Ciana Rose's Erotic Stories


See No Evil

Tom Clement

All Rights Reserved




Part 1


Joanne looked at herself in the bathroom mirror as she finished applying her lipstick. She hated these crumby Hicksville motels. These out of town jobs were the worst. She shook off her feeling of isolation, telling herself she was being irrational. She stepped back and placed her hands on her hips. Even if today's job was a chore, at least she would look good doing it, she smiled to herself. But then it was not hard for Joanne to look good. After all, she was quite beautiful by anyone's standard. Twenty-seven years old, 5 feet 5 inches tall with a fabulous slim figure, shoulder length red-black hair and beautiful legs that men noticed and other women envied. She was an attractive girl, with a soft complexion, classically pretty face and deep brown eyes. She had something most men notice almost immediately in a woman. Her femininity was overt, from the way she moved to the way she occasionally flicked her hair, from her mannerisms to her clothes, she had female stamped indelibly into every part, as quality is stamped into a high-class German car. Looks from men were something she had gotten used to, although it would not be unfair to say that she sometimes dressed and acted to encourage it.

Nevertheless, it was her skills that she would have to put to good use today. Joanne Kendal, Spearman Brown Company's 'trouble shooting' Human Resource operator. That's what they told her anyway. She was due in a meeting at the Wellingsworth offices, Spearman Brown's Virginia headquarters. After some initial manoeuvring, she was going to give its head, Sam Baxter, his coup de grace. The company had wanted his scalp for a while, and now it was time for Joanne to do the deed for them. Sam Baxter knew his days with the company were almost up.

She sighed as she looked herself up and down. She liked to dress smartly, but not without the sexy overtones that made her feel attractive. Her long dark skirt fitted closely and finished just below the knee, teamed with a light coloured blouse, open just enough to reveal a suggestion of her modest cleavage. She looked down at her dark high-heeled court shoes, not really even passable as office wear, but just deliberately and provocatively sexy. They were almost black, with a slightly rounded toe, and deep sensuously curving stiletto heels. Her legs were lightly tanned but otherwise bare. Joanne was rather proud of the way she could look sexy and business-like at one and the same time. After all, there was no harm in looking good.

She looked at the clock. 08.15hrs. It was time to go. She had already checked out at reception, so she took one last look around the motel room, and then gathered her bag and her document wallet. God, the body odour from that guy on the desk had almost been enough to overpower her. And then she had seen him out of the corner of her eye practically salivating over her. Ugh. She shuddered as she closed the door for the last time. Hell, let's get this one over with and get the hell out of here, she thought to herself. Joanne dropped the room keys into the slot outside the reception area and headed toward the chain diner, which was next door to the motel. She pushed the door open and walked purposefully toward the serving area. She loved the sound her heels made on the tiles and the way her close fitting skirt gripped her at the knees as she walked down the aisle. Although it was still relatively early and the diner was not very busy, there were perhaps half a dozen patrons scattered around the thirty or so tables, all of them men. She knew that every single one of them had noticed her enter, and with great satisfaction, she could feel their eyes following her down the central aisle. At the counter she stopped, standing with her feet purposely tightly together, while she decided what to have. It was a deliberate pose, and she knew damn well that standing like this made her look so sweetly sexy. Still, she wasn't really hungry, so she ordered an orange juice and a bagel, paid with cash, and then went to sit down at a table near the window.

She sat for a while, watching the traffic speed by on the interstate 100 yards away. The idea of these guys stealing glances at her felt good and she could feel the slight atmosphere. Now and again, she could see the man nearest her looking at her from the corner of her eye, but she was content to let him have his moment. She sighed and pulled out the company folder on Baxter, thumbing idly through the pages she had read 10 times before, just to make sure she had missed nothing, or just for something to do while she sat there, she wasn't really sure. The image of the man from his photograph inside the cover floated in her mind for a moment, the overweight, flabby man she had come here to "dispose" of. In a way, she felt sorry for him. Not because he was losing his job, no sir, that happened every day in a company like this. She felt sorry for him because he was stupid. Stupid enough to let these people run rings around him and fire him when they no longer needed him. Stuff like that didn't happen to people like Joanne. No, she was good at this game of empires and was getting better at it every day. Shmucks like Baxter were the casualties.

Anyway, it was really time to make tracks. She finished her orange juice, then stood up and walked slowly up the aisle, searching in her bag for her car keys, feeling the eyes in the restaurant following her to the door. She opened it and began to walk purposefully across to her car. Damn, it had been late when she had checked in last night and the car park had been pretty full. As a result, she had to park a way off the rooms, and it was some distance to her car this morning. Still, the weather was fine and it looked like it was going to be a nice day for late autumn. As she reached her car and unlocked it with her remote control, she had a vague feeling of uneasiness. She couldn't think why. She supposed it was because she was out of view of the motel now. There were only two other cars and this corner of the car park was empty and deserted. But otherwise, everything appeared in order as she deposited her case on the back seat then slammed the rear door shut.

It was only as she placed her hand on the front door handle that the world slammed its brakes on her. Suddenly, Joanne was thrown from her ordered world into one of completely different values. A hand closed around her mouth, gripping her face with a force that she thought would break her jaw if she dared move. At the same time she felt what she quickly realised was the cold, hard barrel of an automatic pressing against her neck. With an unerring calmness, a voice spoke softly, but very firmly into her ear.

"Listen very carefully, lady. You make a sound and I could get a bit nervous, then this here baby might just go off by accident and blow your pretty face right off, you hear me?"

Joanne stood frozen with fear, her eyes wide and all her usual confidence gone. The voice continued, slowly and calmly.

"Now if you understand me, you just nod very slowly, OK?"

Joanne nodded as she was bid. She tried to turn her eyes to see her assailant but he was just out of sight. She was aware that he was big and she could feel his presence behind her, the heat of his body against the thin material of her blouse and his hot breath against her neck. His hand around her mouth was huge and powerful, holding her silent with a grip like a vice.

"Now I'm a gonna take my hand away from your mouth, and you're gonna keep nice and quiet, OK?" said the voice slowly.

Joanne nodded abjectly, his hand still holding her silent.

"Now you nod twice if you understand I ain't playing fucking games here."

Joanne nodded twice in cold fear. Then the hand lifted slowly from her mouth and she watched as it dropped to her car and slowly opened the door.

"OK," said the voice again, "now this is what we're gonna do. You're gonna get in the driver's seat nice and quietly, but you don't speak and you keep looking ahead."

For a moment, she had allowed herself to believe that the man was after her car. But now she began to doubt that was all he was after. Again, she nodded slowly without taking her eyes from ahead. The gun still pressed hard against her neck, she felt his fingers pull her car keys from her right hand that dangled uselessly at her side.

"Good. Let's go then."

She marvelled at the voice in a detached way as she lowered herself into the driver's seat. It was rough but it had a kind of Jack Nicholson quality to it, dark but exciting at the same time. A little shiver ran down her spine as she sat in the car, and she stole the very briefest glimpse sideways at the man. Yes, he was a big guy. And oh. He looked good. She felt rather confused about that briefly, that she should be thinking that the man who had been holding a gun to her head a few moments before was good looking.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his hand reach forward and take hold of the handle on the inside of the driver's door. With a deft flick, the hand moved forward, pushing the door handle in the opposite direction to that in which it had been designed to move. There was a sharp crack as the aluminium handle completely broKe off, rendering the door un-operable from the inside. The door slammed shut.

Before Joanne had time to understand what was happening, the passenger door swung open and the man climbed into the car next to her. She couldn't help but turn her face to look.

Her mouth dropped open slightly as she caught her first sight of him. He was extremely handsome, at least six feet tall, with short dark hair, dark brown fiery eyes and a strong chin with a good day's stubble on it. He was dressed in jeans, a dark tee shirt, boots and an old black leather jacket.

She turned to face ahead nervously, still in fear but morbidly curious of her handsome assailant and his motives. It was only now, as she sat in the car, that she became aware of herself thinking, hHell, what does this guy want? Money? The car? Something else? I can't get out of the car now, I must keep cool. Just do as he says, he seems calm enough.

"Now," said the voice slowly, handing her the car keys, "start the engine and drive slowly out of here. Turn south onto the interstate, keep quiet and keep driving until I tell you otherwise, understand?"

Joanne nodded slowly again. Her mind was turning cartwheels as she struggled to get a grip of this unreal situation.

She started the car and drove slowly onto the highway as ordered. Then she turned south as told, and picked up a moderate speed, while questions began queuing for answers in her head.

For a few moments, she remained silent but fear drove her to break it. She turned momentarily to speak to the man next to her, feeling a mixture of fear and confusion. She was aware of a heavy, metallic taste in her mouth as she spoke, and realised unpleasantly, that this was what fear tasted like.

"Where..." she began, tripping over the word as she nervously paused for breath. "Where are we going?"

The man smiled briefly but said nothing as he reached for her bag and began to rummage through it with his left hand.

"Please," said Joanne plaintively, "what do you want? Is it the car? Why don't you just drop me off here and you can take the car. And my money and credit cards. I don't want any trouble."

"Yeah, I kinda need your car, I guess," he answered without looking up.

"OK then, you can have it. Just let me out here, I can walk back."

The man shook his head with a smile.

"No lady, I'm afraid I ain't gonna do that."

"OK," replied Joanne calmly, "you can have the car, but you don't need me to be here, do you?"

"Well, I kinda like you lady, so you ain't going nowhere."

The words hit her broadside. Joanne suddenly realised that she was completely powerless.

", I really would like to get back to work," she said weakly.

"Yeah, I guess you would. You like your work, don't you...Joanne?"

Her heart dropped from her chest and bounced off the car floor.

"How do you know my name?" she asked turning to him.

"It's here, on your driver's licence," he said, waving it in his hand.

She felt a little relief, at least for a moment.

"But I already knew your name. Joanne Kendal. Of Spearman Brown Associates, isn't it?"

She nearly crashed the car and he had to reach across and steady the steering wheel for a moment.

"Jesus," she blurted out, "what is all this about, mister?"

He laughed as he pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it up.

"Yeah, you sure do like your work, Joanne."

She felt panic rising in her throat. He knew who she was and what she did. This did not sound at all good. This was very, very bad.

"Look," she began almost pleading, "I don't know what all this is about. But tell me what you want and I can get it for you. Is it money?"

The man nodded his head slowly.

"Yeah, I reckon you might be worth a little money, for sure."

"But...I...this must be a mistake."

"Uh oh. No mistake, Joanne."

"Listen, mister," she blurted out, "I don't know what you are talking about? Let's go to the police now and finish this before someone gets into trouble."

The man leaned forward and grabbed the back of her hair. He yanked it hard to force her to look straight ahead. His voice dropped several octaves.

"Listen carefully, Joanne. This is not a game, and there is no one to help you now. Now you better be a good girl for me and do exactly as you are told. Do you understand me?"

He relaxed his grip a little and she swallowed hard, remaining with her gaze fixed on the road ahead.

"OK, mister, OK. I'm sorry. I understand."

She stared ahead nervously, painfully aware of the gravity of his words. She was alone, and there was absolutely no one to help her.

"Um...are you kidnapping me?" she began, swallowing hard again. The question sounded a bit silly and the sound of her own voice echoed in her head.

The man smiled. Out of the corner of her eye, she was aware of how handsome he looked as he stared straight ahead. She shivered unconsciously.

"Yeah, I am." he nodded.

His smile, his directness, his unconcerned tone, they all felt strangely disconnected from all this and she could feel butterflies in her tummy.


"That's not your concern right now, sweetheart. You just keep driving," he replied nonchalantly.

A lonely coldness swept across her as he spoke and the reality of her situation suddenly fell into stark focus. After a moment, she asked in a hoarse whisper, "Are you going to hurt me?"

He smiled again. "I don't generally go around hurting ladies as a rule," he replied, "so as long as you do exactly as you are told, we are gonna get along just fine."

The relief was palpable. It enveloped her like a warm blanket after the cold night. His tone was still firm but his smile had a warmness about it that felt reassuring.

"I understand," she nodded vigorously, more in relief than anything else.

He said nothing and continued to stare ahead as they drove along in silence for a few moments.

"So...what are you going to do with me?" she began at last.

He shifted in the seat to make himself more comfortable. "Well, you are gonna be spending a little time away from your work, Joanne. And at this moment in time, that's all you need to know."

She swallowed hard again. She didn't know whether to cry because she'd been abducted, or to be happy because he'd given her a little reassurance. She decided that the man next to her obviously had some heart, and she felt a little encouraged by that. But she knew that his words were not empty. She felt almost drunk, surreal, as if she was watching herself in a movie.

"Um...can we..."

He cut her off. "That's enough talking for now. There's a junction up ahead. Take the left turn and follow the road. It's time to shut up now, Joanne, OK"?

She nodded and did as he said. Maybe she needed time to think too. He was rummaging through her bag again. God knows what he would do with it.

She began to think clearly for the first time in the last fifteen minutes. This had clearly been planned, and he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew who she was, what she did. But what was he going to do with her? Where was he taking her? Now they were clear off the interstate and the road began to get a little narrower, the countryside was more rural and quieter. There was nobody else around. Yet despite her fright at his words, she allowed herself to think about the unthinkable for the first time. She was pretty sure he didn't mean to hurt her. That was one thing. Maybe he would get careless and she would get the chance to get away? But almost before she'd had the thought his words rang in her head again. "This is not a game." And she realised that anything stupid like that was out of the question. In reality, perhaps her only way out of this was to negotiate, talk her way out of it. After all, that's what she did. And she was good at it. Maybe he was big, but was he clever? Her confidence was starting to come back, just a little.

"OK," he said at last, "take the right turn here, down this track."

She saw the track converge from the road to her right and nervously but carefully swung the car down it. It was rutted, covered by deep puddles and overhung by large trees. After about 400 yards, they came into a wide clearing on which stood a large, fairly old, black Chrysler station wagon.

"Pull up next to it," he said quietly.

"OK," Joanne replied, trying to break the tension. "Listen, what do I call you? You know my name. What's yours?"

He grinned, a kind of impish grin that made her feel a little warmer about him. Hey, he could probably be quite a regular guy if he wanted to be.

"Naw, Joanne. I'm not gonna tell you that, am I? But you can call me Jack, how 'bout that?"

She nodded as the car came to a halt next to the station wagon.

"OK Jack. That's fine by me. What now?" she asked, trying not to sound as nervous as she was. Hell, this didn't look good. A quiet clearing, no one around. She shivered inwardly.

"Well," drawled Jack, "we better change cars here. We don't want any unwelcome attention from the law now, do we, huh?"

Joanne began to feel hot under her blouse, and the feeling of helplessness began to descend once again. She realised that once they had changed cars they were completely anonymous, and even the remotest chance of rescue would be gone.

"Um..." she began dejectedly, her voice trailing away as the meaning sank in.

Jack smiled.

"You just do as you're told, Joanne," he began, "and you'll be fine."

She felt tears welling up in her eyes.

"Look...please, let me go...I'll keep quiet... We can just forget this whole thing..." she whispered, almost on the verge of tears.

"No, sweetheart, we aren't forgetting anything," he replied, shaking his head slowly.


"Shut the fuck up, Joanne. Now, we are getting out of this car and into that one. Understand?"

She nodded, biting her lip softly in a bid to hold back her tears.

He opened the door and climbed out, then walked around to her side of the car. He opened her door and motioned for her to get out. She slowly swung herself out of the car and stood up. As they stood facing each other she realised how big he was for the first time. He was well over six feet, and under his jacket she could imagine his broad shoulders and long muscular arms. She felt so small and powerless next to him. She looked away as she felt his eyes burning into her.

"By the time they find your car, I'm afraid we'll be long gone," he said, simply.

The words only underlined her feelings, but it made no difference. She knew that once her car was left behind, all chance of tracing her virtually disappeared.

"We've got a long way to go..." he continued, purposefully.

Joanne nodded nervously. There was a long pause and she had a feeling of inevitability that wasn't disguised by the long moments of silence that accompanied it. She stood there, unable to move even if she'd wanted to.

"Um...OK," she replied, unable to find a meaningful reply.

"OK. We better have you tied up now, sweetheart," he said at last, almost matter of factly.

She wanted to be surprised, to believe that she had misheard him. But she knew she hadn't. It seemed almost unreal, that all along she had known what part she had to play in all this and what had to happen next, as if there was a script for events like this. Even though it was unnecessary, it hadn't stopped her knowing it was his option to tie her up if he wanted to. For a moment she realised that she had seen it so many times in films and on television that it was automatic, and the surprise was not that he was going to tie her up, but that subconsciously she expected him to.

"Jack...please," she murmured helplessly.

"Please nothing, Joanne," he replied quietly as he opened the rear door of the car.

He leaned in, and after a few moments his hand emerged with a length of soft rope, slamming the door closed as he did. She watched helplessly as he slowly reached for her, taking her arm and pulling her gently to turn her back to him, her eyes closing as she felt her wrists being pulled behind her back. She stood trembling and fought to hold back her tears as he began to methodically tie her wrists tightly behind her back. There was absolutely nothing she could do but choke back her sobs at the sharp stabs of pain as he cinched the rope tighter around her slender wrists. She knew that this was no game, and no play acting. Not only did she have no idea where she was being taken, but now her hands were bound tightly behind her back too. She had barely even protested. After a few more minutes, he finished with a final hard pull that solicited a hopeless moan from Joanne that rung in her own ears. He took her shoulders and turned her to face him again.

"OK, let's get this straight. We got a long way to go. You do as you are told and everything will be just fine. Is that clear?"

She nodded quickly, all her confidence had gone completely and the feeling of helplessness totally enveloped her.

"I understand..." she whispered, choking back a sob.

The emotional lump in her throat began to diminish a little but she was still shaking like a leaf. She could feel the rope binding her wrists biting at her flesh, and she had to keep her hands still to make it tolerable. She knew there was absolutely no way she could get free and quickly decided to spare herself the pain and not even try. She relaxed her hands as much as she could.

He took her arm silently and helped her into the Chrysler's passenger seat. In a strange gesture that could have been gentlemanly, he removed the automatic pistol from his jacket and placed the jacket over her shoulders. Then he closed the door leaving her to stare at her own abandoned vehicle. As she watched him walk towards her car, she knew there was now no hope of escape. Yet despite her situation, despite feeling nervous and a little afraid, there was something about him that reassured her. She knew she was his prisoner, but somehow she didn't feel in danger. For a moment that thought caused a surge of excitement and she had to make an effort to chase it away. She shook her head and tried to pull herself together. She tried to tell herself she had to use her skills, to use her head, to talk her way out of this, but the fact she had been kidnaped didn't seem to be registering in her head. She suddenly realised that she felt oddly sympathetic to him, as much as sorry for herself. The rush of different emotions colliding in her head was so confusing, and it all seemed so strangely unreal.

Joanne watched as he took her overnight bag from the back seat of her car, let off the handbrake then stepped back to let her car roll forward into the undergrowth and disappear from sight, down the bank in front of her. The car rolling away over the bank belonged to Spearman Brown, and was strangely symbolic of her current situation. She turned away from the sight. The smell of the leather jacket, his scent, caused her to drop her chin into the material and breathe in. Without apparent emotion, she understood that the jacket around her shoulders would prevent anyone who came too close from seeing her predicament. She sighed as he approached the car and climbed into the driver's seat. He took off his gloves then started the engine, throwing the car into reverse. It was a big engine and its exhaust note was harsh as the car made its way slowly down the track then turned back onto the highway heading south.



They drove in silence for some time before Joanne spoke. "Am I at least allowed to speak?" she asked, summoning up her confident voice. She heard her own voice again and now it sounded a little sarcastic.

"I like that," he replied with a trace of a smile, "a girl who has to ask permission to speak."

Her face flushed red and she felt a jolt of excitement surge through her.

"Are you serious?" she replied, disbelievingly.

He turned to her briefly, smiled, and then turned to face ahead again.

She sat for a moment in astonishment, the surge of bittersweet arousal between her legs not diminished in the slightest by the thought that he'd not been completely joking.

"Um..." she began in embarrassment, "...well can I speak then?"

He nodded but said nothing.

"Look...can't you just tell me why you have kidnapped me at least?"

There was a long silence filled only by the car's engine as they rode along.

"Spearman Brown are gonna have to pay out. That's all you need to know right now."

For a moment she was not sure whether she felt relief or confusion. Relief because now money had been mentioned; at least there was a motive. Confusion, because she was unsure how being kidnapped for ransom was likely to be a walk in the park. The two emotions revolved around each other in her head.

"Um...I don't understand."

"You don't have to," he replied.

Again there was a long silence and she was unsure whether she should follow up.

" want Spearman Brown to pay a ransom?"

He nodded. "I guess you can call it that."

Another long moment of silence followed as she thought about the implications.

"And...if they don't?" she asked, in almost a whisper.

"That won't happen, Joanne," he replied, almost reassuringly.

This time she remained quiet for some time, almost too scared to pursue the line of conversation while she had what felt like reassurance from him. At last she took a deep breath.

"I see... How can you be so sure?"

He continued to stare ahead as he drove. "Big companies don't like bad publicity, Joanne. They'll hedge, they'll delay, they'll get a negotiator in, but they'll pay."

She nodded slowly, the idea of trusting him becoming more and more preferable to the alternative with each moment that passed.

"So...I guess you've done this before then?"

"I've done lots of things you might not approve of, Joanne."

"Listen, don't take this the wrong way, Jack...but kidnapping's hardly the sort of thing to inspire confidence on your resume, is it?"

Jack paused before he spoke. "Joanne, there are some fundamental differences between you and me. You were probably born in a nice part of a nice town with nice parents. You probably went to a nice school and then to a hot university. You got all the straight breaks and all the opportunity in the world. You don't know nothing about me."

She began to contemplate what he had said briefly, but it was too much to start examining his meaning in detail there and then.

"I see," she replied, "so this is like a job to you, huh?"

He didn't speak again for a moment, and then he smiled. "Like I said, that's all you need to know right now."

It was definitely time to be silent now as she began to contemplate something else that was beginning to bother her. He had said that Spearman Brown would pay. Which meant he'd let her go. Yet, he'd made no attempt to disguise himself, no attempt to stop her from seeing his face. Which meant she'd be able to identify him. The thought that he showed no concern for this lingered in her mind, revolving around his assurance that she'd not be harmed. It was, at least for the moment, an element she thought it best to avoid.

They drove on in silence for a long while. The road remained very rural as they moved toward the Blue Ridge Mountains. There were few cars and fewer people. Here and there they passed isolated settlements but no major towns as he took diversions to avoid them. Joanne settled her head on her right shoulder and watched the country passing by at a steady 60mph. The blue sky rolled on over a beautiful land which she had barely been aware of previously. The mountain peaks in the background rolled like a film behind the trees in the foreground. The whole thing was beginning to take on the sepia tinted edge of a road movie. Strange though it was, and despite her conflicting feelings, she had started to feel less frightened now. There was definitely something more to him than he was letting on. And god, he was so damned handsome. She sighed quietly. She knew she ought to be more afraid than she was, but in reality she simply couldn't suppress her feeling of excitement. She lowered her chin, the leather of his jacket exuding a powerful aroma that she could not escape. She passed an occasional glance at him but he kept focused straight ahead. So she laid her head on her shoulder and watched the scenery again, trying to come to terms with what was happening to her.

She sighed again. Her wrists were bound very tightly and securely, but the sensation of having her hands tied behind her back felt oddly satisfying. She realised, subconsciously again, that she didn't expect or want it to be a choice. She was playing her automatic role in this, because she didn't have the strength or will to do otherwise. It was almost as if inside her head, she was an accomplice in her own kidnap. The thought was a confusing but deeply attractive one. And, even more candidly, she couldn't hide from the fact that she was becoming very aroused, riding along like this in the warm car, the scent of the leather, the low growl of the engine. She could feel that she was getting wet, and the dull ache in her loins jostled constantly for attention in her mind. She tried to focus on the trees again, but she knew that her subconscious mind wasn't registering a problem with this situation. Dozens of half remembered movies where the girl gets kidnapped rolled around in her mind. The thought brought a surge of excitement and she suddenly felt oddly content wrapped up in his jacket.

She struggled free of these thoughts with great difficulty. Unless by some freak chance the car were stopped by the police, escape was now impossible. Where he was taking her or for how long, she didn't know. But she had to hope that when they got there and his attention wasn't focused on driving, she would be able to talk to him. Then hopefully she'd feel like an adult again, instead of playing this role of a helpless girl who didn't have to be consulted about anything. Slowly, her confidence was coming back. She could never confront him, but she had to assert herself. When they got where they were going, she decided, she would make the opportunity to negotiate her way out of this. She had to accept that she had been kidnapped, but she was sure that eventually he would see sense. As long as she could come to terms with that, the easier she would be able to deal with it. The problem was that the more she was able to accept it, the more exciting it was becoming in her mind.

She started to examine herself more closely. At first, it was hard to think outside this situation, but the more she thought about it, the more she was forced to concede what he had said was fair comment. Yes, she had had a fairly privileged background. She did go to a top school and a top university. Her family were well off and she realised, somewhat guiltily, that she had never really wanted for anything. She had a good job and she earned good money. Except that now, here in this car, all that had been taken away. And the paradox was that it felt more exciting than it ever should have. She was frightened by that thought and quickly tried to push it away, but it remained at the back of her mind. Visions of childhood games where she was always the beautiful princess captured by the wicked dragon swam eerily across her thoughts.

She looked at the clock on the dashboard. It said 11:09am. They'd been driving for over two hours now and her behind was becoming a little numb from sitting in the same position for so long. She sat up a little and placed her feet together, pushing herself more upright in the seat. This attracted his attention and he looked across at her, his eyes falling to her legs, her close fitting skirt now pulled tighter by the way she was sitting. Nervously she followed his gaze, down her long legs, below the hem of her skirt, his attention inevitably drawn to her feet. Her skin looked so soft and feminine and her face reddened self-consciously at the glimpse of the sweet arch of her foot, just visible inside the leather upper of her right shoe. His attention made her feel so vulnerable and she shifted her weight again, pulling her feet out of his view back in toward the seat, trying to think of other things and desperate to divert her mind on to some other thought.

In order to escape his attention and almost by default, her mind came back to work. As if for some reason thinking about her job returned her to her safe little office world. But here in this car all that had gone, and with it came that growing feeling of helplessness again. She went round in this circle for several minutes before she managed to calm herself down again. Then at last she began to wonder how this would be received at S&B. That she had been kidnapped! That they had to pay a ransom! If that was in fact what this was all about. But the more she went round in a circle, the more confusing it became until she ended up staring out of the window at the passing countryside again. No matter how hard she tried to find something else to divert her thoughts to, her helplessness, his attention, her awareness of her femininity, his good looks, all niggled in her mind. Abjectly she continued to watch the trees and hedgerows roll past for twenty minutes, at least until the pins & needles in her hands gave her something else to concentrate on for a few moments.

She knew she had to at least move the weight off her arms, but without drawing any attention to herself this time. With difficulty, she shifted her weight to try and get more comfortable, which was not easy with her hands tied behind her back. She swung her shoulders toward Jack and brought her knees up carefully onto the seat. As she did so, her eyes widened as her skirt rode up five or six inches above her knees, exposing her legs to around mid-thigh. She cursed herself inwardly, and began fidgeting, trying to use the cohesion of the material on the car seat to pull her skirt back down. Eventually, this caught Jacks attention.

He slowed down, pulled the car over onto the dusty verge and stopped. For a moment they sat looking at each other in silence, save for the low, uneven throb of the big engine ticking over at idle. She watched, even more nervously now as his eyes fell slowly down her exposed legs and came to rest on her feet once more. She looked down too, now very self-conscious, aware of his wicked smile, the look on his face both scaring and captivating her at the same time.

"Um...what's wrong, Jack...?" she asked, weakly, as it dawned on her that he hadn't pulled the car over to look at the scenery.

He smiled. "I think we'll have your shoes off too, sweetheart." he said quietly.

She felt her face flush again and she suddenly felt very hot around her neck, instantly realising how much more vulnerable being barefoot was going to make her feel. An alarm was ringing in her head. This wasn't necessary, she couldn't go anywhere.

"But...Jack...please?" she stammered in bewilderment, the feeling of utter helplessness washing over her once more.

He smiled again. "Sorry, ain't having no shoes on."

She suddenly realised that he wanted her feeling helpless and vulnerable. This was about choice, and she wasn't having one. He was in control, and she was going to be barefoot whether she liked it or not.

"Jack...please," she pleaded, watching helplessly as he reached casually forward with both hands and gently grasped her ankles. She instinctively tried to pull her feet back, but with her hands bound behind her back, she had nothing to balance herself with, and in any case, he was far stronger than her. He grasped her ankles more tightly and pulled them from under her, pulling her feet into his lap and causing her back to fall against the passenger door.

"Jack...why?" she murmured, hopelessly.

He ran his fingers from her ankles up the back of her legs, into the soft crevice behind her knee, then down the back of her calf to the top of her right shoe. She took a sharp intake of breath at the silky, almost imperceptible sensation of his fingers as they briefly paused again at her ankles, then down, following the shape of the leather upper, allowing his fingers to cup lightly around the beautiful curving heel of her shoe.

She let her head drop back against the door as his grip tightened around her heel. She felt her shoe slip slowly off, then the brief warmth of his hand brush the arch of her foot, sending a tremor up her spine as her shoe dropped to the floor in front of his seat. They sat for a moment, her sitting with her feet in his lap, one shoe off, looking into his dark eyes. He slowly pulled off her other shoe, more deliberately and firmly this time, and let it fall to the floor. She squeezed her toes together self-consciously at the feeling of being barefoot, knowing she was more pleasing for him this way. There was nothing she could do about it, and it jostled for attention in her mind with the endless ache in the pit of her stomach, feeding the tension inside her. She watched as he reached into the back seat and pulled out another length of rope, and with a sinking feeling she realised that she was having her feet bound too.

"Jack please," she begged, "you don't need to do this...I can't go anywhere?"

He took no notice and began to tie her ankles tightly, looping the rope around and cinching it between her feet, knotting it off very securely. She offered no resistance, her eyes remained closed and her mouth was dry. Once he had finished, her feet remained in his lap, tightly bound, and with her toes she could feel he had an erection. She tried desperately to choke back a sob as his hand ran slowly up her beautiful legs, his fingertips giving only the lightest of touches in the sweet valley beneath the hem of her skirt. She took a sharp intake of breath as the hand remained still, its warmth tantalising against her soft skin. She moaned almost imperceptibly and softly bit her lower lip. Her panties were sopping wet and tears brimmed in her tightly closed eyes.

"Please..." she murmured, her voice almost a whisper.

She felt his hand slowly ride up under the hem of her skirt briefly, then move away. Then she felt him lift her ankles to allow her to sit back upright in the seat, and a moment later, he replaced his jacket around her shoulders, her face sinking gratefully into the leather.

It was a full half minute before she could open her eyes, as tears rolled silently down her cheeks.

He turned to look at her, the wicked smile hiding somewhere in the background, but still there.

"It's gonna be a long weekend, Joanne," he said, simply.

His voice was deep with a rough edge. All she could do was nod her head weakly. She watched as he kicked her shoes under his seat, deliberately out of her sight. That felt even more final and sent a tremor up her spine. He took the gear selector and pushed it into drive, and then the car moved slowly off.

Joanne closed her eyes again and fought desperately not to burst into tears. Her body was beginning to ache for relief from the tensions building up inside her. She had to concentrate on nothing but her breathing for a minute or two until she felt even a little calmer. She suddenly felt very tired. She turned herself to face the window again, pulling her knees up onto the seat, her tightly bound feet under her behind, and closed her eyes. She lay there in the seat, tied up, barefoot and sobbing. The face of Sam Baxter leered momentarily in her mind and she had to fight off a moment of panic. It felt like all her defences were being slowly and deliberately removed, one at a time. It felt frightening, confusing, exciting and delicious all at the same time. Now it all became too much for her. All kinds of emotions were fighting for room in her head. Outside the car, images of trees and distant barns were overlaid with occasional flashbacks, the faces of childhood boyfriends she had longed would turn out to be dragons, her mother's voice shouting her in for lunch, the agony of schoolyard crushes on unattainable teachers. For a few minutes she was aware of drifting in and out of consciousness. Then she was asleep. A tense, aroused, salacious sleep.


To Be Continued...




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