(Happening right now.)
“Buzzzz…”
I’m still here, knowing how fucked I am and hating myself for the passive quitter I’ve turned out to be.
“Buuzzzz…..”
I flinch expecting something hard to penetrate me awake. Ever been “shaken awake” by someone gently tapping or pushing on your arm? Well, being “penetrated awake” is like that only it’s when your kidnapper slides a cold, hard phallic device or two inside you without warning while you’re unconscious. It’s actually only really bad for first four or five times it happens. You can get used to almost anything with repetition.
“Buuuuzzzzz.” I felt the bed shift.
“Yeah. Hello….”
I relaxed my clenched ass. The vibrating device was just my kidnapper’s phone. No doubt the conversation he was having was going to be fucking me harder than the plugs and dildos have over the last few days. I tried to pay attention to his side of the conversation, for what it was worth. Whatever was happening was happening. Knowing the details ahead of time won’t help, and will probably just make the wait that much worse. Still, that’s better than mentally reliving the fuckup of a lifetime that left me tied up and tethered between the headboard and the footboard of this cheap-ass motel in this off-the-map shits-ville town on the border with Mexico.
(Ah what the fuck. Let’s have a flashback.)
------------------------------
(A couple of days ago…)
The new girl had been dropping hints on me all day. Giving credit where it’s due, she IS a sexy little bitch. Lol. Not at all what I was expecting to show up with another new class at the police academy. But here she was. Mia something-or-other. Cute, smart, and aggressive. She was picking up the techniques I was teaching like she’d had training before. Probably military. She was training at 100% instead of the 60% we go at so as to avoid injury.
“Tone it down.” Mia blasted two more jabs into her partner’s pads.
“My fault, Sir.” Something about being a natural submissive always makes me flinch a little when a student calls me Sir. I hate being called Ma’am too, but I’ve gotten used to that. 99% of students called me Ma’am or just Instructor. That washes over me. Every once in a while I get an old-fashioned trainee through that just calls everyone of higher rank “Sir” regardless of gender.
“It’s OK.” Shit. I’m showing. What’s wrong with me. “Just. Just carry on cadet.” Fuck. She’s under my skin.
“Mia, Sir. Or cadet. Whatever you want.” There was nothing ‘old-fashioned’ about this pixie-cut raven haired military trained sex kitten in my class.
“Lou, finish up for me.” I barely lifted my eyes as I marched out of the mat room and headed straight toward the lockers. And that’s when I noticed the paper in my front pocket. I opened the folded piece of paper. There was an address written down. Actually, it was an intersection. An alley, to be specific. There was also some provocative language that made me instantly moist. It was signed by Mia. No wonder she made sure to drop her name.
The message of the note was more than an invitation to a rendezvous, not that that wouldn’t have been enough. It would have. But the unwritten message was that she was a Dominant, and she was staking her claim on my ass. The writing was clean. The ink didn’t smudge. The paper was a single straight fold in the very center. Yeah. Mia was a Domme alright. That makes her entitled to a certain degree of courtesy from me.
I was ABSOLUTELY meeting her where she directed me to be….
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(That evening…)
“MMmmmphhffff….” The uniquely heavy molded silicone muzzle of a gag almost completely silenced Tina’s yelps and groans. She shook her head and lowered her shoulders preparing to try to push herself off the wall and barrel through Mia, but with her hands still bound in thick leather cuffs, Tina couldn’t must enough leverage to mount any meaningful resistance.
Still in a police uniform, Mia wouldn’t have raised much, if any, suspicion from random witnesses as she forced Tina into the back of a stolen patrol car.
The element of surprise is huge in tactical situations like these. It can overwhelm a more skilled and a more seasoned opponent almost every single time.
Mia had a long way to go to make the hand-off to the “pick-up man.” She pulled out of the alley and pointed the car toward the highway. She’d ditch the police car and dump Tina in the trunk of something faster she’d stashed just past the Kentucky state line. Then it would be smooth sailing all the way to Texas and the payday Mia had been waiting for.
-----------------------------
(Right now, again.)
“I never had a chance. At every transition, from the police car to the trunk, from the cuffs to this arm binder…I was always under layers of control. Always restricted and weakened. Always surprised. It wasn’t fair, right from the very beginning.”
Whatever material this is, it’s woven to tight to scratch from inside the sleeves. There’s no stretch whatsoever. It’s buckles and zippered and tied perfectly around my shape. It moved everywhere I move. My arms are completely fixed against my body under my exposed tits. The design element of leaving my boobs uncovered not only makes the whole fit tighter without having to compress the soft tissue of mammary glands but also serves to promote a sense of submissive compliance in me that is strangely effective. I’m more naked than I am in a bikini and yet still helplessly restrained. The connected hood piece of the apparatus is suffocatingly effective. Somehow it’s thinly padded lining also adheres to my face and locks my jaw in place around the inflated rubber stuffing pinning my tongue down inside my mouth. The compression around my shoulders and neck further limit my range of motion. I wore myself out and into an embarrassing fit of tear during the hours this handler spent taunting me and toying with me and doing what he called “prepping me for ownership.”
Never given a chance to cry out. Never given a chance to fight back. Always under control. Always being dominated and humiliated and overpowered.
The phone thudded as he casually replaced it on the nightstand.
“That was your new owner. They are excited to take delivery of you. I think they have big plans. We’ll get you cleaned up and packed in a minute. But they insist I check just one more thing.”
I can only accept yet another penetration and wait for us to reach the end of the trip.
-------------------------
Mia was naked and getting interrogated. Double crosses were part of the business. When things go sideways, you have to cover ever base.
The “pick-up man” was getting worked over too. Only he was getting worked over with a collapsable steel baton and a taser. Cockiness will cost you just as much as carelessness.
The bald, fat man in the suit seethed as he listened to the twang of the southern female voice on the other end of the phone…
“No, she WAS a right formidable Dominant bitch. No doubt about that. You sent a good one. She was the right mix of flirty and filly to get me off balance from jump. But she messed up with the note. It was written before she ever laid eyes on me. And that was suspicious considering we don’t allow pens or pencils or ANYTHING sharper than your soft little pecker in the training room. Safety first, y’all, right?” Tina giggled.
“Mia checked in. How did….” Tina interrupted.
“Now don’t go having a coronary. Mia didn’t turn on ya. Not that I mind you water-boarding her or whatever it is you feel like you need to do to make yourself feel better. She’s a right good Domme, but I’m a better lock pick. I got out of the cuffs before she pulled out of the alley. Once we got to the getaway car, I sprung out and kicked the shit out of her. Element of surprise. Plus…I’m fucking GOOD. Sorry. Not sorry.
Anyway, I tossed her in the back. Once I got her to the pick-up, I got her laced up in that gorgeous bondage shit you sent with her. It was mighty thoughtful of you to cover up her face and stuff her mouth like that. Made my little trick SO much easier to pull off. Ya know?” There was a long pause as the fat, bald man processed.
“I’ll get you next time, Tina. You know that don’t you? It doesn’t matter where you go to ….” Tina’s laughter cut him off.
“Stop. Just stop. I don’t know who you even are, and I don’t even care. Y’all keep making the same dang mistakes. You just keep on assuming you’ve got the aces in your hand. But you don’t. Because you don’t value surprise like I do. Now do me a little favor and look down at that pretty yellow tie you’re wearing, cause I have one more surprise for ya sweetheart.”
The fat bald man in the suit dropped the phone when he saw the red laser light circle hovering on his tie just left of his heart.
THE END
(Featuring twirls of art from @Thierrydway @Capoeira33 and @nocturnal-tendencies