Dressing Room Adventure

With a silent sigh, I look at the cute top that hangs on the store hanger. Normally I would be overjoyed at having found something so cute, but today? Dunno. Just not feeling it.

Today is one of my few days off and one of my rare days to go clothes shopping. Days like today I should be filled with joy and excitement as I search for new clothes to make me look great, only I don't. Don't get me wrong, I love clothes shopping but with the world being as it's been, I haven't been out in forever for obvious reasons. So you would think for this reason alone, I should be overjoyed, but I'm not. To be honest, I just feel, well, blah. Everything just feels...blah.

This mood I'm in has been a long time coming. Maybe it's from the world being shut down, or maybe from something about my life being in a rut. I'm only 25 but I feel 125. I feel old and boring instead of young and excited. I mean, I should feel like I can take the world on, but most days I'm more interested in having ice cream and going to bed right when I wake up.

I know I shouldn't complain or feel this way as I have a decent life. I'm a nurse at a doctor's office, well a podiatrist's office, so I have a good job. I have a nice house that is in good shape, smack in the middle of a neighborhood that doesn't really have any crime. So overall I have no reason to complain. I know I'm being a bit of a brat feeling like this, but I can't help it.

Sure, I don't have a boyfriend at the moment, but is that really a bad thing? The last one I had was even more boring than I am. His idea of an exciting night was to sit in the same room and read. I love loving, don't get me wrong, but not every single night. Where's the passion? Where the kinky sex? Where the surprises? I'm not sure if he was better or worse than the one before, who spent nearly every night at the bar to hang with friends.

In terms of boyfriends, I know the real issue is myself. I'm not sure what I want, if I want anything at all. I can speak of how I want someone that is sweet and kind as well as good looking and exciting, but that's wishful thinking as I do believe there is a soulmate for everyone and that person is probably not what you expect.

Sighing again, I grab the top by the hanger and add it to the pile of shirts I want to try on. Might as well go try them on as I'm not having much luck finding anything that looks interesting today. So I look about until I see the large sign that reads "Dressing Room."

As pathetic as it sounds, I want something exciting and new to happen. I mean, I guess that is pathetic as I often daydream of a spy or hero-type bursting into whatever room I am in and fighting off bad guys. And it's up to me to help, to which I risk life and limb to make sure the good guys win and the world is safe. The closest I've gotten to that is the time I told the guy in line that he had dropped something out of his pocket.

Other times I daydream that I'm in a horror movie, and some spooky crazed man starts to stalk me, to which I'll have to fight back. Or that a ghost or demon is unleashed and it's up to me to do something epic like destroy their remains or something. In all I feel such fear but such intense excitement as well.

Like I've said, I know I'm being silly and a brat because I should be happy with my life as it could be worse. I mean, I could be homeless or have unstoppable and unwanted excitement such as by living in a civil war zone or something. I'm just being spoiled.

I reach the dressing room area and as is normal, there's no one at the counter. As I don't remember the last time I saw someone work the counter, I just walk back into the dressing rooms. As I walk into the small hallway, I see that maybe half of the 10 dressing rooms have people inside as indicated by the closed doors.

I walk to the last dressing room on the right side of the aisle. I like the last room as it means there's only the chance for one person being next to you. To me, there's nothing more embrassing than someone hearing you try to wear something that's a bit too small for you, but you know will fit.

I push the long saloon type door open and go inside. Like most dressing rooms, there's hangers about, and a couple of shirts that someone just left in here sitting on the bench. But overall it looks clean.

I hang the clothes I want to try on by the hangers on the hook opposite of the door. Next I turn around to make sure the door has closed.

Suddenly, there's a hand over my mouth. A foreign hand that certainty wasn't there before. A hand that smells of cologne that I've never smelled before. Another hand grabs the back of my head and the two combined to hold my head in an extremely strong grip.

My eyes widen as the realization of what is happening dawns when I see the man in front of me. He entered my dressing room as quiet as can be and now holds my head in his powerful grip. He's made sure that I wouldn't be able to scream or say anything as he fiercely holds me in what is clearly a warning.

"SSShhhhhhhhh," the strange man warns softly as his face is but inches from mine. With it so close, all I can see are the dark brown eyes staring into mine. Those eyes are filled with such fire and intensity. They are hungry. No, they are beyond hungry to the point they are ravenous.

"Be good or else I get mad, understand?" The man says in a whisper, but the effect it has on me is as if he screamed it. As cold fear pumps into me, I find myself trying to nod to show that yes, I'm not going to say a single sound, not when he could easily snap my neck. I'll be a good girl.

My heart pounds hard in my chest and my body turns into something like a tree as I don't seem to be able to move. I can't believe I'm reacting like this but it's just so unexpected. He just appeared without warning or anything. I can't believe what's happening.

As the seconds pass as I'm held, I'm able to see more of this man. He's tall, much taller than my 5'2" frame and has to be over 200 pounds, but not of fat. Not that this guy is made of muscles, but he seems thick and strong, like someone that works as a laborer or something. His black hair and facial hair seem to match the dark and sinister vibe he produces too.

The man who looks to be in his thirties stares at me as if reading my mind to see what I'm going to do. Then, slowly and tentatively he pulls back the hand that's over my mouth. I can tell he's going slow so he can do something if I scream but to be completely honest, my throat feels so dry that I don't think I could even whisper at the moment.

He removes his hand completely but then, like a cat, he grabs something to the side. On the seat in the corner of the room is a small pile of left-over clothes. From it he grabs something that looks like a scarf or maybe a belt that looks to be made of canvas.

He brings it up with both of his hands to stretch it out, showing me the long red and pink piece of clothing. For only a brief moment I think he's going to strangle me but instead he puts it against my mouth. He pulls his hands behind my head to reveal that he's gagging me with it. Sure enough, the thick clothing goes into my mouth fully to which he ties the two ends behind my head, tight, gagging me.

"Better," the man says and then smirks. It's an odd smirk too. It's not 100% evil like a mad scientist or something, but it isn't good. It looks more like the smirk of a bully when he's thought up some new torment for his favorite victim.

The man then grabs hold of my purse which sits on the small bench. When I see this, everything seems to click in place. That's what he was after this entire time...my purse. He's robbing me. That's all this is, a robbery. So now he'll get whatever he wants from my purse, then flee and this nightmare can finally be over.

Only he doesn't open my purse or even pick it up. Instead he unclips the purse straps. This particular purse has detachable straps that connect via clips as it came with 3 different strap lengths. The different straps are meant so you can pick the best for your body type, but I liked it as I could change them out depending on what I was doing or where I was going. If I was going to a crowded location, I could choose a shorter strap and keep my purse closer to my body. If not, I would choose longer for more comfort.

Holding the disconnected purse strap in his hand, the man says nothing but grabs my right hand. To this, I do let out a small yelp and pull back but he holds me firm. His hand feels very rough and course on mine as if he's never heard of lotion before. Sort of like human skin sandpaper.

I look down to see and feel him starting to wrap the strap around my right wrist in a loop. Then he grabs my left hand and brings it up to my right hand. Now he wraps the strap around my left wrist.

I become oddly quiet as I watch and feel him wrap the straps around my wrists as he means to tie me up. He doesn't just wrap it around my wrists but goes between them and across at angles, letting me know he knows how to tie professional knots. And sure enough, within maybe 20 seconds, my wrists are tied together in an extremely tight knot.

In disbelief I look at my wrists with the knowledge that it's my purse strap. He tied me with my own purse strap. I'm not sure why it feels so weird to hear, but it is. Not just the fact that I'm now tied and helpless, but he used my own purse to do it. It feels oddly humiliating. Not to mention the fact that I just stood there and let him do it. I didn't move my hands about or run out.

That's when I notice something that I can't believe. I'm...excited. My heart is pumping, my skin is on fire and overall, I'm excited. This is just so new, so intense, so...different. I'm very much scared for my life but for the first time in forever, I feel alive.

As I feel this, I'm so very confused. Am I pathetic for feeling alive during this? Or should I embrace this? Does it mean something is wrong with me, or is this considered normal? God, I've never felt so confused before in my life.

The man then grabs the straps tying my wrists together and starts to lift them upward. As he does this, I can see him look at something above my head, so I look upward to see what this could be. I then see what he means to do. There's the hooks overhead that you can hang the clothes you bring in.

I don't say anything but I do begin to shake my head NO to tell him not to do this. That there has to be some other way for him to get what he wants. But he ignores me completely.

My arms are completely overhead now, but yet he keeps lifting. It's now to the point I've moved somewhat to my tiptoes as he pulls my arms up even more. And all the while, I keep shaking my head NO in the vain hope he'll stop.

I feel him hook the straps tying my wrists together onto the hook. It forces my arms upward to the point they stretch and I'm made to stay on my tiptoes.

Testing this, I slowly start to put more weight on the hooks to see how weak it is. Bit by bit, I put more of my weight by lifting up off my feet. To my horror, I find that the damn thing can hold all of my weight as I'm able to lift my feet completely off the ground and hang by the bounds.

I'm stuck. Truly stuck. Helpless. Sure, I could start making a lot of noise to be heard, or maybe start to kick at him, but goodness, he could mess me up. At the very least he could slap or punch me but at the worse he might have a knife or something. And there's no way for me to do anything that he wouldn't see or notice.

"Good girl," the man croons in a whisper as he looks me up and down. The evil smirk is now gone but a very proud smirk replaces it as he looks up and down slowly. And he does that a few times, very slowly. Looks all the way to my shoes, then slowly looks upward till he sees the top of my head. It makes me think that he's trying to assess my worth, like a hunter to see how much they could get.

"Now, think twice before making noise, because if we have company, it will not end well for you at all," he warns in a whisper. I'm a bit amazed by how he's able to stand across this dressing room and whisper but in a way that I can hear it. Granted these rooms aren't very big, but I've whispered into people's ears and they still didn't hear.

The cold fear still makes my heart pound as I think about what he's going to do. If he was to rob me, would he get what he wanted and go? At the very least I would think there would be some sort of urgency. But he seems to be cool and calm like he has all day to do whatever he plans to do.

It gets very creepy and scary now as he keeps looking at me. He doesn't say anything, just looks with that proud smile. That look does truly terrify me. I've never been this scared before as my brain seems to come to terms that this really is happening. That this isn't a daydream or anything. What I'm feeling is real, even if it makes me feel more alive than I've felt in a long time.

I feel my brow furrow when I see that he's not just standing there staring at me. He's taking pictures! He has his cell out and positioned at his waist where I see him tapping his thumb against it every few seconds.

He spots that I've seen the cell, so he brings it up while his smile gets wider. He openly takes pictures of me like this as he no longer feels he needs to keep it a secret. From the look of it, he zooms in, focuses, reframes and more. But why was he doing it in secret? Did he want to see a shot of me without me knowing I was being filmed? Why is he taking pictures in the first place?

I notice he takes a lot of pictures of my face. That he wants a memory of seeing me like this, helpless and gagged. Again, something about this makes me tingle as I feel so very alive. I feel like everything is cranked up, to which I love even the humiliating feeling of being photographed like this.

After what feels like an hour but is really just a minute or two, he puts his cell away. Not saying anything and being as quiet as he can, he steps towards me. When he does, I damn near freak out as I'm so scared and worked up.

A small yelp comes out as he suddenly leans over to grab my right shoe. He slowly lifts my shoe, making me lift my foot. He extends it out and in a super weird moment, I think he might try to give me a foot massage or something.

He unties my shoe, then pulls it off. After he pulls my sock off so I am barefoot. I feel a sense of disgust as I have a fear he is one of those sickos that gets off on licking stranger's feet against their will. You hear about them on the news every so often. How they cook up grand plans to get to people's feet to lick and do who-knows-what.

That's why I'm surprised when he puts my bare foot back on the ground. He then calmly puts my shoe and sock under the bench. Then he repeats this, but with my left foot, so I become completely barefoot.

My surprise lingers as he doesn't look twice at my feet. Instead he looks me in the face, then looks down at my midsection. As odd as it may sound, I'm at least a little relieved that he didn't do anything gross, you know, to my feet.

His hands move forward towards me again and I tense up. Dear me...what is he going to do now? Is he going to grab me? Hurt me? Worse?

He grabs the bottom of my top and immediately lifts it upward. I gasp at this as I feel my stomach come out into view. The feeling of it stuns me just a tiny bit so I don't really move or react. It brings back a strange feeling deep in my gut of the first time a guy lifted my shirt in a sexual sense. It was my first year in college and we were kissing on my dorm room bed. I remember when he just did it and the fear I felt as well as the excitement and the wanting. How I both wanted and didn't want it. That's how this sort of feels.

Oh gosh, he's lifted it up to my bra now. That's when I feel his fingers dig into the bottom of my bra cups. A moment later, he's yanked my bra upward hard, allowing my C breasts to come bouncing out.

I feel the air on them in this dressing room, which shouldn't be that strange of a feeling as I've changed in tons of dressing rooms, but this time is different. This time I feel exposed and on display. I mean, my boobs are exposed. It's such a powerful feeling that I don't try to move or even fight as he pulls the front of my top and bra over my head to rest on the back of my neck, allowing my bare breasts to be fully exposed.

He steps back now, a huge smile on his face as he stares at my exposed bare breasts. His smile is wide too, showing he really likes them. Then in what is truly a humiliating act, he puts his hands on my hips and shakes me. Doing so makes my bare breasts jiggle about, causing him to smile larger and making me feel like an object as I feel them jiggle and move about.

Now his hands are unbuttoning my jeans. I know I could knee him in the face, or kick him, but something inside of me prevents this. Oddly I feel that it's my breasts being exposed that prevents me. For if I did kick or move, my tits would jiggle for him again. Something about feeling them do that...well I know he loves it.

I let out another soft yelp into my gag as he jerks not just my jeans but my panties down hard. So hard that my own jeans give me rug burn as they are forced down my legs. The yelp is brief and is covered up by the sound of the force of him yanking my pants and panties down.

For the first time in a very long time, I feel a sexual tingle, but it's not just between my legs, but in my gut. It feels like an emotional sexual tingle as strange as it is. And as much as I'm dismayed by what is happening, I know I'm becoming aroused by what he's done. For right now, as he has for several seconds, he looks at my shaved exposed womanhood.

Being quiet now, he pulls off my jeans and my panties to leave me all but naked in this small dressing room. He quietly folds them neatly and then places them on the bench. Like this entire time, he goes slow and calm, not having even a bit of fear or concern over what he is doing.

As I feel my heart pounding hard from the shock of all this, my brain tells me he is going slow to make sure no one suspects that anything is happening. My guess is that he's ready to bail at the slightly hint of trouble, not caring how he leaves me.

Then it finally hits me. I'm naked in this dressing room. Tied up, gagged and naked by a stranger. I don't know why it took so long to hit me, but when it does, it feels like a punch to the face. I mean, this can't really be happening right. I must have been drugged, or am asleep. This can't be happening to me of all people.

A whimper does escape in reaction to what he does now, as he's pulled out his cell. A bright light flashes from it and I know he's just taken a picture of me, naked and strung up on the wall. He takes another picture, surely capturing my face as well as my tits and pussy.

The feeling of being an object intensifies as he steps forward and takes a picture of my womanhood with the camera but inches from it. He proceeds to take several pictures of it like this. Then he does the same to my breasts, going so far as to take pictures of each individual boob.

But then he takes pictures of my face. Close ups of my face. And I stand there and take it. I let him take these pictures, telling myself that he will hurt me if I make any noise. But I won't lie to myself...I'm enjoying this. Something about this, I dunno, makes me feel alive. So I don't make noise, but that's because I want to see where this goes and don't want it to end.

The stranger backs up, leaving me a bit blind as the flashes make it hard to see for a bit. I shake my head some to try and see clearly but after a couple of seconds I'm able to see again.

I then see him inches from me, which surprises me, making me try and back up, even if there's no place to go. He has an evil looking smirk on his face as he stares me in the eyes, clearly not worried that I'm going to do anything at all.