Exactly a week had passed since I first met Gina. After losing a bet in a poker game, I had wandered into the homeless encampment on a dare to buy some weed. Gina, a resident of the tent city encampment, had identified me as an easy mark and lured me into her tent, intending to hold me hostage and make some fast cash. When she had tricked me into closing my eyes long enough to snap handcuffs on my wrists, we both had been surprised to discover we were inexplicably turned on by the perverse intimacy of our impromptu power exchange. The hour that had followed found me tied up and stripped naked on the floor of her tent, forced to orgasm in her hands, my mouth used profanely for her pleasure. Though she had drained my wallet as penance for my helpless sins before sending me on my bewildered way, she had told me she expected to see me again, as if our brief interaction had been merely a vanilla first date.
Thus I found myself, heart racing, nervously striding back into the tent city a week later, still wondering if I had imagined the whole thing. Would she still be there? Now knowing what might happen, would I find the same ecstasy I had experienced before? Was I in any less danger than I had been the week previous? I had to find out though. It was an itch that refused to go unscratched.
I didn't immediately recall where exactly I had first seen Gina in our previous encounter, and as I walked I began to worry that either I wouldn't be able to find her, or she would be gone, having moved on to the next neighborhood or city with no more thought for me than any other clueless middle-aged guy she might come across.
Then I saw her, as my long strides took me down the riverwalk, sitting at a picnic table watching me, eerily similar to how our last encounter had ended. How long had she been watching me? I altered my course to approach where she was sitting, and she gave me that same familiar wry smile. "I've been waiting for you a whole week, what the fuck is wrong with you?" She said, standing up.
I stopped a few feet from her and began to splutter out a reply, but she talked over me, making obvious the rhetorical nature of her question. "Well you can't just show up here willy-nilly expecting to pick up where we left off, like I'm just sitting here all day waiting for Kenny to come back." Her words tore through me, first eliciting despair over her apparent rejection my return, then glimmer of joy that she remembered my name, and finally relief with the realization that her tone belied at least some amount of irony.
"Go away," she said dismissively, and my heart sank. She paused, looking into my eyes with with that soul-stealing gaze she had used so effectively to disarm me just a week ago. Then she continued slowly and deliberately, "and come back in an hour with everything you brought last time."
Elation filled me as my brain, slowed by the whiplash of adrenaline and relief, parsed her words. I thought I knew exactly what she meant by "everything you brought last time" referring to the thick wad of cash I had stuffed in my wallet, but maybe she also meant my quirky capacity to be dominated, and be aroused by it. I nodded, turning back and walking out of the tent city to kill an hour.
As I strolled aimlessly around the city streets surrounding the encampment, my mind rolled through theories of what she might be doing. It was not unreasonable for her to take some time to prepare for whatever might happen next. As I remembered how she had been a little grimy and raw smelling in our previous encounter, it occurred to me that she might be going somewhere to shower. I pictured Gina's thin, muscular frame, tan skin and dirty-blond hair taking a cold shower, washing her strong arms and large round breasts. All of a sudden I was shoving my hands into my into my pockets to disguise a growing hard-on.
The minutes passed slowly, but I forced myself not to return a second earlier than I had been told. As I walked back into the encampment exactly an hour later, I felt slightly more at ease than I had earlier. Thought it was still winter, the air was warmer today than it had been the week previous, and the slanted afternoon sunlight gave an air of tranquility that seemed at odds with the languishing poverty and desolation of the tent city.
Once again I didn't see Gina until I was in right front of her. How did she keep doing that? She had changed her outfit, perhaps confirming my theory that she had used the time to shower, though it wasn't obvious. She was wearing the same type of athletic shirt she had worn the previous week, smooth white material with green accents, tight across her chest. Instead of the leggings she had been wearing the previous week, she had on pink athletic shorts that might have been for biking or running. With her tight pony tail and running shoes, her look was that of a woman on her way to the gym. Though warm for a winter afternoon, it was still too cold for the shorts and t-shirt she was wearing, and the smooth fabric of her tight shirt stretched across her chest was all perfect curves except for the two barely perceptible bumps in the middle each breast.
She smiled slightly and raised an amused eyebrow, saying "Got that bulge in your pants again Kenny, gotta be careful or someone's going to take advantage of you!" She said this more loudly than seemed appropriate, and I became aware that several other people were milling about, easily within earshot. She always seemed to know exactly what to say, and how to say it, to simultaneously thrill and terrify me. I knew she was teasing me, as she had the previous week, not about my semi-hard cock but about my wallet, visible in the front pocket of my pants.
"Well, step into my office," Gina said, just like she had as our encounter had taken its strange turn the previous week. She grabbed my arm with jovial familiarity, but just a little more force than was strictly needed, and guided me to the open entrance of her tent.
I bent my head down and stepped inside her tent, and just as I was about to stand as straight as the tent would allow, I felt her pulling my arm downward. The downward pressure on my arm grew as she maneuvered me inside the tent, and it didn't take me long to realize she wanted me to kneel. Once I was on my knees, she whispered, "Good boy, Kenny" and turned to zip the tent door closed. With that done, she turned and stepped back toward me, standing tantalizingly close as she looked down at me. Taking in my surroundings, I noticed the same tidy stack of belongings against one wall of the tent, but this time there was no sleeping bag across the floor, just the green nylon of the tent floor.
With the tent door zipped closed, the two of us inside, I already began to feel as if I were captive, trapped in Gina's world, so far from my own comfort zone. After a moment's pause, she put her hands on the back of my head and pulled my face into her. On my knees in front of her, my lips and nose came up against the place on her abdomen where the bottom of her shirt overlapped the top of her shorts, accentuating the height difference between us. She took a long breath, holding my face firmly against her, finally saying "You came back for more, you sick little fuck. How pathetic is that?" A gentle laugh took some of the sting out of the insult, as if she were admonishing a playful pet. Then she mused, "I've had a week to think about what fun I could have with you. You're in big trouble, Kenny." I felt the satiny fabric of her shirt against my face, and the toned muscles underneath, and my cock, already hard from the immediate return to intimacy, strained against my pants.
Gina stepped away, walking around behind me, and pushing hard on my back so that I fell forward on to my stomach. She immediately dropped on me, straddling my butt. She grabbed my hands from my sides and pulled them behind my back. As she reached to her side to get what must have been a piece of rope, my fingers inadvertently came in contact with the warm crotch of her shorts. She reacted to this by pushing her weight down on me, trapping my fingers temporarily under her. I felt the rough rope go around my wrists, and she began a process of looping the rope around one wrist, then the other with a well-practiced agility, finally tying the rope off in first one knot, then one more. Her hands still on my bound wrists, she leaned over me so that her mouth was just behind my ear and breathed, "Got you."
I felt the weight of her whole body against my back as her hands pushed roughly under me, groping around my crotch. She found my cock and rubbed it hard through my pants, taking advantage of the force of her body on top of mine. It felt intense and wonderful, so many sensations, from the weight of her laying on my back, her crotch against my bound hands, her hands fumbling around my cock. She wriggled her hands more under me, turning my hips slightly so that she had easier access to my front. I felt a hand go into my pocket, pulling my wallet out and tossing it aside. The same hand found the zipper on my pants, unzipping it swiftly, then pushing inside my pants to find my cock again through my underwear. After more groping and pulling, she grabbed my cock firmly through the fly in my underwear, pulling it all the way out so that I felt the cool air on it. Her other hand found the back of my head, grabbing my hair and twisting my head to the side, pushing my cheek into the tent floor. I grunted in surprise, and the hand that had been on the back of my head slid around to my mouth, covering it with a cupped hand. "Quiet," she whispered sharply into my ear, then she added, "I'll have to gag you again."
Our one-sided wrestling match paused, with Gina pulling her hand away from my mouth and rolling off to a kneeling position beside me, using her hands to roll me on to my side facing away from her. Resting her hands on my side from her kneeling position she looked down at me for a moment, finally saying "You're quite the pretty picture here Kenny, with your hands tied and your dick sticking out. But too much clothing and not enough rope."
Gina reached around in front of me and unbuttoned my pants, pulling them unceremoniously down my legs, and tossing them aside. My boxers quickly followed, then she went to work on my t-shirt, which she maneuvered up over my head, leaving it bunched around my tied wrists. She leaned back and grabbed a coil of rope, then reached and pulled my feet backward toward her, starting to wrap the rope around and in between my ankles. She was as quick with this as she had been with my hands, and in no time my ankles and wrists with both secured. Throwing aside my t-shirt, she tied one more length of rope between my ankle and wrist bindings, pulling hard before tying it off, bringing my feet as close to my hands as my long legs would allow.
Still laying on my side, my ankles joined to my wrists, I was effectively hogtied. Gina ran her hands up and down my body, lingering over the ropes as if to make sure they would stay in place. Reaching back into her pile of belongings again, she rooted around for a moment, ultimately holding a red bandana in front of my face. She rolled it into a long thin line, positioning the center of it over my lips.
"Open," Gina said simply, and I opened my mouth allowing the strip of cloth between my lips, biting down on it. She pushed and pulled on it until she had it wrapped around to the back of my head, where she pulled it tight, and tied it in a knot. "This won't keep you from making noise, but it will remind you that I control your mouth. While this gag is in, no talking from you. Understand?" I nodded quickly. "Maybe it's time for me to invest in a ball gag," she commented to herself, then back to me she said, "Would you like that, Kenny? A big red ball in that mouth?" She laughed softly, and one of her hands brushed over my face, pausing to push the bandana a little further in to my mouth.
"Well, what's next?" Gina said rhetorically, then stood and scanned around the floor of the tent for a moment, eventually grabbing my wallet. I watched as she opened it, plucked out the cash I had placed in there specifically for my visit today, then tossed it back toward the side of the tent. Stashing the money away in her pile of belongings, she produced another item from her pile, and turned to stand in front of me. It was a black piece of cloth that looked like one of those eye masks you might buy in an airport, though it was quite worn and dirty looking. She knelt in front of me, holding the eye mask in one hand, casually rubbing my cock with the other.
"I have a friend that wants to see you," Gina said with a mischievous smile. "but she doesn't want you to see her." She finished, holding up the eye mask. She leaned over me and put the eye mask across my eyes, pulling the elastic band around the back of my head. My mind raced with this new information. She was going to let a stranger in the tent, in the middle of our strange little tryst? Of course, Gina was nearly a stranger herself, though I felt like we had at least a foundation of trust based on mutual self-interest.
"You see," Gina continued, "my friend Diane didn't believe me when I told her I kidnapped a guy, tied him up, and had my way with him - and he actually liked it! Diane said I was making shit up, so I told her if you ever came back, I'd invite her over. And here you are!"
