The Mercedez came to a slow and steady halt and she managed to breathe out ever so slightly, relief starting to flood through her veins at the sight of the metal yellow Armco barrier blocking the track ahead. She sat rigid to the seat, her arms bound behind her tightly, behind the seat so that she could wrap her fingers around the netting meant for rear passengers to place their belongings in. Her ankles were chained to the lever underneath the seat. No matter how hard she tried, the lever wouldn't move so she was unable to push the chair back and give her wrists enough movement to undo the rope that was cutting into her delicate wrists. Bleeding was not an option.
He looked at her briefly, his eyes full of menace, and she felt the sting in her cheek once again -- she vividly remembered how hard he had slapped her for daring to open her mouth, to speak. She said nothing as he opened the driver's door and walked purposely towards the end of the barrier. She watched intently as he took a key from his pocket and tried to lift the barrier, failing repeatedly. He didn't take his eyes off her, they bored into her soul and she felt every second of it as though he was reading every thought that had ever crossed her mind. She held her breath once more and he looked away briefly, his glance returning as he smiled and swung the barrier open. Her eyes widened and she desperately wanted to scream, but the sting in her cheek reminded her that silence was her only chance of getting through this.
He pulled the car forward and onto the track -- it was rough and uneven and made the car list to the right, towards him, her captor. He got out once more and locked the barrier behind him before jumping back into the driver's seat, smiling.
'You didn't expect that did you?'
She didn't know whether to answer, whether he would slap her again if she did. She shook her head and tried to regulate her breathing -- shallow and fast, she tried to disguise the fact that she was aware of her fate, that she knew what he was going to do next. Her wrists twisted involuntarily and she felt the friction burning into her from the ropes he had tied her with. He reached out and turned the volume up on the radio, she recognised the song - Elvis Presley, Caught in a Trap -- it was almost as though he had chosen it on purpose.
He pulled the car up half a mile or more along the track. It was wider here, the overgrown brush no longer threatening to scratch into the black paintwork on the freshly cleaned doors, etching a tale of debauchery and madness. He turned the engine off, faced her briefly, his eyes burning with desire and suddenly he grabbed her by the hair, pulling it hard, making her head jerk towards the passenger door and causing her to cry out so that he heard. He didn't look away and neither did she as he reached down with his free hand and unchained her ankles from the lever below. She wanted to kick out at him, to fight him off, but now was not the time -- she had to play it cool, she had to get out alive.
'Spread your legs', he demanded.
She did as she was told, nervously separating her thighs to the same width as the seat she sat on, hoping it would be enough. It wasn't. Of course it wasn't.
He gripped her right thigh hard and lifted it over the gearshift, moving his hand down to her ankle and pushing it down over his lap, the tip of her boot touching the driver's door card. Her trousers were tightly pushing against her inner thighs and pussy and as he released her ankle, she dared not move it and close her legs. With his left hand still pulling on her hair, he moved his right hand between her legs and rubbed her from her lips to her clit, smiling at her and not once releasing his gaze.
He kept rubbing her, her trousers the only barrier between them, and she felt the burn in her wrists return as her arms tried desperately to break free from the rope that bound them so tight. It was futile, he'd tied them too tight, she knew that he had done this before. Thoughts flickered through her head, it was if she was dying and the big things in her life were coming to the fore. Only she wasn't thinking of the big things, she was thinking about her freedom and what she would do if she could only untie the rope. It wasn't going to happen, not today and as he moved his hand to her waistband and tore her trousers clean apart along the seam she knew she had no chance.
Her trousers fell into a heap of uneasy insignificance in the foot well of the passenger side, her clean white knickers hugging her thighs and crotch momentarily before he swept them aside and pushed his finger deep inside her. Her hips pushed towards him in a bid to push him out but he saw something different -- to him this was her wanting more, so he slipped a second finger inside her and watched her as her eyes glazed over and the burn from her wrists made her cry out. He finger fucked her for a minute or two, eyes wild with desire, his grin growing wider as time moved on second by second.
And then, just like that he stopped. He let go of her hair and after licking his dirty fingers clean, he reached out and took a swig from the bottle of water on the dashboard. She took the opportunity to breathe. She made plans for her next move and she hoped beyond hope that he would untie her arms.
'Don't look at me' he growled.
She immediately looked away, out to the fields on her left, out of his line of vision. She hadn't even realised she'd been looking at him really, but she recognised the brand on the bottle, she knew where he'd purchased it. She knew that the details were significant and she knew she had to remember. She looked through the gap in the hedge, towards a haze of civilisation, houses. She imagined the people in those houses, going about their daily lives, oblivious to the fact that she was bound in his car and a slave to his desires.