It was Dark!

She slowly regained consciousness, trying to understand why she couldn’t see anything. Trying to open her eyes, thinking to at least see something, she realised that they were already open. Her vision hunted around, hoping to see something, some glimmer of light, some difference in the shadow, but there was nothing, just the dark.

Realising her nakedness, fear rose up inside her; she had no memory of getting undressed. Who had unclothed her, why, what had they planned? She felt exposed and vulnerable, lying there on the strange bed. She could feel the sheets, cool against her naked flesh, the air chill but not uncomfortable; the cold caressed her body like a lover’s touch, her nipples hardening to soft taut peaks, her skin tightening, sensitised to every movement of the air.

She tried to move, her arms were bound tight, her legs too and the girl came to realise that she was bound by some sort of padded cuffs, hardly feeling them against her skin, but restrained completely. Reaching out with her hands she found soft silk rope holding the cuffs on her wrists. Soft yes, but thick and far too strong for her to break, but she tried anyhow. Pulling against the ropes, fear rising within her, lending her strength, but to no avail, the bonds were secure.

The beginnings of panic were taking hold, she tried to remember where she was, why she was here, but the last thing she knew was the club. She had gone there with a friend, for a drink and dancing, but then her mind was a blank, how she came to be here a mystery. She called out, quietly at first, scared of whom might respond. Nothing. Louder and louder she cried, hoping to hear anything, but apart from her own voice all was silent.

After a while, voice horse and throat sore from yelling, she fell silent. Lying there naked, spread and bound in the dark and silent room, if indeed it was a room, fear gripped her and she felt tears rise in her eyes.

Thoughts of why, how, where, skittered through her head. Was she ever going to get out of here, was there worse to come? The girl lay there racked with fear, gently sobbing at her helplessness.

Then she sensed it, a presence, she couldn’t see anything but maybe she had heard something, she couldn’t be sure. She was, however, sure that there was someone, or something, there in the darkness watching over her. She fell silent trying to discern what the presence was, but all was silent. Then she heard a noise, the slightest hint of swishing fabric, like a heavy curtain moving aside and the presence was gone.

Later, she no longer knew how long she had been lying alone in the darkness; the noise again, had the presence returned? She tried to focus, but her mind was racing, she was sure that someone was there, above her.

Cool long fingers rested feather-like on her belly, she gasped and tried to recoil, but there was nowhere to go. She wanted to call out, ask for help, but fear took her, paralysed her.

The fingers caressed gently, up her belly and between her breasts, just reaching her throat before disappearing. Immediately she felt herself craving the touch again, while repulsed at the idea of a stranger touching her naked flesh, the touch was all she had and she needed the contact, to know she was not alone.

The caress came again, this time her ankle, the fingers sliding up her leg, slowly, then lingered on her thigh, stroking the soft tender flesh and then again gone, as suddenly as they had come.

She lay there, awaiting the next touch but it didn’t come. There were no sounds; of breath, of the strangers clothing; no sense of anything there moving. The only smell in the air, beyond her own, was a musty dry ancient scent. Nothing to indicate anyone was in the room but her.

Waiting, pleading in her head for more contact, but not getting the desired caress. She hated her need, disturbed at the reaction this stranger was causing, but craving the touch still. Time passed and it seemed that there was no-one there. She began to wonder if the caresses had been real, or just figments of her imagination. Her mind started to fantasise about being touched and she found herself becoming mildly aroused.

Then suddenly, long after she was sure that the touches hadn’t been real, the fingers returned. Sliding over her hip and up her side, brushing past her breast, caressing along the exposed underside of her arm and then back down came the stranger’s hand. She arched towards the touch, desiring more, and this time her needs were met, the hand cupped her full, pert young breast, the nipple hardening further to the touch. Nails scratched along the tender underside of the breast, causing a gasp of pleasure from deep within her. The hand moved on, gently fondling and scratching her other breast, then upwards, the fingers moved along her shoulder, dancing across her collarbone, nails sliding up her neck and around her throat.

Her breaths shortened into gasps, the pleasure of the caress heightened by the need for contact, by the helplessness of her situation, as a second hand joined the first caressing across her belly and onto her breasts, she moaned softly, giving in totally to the pleasure of the touch.

Between her legs a heat was growing, her body desiring greater stimulation, crying out for release. As if they knew this, fingers slid between her legs, gently spreading her lips and running up over her hidden entrance and across her clitoris. The slightest touch sent waves of pleasure through her, never before had she felt like this. Across her body and between her legs the fingers continued their magic, her body responded, giving itself totally to the touches, the pleasure rising up inside her like a fire.

Fingertips danced over her clitoris, causing it to harden against their caress. No lover in her young life had caused her to feel like this. The arousal from the strokes of the hand across her sensitised skin and the fingers flitting between her legs became so intense as to be almost painful. The pain grew into ecstasy rising up through her, skin aflame, all thought gone, only pleasure remaining.

Crying out into the darkness, the sensations of the touches exploding though her, her climax building, she lay there writhing against the bond that pinned her down. One finger thrusting into her, long and rigid sliding against her insides, tipped her over the edge, her moans and cries became screams of pleasure as the orgasm ripped through her body, every nerve alive with sensation, pulsing through her for what seemed like an eternity and then the touches were gone.

Panting, a sheen of perspiration covering her entire body, she lay there as the pleasure gradually left her body, her breaths coming more slowly. Shame now mingled with the pleasure, she was repulsed at her reaction to the touch of a stranger. How could someone she didn’t know, had never even seen, have such a reaction on her. Then another sensation, the slight brush of lips against hers, then pushing down into a kiss, her lips parted slightly and a tongue thrust hard down her throat, stealing all breath and then again it was gone, leaving her feeling empty.

The lips were replaced soon afterwards by the cool sensation of glass, her head was lifted gently and the drink offered, only as the liquid touched her lips did she realise her thirst and drank deeply of the cool water. As she lay back, she was tired, so tired. Her eyes closed and sleep took her, dreamless, peaceful; an enchanted sleep.

It was Dark…

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