With trembling fingers I slid the remains of my jeans off my hips and revealed my red satin panties. I had purchased them as a surprise for a former boyfriend, but the night I'd worn them we'd wound up breaking up. Hence I've always called them my "bad luck" panties. Boy...they were REAL bad luck tonight!
They were, however, extremely attractive bad luck panties. They had a narrow band of scarlet satin that covered my goodies then traveled up and around my hips in a silky V shape, then down in the back to disappear inside my ass crack. The rest of the fabric was brilliant red lace. Like I said, really pretty, but not practical or comfortable. Frankly, I'd only worn them because I need to do laundry.

As I stood there in front of my kidnapper, I clenched my fists at my sides, my knees wobbling in fear and exhaustion. My stomach and arms were covered with scrapes and bruises from the rough trip in the van, but my full breasts (c cups) stood firm and proud as always. I've always been rather vain about my breasts, I can admit it. They're just the right shape and size, and capped in dusky nipples that were rising in the cool air of the room.

I could feel my long, straight black hair brushing my lower back as I turned my eyes back to my captor. My full lips parted as though to whisper something, but I closed them again, fearing the repercussions of speaking out of turn.

Shivering from head to toe, and not just from the cold, I awaited with trepidition what would come next.