A Chance Encounter

She glided across the dance floor, music blaring, bass thumping, people grinding. Her steps were fluid, magical, ephemeral. Her hips swayed to the music, her arms floating about her in rhythmic patterns, her feet touching the floor there, there, and... there.

She watched him, knowing he watched her. Surreptitiously at first, more demanding as she realized his attention was wholly on her. She should be worried, should be creeped out that in a club full of beautiful women, he had eyes only for her. The thought made her tingle with anticipation, and a gentle flush touched her high cheekbones.

She moved again, this time coming closer, glancing at him, smiling at him. He smiled back at her, the shadows of the room obscuring him, and the dancing lights seeming to illuminate her in pearly incandescence. The light shifts as the music turns again, and the pearly luminescence shatters into a million shards of pulsing red.

A moment, and her world drowns in the crimson lights of the club, and her pulse quickens as she begins to dance purely for him. She knows he's watching, she can feel his eyes on her, watching her, undressing her, wanting her. She shivers at the thought, and she glances back towards his seat.

A smile curls the corner of her lips, and he beckons her over to him, a single flick of the wrist. Her heart thunders in her chest, and a thousand possibilities flood her mind. I'm not sure this is a good idea... Her conscious thoughts are a mere whisper; a single nagging moment quickly lost amidst the chaos of desire and need.

He smiles at her as she sits next to him, a calm smile, a smile full of feral intensity. At his look, her knees begin to tremble and her fingers clinch on her upper thighs in an effort to regain control. He reaches out and gently brushes a curl of loose hair out of her face, his finger tracing an invisible line of fire across her cheek. She shudders at his touch, and the world seems to drop away, leaving her alone with this man, this predator. Fear spikes hard inside her chest, but she cannot seem to make the desire to leave show up in her emotional mindslate. She wants this man, dangerous be damned.

"Hello, girl." His voice is soft, and yet somehow discernible above the tumult and noise of the club, it's sonorous strains slipping between words and notes and chaos to find her ears. She trembles again at the overwhelming power in his voice, and suddenly she knows she will do whatever he asks of her.

"Good evening..." Her voice trails off, hoping to get a name, hoping to find some way to link him to something less ephemeral than a feral arousal and the dampness between her thighs.

He grins at her, his voice just as soft as before, but this time the timbre of his tone has adjusted slightly, and the gentleness of his voice belies the iron-hard command that rings within it. "Sir. You may refer to me as Sir, girl." A thrill shimmers through her body, only adding to the slow burn building in her cunt, and the final screams of protest from that tiny little voice that knew better was quashed into stillness.

"Yes, Sir. I..." She struggles to find something, anything to say to this man, something that would engage him, keep him entertained, interested. "I'm pleased to meet you." Lame, and she knows it, but what else could she say? She glances at the floor, nervousness shimmering along her spine.

He smiles again, almost as if he could see her tremors, as if he could sense her anxiety. "Come with me."

The command was filled with such a certainty of obedience that she did. She couldn't explain how or why, but gods help her, she obeyed. The obedience didn't stop when he walked out of the club, nor when he opened the back door to his car, nor when he pulled away and drove out of the city and into the countryside.

The ride was comfortable, quiet. Strains of soft classical music played from the radio, and she found herself being lulled into a sense of complacency by the monotony of the lights flashing by the tinted window.

The door suddenly opens, and she stumbles quickly to catch herself before falling out onto the pavement. Her mind is bleary with sleep, and she barely begins to find coherence before a strong hand grabs her firmly by the back of the neck. "Come."

The monosyllabic command came with intense force, and he drew her out of the car into near total darkness. She gasped in a mixture of pain and surprise, and struggled only briefly before she was shoved hard over the hood of the car. Confusion was suddenly mingled with arousal as he forced her hands back behind her and quickly bound them together, expertly restraining them just at the point where the stretch could become pain. "What... what's going on?" She mumbled, breathless suddenly, desire heating her voice to a sultry timbre.

He didn't answer her, instead sliding some sort of hood over her head, blocking out what little light remained. She could hear his breathing somehow, his long slow breaths sounding like the breath of god in her ears over the pounding of her heart in her chest. She could feel him behind her, a malevolent presence that beckoned to her like a flame to a moth. She knew he was dangerous, she could feel it in every pore of her trembling body, and yet... and yet, she wanted this man more powerfully NOW than before.

"Come." Again the monosyllabic command, and again the gentle but firm hand guided her from the back of her neck. He led her through a doorway and what seemed like a long hallway. She could hear nothing but the soft clicks of their shoes against the hard surface of the hallway, and the occasional rustle of their clothing. She couldn't even tell if the hall was lit or not, the darkness inside her hood was so absolute. She felt nothing against her skin, other than that the air here was warm and dry, without any noticeable current to its movement.

It seemed they walked a long way before he suddenly ordered her to stop and stand there unmoving. A sound suddenly erupted in the air before her, as if a large door was suddenly opened and she could feel the suction of its passing. She drew in a deep breath, as if knowing what was about to come.

"You are at a threshold, girl." His voice was soft, the iron strength of command replaced with a tone of absolute confidence and surety. "If you pass this threshold, you will belong to me. After this, there will be no turning back, Pandora's box will have been opened, and you'll never regain the innocence and ignorance in which you have lived your life to this point."

A sudden chill passed through her, the thrill of fear drawing a knife's edge down her back and dampening her arousal. What did she want from this man? And what did he mean when he said she'd belong to him? Uncertainty clouded her mind for but a moment, destroyed in the heartbeats after its inception by the raging flame of her desire and curiosity. She had to know.

Tentatively she stepped forward, free of his hand on her, making her decision with certainty and poise. She could not see it, but she knew that he smiled at her, and a thrill of pleasure at knowing that she had been the cause of that smile tingled at the base of her spine.

This was how she found herself bound, naked and trembling, a dark hood over her head, her hands stretched above her head, her skin prickling with the gentle chill in the air, the unknowable sounds of the man that had captivated her, drawn her in all around her. She yearned for his touch, could feel the faint lines of his fingertips on her like fire, and all she could think of in her desire-clouded mind was one simple question.

"What next?"