TRUNKED . . .

 

HER

 

I must be overtired . . . unable to open my eyes . . . so very groggy. I'm trying to open them again, only to notice something is pushing against them! Reaching up to . . . I can't move my arms! Deciding to call out, finding the only thing I can do, is notice there's a gag deep in my mouth!

 

As my grogginess clears, I start to hear the hum of the engine and feel the vibrations of the moving vehicle! Still confused as hell to where I am and what's happening. My senses grow to reveal more details to my surrounding . . . and it's not good!

 

My dress and heels are gone! I'm down to only my nylons, garter, panties and bra. Wrists and ankles appear to be in wide leather straps. The straps are locked onto my limbs and then locked together! Still very weak from whatever caused me to end up like this, but strong enough to realize, these straps aren't coming off . . . without keys, that is!

 

After rubbing my head around on what must be the floor of the trunk, I'm guessing the gag and blindfold is a combo deal. The little bit of movement I can get on one or the other, directly affects both of them. A few times the locks used to hold it in place, rubbed against the floor. This isn't coming off either!

 

Guess I'm happy my dress is gone, because it's really hot back here! Plus, maybe it's not wrecked.

 

I realize, I am pressed up against what seems like the part of the trunk furthest from the direction of travel . . . I decide to try and scoot to a more open area to feel less enclosed. I know, it sounds stupid . . .

 

Leading with my stocking covered feet, I don't move them more than six or seven inches before bumping into something made of flesh! I jerked back as much as possible as my ankle lock rattles some and my heels hit the metal back wall of the trunk! Fuck!

 

At first, I don't budge an inch. My only movements are driven by whoever is also driving this car. A quick breaking and I roll and bump against the metal back wall. If they speed up quickly, I'm rolling towards whatever or whoever is back here with me!

 

Doing what I can to not roll into this person by bending my knees a little to brace myself. With this move, my knees push into the back of his legs! How do I know it's a him? The legs feeling hairy are a pretty good hint. That, plus after moving my head forward, I also got a good whiff of his cologne!

 

There could for sure be a bunch of way worse smelling things back here, so I'm not complaining about that part at all. I've also made contact with enough of him already, to realize he's shirtless and pant-less. As far as the middle part . . . I'm still working on how to investigate that area.

 

His cologne is so f'n intoxicating, for a few seconds I forgot the bigger picture. Someone or 'someones', have stripped me half naked and this guy possibly totally naked . . . (jury's still out on that one), then gagged, blindfolded, strapped and locked me helpless, in what I think is the trunk of a car!

 

I've essentially been kidnapped with some stranger, who I've yet to determine if he's even helpless like me or not? Is he awake and just along for the ride with the helpless chick? Did he pass out or is he about to be sacrificed with myself to some evil, fur covered and antlered worshipers?

 

I have endless questions that need answers now! Starting with more about this so yummy smelling man . . .

 

ELECTRIFYING REALISATION

 

HIM

 

It was the headache that wakes me, not the bump of stocking covered feet. That comes a few minutes later, whilst I try to work out, why my head feels like it was splitting open, or had been split open with a circular saw.

 

I'd worked out by the time she touched me that I am probably in the trunk of a car. Though it would have to be a big one, but there is carpet below me.

 

I can hear the engine and feel the bumps and turns in the road. Whoever is driving, is in a hurry it appears, from the speed of the acceleration after a corner. The last one brought the first sense of movement to my consciousness and the feel of a stocking covered knee hitting my calf.

 

They could be tights of course. As a stocking fetishist I'd try to push my arms back, so I could investigate, but they won't go quite far enough. I have some sort of waist harness on and my upper arms are connected to it, by a very tight chain.

 

The attempted movement brings another scary realization, that the same harness is some-how connected to my cock and balls. There is cold metal squeezing my balls apart and some ring device around the base of my cock confirming some form of cock and ball torture is likely in play.

 

That is Mistress's style.

 

My eyes are closed and won't open, but I explore my mouth with my tongue. To my surprise, my mouth is empty. Yet she likes gagging her toys. This makes me feel more apprehensive.

 

Should I shout or scream for the driver to stop, maybe the driver doesn't know that two or possibly more of us are in this space.

 

However, I know I am making some assumptions that are dangerous. Is my co-passenger a lady? Whoever it is has stockings on and has a gorgeous perfume, which I recognize as Bottega Veneta. In the circles my Mistress moves in, though, it is still possible my co-traveller has a cock. I shudder at the thought. I never enjoy playing my Mistress's games, that involve me sucking cock, or having a real one, penetrate me.

 

As I can, I decide the right course of action is to speak to my co-traveller, who is clearly awake behind me, whoever it is.

 

"Hello, Are you..." I don't get any further. As I speak an electric shock, rips through my balls, lighting them up in fiery pain. My legs spasm at the intensity of the pain at their apex.

 

I don't imagine that the timing is coincidental, nor do I think someone had heard me and pressed a button to activate the electric shock, the timing was too instantaneous.

 

As my faculties recover from the nauseating shock, I guess there is some noise triggering algorithm applied to the electrical stimulation device.

 

Just as well I hadn't shouted loud as I suspect the louder the noise, the more intense will be the voltage applied. She had talked jokingly of a voice triggering system for some of her toys, last week. At the time, I thought she was making it up to scare me, but it seems like that was just my wishful thinking.

 

Where is the microphone and why is it not reacting to the engine and road noise?

 

I guess the detail doesn't matter. I have my mouth, but I can't use it to speak.

 

It is time to explore my co-passenger. I hoped it doesn't have a cock, but I fear the worst. I prepare to turn and rollover....