Stolen! -12- Nap (Patreon)

I tried to remove my blindfold by rubbing my face against Moose’s shoulder, but that only caused him to murmur, “Stop that.”

I did.

“Relax,” he commanded, sounding sleepy. “I’m just going to nap for a half-hour, or so, then we’ll get something to eat.” He shifted a bit, his thigh lying across my hips, his arm on my chest with his fingers behind my back.

He was naked, and I was very aware of this.

My arms were still secured in Bonnie’s tapes, each elbow more or less in the palm of the other hand, wrists fastened to forearms just below the joint. Since I lay on my back, this should have been uncomfortable, but it didn’t seem to be so, the bed soft enough to cushion things.

The corset pinched me slightly and kept me from taking a really deep breath, but the discomfort from that also seemed to be fading. Moose lying half-across me felt—safe? I didn’t feel worried about Bonnie coming in to torment me, or Earl cutting my throat. Moose would keep them away.

And for some reason, I no longer felt afraid of him at all. Maybe a little fearful of his maleness, the evidence of which lay against my own thigh, softening now but still warm and firm. At first, it had felt like a length of wood, hard and giving heat as if someone had pulled it from a fire before it could burst into flame.

I moved my legs, feeling my own concealed maleness in my padded panty girdle. Bonnie had made me wear a gaff under the panty girdle and had readjusted things after she let me use the bathroom. Bonnie had pushed my testicles up inside me, and the gaff held my penis bent backwards between my legs.

I remembered what Moose and I had done in the back of the camper, the pressure of his leg on my groin, my almost involuntary movements against him. The release I had felt. I still wondered if that meant I was gay.

I squeezed my thighs together, shooting a bolt of pleasure from my groin into my brain. I squirmed a bit, adjusting my position. I realized that I was, in fact, trying to get my concealed sex against the meat of Moose’s thigh.

He breathed softly, rhythmically in my ear, drifting into sleep. I lay still, wanting something I couldn’t name—and didn’t dare admit I wanted.

After a time, his weight shifted slightly, and I pulled my right leg out from under his. Half turning onto my left hip, I swung my leg over his, straddling his thigh. Now I had pressure where I wanted it—needed it?

“Moose?” I whispered, but he didn’t stir. Moving slowly—hardly moving at all, in fact—I pulled myself into a more awkward position to stroke the buried shaft of my penis against his muscled thigh. The sensation almost made me cry out, and I lay still for a bit longer. I wanted, I needed, to get that sensation to the tip, but the geometry just wasn’t there to make it happen.

Thinking of it as a geometry problem made me want to giggle, but my body seemed to have a mind of its own. I wasn’t thinking at all as I wriggled in small movements closer and more firmly against his very male body. His cock on my thigh began to get firmer, hotter. I rocked in place so slowly I was barely moving at all.

It took some time and would have gone much quicker if the angles had been right. Then when I did come, the intensity shut off all thinking and seemed to last for hours, drowning me in dark pleasure. When it subsided, I rolled my face toward Moose and kissed whatever part of him my mouth could reach before I fell asleep.

It didn’t seem gay, it just seemed the right thing to do, and I didn’t worry about it at all.

* * *

I dreamed of swimming through light above landscapes of mountains and seas and meadows. I could swim down to the animals and get as close as I wanted, but they never noticed me.

I didn’t think the dreams were odd. They seemed normal at the time. As if I had always been able to fly and turn invisible.

I woke up to Moose caressing me, and this seemed ordinary and unremarkable, too. My eyes were uncovered, and I could see his big face hovering over mine.

“You’re awake,” he remarked.

I nodded, smiling. Why was I smiling? I decided that I felt good, and I was glad to see Moose. His hands roamed over my body, lingering here and there, finding a knot of tension and smoothing it out, or a ticklish spot that made me squirm.

He smiled back at me. “You’re a bit goofy, aren’t you?”

“I guess so?” I said, not sure what he meant.

“Rollover,” he said, helping me do so. “I want to untie you.”

“Okay,” I agreed. It took only a moment for him to pull the velcro tabs loose. I got my arms back in front of me and rubbed them vigorously. They were slightly numb from me lying on them. I put my hands up and wiggled my fingers so Moose could see. “Lookit!” I said.

He laughed. I heard myself giggle.

I put my hands against his chest and pushed, but he barely moved. He grabbed my forearms and laughed again. “Go get undressed and take a bath,” he told me.

“Okay,” I agreed again. I scampered off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

“I’m going to go talk to Earl and Bonnie about something,” Moose said as he threw the velcro harness onto the dresser. “I’ll be back in a bit, and we can get some dinner. Hm?”

I nodded, already pulling off the clothes Bonnie had dressed me in, on the way to the bathroom. “I haven’t had anything to eat,” I commented, wondering a bit that I actually did not feel that hungry.

I got to the bathroom door and stopped. How would I get the corset Bonnie had put me in off? It laced up the back. I turned to ask Moose if he could help me, but he’d already gone into the hall and closed the door.

I shrugged. I could bathe everywhere the corset didn’t cover if I couldn’t get it off. I did get everything else off—panties, gaff, padded bra, but even looking at how the corset worked in the mirror didn’t help me figure out how to remove it. I couldn’t find an end to the laces to start untying them.

Maybe it was more velcro magic, I wondered. After I had removed panty and gaff, I discovered the butt-plug. How had I forgotten that? If I thought about it, it was simply a mild stretching sensation, no sort of pain at all. I wasn’t sure how to remove it or if I should. Moose had told me to get undressed but hadn’t mentioned accessories.

I didn’t worry about those things, though. Such thoughts didn’t leave much of a track on my mind. I took a sponge bath, hot soapy water first, then clear cool water. I avoided getting the corset wet and just cleaned myself around the butt plug—what a strange thing to have inside me.

I wanted to be clean because Moose had told me to take a bath. It seemed important that I should try to please him. What would it be like to have Moose inside me? Would he like that? Would I? Had the plug stretched me enough that I could do that?

“I’m supposed to be his girl,” I murmured. I heard myself giggle and wondered at that again. I seemed to be in a good mood: relaxed, loose and a bit silly. Had Bonnie been slipping me some sort of drugs? It certainly seemed likely.

Once I’d had that thought, I tried to pursue it, but the idea turned slippery and escaped. Couldn’t I just feel good without a reason?

I dried myself off carefully with a towel. Moose had said nothing about getting dressed or following him, so I sat cross-legged on the bed to wait. I didn’t feel sleepy, so I didn’t lie down.

I sat there for some time, content to wait. I felt certain now that I had been drugged, but it wasn’t a frightening or disturbing thought. It might have been the last thought I had for some time, but eventually, I realized that Bonnie had entered the room and had been telling me what to do while she dressed me again.

A new, larger butt plug and a new, tighter corset went on first. Then she brought out some new panties that seemed almost alive.