It's been a long day, and I am tired, more then ready to relax. As I walk in the door something nags at the back of my mind of something being off and out of place, but I'm on a one track mind right now, and so shrug it off as my over active imagination.
I walk through my dark and quiet apartment, stripping as I go, first my shirt pulled quickly off over my head, then more slowly my bra. I let out a soft sigh almost a moan as my sore breasts are released from their binding, and I have to take a second to massage them, wishing it was some one else's hands even as I do so. But it's not to be, I've been alone for a while now, and no prospects for the near future.
As I enter my bathroom and turn on the light, the nagging thought tries to spring forth again, but once more is pushed down as I unbutton my pants and slip them from my nicely rounded thighs. I look at myself in the mirror, evaluating my body, clad only in my favorite black lace boy-shorts, the ones with a little crystal dangling in the front.
I've been called beautiful, cute, pretty, and I can almost see the last two, I have a fair face, complemented by my shoulder length brown hair, which is once again trying to get curly on me. My eyes travel down my pale neck, to my shoulders then to my breasts. They are nice, but not perfect, one breast is a full cup size larger then then the other, and both are marked with the very pale lines of stretch marks, from where they had once filled with milk. I've never had a complaint about my breasts, and despite their so called "flaws" I am very proud of them, enjoying showing off the ample cleavage at times with a good bra and low cut shirt.
I turn to the side slightly and briefly admire my lace clad hips and ass, something more to be proud of in a way, my ass might be large but most men seem to enjoy the sight of it, and I chuckle to myself thinking of the times it's been called "heart shaped". Looking down further to my nicely defined legs, I shrug as I always do.
Then I turn to the bath tub and start the warm water flowing, more then ready for it even as I slip out of my panties and step into the shower spray. The first few minutes are spent just letting the borderline hot water cascade over my nude body washing away stress from the day. I start lathering up my hands with my special lilac soap. A sent I love very much covering my hands, and then my body as I rub the soapy foam over my arms, then my breasts. I've been horny all day and so it's no surprise that I start pulling on my nipples and massaging my breasts even as I'm lathering them up, letting one hand travel down my stomach to my shaved pussy.
I won't part my lips while my hands are still soapy but it doesn't stop me from rubbing myself, increasing my excitement. I love the feel of my hand stroking my outer lips, getting ready for more. My eyes are closed just enjoying the feelings I'm causing to my body, and so I miss the extra shadow that has entered the bath room with me.
I rinse my hands off, and move more under the water, letting one hand support my weight against the wall. Even as the other has returned between my legs, rubbing my wet pussy, parting my lips. I let two fingers enter my tight pussy. I pump and rock against them, moaning quietly, before moving my hand and fingers to my clit, rubbing all around the sensitive nub. I don't bother being quiet and moan my enjoyment as I bring myself closer to finish, just rubbing my hard little clit, and the area around it. Faster I work my hand, moving in closer circles, vibrating my fingers as I do so, until I almost scream as I finish, my whole body spasming. I fall limp against the wall, my legs and arm barley holding me up.
Suddenly the lights go out and two strong arms have grabbed me, pulling my body back out of the shower. I'm too surprised to scream. I start twisting in my attackers arms trying to free myself, he grunts as he tries to keep hold of my wet slippery body. He manages to work my arms behind my back and then suddenly he grabs my hair and pulls back hard, causing me to emit a slight painful screech.
His deep voice whispers in my ear even as he adjusts his grip on my arms and hair. "Do as I say you little whore and you might just enjoy yourself." He starts kissing along my neck, finding a few sensitive areas, almost as if he knows my body personally. I don't want to enjoy the feeling he is causing but I can't help it, my neck has always been sensitive to touch, and my body has been denied anothers touch for a while now.
It is while I'm distracted with my internal war that he manages to manipulate my body into my bedroom and face down on my bed. His weight holds me down and I find myself unable to move my face to even breathe much less scream. I'm blind and helpless, and starting to worry about air when I feel him wrapping a cord around my wrists, better securing them. He pulls my body up and the blindfold I keep near my bed is slipped over my eyes.
"Mmmmm dirty little whore aren't you? Playing with yourself in the shower. Handcuffs on the door, and a blindfold next to your bed. You must like it rough." His mouth is right next to my ear as his rough voice once again whispers in my ear. I start whimpering, I'm afraid of whats happened in the past brief moments, the lack of control I'm now forced to endure, and yes the honest truth I find in his words. "I'm not going to gag you, unless you make me, my little whore. I want to hear you moaning and panting like the bitch you are."
His mouth has once again attached to my neck roughly biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh. Then I find myself pushed onto my back, his mouth covering mine as quickly as I was turned. His hands are on my breasts kneading my soft mounds roughly, pulling and twisting my nipples.
One hand quickly travels from my breasts to push apart my legs and starts rubbing harshly at my still tender lower lips, parting them and feeling the wetness that to my shame is increasing rather then going away. It's this fact that causes my attacker to chuckle. "I knew it, you are enjoying this aren't you bitch? Has it been so long since you had a man that even this is turning you on, or are you just that dirty?" I can't answer. I refuse to dignify him with an answer other then the whimper I couldn't stop escaping my lips.
