Bound Gagged Blindfolded

Your world is dark. Is it too dark in this room? No, there's something over your eyes... you're blindfolded, with some kind of fabric. Your body is stiff, and you go to remove what's blocking your vision. Your hands go nowhere. They're bound above you, together.

You're upright, you know that because you feel as if you're dangling from your hands. Your knees are up at near chest level, but more binds keep them spread apart. Thank god you can still feel you're clothed, but you've never felt this vulnerable, for good reason. You cry for help, but the fabric you find in your mouth prevents you from making much of a sound.

You whimper softly as feeling starts to return to my appendages, and you feel the bindings cutting uncomfortably into your wrists. Carefully, you test out the restraints, hoping to find a weakness somewhere, but no such luck - they are extremely secure. Clearly whoever did this knew what he was doing... and has possibly done it a dozen times before.

Panic begins to creep into your mind, your breath coming in small little gasps. You're so caught up in your attempt to escape, your fear of what might happen to you, that you nearly don't hear the soft sound of footsteps approaching. When you do, you immediately freeze, holding your breath as your head twitches slightly toward the direction of the sound, listening for more.

The footsteps stop.

Whoever is here is quiet about it. Maybe he's been in the room the whole time. How big is the room? You can feel him watching you; you feel like nothing more than an object to this person. This continues for a bit, but you're becoming too afraid to move, to do anything but wait.

It's nearly a relief when this person again walks toward you, just to end the suspense, but your heart is pounding in your chest. A hand grabs you around your throat, under your chin, and you think this person may choke you. But your head is simply moved about... is he examining you? It must be a man, his hand is so rough, and of course only a man would do something like this to you. You resist but his strength is overwhelming, and what can you do other than try to move your head? You begin to whimper under his grip.

The hand releases your neck, and returns to you by grabbing your hair at the scalp and yanking back, holding your head there. You cry in pain into your gag, but he doesn't seem to care, or even acknowledge it. A finger from another hand lightly touches your throat, trailing downwards slowly until it hooks the button of your blouse. In one swift tug, he's ripped the blouse open from it's buttons. You feel the cool air against the exposed skin of your stomach, your breasts heaving in your bra as your breath comes in gasps.

A muffled high-pitched cry of surprise escapes you, as your shirt is torn off and you're exposed. Immediately self-conscious, you try to twist in an attempt to block your chest from view, but the firm grip in your hair keeps you still. The steady sound of breathing comes from your captor as you are once again examined like an object. Tears fill your eyes, but are absorbed into the blindfold before they can fall. You whimper, desperately wanting to communicate, to have the opportunity to ask this stranger what he wants, or beg for mercy.

The hand in your hair holds continues to hold your head in place. His other hand is softly exploring your stomach, your chest, the parts of your breasts that are exposed. His touch may be nice, if you couldn't sense the uncaring in it, the coldness.

He releases your hair, and walks a few steps away. Then you hear a new sound, a familiar sound of metal on metal. Are those... scissors?

Your question is confirmed as he comes back. He grabs the hem of your pants, and you start to shake your head no, whimpering. You feel the cold metal slide between the pants and your skin, and you feel your clothing begin to loosen. Oh, god, he's cutting off your pants. Your right leg is exposed first, followed quickly by your left, and your left in your bra, panties, and your opened shirt. Goosebumps form on your skin as you continue to cry.

The tears now begin to slip past the blindfold and slide down your cheeks. Part of you hopes that he will see them and show some compassion, but he doesn't even seem to notice. Your whimpers get louder as you attempt to plead wordlessly, but those seem to be ignored as well. You struggle as much as the restraints will allow, but it isn't much. Never have you felt so helpless, so vulnerable, so terrified in your life. Strong hands continue to roam over your body. Although the touch is about as intimate as a doctor's exam, you still tense when the hands move up your thighs and between your legs, nothing but a thin piece of lace as a barrier

You're terrified, vulnerable... you just wish this was all over. Yet when this man touches your panties, you can tell you're wet. It makes you feel even more defeated, and it scares you that it will make this man want to explore that part of you. You don't know where he is going to end his examination at, what line he might draw, if any.

You barely hear the scissors again until you notice your shirt sliding away from you. You hang your head as that bit of protection slips away. Maybe your acceptance of this will please him, will make him content in seeing you in just a bra and panties. You pray he wont expose you any further as he begins to examine your back, sliding over every inch of exposed skin.

You hold your breath, and strain to hear something, anything that would give you more information on this. All you can hear is the sound of his hands sliding over your body, and his rhythmic, soft breathing. The faint sounds are far from comforting.

You remain still and obedient as long as possible, letting him touch you everywhere, but finally the suspense causes you to snap. A sharp muffled protest escapes your mouth and you jerk your body, clearly annoyed. You want to shout "If you're going to molest me, get it over with already!" But of course nothing comes out. You violently shake your head from side to side, trying to dislodge the blindfold, and at the same time, trying to spit out the gag in your mouth. Suddenly, your strong grip is on your throat again, and you stop your struggles, instantly worried you've angered him. You pant, slightly out of breath from your little tantrum, bracing yourself as you except a slap, a shout, something...

Yet nothing comes. The hand on your neck is filled with force, strength, and control. You're all but collared by his hand, terrified to do anything further. The seconds tick by, the silence is deafening.

Then the grip tightens.

The air is constricted, but more important, so is the blood flow. You choke and your world begins to dim, beings to fade away... Yet just before blacking out, the hand releases. Your world comes back in a rush, you gasp for air as best you can. Your senses come alive.

Was that... a punishment?

Then your bra gets ripped off your chest.

You start to thrash again as the bra is ripped off, and your breasts are exposed... but you quickly stop myself, not wanting to get choked again. You whimper pitifully as you do your best to remain still, while his hands explore the newly exposed flesh. You can't help but tense and flinch from your touch. While he is busy examining you further, you continue to try and get the blindfold off, desperate for any amount of vision. Amazingly, you manage to push the corner of one side up enough that you can sense some light, and get a glimpse of his large form, dressed in black, in front of you.

His touch has become rougher. As he explores your nipples, he roughly twists and pinches them. It makes you cry out but you try your best to contain it, not wanting him to know it hurts you, lest he punish you again. Nor do you want him to notice your small sliver of vision.

His form is imposing. You can't make out much in the way of features, as all the light is on you. But you can make out a silhouette, and you know he could control your body at will, even without the bondage. You try to make out his face, but all you can really see are his eyes, full of cold.

Then he notices. His eyes narrow.

He grabs your by your hair, and his other hand slaps you across the face, hard. Half a second later, he repeats the action, then several more times. Your skin is on fire, and you want to please him so he wont be mad at you anymore, so you accept it easily as he yanks the blindfold back over your eye.

This time his grip on your hair never loosens, and you feel him rip your panties from your waist. You have no more protection. You're fully nude and exposed in front of him, your legs spread to show your pussy. Anything he wants is clearly his, and he begins to examine your pussy and asshole, keeping your head angled towards the ceiling by a firm pulling of your hair.

His hand explores your clit, and you hate yourself for enjoying it. But he's gone from there too fast, clearly just examining his goods. Two of his fingers spread your pussy lips and slid along the inner edges of them. Then his fingers are inside you, all too easily from your wetness. They prod in each direction, then retract. With a quick whelp from you, the slickened fingers slid up your asshole, and repeat the procedure that you just felt in your pussy. He slides them out, lets go of your hair, and takes a step back to look at you one last time.

He finally speaks.

"You'll do."

You blink back tears of humiliation. You feel like livestock - being poked and prodded and examined before being deemed suitable. "You'll do"?? What the fuck does that mean? You can't help but wonder what the hell you've gotten trapped in. At first you thought you'd be raped and released, which would be horrible enough, but after the careful examination and declaration, you know this is no mere rape. You wonder briefly if he plans to sell you as a sex slave, frightened at the idea of being sold like an object, to the highest bidder. You remain still and silent, your head hanging, as if hiding your face from him will somehow make you invisible.

You hear a buzzing... And the sound of duct tape. An item is placed against the bottom of your abdomen, a device that hooks inwards at your clit, and you know what the buzzing is. The vibrator is taped into place on you, and pleasure begins to wash over you, yet you become even more scared. He's doing this on purpose, causing you some pleasure, and you know that means he is going to take his pleasure as well. There is nothing you can do to stop him, and the tears come anew as you hear a new series of sounds, a series you've heard before. It's the sound of a man unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

You're weeping still, but you stop a moment to gasp. The vibration increased sharply, but when did he even touch... No, it's remote controlled. The tears have stopped, and while you're still gasping your body is also betraying you, an orgasm beginning to build. Then you feel the head of his cock begin to part the lips of your pussy.

You shake my head back and forth, crying "no" as best as possible from beneath the gag. You twist and turn as hard as possible, knowing it won't help, knowing you're completely helpless and totally at his will... but you fight anyway, instinct kicking in. Every so often the vibrations moving over your clit change pace, causing you to gasp, causing you to pause your fighting for half a second. But when you regain yourself, you continue, knowing what is inevitable, but still unwilling to accept it.

Your attempts to fight make your attack chuckle, but it's cut short by several quick slaps across your face. As quick as the slaps, his hand comes up to grasp your throat. Then, with a single had thrust, you feel his cock bury itself to the hilt inside you. You wail into your gag, but it becomes a moan as he starts to slowly withdraw his cock and slide it back in. He's now fucking you, you realize, unable to prevent it. You knew this would happen but hoped somehow it wouldn't, and now that it is, your pussy keeps getting wetter with every stroke.

Each slap stuns you temporarily, and before you realize, he's slamming deep into you. Although you're wet, he's much too big for your tight pussy, and the pain of him forcing himself deep inside you causes you to start howling in pain. You scream into my gag as my body struggles to accommodate your large cock, a scream that turns into one of pleasure. Then you realize with dismay that the vibrator is about to cause you to orgasm. Your body is enjoying this brutal and intimate assault, and you're getting off on it. You're about to cum as you're screaming in pain mixed with pleasure, being fucked while completely powerless to stop it.

The man fucking you increases his speed. He clearly doesn't care what feels bad or good for you. He's using your pussy whatever way he wishes. The fact that he is about to make you cum is just an added degradation, and you're loving the fact that you're going to cum without being able to prevent it. Your orgasm draws so close, and he chokes you once again. Your world fades to just the pleasure being caused by the man violating your pussy with his cock, and when he releases his grip again the blood flow heightens everything. You feel your cunt tense, feel your body tense, and your orgasm hits harder than any you've ever had. You can feel yourself bucking in pleasure, can feel your pussy squeezing his cock, and can feel that cock tense inside you.

The constrictions of your pussy causes him to being to cum deep within you. You feel him spurt cum inside your pussy and it further drives your orgasm. This man is cumming inside you, against your will, and all you can do is drive your hips further into his cock, to take it deeper. You feel his seed being to overflow you, to leak out, and you shudder as your orgasm subsides.

As the pleasure from your orgasm fades away, you feel him pull his cock from you, feel a little more seed spill from you, hear it drip on the ground. The thought makes you feel dirty and used, as it's a reminder of the cum that's inside your pussy. Your body droops in shame, in exhaustion, and you feel something get placed around your neck. Something leathery, and you move your head around to feel parts that are metallic.

"Good pets need collars" he whispers into your ear. The degradation overwhelms you. You're being treated like a dog.

You hear his footsteps walking away. A door opens and closes, and you wonder if you may be alone, crying to yourself. Moments blend into minutes. You realize you've been used, collared, and left, like an object, like worse than an object. You have no idea what may be coming next, or when.

And you start to get wet again in anticipation.