I have a friend Lisa who works in the transportation hospitality business in the Orlando area. Her job is to arrange transportation from Orlando International Airport to various hotels as people call in with their travel plans. As I had an opportunity to do some business travel in the Orlando area, I thought that I would unveil the opportunity to use her services and in the process see my friend. The business meeting was for first thing Monday morning and I arrived in Orlando late Friday evening. I planned my trip this way so that I could get over jet lag and to spend as much time as I could with my friend. She also knows that I am into BDSM as I've told her a long time ago. Obviously, you know something is going to happen because otherwise I would not be writing the story. I just didn't expect it to be in this fashion.
As her company is a relatively new start up, she frequently does the driving herself. She frequently complains to me about the number of driving runs she has to do at the most awful hours of the night and of how unreliable the airline industry is. It is only during convention season that they actually have to hire part-time work. So I fully expected her to greet me at the airport. I wandered fairly aimlessly throughout the airport wondering where my friend was and where I could find pay phone in this bloody place when I saw a rather large woman wearing a uniform with her company name.
As I moved closer, I noticed that she had one of those signs with my name on it. I introduced myself, and wondered if she was there to pick me up and had my friend send her to do so. She replied in the affirmative, that they got an emergency pick up call when the driver of one of the competing companies decided that he did not want work that particular shift. Since this run was going to be of some good money, the company could not turn it down. My friend had gambled on knowing my personality enough that I would not leave the airport and would wander around the airport and hope that I would eventually find her. Unfortunately, she was unable to make the run herself. This new woman driver kindly explained it to me that all these people and be dropped off at one hotel and that she would drive me to my friend's house where I would be staying for the duration of this trip.
I shoved what little luggage I had into the back of the van and climbed into the back seat corner where I thought I could get a little shuteye. About 40 minutes later we all arrived at the hotel and the other passengers all got their luggage and wearily went on their way to the front desk to begin the tedious process of hotel check-in. I started to wake up knowing that my journey is soon to be over in that I would be having a nice rest at my friend's house.
As the driver was leaving the hotel, I began to wonder why she was taking the long way around the back of the hotel instead of the roundabout that these hotels have in front of them. As we slowed down to go over one of those hotel parking lot speed bumps the driver came to a full stop and calmly said, "Strip".
As you can imagine, I was quite taken aback by this comment. It is one thing to be ordered to strip by a significant other in the privacy of one's home. It is quite another to be ordered to strip by a total stranger in a public, albeit somewhat secluded, place.
Seeing my hesitancy, which I presume wasn't unexpected, she said something else that stunned me.
"Are you not a slave?" She asked with a particular emphasis on the word "slave".
At this point, I began to blush. I know there are some people into BDSM who can just look at person and tell if they are submissive or dominant or switch or even if they are into BDSM at all. This person didn't strike me as someone who could be that good of a reader, and I began to suspect that my friend told her. So, looking down at my feet I meekly affirmed that I indeed was.
"Then have your hearing checked slave. I said 'strip.'"
With my mind racing a mile a minute, wondering what this woman is going to do to me, wondering what would happen if Florida Highway Patrol decides to stop this van and do a license check for legal drivers, or what have you, I slowly began removing my sneakers, my socks, my shirt.
Sensing my hesitancy and embarrassment, the driver decided to encourage me.
"Lisa tells me that you shave your cock and balls. Prove it to me right here, right now."
With encouragement like that, how was I going to refuse? I stripped completely, grabbed an old washcloth and laid it out on the seat and proceeded to sit down. I dared not look into this woman's eyes and I cupped my hands over my cock and balls. That done, the driver then proceeds to place the van in park. She then reaches into her purse and pulls out a blindfold and orders me to put it on.
"If you wish to see Lisa tonight then offer no resistance to what I'm going to do to you now. You don't want to know what the alternatives would be."
I did not offer any resistance to what the driver was doing to me. Did I really have any options? I felt her put a handcuff on my left wrist and attach it to the left railing. She then did the same to my right wrist and right railing. I then felt some rope being attached to my left ankle and being fastened to what I'm assuming was the left railing and similarly to my right side. So here I am, naked, blindfolded, bound spread-eagled sitting in a van with a strange driver and trusting that I'm going to live through the experience. As you can imagine by now, my cock brain had different ideas as it was beginning to let its presence be known.
"Mission accomplished and you are right, he does shave his cock and balls." she said as she spoke into one of those walkie-talkie devices.
I heard Lisa's distinctive laugh coming from the other end.
"Hi Phil! You should be very careful what you wish for. After all, you might just get it. Don't worry Phil, we're not gonna dump you in the bay. But let's just say we're going to find out exactly how much pain you can take."
I can see it now. A long weekend, lots of bondage, lots of torment and me wishing for the weekend to end and for a workweek to begin. Or did I really wish for it to end? What a lovely way to start a weekend. I think.