arms. I felt the fear coming back.
He indicated that I stay still as he set the plastic cup down on the floor. He looked me over again. "No matter how often I look at you, you do it for me every time. Look at this," he said, gesturing at his crotch where his erection was straining. Now that he was only wearing flannel, I could see he was long. More than 6 inches. I felt my mouth drop. I hadn't considered it, but I didn't really expect a man who kidnapped his dates to have a sizable cock.
He took a hand then, pulling the fabric taut against himself. "I'll have you begging for this, watch. Lie down."
I didn't move.
"Lie down!" he shouted.
I fell back, lying on my hands. I wasn't sure I'd be able to get myself back up. When I heard him stepping away, I craned my neck.
He had gone for the bag. He pulled from it a pair of safety shears with plastic guards on the tips. He looked back at me. "Lie still," he said.
I watched him walk back to me. My throat felt better now, with the water, but I didn't scream. I just bit my lips as he straighten the fabric of my dress, and snipped at the bottom hem. When I understood his purpose, I squirmed.
He slapped my thigh, "Stop moving." I tensed, every muscle still as his shears made their way up the front of my dress, finally closing on the hem at my neck. "Much better," he said. He returned the shears before peeling the dress back, pushing it down my shoulders till it threatened to tangle up my hands. My nipples were hard already, from the cold. It spite of myself, I clung to the warmth of his hands as he undressed me.
He crawled up on the bed with me then, kicking off his slippers. Breathed against my neck, and I shivered from something other than the cold.
"Don't turn your face from me, sweetheart," he whispered in my ear. His hand run up my side and cupped the curve of my breast. His thumb played with the nipple. "You''ll like it, I swear." I clung to his warmth, it was so cold in the room. I could feel his erection on me; hot and stiff even through the flannel.
"No," I said, quietly. "I won't. I will not."
He laughed in my ear, nibbling on my neck again. My head pounded.
"Stop it," I said.
"Well," he offered, "If you don't want my dick in that slutty cunt of yours we can always do something else." I didn't like the tone of his voice.
