A Road Less Traveled

The tears began to well in my eyes. "Please don't do this, Mistress. Please." My words came out almost as sobs.

I looked out the window at the night scene. An industrial section of the city. Well lit, but deserted. We passed a pair of barely dressed women. They waved at the limo we were in, and lewdly gestured at us, trying to see into the tinted windows.

If they had, they would see a driver. A muscular Black man who didn't say much, because he didn't HAVE to.

In the back seat, they would see my Mistress. Leather dress. Elegant, wise and cruel. She lit a cigarette, "Over here is good." And the Driver pulled over.

And next to my Mistress was me. But not a "me" that anyone would recognize. Short red skirt. Black fishnet stockings. Black tube top. Black skyscraper heels. Topped off with a curly blonde wig. She had not left off a heavy coat of cherry red lipstick and false eyelashes.

Mistress looked at me seated there beside her. Took a deep drag on her cigarette. "You look . . . like a whore." And she laughed as she smirked at me.

I was starting to tear. I knew what was coming next. She now looked at me sternly. "Last chance, luv. I want the pin to your online banking account, and the pin to this ATM card." She held up my ATM card for me to see. "You give that up, and we drive back to my place, we clean you up, and get you home by 11. You hold back, and we put you out onto this gutter here. We drive away. And you will stay there until you DO give it up."

She then handed me a cell phone. I looked at the face of it and the numbers on the face were epoxied over. Impossible to punch or dial any number. Only the "resend" button was active.

"That button will reach my cell phone. I will be on my laptop here wired into your bank site, sitting in front of your bank branch in about seven minutes."

Mistress then tucked the cellphone into my tubetop. "You call me with those bank codes, and we will be back here to pick you up immediately."

The Driver laughed now. "That bitch won't last 10 minutes out there."

"He thinks I'm bluffing." Mistress said to the Driver, and took another drag on her cigarette.

But I couldn't give her the account number. This was our family account. And the pin was the one my wife used as well. It would also give Mistress access to everything. I had been holding off for months now. Paying her weekly payments. But she wanted more. Wanted access to it all. I had to hold off as long as I could. I would see this thru.

Mistress was reading my mind, "It's no picnic out there, hon. You'll be alone there. Who knows what kind of trade will come by. Cops? You want that? You want your wife to bail you out? This is REAL risk we're talking about. This is no fucking game out there. Your life is at risk"

She then leaned toward me and straightened my wig. Touched her finger to the edge of my lips, erasing a stray bit of lipstick.

She nodded to the Driver, who got out, and walked around the car toward my side.

"Are you going to give me those pin codes now? Or are you going to learn just how serious I am about getting control over you. ALL of you."

I just breathed heavily. Would she REALLY do this?

Now, the Driver opened the door. The night air was warm, but the smell rank, in this deserted industrial area.

"Out of the car hon. Now."

The Driver held the door, and looked in threateningly. I swiveled in the seat, and got out into the deserted street. I almost fell over on the high spike heels.

"Did I say ten minutes?" The Driver said, and laughed.

Mistress tossed her cigarette at my feet. "Just don't lose that cell, hon. You ARE out here until you call me with those codes." Then, she handed a purse to the Driver, who handed it to me. "Just in case." She said.

And with that, the door shut, the Driver got in the car, and they left.

Now, I was alone.

Warehouses and storage facilities. Small factories. In the distance, a few hundred yards away, a solitary woman strolled up and down the sidewalk. That must mean there IS traffic here. Looking for women. Now I was scared.

I stood there in my short skirt. Tube top. Skyscraper heels. Large blonde wig. But obviously a man under them.

In the distance, a car whizzed past.

While that car had passed, I looked around for shelter in case another one came by. Only the indents in the buildings. The doorways. But was I "safer" there?

My heart began beating. I was alone. Every minute, I thought my Mistress would return. Hadn't she taught me enough of a lesson? Wouldn't she come back and get me in a few minutes.

How had I gotten myself into this? It started as a game. A little teasing. Some payments. A little more. Some information exchanged. She was so sweet when we met. It would all be a game. Until it STOPPED being a game.

Time moved on, and I moved into a doorway, out of the view of the street.

I was scared. This was taking forever. Police sirens in the distance, but nothing nearby. Then, a sound. A car slowly cruising by. I could hear the thumping bass. It got closer, and was about to pass right in front of me. The music got louder. The car appeared. A young black man passed by and looked at me. He paused a moment, looked me up and down, sneered, and drove on.

My heart was pumping a mile a minute. Mistress PLEASE come back.

Silence again. Then, the phone rang. I opened it. Heard laughter on the other end.

"You ready yet, bitch?" Mistress asked, in her mocking voice. "Call out the pin numbers, and we'll be there in 7 minutes. If not, you can stay all night. Did you look inside the purse yet?"

I fumbled to open the purse. Inside were a half-dozen condoms and a tube of KY jelly. I could hear her laughing on the other end of the phone. "In case you need to earn your way home."

I clicked the purse shut.

"So? What will it be?"

"Please Mistress. You wouldn't leave me out here all night. Please!" I was almost crying.

"I will hon. No money. No ID. No keys. A mile from the nearest subway. When will your wife be expecting you home, btw? It's past midnight. About 40 minutes have passed. I'm ready to leave you out there all fucking night. You WILL have a lot of explaining to do, won't you hon? . . . IF you make it till morning."

My heart was pounding. As I stood there, hunkering in a doorway in a deserted industrial area, I knew that any minute a police car could come by. A group of assholes looking to make trouble. Or a maniac.

"Waiting sweety." Mistress said.

My heart was beating.

"You need a little incentive? Want me to go into this bar across the street and TELL the horny guys exactly where you are? And that you are giving out free blowjobs? That you like it rough? Will THAT help you make a decision?"

I was screwed. This was damage control. I had to give in now. I knew she was serious. She WOULD do that.

"Alright," I sighed.

"ATM code first." She said. I heard the beep of her entering the bank's ATM center. The card slides into the machine.

I sniffled. "573253" I said into the phone. In resignation.

Not a word from Mistress. Just her hitting the numbers on the keypad. Then, the machine spitting out an endless stream of bills.

"Please come for me now, Mistress." I begged.

"Not yet. What is your pin for the online banking?" She said back.

I sighed. "The same one, Mistress. Please come get me."

"I just need to check this passcode. I'll find a wifi hotspot somewhere, check it, and be there in a few. Be patient. If you have to get out of any jams, remember the condoms and KY. Play safe!" I heard the Driver laugh, and Mistress clicked off.

I shuddered to think what I will find in my bank account by morning. Would I be able to even get onto my account? Will she have changed the passwords. What will happen then?

I wiped the tears from my eyes, and huddled in the doorway. It was much longer than 15 minutes. Where were they? Please make them come.

I heard a group of men approaching. They were loud and drunk. "Hey. Look over there!" And they started moving my way.

What have I let my life become?