Fireworks
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.
Until now.
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...
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