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M. on a weeknight. A perfect place, in other words, for a sissy to meet a married man for a quickie fuck—a perfect trap, as well, Erin conceded ruefully just before losing consciousness. She remembered nothing between that moment and the moment she woke in the cramped confines of the trunk. A dream? That was the most desperate kind of wishful thinking. Less desperate, but still wishful, was the hope that it was over, that he’d raped and beaten her, left her somewhere or other. Odd how she could have come to such a pass that she’d consider herself lucky if that is ?all? that had happened to her, but she’d give anything if it were only true. She’d make her way home somehow, clean herself up, no need to involve the police: she would consider it all a hard lesson learned. She’d give up taking chances; she bargained with the God she didn’t really believe in; she promised herself.Slowly, though, she became aware of the smell of gasoline and oil, the rough, short-fibered carpet under her. I turned on the water and closing the door went to lock it. No lock! Shit! Well I guess a guy on his own didn’t need a lock on his bathroom.Feeling the water was a good temperature I quickly unchanged and stepped into the tub, drawing the curtain behind me.I enjoyed the sensation of the hot water coursing over my skin and felt all my worries disappear as I soaped myself up and then rinsed. Turning the water off I stepped out of the tub and went to grab my towel. It wasn’t there! I looked around the bathroom, my clothes were gone too! I frantically looked around the bathroom. Everything was gone!What? I was sure I’d left them right here on the floor. What was going on?I had to get back to my bedroom. I opened the door a crack and peered out. I could hear uncle Bob preparing food in the kitchen and humming. I made a dash for it and made it my bedroom and closed the door and leant back against it, dripping wet, heart pounding. When I looked around my room I gasped in shock.Chapter 4 My.
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