Assault and Submission

My apartment was a shit hole in a bad neighborhood. It was all I could afford after my witch of an ex-wife took almost everything from me in the divorce. I'd just wanted out, so she got more than she deserved. It wouldn't have been so bad, except I got downsized right afterward. Now I was stuck in an underpaying job, way below my skill level, with a cast iron bitch for a boss. Some days I wondered if she and my ex were friends.

It was a typical Thursday evening, well after seven o'clock and I had a pile of work in my arms that I'd brought home to finish, courtesy of my lovely boss. I was also carrying two grocery bags of food and a bottle of red wine. The light on the landing was still burnt out (I made a mental note to once again remind the landlord to fix it) so I was having a hard time juggling all the stuff while undoing the locks. I never heard the assailant. A hard object that I assumed was a gun, jammed into my ribs and forced me forward the instant the door unbolted. Off balance, I dropped everything and tumbled into my apartment. The place was small, so I didn't travel far before my knees hit the sofa causing me to collapse over the arm of the worn furniture. My feet were out behind me, my head was pressed into the seat, and my ass stuck up in the air.

"Don't move a fucking muscle," the harsh voice ordered. "And don't even think about making a sound." The weapon dug into my side again. I laid still, bent in half. Bags scraped across the floor, and the door closed behind me. When the deadbolt snapped home I knew that I was in trouble.

"Take what you want," I said hoping that it was just a burglary.

There was a disdainful chuckle. "I will, don't worry."

Because of my relative poverty, I didn't have much, just some used furniture, clothes, books, photos, the usual bachelor stuff. I did have a nice fifty-five-inch flat screen TV and a powerful laptop. Those would be gone I was sure. Even though I couldn't see, I could tell the thug was strong, but on the smaller side. How the guy was going to get my stuff out of the third-floor apartment without me intervening was a mystery.

"Take off your belt and put your hands behind your back." Mystery solved; my wrists were quickly bound. "Open your mouth." Again, I obeyed hoping to delay the kind of ending that I'd read about. A piece of cloth shoved past my lips gagging me. At least it didn't smell bad, I thought. The rag had a pleasant, almost perfume-like, aroma.

I'd lost a lot of weight through the divorce and been going to the local YMCA as often as my job would allow. However, I hadn't bought new clothes to match my trimmer physique. Without a belt, my pants began drooping off my hips and sliding down my rear end.

"Look what we have here," the voice said from behind.

Fear coursed through me. The thug sounded gleeful. My pants were jerked down the rest of the way. The tangle of clothing around my ankles left me even more securely bound.

A hand touched my right butt cheek sending a shiver through me. "Good," the voice said, "but not enough." With another rough yank, my underwear went down too. I was completely naked and exposed below the waist.

The attacker touched me again, stroking over my now bare cheek. I could feel soft leather gloves, a light, almost sensuous caress. "Nice ass," the voice carried a hint of appreciation, maybe even admiration. A finger ran down my crack. I shuddered harder. "You like that, huh?"

In any other circumstance, I probably would have enjoyed it. I'd admitted as much to Diane. She was the one lady friend that I'd made since my divorce. We'd struck up a relationship that had begun over lunch and expanded into dinner dates and late evenings at our favorite bar. She was almost my height, athletic and strong, very attractive by any standard. Her most alluring feature however, was her assertiveness. I love a strong woman, one who knows her mind and isn't afraid to get what she wants. Some might have called her dominant and they would not be totally incorrect. Many could consider me submissive, but I didn't believe that accurately described me either. What I liked was being able to let my guard down and be both emotionally and physically vulnerable to someone I trusted. The freedom to let go and not wear any shred of ego-protective armor, to be truly myself in the company of a sympathetic soul was exhilarating, erotic. I'd shared that with Diane. She was fascinated by my feelings, and had quizzed me extensively about them. Even though she did not share my perspective, she let me know that she approved and supported it. Unfortunately, the voice coming from behind me was not Diane's.

A crack echoed as the gloved hand slapped my butt hard. "I said, you like that, don't you?" Another blow landed on the opposite cheek. "Answer me."

I was speechless. Not only was I stunned by the assault, but the gag made it impossible for me to say anything. I nodded my head vigorously, hoping to mollify my attacker.

"Better." The hand smoothed over my inflamed skin. The touch on my hypersensitive skin felt good. Pleasurable goosebumps flared there and a delightful shiver coursed through me, all against my will. But I was terrified, sure that the invader was going to do something awful to me. Anger welled up past my fear. Despite my vulnerable position, I began thinking of ways I could fight back.

What felt like a boot kicked the inside of my left ankle. "Spread your legs." I didn't move. I couldn't because my feet were trapped in the clothing bunched there. Another painful blow hit my butt cheek. "I said spread 'em." I tried to explain past the gag in my mouth, but I couldn't. "Shit," the machine-like voice exclaimed recognizing my dilemma. "I'll fix that, but if you move one single, fucking inch," the gun jabbed threateningly into the small of my back. I stayed very still as the goon pulled my clothes from around my ankles.

"I've got it now." I thought to myself imagining that with my foot freed that I'd be able to get loose. I might just as well have been dreaming of freedom because my ankle was immediately secured to the leg of the couch. Moments later the other one was restrained too. My heart sank as my predicament worsened.

"I like that," the voice said with satisfaction. I thought that I couldn't be any more defenseless, bent over and tied down. I was wrong. Two hands grabbed my hips and roughly pulled me backwards. With my weight on my heels, arms bound behind me, and chest perched on the arm of the sofa, my butt cheeks spread open and my genitals hung below me. I was entirely exposed, completely and utterly helpless.

"I am fucked," I thought to myself.

Everything went quiet. Feet paced back and forth behind my naked rear. It was as if the trespasser was trying to decide what to do next. My heart raced in dread anticipation.

"You've got a pretty ass," the disembodied voice finally said. Visions of the rape scene from the movie Deliverance flashed before my eyes. "I like your pretty ass," two hands palmed my butt cheeks and spread them wider. I gasped, imagining the worst; some bull forcing himself into me. A supple, leather-gloved fingertip traced the outlines of my virgin anus. My anxiety went into overdrive. "But it's not your ass I want," the voice growled. "Not this time." The hands released my cheeks. "I want this." Fingers wrapped around my cock, which dangled below me. My pulse raced even higher and my head spun. "And I'm going to have it!"

I considered my limited options. I could try and fight using some kind of made-up kung-fu. But the hard truth was that I was completely powerless. The best outcome, I admitted to myself, was to give in and hope to live. At least, there was a chance I'd survive; and go through a lifetime of therapy, the end result of the degradation that faced me. I let my muscles go soft

"Good boy," the voice said approving my acquiescence. The other gloved hand stroked my butt.

I didn't want to feel any enjoyment from what was happening. But the combination of being jacked and caressed by leather covered hands made blood flow into my groin. Against my will, my cock stiffened. "I can tell you like that," my attacker said. "Tell me you like it!"

I nodded again, hoping to put off the inevitable. The hand kept masturbating me and my dick reflexively grew longer and harder. "That's right. Get nice and hard for me," the voice almost purred. My head swirled more. What I felt in my genitals didn't match what was in my brain. I was a victim, a pawn in the hands of this brute. I was being abased. And yet, the sensations coming from my swollen cock were incredible. I couldn't help myself. It all was out of my control. I succumbed, freeing myself from the guilt of not resisting.

The next thing I knew, I was pulled down to the floor, on my back, still fully restrained. The gloved hand wrapped around my now fully inflated pole, pumped it, forcing pre-cum from the tip. My attacker towered over me backwards so that I was unable to see a face. I had no idea what lay ahead, but I didn't care. I was ready to burst from the uninvited stimulation. Even though I'd resigned myself to whatever might happen, I was unprepared for the next moment.

"I'm gonna fuck you hard now. You better not cum until I tell you to." Warm wetness engulfed my turgid cock. It felt fantastic, hot, tight, and amazing. Weight pressed down on my groin. "Fuck yes!" The voice called out and the heaviness lifted off of me. It dropped back and once more my aching erection was buried in hot, blissfully snug wetness. Unseen liquid oozed down over my balls. My mind tried to reject the truth that it felt great. I pushed my hips upwards, lying to myself that I was attempting to throw off my attacker. My rod was re-sheathed by the steaming, sodden tunnel. A moan escaped from my lips.

"Oh yes," I heard past my now pounding pulse. "Harder. And don't you dare cum yet." I let go of any pretense that I was resisting, and repeatedly drove myself into the fleshy weight above, meeting every downward thrust with my own upward ones, forcing my aching cock into the merciless, exquisite tightness that was riding me. "Harder! Fuck me harder!" I obeyed and stabbed my throbbing shaft skyward as forcefully as I could.

A loud scream of release, a deluge of hot liquid that soaked my balls, and violent shuddering signaled an end to the erotic torment from above. A single choked word, "Cum," was the final, guttural command that I heard. I let go and spewed a high-pressure fountain of semen from the end of my tortured cock. My head reeled, my sight blurred. It had been hostile, wild, tumultuous, furious, disorderly, and ... magnificent.

Slowly I processed what had just happened. Bound and powerless, I'd been fucked to climax by an unseen aggressor. I'd had no say in what I'd experienced, and yet I'd loved it. Maybe, I admitted to myself, it was specifically because I was completely out of control, that I'd enjoyed it the most.

"That was incredible." the voice said. My vision cleared and I saw the form turn around so that we were face-to-face. A familiar smile hovered over me. Hands reached up to the neck and pulled away the voice changing device wrapped there. "Oh my god you were great. It was so hot. I came so hard." It was Diane, my Diane. All along it had been the woman who understood me the best, who knew my predilection for submissiveness, and embraced her own love of control, who had crafted an exquisite role play that satisfied both of our desires. "We should definitely do that again." She freed my hands and removed my gag.

I pulled her down and hugged her tight, ecstatic that I'd finally found the one who could satisfy my deepest urges. "Oh yes. Yes we will, again and again," I said happily.