Eric had gotten into the bad habit of falling asleep immediately after coming home from work. Perhaps he was slowing down as he was getting older. Perhaps his job was becoming so stressful that his body would involuntarily shut down the minute it reached the confines of his apartment. In any case, Eric dropped his work bag at the door and stumbled trance-like towards his bed. With a groan, he plopped facedown on top of his warm quilt and passed out almost immediately.
As he came to, Eric became aware of a few things. The first was that he was staring at the ceiling. Usually when he awoke he was still facedown, often in an embarrassing puddle of his own drool. Not thinking much of it, he yawned, stretched and instinctively went to rub his face in his hands. That's when he felt the cold metal of handcuffs cutting into his wrist.
"Ow. Wait, the fuck?" he muttered, his brain quickly adjusting from groggy to panicky as he realized that his feet were also handcuffed to the foot of his bed. His stomach dropped and his heart pounded in his chest as he frantically pulled on the chains that kept him anchored to his own bed. The rattling of the handcuffs muffled the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.
"Oh, good," came a voice from the doorway. "You're awake."
He froze. He recognized that voice. Shocked, he craned his neck up and watched as the tanned, curvy woman the voice belonged to took a final drag from her cigarette and walked towards him. She was dressed simply in a sheer, cheery yellow sundress that starkly contrasted the distinctly sinister look in her dark brown eyes. The thin material left little to the imagination; he could clearly tell there was nothing underneath it.
"Hello, Eric," she smiled earnestly, dropping her cigarette butt in the ashtray on the nightstand and placing a gentle hand on his face. "I have been looking forward to this for a long, long time." Speechless, he watched her as she gaze lecherously over his restrained, splayed body.
"Did you think you could tease me forever and without consequence? That I'd put up with the flirting and the photos and not eventually snap?" She leaned in close and playfully licked his lips. "No. It's time for your comeuppance," she giggled with a childlike glee.
Fuck. This couldn't be happening. Yes, he'd fantasized about fucking her. But not like this. He usually imagined he was on top of her while she was face down, plowing her fat ass while grasping two handfuls of her ample tits and burying his face in her wavy, dark chestnut hair. Even then, it was only a fantasy. He had a girlfriend, and had no interest in cheating on her. Those photos they had shared didn't count. Those conversations they'd had were meaningless. She knew this. He'd made that extremely clear in their exchanges. Eric glanced back up at his captor and realized that she was drinking in his confusion and fear with amusement. As she climbed on the bed and straddled him he found his voice again.
"Wait, please, stop," he pleaded. "You know we can't do this. I can't do this. I can't-" She cut him off with derisive chuckle, slid her hand down into the pocket of his work pants and pulled out his switchblade. Flicking it open, she dragged the flat of the blade under his neck.
"I don't think you fully understand what is happening here. See, you are at my mercy. I will do whatever I want, dear, and I can't seem to find a single fuck to give about what you want or how you feel."
The severity of the situation finally sunk in as he looked up at her with his wide, fearful blue eyes. "Don't worry, I have absolutely no interest in hurting you," she said with mock reassurance, her eyes following the blade as it move down his torso. "But if I were you I would stay still."
She slipped the knife under his shirt and back up towards his collar. With a violent jerk, she sawed through the collar and pulled the blade back towards her, slicing the shirt right down the middle. She sliced through both the sleeves and pulled his shirt away entirely, exposing his taut, hairy torso. With her free hand, she ran her fingers over this newly conquered skin, playing gently with his chest hair and fingering the spider tattoo covering his left pectoral.
Panic had overtaken his brain and he froze, unable to breathe. He watched in terror as she felt up every inch of his uncovered skin. She felt so good, but this was all wrong. He didn't want this. Not like this. He felt a familiar twinge in the pit of his stomach as he realized that his body was betraying him.
Once again her fingers traveled south, this time to slowly undo the fly of his pants. Eric inhaled sharply as he felt her tugging them down to expose his boxers and the shameful throbbing hard-on he'd been trying to fight down.
She could barely contain the small groan that threatened to escape her full lips.
"What have we here?" She smirked, tracing the length of his cock with a blood red fingernail. He jumped slightly at her touch. "Guess I'm not all that objectionable, huh?" She ran the knife under each leg of his boxers, pulling them fully away from his body. His rock hard member plopped back onto his belly with a soft thud. He wasn't small, but he wasn't necessarily huge. She knew from the photos that he had used more favorable angles, so she wasn't terribly disappointed. Still, she wanted to have a little fun with his ego.
"Aww! Isn't that the cutest little prick you ever saw?" she teased, using an index finger to gingerly lift it straight into the air. "How absolutely adorable!"
Eric's face turned beet red. This was all too much. Just as he was about to protest he felt the sensation of his dick being engulfed by a warm, wet mouth. Caught off guard, he moaned so loudly he even surprised himself. She looked up, glaring at him. Reaching forward, she slapped him hard across the face. She then wrapped her hands around his throat and squeezed, leaning forward until her face was inches away from his.
