Snatched

There was some type of click-click noise followed by a muffled cry, Ekaterina’s body under Tom shifted sideways, nearly throwing him off.

“What the?” Tom exclaimed, rolling to his right. Immense weight pressed down on him, hard, smothering him before something soft and supple enveloped him, the smell of leather filling his nostrils.

Trying to squawk protest, Tom struggled against the force holding him fast. There was movement, his body ascending rapidly, the quick motion making him queasy. What was happening? Abruptly he was no longer constrained, sprawling headlong into something hard and unyielding before there was a snapping sound, the jaws of a trap closing.

You have got to be frigging kidding me!” Tom yelled, bouncing ass over teakettle around the blackness inside of some type of container. “Come on!”

The jostling continued for several more minutes followed by a handful of intermittent periods of inactivity.

Was he being abducted again? This time from his abductors? Unbelievable. Who does that? Letting out a heavy sigh, all he could do was wait.

Unlike the last time, the wait this go round was much shorter, no more than an hour before the case he was in opened. As before, it was an unknown woman who greeted him. This one maybe thirty, dressed in business attire, a Mona Lisa type smile playing on her lips. She wore her light brown hair drawn back into a semi bun of sorts, soft blue eyes alive as she studied him.

“Well look at you Thomas,” she commented, arching an eyebrow, wisp of a smile still dancing on her pale lips.

Spreading his hands, he smiled back. There were inside the cabin of a small jet and he was standing on a polished wooden table. “And you are?” he inquired.

“For the sake of conviviality, you may call me Mrs. Green,” she replied.

“Fine, Mrs. Green. Care to enlighten me as to our destination?” he asked, glancing around the interior of the plane.

“Sweden,” she answered.

“Sweden?”

She raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly.

“Back to the institute?”

She nodded again, “Not just another pretty face, but there is a little brain in your tiny head,” she commented.

Tom frowned, “So you’re?”

“Taking you back to the Gustafson Institute. I just thought perhaps you might prefer to ride out in the open as opposed to inside that stuffy little box,” she shared, pink tongue peeking out as she touched it to her bottom lip.

Tom grinned. “What about Anastasia? Ekaterina? Natalya? Like what happened?” he asked.

“No one was harmed during your liberation,” she assured.

A pang in his stomach suddenly made him suspicious. Was this maybe just a ruse to meddle with his will, break him down a little more and make him more pliable? A pretend rescue? Glancing up to the oval window, it was dark outside. Were they really moving? “Is this a trick of some kind? Get my hopes up just to have them dashed before you have your way with me?”

Mrs. Green chuckled amusedly, “A very intriguing notion, but you can relax, I prefer my men to be a little older if not somewhat taller,” she replied, smile spreading on her face. “Maybe when you can legally have a drink or grow a moustache, who knows?”

Tom’s eyes narrowed as he nodded slowly.

Angling her head slightly to the side, “However, given how absolutely adorable you look, it’s a very interesting and intriguing notion though,” she murmured, nodding.

Recognizing the look, he changed the subject. “When do we land?” he questioned.

“Flight time is roughly two hours, so maybe about an hour forty-five from now,” she replied.

“And an hour by car to the clinic?”

Shaking her head, “No car for you tiny one, there will be a helicopter waiting for us at the airport to take us directly to the institute. You are what they call a HVA,” she stated, pointing a finger in his direction.

What did that mean? “HVA?”

“High value asset,” she explained

Sitting down, Tom nodded, “I guess that’s better than huge vagina adventurer or something. Hey, how did you find me so fast?” he asked, curious.

Mrs. Green chuckled and favored him with a smile, “I’m sorry, was I interrupting a special moment back there when I plucked you from atop that pretty little girl’s shorn mound?” she asked.

Scowling, “Ha ha,” he responded facetiously. What would Mrs. Green have done if he had been buried up inside Ekaterina pussy? Or worse, in that sadistic bitch Irina’s stomach? That would definitely have put a bit of a wrinkle on the whole rescue operation.

“Have you seen the muffin man?” she inquired in a teasing singsong voice.

“Muffin man? Oh wait, yeah, again hardy har har, I get it, because like her pussy is a muffin, or a whisker biscuit and I was right there,” he faked laughed, slapping his leg.

She chuckled, and spread her hands, “If the shoe fits, wait, you don’t have any shoes, or pants,” she added.

“Smart ass,” Tom chided, shaking her head and favoring her with a wry smile. He was of half a mind to unleash his smile on her, charm the pants off her, but given the volume of vagina he had seen in the last day, he refrained from commenting further.

She gave him a cheeky wink and a little half smile before leaning back in her seat.

“You still didn’t explain how you were able to locate me so quickly,” he commented.

“Didn’t I? How odd,” she said, facial expression bemused.

How had they found him? Was there some type of tracer on him, maybe a radioactive signature from the shrinking device? “No, you didn’t,” he asserted.

Grin widening, “Oh well,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

“Huh,” he noised, mouth folding up as he gave her a bit of a glower.

Leaning forward, elbows on her knees, “So what were they doing with you back there, I mean how come you’re skin looks so pink?” she questioned, a glint of mischief in her eye.

“Sorry, that’s classified,” he responded, turning away and waving a dismissive hand.

“Operation Pussy Galore,” she said with a giggle.

Getting the reference, Tom shook his head, “Easy there Goldfinger,” he replied, employing a very good Sean Connery.

Touching her right index finger to her lips, “I’m curious, how ‘in depth’ did you actually get?”

Normally, this is where Tom would ply his charm but he was so tired, “Not very, I don’t know,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders, downplaying his recent escapades.

She angled her head slightly to the side, “I bet it wouldn’t really take all that much to take your whole little body up inside there, hmm, I wonder,” she mused thoughtfully.

He made a scoffing sound, shaking his head before embellishing a huge yawn. Right now, he had no desire to educate her on what he could do or what things had been done to him.

She turned her left wrist and looked at her watch, “And only an hour and a half to kill before we land,” she commented.

He chuckled.

“Might make for an interesting way to smuggle you into the country,” she opined.

Was she being serious? Hadn’t she been sent to rescue him from this?

Almost as if reading his thoughts, she laughed aloud, “In another time maybe, but for now just get your rest tiny boy.”