Honestly, I have no idea how I keep ending up in this position – well, something like this position. Maybe I have a sign hanging over my head saying it’s happened before, but seriously – over the years, it’s happened several times now...
Debs is downstairs, with two of the other men – and I can only pray that she is able to cope with whatever they do to her. I think this is the first time she’s been robbed – and that look of fear in her eyes was fairly genuine, as I watch the two with me emptying things from boxes into their bags. That’s all they are really – things, and as I sit here, my hands on my head resting on my greying hair, I can’t help thinking worse things have happened.
I find myself remembering 1973 – I was twenty one, and had just graduated from Harvard, so I was waiting for confirmation of my Grad School place. I’d just been out with my boyfriend to see the parade in Boston – well, it was the Fourth of July – and he had dropped me off at my apartment to change for a meal out.
I remember I was wearing a white sweater, with one of those bead belts that were so popular at the time, orange hot pants, a woolly hat and tight white leather boots. Anyway, I let myself in – and then screamed into a gloved hand as it was clamped over my mouth.
I never really got a good look that time at whoever the intruder was – I could hear his breathing, and by the lord I could smell it as well. But he forced me to the ground, making me kneel and pulling my wrists behind my back before I felt him bind them together with rope.
I tried talking to him, tried to find out who he was, but he didn’t say a word – all I could feel was the cord biting into my arms, and then the rope squeaking as he pulled my ankles together with another length, and then he made me kneel.
He then tied a length of rope around my waist, and before I got a chance to ask him what he was doing he pulled the rope between my legs, forcing it against me and making it rub on my hot pants as I tried to stop him tying it round my elbows – but it was no good.
Trying to talk to him was no good a few minutes later either, as he pressed a strip do sticking plaster over my mouth and then making me get onto my feet and jump into the front room. Each jump made that rope rub, and each rub made me feel so strange...
Eventually, he made me lie down and pulled my ankles back, tying them to my wrists, before he left me there. I learned later he had robbed me – when my roommates finally got back, and I had been forced to watch the fireworks from the window – while experiencing fireworks do my own while I lay there.
“All right,” the man in the room says with me as he looks at me, “it’s time.”
I look at him, and say “time for what?” Debs is wearing a brown dress with lace trim, and high heels, while I have on a grey vest top, and a long pleated skirt with a light brown pattern. I also had on a pair do brown sandals.
“Stand up,” the man said, “and take your skirt off.”
“Why should I...” I then saw his gun again, and slowly stood up. It made me think of another Independence Day, in 1977...
I had started to work at a legal office, and this particular day I was wearing a grey long sleeved blouse with a pattern, and a long black skirt, split to the waist on my left. I also had on a pair of my favourite boots – grey mock croc skin design, with a three inch heel.
I was living in Chicago at the time, and in an apartment on my own, so I had a few – shall we say, toys to keep me amused. Anyway, 4th July, and I come home after having to work that day and hoping to get to the big firework display at the lake.
Walking in, however, I was surprised as I saw two young men standing in there, but one of them turned and pointed a gun at me, so I knew I was in a modicum do trouble as I raised my hands.
The other man looked at me, and then told me they were going to rob me, and they had to keep me out of the way. Well, what was a girl in her mid-twenties going to do?
They made me walk over to the couch, and sit down, before one of them produced a ball of string from a pocket and tied my wrists together in front of me. They then made me lie down, and took my hands over my head, using the string to tie them to the leg do a table that was next to the long seat.
As he did this, the second young man was looking at me, and then he pulled my skirt down, revealing not just my panties, but the top of my stockings and the garter belt, as well as my knee length boots.
They both whistled as they looked at me, and then the first man walked round and started to tie my ankles together, the other one making me squirm as he stroked my legs and looked at me. I was going to scream just fro that – but as I opened my mouth, he stuffed a rag into it, and just carried on.
His touch was soft, surprising and gentle, but the fear was growing in me as my ankles were tied to a lampstand, and the other guy walked off. I knew he was looking for things, but I was far more worried about what his friend was going to do to me...
I then saw him walk in, smirking as I saw the toy he had in his hand. Before I could mumble anything, he switched it on, and stuck it into my panties, both do them watching and smirking as it had the effect on me these things always have.
As I slowly squirmed and moaned, I closed my eyes, unable to dislodge it or stop them from laughing as the warmth slowly built inside me. I barely heard them as they left, so caught up was I in what that device was doing to me...
It was hours later when a friend, worried I had not come to the display, came and found me.
Why this is coming to mind I don’t know, although the fact he made me take off my skirt may have something to do with it, as the men then tell me to lie on the bed. As I do so, they take a wrist each, and tie one end of a length of white cord to it, before stretching my arms out and tying them to the sides of the headboard. As they stroke their latex gloved hands down my arms, I cannot help but enjoy the feeling, the sensation, the touch.
They then look at me before they start to kiss my neck, and then one of them moves my vest up, starting to massage my chest while the other one binds my ankles to the foot of the bed, legs spread apart. I know what is likely to happen, but unlike the first time, this just felt different...
I had been married for ten years, when in 1992 I was walking down the street, dressed to impress. For some reason, which escapes me for the moment, I had dyed my hair blonde, and was wearing a grey jacket with a black collar, a black top underneath, and a long charcoal grey skirt with black leather granny boots.
I had been to a civic event that year, with my husband, but while he had stayed on to do the political smooching, I was heading to join Debs at his parent’s for the meal. A cab was proving difficult to flag down, but one eventually stopped and I jumped in, giving the address I wanted.
It was hot, so I slipped my jacket off and relaxed – which was when something was sprayed into my face, which made me feel woozy...
When I came round, I was sitting in a chair, my hands pulled behind the back of the chair and secured together with rope. My ankles were tied to the front legs of the chair, and my upper body was lashed to the chair back. Something had been stuffed into my mouth, giving me a taste like burnt sugar, and tape was pulling at the skin around my mouth.
I had never been more terrified in my life, as I looked round the bare room. I mean the times before when I had been tied up, I was scared, and they had done something to me to distract me, but not this time. This time was different, as I heard someone walk up behind me, and then roughly grab my chest. He made me horny just by groping me, and then...
The hands of the two men with me were gently caressing my chest now, my vest top pulled up as I gasp slightly. And then I flash back to that time...
He then pulled my jumper up, as well as my bra, and he grabbed me again, the rough gloves hurting me as much as he groped me again, and then he pushed his hand into my skirt, between my legs.
It’s not a pleasant feeling to have someone do that to you – and not the greatest way t achieve an ooooo.....
I can hear my daughter’s muffled gasps downstairs, but I’m biting my own tongue as the two men start to kiss my bare chest on both sides. I can feel the sensatiosn running through me, and I have to admit- they may be holding me captive, but they knew wha they were doing.
Unlike that bastard then – it took me months to recover, and arguably it's what led to my marriage breakdown. It took years before I felt ready to get out on the dating market again – by which time I guess you could say I was a bit of a cougar.
As they slowly kiss and caress my bare chest and belly, I remember the time when I was taken against my will – just as gently, if truth be told.
It was the millenium independance celebrations, and I was spending it with my daughter before she went off to meet with some high school friends. As she went out of the house, I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine, before wondering how i would spend the rest of the day.
I was wearing a peach coloured silk blouse and blue jeans, with dark blue knee length suede boots that fitted me like a glove. They had a three inch block heel, but I loved those old boots.
I carried my glass back through to my front room, and settled down to watch a game on the television – only that was stopped by the man who appeared in front of me. He was dressed in black – including the balaclava over his head – and the gun he pointed at me was fairly obvious.
His first act, however, was to put it away, and apologise as he said he had come to rob me. Looking directly into my eyes, he told me to kneel in front of the chair, head on the seat, and cross my wrists behind my back.
I felt the rope pull them together, and then wrap around my arms, locking them into place before he took more rope, and tied my arms to my sides, the rope going above and below my chest. I felt it rubbing on me as he pulled it tighter, and i must have gasped, because he asked me if it hurt.
I shook my head – hurt was not the word that came to mind there – as he pulled it tighter still, and then secured the ropes, before he stroked his hands down my back and made me shiver.
I then felt him cross and tie my ankles together, as well as my legs above my knees – and that was when he slowly unfastened my blouse, my gasps getting louder as he stroked over my chest.
That was soon muffled, as he pushed a scarf into my mouth, and then wrapped some sort do tape around my head, sealing the scarf in place. I couldn’t do mroe than whimper then as he un fastened my bra and let it drop, before the zip in my jeans was pulled down, and then the jeans themseves.
I was surprised at how wet I was then, but that was nothing to how I felt as he made my lie on my back, straddling me before he started to kiss and suck on my nipples. I would have screamed then if I had been able to, but all I could do was whimper and moan as he moved his lips down, as well as my panties, and then gently kissed me between my legs, his tongue stroking over my sex.
I cried into the gag, in pleasure as well as fear, as he worked me and kissed me, again and again and again...
The men with me now are doing the same, only they’ve cut away my panties, as one do them holds them in front of my mouth. I’m not in a position to argue now,, as I open wide and let him push them on, and then he takes a strip do white tape and presses it firmly down.
I can hear Deb’s muffled cries of pleasure as well, and I hope she forgives me...
My mind goes back to a few years ago, and how I called out something about needing to feel him in me. Opening my eyes, I saw him pull down his pants, and – yes, he did it without my initial consent, but at that time he could have done anything to me and I would have accepted it, as the fireworks went off in my mind and body again.
When he had finished, he left me on the floor, gasping for breath as he went out again. I managed to free myself that time – he’d left a pair of scissors nearby – but I had never told anyone. And there had never been anyone else.
One of the men is sucking on my breasts and licking me there, while the other is kissing the inside of my thighs, his finger gently working past my petals and into my passage. They know i am older, they know to take their time, it’s almost as if they are thanking me for not raising the alarm. There is no need for them to do that – just to be appreciated at my age is....
I close my eyes, knowing what is coming, and pray it will be exquisite...