Author's comments. I decided it was time to post a story. I have been enjoying others' free stories. I have criticized authors and their work. I know I would give very little credibility to someone who has never actually posted a story before. So, I decided it was time and I already had three stories posted on a different site from 2014.
The problem: the jackals of Anon commenters, many of whom are just mean and stupid. Two of my stories are my babies. They mean something to me. I just cannot subject them to Anon. Not gonna happen. But, I do have this bastard child. It is partly a writing exercise using a 1st person perspective. It was also just fun to write. I think some readers might find it fun. But that is about the best one can hope for.
This is not all that creative; it is about a man who breaks in a house and abuses the wife in front of her husband. Yeah, never seen that before, am I right? No character development and the plot is about as basic as you can get. Realistic? If you squint just right and clench your butt cheeks, then maybe you can pretend this is a realistic scenario and genuine reactions. It is just a fun story folks, with no attempt at socially redeeming value.
Barney_R was the editor. Thanks again Barney.
So, Anon, feel free to tear this one apart. I think there is even one instance of male-male activity. If you have actually written and posted a story before, I will give much more credence to your opinions.
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This night I will feed my lust. My targets are in the house, across the street. The street is quiet. I breathe in the tang of my eagerness, adrenaline, and lust. I feel alive.
I trot across the street and walk quickly but carefully around the house to the backdoor. I pause. The next moves have to be quick, sure and choreographed. My first appearance in the house will set the tone for the rest of the evening, and I want my first appearance to be memorable; so memorable that they will never get rid of the picture of my face. I hope that they will remember my face, causing them to tremble in fear, on their death bed. That is power.
I see their silhouettes through the curtains. I gently test the doorknob, and confirm that it is unlocked. She always cleans up the dishes as he finishes his meal. The sink is near the back door, where I crouch under the window. Yes, here she comes. It's ShowTime!
In a seamless movement, I open the door, wrap my left arm around the bitch's chest, and place the edge of my hunting knife against her throat. She freezes as the prey she is, and her mate-protector hesitates. Hesitation is all I need.
"If you want her to live, sit down."
I throw a set of handcuffs on the table.
"Put those on behind your back, stand up slowly, and face away from me. Obey me and you both will be uninjured in the morning."
Fear is my strength and his weakness. I have nothing to lose, while he has everything to lose. I pull deeper on the knife to cause the she-victim to whimper. My cock jumps at her sound. He looks at her in concern, as he obeys my demands. His back is to me now, and I carefully push his wife closer to him and check the tightness of the handcuffs. I quickly sheathe my knife, twist her arm behind her, and secure her arms with another set of handcuffs. I push her into the middle of the adjoining living room, gather the back of her shirt collar with my right fist, and abruptly push her face-down on the carpet.
"Walk over here and sit in the rocking chair."
His eyes fight over choosing to resisting or obey. But I have bound his hands and he can't make a quick escape, without turning around to feel for a doorknob. He carefully lowers himself in the chair. I walk behind him, and remove the back pack. A set of ankle cuffs go around his feet, and I attack a chain to the handcuffs and ankle cuffs to prevent him from getting up.
I turn to my main target. I grab her elbows and lift her to stand. I pick up the small whip attached to my belt.
"Strip down to your underwear".
She freezes until my arm threatens to whip her. With a shriek and the first sign of her lovely tears, she quickly removes her house-dress, takes off her running shoes and socks. I grab her shoulder, turn her facing away from me toward her man, and grab the slave collar from my left pocket. I secure the collar to her lovely neck, attach the six foot leash, and secure it to the clip on my utility belt. She is going nowhere now.
My opening act was performed flawlessly. By submitting to me, they set their roles for the rest of the night as my unwilling slaves, worthy only to be used by me, for my amusement. I savor the feeling and let the furor build throughout my body, granting me superhuman strength.
I dig out a belly strap and my third set of handcuffs from my bag. The handcuffs are removed from one wrist and attached to the belly strap, followed by the handcuffs securing her other wrist. The restraints are to place her mind at my mercy, more than to protect me from her assaulting me. Her resistance dissipated when she first felt the knife at her throat.
I grab the shears from my bag, and cut the clothing from my seated victim, while his wife witnesses how impotent he has become to save her or himself. As I pull his last dignity from around his crouch, I look in his eyes.
"Don't feel too bad. You will see me naked soon enough."
I attach a ball gag in his mouth. He can still make a lot of noise, but he won't, not with his treasure attached to my leash, and not while he is within reach of my whip. I stare at him until he averts his eyes; I bitch-slap him across the face, with the back of my hand. He gasps in a breath and holds it as he reacts to unexpected pain.
I turn to my preferred pet of the evening. Her eyes are wide-open, leaking tears, and taut with tension. It is time to calm the excitable filly. They are always best when their spirit is unbroken. I pull the leash, pulling her to stand in front of me.
I gently wipe her tears and stroke her face. I put a mask of compassion over my visage that I do not feel. I begin stroking her lovely strawberry blonde hair, telling her how beautiful she is. She relaxes. I stroke her body lovingly, beginning with her arms, then her back, sides and stomach, always telling her how well she pleases me.
Now begins the seduction. She is relaxed but not aroused. This will not do at all. I walk behind her and nibble her neck while I continue to stroke her with my hands. "You are beautiful; so pleasing to me." I kiss the sides of her face, her neck, her shoulders, and smile when she leans back against me. I release her bra. I continue to caress her with my lips as my hands lift her breasts and then my fingers circle her nipples without touching them.
"What size cup breasts are these?"
She whispers, barely audible, "I wear a D-cup."
"Master."
She does not respond to my prompt and I roughly grip her right nipple. She jumps and my lips feel her tears renew down her face.
"I... I wear a D-cup, Master."
I release my grip and wipe away the pain from her breast. I turn to the male slave.
