the present

Derek could feel the van running fast over smooth, wide roads for a long while--still blindfolded, of course. Eventually there was an unmistakable scent of sea air, and the van went slower and slower over until pulling into a long gravel driveway. Derek could hear it crunching under the tires. When he was removed from the vehicle, gulls. Waves crashing. He was nervous again.

“Do you know where you are?” The voice asked. He wasn't sure he should say anything. He felt his shirt lift up, and two soft hands explored his chest. “Don't be mad, Derek. You'll learn everything in due time.”

“We're on the coast,” He replied, “though I'm not sure where...or even which one.” A woman's laughter came from in front of him.

“Don't be so melodramatic. We didn't have time to bring you all the way across the country. But you're right: we're on the coast. I wanted to ask if you were prone to motion sickness—if you are, it can be hell when you're blindfolded on a boat.”

“How considerate of you,” Derek said, acidic. His shirt traveled higher, and fingers began tickling his sides. He burst into laughter.

“Listen, Mister Attitude. I understand that you're being inconvenienced,” The voice got closer as Derek felt something grasp and pull his hair, twisting his head slightly to the side. “but I think we've kept you generally comfortable—considering what we're capable of doing.” Derek shuddered as he felt teeth pinch his left earlobe. They relented, and a tongue danced in their place.

“True...and I'm grateful for that,” Derek's tone was sincere now--submissive. He was such a good boy now. “I don't really get motion sickness, but thank you.” He was near the ocean--hovering in the air, talking to an invisible, intangible being, and--"Aren't you going to get caught?"

“Private rental,” a sultry voice whispered. A tongue lapped his ear again while another dove into his mouth. Lips met his. Fingertips played with his nipples again, and after a few kisses the mouth attacked him, invisible hands grabbing lower and squeezing harder. Through his surprised noises behind the unseen lips, he could hear the waves getting closer and closer. He could feel wind against his face, rushing faster. The invisible force making out with him was forcing him to keep quiet, but it didn't stop him from worrying about what was under his feet. Could he hear the crashes of waves rushing away in the other direction?  Was he about to be dropped into--

And then it was muted. The sounds of the open sea were encapsulated again. He was inside somewhere again.

"Are--are we on the water in something?” Derek asked.

“We're going for a boat ride, my dear.” The voice laughed. "Sorry for getting a bit physical with you, but I had to take your mind off the little flight over. You've been a bit jumpy, and I didn't want you to think--well--what you probably thought." Derek heard something shut. He felt his blindfold untie. It fluttered away in front of him. Derek could see two dim walls of this space, but little else. He was still restrained and hovering, so other than the way sounds reverberated, he had little clue as to where he was. Then he saw something odd—were the walls swaying? “I'm going to put you down and untie you, but don't leave immediately, okay? It's dangerously bright outside with the glare off the water, and you'll regret not letting yourself adjust slowly.”

“Where am I?” Derek felt himself placed on the ground. Whatever was binding his feet had uncoiled, and now the silk tying his wrists behind him was doing the same.

“A storage cabinet. I'm going to open the door a crack—my recommendation is to look at the indirect light on the walls first, let yourself adjust, then push the door open little by little. Once you've adjusted to the brightest light on the walls in here, then you should be able to bear turning around and going into the main cabin.”

Derek's eyes burned when the slit of blazing white light hit the back wall. He turned away from it, looking at the darkest part of the cabinet.

“Can I ask where you got a rental that included a boat?” Derek asked, squinting at the wall.

“We'll talk when you're ready to come out,” the voice answered. “Give your eyes some time—they haven't seen anything more than a dim glow for three days.” So the last time he saw light was three days. It wasn't as long as he figured.

He was still trying to make sense of why he was here. Asking didn't help—the clothes seemed to offer information of some kind for just about everything except motivation. The days before the kidnapping were still fuzzy for him, but the casual nature of his captors on the boat reminded him of the first couple of days after Jackie's clothes came to life.

 

three weeks ago

Jackie's things were all over him every second they had the chance. Her leather gloves, for instance, had taken it upon themselves to hide in the couch cushions.

“I'm going to make tea, you want a cup?” Jackie asked.

“Uh, yeah...sure.” Derek answered. He was ready for it as soon as she left, but he didn't know where it would come from. A glove shot out from between the cushions and filled out to the contours of a hand. He tried to grab at it, but it was too fast. It gripped his wrist and pulled him forward. After being yanked off of the couch, he felt the other glove grip his ass. “Hey, hey...” Derek said quietly as he landed on his hands and knees. The glove around his wrist moved between his legs and slapped his ass.

Before he could react, both gloves pulled at the waistband of his pants, throwing him back onto the couch. Now they were at the front of his pants, unbuttoning them.

“I don't think you should--” Derek's whisper was halted with an invisible mouth kissing his. One of the leather gloves stroked him through his underwear. He shuddered. His hands were held back by his own shirtsleeves as he tried to reach for the gloves. By now there was no point in fighting them, but he still made a few token objections. Somehow, no matter what he did, they were always able to sense when Jackie was coming.

After a few seconds they dove back into the couch cushions. Derek felt the lips let up on him. When he could move his hands again, he found that his pants were already zipping themselves back up unassisted. He let out a sign just before Jackie walked back into the room again.

“You okay, hon?” Jackie asked, seeing Derek's red face. He shrugged.

“I'm fine,” Derek said, half-laughing. “I just remembered something I forgot to do at work.”

And on it went. Soon he'd be so used to it that he wouldn't even look flustered when Jackie got back into the room. It was mostly harmless grab-ass and submission games. A few days after Derek was aware of them, they had to seriously make their authority clear. It only took once. He boldly threatened to expose them, and they indifferently reminded him how simple it would be to lose control of his car and go on an off-road adventure.

No one would be hurt, they promised, except his reputation. And if he wished to continue asserting his pretension of control, they would show him just how easy it would be for a “man in control” to—from an outsiders perspective—lose all touch with reality.

“But why would you do that to me?” Derek asked Jackie's robed outfit, standing in front of him with sleeves at its hips.

“Darling, we wouldn't need to do that to you unless you decided to do something silly like try and expose us,” The outfit stepped forward, raising an invisible sleeve to Derek and placing an invisible hand on his chest. “You've been a very good boy for the last couple of days, so you're the last person that should be worrying about it. Keep cooperating, keep the passive-aggressive comments to a minimum, and just try and enjoy yourself.”

Derek couldn't help but let out something between a sigh and a sneer. And did they say last person? He was smart enough to realize that whatever force he was dealing with couldn't be tricked; it couldn't be resisted or overpowered—and it would be easy for them to make him appear insane. What else could he do but cooperate?

The outfit lifted its other sleeve. Invisible fingers found Derek's nipples beneath his t-shirt.

“Are you going to say you haven't liked what we've done so far?”

It would be a lie. He did like it. It's what made his cooperation that much harder for him, though: why was this force (why were these forces, for all he knew) pawing all over him every second? By now, the purpose of the clothing made sense as a hypothesis: these things didn't seem to have physical 'bodies'. They couldn't be seen, but based on their ability to touch Derek and manipulate any object in the room without a clear form, they seemed to occupy the space around him. Derek assumed that the clothing was used to give him some anthropomorphic analog. It still didn't explain why they were here with him.

Derek's head was tilted toward the outfit by unseen hands.

“Answer, please.”

“Well, of course I like it,” Derek admitted. The outfit leaned in. By now he knew when invisible lips were approaching his own. The kiss lasted a few seconds, finishing with hands running down Derek's back and grabbing his ass. He and the outfit lifted off the ground for a second, and the outfit disengaged Derek when they landed. “Haven't you noticed that I've done nothing but give in to you?”

“That's why you're a gem among rocks, Derek.”

They were nice to him when he cooperated, but they also became bolder, more adventurous. It was an ugly catch. If he resisted, they stepped things up to keep him in his place. If he cooperated, they stepped things up because he indulged them.

Derek was in the kitchen after midnight, grabbing a glass of water. As he headed toward the cupboard, it opened itself. A glass hovered out a little faster than he'd have liked.

“Hey--” Derek's objection was broken by unseen lips against his. He looked down to see one of Jackie's chemises—ivory with black lace trim—slowly pressing itself against him. He felt his dick jump a little in response, and he pulled back from the lips. “I was just getting some wa—” he was quieted again when the chemise shifted; what felt like a finger rested against his lips.

“And I guess I caught you at just the right time,” The smooth, commanding voice said. “You'll get your water when I get this.” He felt a tug at his robe down below. He looked down at the curves of the chemise, filling out the demi-cups and tapering down to a shapely torso. When he looked inside the seemingly empty negligee, he saw a pair of black lacy panties floating inside the chemise, around its lower hem. They were comfortably wrapped around fertile hips—and the dim light that was usually left on all night spilled through the translucent material, allowing Derek to see everything. He wrapped his arms around the chemise and parted his lips again, searching for the ethereal mouth somewhere above Jackie's enchanted lingerie.

“Now, that's a good boy,” The voice said, dripping with lust. A mouth met his own and began looping its tongue around his. As Derek relaxed, he felt himself lift into the air with the chemise. Shortly after, he felt two more sets of lips at his feet? While he was still lingually locked with the mouth above the chemise, he looked around him as best he could. There were no other clothes around—just the silky ivory form he was embracing. But, without a doubt—there were mouths at his toes, alternating between sucking and licking. As he let his expectations go, invisible hands slid up his legs, going under his robe, which lifted up on his sides. They weren't interested in speaking at length or explaining this time. They were going to take.

The hovering glass pressed against the water dispenser in the fridge, turning it on. Derek was paying more attention to the sash of his robe. It untied without his assistance, and the robe flew open. As a soft hand cradled around his package, another played with his ass. The sensations directed his attention away from the sash ends coiling around his upper arms.

The chemise pulled away from his embrace just enough to let the sash ends slide up his arms. They coiled tightly near his elbows and pulled his arms back. He went with the pull of the sash. Knowing what it was up to, he eased his hands behind his back and held them there. One end of the sash coiled around his wrists as the other gently patted him or the rear.

“Soooo cooperative.” The voice reverberated passion, and he felt cool fingers grip his stiffening manhood. As soon as his hands were secured behind him by the sash, two more virtual sets of lips were at his nipples. With the chemise floating before him at an arm's length, he looked down at his own flesh being worked over by phantom fingers, lips and tongues.

Even if he pretended to resist verbally, the gesture would be pretty empty. Every encounter he had with this force made his body increasingly betray him. He was getting used to the attention—beginning to crave it. It wouldn't be long before they'd trained his less rational head like a Pavlovian dog; soon the first detection of the feminine phantoms' presence would stir him to rigidity.

He was hard as steel after the teasing, phantom hand-job. A last set of lips wrapping around his throbbing cock to replace the invisible hand made him bigger and harder. For the next fifteen minutes, he was theirs. No commentary. No resistance. He was free of gravity in the dark kitchen, being groped and licked in more places than he could keep track of. All he could do was watch his cock move and shift with the sensations of the invisible mouth surrounding him.

“Wait until I tell the girls about this one,” the voice said as Derek inched closer to orgasm. “You're never going to have a waking moment alone again. You know that, don't you, Derek?” Unstoppable supernatural sex was all Derek had his mind on at this point anyway, but the confident purr of the voice occupying Jackie's lingerie was what finally set him off. When the release came, the invisible mouth at his tip happily sucked him clean. He didn't understand where the semen disappeared to, or how.

It ended as abruptly as it began. Derek was placed back on the ground, his wobbly post-coital frame supported by his robe, properly tied around him again. The water glass floated in front of him, waiting for him to grasp it. Just before he did, he heard the voice whisper in a dark, soothing intonation.

“You like it when I take.”

Derek took the glass, drinking from it. He didn't want to insult or encourage, but there just wasn't any message that wouldn't do one or the other. He smiled as he walked out of the kitchen toward the stairs.

“I'm glad,” the voice added.

 

two weeks ago

His steady submission earned him some cooperation on the part of the clothes, but not much. When Jackie had an 8-to-8 shift on Saturday, it was up to Derek to straighten up the house and prepare dinner. He made it a point to wake up when she did; this way he'd have some time before ethereal hands and possessed clothes directed his every action. Besides, she'd gotten home late last night, and he had a surprise he wanted to show her.

“You'll call me, right?” Derek asked as Jackie sipped coffee. “Let me know when you're on your way back from work so I can start dinner?”

“Sure thing, babe.” She finished what was in her mug. Derek sipped his own coffee, sitting in front of his laptop. “You're up early on a Saturday.”

“Yeah, it's gonna be a busy day,” Derek sneered.

“Well, sometime along your busy day, get the laundry together? I'll drop it off tomorrow.”

“Ah—that's right,” Derek smirked. “You haven't been in the laundry room since yesterday, have you?”

“You got the washer fixed?” She beamed. Derek shook his head.

“Just go look.” Derek smiled. Jackie giggled, running out of the kitchen. She let out a shriek.

“New washer AND dryer?” Jackie called back from the room. She came running back out and almost tackled Derek with a hug. “How much did you spend?”

“Don't worry about it. Our dryer was on its last leg anyway...thing was a hand me down from my parents' house. The installers handled disposal and everything, so—” Jackie planted a kiss on him.

“I was getting tired of lugging those clothes around to be washed.” Derek chuckled to himself. Jackie's clothes were getting sick of being lugged around too. There were complaints of strangers handling them, a distaste for the laundromat, and even veiled threats about using Derek's card to buy a top of the line commercial washer all by themselves. He really didn't have a choice in the matter. A new washer was the demand; he obeyed and went a step farther. “Alright, I've got to get out of here, or I'm going to be late. I look okay?” Derek smiled at her.

“You look great.” He was looking her in the eyes when he said it, and she responded with another kiss. “You always look great in that uniform.” She shoved him away playfully.

“Dork.” She gave him a quick hug. “Gotta go. I love you.” She gave him a final peck on the cheek and headed out the kitchen and toward the front door.

“Love you too,” Derek waved.

“And honey?” She held the door open. Derek looked up at her. “Jackie is very happy with you.” She grinned as she shut the door. Derek smirked back.

“Some-one's-gett-ing-laid-to-night,” a soft voice sang, descending the stairs. Jackie's satin pajamas rounded the corner and faced Derek. “I guess we'd better leave some of you for when she gets home.”

“Well, hi.” Derek said. “You're talking to me again?” The pajamas ran over to him and draped their sleeves around him, wrapping him up in soft, purple satin.

“Of course I am. You kept your promise.” A sleeve wrapped around Derek's arm and pulled him into the living room.

“What are you doing?” Asked an indignant voice back in the hall. “Don't think you're going to monopolize him all morning.” Derek peeked out and saw Jackie's silky pink robe draped around the watching camisole and panty set. The white sheer stockings caught up with the rest of the outfit a second later. Derek couldn't help but laugh.

“All the pajamas ever want to do is snuggle,” The robed outfit approached Derek with a sultry, hip-shaking walk. “You want to do more than snuggle, don't you?”

“I, uh--” Derek stuttered as the outfit stepped closer, wedging him between it and the wall.

“It's my turn,” The pajamas said, coming back out into the hall. “You get to take him on joyrides every night. Give me one morning.” The robed outfit stepped away from Derek and toward the pajamas.

“You don't know what you're talking about. It's that lace and silk tramp that steals him away in the middle of the night.” The robe extended a sleeve toward Derek, and he felt an invisible hand pull the collar of his shirt toward the camisole's spread. “Isn't that right, Derek?” Another invisible hand tousled his hair. “Tell her.” Derek closed his eyes and felt the fingers weave through his locks.

“She's right,” Derek said. “It's the ivory chemise.” The pajama outfit crossed its arms. “The first time, I was just up to get a glass of water, but lately she's been pulling me out of bed sometime in the middle of the night and—you know. Sometimes she doesn't even bother waking me up.”

“Oh, those nights are the best,” said another voice descending the stairs. “I love the thought that a man's basic primal desires can be roused even while he's sleeping...” The ivory silk and black lace chemise came entered the hall. Matching ivory gloves flanked its sides, and black thigh-high stockings descended into a pair of glossy black pumps.

They weren't even touching him, and it was kicking in. His body expected it. They had 12 hours, and they were going to use every second.

“I think we should be democratic about this,” The silk and lace chemise said. “I know I've been hogging him at night, and you two have both had your share of his attention—but now that this has become a regular occurrence, everyone else wants in on the fun.”

“Uh, wait a minute—” Derek stuttered. “What do you mean...everyone?” The outfit stepped in front of him, and one of the ivory gloves grabbed his hair and directed his mouth to a pair of invisible lips above the chemise. Derek wrapped his arms around the chemise and pulled it toward him. One of the stocking legs lifted up, carrying the black pump with it. It curled around his leg, the heel digging into the back of his calf. The ivory glove pulled his hair harder as its twin began exploring the waistband of his sleep pants.

“We mean everyone,” the chemise said while its invisible lips continued kissing Derek. “Her panties, her bras, her socks, her shoes, her stockings, sweaters, pants, boots, gloves and toys...they've all heard how good you are at playing.”

“From who?” Derek managed to say between kisses. He watched as the Ivory glove slip into his pants. It played with his ass for a second before teasing the back of his balls with a satin fingertip. Derek let out a pleasurable exclamation.

“From us, lover,” The pink robe said, pressing up against his side. He felt a velvety tongue slide up his ear.

“Well, it's nice of you ladies to think sensibly instead of selfishly,” The purple satin pajamas said. Derek, still being barraged with kisses, looked over at the collar of the pajamas that usually played his advocate. “I agree with them. You've gotten used to be being shared by a few of us, but you really ought to make it clear that you're in the service of all of Jackie's things.” The pajamas approached him on his free side, and now all three outfits were pressed against him as he tried to withdraw from the mouth kissing him.

“In service of?” He managed to say before the invisible lips pressed against his own again. He heard three distinct laughs coming from all around him.

“Oh, please,” The pink robe and camisole set said. “You already knew that part.” Derek felt the ivory glove in his pants squeeze one of his cheeks.

“Let's go upstairs now, Derek,” The chemise said. The outfit stepped away from him, leaving the ivory satin gloves behind. The two other outfits followed, and the ivory gloves pulled on the waistband of his sleep pants. Derek followed willingly behind. As the soft feminine curves of his girlfriend's magic clothing swished in front of him, his cock was starting to stiffen. The satin glove in his pants wasn't helping.

When they approached the stairs, the satin gloves pulled out of Derek's pants and sailed up to the next floor by themselves. The outfit in front of him, the pink robe, camisole and panties, turned around and pressed against his body, wrapping its sleeve under his arms and around his torso.

“Don't bother yourself walking up all these stairs,” the lusty voice said as a tongue darted into his mouth. His body was pulled toward the outfit, and he was thrown off balance. He fell forward, and something lifted him up between his legs. He looked down as best he could through the aggressive mouth kissing him, and whatever was holding his legs up spread them apart. It took him a second to realize that it was actually a phantom pair of legs, not just some abstract pushing and pulling. His own legs were resting on fully-formed invisible thighs.

As he sailed up the stairs suspended atop the invisible form in the silky pink outfit, he felt the waistband of his sleep pants slowly pulling themselves down over his rigid cock. He muffled a moan through the kissing as his member rested between two silky invisible thighs. He couldn't see them, but he could see the subtle shifts in his cock as they contracted, squeezing gently around him. He managed to get the mouth to stop for a second.

“I—I can feel your legs,” Derek whispered. “What's behind the panties?”

“Something that could be very dangerous to you,” The pink outfit sang, wrapping its sleeves around Derek's head and pulling him into her invisible mouth again. Derek let the tongue part his lips, and raspberry entered his mouth. He let out a grunt of approval as the silk sleeves moved down over the sides of his head, equally silky invisible fingers tracing over his earlobes.

Derek felt the invisible legs beneath him open. His cock slowly rose against the warm, unseen body until it met against the underside of the pink silk panties.

“Dangerous how?” He asked. His answer was having his mouth engulfed with a slippery raspberry tongue again. There was always a sense of nectar about the phantom kisses he'd been receiving, but the flavor had never been so deliberate, so powerful. It was the only answer he'd get.

Derek hovered into the bedroom, his arms wrapped around the robe. It hovered upright again, and as Derek felt his toes against the floor, he instinctively tried to plant his feet. The robe set him down, his sleep pants still around his ankles as his member stood at full attention. One of the sleeves moved toward his waist, and Derek barked as in invisible hand tightened around him.

“He plays his role very well...” The outfit said.

“Look at him,” The purple pajamas answered. “He's going to be so happy.” Derek was a little more than concerned about that kind of talk, but the invisible lips pressed firmly against his once more. He felt the cups of the camisole press against him, and the hand around his penis moved down the shaft and scooped beneath his balls. He tried to talk anyway, in a muffled, oversexed mumble.

“mmmee-haafffy-wiff-wuutt?” A few seconds after Derek attempted to ask, the silky raspberry lips disengaged, giving him a final peck on the cheek. A slow, dominating yank on his hair pulled his head back.

“There was a reason I wasn't letting you get those words out, cutey.” The pink outfit said. “You need to comply with actions, not just verbal requests.” Derek was hesitant to respond. This attitude was becoming a little more prevalent with this particular outfit lately, but Derek hoped the pajamas would intercede like usual. His thoughts were interrupted with a soft voice right at his ear. “Do you understand, Derek?”

“I understand,” He said. He let out a sound as his hair was pulled harder.

“I understand, mistress.” The whisper corrected. Derek hesitated again, waiting for the nicer outfits to say something. When they didn't, he tried to look to his side. His hair was released, and the hand at his balls slid back up his shaft and squeezed it tenderly. “Say it.” Derek let out a sound in pleasant surprise, attempting to stifle himself midway.

“I understand, mistress,” Derek answered.

“That's good, Derek.” The pajamas approached, putting a sleeve over his shoulder. “Now all you have to do is show the same cooperation and respect to all of us, and you'll keep being rewarded.”

Cooperation and respect. In service of. All of us. Derek wasn't a complete fool. They'd been leading him in this direction all along, training him. Ghostly seduction. Flesh he could feel, but not see. Jackie's externalized essence all around him, pushing him and pulling him. He was addicted. The ivory chemise was right. He liked it when they took.

 

the present

The door was open all the way, and glittering waves of light danced against the walls. Derek's eyes were still acclimating to the light, but he was getting impatient, and he could see well enough. He was clad in a simple t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts—the same kind of outfit he'd been kidnapped, undressed, and redressed in during the last three days.

The presence had left him alone for more than a few minutes now, and outside of sleeping, he couldn't remember the last time they let him have this much time to do solitary thinking. A rush of fear went through him: what if it had actually left him alone, adrift at sea?

He still wasn't ready to walk out into the main cabin, but he did it anyway. Light poured in from all sides, and the glare—though dimmed by the sun glass—turned his eyes to slits again. This was no boat. It was a yacht. He had no idea how big, but the “storage cabin” in which he sat comfortably for the last fifteen or twenty minutes couldn't have made up a tenth of the interior space. He had a seat on a bench in the main cabin and shaded his eyes from the light, looking down at the floor.

“I told you to take your time, Derek.” He lifted his head, but didn't see any clothes in the cabin moving around on their own. “Don't bother—there's nothing for you to see right now. Let your eyes keep adjusting.”

“What time is it?” He asked.

“It's almost 6 p.m.” The sun was streaming through the smoky glass at the bow, which meant they were still moving seaward. Try as he might, he couldn't piece together what was happening. A few subtle clues here and there about this coming adventure came across in his conversations with Jackie's clothes a few weeks ago, but hindsight being 20/20, he couldn't extrapolate any explanation for the boat.

He was nervous. The force doing all this was powerful—well...damn near omnipotent—but he hadn't even been outside the reach of human contact. Back home, Jackie would return from work every day. He always had a cell phone on him, not that it would've helped, but it was some kind of comfort in having the option to call someone raving like a maniac. Here, there was no option. The continental shelf was drifting farther away, and he was on the open sea.

“What's on your mind, lover?” Derek jumped a bit when fingers danced over his shoulder, then took a deep breath when two invisible hands began kneading the base of his neck. It was probably best to be honest. Not whiny or demanding or obsequious—just honest.

“Don't take this the wrong way—because you've given me no reason to think so at all—just take my paranoia with a grain of salt and try to see this situation from my perspective if you can when I--” The hands squeezed his shoulders, and a velvety touch brushed up against his ear.

“Don't sugar-coat it, babe,” The voice whispered. “I'm a big girl.”

“I'm anxious,” Derek finally said. “I'm nervous. I'm scared.” He expected the fingers working over his shoulders to stop, but they continued, so he went on. “And if you're just having fun with me—which seems to be your general mood—then I'm afraid I'm going to be pretty disappointing until I get a few answers.” He stopped again, but the fingers went on, showing no signs their controller was offended.

“Go on,” the voice said gently.

“I don't need to know any specifics if you don't want to give them. Just a few yeses or nos. Is that okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” The voice was still soft. The hands worked over his back now. The tension in his body was loosening up.

“Is Jackie okay?”

“Certainly,” the voice answered. That was a relief.

“Is she worried about me?”

“Not really...” She trailed off, looking for the right words. “...but don't take that in a bad way. I can't quite explain yet.” That was frustrating, but he decided against a follow up. She was giving him a couple straight answers, and he didn't want to waste the opportunity.

“Are you bringing me somewhere in particular?”

The hands went on untying knots in his back, but the voice didn't respond immediately. Just before Derek wondered if he'd asked the wrong question, he heard a sly laugh.

“Yes, lover. Very particular.” The hands moved toward his sides, tracing over his ribs until the fingers worked their way toward his pecs. He looked at the indentations moving over his shirt, corresponding to the ethereal touch melting his anxiety away. “And don't let our current locale fool you, because our destination has nothing to do with solitude.”

Damn. Mystery after mystery. Still, despite not getting any real information about what was happening, he trusted the voice when it said Jackie was okay. He also trusted that she wasn't in despair over him. His faith in his invisible, (sometimes) intangible captor was renewed, and certainly not because the caresses he was feeling were too good to be malevolent. No.

Instead, it was a sense of utility. Derek had nothing of value to offer this supernatural feminine force—other than, of course, what he'd already been giving. In that light, however strange the circumstances, it made sense that this was nothing more than entertainment for her. Judging by what he'd seen of the seemingly endless resources and abilities available to his captor, that was his only explanation.

Maybe he'd wake up anytime, sleeping next to Jackie in the early dawn light...not to say this wasn't happening. He'd already established (over and over again) that his thoughts over a matter of weeks had been too coherent and consistent for him to be dreaming. But with all its abilities, maybe this force could snap Derek back home anytime it wanted. Maybe, as she'd assured him, there was nothing to worry about at all.

“One more?” He asked. The voice giggled in response.

“One more. But I've got a lot to show you, so don't spoil your appetite.” Her teasing answers were absolutely cruel, wrapped in clues so sticky-sweet that Derek had no idea what to expect.

“Am I going to like it?”

A pair of invisible arms threw themselves around his shoulders, and he felt a peck on his cheek. He turned toward where he thought the phantom mouth was, but found nothing but air. The waistband on his athletic shorts slowly pulled itself down over his hips.

“Have I shown you anything you haven't liked?”