Exactly a week had passed since I first met Gina. After losing a bet in a poker game, I had wandered into the homeless encampment on a dare to buy some weed. Gina, a resident of the tent city encampment, had identified me as an easy mark and lured me into her tent, intending to hold me hostage and make some fast cash. When she had tricked me into closing my eyes long enough to snap handcuffs on my wrists, we both had been surprised to find we were inexplicably turned on by the perverse intimacy of our impromptu power exchange. The hour that had followed found me tied up and stripped naked on the floor of her tent, forced to orgasm in her hands, my mouth used profanely for her pleasure. Though she had drained my wallet as penance for my helpless sins before sending me on my bewildered way, she had told me she expected to see me again, as if our brief interaction had been merely a vanilla first date.

Thus I found myself, heart racing, nervously striding back into the tent city a week later, still wondering if I had imagined the whole thing. Would she still be there? Now knowing what might happen, would I discover the same ecstasy I had experienced before? Was I in any less danger than I had been the week previous? I had to figure out though. It was an itch that refused to go unscratched.

I didn’t immediately recall where exactly I had first seen Gina in our previous encounter, and as I walked I began to worry that either I wouldn’t be able to discover her, or she would be gone, having moved on to the next neighborhood or city with no more wondered for me than any other clueless middle-aged guy she might come across.

Then I saw her, as my long strides took me down the riverwalk, sitting at a picnic table watching me, eerily similar to how our last encounter had ended. How long had she been watching me? I altered my course to approach where she was sitting, and she gave me that same familiar wry smile. “I’ve been waiting for you a whole week, what the fuck is wrong with you?” She said, standing up.

I stopped a few feet from her and began to splutter out a reply, but she talked over me, making obvious the rhetorical nature of her question. “Well you can’t just show up here willy-nilly expecting to pick up where we left off, like I’m just sitting here all day waiting for Kenny to come back.” Her words tore through me, first eliciting despair over her apparent rejection my return, then glimmer of joy that she remembered my name, and finally relief with the realization that her tone belied at least some amount of irony.

“Go away,” she said dismissively, and my heart sank. She paused, looking into my eyes with with that soul-stealing gaze she had used so effectively to disarm me just a week ago. Then she continued slowly and deliberately, “and come back in an hour with everything you brought last time.”

Elation filled me as my brain, slowed by the whiplash of adrenaline and relief, parsed her words. I wondered I knew exactly what she meant by “everything you brought last time” referring to the thick wad of cash I had stuffed in my wallet, but maybe she also meant my quirky capacity to be dominated, and be aroused by it. I nodded, turning back and walking out of the tent city to kill an hour.

As I strolled aimlessly around the city streets surrounding the encampment, my mind rolled through theories of what she might be doing. It was not unreasonable for her to take some time to prepare for whatever might happen next. As I remembered how she had been a little grimy and raw smelling in our previous encounter, it occurred to me that she might be going somewhere to shower. I pictured Gina’s thin, muscular frame, tan skin and dirty-blond hair taking a cold shower, washing her strong arms and large round breasts. All of a sudden I was shoving my hands into my into my pockets to disguise a growing hard-on.

The minutes passed slowly, but I forced myself not to return a second earlier than I had been told. As I walked back into the encampment exactly an hour later, I felt slightly more at ease than I had earlier. Wondered it was still winter, the air was warmer today than it had been the week previous, and the slanted afternoon sunlight gave an air of tranquility that seemed at odds with the languishing poverty and desolation of the tent city.

Once again I didn’t see Gina until I was in right front of her. How did she keep doing that? She had changed her outfit, perhaps confirming my theory that she had used the time to shower, though it wasn’t obvious. She was wearing the same type of athletic shirt she had worn the previous week, smooth white material with green accents, tight across her chest. Instead of the leggings she had been wearing the previous week, she had on pink athletic shorts that might have been for biking or running. With her tight pony tail and running shoes, her look was that of a woman on her way to the gym. Though warm for a winter afternoon, it was still too cold for the shorts and t-shirt she was wearing, and the smooth fabric of her tight shirt stretched across her chest was all perfect curves except for the two barely perceptible bumps in the middle each breast.

She smiled slightly and raised an amused eyebrow, saying “Got that bulge in your pants again Kenny, gotta be careful or someone’s going to take advantage of you!” She said this more loudly than seemed appropriate, and I became aware that several other people were milling about, easily within earshot. She all the time seemed to know exactly what to say, and how to say it, to simultaneously thrill and terrify me. I knew she was teasing me, as she had the previous week, not about my semi-hard cock but about my wallet, visible in the front pocket of my pants.

“Well, step into my office,” Gina said, just like she had as our encounter had taken its strange turn the previous week. She grabbed my arm with jovial familiarity, but just a little more force than was strictly needed, and guided me to the open entrance of her tent.

I bent my head down and stepped inside her tent, and just as I was about to stand as straight as the tent would allow, I felt her pulling my arm downward. The downward pressure on my arm grew as she maneuvered me inside the tent, and it didn’t take me long to realize she wanted me to kneel. Once I was on my knees, she whispered, “Good boy, Kenny” and turned to zip the tent door closed. With that done, she turned and stepped back toward me, standing tantalizingly close as she looked down at me. Taking in my surroundings, I noticed the same tidy stack of belongings against one wall of the tent, but this time there was no sleeping bag across the floor, just the green nylon of the tent floor.

With the tent door zipped closed, the two of us inside, I already began to feel as if I were captive, trapped in Gina’s world, so far from my own comfort zone. After a moment’s pause, she put her hands on the back of my head and pulled my face into her. On my knees in front of her, my lips and nose came up against the place on her abdomen where the bottom of her shirt overlapped the top of her shorts, accentuating the height difference between us. She took a long breath, holding my face firmly against her, finally saying “You came back for more, you sick little fuck. How pathetic is that?” A gentle laugh took some of the sting out of the insult, as if she were admonishing a playful pet. Then she mused, “I’ve had a week to think about what fun I could have with you. You’re in big trouble, Kenny.” I felt the satiny fabric of her shirt against my face, and the toned muscles underneath, and my cock, already hard from the immediate return to intimacy, strained against my pants.

Gina stepped away, walking around behind me, and pushing hard on my back so that I fell forward on to my stomach. She immediately dropped on me, straddling my butt. She grabbed my hands from my sides and pulled them behind my back. As she reached to her side to get what must have been a piece of rope, my fingers inadvertently came in contact with the warm crotch of her shorts. She reacted to this by pushing her weight down on me, trapping my fingers temporarily under her. I felt the rough rope go around my wrists, and she began a process of looping the rope around one wrist, then the other with a well-practiced agility, finally tying the rope off in first one knot, then one more. Her hands still on my bound wrists, she leaned over me so that her mouth was just behind my ear and breathed, “Got you.”

I felt the weight of her whole body against my back as her hands pushed roughly under me, groping around my crotch. She found my cock and rubbed it hard through my pants, taking benefit of the force of her body on top of mine. It felt intense and wonderful, so many sensations, from the weight of her laying on my back, her crotch against my bound hands, her hands fumbling around my cock. She wriggled her hands more under me, turning my hips slightly so that she had easier access to my front. I felt a hand go into my pocket, pulling my wallet out and tossing it apart. The same hand found the zipper on my pants, unzipping it swiftly, then pushing inside my pants to discover my cock again through my underwear. After more groping and pulling, she grabbed my cock firmly through the fly in my underwear, pulling it all the way out so that I felt the cool air on it. Her other hand found the back of my head, grabbing my hair and twisting my head to the side, pushing my cheek into the tent floor. I grunted in surprise, and the hand that had been on the back of my head slid around to my mouth, covering it with a cupped hand. “Quiet,” she whispered sharply into my ear, then she added, “I’ll have to gag you again.”

Our one-sided wrestling match paused, with Gina pulling her hand away from my mouth and rolling off to a kneeling position beside me, using her hands to roll me on to my side facing away from her. Resting her hands on my side from her kneeling position she looked down at me for a moment, finally saying “You’re quite the pretty picture here Kenny, with your hands tied and your dick sticking out. But too much clothing and not enough rope.”

Gina reached around in front of me and unbuttoned my pants, pulling them unceremoniously down my legs, and tossing them apart. My boxers quickly followed, then she went to work on my t-shirt, which she maneuvered up over my head, leaving it bunched around my tied wrists. She leaned back and grabbed a coil of rope, then reached and pulled my feet backward toward her, starting to wrap the rope around and in between my ankles. She was as quick with this as she had been with my hands, and in no time my ankles and wrists with both secured. Throwing apart my t-shirt, she tied one more length of rope between my ankle and wrist bindings, pulling hard before tying it off, bringing my feet as close to my hands as my long legs would allow.

Still laying on my side, my ankles joined to my wrists, I was effectively hogtied. Gina ran her hands up and down my body, lingering over the ropes as if to make sure they would stay in place. Reaching back into her pile of belongings again, she rooted around for a moment, ultimately holding a red bandana in front of my face. She rolled it into a long thin line, positioning the center of it over my lips.

“Open,” Gina said simply, and I opened my mouth allowing the strip of cloth between my lips, biting down on it. She pushed and pulled on it until she had it wrapped around to the back of my head, where she pulled it tight, and tied it in a knot. “This won’t keep you from making noise, but it will remind you that I control your mouth. While this gag is in, no talking from you. Understand?” I nodded quickly. “Maybe it’s time for me to invest in a ball gag,” she commented to herself, then back to me she said, “Would you like that, Kenny? A big red ball in that mouth?” She laughed softly, and one of her hands brushed over my face, pausing to push the bandana a little further in to my mouth.

“Well, what’s next?” Gina said rhetorically, then stood and scanned around the floor of the tent for a moment, eventually grabbing my wallet. I watched as she opened it, plucked out the cash I had placed in there specifically for my visit today, then tossed it back toward the side of the tent. Stashing the money away in her pile of belongings, she produced another item from her pile, and turned to stand in front of me. It was a black piece of cloth that looked like one of those eye masks you might buy in an airport, though it was quite worn and dirty looking. She knelt in front of me, holding the eye mask in one hand, casually rubbing my cock with the other.

“I have a friend that wants to see you,” Gina said with a mischievous smile. “but she doesn’t want you to see her.” She finished, holding up the eye mask. She leaned over me and put the eye mask across my eyes, pulling the elastic band around the back of my head. My mind raced with this new information. She was gonna let a stranger in the tent, in the middle of our strange little tryst? Of course, Gina was nearly a stranger herself, though I felt like we had at least a foundation of trust based on mutual self-interest.

“You see,” Gina continued, “my friend Diane didn’t believe me when I told her I kidnapped a guy, tied him up, and had my way with him – and he actually liked it! Diane said I was making shit up, so I told her if you ever came back, I’d invite her over. And here you are!”

With that Gina planted an unexpected slap on my naked ass, then said, “I know what you’re thinking, this probably scares the shit out of you. But I’m willing to bet there’s some part of that perverted little brain that’s also thrilled about my friend coming to see me humiliate you. And hey, maybe I’ll let her have a turn with you too!” She had started stroking my cock with some gusto as she said these words, and I had to admit that I was feeling pretty aroused in anticipation of this unexpected development. “Yeah, I thought so,” she said as my body involuntarily shuddered in response to her words and her continued ministrations on my cock.

I felt Gina rise to a standing position, and she said ominously, “I’ll be right back.” She unzipped the tent, stepping out, then zipped it closed again and I heard her footsteps move away outside the tent.

Alone in the tent, I took stock of my situation. I was tied up pretty securely, still laying on my side, feet pulled behind me by short rope connecting my ankles to my wrists. There was a little light coming through the edges of the eye mask, but not nearly enough for me to see my surroundings. I was still gagged, the cloth of the handkerchief growing wet in my mouth. As I contemplated the arrival of a new person in the tent, I was keenly aware of my nakedness, especially my cock sticking out, hard as a rock from the sexual tension of the situation, as well as the vigorous stimulation it had received moments ago. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. I had chosen to be here. It had been my choice to put my safety in the hands of a risky near-stranger, my choice to accept the risk in order to experience the thrill. And what a thrill it was.

Within a few moments, I heard footsteps again, and soft voices approaching. I heard the tent unzip, footsteps coming in, then the tent zipped closed again. Though I couldn’t see, I could sense the presence of two people who had entered the tent and now stood on either side of me. While before the tent had felt spacious for two people, it now felt crowded with three. I heard Gina’s voice first, saying “Well, believe me now? This is Kenny, my willing captive.”

Then after a beat, a different, lower female voice said, “Is he awake?” I realized I hadn’t moved a muscle since they had entered the tent. I felt a foot prod my hip, and assuming it was Gina’s, I lifted my head off the tent floor, wanting to see the newcomer, but seeing only faint light.

“Oh yes, he’s awake,” came Gina’s voice. “And look, he’s so happy we’re here,” she said in a drawl, and I felt her foot slide off my hip and down into my crotch, prodding my cock. I’m sure my face was beet red, laying exposed on the tent floor like this in front of a total stranger.

“Wow,” came the new voice, which must have been Diane’s. “And he’s really ok having this done to him? And me being here?”

“He came here on his own,” said Gina conversationally, “But now he doesn’t have any choice. And that’s fine with him, in fact he loves it. Right Kenny?” There was a moment’s pause as I wasn’t sure what to do. Gina had been pretty clear about me being quiet, and I still her her bandana tied in my mouth. “Right Kenny?!?” she repeated, louder, and emphasized her words with a poke to my balls with the toe of her shoe.

“Esss,” I said hoarsely into the gag. Gina and Diane both laughed. My humiliation complete, I rested my head back down on the tent floor.

“He’s kinda cute, all tied up like this.” Diane said slowly. “Look at that bubble butt.” Now that was embarrassing. Of all my attributes, I had never wondered of my butt as being anything special.

“Do you want to touch it?” Gina asked. I felt her foot withdraw from my crotch, where it had been prodding around not-so-gently.

“I kinda do,” Diane said tentatively, and I heard the wrinkling of clothing as she hunched down. After a pause, I felt the very light touch of fingers, first on my upturned hip, then slowly and lightly brushing down across one butt cheek, then across my crack, down to where my other cheek rested on the ground, then finally back up. Then the process repeated. Her touch was so light and tentative compared to Gina’s, and I felt goosebumps raise across my skin. “Look!” Diane exclaimed, noticing my goosebumps.

“Oh, he likes you.” Gina replied lecherously. A few more pregnant moments passed as Diane’s fingers started roaming further on my body, up my back, back across my side and stomach. Returning to my butt cheeks where she ran her fingernails over my skin gently. Where Gina’s touch had all the time been all-business, forceful and with purpose, Diane’s touch was light and tickling; exploratory and nervous. It was intoxicating, to have my body explored, part by part, with Diane’s gentle but hungry touch.

Diane’s hands lingered on my bound wrists, then again on my ankles. “Doesn’t this like cut off his circulation?” She asked.

“Not if you do it right,” responded Gina, “and I know how to do it just right. Diane wants to be a professional dominatrix maybe.” That opinion hung in the air for a few seconds before Gina continued, “What do you think Diane?”

“Love it,” Diane said quietly, her touch getting a little more bold, venturing near my cock but never quite touching it. Then back to my butt cheeks, which seemed to be home base for her explorations.

“Do you want to fuck him?” Gina asked, deadpan. “I know, that little dick is only good for him, but I made him tongue-fuck me last week, and he’s not bad.”

Another pause as both Diane and I absorbed Gina’s words, and I imagined Diane searched for her own. Finally, Diane said “No… I mean yeah, but no.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Gina laughed. “But ok, it’s all kinda weird. So, future domme, what do you want to do with him?”

“Well, I…” Diane’s voice trailed off. Her hands continued roaming around my body, and her motions seemed more comfortable and confident.

“Say it girl,” Gina prompted, “I’ll hazard a guess you’ll never be in this situation again.”

“I…” Diane started, and then faltered again. Finally, she blurted out, “I want to stick something in his ass.”

“Haa! You want to peg him. Fantastic.” Gina laughed heartily, a joyous and gleeful laugh. “You definitely can. I fingered him last time and he came like two seconds later, so I know he likes it. He’s got a tight little asshole, so we’ll have to be a little careful – can’t have him screaming out.” I squirmed a bit, not relishing the idea of the two of them shoving some random thing in my ass. It was true, the surprise of Gina’s finger in my ass a week ago as she had finished jacking me off had not been unpleasant.