This story - written for day 14 of Kinktober 2023 - contains bondage, humiliation, and sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.
With a little squeak of extra effort, you manage to crowbar open the window, and look over in triumph at your accomplice. He shrugs his shoulders, as if to say, what do you want, a medal? You shake your head in frustration. What an annoying man he is.
To be honest, he's been irritating you from the start. Why, for example, did he insist on you wearing this ultra-tight black PVC catsuit? That's what burglars wear, he said. But when you turned up for the job, you saw that
he
was wearing a black sweater and dark jeans. He probably thinks women are sex objects for men's pleasure. Or maybe he just likes to see your lovely breasts and bum squeezed into the figure-hugging material - and no wonder, considering how beautiful you are.
You slip through the window, no doubt giving your accomplice - his name is Doug, by the way - an eyeful of your pert ass. Then you drop soundlessly into the room and look around for danger. You're a professional.
"There's no need to worry, sweetheart," Doug laughs as he follows you in more casually. "I made sure there's no one here. You look good on your knees, but you might as well get up."
You scowl. He's been like this the whole time.
Flashlights flicking from side to side, the two of you make your way through the darkened house. You're walking carefully, partly because you're worried about being heard, and partly because Doug persuaded you to wear a pair of towering high-heeled black leather boots and it's difficult to keep your balance. But he's swaggering along without a care in the world. You're not sure why he's so bold, so utterly fearless, and part of you finds that side of his personality appealing. But then you remember how badly he treats you and how much you hate him.
Doug, who did the research for this job and appears to know the layout of the house like the back of his hand, leads you to the library, an enormous room that extends upwards into the second floor. There must be 5,000 books in here, and you're momentarily distracted by envy. You'd love a place like this.
"If you can tear yourself away from the library for just a moment, bookworm," Doug says, sneering, "I'd appreciate your help getting into the safe."
You frown at his rudeness, but do as you're told nonetheless, kneeling down in front of the safe - which isn't easy in this outfit, the PVC creaking and stretching across your firm, lithe body - and examining its mechanism.
"Easy," you say, unable to stop yourself from looking at Doug for approval, like a schoolgirl who's done her homework. "I can have this open in five minutes."
"You'll have it open in three, or I'll spank you," he laughs, strolling off to look at the books he mocked you for liking. God, you hate him.
Fortunately, you're an exceptional cracker, and the door soon swings open. Doug is instantly at your side, reaching past you rudely to grab the bundle of documents inside. He's preoccupied with the papers, and doesn't seem aware of how close you are, but you're annoyed to realise that being pressed against his muscular body is turning you on. Just a little, but enough to be distracting.
"Yes... yes, this is what we need," he says eventually. "This will make me a very rich man."
You flash him a smile, wondering if he might start treating you better now he has what he wants.
"And me a very rich woman," you remind him.
"You're not a woman, you're a slip of a girl. And you don't need money. You can just ask your boyfriends to buy you a present."
"My love life is none of your business!" you cry, outraged. "And we agreed to split the money."
"I've decided to renegotiate."
Your stomach lurches with shock as you notice the revolver in his hand. You know he wasn't carrying a gun before. It must have been in the safe.
"Be a good girl, and this doesn't need to turn ugly. I don't want to hurt you."
"The hell you don't! What do you want to do?"
"Oh, nothing much. I thought I might tie you up."
"Tie me up?! Why?"
Doug sighs.
"Well obviously I'm not going to pay you your fair share. You'd only waste it on shoes, or jewellery, or a silly PVC catsuit."
"You told me to wear this!"
"And you did exactly what you were told. What a delightfully obedient little wench you are."
You're speechless with fury. That rotten, slimy, no-good, sexist -
"Which is how I know you're going to be obedient now. Starting with crossing your wrists behind your back."
"And what if I say no?"
"I don't think you're the type of girl to say no," he laughs. "But if you insist, I will reluctantly shoot you in your pretty little head and leave your body here for the police to find. Don't worry, there's nobody close enough to hear."
You look at the gun, then back at Doug's face. He's serious. You knew he was a bastard, but you never dreamed he'd betray you like this.
"Okay, let's say I let you tie me up. What next?"
"I just need you out of the way long enough for me to skip town with the money. I'll let one of your boyfriends know where to find you. You'll be bound and helpless for a couple of hours, tops."
You bite your lip, trying to think.
"Fine," you say, turning away from him and crossing your wrists behind your back. Then you blush, remembering his description of you: a delightfully obedient little wench. That's exactly what you are. "Tie me up if it makes you happy. But I'll get my revenge on you eventually, Doug."
