They saw her running hard down the side of the road, passing her on their way back from their last delivery. On nice days like today, they liked to finish off their deliveries early, giving them more time to hunt for a victim. They looked at one another, and without saying a word knew exactly what to do.
They slowly circled the up-scale neighborhood, watching their prey running hard along the curb and down the streets that passed by homes worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. They would pass and look at her petite 5'5" frame, dressed in skin-tight spandex tights that covered her muscular legs and glutes, pulled up into the crack of her ass, clearly showing the outline of her little thong panties; a sweat-soaked gray tee-shirt, armless and cut-off to reveal her hard belly, barely covering a white sports bra that held her perky 34Bs in place; a bandanna wrapped around her head, and her long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. A pair of Oakley sunglasses hid her eyes, and a walkman blared in her ears. When she finally turned up her driveway, they made note of her address, moved around the corner and prepared to strike.
She slowly moved up the driveway and towards her front door. Her tee-shirt and bra was soaked with sweat, and she tried wiping her arms and face with a small hand towel she carried, tucked into her waist. With the music still blared in her ears, she didn't hear them park in front of her house or walk up the driveway, "toolbox" in hand, behind her. She unlocked the door, disarmed the alarm and turned to close the door. She was startled to see the two men standing in her door, and let out a little scream of surprise. She didn't have a chance to get a good look at them as they pulled their masks over their head, and the larger one, a black male about 6'5" and 250 pounds of well worked-out muscles grabbed her by the arm and covered her mouth, pushing her into the house and up against the wall. The other, a white male, about 6'2" and a lean 200 pounds or so, closed and locked the door and began pulling shades and closing blinds as he quickly, but carefully, surveyed the house.
She began to struggle and fight - she lifted weights and kept her small but muscular frame in shape with kick-boxing classes. But all the martial arts training in the world couldn't keep a man who was a foot taller and twice her weight off her. And when the white male came up from behind and muffled her screams by pulling her sweat-soaked bandanna into her mouth and gagging her, she knew she was in deep trouble.
The black male spoke to her, "Listen here, listen carefully. You may think you're in some deep shit, and maybe you are. But it ain't gonna get any easier, and you can only get fucked up if you don't do what you're told."
This didn't stop her from struggling, and they knew it wouldn't. It was the struggle that turned them on - the victim fighting and struggling underneath them as they fuck every opening on their tight little sweaty bodies.
The white guy pulls out a length of rope from his toolbox, and throws one end of it over the exposed ceiling rafters in the middle of the large, open living room. The black guy moves around behind her, puts one arm around her throat, the other her waist, and carries her, kicking and screaming into her gag, under the rafter. The white guy, satisfied with the strength of the rafter after pulling himself up by the ropes, grabs her flaying arms and ties her wrists together, pulling them above her head, leaving her on her tip-toes. The gray tee-shirt pulls up to reveal more of her rock-hard abs. He then reaches around and begins to grope her chest. She tries to kick him, but with no leverage behind her, she simply swings from her restraints, dangling like a marionette, helpless.
The black man comes back from the toolbox, this time with a bar about a foot long, with leather shackles at each end. The white guy's hands leave her chest, her bra pushed up exposing the bottoms of her tanned breasts, grabs one foot from behind and holds it while the black guy attaches the shackle. They do the same to the other leg, and the white guy, just for fun, grabs the bar and pulls her up by the legs, bending her backwards, causing some pain in her shoulders until he turns the bar, flipping her over, facing up towards the ceiling. The black guy moves up toward her head, and begins talking to her.
"You ever have a black man, baby?" her hisses to her as his hand moves down to her chest, "you ever been fucked by two guys at the same time, you little fucking slut?"
While fear filled her eyes, she shakes her head violently from side to side, her deepest, filthiest thoughts suddenly come flooding back. She had shared many sexual thoughts and fantasies with her husband, and even acted a few out - hookers, cheerleaders, and maids; dominate and submissive; public sex in dangerous places; multiple partners, both male and female; she even played out a rape fantasy on more than one occasion - but the one fantasy that her husband couldn't fulfill was being ganged raped, with well-hung black man thrown in for good measure. "How can I pull that one off," he'd say, "I mean, look at my friends. This neighborhood couldn't get any whiter, and I'm not to keen on getting some guy off the street to do it." So it remained an unfulfilled fantasy. But could this be considered a fantasy fulfilled? It was a real as it could get, and she couldn't be more out of control than she was right now. There was always a safe word, a way out, for her and her games with her husband. There is no safe word now.
But still, as she was fighting her restraints, struggling against her captives, her nipples began to press against her tight, wet bra - she was getting turned on, and she couldn't seem to control it.
The black guy continued to roughly grab at her tits, and pulled at her eraser sized nipples. "Look it here, man," he says to the white guy, "no tans lines up here - what about down there?"
The white guy abruptly lets her legs go, grabs the waist for her jogging tights and pulls them down mid-thighs, leaving her panties up but revealing a fully tanned ass.
"Man," he exclaims, "dark all over! Ya suppose she goes to one of them tanning booths, or maybe she's got one of them tanning machines here?"