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!




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…






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