One Night
Closing the
door to my apartment, I throw the keys into the bowl by the door and drop my
bag on the floor, letting out a long sigh.
It has not been a good day at work, and all I can think of now is a hot
bath, something to eat and a glass of wine.
As I look at
myself in the mirror, I run my hand through my short chestnut brown hair. My grey coat is open, revealing my red jersey
dress, black leggings and knee length black leather boots. Another sigh and I unwrapped the patterned
scarf, hang it on the coat stand with my bag, and head for the bathroom,
starting the hot water running and putting some bath oils in before I head to
the bedroom.
Sitting on
the bed, I pull down the zip fastener at the back of my boots and ease them
off, wriggling my toes a little before taking off the white ankle socks and
tossing them into my laundry basket. I
pull the dress up over my head and then stand up, easing my leggings off and
then stretching. My bra and panties
follow the other clothes into the laundry basket, before I head to the bathroom
and turn off the water, the fragrant steam helping my head to clear as I slip into
the warm water and let myself relax.
It doesn’t
take long for me to warm up and feel better, the oils softening and soothing
the aches and stress away as I close my eyes and lean back, resting my head on
the bath end. IT feels so good to just
be able to relax, and forget about everything that’s been going on at work, and
elsewhere.
Eventually,
however, all good things like this have to end, and I get out, wrapping a towel
around myself as I head back into the bedroom.
Drying myself off, I open a drawer and put a fresh pair of panties on,
before taking a pink polo shirt out and slipping it on, the top left open. A pair of grey joggers
follow, and finally a pair of thick white socks. Not very glamorous compared to the day wear,
true – but I wanted to slob out.
Drying my
hair with a smaller towel, I head through to the front room and turn on the
television, scrolling through my recordings until I find that movie I recorded
the other night. As I start it playing,
I go into the kitchen and find a menu for the local Chinese restaurant, phoning
through an order and then opening a bottle of Chardonnay I’d had chilling since
last night. Going back into the room, I
sat on a seat, poured myself a glass, and watched the movie for a few
minutes. It was Roman Holiday,
and I began to lose myself in the world of Audrey Hepburn.
My dream was
interrupted by the sound of the intercom, and I paused
the film as I went to answer it, buzzing in the delivery boy as he brought my
dinner up. A few minutes later, there
was a knock on the door, and I took the packages, paying the man with a good
tip before I closed the door.
I barely had
time to put the food down on the coffee table in front of my seat before there
was a second knock on the door. “I don’t
think he forgot anything,” I said to myself as I went back and opened it.
I didn’t even
get a chance to say anything as he pushed his way in and held me against the
wall, his hand clamped over my mouth as he kicked the door closed. He was bigger than me – six foot six easily,
with short blonde hair, but right then it was the smell of his leather glove
that was combining with the sudden fear.
“Just keep
nice and quiet,” he whispered as he looked at me, “I don’t want to hurt you, but
I need you to keep quiet. Understand?”
I nodded and
tried to say something, but I could only mumble as he looked at me.
“Are you
expecting anyone tonight?”
I shook my
head as he said “Do you live alone?” I
nodded to that, as he said “Good – I’m going to take my hand away, and you talk
nice and quietly, all right?”
As he did so,
I said “My… My purse is in my
bedroom. Take it – I won’t tell anyone.”
“I just need
a place to lie low for a while, so you keep quiet and we’ll get along just
fine,” he whispered as he saw the phone.
Taking the wire, he pulled it from the socket, and then said “Where’s
your cell phone?”
“It…. It’s in my handbag, in my bedroom.”
“You eating?”
I nodded as
he took my arm and walked me back into the front room, looking at the food on
the coffee table.
“All right,”
he said quietly, “sit down, have your dinner, but no
funny stuff.” He took a seat to the side
of me, and drew from his jacket pocket a small pistol, which he left in plain
view as I picked up my egg rolls.
As I ate, I
looked him over. Broad shouldered,
strong, wearing a brown jacket over a shirt and jeans. His eyes never left me, watching every move I
made, as I looked at him and then away.
“What are you
going to do,” I asked nervously.
“Like I said,
I just need a place to lay low for a few hours – then I’ll be on my way,” he
replied as he looked me up and down.
“Don’t worry – I’m not going to kill you. Not unless you give me a reason to.”
Well, that
was reassuring – not, as I sipped my wine.
“But why me?”
“You had your
food delivered - I
slipped in after the boy, and waited until he had gone. Pure luck – not that I’m
complaining.”
There was
something in the way he was looking at me that made me feel uneasy, as he sat
on the edge of the seat, looking at me.
“Got a boyfriend?”
“No
– why?”
“Good looking
woman like you, I thought you would have one.
At least.”
“If I did, he’d
kill you for having a gun and forcing your way in here.”
“True – just
as well you don’t have one then, isn’t it?”
Well, he was
right about that – unfortunately, I finished my meal and slowly sipped my wine,
watching him all the time and wondering what he was thinking.
“You got any
rope in this place?”
“No,” I said
without thinking, “why would I?”
“Pity,” he
said as he stood up, and fished a ball of string out of his pocket, “it means I
have to use this to stop you raising the alarm for the moment. Put your hands together in front of you, palm
to palm, and sit still.”
He picked up
the gun and pointed it at me as eh said this – so I knew I had no choice in the
matter, watching as he tied my wrists tightly together, then played the string
out as he knelt in front of me and tied my ankles together.
I was too
shocked to do anything except watch as he took from his other pocket a roll of
sticking plaster, and tore a strip off, smoothing it down over my mouth before
he went to my bedroom. I looked over y
shoulder as he returned, taking the battery out of my cell phone and tossing it
into his seat before he took out my purse and removed the cash.
“Don’t move,”
he said then as he turned and walked out, and I heard the door to my apartment
open and close. I waited for a little
while, wondering if he really had gone, before I started wriggling round,
trying to free my hands and feet – but all I really managed to do was rub the
thin string against my bare wrists, which really started to hurt.
Grunting in
exasperation, I then tried to move my hands up to get to the plaster over my
mouth, but as I pulled my hands up I pulled my legs up as well, and it was next
to impossible to get to my mouth, even if I leaned forward.
“HLPPMMMMMM!”
Even my calls were muffled, the damned tape holding firm no matter how
much I moved my mouth around.
Eventually, in desperation, I slumped on the couch and fell asleep,
wondering when someone would come from work….
“I’m back.”
My eyes
opened wide in shock as I saw the man, squatting down and looking at me. He reached to the corner of my mouth and
pulled the plaster away, smiling as I yelped in surprise, and then cut the
string away.
“I need to
make sure you can’t raise the alarm,” he said quietly, “so go to your room, and
change into something more comfortable.”
“What do you
mean, more comfortable?”
“You’re going
to bed – you decide.”
Well, he was
still armed, so I knew I didn’t have a choice.
He followed me into my bedroom, but at least he had the courtesy to turn
his back while I slipped my top off, and pulled a nightdress down over my
head. The thin spaghetti straps over my
shoulders kept it on while I pulled my joggers off, and looked at him.
Then I
realised the way he was looking at me, and I started to shiver.
“All right,”
he finally said, “lie face down and put your hands behind your back.” As he said this, he opened a paper bag on the
bed, and drew out several length of white cord.
“Oh god,” I
whispered, but I did as he asked, looking away from him with my head to the
side. I could feel him crossing my
wrists behind my back, and then the rope as it forced them together. It felt strangely soft, but he was strong,
and it was soon apparent to me I was not going to be able to free them.
I then felt
him cross and tie my ankles together, before he rolled me over and pulled me,
making me sit on the edge of the bed as he knelt down and tied my legs together
below my knees. I shivered as his hands
stroked down my legs, the rope rubbing on them as well as he pulled it between
my limbs, tightening the coils still more around them, and then repeated the
process above my knees.
As he pulled
the rope between my legs again, he looked up and smiled at me. “Comfy?”
“Not really –
why are you doing this,” I said as I moved my legs, the rope rubbing on them.
“To ensure I
get away, and to thank you for being such a gracious
hostess. Your jewels and money are
gratefully received.”
“Thanks – I
think,” I said as I watched him walk behind me, and then saw a coil of rope as
it came over my head, and was pulled tightly around my arms and body, sitting
under my chest as my arms were forced into my sides. I gasped as I felt the rope
pressing against my body, and the gasps grew louder as he wound the rope
around, alternating above and below my chest, forcing my arms into place.
It also
forced my chest out – I would not say I am the best endowed of ladies, but as I
watched the rope tightening and my chest being forced up, I had to admit one
thing.
I looked good
like that!
Was that such
a horrible thing to say, as my nightdress stretched, the opening revealing
possibly a little more of my chest than I normally liked?
“Oh god,” I whispered
as I felt him tightening the rope still further behind me, and then feeding the
rope under my left arm, pulling it up and bringing it around the back of my
neck before he took it under my other arm.
The ropes almost caressed my chest, and as his hand stroked over the
silk I felt an involuntary shiver.
“Does that
feel good,” he whispered into my ear as he put his hands on my shoulders. Did it feel good? IT felt constrictive, I felt as if my arms
were locked into position, my legs held tightly together – and he was asking me
if it felt good? What sort of answer was
he expecting me to give!
“yes.”
It was soft,
quiet, and it took me a while to realise that it was me who had said it. I opened my eyes aide as I felt him tying
more rope behind me, and then taking it over one shoulder, between my breasts
and under the bottom band of rope, and then back up again, pulling gently as he
did so. My breasts were now effectively
encircled in rope, and no matter which way I twisted the rope rubbed on
them. I can’t describe very easily the
way it made me feel – because I’m still not sure if I really should.
But then he
stroked his fingers around my breasts, and slowly started to massage them from
behind, so that even as I whispered “no” I wanted him to continue, the feelings
like a shock running through me in such a pleasant way it was impossible for me
to ignore them.
“What are you
doing,” I breathed as he gently kissed my neck.
“Rewarding
you for your role as a hostess,” he said as he held a white wad of something in
front of my mouth, “open wide.”
I slowly
opened my mouth, and realised as it pressed down on my tongue it was a pair of
my ankle socks, balled up and now resting behind me teeth. I then watched as he took over my head the
scarf from earlier, rolled up and held taut in his hands. He pulled it between my lips, my teeth biting
down on it as he tied the ends at the base of my neck, the silk pressing into
my cheeks.
Then his hand
started their work again, and as his lips caressed my flesh I moaned even more,
twisting in a vain attempt to get free, to get away from the pleasant way I was
feeling…
Why would I
want to get away from this though? I
could feel the blood pumping into my chest, firming my breasts, my nipples
prominent more and more under the silk as he ran his fingers round them and
then pressed gently. I groaned then,
biting down on the silk band as he started to play me like a Stradivarius,
making me moan and groan to a tune that only he knew.
There was a
warmth between my legs as he did this, and as it burned more strongly I found
myself hoping he would he would do something to quench it. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to tie
another length of rope around my waist, and then feed it between my legs.
But as he
pulled it up, and made the skirt of my nightdress ride up, the rope rubbed
between my legs, and I screamed into the gag in a mixture of agony and
ecstasy. I barely felt him tying the
rope to my wrists, but as he gently pressed on my chest I instinctively
twisted, and the rope…
Oh god, the
rope rubbing on me made me cry with delight, as he kept the teasing up, and I
tried to move my arms and wrists, the cords rubbing into me as I felt something
building inside.
And it kept
building and building as he massaged me, kissed me – and then as my eyes opened
in shock and I felt the orgasm begin, he gently laid me on my side and watched
as I writhed round, unable to stop the pleasure from being released.
By the time I
had stopped and opened my eyes he had gone with my money, my cards, my
valuables – and I guess, in a funny way, my thanks for one night…