"Tonight you're mine, completely..." The song came to a sudden halt as he turned off the car. He liked the oldies station as it made for some easy to ignore background music and occasionally the lines could be twisted around to his particular perversion. He hustled out of the car and back to the trunk to pull out his "break in" bag. It wasn't as if he was new to this. He had this planned out very well. First, he was dressed in what the old school rogues would call his "darks"...black from top to bottom, with a black knit ski mask covering his head...just 2 eye holes and a single mouth hole. Even his break in bag was blackened. Secondly, he knew his mark. Watched her. Studied her habits. He knew when she would be vulnerable. He knew she didn't have a dog which made it much easier. He even knew that she would be off the bus in about 10 minutes, so he had to get a move on. Closing the trunk quietly, he slunk over to the shrubs on the left side of the door. Just made it easier to wrap around with his Bowie knife in his right hand. Before he settled into his perch, he unscrewed the porch lamp to the point where it turned off. No sense in announcing his presence, right? He crouched down and waited, and almost as if on cue, she appeared. A form fitting off-maroon dress, sensible pumps and tan hose covered her luscious body. She had a briefcase in her left hand and her keys in the right. She did at least pay attention to that much of the "self-defense" promotions that ran every other month on the local news.
She walked up to the door, noticing the porch light was out. "Hmm," she thought to herself, "I'm going to have to fix that." All of the sudden she felt her mouth covered and a sharp point pressed against her throat. "Do you know what a Cuban Necktie is?" said a gruff voice. "No? Well it's where I slit your throat and pull your tongue out through the hole. Scream, and I'll give you a first hand demonstration. Capice'?" She nodded in the short, rapid fire nods of someone in a full state of panic, which is how he liked his marks. It made them a bit more compliant. He took is hand about a ½ an inch from her mouth. She made no sound, other then her slightly more rapid breathing. "Good girl. Now, open the door, and turn off the alarm." She did, without hesitation. He was close to her, on her heals as would a little yipping dog. But this dog was not yipping, and was not little. He closed the door behind them with a flick of his free hand. The door closed with a louder then anticipated thud, causing her to jump a little. "Nervous? Good! Now, don't move a single muscle."
She stayed as still as she could...but she was vibrating with an energy she hadn't felt in a long while. Did he know her dirty little secret? Surely not. She was very careful to keep those friends separate, even using a different name when she was with them. Never had they even been to her house. All of the sudden everything went black and quiet. She panicked. She'd never been a fan of full sensory deprivation, and that's what this felt like. She heard his voice.
"Now, I bet your wondering what happened. Well, this is a ball mask. It's blocking out your sight completely, and muffling your hearing. Now what's going to happen next is kind of up to you. I can either cut you out of that pretty dress your wearing, or you can take it off yourself. Either way, I'm going to have you naked in a moment."
300 dollars. That was what she paid for the dress, and it wasn't easy to find either. She knew she looked damn good in it, though her husband told her she looked good in whatever she wore. But 300 dollars.
In a moment the dress was a crumpled ring around her feet. She shivered lightly as the tip of the knife found a spot between her shoulder blades. That was about the only dress she felt comfortable not wearing a bra with, as it fit so tightly any underwear would make a clearly visible line. "Very nice, dame. Now, back to the bedroom with ya," he said, pushing the point of his knife slightly to punctuate his pointed command.
"I....I can't see... I'm going to run into a wall," she responded.
"Fah," he retorted, "I'll keep you off the walls." With great trepidation, she started down the hallway to the spare bedroom.. "Nuh-uh," he said. "That's not your bedroom." He steered her over to the main room, across the hall from the spare bedroom"
"Oh dear," she thought silently, "how did he know?" She felt the side of the bed with the top of her leg so she knew to stop. He pushed her, face first across the mattress, so that she was parallel to the short side of it. The point of his knife never left her back. He reached under the bed and found a tether.
"Hmm... Tethers on the bed? Gee... someone might think your kinky or something," he said in a tone of complete mockery. He know they where there, that's why he hadn't bothered to put any kind of rope or ties in his break in bag, just 4 single cuffs, the ball hood and 1 rubber glove. He pulled one of the cuffs out and secured it around her ankle, just above the strap for her shoe, and clipped it into the tether. He pulled tether tight and it pulled her leg up and over her head, something akin to the position a scorpion's stinger would take. He went to the diametrically opposite side of the bed and dug out another cuff, putting it on her wrist this time.. This he just pulled as tight as he could, only to keep her hand out of play, as it were. Now she was ½ way secured, on a diagonal. He just set the knife on her back as he tied the other hand into this configuration. For the finishing touch, he got the other foot and put her into what could be called a wheelbarrow position, with both feet curled back unto themselves and over her head. At this point she is totally helpless, unable to move or defend herself at all.
"Now... what do we have here?" His gruff voice puncturing her mental retreat from this predicament. "I'd say you were trussed up like a turkey, wouldn't you?" He was chuckling as he spoke, reveling in the undeniable power that he held at this moment. With a loud snap, he pulled the rubber exam glove onto his hand. That snap was enough to shock her back to her senses.
She tried to turn her head to see what was happening, but two things were working against her. First, this position afforded her no freedom as far as her neck would move. Secondly, the hood was fitted on and would not move, no matter how hard she tried to peel it out from under her chin. She felt the latex covered hand rub up and down her buttocks. It was a disturbing feeling, as she could somewhat feel the heat from his hand, but the glove blocked any skin to skin contact. Slowly, teasingly if taken out of this context, his hand worked its way inside her legs. The rubber slipped and slid along her slit.
"She likes this? Hey Mikey, she likes it!" he exclaims discovering her wetness. She starts to blush, and he can tell as her shoulders start to get slightly pink. "Do you like being tied up, dame? Answer me!" The knife is back in hand and he puts the long side of the blade against her tender neck.
"Yes." came the meek answer from her. Her shoulders turned another shade of pink.
"And do you like being fucked roughly?" He presses the blade into her neck, to the point of almost breaking the skin.
The sudden rough language and ongoing treatment of her by this...this...man, she guessed only from his size when he was standing behind her and his voice, was getting to her. Simply put, her body was flowing like a garden hose. She knew she shouldn't be, as this could have been anyone. What would her husband say? What would she tell her husband? But still, this "him" has found her buttons and pushed them, amazingly. "Yes," was her barely audible reply.
