The Van

The following story has themes of misogyny, non-consent sex, humiliation, abuse and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is an erotic FICTION story not meant as any sort of political or societal protest. This is purely for entertainment and never meant to happen in reality.

Nervous doesn't describe what I feel right now. I don't even think there is a word that would describe it. Nervous, scared, intimidated, embarrassed, ashamed? Is there a word that encompasses all those emotions? If not, then their should be.

I'm Maria. Hi. I'm a 19 year old college student in need of money. No, not money for drugs or booze or anything like that, but for tuition. I'm on a payment plan, and have just two weeks to come up with close to $3,000.

I do have a job, but it's part time and pays crap. Anyway, I have to use the money from work for things like gas and supplies for college. I did get a few scholarships, but they were only partials. I need money and need it fast.

And no, I can't ask my parents. They have enough to get by and that's it. Plus I don't want to ask them. I want to pay my own way and not be one of the ones that have to go to Mommy and Daddy.

I thought I had it all figured out. I had a budget and was sticking to it. Most of my college was to be paid by various scholarships that I earned. Only one of my scholarships changed its distribution schedule. So instead of paying all in one semester, it would pay over the course of two years, thus leaving me owing money. And with all the crap that comes from student loans, I decided not to go that route.

Now, I am super-nervous about the money because if I can't get it, it means I may have to leave college. But it is not the reason I'm super, mega, extra nervous at the moment. You see, I did something I know is stupid, dumb, idiotic, and any other words like that you can think of.

You ever see one of those postings on Craigslist or Reddit asking for "local models?" I answered one of them. I know, I know. I'm desperate. So desperate that I applied. Me. The one they called "Head of the Nerd Brigade" in high school. The one that memorized D&D rules for fun so I didn't need to look at the book during challenges.

I'm nervous to be doing this, and nervous that they may not accept me. The only saving grace to all of this, is that it's not porn. It's just an interview. Sure, it's going to be a gross interview where they ask me a lot sexual questions, where I'm supposed to answer with sexy things while staring at the camera.

I have a feeling they will like me just fine, even if they see me for the big nerd I am. I, sort of have something they would want. Yeah, boobs. Big boobs. I wear the largest cup bra than anyone I know. Most of the time, it's a pain to have such large boobs. They get in the way, they move all the time, it's hard to sleep in a comfortable position, and they hurt your back. But every so often, they come in handy, like for this adventure.

When they responded to me, they wanted a current picture. I also had to write the current date on a piece of paper along with the word "banana" so they could prove it was really me. The picture I sent was a normal picture, with me sitting at my computer in a t-shirt and jeans. Only I made sure that my chest size could be seen.

I'm not trying to imply that I'm ugly or anything. Not at all. It's just I don't go for normal female stuff a lot, like makeup. I do that only on special occasions, like a date, or a fancy party or something. Same thing with wearing dresses. I'll wear that stuff, but not often.

In fact, I think I'm very pretty. Not in a classical, prom queen manner, but a home-style sweet neighbor way. I think my prettiness is helped by the fact that my body is petite. I've never really weighed that much, even as a kid.

I actually had a boyfriend that admitted he asked me out because he thought I was some porn star named "Addison." When I looked her up, I could see why he thought that, not that I agreed. I'm a mixed child of a black and white set of parents so my skin tone was the same as hers with a light brown tone, and my body is very small like hers. And for both of us, our large boobs seem a bit out of place on our body.

Anyway, I sent the adult company people my picture and they wanted to move forward. They sent me some paperwork for me to read and sign, but the only thing I was truly interested in, was the money. If this was going to pay $50, then no, they can go suck it. If it pays $1,000, then I would be very interested.

Come to find out, the standard price for a recorded interview is $5,000. Seeing that I damn near went running to them. After reviewing the paperwork they sent, I'm more than happy to go forward. They have an "uncomfortable" clause that states that they cannot force or pressure me into doing anything I'm uncomfortable with. All I have to do is say I'm uncomfortable and everything stops.

Thus I stated I was uncomfortable with having sexual relations with any strangers or people I didn't know. Come to find out, they didn't want me to have sex. They explained it would be more of a real interview, with me getting asked questions of an adult nature. Since I can lie my ass off, I said sign me up!

Being me, I did look into the company to make sure it wasn't some sicko with a camcorder. Yep. It's a real company alright. Porn company, but a company nonetheless. No shady dealings, no lawsuits, no sexual harassment, not even a complaint on BBB. I couldn't find any sites with these "interviews" but I sort of expected this. It was explained that it would be a new series and they are filming the videos now. Once they have enough, they'll put them online.

Now, the interview is today. Well, it's actually when they come pick me up. We agreed that they could pick me up at whatever location I wanted for my safety. So I said the local public park where there are cameras, people and more.

They'll pick me up, take me to their studios, then bring me back. Said the shoot would take about an hour at most. That if I'm flirty and real enough, it could even take much shorter. But it was really that simple.

I'm sitting out front of the park along the fountain they have. This is sort of a drop off/pick up point as cars seem to be constantly coming and going as people come and go. Mainly for kids to go play on the playground, but an awful lot of joggers getting dropped off by Uber.

A blue van drives into the parking lot. A van coming in isn't that odd, but the van is. It's the first van I think I've ever seen with that many windows. It's a little bigger than a normal van and has clear windows all around. There's so many windows I can plainly see rows of bench seats behind the driver.

Then I spot a camera on a tripod behind the driver pointed back. When I see that, my heart skips a beat. Could that be them? If so, it is sort of odd. Isn't it? I don't really know. Never been in this situation before. Do they pick up people in vans?

I spot the driver who looks like a normal 40 year old guy. He's clean shaved and looks rather bored. Then I spot the guy who is sitting in the bench seat behind the driver. This bench seat is reversed so it faces the seat behind it. I didn't see him at first as there's some sort of divide between the front with the driver and the back. The guy in back looks young, like he is in his 20s. From the look of him, he's very muscular and tattooed.

This blue van then drives up right in front of me and stops. The side door facing me then opens and the young guy steps out. When he does, I can see he's much larger than I thought. Damn, he has to be at least 6'2". The guy towers over me. How the hell he even fit in that van?

"Hello Maria, how are you?" He greets with a rather warm tone while giving me a smile. My heart does skip again, mainly because it means that yes, this is them. This is the porno-I mean adult company.

"What? Oh yes. I'm Maria," I stammer out, taken back. I thought they would send a normal car, and it would just be a driver. Didn't expect this. Didn't expect a professional wrestler picking me up.

"I'm Thomas. I'll be filming you today. First, I know this all is probably overwhelming and embarrassing, but there's nothing to be nervous about. We will stop whenever you feel you want to," he tells me in a warm and caring manner, as if he doesn't want me to have any fear about this. He makes sure to look me in the eyes so I can he means what he says. I give a polite smile in return.

I don't know why, but I get a strange feeling from him. He seems really nice and he's well-groomed, but I get a bad vibe. I think it's all the tattoos. He's wearing a t-shirt that shows his muscles, but every inch of both arms are tatted. Even his neck has tats. Makes him look really scary. If I'm being honest, he looks like he should be playing a gangster on tv.

"You ready?" He asks, motioning to the van. I tell him I am, then let him help me get into the van. He directs me to sit in the second row, right in the middle, right opposite of the camera which faces me. I stare at the camera, thinking how intimidating it also looks.

Thomas gets into the van and shuts the door. He then tells the driver we are good to go, and the driver slowly takes off. It does make me feel better that the driver isn't putting his foot down to speed off but instead is careful. He even looks around to make sure no kids have run in front of the van.

"I...I thought this was going to be a studio," I ask while pointing to the camera on the tripod facing me. Thomas sits to the side of the camera and then looks at it. He presses something on it, as if checking it.

"It was, but they decided at the last moment that this would be a more interesting setting. Between you and I, I really think they are having the place fumigated or something and don't want anyone to know," he says, his voice low as if to not let the driver know. I laugh a polite chuckle at this, trying to hide how worrisome that makes me.

"If you don't mind, how about you tell me your name and age?" He asks, looking into the view-piece of the camera. My heart starts to pound at this, as it means he's starting. That I'm really going to do this. I'm doing this sex work job thing.

Nervous, I sit up straight. I then try not to play with my clothes, which is what I do when I'm nervous. For this occasion, I wore a long sleeve black top, which has a tiny bit of a low cut, so some cleavage can be seen. And for pants I'm wearing a black pair of jeans that are somewhat tight. I've truthfully never worn these before as they are so uncomfortable, but thought this would be the perfect time.

"I'm Maria de la Cruces and I am 19 years old," I tell him, or the camera, or both. I look at him when I say this, but then at the camera, and then back to him. Which do I look at? Why doesn't he tell me? Should I ask? Or would that break the illusion of the video? Then again, I'm sure they edit this stuff, right?

"It is nice to meet you Maria. Now, put your hands behind your back," Thomas says, only he says it sort of different. Before he had emotion dripping out with each word making him seem nice and sweet. The way he says this is stern, like he's giving an order. It makes me think of a teacher I once had explaining step by step how to submit an essay.

"Oh, ok," I say, feeling intimidated by him. He still hasn't moved from the viewfinder, watching strictly on the camera. But I guess making the girl put her hands behind her is still normal. I mean, these videos are just about sex, right? Can't have sex without boobs. Well, I guess you can, but if you like looking at sexy things, you can't do that without boobs. And putting my hands behind me makes that easier.

I sit forward some and put my hands behind me. I then sit up straight again, knowing how it makes my breasts jut forward. Doing this does make my face blush as I don't normally push my boobs out, you know? Makes me feel a bit silly and exposed.

"Are you a virgin Maria?" Thomas asks and once he does, he finally moves from the camera. Now he sits back in his seat and looks at me. Only the way the sun comes in, he's somewhat in shadow while I'm brightly lit.

"No, no I'm not," I tell him honestly. I was expecting this question, even if it is still very personal. I'll just have to lie about most everything after this.

"Really? That's surprising," he says, sounding actually surprised. I look at him a tad confused by this as I don't see why that would be surprising. There's no law about people not having sex.

"Why is that surprising?" I ask, truly wanting to know for some reason. He gives me a smirk that sends a brief shiver up my spine. That smirk looks perfectly like what a gangster's smirk would be.

"You have a real, 'hit the books' vibe about you. The type that rather play DDT then go to a party. That type doesn't normally have sex till marriage. You must be a special freaky type then," he explains. I have to stop myself from correcting him that it is D&D, not DDT, as the latter is a wrestling move. What stops me from correcting him is how he says this. He's not being complimentary at all. In fact, it's like he doesn't like that sort of person, which I would call a nerd.

"Don't know about being a freak, but I have had sex. Many times," I answer, not sure why. It's almost like I feel I need to defend myself. He chuckles at this, yet I'm not sure why. I tell myself it's because he finds me cute, but I really don't know the reason.

"With women or just men?" He asks, his voice gaining a sort of creep factor. Again, this was expected so I'm not caught off guard. I just have to not react by not shuddering when asked.

"One girl. Mostly guys, but one girl," I lie, as I've never done anything with a girl. That's not true, I did kiss one once. It was on accident when we went to hug and the two of us didn't move our heads, so our faces sort of bumped together. And well, our lips touched for like 1/10 of a second.

He sits forward at this and gives me the biggest "I don't believe you" look. It's so intense that I wait for him to say something about it. Only he doesn't. I'm not sure if he's waiting for me to say something or what, but instead he just sits there and looks at me.

"Arch your back Maria. Let the camera get a better look at those tits of yours," he says in that stern manner. I was expecting him to say something about my answer, so I'm knocked off guard by this. And also knocked off guard by the way he says 'tits.' I know that is the crude term to call women's breasts, one that I never use, but the way he says it is as if boobs are nothing. Like they are just something to use, like an object instead of a beautiful part of a woman.

That intimidated feeling returns as I find myself arching my back. I do it little by little, forcing my chest to come out more and more. I only stop when my back starts to hurt, like it's too much of a strain. But now my chest really is pressed forward, even making my top strain.

"A college girl like you must be really smart. Smart girls tend to be good at sucking cock. You good at sucking cock Maria?" he asks while sitting back relaxed with me in pain. He then stretches his arms over the back of his seat as if he's comfortable as can be.

"I've never had any complaints," I tell him, my voice coming out much softer than I mean to. I'm really starting to be more than intimidated. Screw that, scared is more like this. This guy...he scares me. Don't know why either.

He laughs at my answer. It's not a chuckle or good laugh in any way. It's more like he's laughing at some mean thought he has. It reminds me of bullies back in middle school when you tell them you were going to tell on them when they start hitting you.

"I bet the goofs you hang with would be happy to stick their dick in any part of a girl," he chuckles. Hearing this, I'm not sure if that's a compliment or insult. He says it like a compliment, but it sure sounds like an insult. Like he's saying I suck at performing oral. That the guys I hook up with wouldn't know the difference from good or bad.

"Tell us, Maria who has been with a girl. How many fuck partners have you had?" He asks before I can say anything more. I try to keep a smile on my face, but it's getting hard. Fuck partners? Geez. I'm on video and know that the sexier I look, the faster this will go, but keeping a smile with him is hard.

"I think, 8," I lie once again. Truthfully, I've only been with one guy. We had sex a total of 3 times. It was with my ex-boyfriend. The one I am currently on break with. He was my boyfriend that said I looked like Addison the porn star.

"8? Wow. That's a lot," he says in a taunting manner, as if he knows I'm lying. My smile flickers at this again. Why would he even care? Why would he care if I lied? Why would he care if I fucked 1 or 100 people?

"Put your hands behind the seat Maria. I'm tired of looking at you push those tits out like that," he tells me, motioning to me. This hits me hard. He was the one that told me to sit like that. Now he's saying I don't look good? What an asshole.

"And spread your legs, wide," he adds. When he says this, he looks me right in the eye. There's such intensity there, like he daring me to say no. It scares me, bad. Scares me to the point that for a moment I consider if I could escape out of here via the window. For the first time, I consider this guy may be fucking crazy.

I lean back on the bench seat without saying a word. Then I lift both arms and place them behind the seat. Doing so once again pokes my breasts out, which he probably knew would happen. And then in a humiliating moment, I part my legs. I spread them about shoulder width, but know that isn't good enough. So I keep spreading until they are wide enough it hurts my hips.

"How does it feel like that?" He asks with a real smile on his face. My mind tells me to say how it feels sexy and good, that it makes me want to call a lover later. Only my heart says otherwise. That's not what he wants to hear.

"It feels humiliating," I answer honestly. He laughs at this, and it's a real laugh, like he liked the answer. It again intimidates me and makes me feel 5 inches tall.

"Good. Good. Because you look really stupid," he says and laughs again. I gulp at this as that was clearly an insult. A mean one too. It hits hard and my smile drops completely. I think I would prefer if he punched me rather than said that.

"I...I..." I start, wanting to say how I want this to end. That I'm calling in my uncomfortable clause. That I don't want to be with a crazy person who might kill me or something. That this isn't fun and is actually terrifying.

"Slide your hands down behind the seat. There's going to be something back there that feel like a loop. Stick your hands into it," he says, cutting me off so I can't say any more. He says this as a clear order. His voice is that stern tone too, such as he gave an order and will get mad if it is not completed. He even leans forward and glares at me to do it.

Intimidated and downright scared, my hands seem to move independently of my brain. For my brain tries to think about the situation. Why would there be a loop back there? What purpose would it serve? Yet the more I try to think, the more my brain sort of fogs over due to the way he glares.

Sure enough, my hands find the loop. My fingers move over it, and it feels like a ziptie, but much larger. And it feels like it is made of metal.

Still not able to think clearly, both of my hands go inside the loop. It's large enough that both slide in with room to spare. And as I keep them there, I try to think of why it's there. What's the point?

The ziptie constricts and closes, wrapping itself around my wrists. My eyes widen at this as it closes tight, very tight. Like cut off the flow of blood tight. Closes and even pulls my arms some.