525: Hope

by Eva

"You don't have to do this," said the girl. She was maybe ten, and I didn't know her name, but then I never ask. What's the point when you only have them for an hour and never see them again?

The child was pretty; I wouldn't choose anything but. She sat next to me in my car, arms tied behind. Wrists crossed and secured. Knees tightly bound. She was in a short skirt (another preference of mine) so I can see their thin legs.

But it was curious thing for her to say. Always they struggle and cry and wail and say they want mummy. Don't we all, I respond. But I'm fifty next year and my mummy went years ago. And she never tied me up, the cow: I would have loved her to fasten me and touch me.

This nameless girl though wasn't crying or screaming. "I don't mind you tying me up," she said with her clear, bright eyes on me. "I like it," she added. "But if you untie me then you can kiss me."

"I can kiss you anyway," I said. I was in charge. I'd kidnapped this kid as I do every so often. Scenario: mature, safe-looking woman offers small child a lift, ties them up when they get in the car. Enjoys them as best possible. Runs away.

Of course it's not easy, but how else do you feel them up? How else do you get a pretty girl to fondle? Tie 'em, feel 'em, leave 'em I always say. Seven years saying it, if you must know.

"You can put your hand in my panties," she said, "if you untie my legs and I can open them."

"You'll kick. They all do. And if you don't, then what?"

Nameless smiled. "Then you finger me and if my hands were untied, I can finger you."

"Girls shouldn't know about that," I sneered. "Mummy taught you?"

"My grandmother," she said.

I was aroused. I leant over, kissed the child, tongues pushing and fencing. My hand on her little puffy-bump chest.

We broke after a while. She smiled. "You kiss nice."

"I have kissed a lot of young girls." I said, trying to be cold and aloof, but I was pleased.

"My legs," pleaded the girl.

Reluctantly I untied them, and she didn't kick. Opened her legs wide. I got my hand inside her thin panties. Felt her bald pussy. Made her cry with delight and wriggle against her ropes. Kissed her to stop the kid moaning with pleasure too loudly.

I left her hands and arms tied. Yeah, I'm a cow, I know. She wanted to finger me too, and I wanted it, but I'm in charge. She understood, reluctantly.

She lay down on the grass outside the car, hidden from the road. I sat carefully on her pretty face. She lapped and licked and moaned. So did I.

Later I gave her my name and address and she thanked me. For the first time I let a girl go without being tied up. She waved me goodbye, and now I have hope.

Her name is Hope.