Repairs ~ A Danger Date Story

inspired by the pic on this post by Jz… found here…thanks for that, Jz! ~nilla~

Damn the rain that made her have to check the undercarriage of her car in the stuffy garage. It would have been much easier to see what was going on under there if she could have parked out in the driveway in the sun. But today, the one day she had free to check the weird whangy noise under her chassis, Mother Nature had to send a deluge.

Propping the chucks behind the wheels, she jacked up the front until she was sure there was enough room for her to wiggle under. Frankly the thought of it made her want to puke, but her purse was light this week, and her ability to Rube Goldberg a fix was legendary. If it bought her an extra month or two before she had to haul off to the garage, that was all to the good.

She opened the side door, the one that led to the house, letting in a wafting of rain-chilled air. Drawing her denim over-shirt around herself, she sighed, and sat on the towel she’d spread. Laying down, she gingerly inserted herself under the car. Ah, and there was the problem, a pipe whose tie-down had failed. That explained the thunking wobble she felt under her feet when driving the under-carriage killing roads to work. Though she dearly loved living in the boondocks and not the city, there were definite drawbacks to it. Still, this would be a relatively simple fix. Feeling around for the duct tape, a Rube Goldbergering necessity, she tore off a generous strip and began to wind it around the pipe, re-attaching it to the metal support beside it.

Caught up in her task, she failed to hear the approach of footsteps. Or perhaps she wouldn’t have heard them anyway with the thundering boom of rain on the garage roof. Her first clue that someone was there was when her ankles were kicked apart.

“Woha! What???”

“Shut up.”

Something pointy poked against her thigh. Holy hell, was she being robbed? In her own garage?!  And in a vulnerable and defenseless position to boot.

“Unzip your pants.”

“I will not!”

The pointy thing pressed harder into her thigh. Was that a glint of silver? A knife? Jeezuz…her heart thumped.

Her hands moved to her fly, unzipping her jeans as she spoke rapidly.

“Look, I…my wallet is in the kitchen and…”

“Shut the fuck up and finish. Hurry up!”

The voice was a rough growl. Goosebumps rose along her arms as she worked her zipper down.

“And the button, cunt. Do I have to tell you every thing?”

“You didn’t say the button. And you’ve got a knife. On my thigh. I’m not taking any chances of second guessing you. Be specific if you want something.”

Why the hell could she not keep that note of censure from her voice. He could freaking kill her and over her snippy attitude. Her mouth kept doing that to her, all the time.

His hands gathered fabric on the side of her jeans, then tugged down, until it cleared her buttocks, her thighs, her calves. The bright chill of the air hit her exposed skin as he tugged off one sneaker, then the other, before removing her pants completely. Maybe she should try to shimmy out from under the car…

He pressed the knife against her pussy.

“Don’t fucking move.”

He teased the tip of the knife under the elastic band encircling her leg. No, she wasn’t going to move a hairs breadth. The fabric parted as he turned the blade; her pussy now felt the caress of the damp New England air. Containing the shiver was impossible.

“Look, you don’t have to do this….”

The blade pressed against the plump flesh. Swallowing the rest of her words she took shallow breaths. The knife moved upwards, slicing away the rest of her panties.

“Stretch your arms out over your head.”

“It’s kind of tight in here…not a lot of space to be wiggling in..”

The knife pressed against her again, the warning clear.

“OKAY, okay, I’m doing it…just…please…”

Somehow she got her arms stretched out over her head. Something…someone…grabbed her wrists, tugging them. The cool kiss of metal and a series of clicks were followed by a sense of weight. Her hands were dropped to the ground, the sound of a chain clinking echoing under the car.

“Hey!” she yelped, as she heard the unmistakable sound of the jack being turned. The car lowered until it was mere inches from her. The thought of being crushed under a thousand pounds of automobile frightened enough to make her lash out, feet kicking, arms trying to move. Whatever he’d done to the chain had kept her mostly immobile, and she only managed to bang her heel on the concrete floor.

Cold liquid splashed against her crotch. She felt the cool slide of it leaking down her pussy lips, slipping into her crack, the tickly sensation of drops as they fell onto the pavement under her. There were other sounds, the softest of voices. There were two of them. The sensation of something pressing against her anus got her immediate attention. Whatever it was, it was huge. Eyes squeezed tightly, she thrashed her legs, only to have them caught and held. Slaps on her thigh made her cry out. Nothing stopped the persistent push of something enormous seeking entry into her tiny rectum. When the head popped through, she screamed. There was movement between her legs, sounds she could not identify, but her whole attention was on the intruder in her ass, and the painful stretching ache there.

“It’s very big, this dildo. It is braced most perfectly. Listen to me girl. We are leaving now. You can get out of this predicament easily. Shimmy down from under the car. Fill your ass with this rubber cock. Your arms will move with effort, the chain is very heavy, but you are strong enough to move it. The key to the cuffs is on the workbench.”

He slapped her thigh again, but spoke no more.  Their feet made soft sounds as they walked away, the door closing behind them. She waited a moment, another, gathering her breath as she made that first painful shimmy out from under the car. Her arms already ached from tugging the heavy chain a mere inch or two. Her bottom protested the further insertion of something where nothing that big belonged. Biting her lip, she wiggled herself free, yet not without consequence, as she moved one slow, ass-filling inch at a time.

It wasn’t until much later, as she limped out of the garage holding a dildo that could double for a Louisville Slugger that she saw the blue paper he had taped against the door. It bore the logo “Danger Date”.

5 thoughts on “Repairs ~ A Danger Date Story

    1. Aren’t they? I wonder what the hell they are going to do next…or should I say “who” they are going to do?



    1. 😀
      I’m SO behind on responding to everyone’s kind notes and comments…I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed my naughty darker tales. 😀


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