You walk the streets of your hometown. It's almost midnight, but you don't care. You're trying to walk home after the drinks your friends convinced you to have. It wasn't so much you would accidentally stumble into the street, but enough to make you disoriented. A street name looks familiar, so you turn onto it and keep walking.
At some point, you stumbled onto a business street, lined with small, local shops. One still has its lights on, so it must still be open. Somewhere in your fuzzed mind, you decide to go in and ask for directions.
The shop is full of dolls of different sizes, puppets, and other various toys. It's larger inside them it had appeared from the sidewalk. There's a clerk's desk at the far side of the room with a door marked for employees behind it.
Seeing no clerk, you search the seemingly-endless isles for them. You find a man in a distant isle in strange clothes. His hair is red and slightly shaggy, dangling over his shoulders. His eye is tattooed with a sort of spiky design. He wears a tailored suit vest over a white undershirt, which is rolled up to his elbows. His pants a black and clearly meant for something slightly fancier then a simple toymaker.
Conclusion: Shop owner/Strange man➡Dangerous
You clear your throat. "'Scuse me, but could I get a map? Or directions?" You hear your voice, distantly noting how slurred they are.
The man looks up, surprised at first, but smiles after taking you in. He stands, places his left hand across his chest and gives a slight bow. "Of course miss, I'd he happy to." His voice is somewhat deep, smooth. Calming.
He leads the way back to his desk. "I have a few maps in my back room, come see." He slides a key into the locked door and opens it. It's a simple break room with a counter along one wall, cupboards above and below, with a microwave on it. At the other end there's a very small bed, a threadbare couch and an old television. Even though the space is small, it's as clean as a hospital room.
You follow the shopkeeper inside and sit on the edge of the couch, watching the man open a small drawer on the other end.
There's a faint click sound and the lights in the room go out. You hear the man walk to the door. Another click, this one slightly louder.
Oh no. I'm trapped! Bad idea! Bad idea! Warning scream in your head as you try to remember how your brother fought off bullies back in school. No good. Your brain is still too fogged to think straight.
There's slight pressure on your shoulder, pushing you up against the back of the couch. He's pushing you back. "Stay right here. Be a good girl and I'll give you that map." His voice is dripping with lust.
A drawer opens and you hear the soft clatter of metal. A cupboard swirls open, a bit of shuffling, and it closes again. You hear him drop the things on the floor somewhere near the corner the bed was in. He roughly grabs your arm, practically throwing you into the bed. You squeak in surprise as you feel your hands pinned above your head. Something cold and hard wraps around your wrist as you hear more clinking.
Chains! So he's a kinky son of a bitch. Shit. You screech. Not that you particularly minded. Sometimes chains were fun to play with. But not when you're about to be raped!
You pull the chains, but they don't give much. A dark chuckle sounds from above you as you feel him slip over you. Pressure on your waist, but not enough to hurt. A rough kiss plants itself firmly on your lips. You clamp your jaw shut, and seal your lips.
He growls and grabs your breast, squeezing harder then necessary. You gasp, about to squeak, or maybe moan? You don't know, because your cut off by something strong and slick feeling around your mouth, stroking your tongue and the roof of your wet cavern. You realise he's frenching you, and he tastes amazing. You moan as he slowly drags the tip of his tongue over the ridge of yours, sending shivers through you. Your hips press up into his, wanting a lot more of what he's offering.
