by Loki Renard
“Would you like a drink?” Tex greeted her by holding up a little bottle of alcohol.
It was the best thing he could have possibly said. Zora nodded eagerly.
“I thought you might,” he smiled, mixing the little bottle of bourbon into a glass of coke.
Well aware that he was probably trying to get her drunk so he could get information out of her, Zora sipped her drink carefully. She sipped it all the way to the bottom and then she sipped the next one very carefully as well, and then the one after that. Eventually she passed out with extreme care.
* * *
Morning came too soon. It came too soon because Tex had set an alarm clock for six am, proving himself to be a patently sadistic man. When she ignored the alarm he shook her awake insistently.
“No let me sleep,” Zora demanded, pulling the bedclothes around her and opening just one eye so she didn't wake up too much. She didn't know where Tex had slept, but he'd managed to shower, shave and procure clean clothes since she'd last seen him. He was wearing a neat pair of black slacks and a rather formal looking off-white shirt. He looked neat and tidy, very businesslike.
“You have a problem,” he said, frowning at her as he did up the cuffs of his shirt sleeves.
“I know, and he won't leave me alone.”
“You drink too much,” Tex persisted.
She rolled her eyes under the covers. “You were the one giving me the drinks.”
“But I was trying to take advantage of you,” he said, as if that made total sense. “You should have been more careful.”
“And did you? Take advantage of me?”
“No,” Tex sighed. “You didn't tell me anything useful, other than the fact you hated Savage but loved his feet, whatever that was supposed to mean.”
“Maybe you should start looking into his feet and leave me alone,” Zora suggested, putting the pillow over head.
He pulled it off. “Get up and eat something.”
“Don't want to eat something.”
“We're not stopping today, so I suggest you eat.” Tex moved across the room and started shuffling some papers around.
She poked her head out from under the covers briefly. “Where are we going?”
“You'll find out when we get there.”
“Tell me now,” Zora demanded, diving under the cover of the blankets once more.
“That's not how this works.”
“Then I'm staying here.”
“Zora...” Tex's voice got all low and growly. “I'm running low on patience.”
“I'm running low on fucks to give.”
That, it seemed, was the final straw. The covers were ripped back and a hearty slap was laid across her still pink rear. It got a reaction in the form of an outraged shriek. “Stop that!”
He grabbed her by the upper arm and hauled her up onto her feet.“Eat something.” He wasn't messing around anymore. He looked impatient, and maybe even sort of angry. “Actually,” he corrected himself. “Have a shower first and get changed. Then eat something.”
He pointed towards the corner of the room. There were fresh clothes on the table, a light floral blouse that was very pretty, if not quite Zora's style and a long blue skirt.
“I'm not wearing that.”
Tex sighed and pinched the base of his nose as if he felt a bleed coming on. “Must you argue every point?”
“Hey, I'm not the one who decided to kidnap me and put me in silly clothes,” Zora said.
“Get in the shower before I get the strap again.” The low gravelly growl was back so Zora decided to grab the clothes and have a shower. Tex was starting to look a little too strained for her liking.
In the bathroom she discovered that there was some clean fresh underwear along with the clothes, which she was quite grateful for. Her frustrated attempts at masturbation had left her current underwear in a less than desirable state. She took a long shower then tried on the new clothing. She definitely didn't like the skirt, but the blouse wasn't too bad. As a compromise she kept the blouse on but ditched the skirt then wandered back into the room in her panties, looking for her jeans.
Tex raised a brow at her semi-dressed state, but as he'd seen it all before, she wasn't particularly worried about him seeing her in her panties again. He'd picked out very plain white cotton underwear for her, so she was hardly putting on an immodest show.
“Where are my jeans?” She asked eventually when she failed to track the pants she'd been wearing down.
“I tossed them,” Tex said. “Wear the skirt.”
“I don't want to wear that skirt,” Zora said. “It's ugly and uncomfortable.”
“Put the skirt on.”
“No.”
“Wear the skirt or wear nothing.”
“Fine by me,” Zora said, calling his bluff.
“Put the skirt on!” Tex thundered, resorting to increased volume in the face of ongoing resistance from his captive.
“You put the bloody skirt on!” Zora shouted back, not to be outdone.
They stared daggers at one another from across the room. Ironically Zora sort of wished she had put the skirt on, only because it was hard to be taken seriously in a pair of high-waisted cotton bikini panties.
“I'm going to count to five,” Tex said, recovering some of his patience. “If you're not wearing the skirt by then, I'll put you in it myself.”
“You will not,” Zora insisted.
“Five,” he said, staring at her quite seriously. “Four...”
“Don't be stupid,” Zora said.
“Three... Two...”
“It's ugly. Just give me my jeans back.”
“One.”
Zora stood her ground defiantly as Tex walked past her and retrieved the skirt from the bathroom. Then when he inevitably grabbed her and tried to wrangle her towards the bed she kicked and flailed and starfished her arms and legs, making it entirely impossible for him to get the skirt anywhere close to her waist.
“That's it,” Tex growled, giving up on the skirt and turning her over his lap. “I've had enough of this, you're behaving like a spoiled little girl!” With that said, he started spanking her with very hard swats of his palm, the slaps of his hand reigniting the fires of the strapping in a way that was very unpleasant for poor Zora. She squealed and swore, but he didn't care, he just went right on spanking, turning her rear a bright red under the panties. “You will do as you are told,” he said, emphasizing every word with a slap. “You will put the skirt on, you will eat breakfast, then you will go out to the car.”
It was all too much for Zora, who had been so very stoic the night before. In spite of herself, she could feel tears welling, not entirely from pain, but also from stress and fear and the humiliation of her situation. Before long those tears were coursing down her cheeks and she was crying quite audibly. She hated every tear that fell, each and every one of them seemed like she was capitulating to the enemy. The tears did make a difference to the spanking though, Tex slowed and eventually stopped when they started. “Go get dressed,” he said, letting her up from his lap.
She didn't of course, she just slumped down onto the carpet, sniffling away like the baby he'd accused her of being. With a sigh he collected her from the ground and finally managed to slip the skirt onto her body whilst her resistance was low. Then he scooped her up and carried her over to the breakfast table, where toast and coffee waited for her. “Eat something,” he said, depositing her in a chair.
Having lost the battle of the skirt, she held out against breakfast for as long as she could, but it soon became apparent that Tex was prepared to sit there until she ate. With the threat of yet another spanking hanging over her, she finally deigned to eat. Miserably chewing at the corner of some dry toast whilst tears welled in her eyes, Zora considered herself the most blighted and unfortunate human being there ever had been.
Chapter Four
Pouty silence was the order of the day as Tex drove Zora through low rolling red desert hills. Zora was uncomf
ortable on a hot stinging bottom, wearing a skirt she was fast coming to loathe and not just because it had gotten her spanked. It didn't let her move her legs the way she wanted to and it was made of horrible hot stiff material. Even with the air conditioning on in the car it felt all prickly and strange on her legs.
Tex didn't speak much, it seemed like he was in a hurry. Or maybe he was just tired of her antics. At any rate, there was very little conversation in the black sedan as it sped across the dusty roads. In spite of her misery and displeasure, Zora almost fell asleep, lulled by the steady motion and monotonous landscape.
She wasn't quite all the way asleep when they pulled into a gas station at the side of the road. “We need gas,” Tex said by way of redundant explanation. “Stay in the car and don't do anything funny.”
“I'm tired,” Zora complained. “Can I go in the back?”
He gave her a long suspicious look. “Okay, but I'm watching you.”
He wasn't watching her though, that was the thing. Whilst he pumped the gas, Zora wriggled between the front seats and took up residence in the back of the car. She noticed that he kept checking his watch impatiently as he waited for the tank to fill and when he went into the station to pay she took advantage of the moment's solitude to make a subtle adjustment to her clothing, one that made her much more comfortable.
She'd barely gotten finished stuffing the ugly skirt into the trash can next to the gas pump before Tex came striding across the forecourt. He barely spared her a glance when he got back in the car and then they were whizzing off across Nevada once more. Zora was careful to keep the lower half of her body out of his line of sight as she laid down across the back seat, enjoying the cool flow of conditioned air across her bare thighs and heated bottom.
Her enjoyment lasted several hours, but eventually Tex pulled over again, this time in a simple road side rest stop that was little more than some public toilets and a couple of picnic tables. “Get out and go to the toilet,” he said, looking at her in the rear view mirror.
A little spark of unwanted fear leaped into life in Zora's belly. “No I'm okay,” she said. “I don't need to go.”
Tex gave a long suffering, paternal sort of sigh. “We're not going to have many stops today. Get out and go.”
“No really, I'm fine,” Zora insisted.
Tex didn't say anything else, he opened his door then came around to the back of the car and opened her door. In spite of the sparks of trepidation dancing in her belly, Zora almost laughed at his stunned mullet expression.
“What?” He shook his head disbelievingly and put his hands on his hips, towering over his half dressed captive. “What are you doing? Where's your skirt?”
“I'm getting cool. The skirt is following its destiny,” Zora explained pertly.
He raised his eyes skyward and appeared to be counting to ten silently. “You're more trouble than a a three year old,” he said when he finished breathing deeply. “Put your skirt back on.”
“Can't.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and his mustache bristled in restrained outrage. “What do you mean you can't?”
“I threw out it the window a few miles back,” she lied. She didn't want to risk him taking her back to the gas station to regain the hideous piece of clothing.”
He stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. “We're in the middle of the desert and you're half naked.”
“Terrible, isn't it,” Zora said, smiling sweetly.
“You little...”
He reached for her. She squealed and tried to scramble away, but there was nowhere to go in the back of the car and he flipped her over easily then held her down with one strong hand placed at the base of her spine. He put the other to work smacking her already sore cheeks.
“You! Little! Brat!” He emphasized every word with a new smack. “Why, I ought to...”
“Leave me alone!” She squealed, finishing his sentence for him. But it was not to be. She felt his hands move to her hips and her eyes went wide as he thumbed her panties off her bottom, baring her cheeks. Her modesty was preserved when he tucked the panties under her bottom, but it was a tenuous position at best.
“Keep still unless you want to lose those panties entirely,” he growled.
“You can't do this! You said you wouldn't!” Zora gasped, caught between outrage and despair.
“That was before you insisted on behaving like a naughty! Little! Girl!” He started smacking again and Zora was suddenly able to fully appreciate the protection the cotton panties had given her. The sting was much more intense with skin hitting skin, and Tex was not holding back, he was spanking her with hard, steady strokes all over her bottom and a few on her upper thighs too.
The spanking might have gone on forever, but for the arrival of a RV stuffed to the brim with squealing excited children. Tex straightened quickly and shut the back door of the car, giving her some privacy before they made a complete spectacle of themselves. Shut back in the dark alone she whimpered and rubbed her bottom. Heat was radiating off her skin, her bottom felt just as hot and dry as the desert outside the window. A moment later she heard the trunk of the car open, then Tex got back into the driver's side of the car and passed over a pair of men's black slacks. “Put those on and get your disobedient little rear back up here.”
Slightly mollified by at least getting some trousers to wear, Zora slipped them on. They were loose and too long, but they were a million miles better than the skirt. Tex watched her every move over his shoulder and when she had them on, he jerked his head impatiently towards the front seat. “Up here now. I don't want you out of my sight.”
Feeling very sore and small, Zora squeezed back into the front passenger seat and sat down on her freshly warmed bottom.
They set off relatively quickly neither having taken the toilet stop they were supposed to have. Tex was not well pleased. His expression was thunderous when he spoke it was in a low growl. “You're trouble.”
“I didn't tell you to kidnap me, did I?”
Her response wasn't anywhere near contrite and he shot her a dirty look then focused his attention back on the road, which was largely straight and boring.
“You should just let me go,” Zora said, pushing her advantage. “I'm of no use to you.”
“You better hope that doesn't turn out to be true,” Tex growled. He didn't make a more specific threat, but Zora got the message. “Complete and utter little brat,” he said, as if he were voicing part of an ongoing internal diatribe that she was not privy to. “No discipline at all.”
Zora smiled to herself and looked out the window at the burnished red and orange hills. It felt good to get her own way, to score a point here and there. She was a great deal more comfortable in the pants, which allowed her to twist around and sit cross-legged in the front passenger seat.
Tex continued to occasionally remark upon her poor behavior for the next several miles. “I wonder if he did spank you after all,” he said, referring indirectly to Savage. “You certainly don't behave like it.”
“I behave like someone old enough to choose what they want to wear, Tex,” Zora said. “It's not my fault if you insist on trying to boss me around and dress me up in ugly clothes like some sort of doll.”
He scowled at the road as Zora came to the realization she was dealing with a man who truly expected to be obeyed. He was actually surprised that she kept doing what she wanted to do. He had to be hooked up to the government or something like that, there was no other way he would have cultivated that much of a sense of entitlement. That left her with a question that had been floating between them from the moment he'd dragged her out from under the bed. “What are you going to do with me if your plan doesn't work out?”
He glanced at her quickly. “My plan?”
“Your plan to lure my ex by using me as maidenly bait,” Zora said. “What if it doesn't work?”
Tex shook his head. “It will work.”
“Well are you going to let me go if it doesn't? Or do I
get a bullet in my skull?” The question was delivered in perfectly neutral tones that shocked Tex into looking at her and not the road for almost a full thirty seconds.
“Do you take me for a murderer?”
Zora shrugged. “I know you're a kidnapper – and that's all I really know about you. Don't tell me you're offended because your victim doesn't quite trust you.”
“I'm not going to kill you,” he said, focusing back on the road.
“You'd probably say that even if you were going to kill me.”
His face twisted with frustration. “I'm taking you somewhere safe, and you're going to be asked a few questions.”
That was new information. New information she didn't like. “Why?”
“Because I'm not sure you are who you say you are.”
“Wait, you're the one who decided I am who I am.” Zora said, barely making sense. “And I thought it was your job to get the truth out of people.”
“It is,” Tex said. “Sometimes you need the proper environment for that.”
Zora fell silent, mulling that information over. She'd fucked up. Far from making Tex think that she was harmless, she'd managed to make him so suspicious he was hauling her off to question her in a 'proper environment'. Old fear returned. A 'proper environment' could be a cell or worse. She had to get away. She'd been stupid to let Tex dominate her, he'd distracted her with spankings and now she was being driven, docile as a lamb, to god knows where.
Visions of the compound came flashing back into her mind, memories of being locked away deep underground. Panic came with them. She started breathing shallow and fast. The dusty landscape was flashing by too fast, too fast to escape. There was no way out, but there had to be a way out, there had to be. She was starting to feel dizzy and nauseous. Her palms were sweating, her heart was pounding and in turn her breathing became even more uncontrolled. She started shifting about in her seat, trying to get comfortable, but there was no finding comfort, not here, not anywhere.
