October 25, 2009

Building Supplies, part 2 of 3

The Consensual Stalker
She sat there, quiet and still, breathing heavily with anticipation, head down and gripping the steering wheel, suddenly there was movement out of the corner of her eye. He was reaching in through the window and she felt something being pulled down over her head, and positioned. She realizing it was a sleeping mask style of blindfold. As he settled it into place, the darkness calmed her, and she was surprised how happy she felt to be back under this mans influence again. She instinctively trusted him. There was the sound of rustling packages, and she felt something wrapping around her right wrist, an odd feeling, until she heard the plastic zipping sound, realizing it was a zip tie, binding her wrist/hand to the steering wheel. A sense of vulnerability came over her as she realized she was being restrained in her car, in the parking lot of a building supply store by a stranger, in the middle of the afternoon. And as that thought was sinking in, a zip tie was wrapped around and clinched down onto her left hand as well. Not too tight, but close around her wrist and the steering wheel. She pulled her arms back to see if her hands could slip through, and they wouldn't.

"Yes," he said, "Test the bindings; assure yourself you are trapped here." She pulled and twisted her hands and wrists again, it was certain that she could not disengage her hands from the steering wheel. As she relaxed again, she felt his hand touching her cheek, gently holding her jaw and lifting her head up, and turning it toward him. She was now facing him but could see nothing through the blindfold. As he held her face in his hand, she felt his thumb lightly tracing her cheek, soothing her slightly, and calming her down. And then, unexpectedly, she felt his lips pressing against her. Even before she realized what she was doing, she tilted her head to mesh her lips to his. She was returning his kiss almost instinctively, not really intending to do so, more a reactive gesture, but some how it felt right to her. She was surprised how warm, and soft and comforting his kiss felt.
He moved his hand away from her, so he was no longer holding her to him, forcing his kiss on her, but she leaned forward, continuing the kiss, opening her mouth slightly to encourage and entice him in, closer, deeper, wanting him to kiss her more fully. He remained neither closer nor further away, his lips were still pressed lightly against her. Boldly she found herself gripping his lower lip with her teeth and pulling, hoping to draw him nearer, but he remained steady, still not moving closer, but not drawing back either. She bit down harder on his lip and pulled back even more; suddenly she felt a startling slap on her cheek, it jarred her head and she felt shock and puzzlement.

"No!" he said, in a stern and deep tone. He had pulled back away from her; she could no longer feel his breath on her lips or chin. There was a long and deepening silence, and she could not sense any movement. Finally, in a soft, slow, almost sad tone, he said, "I thought you would enjoy soft, sweet kisses, but evidently I was mistaken." She was scared, sorrowful, sad, and unsure what to do. She worried that he might just walk away.

In a very small voice, she said, "Please?"

From a distance, he asked, "What?"

Softly, she responded, "Please . . . please." But there was no response. "Oh, please." She turned her head and leaned forward, as if she could look out the window, as if to find him.

Finally she heard, from startlingly close, "Good girl, thank you baby."

She felt him take her head in both of his hands, "Good girl," and gently, his lips returned to hers. His fingers tangled into the hair on both sides of her head and pulled her to him, deepening the kiss, relaxing his lips, opening them slightly, invitingly. Calming herself, filled with relief, she relaxed and settled into returning the kiss, opening her lips to him, matching his motions, allowing his tongue to slip slowly into her mouth. She sighed.
She was amazed how long the kiss lasted, and then another, and another. He had never been this slow and passionate with her. Still with his hands tangled in her hair, gripping her curls tightly, she moved to reposition her mouth, wanting to feel the fullness of his lips, his nose against her right cheek. Then she shifted so it was against her left cheek, all the while, her tongue moved in and out between his lips, touching his tongue when they met, dancing hers around his. A couple times she started to use her teeth on his lips, but felt him start to pull away, just slightly, and she recalled the recent slap, and she reconsidered, satisfying herself with the tenderness of the kisses.

Faintly she heard a rustling noise to her right and realized his hand had left the side of her head. It sounded like he was rummaging through a shopping bag on the passenger seat, her bag? Or his? Not until this moment did she wonder where the blindfold and zip ties had come from. He must have had a bag also. Just then she felt him release his grip on her hair and pull back, ending the kiss. She sensed the rustling of movement around her, and then felt something on her forehead. She felt pressure pushing her head back and down, she was nearly facing straight up toward the roof of the car.

She felt a pulling back, pressuring her head back against the head rest and felt movement, pulling her head slightly this way or that, and felt hands and wrists and arms movement around her neck and shoulders. She could not figure out what on earth he was doing. Finally, everything was calm, but still she could not move her head up off of the headrest, she could barely move it from side to side, just the slightest bit. "Are you uncomfortable?" he asked? She answered. "I am okay."

There was a band across her forehead and she decided it was one of the wide, large elastic bands she had bought. It was pressed across her forehead and back, so her head was pushed against the headrest. She decided that the fumbling around the sides of her head, behind her neck, was him attaching it to the headrest somehow, so that she was fastened, leaning back, facing up, and unable to lift her head up or forward. It was not so tight as to be uncomfortable, but it held her immovable. Again, there was stillness, lack of motion but she could hear him breathing very nearby, a strange quiet, calm. But she realized again, just exactly where she was, and the "circumstances" she was in.

Then she felt his fingers brushing her face, she realized he was pushing the blindfold up onto her forehead. She was startled by how bright the sunlight was, but the way her head was restrained, all she could see was the headliner. She tried looking down her nose, to lean her head down, but could just slightly see the glass of the windshield. Try as she might, she could not see his face, although she caught glimpses of the top of his head, but no more. As she attempted to look at him she saw his movement as he reached over into the bags on the passenger seat, and heard the rustling, and wondered what he was getting out of the bag. Out of his bag? Out of her bag?

She suddenly felt his hand sliding up the inside of her thigh . . .


  1. Ohhhh...such a sexy scenario!I think you did a lovely job of getting inside the head of the girl, even to the point of her confusion when he was cross with her and her reminding herself to do it as he wanted.


  2. mmmmmm...
    That being made to calm down and focus...

    oh! sorry! I'm supposed to be writing a comment here, aren't I? Where IS my mind...?

    very nice. :-)

  3. I was at Big Box Store yesterday. Found myself lookin' around, and smiling as I cruised through the parking lot (I tend to stride quickly, not stroll)...now I have a few minutes and find! YES! Part 2...how exciting...how wonderful...how....ahhhhhhh....he releases the blindfold after restraining her head (using her supplies, lol!)and she still can't see him...wonderful!
    She is hot. No.Wait. That's me...
    sooo looking forward to the next installment!


  4. It's a very intriguing story, and I love the way the rhythm and tone of your writing match exactly the events and feel of the plot: un-hurried, deliberate, detailed...So much more effective this way

  5. i love the contrast between the real scariness of what he's doing and the sweet tenderness that he actually gives to her when he's got her in this crazily vulnerable position.

    only thing is... how could she be bent all the way back, staring at the ceiling, and still have her wrists tied to the steering wheel? she'd have to be part-ape. ;)

    (either way, i'm glad that things got moved around. i was scared for a minute that he was going to have her drive blind-folded!) :)

  6. This is just beautiful..I do love the slow way he does things!
    The big hardware store will never, ever be the same for me~

  7. "I had followed the blog of the English Gentleman, Roper, for quite some time and while I did not agree with some of his views, I find myself to be generally of the same ilk. Most of the dominant writings you find seem to focus on heavy, S&M, slave relations...”

    I was pointed your way by The Beautiful Kind. I have found the above true, and have been searching with little luck those who see kink a bit more like me. I am a sensualist not sadist. If you know of any blogs either dominant of submissive that are sensualistically centered (and YES, to the S/M crowd I do realize that S/M is also sensual), I would be thankful if you might point me in that direction, if you might be so kind. I’m new to the blogosphere, but if you do have suggestions I can be found here:


    Until then I will try (when time allows), to begin at the beginning (a good place to start), go back to your first posting and try and make my way through to the present. I find intros to blogs rather fascinating and the best way to see if words or aims resonate.

    But you come highly recommended by a most unique woman.



  8. I fell behind and can't wait to go read part 3!!