Sharon was deeply asleep, lost in one of those good dreams. One of those in which there was no plot, exactly, rather a sort of warm ambient erotic undercurrent of infinite possibility. It was delightful and luxurious and the sound of Steve rummaging around in the dresser was an unwelcome irritation, to say the least. "Cut it out," she mumbled drowsily as she rolled over, then opened her eyes wide and drew in a sudden, sharp breath. It wasn't Steve. A tall dark shape, much larger than Steve loomed against the dresser.
She let out a short, strangled scream, but he was on top of her in a flash, one strong hand clapped firmly over her mouth, his body pushing hers firmly against the bed. "Ssssh, kitten," he purred, in a smooth, mellifluous baritone. "Ssssh. It's gonna be okay, long as you don't scream or nothing. You scream, make a big old racket, this doesn't have to end so well, you feel me?" Her heart hammered rapidly, and she trembled violently. "Calm down there, kitten. It's real easy. You just do everything I tell you, and everything's gonna be okay. Right? You tell me, kitten, what are you gonna do?" He withdrew his hand and abruptly stood up, looking down at her.
She was now able to focus on him for the first time. He was tall, well over six feet, dark-skinned, wearing dark clothing. Probably bald, though he wore a dark woolen cap that was slid almost insolently to one side. He had a very handsome face, truth be told, and he veritably grinned as his eyes slid up and down her form. Sharon was a petite woman in her early thirties, a whisker over five feet tall if she stood erect. When she dressed up, she fancied herself a cute little snack, with wide, guileless eyes, a little button nose, and an irrepressible smile always playing on her lips. At the moment, she felt helpless and small as she clutched the bedspread over her nightgown and bit her lip.
"Kitten." A warning note entered his voice. "You tell me, or this starts getting ugly."
"I..." She gulped. "I'll do what you want?"
"You'll do everything I tell you."
"I'll d-do everything y-you tell me."
"That's right. Now, don't worry about your boy, I'mma call him Mark. He's all tied up in the living room. Your neighbors are gone. I was gonna just do a little grab and run, but..." A hungry look crossed his face. "I think I'm going to take something else while I'm at it."
A jolt of fear ran through Sharon, and she couldn't help but glance at the visible bulge in the intruder's pants. "N-no, please, just take what you want and go."
"I intend to, kitten. But remember what you said? Say it again." He spoke sharply, ripping the bedspread from her, exposing her curvy little body peeking out from under her silky blue nightgown.
"I - Oh god - I'll do everything you tell me."
"Damn right. Now, we could have plenty of fun right here, but I think Mike's gonna want to see this." Effortlessly, he scooped her up, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her down the hall to the living room.
As advertised, Steve was in his usual late night spot, sitting slumped in his gaming chair, but affixed to it with a surprising amount of rope. A band of duct tape wound around his head, fixing his mouth closed, but he started and snorted as he saw the intruder carry Sharon into the room and drop her to her knees.