(Another huge THANK YOU to @jakal69  for the images!!)

I closed the door to my little sanctuary from the crowded book store. I was alone and could finally catch my breath and process the “invasion” on my prior life. truthfully, I was proud of the work I used to do. It legitimately fulfilled me whenever I  heard from past fans. Art was art, after all. My old subject matter, although somewhat taboo, was actually very personal to me. I always took great pains to accurately provide clear and specific details in the self-bondage journal that I  published, I enjoyed experimenting with and perfecting methods of restraining myself.. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that some of my self-bondage exploits were things of legend in the online BDSM communities. But there is a time for all things and I had moved forward. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.  It was just a phase. It got you to HERE. To this book signing. To this well-funded publisher.

“Your work was simply extraordinary. You know that don’t you.”

I spun around, startled by the unexpected voice, to see the same tall fan with the expensive suit that recognized me as Glynco. I was filled with both alarmed and satisfaction.  Clearly conflicting emotions. But I hated feeling embarrassed about my art. Why shouldn’t I be proud of what I created?

“You’re very kind Sir,” I struggled to say, slowly reverting in my mind from the assertive novelist I’d become back into the submissive amateur I used to be.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that Miss.” The gentleman towered over me. He was reaching toward me with something in his hand. “I’ve come on an errand to fetch you Little One.  Someone thinks you are special. Very, very special.  Be a good girl now and come along.”

I found the words intoxicating and the cloth the man held pungent. Before I understood what was happening, I was being lowered onto a sofa. I couldn’t tell by whom. The gentleman was busying himself with a suitcase. I couldn’t make out the contents. I must remember to ask him about them when  I wake up. And just like that, I was back in my dreams of adventure and peril and futile attempts to escape.

———————————-

“You can’t keep me here! No. Don’t…mmmphhhhfff!!!”

It turned out that my benefactor, the well-funded publisher, wanted much more from me than the rights to a novel. After strapping the red rubber ball securely between my lips, he cupped my chin in one hand and held my face still.

“You know, I was just so disappointed when you stopped writing bondage stories Ms. Glynco.” He gently pulled my wavy golden strands away from my eyes so he could look into them unobstructed. “I was afraid you were gone. Extinct. Over hunted like the white rhino. But then my elation when you ‘came out’ as a mainstream writer!”

My eyes watered. I was standing on my toes, stretched out in a wide spread eagle position. The cotton ropes around my wrists and ankles were soft but thick. I tried to growl fiercely but more of a pleading whimper was all I could muster behind the mouth filling gag. The pitiful attempt elicited a hearty chuckle.

“I’d been looking for you of course. I searched for IP addresses or email stamps. Anything to find the elusive Glynco05!” He was strutting in a tight circle in front of Tina now. “But you were good. You kept everything clean. When you closed down that account, nothing of your former life remained that connected to this one. Uncanny really.”

He made a wide sweeping gesture with both arms. The man was relishing his own bravado.

“The ONLY clue I had to cling to was that old set of photos. The ones you published with your first story. The pretty ones of you, tied spread eagle, dressed just like you are now.”

He picked up a mirror from the end table and held it to show me. I gazed into the mirror and confirmed the black lingerie and heels were a near perfect match for the much cheaper outfit I modeled in those years ago. I looked away not wanting to provide any satisfaction. He tossed the mirror to the sofa without a care.

“But then you set up your blog, Tina. And one of my scouts found similarities in the style. In your syntax. But I wasn’t sure. Not until you posted your head shot. And even then, I wasn’t certain. I knew the eyes. Sparkling blue crystals.” He lunged toward me and stared deeply into my eyes.

“They ARE the windows into your submissive little soul, slutty Tina.” The first slightly vulgar word he’d uttered in my near week-long captivity. Was I wearing on him? Could I goad him into finally making an exploitable mistake?

“No. I needed something more. So, I drew a red ball over the smiling lips of the upcoming novelist, Tina Josephine, and then I knew you were my Glynco05.” The man’s face became a scowl.

“MYYYY Glynco05!!!!” His shoulders were shaking from his agitation.

“So, I brought you to me. All the way from Paris, Kentucky. I was just so happy to learn that you were in Paris. So close! When they told me, ‘Not France, it’s in the United States,’ I was not pleased. No, no. But the bad news came with good news. Tina. It’s a much nicer name to speak, Tina, than Glynco05. Tina. My Glynco05. Now my Tina.”

He was babbling and wandering around aimlessly. Almost unhinged. I strained in the bonds, futilely, but they held me with ease.

“But my Tina won’t write for me. I’ve tried so hard, haven’t I? Aren’t these the same lace topped black stockings? Isn’t the garter just like yours from your photos?”

“Mmmmmff. Pppmmsszzz. Mmmmpphh.” I knew showing despair would only encourage this maniac, but I felt physically shattered from a week-long domination. And his agitation was growing to concerning levels.

“Maybe I CAN’T get what I want from you. Maybe Glynco05 really is the white rhino. Maybe this ‘Tina’ is all that’s left. Maybe. Maybe I have to move on.”

He pivoted very slowly to the hallway in the back of the room. As he did, the people who work for him approached me from the corners of the room.

“Maybe I simply have to try with another precious artistic mind.” He stopped in his tracks on the threshold of the hallway. The other men were carrying ropes and straps; items I had become all too familiar with during this trial, and others...

Without turning, he shouted loudly and with malice. “But don’t worry T-EE-N-A! You can still serve a purpose. Not the elevated purpose I had intended for Glynco. But T-EE-N-A can at least be a physical representation of a beautiful extinct white rhino.”

He walked off down the dark hallway and the other men began their work.