(Before you read this story you may wish to view a trigger warning Here)
The slave sat at the airport restaurant with her bag next to her feet. There wasn’t much in it, as the man had told her she wouldn’t need much. Just some personal care things and a couple of her favorite toys. He said he would take care of everything else.
She glanced herself over again, wanting to make sure everything was in order. Her loose fitting blouse was the same color as her hair: reddish brown. Her jeans were snug, so much so that she was sure her panties were showing through them. She was surprised when he said he didn’t care if she wore them or not. All the others told her not to wear any.
She had been sitting there awhile, thinking things over. Their talks online and his coming out to Raleigh and meeting her face to face. My God, she thought to herself, He was so confident and his eyes were so hard. Maybe too hard, she said to herself again.
Looking down at her cell phone, to see if she missed a text from him, she wondered where He was. She had flown out from the east coast to the middle of America to meet this Man on his home ground. Did I make a mistake, she asked herself. Was He not going to show up?
She looked around the room and started to panic. Slumping down, she put the cell in her lap and logged on the website they met at. Nope, no messages there either.
“Sit up straight. You look like a slob like that.” A voice told her, very sternly.
The Slave’s head snapped up and there He was, right in front of her. The Man had somehow seated himself at her table without making a sound. She sat upright as fast as she could, back barely touching the cushion of her chair.
“Hello Sir! I’m sorry for not sitting properly. It won’t happen again.” She told him, as she tried to make herself as presentable as she could.
“Quiet. When I want to hear from you, I will tell you.” He sternly replied.
Reaching into his inner coat pocket, The Man pulled out three objects and set them on the table in front of her one at a time: a car key with a small tag attached to it, a hotel room card, and a small packet of papers.
“This is your last chance to back out.” He told her. Picking up the card and showing it to her, “This is room at the hotel next door. It is paid for.” Next He showed her the packet, “The room has been paid and you can stay for 3 days. This also has a return plane ticket to home.”
Setting the packet back on the table, his forefinger then tapped the car key. “This,” He told her as His eyes never left hers, “is a key to a cargo van at the back of the parking lot. You will use it to unlock the back door and climb inside. There you will find a crate inside and in that will be a set of handcuffs. You will put them on and kneel beside the crate until I come out. Leave your bag here.”
“Choose now.”
The slave blinked at Him and then at the three objects on the table. Slowing reaching out her hand toward the card, she found herself suddenly darting towards the car key. Picking it up, she seemed to be floating as she rose from the table and headed for the door of the restaurant.
The Van was parked where He said it would be, with the rear facing away from the restaurant. Walking to the back, she found the key did indeed fit the lock and she could open the door. Still standing outside, she could see in to look the interior over.
There was the crate He mentioned. It was like a rather large dog kennel, but much sturdier. It was constructed of heavy duty plastic and had a large metal grate for the front door. On top, she noticed a rugged padlock.
With a sigh, The slave climbed in the van and then reached back to shut the door. The roof of the van was not very tall, so she had to crawl to the crate. When she got to it, she undid the latch and reached inside. There she found the handcuffs.
They were ordinary police handcuffs. The kind she saw on cop shows all the time. The slave had seen them used on various scenes down at the club, but never used any herself. Looking over the cuffs, she moved her eyes to her wrist. First one then the other.
She sighed again and snapped one cuff around her left wrist. The ratcheting sound seemed to echo within the van. With a gulp, she put both hands behind her back and spent some minutes getting the other cuff on her right wrist. When she finally got it locked, she knelt down beside the crate and closed her eyes. Waiting.
It what seemed forever to her, The slave heard footsteps outside the van. Then the sound of one of the front doors opened and a thump of something hitting one of the seats. The door slammed shut and the footsteps returned.
Behind her, the sound of the back door opened, and the van shifted as someone got in with her. Suddenly The slave’s head snapped back, as a hand had grabbed her hair and pulled hard.
“When I tell you to do something, do it right!” His voice growled in her ear. Her head was thrown forward and she fell down to the floor of the van. She then felt His hand wrap themselves around her wrists and the pressure of the cuffs increased.
She was trying to tell Him how sorry she was when the air was forced from her by His body laying on top of her. Trying to catch her breath, her head snapped back again, and his voice was saying “Now get it that crate before we have some real problems.”
Turning her head, she again looked at the crate and tears started to drip from the corners. “Yes Sir” The slave whispered and felt His weight disappear from her body. She inched herself as fast as she could toward the crate.
Pushing with her still free legs, she managed to get in up to her waist. That was when she felt His foot on her butt and pushed her in further. Shifting to her back, she bent her knees until she could feel all of her in her the crate.
She shuttered when she could hear Him click the padlock on the grate behind her.