She'd been awake for a while, but she didn't know exactly how long. Time had become distorted, it was hard to judge accurately and she was still fighting off the effects of whatever drug she'd been given.
She'd woken in complete darkness to the realization that she was tied spread eagle with her hands and feet pulled slightly up from the surface of the "bed" like she was tied to posts near the corners of the "bed".
She'd thought "bed" because whatever it was it was very soft and the coverlet on which she was lying felt velvety to her back and buttocks, which was how she knew she was naked. The room was warm, and smelled of lavender and ylang ylang.
What the hell? Who the fuck has got me and where the FUCK am I?
Were her first conscious thoughts, then panic lanced through her as she realized her position...
Oh God, whoever it is, please don't let him kill me. Please, please pleasepleaseplease!
The last thing she remembered was leaving the club. The group of guys she usually danced with had either gone home or hooked up with someone and bored with no one to dance; she'd decided to go home too. She'd told her girlfriends bye, gone to her car and was inserting the key in the door when she'd felt a sharp sting on her neck... and that was the last thing she remembered till she'd woken up here wherever that was.
Her head felt fuzzy and her eyes were really dry and itchy, and she was very thirsty. She wished she could see something but the fucking room was jet black; no light of any kind came to her. She pulled at the ropes on her arms and legs, her anxiety increasing as the minutes ticked agonizingly by, but she was held fast. There were some kind of leather cuffs on her ankles and wrists. She searched with her fingertips and found sturdy nylon ropes attached to the cuffs with some kind of metal clip.
Her fear infused imagination worked frantically playing every possible scenario trying to make sense of her predicament. But nothing made any sense. She poked and prodded through every detail she could remember about being at the club trying to remember if there had been anyone watching her or anything weird that had happened. But nothing stood out as unusual. It had been like any other time she'd gone to the club to dance with her friends.
Her shoulders were beginning to ache and a tear slipped from the corner of one eye as she strained to hear...anything, see... anything.
A whisper of a noise! A soft slippery sound in the darkness and she froze, her heart thudding painfully in her chest, fear like ice water flowed through her body stirring the gooseflesh that marched across her skin drawing her nipples tight and hard.
What was that?
She thought. It sounded like someone breathing softly nearby.
Why can't I see anything? It's so freaking' dark, can he see me? GOD, I'm so thirsty...and my eyes itch!
She wished she could scratch them.
"Is someone here?" her whisper faded into the darkness. She didn't know why she was whispering, but she knew it would just be too weird to talk loudly.
No answer, just the faint sound of breathing. "Please, don't hurt me. What do you want with me?"
She cursed herself for a stupid question. She was tied up and naked, what did she think the person wanted her for... Really?!
"Please say something." She pleaded her voice soft and shaky; the continued quiet was driving her crazy and she began playing torture scenarios through her mind wondering how long she could endure that sort of thing.
Panicky, she pulled at the tethers, but they held fast. A soft chuckle touched her ear and she froze instantly... it was deep, and soft and husky. A spicy, slightly musky scent drifted toward her.
Mmmm, he smells good... well, that's good, right? At least he's clean. Not a filthy street person.
She shook her head at the thought.
As if it really matters that your rapist smells good while he's raping you or killing you or worse! Oh, man, this is Karma paying me back for being a pervert! Oh, I knew better! Oh, yeah! I did, but it just felt so good at the time... God!
She sniffled and another tear leaked from her eye and slid across her cheekbone and disappeared into her hair.
Yep, pretty sure this is God paying me back for all that kinky shit last year with Dennis.
She was pretty sure she had been born with a rape fantasy. Maybe it was a Karmic holdover from a past life. She'd played imaginary bondage games ever since she was a girl imagining herself tied up, held captive by some evil king or something like the heroines in the movies, then as a teenager the fantasies took more serious twists. She'd discovered those bodice-ripper paperbacks especially loving the parts where the handsome Pirate Captain ravishes the beautiful captive against her will, and she...well, kinda likes it and falls in love with him. The Ann Rice Vampire series and others added fuel to the flames. Then as an adult, she discovered internet erotica and her fantasies matured into an obsession. She even had a boyfriend for a while that had played out bondage fantasies with her. They spent whole weekends playing Master/slave role play, but this was way different than that had been. She'd never been afraid when Dennis had tied her up. This was terrifying and she thought her heart was going to burst from her chest any minute.
Oh, God!