Peter Vanishes

Every day after work, Peter got on the same train and sat in the same seat. It was a boring journey home, taking him out of the city, through the suburbs, and eventually out to the small village he had lived in for the last ten years. But he always looked forward to the train home, because every night, without fail, in the seat opposite him sat the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

 

He’d first noticed her a few months ago, and since then she had become something of an obsession of his. It had got to the point where he waited impatiently for the day to end, just so he could get on that commuter train and see her. He found himself daydreaming about her all the time – but he was too nervous to say anything.

 

He had learned that the girl’s name was Heather, by overhearing her saying goodbye to a friend on the platform. She was quite a bit younger than him, in her early 20s he guessed. She was gorgeous: a pretty, girl-next-door face, beestung lips and big blue eyes framed by a stylish blonde bob. She had an amazing figure, slender but not skinny, and perfect pert breasts. And the clothes she wore drove him wild: tiny little miniskirts twinned with fitted shirts and jackets, and she often wore high heels. She looked like a high-powered exec in the body of a teenager. He thought about her as he masturbated every night.

 

In his fantasies he engineered situations where he could talk to her. His stop was the penultimate one on the train’s route, and often they were the only two people left in the carriage when he got off, so he knew that she must get off at the last stop. He fantasized about sweeping her off her feet with his wit and charm. But the truth was, he was not very witty, and not very charming. He was in his early 30s and divorced. His wife had left him two years ago for another man, and he had not had sex for over a year. Deep down he knew that the idea of a stunning young woman finding him attractive was crazy.

 

Although, recently her behaviour had given him reason to keep the fantasy alive. She was a friendly girl, always smiling to people, but he was sure that she always seemed especially pleased to see him. They recognized each other of course, and now whenever they sat down she beamed at him. He also thought she seemed to steal glances at him – often he’d look up from his book and catch her staring at him, looking away quickly. Once he’d even thought he’d seen her lick her lips.

 

And then there was the time, when they were the only two people left in the carriage, when he’d sat opposite her and she’d opened her legs, and she’d been wearing no panties. He almost fainted right there. That time, she seemed to enjoy how flustered he’d become. He blushed furiously and didn’t know where to look. When he got up to leave the train, he felt her eyes on him and heard her giggle.

 

The more she teased him – and there was no other word for it, she was definitely a tease – the more she obsessed him. He planned whole evenings around fantasizing about her, wanking himself off again and again. He toyed with the idea of taking surreptitious mobile phone photos of her, but was too scared of being caught. ‘She’d probably enjoy it, the slut,’ his inner alpha male muttered. He was worried about the amount he was thinking about Heather. His work started to suffer, as he couldn’t get anything done in the afternoon, knowing he would soon see her.

 

One night in late summer, he was once again left alone in the carriage with her. She was wearing a particularly severe and sexy business suit. He kept glancing at her over his paper, and every time he found her staring right back at him with an infuriating smirk of confidence and superiority. She was toying with him and he knew it. As he got up to leave, she spoke to him directly for the first time.

 

‘You look cute today.’

He didn’t know what to say. Had he heard her correctly? She was smiling coquettishly up at him.

‘Excuse me?’ he managed finally.

‘I said you look cute. Have a nice evening’ she smiled, raising an eyebrow at him and lowering her gaze to his crotch. Confused and embarrassed, Peter hurried off the train, ran home and masturbated thinking about coming on Heather’s face.

 

It happened again the next night. ‘You look really cute’ she smiled as he left the train. ‘Why don’t you come back to mine tonight?’

‘What?’ he asked, shocked. He really wasn’t very experienced at dealing with women, especially not women as confident as Heather.

‘Come back to mine and play with me – I know you want to. I bet you’ve wanted to for months. I see the way you look at me.’ She was staring at him intensely, her expression somewhere between innocence and menace.

‘I….I don’t know…what you’re talking about’ he stammered, caught completely off guard.

‘It’s ok, maybe not tonight. But think about it, the offer stands’ she smiled. He got off the train.

 

He cursed himself. There it was – exactly what he wanted, on a plate, and he’d turned it down. He was a fool. Things like this didn’t happen to men like him. He made a decision – next time she asks, if she does ask again, just go along with it. Do whatever she asks.

 

Sure enough, the next night, as he got up to leave, Heather put up a hand and grabbed his wrist. She was wearing an indecently short skirt and a skimpy white top that showed her body off perfectly.

‘Tonight – I want you. Come with me’ she said. It wasn’t a question. It sounded like an order.’

‘Yes’ Peter replied, as if in a trance.

 

They sat in silence, Peter staring awkwardly at the floor, Heather staring hungrily at his body, until the next stop. Then Heather jumped up and stood over Peter.

‘Follow me’ she told him.

 

He followed her out of the train station and down the lane, out of the village. The houses were large and expensive looking – he wandered which one was hers. He walked a few steps behind her and watched her tight little ass swing from side to side encased in her skirt. His mind was racing with confusion and his cock was very, very hard.

 

‘Which house is yours?’ he asked, trying to fill the silence, to regain some control of the situation.

‘It was back there – but I’m not taking you to my house. My parents are in’ she said. He gulped – her parents. He’d managed to forget quite how young she was. ‘What about you – who do you live with? She asked, keeping up the pace as they marched past the last few houses on the street. They were now definitely in the countryside.

‘Oh, I live by myself, since….yeah….’ he said sheepishly.

‘So no-one’s waiting for you at home?’ she asked, one eyebrow raised. ‘That means I can keep you as long as I like.’ Her impish little smile as she said this set his pulse racing. He couldn’t believe what was happening.

 

Heather led him out of the village and down a series of winding lanes. Soon they were heading off the road and through a field towards a small hill. Peter had no idea what was going on but from Heather’s attitude, her words and her body, he was in no doubt that he was about to experience something amazing.

 

They got to the foot of the hill, and Heather turned to smile at him. ‘We’re nearly there’ she said.

‘Where are you taking me?’ Peter asked, trying not to sound as confused and nervous as he was.

‘You’ll see – it’s somewhere private.’ As she stood there in her skirt and heels, smiling in the warm summer air, he knew that he would never have a chance of fucking a girl as beautiful as her again.

 

She took his hand and led him to a rocky area nearby. Between two of the large rocks, there was a gap. ‘Down there’ she indicated, and gave him a little push. He half jumped, half fell and landed in a small cave. He heard Heather giggling girlishly above him. ‘Help me, then’ she called, and he reached up to lift her down. His hands closed around her hips and he felt he might cum right there.

 

‘This is where it gets really cool’ she told him, excitedly. On one side of the cave was a sheet of corrugated iron. ‘Pull that back.’ He did as he was told and pulled the sheet back, revealing a tunnel behind.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘It’s a disused railway tunnel’ Heather said. ‘I’ve been bringing boys here for years.’ The idea that Heather, as young as she was, was already an experienced seductress, thrilled him.

 

They walked down the tunnel for a few minutes before Heather turned, put her hands on her hips, and told him to stop. He did what he was told. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a candle and lit it, casting a soft yellow light in the dim tunnel.

‘So’ Heather smiled. ‘Here we are. I’ve been watching you for months. And I know you’ve been watching me. You want me, don’t you Peter?’ How on earth did she know his name? He didn’t bother to ask.

‘Yes’ he said, trying to hold her supremely confident gaze but failing, and staring at the floor instead.

‘Of course you do’ she continued, teasing him. ‘So let’s get this straight. You’re desperate to have me, so we play by my rules, got it?’ He nodded meekly. Heather clapped her hands together like an excited schoolgirl.

‘Perfect. So to start – strip naked for me. Now.’

 

Peter felt he was in heaven. He was being given orders by an unbelievably sexy girl who seemed intent on playing out her wildest fantasies with him. He did as he was told, removing all of his clothes and dumping them in a heap. He stood in front of her, naked, in the chilly tunnel air.

 

Heather was smiling broadly. She walked around him slowly, her heels clicking on the tunnel floor, trailing a long painted nail across his chest, his shoulders, his back. In front of him, she sized him up, her lips parting as she looked at his long, erect cock, letting out a little gasp.

 

‘Oh my’ she breathed. ‘You are a big boy.’ He thought he was going to explode with lust. Heather was obviously in no hurry though, enjoying the complete control she had over him. ‘Now walk over there – you see that pole? And kneel down in front of it.’

 

Peter looked behind him. There was a thick metal pole, about 6 inches in diameter, between the tunnel ceiling and floor. It looked like a supporting beam. He obediently trotted towards it, turned around, and kneeled with his back against the pole. Heather was rummaging in her bag. She approached him holding a pile of plastic rings.

 

‘What are those?’ Peter asked, feeling slightly nervous again. Heather looked down at the items innocently.

‘Oh, these are just some plastic wrist ties. Nothing to worry about – I just want to see what you look like tied up.’

‘What?!’ protested Peter. ‘Are you sure?’ He couldn’t quite believe how many of his fantasies were coming true.

‘I think it’ll be really hot’ Heather giggled. Peter didn’t protest any further, so she set to work. She was quick. Before long she had secured the ties around each of his wrists. Then she pulled them tight until the plastic cut into his skin a little. It hurt but he didn’t say anything for fear of sounding like a wimp. Then he felt Heather pulling his arms back and linking the ties around his wrists with another tie. His arms were now locked together behind the pole.

 

‘Try moving, how does that feel?’ Heather asked with concern in her voice. Peter tried. He could move his arms up and down, but not very far because of the painful backwards position they were in. He tried pulling against the pole but it didn’t even shake. He was securely fastened.

 

‘It’s fine’ he lied, not wanting to betray his discomfort this early on. But his voice was shaky and he was worried Heather would stop, thinking he wasn’t up to it.

 

But Heather didn’t stop. She repeated the process on his legs, binding each of his ankles in the plastic ties and then tying them together behind the pole. He was now forced to kneel in an uncomfortable position, his weight forced on to his shoulders and hips, and because of the unnatural way his limbs were locked he could hardly move at all.

 

‘This feels quite tight’ he said, noticing that he was breathing hard already under the strain of the position. Heather was standing in front of him, arms folded, smiling.

‘Good. It’s supposed to. You look delicious’ she smiled. ‘So as you’ve probably realized, it’s impossible for you to escape, isn’t it? Are you sure you don’t want to try some more? I like watching you struggle.’

 

Peter obliged, trying as hard as he could do get out of his restraints. It was useless. All he managed to do was shift himself into a slightly more painful position. He was totally, helplessly stuck. And his dick was still very, very hard.

 

Heather stared at him in fascination. ‘Try harder’ she breathed, apparently excited. Peter did as he was told and thrashed about, putting all his effort into breaking the ties, or at least pulling the pole loose. He groaned with the exertion and finally, eventually, slumped forward, his energy spent. Unfortunately this meant his weight was now back on his tired limbs, and he winced in pain.

 

‘Poor Peter – you really are stuck, aren’t you?’ Heather smiled with satisfaction. ‘Well, if it’s any consolation, let me tell you that you look seriously hot all tied up like that.’ Through his pain and increasing nervousness Peter was thrilled that Heather was enjoying this so much, and tried to concentrate his mind on the once-in-a-lifetime sexual rewards that awaited him.

 

‘So what happens now?’ he asked hopefully.

 

‘I’m not done yet’ Heather replied, her face suddenly serious. She turned her back to Peter and took something from her bag. Then she approached him with her hands behind her back. He watched her nervously.

 

‘What are you doing? He asked.

 

‘Open wide’ she said. It was a command, not a question. Peter was almost out of his mind with lust and complied obediently.

 

Into his open mouth Heather suddenly stuffed a large, red ball gag. She forced it between his lips and kept pressing despite his bulging eyes, his frantic struggles and his muffled shouts of protest. Her beautiful face wore an expression of total concentration as she methodically worked the obscene contraption into his helpless mouth. Her dainty fingers caressing the ball, forcing it in inch by inch, until it popped in behind his gums. While he screamed into it, she set to work securing the gag’s network of straps and locks until it was totally, immovably locked around the now terrified and helpless man’s head.

 

Heather stood back and stared at Peter. She was no longer smiling. Instead she was regarding him with a sort of cool fascination, like a schoolgirl conducting a science experiment. Peter looked up at her in abject terror. He was screaming into his gag but hardly any sound was coming out, just muffled moans. He was desperately trying to break the plastic ties securing his wrists and ankles to the pole, but they were proving to be fiendishly cruel and secure restraints, cutting painfully into his skin the more he thrashed about. He looked up at Heather with pleading eyes, trying to convey to her some degree of his extreme fear and discomfort. This had clearly gone badly wrong – she must have no idea how much pain he was in, he thought.

 

‘It’s no good moaning, I can’t hear a word’ she finally said. How could she tease him when he was clearly in so much distress?!

 

‘So’ she began, her voice calm and measured. ‘Let’s think about this.’ He couldn’t believe how composed she sounded, when he was grunting and thrashing about like an animal about to be put down. ‘You are totally, helplessly tied up in a disused railway tunnel, miles from any passers by, and no-one knows you’re here. You are also gagged and unable to free yourself or make any kind of sound. Are you scared yet?’ Heather’s eyes widened and there was a demonic glint in them as she asked this question.

 

Peter nodded frantically. By now yes, he was very scared indeed.

 

‘Good. I’m glad you understand the severity of the situation you’ve allowed yourself to be put into. I want you to be fully aware, at this point, that you willingly let me do all these things to you. You let me do this to you, didn’t you Peter?’

 

He nodded again. It was true, after all. He had let her and he had loved letting her. This was the most intense sexual experience of his life.

 

‘Good’ she smiled again. ‘So, now that you understand that you willingly walked into this predicament, I think it’s time to tell you that I have no intention of releasing you.’

 

Peter thought he hadn’t heard her right. He was so shocked he momentarily forgot about the ache in his limbs and jaw. Heather licked her lips. ‘That’s right’ she repeated – ‘I’m going to leave you like this.’

 

He shook his head and tried no moan ‘no’ into his gag. Heather was grinning again. ‘Poor little boy’ she purred. ‘You’re a long way out of your depth I’m afraid. Did you really think I was interested in having sex with you?’ She laughed out loud, a gorgeous, girlish laugh that filled Peter with lust. He was desperate to have her, but more than that he was desperate to be released. He pulled with all his might against the pole, his face turning red and his veins bulging with the exertion.

 

‘I can’t believe how easy it was’ Heather continued, standing right in front of him and staring at him, her eyes hungrily roaming over every inch of his naked, helpless form. ‘But please, trust me, having this power, being able to get a man into this hopeless situation, is such a turn on. And leaving you here….ooooh!’ She let out a moan of pleasure, her hand sliding down beneath her skirt. Heather’s eyes widened as she stood, inches in front of Peter, her fingers pressing against herself, letting him see and hear her pleasure, making sure that he knew he would never have her.

 

Peter started struggling again, the enormity of what Heather had done to him slowly sinking in.

 

‘You’re never going to touch this body’ she taunted him between heavy breaths. ‘In fact you’re never going to touch another body again….oh god….’ Her breathing was speeding up as she talked, as she saw the mindless terror in her victim’s eyes, as he screamed uselessly into the cruel gag.

 

‘You let me do this to you…and….now….it’s too late….oh…..oh god.’ Heather threw her head back and bit her lip as a huge orgasm coursed through her body. She sank to her knees and stared Peter in the eyes as she came harder than she’d ever come before.

 

Heather kneeled there in front of him, breathing hard, licking her lips, relishing every second of this torture. Peter’s eyes were pleading with her. He knew he was helpless – no-one would come looking for him. He let himself hope it was all a sick joke, but as she got up and packed her bag, he knew that she was deadly serious. He started screaming as loud as he could as she stood in front of him and blew him a kiss. And he was sobbing uncontrollably now. Heather smiled.

 

‘Are you crying? Oh, that is so hot! I have to get this for later.’ She produced a digital camera and took photo after photo of the tears streaming down Peter’s face, extreme close-ups showing the extent of his misery and anguish.

 

‘Goodbye Peter. Thanks – it was a lot of fun. Try not to miss me too much’ she giggled as she turned on her heel, extinguished the candle and marched down the tunnel. Peter wailed into his gag as he heard her pull the iron sheet back across the entrance, leaving him in darkness.

 

Hours passed. He had long ago given up struggling. It was useless – he could not free himself. Most humiliatingly of all, even now, in full knowledge of Heather’s insane cruelty, when he thought of the way she looked at him with the gag in his mouth, his dick grew hard. He tried to rub himself into the ground, to achieve even that relief, but he couldn’t reach. As the ache in his muscles began to blot out all other thoughts, he shut his eyes and saw Heather’s pretty, innocent face floating in front of him before he collapsed into unconsciousness.

 

Back home, stretching out in her huge, soft bed, Heather couldn’t stop smiling. When she’d got home she’d had dinner with her parents, told them all about her day at work, and treated herself to a long, luxurious bubble bath. Now she was looking at the photos she’d taken of Peter. Her hand reached down lazily as she flicked through the expressions of terror and confusion on his face, and she quickly brought herself to another mindblowing orgasm. The thought of him still there, totally helpless, crying, in the dark, was the most delicious pleasure she’d ever known. Heather toyed with the idea of going back tomorrow, just to look at him – and maybe tease him with the prospect of release. Leaving him there for the second time might be even more cruel, more delectable, than the first. Or maybe it was even crueler never to go back there again. Either way, she was happy, and she drifted off into a heavy, satisfying sleep.