...And the dream began:
I was hiding behind your door as you got home from... wherever. Probably work or shopping, but it may have been just to get takeout from the place down the block. Normally I'm not one to hide behind doors unless I have an unrequested surprise and a present. However this surprise wasn't entirely unrequested. As you walked up the front walk, I sent a text message from my phone to a friend a few blocks away.
The door opened and you stepped in, preoccupied with the dust on your shoes and the difficulty of removing them without dropping our dinner. I step forward placing a blindfold over your eyes, thinking it's just some little joke you go to remove it.
Instead of letting you lift your hands to your face however; I empty your hands of take-out. Pulling them behind you, fastening a new set of "soft" handcuffs to them. Not fuzzy, not plush, just soft.
As my friend pulls in the driveway I hit the garage door button and he pulls in. Parking his van alongside your car, and coming inside shutting the door behind him. As I hold you up by your shoulders, he binds your legs, and slides a set of earplugs and a ball-gag into place before enclosing your face in a plain black bag containing some chloroform. As we lift you to carry you into the garage you faint, waking a few miles away with a muffled "Whe mm aay?".
The swaying of the van as it corners through traffic soon lulls you back to sleep and the earplugs keep you from hearing anything, let alone a description of a destination or other landmark. In your mind you remember the conversation:
"Now a kidnapping scenario... that might be fun."
"It could be arranged."
"Yeah right, who's going to kidnap me? I mean come on."
"It could be arranged, that's all I'm saying, maybe pass a guy a few bucks for expenses, but it could be done."
You handed me a fifty as you left with the words "Whatever, next round or expenses... whatever."
As you remember this you begin to smile through the ball gag, then realize you've slowed and stopped, taking several turns. Not at highway speed, but slower, a residential area.
You feel rough hands slide you out of the van, you sense you're being carried through a door, a hallway, another door, down some stairs and finally laid face down on a soft flat surface.
The hood is removed, but the blindfold is slid back into place as the lights are turned on, your arms are then brought out to your side and attached to what you presume to be a bed. Then you feel the tape binding your legs together being cut, your remaining shoe removed and socks slid gently off.
Then you feel a pair of heavy manacles clamp around your legs, tying them apart. Then a cold piece of steel presses itself against your Achilles, and begins sliding up your leg, then the other. The scissors cutting a perfect v into your jeans before they finish the job and begin to slice your shirt in half, following your backbone. Then your arms are free from their cloth bindings and gentle, rough hands begin to knead the flesh of your legs.
Working their way up from your ankles, squeezing and removing the tensions of the trip, your mind can't help but think of those same fingers working other areas.
Your thighs relax, and you feel the same hands begin to work their way across your back, pausing to unhook your bra, and slice the straps so they fall uselessly around your neck. Then the hands begin by alternating between the deep massage your legs received and a light feather touch.
Tracing the curves and changes in your skin with a touch softer than the rough hands should be capable of. Across the shoulder blades, down the vertebrae, finally reaching your panty covered hips.
With your body relaxed, you feel your sliced clothing being removed from under you and a heavy, warm blanket being draped over your nearly naked form. Your eyes shut behind the blindfold and you fall asleep.
When you awaken you're surprised to find yourself unbound on the bed with your arms and legs curled up into themselves. You don't even notice the blindfold anymore. Leaving it on even though everything else is free.
"Hello"? Your voice echoes across a seemingly empty room. You cross your arms, crushing your breasts into you and holding them for comfort, like a child with a security blanket. You sit up, and reach to remove the blindfold when a silent figure behind you brings your arms back down to your side.
"Not yet" A voice you don't recognize whispers in your ear.
"C.C.C ould you turn the heat up a little please?"
"Of course." Is the reply as a heavy warm plate is set in your lap. The heater kicks on in a surprisingly familiar way, and you feel the warm air begin to circulate around you.
