Sean's Wet Dream
OK. Monday night, usual routine: get to the pool at about nine o'clock, shouldn't be too many people left by that time and they never lock up before ten. Sean was dedicated to his training but he really didn't like sharing the pool so he always tried to go early in the morning before college or late at night on the graveyard shift when there wouldn't be too many other punters to share his water.
Sean jogged to the local swimming baths, his demeanour improving every time he passed anyone whom he recognised as a regular as they returned from their evening swim. He climbed the front steps and, by the time he had shown his pass and reached the changing rooms he had stripped off his back pack ready to lodge it on a handy bench.
He opened the pack and from it he extracted a pair of socks, a pair of white Calvin Kleins and a clean light blue t-shirt for the walk home - and a "Mars" bar.
The county champion at the 1500 m freestyle stripped the sodden short-sleeved shirt from his back, kicked off his Nike trainers and stepped out of his khaki cargo shorts. He adjusted himself inside his rather too tight blue swim briefs, where his bits had slipped down during his run, and inspected himself in the mirror.
He approved of what he saw.
Sean went through the compulsory shower and foot-bath on his way to the pool, walked to the edge, dived in and enjoyed the increasingly sparsely populated water for a good 45 minutes before getting out. He shook his mane of reddish hair and made for the changing room.
Sean took his towel from the hook where he had hung it but, before he could make for the cold shower, he found himself unexpectedly unable to move. Whoever had grabbed him was enormous and smelt like a bad night at the fish-quay. Fit as he was, the champion swimmer was powerless against the giant who was applying the sleeper hold scientifically until he passed out.
When the young swimmer came round again and his vision had cleared, he saw her standing there: Ginny. She was known as Virginia Creeper, she tried to cling closer to any available athlete than Sean's purple swimming costume was clinging to him at the time. He wasn't the only local sportsman to have rejected her rapacious advances during the recent weeks.
The swimmer's eyes widened as he saw her voracious eyes closely examining his helplessly bound body. He could hardly even roll over so that his somewhat impressive assets were no longer on such prominent display. Looking round, he could no longer see his socks, and what appeared to be a shredded portion of his t-shirt had been dropped on the floor. Sean thought he knew where his socks were as soon as he tried to speak. He couldn't yet be sure what was holding them in place but, whenever he looked down, there was certainly a light blue hue to whatever it was.
"You've met Eric the Caretaker before; bet you didn't know he was my uncle, did you, cute buns?"
Just then the bear-like caretaker reappeared. "OK, Ginny, happy birthday, girl. Here's the keys. Don't forget to lock up after you, will you? I don't want to find your boyfriend still here in the morning. Until then, what you do is up to you. He always was a cocky little sod. Have fun." With that Eric disappeared with a double click of his tongue and a wink in Sean's direction.
"Ooooh!", shrieked an over-exited Ginny, "I love presents, especially when they're so well-wrapped, but this one's got a bit too much wrapping. Now, where did I put them?"
When he saw the scissors coming out of Ginny's bag, Sean's eyes opened even wider. As she approached him, it didn't seem to be the ropes that she was going to cut.