Page 9 of His Keepsake

This was roleplay. He was acting, right?

“Better.”

Dark hair stippled his jaw, framed his face, though the exact shade was impossible to determine.

Who was he, really?

The light played across his arms, hands, face as he bent over me and fastened my ankles together with a belt, pulled it in tight, buckled it snugly. I shifted my legs subtly, sure I could get the belt off them eventually. He’d been watching though, and his mouth curved. From a black duffle bag beside me, he drew a roll of tape, which he used to cinch in the belt where it ran between my ankles.

He held the tape before my eyes, with a stretch of it unrolled between his hands.

“What kind of woman walks alone at night in the middle of nowhere?”

I shook my head.

“What were you looking for? A man to fuck your needy pussy?”

I opened my mouth, shut it.

What if this wasn’t the right man?

“No.”

His eyebrows rose. “Liar.”

“Are you…” I ventured, quietly, my voice shaking with my dismay. My toes curled. The wrong answer from him would be catastrophic. I almost didn’t want to know—it was too late. “What’s the word? You know? The—” I swallowed as his eyes remained fastened on me, with that tape between us.

“I told you to shut up.” His enigmatic smile could mean he was playing me, or anything else I felt like reading into it.

He wriggled the tape between my lips and wrapped it behind my head, repeating that several times until he tied it off. It wasn’t the sticky sort. Bondage tape, or similar. What real kidnapper had that?

Nervously, I watched as he retrieved a green cloth bag from behind me and shook it out. He put it over my head and cinched it closed by knotting something—the handles I guessed. Blinded, I found the cloth sucked in whenever I breathed. Even though it was fairly open at the neck I registered the closed-in space as a cloying threat to my existence.

Calm down. Breathe.

I liked breathing.

He wouldn’t do all this just to suffocate me…no matter who he was, right?

“I’d fuck you here and now, but who knows who might wander by. Still…” His big hand pushed my dress to my waist, though the light fabric had already gathered under my ass.

“Such pretty see-through panties.” His finger felt along the upper edge of my panties then slid lower in a snakelike pattern over my mons.

I imagined him watching that finger as it slithered downward.

“What else have you got for me? Open your legs.”

With the bag blanking out sight, the feel of him there, almost violating me, just above where I ached…it became exquisitely vivid.

My eyelids quivered. My lips parted. This…this was what I wanted.

“Open.” He slapped my butt then pinched a piece of flesh together until I yelped and opened my legs as far as was possible with my ankles tied.

“A sopping wet little cunt.” His thick finger prodded along my slit, sliding on cloth and yes, I was wet.

What else would I be, with this happening, with a stranger doing what I’d dreamed of since forever?

I let out a soft, hopefully inaudible moan as he slipped his fingers under the edge to explore my slit, then rolled aside the crotch of the panties. He shoved one finger inside me without warning. My gasp was automatic. I barely stopped myself arching. The wet sounds as he silently violated me further were impossible to hide.

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