Mystery Date

TSH opened her eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness around her. She attempted to wipe the sleepiness and congealed eye-glitter out of the corners, but realized something was preventing her from moving her arms at all. Twisting around to review her situation, she wiped out completely, then took a breath to assess the situation. Her back ached (in both a good and bad way, considering she was in her thirties now, aches and pains were part of the game), and she could see tiny pin pricks of light coming out above her. She also saw windows, but they were tinted out. Wait? Tinted windows? TSH shot up straight- once again forgetting herself and crashing back down again, almost dislocating her shoulder in the process. "OK, seriously, enough with the body torture," she hissed to herself, then despite of things, cracked up. She'd never get enough of that.

At that moment, she noticed a rectangular metal object attached to her thin bare arm. "Oh my god! Have I been implanted?" she screeched to herself. Then she saw the note in a familiar scroll, a mini-post it also taped to her arm, that read, "Press send, spazz." Ohhh, really. I know that "spazz," she thought to herself.

But how was she expected to press anything on the phone?

She tried to lift her upper arm to reach her other hand, but that would be impossible. Her hands were leather-belted to the grating in the van. A line of sweat dripped down into her tank top and down into the lining of her jeans. Her unzipped jeans. "What the hell happened in here?" she said.

She reached her forehead to her upper arm to wipe off the sweat, and banged against the rectangular object. She realized it was a phone, and she realized she could just reach the "send" button with her tongue. "Gross! I know where this phone has been!" She re-evaluated her situation and sighed. She really wasn't scared. She knew he'd take care of her. And the wonderfully raw, swollen feeling that her jeans were holding close to her knew that if she was good, he might take care of her again. So, trying to touch the phone button with as little tongue possible, she pushed the button, then shifted so her ear could rest on the little box.

"TSH... you're awake."

"Where am I?"

"Isn't it obvious?" TSB sounded muffled. He was either halfway through a six-pack or desperately trying to drive, text, jerk off, and talk to her at the same time.

"Not... exactly. Maybe you could share a little bit of how I got here?"

"Why?"

TSH growled into the phone and knocked against the grating she was strung up to. "I'm telling you this instant, TSH, if you even knick that phone or lose any of my contacts, you will not be able to sit down for an entire fortnight."

"Did you just say fortnight?" TSH snorted before she could help it. "Is that our word of the day?"

"I thought it made me sound hot. More James Bondish."

"Um, right. Sure, it totally did. Come and get me so I can swallow you whole and show you just how hot it was."

CLICK. He'd hung up on her. "FUCK!" She hissed to herself. She looked down and around her, as her eyes adjusted to the light. She was clothed in a light tank top, no bra. Her unzipped "low-rider" jeans were indeed riding low, if she jerked around too much, they might slide down her ass completely and that would just be plain embarrassing if this van belonged to anyone but TSB. OK, so, no underwear, and her feet were bare. "Ugh, who knows WHAT I'm stepping in."

The phone rang again, and she tongued the button, immediately piping in with "I'm sorry."

"Good. So just listen up."

"Yessir."

"I'm coming to get you. Well, maybe not me, but..."

She shrieked. "TSB! Are you fucking kidding me? I'm pretty much naked here, and my hands are tied up over my head. I can't fight back if anyone..."

He cut her off. "As I was saying, before you interrupted me -- big shocker there -- I'm coming to get you. Whether it's me or not is NOT your concern. You're not to fight, move, attack, or breathe a word to whoever it is -- or they are -- that get in that van. If you do, I'll know it. And you will be severely punished."

Her breath caught in her throat. "But I'll see it's you, so I'll be OK..."

"Can you feel that thing on your head?" He asked her. She bumped her head back slightly against the grate, feeling her puff of hair and something slightly stretchy and soft.

"Yeah."

"Put it on. Lift up that sweet little ass of yours so your head is next to your hands, and yank it down with your fingers. It should fit like one of those headbands you always wear. If you know what's good for you, you won't cheat, because I'll know, and then I'll be unhappy. And I know you're my good girl, right?"

"R... right."

"Did you do it?"

She struggled up and grasped the blindfold band with one hand, and maneuvered it over her eyes. "I'm a fucking idiot," she whispered to herself. By accident she banged her head back against the grate and hissed a string of obscenities. Then she slid back to her position on the floor and breathed back into the phone. "OK."

"Now, stand up again and grab the top of your shirt with one hand. Keep bunching it up until your breasts are showing."

"Um.... OK."

"Are you back on the floor of the van? Good. Now scrunch yourself on the floor until your jeans are piled down to your knees."

"TSB! No, I can't. I can't just sit here like this. I can't see anything, I don't know if you're coming, I..."

"Your hysteria really does nothing for me. I thought you trusted me."

"I..." She made some scratchy noises and then sighed. "OK, I did it. I'm... yours. All ready."

"Good. See you later."

With another sharp click, he was gone. She considered tonguing the "recall" button, but figured he wouldn't answer even if she could manage that feat. The brisk air of the van settled on her skin. Her arms, over her head, ached, but she loved the feeling. It wasn't possible to get comfortable, and that was OK too. Then her senses caught fire. Someone (ones?) was outside the van.

The side panel of the van slid open. "Hello?" She asked blindly as the night air whisked away the sweat that had collected on her body. "TSB? Is that you?"

Something slapped the side of her face. It was leathery and pointy and... despite the sting, her face broke out in a smile. "Vampire gloves," she thought quietly to herself. "I bought those for him last week." The gloved hands slapped her face again and she managed to bring her smile under control.

She struggled to press herself against her captor, to try to recognize his body against her own. His scent, his fabric softener, his roughened skin, anything. She couldn't get a good reading. Then her body went completely rigid as the points on the gloves pressed into the sides of her torso and raked up and down her showing skin. They pressed deeply into the tips of her breasts, leaving what she could imagine -- but not see -- as long, scarlet welts and scratches. He grabbed her around the waist lifting her up and shoved her legs apart. One gloved hand held her under her butt. She heard the leather peel off and drop and in an instant, he shoved three of his fingers roughly inside of her. She cried out but he covered her mouth with his own and she screamed into him as he pushed back and forth into her. She struggled to wrap her legs around him and bring him closer to her, so she could grind against him, but he slammed her back to the van, twisted her over onto her stomach (keeping care not to twist her wrists in the leather sling)and battered her behind. He re-fit the other glove over his other hand and spanked her behind and thighs until he thought she might pass out entirely. Then he simply backed out of the van sliding door and slammed it closed.

Even though she knew it was TSB, her senses were completely on overload. She couldn't stop the feeling of having his fingers inside of her from taking over every synapse in her body. She felt that at that moment, even if she could break free, she wouldn't. She'd just sit there, twisted, waiting, until he graced her with the chance to open her pussy up to him again. Or if she COULD break free, she'd burst through the van's grated panel and climb onto of him, place his hand in his lap with his fingers sticking up, and slam herself down on top of them.

"It's TSB, it's TSB," she kept muttering to herself. "It has to be."

The van rolled to a stop. TSH tried to collect herself. She heard the panel door slide open again and rolled herself over so she was face up. She heard him (?) climb in. He was still wearing the vampire gloves, and roughly shoved her tank top back up to her collarbone. He gripped her jeans waist with both hands and yanked it off her body completely. He still hadn't said anything yet, but she could tell it was him. Right?

"TSB..." She whispered. Immediately, he smacked her head back against the grate. "I'm sorry," she managed to mumble out. She could feel his sinewy legs hovering around her and heard the rustling of clothes being removed, and the crinkle of a familiar package.

"Not. One. Single. Word." He hissed into her ear (she knew it was him!) and lifted up her body so she wouldn't have to support both of them on her restrained arms. Then, without a warm-up or slow progression, he shoved himself inside of her. She cried out as he tore through her, biting softly on his shoulder. He racked her back and forth, slamming her into the van's grate. She wondered if her backside would have little hole-shaped impressions on them and thought how hot that would be.

He growled as he slammed into her, pinching her breasts and separating the cheeks of her behind as he pounded. She thought she might pass out; her head was feeling slightly woozy both from all the knocking and the absolutely amazing feeling he was giving her.

The next thing she knew, she had passed out. Forgetting herself, she shouted "Not again, motherfucker!" and bolted upright. This time, though, her hands and arms were free. The effort of being able to sit straight up made her recognize just how sore they were. She still couldn't see though. Feeling around, she was on a soft spot- this was her bed. "Damn, how long was I out for?" she thought to herself as she removed the blindfold and tossed it to the floor.

Next to her, TSB was sleeping with an evil grin on his face. She wanted to pounce on him, but she knew better than to wake him up after he'd finally fallen asleep. With her newly freed hands, she touched herself between her legs. The area was still throbbing, hot, and swollen. She could still feel his thickness inside of her too.

Something jingled, and she panicked, looking around to stop it before it woke him up. (As much as she loved getting into trouble with him, it was way, way worse when he was tired.) Finally she saw the source of her jingling, the thick length of chain that had attached her to the bed. It ran in a four-foot length up to her neck, which was locked into a collar. The sound of the jingling eased her mind, and instantly put her into the mood to fall into the fluffy pillows and join TSB in sleep. She settled in, curling up into a little ball. When she next woke up, he was wrapped around her with one of his big hands tightened around her neck, serving as an extra collar as she slept.