Questing4Aldonza
Posts: 58
Joined: 7/14/2004
Status: offline
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Dangerous
Plenty of cars drive through the park so he scarcely notices the van as it slowly pulls up behind him. His jogging has slowed to a methodical plodding pace as he nears the end of his circuit.
The van pulls even with him. He tries to move off to the side, but the sound of the door sliding open with a bang distracts him. Long, powerful arms snake out of the darkened interior, seizing him by the collar and the waist of his sweat pants. Before he can even cry out, he’s jerked inside, slammed into a soft, spongy mattress set on the floor, almost as much by the sudden acceleration of the vehicle as by the man grappling with him.
His assailant clambers on top of him, digging a heavy knee into his spine while wrenching his arms behind his back. His impotent, angry yells of protest are muffled as his face is mashed into the musty old heap of stuffing. Judging by the smell, it had likely only just been liberated from a long service at the sort of motel with hourly rates.
He hisses though his teeth as rope is roughly wound around his wrists, cutting and burning his skin.
He actually has a fair idea of what is happening and why, and in spite of everything, he forces himself to go limp, though his heart hammers away within his chest and a fresh cold sweat has broken out across his overheated, trembling body.
Even when the man begins to cut away his clothes with a Bowie knife, he still maintains his composure, focusing on taking one deep, calming breath after another. But when the van hits a bump and the blade makes a shallow slice across his flesh, he loses it and begins gibbering pathetically. The man merely chortles smugly and gags him with the tattered remains of his own underwear, sealing them in with a strip of duct tape.
After what feels like an endless nightmare, the ride finally comes to an end. He hears the distant rumbling of a large door coming down and the van shakes as the driver gets out and pulls open the side door. The two men together grab him and haul him up out into a large gloomy space that he pegs at once as an abandoned warehouse. With a sneering grunt, they cast him down onto the cold hard concrete, where he lays, squirming and shivering.
A moment later, a familiar pair of shoes enter his blurry field of vision.
“Not laughing now, are you baby?” a cool, venomous voice asks. He twists around, trying to look up at her, meet her eyes. She actually helps him by squatting down, not quite to eye level. She reaches out her long, pale hand and tears away the tape, making him wince. He spits out his shorts, retching and panting unhappily.
“Please,” he croaks in-between gasps of air. “Please help me!”
She laughs coldly and gently caresses his hot, damp cheek.
“That’s not going to work this time,” she says, a twinge of sadness in her voice. “You can’t just say your lines and get me off quickly. Not this time.”
“Mistress,” he groans.”Please!”
“Mistress!” she sneers. “Yes, now it’s ‘Mistress’ again! Not ‘sweetie’ or ‘darlin’! You’ve grown complacent, my sweet. You’ve forgotten how dangerous I really am.”
He shuts his eyes and moans.
“But,” she adds, her voice shaking, “I am not a monster! Not... entirely. I will give you 'till the count of five to use your safeword. After that, it will not stop until they are done with you. One...”
His eyes snap open and he sucks in a deep breath. His mouth hangs open and his whole body quakes with the need to shout the word at the top of his lungs...
“Two...”
His throat is tight, blood roars through his temples. He stares deeply into her red-rimmed eyes.
“Three...”
He looks away, at the floor, cheeks flushing with shame. Like a tragic hero laid low by hubris, he knows he’s pushed her buttons too casually of late, too full of his own ability to play her dominant urges. And worse of all, so arrogant as to believe her love for him would spare him her worst.
“Four... Five.”
She lowers her head and sighs. Standing up, she nods to the men. They stride over and pick him up off the floor. A quick swipe of the knife and the bonds at his wrists fall away, though they are quickly replaced by leather cuffs attached to thick chains hanging from a pulley high overhead. A few turns of a winch and he is forced onto his toes, his swaying body taught and trembling.
A tear runs down her cheek and she turns and starts to walk away.
“Wait!” he screams, his voice reverberating throughout the vast, empty space. “Where are you going!”
She points to a camera set on a tripod. Several others form a wide circle around where he hangs.
“Don’t!” he cries. “Please, god, don’t just leave me here!”
She spins on her heels, body shaking. With quick, terse steps, she crosses the distance between them and looks up into his panicked face. Tears stream from her eyes as she reaches up and tenderly caresses his cheek again.
“I told you,” she says, her voice quavering. “Nothing will save you. Not even me.”
She spins around once more and the driver accompanies her across the floor. He calls after her, yelling her name, begging, screaming, pleading, even shouting out his safeword, to no avail.
The driver opens a door for her and she enters a small office, set up with several monitors and an old futon. The door is shut behind her, and then latched and padlocked.
As the driver returns, he stops to pick up a police-issue nightstick. The other man chuckles softly and begins unbuckling his belt.
“Oh god oh god ogodogod!” he cries out, twisting and writhing, arms jerking uselessly against his restraints, accompanied by the rattle of chains. The others close in about him.
*
At some point the mattress was removed from the van, and his body dumped unceremoniously upon it - adding a fresh coat of stains and smells to its moldering carcass: blood, semen, sweat and piss. He curls up in a tight, stinking ball, his throat too hoarse to sob anymore.
Her heels click on the concrete as she approaches him. Their work done, the men have already been paid off and left. Her day has been a roller coaster rise of lust and guilt. Her eyes are red and aching and her throat raw from weeping, but her thighs are sticky and her fingers reek.
She looks down upon the wretched pile of meat that is her slave and lover.
“Never forget I am dangerous,” she says. “Never laugh at my fantasies again.”
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Dangerous - 
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