Tricked

Reaching across the slumbering girl to the glove compartment, he popped it open and removed the baseball cap and the pair of latex gloves he’d stored there earlier. He put the cap on his head and pulled it down low. Next, he put on the gloves.

Reaching for the purse at the inert girl’s feet, he opened it and rummaged for her cell. He climbed out, careful to keep his back to the building as an extra precaution. Her cell phone in hand, he walked around to the back of the dumpster, definitely out of sight of any possible cameras. He dropped her phone into a plastic bag he’d brought along for the purpose, along with the burner phone. Placing the bag on the ground, he stomped on it repeatedly. When he was sure the phones were completely destroyed, he tossed the bag into the dumpster, along with the latex gloves.

Returning to the car, he slid back into the driver’s seat and tucked the cap into his jacket pocket. Callie was twitching again, her eyelids flickering. Time to put her under properly. He reached for the syringe from his inner pocket. Uncapping it, he drew back the plunger and reached with his free hand to flick up the hem of her skirt.

He slid the needle carefully into her thigh and slowly depressed the plunger. That dose should be enough to knock her out cold for at least the next four hours. He’d dose her once more on the plane so she’d stay out until he got her settled at the rental house.

He turned on the radio to some heavy metal as he pulled back onto the highway and opened the windows, letting the wind blow in his face. The pulsing energy of the music matched his mood. This was really happening. His wildest fantasy was about to come true.

He glanced at the inert girl and reached out, placing a hand lightly against her slack mouth to make sure she was still breathing. Her warm breath tickled his hand. He placed his palm flat against her chest. Her heart was beating strong and sure.

Unable to resist, he slid his hand into her blouse, reaching into the lacy bra to cup one sweet, round breast. His fingers found her nipple. He rolled it until it was erect and then gave it a sharp twist.

She didn’t react at all.

Replacing his hand on the wheel, he returned his focus to the road. A broad grin moved over his face as his cock stiffened with anticipation. He couldn’t wait to claim her properly.

~*~

Callie opened her eyes slowly, feeling as if she’d just emerged from deep under water. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She’d been having the weirdest dreams. No, more like nightmares. She’d been trapped somewhere, unable to see or speak or move. The details were already fading, but the sense of helpless dread still lingered like a palpable presence.

Thank goodness she was awake now and safe in her own bed.

Why was the room so dark?

She turned her head toward the single window in her small bedroom. There was always light in the big city, no matter the hour.

Wait.

What the hell?

Why was it pitch black outside, so dark she couldn’t even see the outline of the window? And where were the usual sounds of the omnipresent traffic? She strained to hear but was met only with a heavy silence. Was the city in a total blackout?

She tried to sit up and was startled to realize she couldn’t move. Her arms and legs were somehow pinned down. She lifted her head, straining to see her surroundings, and was suddenly assailed by dizziness so powerful she thought she was going to pass out.

She fell back against the pillows. Except there was no pillow beneath her head—just a very hard mattress. Rather than the air-conditioned comfort of her new apartment, the air around her was damp and warm, the smell musty.

Something was very, very wrong.

Her brain felt fuzzy and sluggish. She was befuddled and unable to think clearly. She had absolutely no memory of how she could have gotten to this awful place, wherever it was. She had the foreboding feeling she’d been there—or at least been totally out of it—for quite some time.

As she struggled to comprehend her circumstances, a cold spurt of terror froze the blood in her veins. Why couldn’t she move? Why was her head pounding like the worst hangover ever? And why was her mouth so dry that her tongue was actually sticking to the roof of her mouth?

Where in god’s name was she?

She gave an involuntary cry of terror, her voice little more than a rasping croak. She stilled, listening for any telltale sound that might clue her in as to where she was. Total, ominous silence surrounded her.