Home
Pleasures
Do I take
advantage of the situation when I pay a home visit? Well, I would be lying if I said I don’t from
time to time, but usually one of the things about being a burglar is you want
to get in and out quickly.
But the first
time I did do that? I was fifteen, and I
was spending the day with my Aunt Mildred.
She was in her early thirties – a real fun woman, with long dark hair,
and that day was wearing a white vest top and jeans, the legs tucked into brown
riding boots.
Anyway, she
came into the room and looked at me, and asked if I wanted to play a game with
her. I asked her what sort of game, and
she said cops and robbers. I later found
out just how much my Aunt was into – being tied up, but then it was a complete
mystery to me, so I said okay, and she took me into her back room. There was a chair set in the middle of the
room, and I saw on a table some lengths of washing line.
She knew I was
a scout, so she sat on the chair and put her arms round the back, telling me to
take one of the shorter lengths of rope and tie her wrists together as if they
were two sticks. I had done that at the
last meeting, but it was a different matter to do it to someone I knew.
She wanted me
to do it, so I did it, nice and snugly – and she complimented me on that,
before she told me to tie her ankles to the front legs of the chair. I did that as well, and that was the first
time I heard the sound of rope on leather, of rope on wood, and the sound it
makes when someone tries to move a booted leg while restrained…
Aunt Mildred was
certainly impressed, as I followed her instructions and tied some more rope
round her waist to hold her against the chair back. It was the next thing she told me to do – to
take the longest rope, and wind it round her upper body and the chair back so she
really could not move. Remember, I was
fifteen, and had never done this before.
So I passed the rope round her body and the chair back, under her chest,
and pulled it tight, before she told me to wind it round her above her chest,
and pull it down.
As I did that, my
hands brushed over her chest – and when she sighed, I said sorry. Aunt Mildred smiled and chook her head, and
said it was all right, to carry on. So I
pulled the rope tighter, and tied it off – then I waked in front and looked at
her, her vest stretched over her chest, and her nipples showing.
I must have
stared for a while as she looked at me, and smiled. She asked if I was feeling all right, and I
slowly nodded – before she told me to touch her chest. I did so, very slowly, but she told me not to
be afraid, and closed her eyes as I ran my hands over them.
“Does it make
you feel good to do that as well?”
That question
has always stuck in my head, as the true starting point – because I nodded and
said it did feel good. Aunt Mildred looked
at me, and said she could tell – and I blushed when I looked down and saw the
bulge in my pants. Then she said I could
carry on – so I did as she said it was all right, even sighing at times…
That was when I
was a young lad – and when I left school, I went through an apprenticeship with
a master thief. It was towards the end
of that apprenticeship another opportunity arose.
He took me to a
manor house out in the country, and we both surprised the lady of the
manor. She was in her later forties,
with shortish red-brown hair, and was alone when we arrived in our jumpers,
pants and stocking masks. I vividly
remember what she was wearing – a long sleeved dress, with a dark grey pattern
on the front of the sleeves, and knee length black leather boots with a block
heel.
The
apprenticeship had reached the stage where I could secure someone properly, so
while my tutor kept her covered with a sidearm, I took her wrists behind her
back and lashed them tightly together with soft white cord. She didn’t say a word, as I then took the
longer rope and wrapped it round her arms, pulling it tight under her chest as
he watched.
“Good work,” he
said as I took it round her arms above her chest, pulling it tight again and
repeating the process. I was also taking
great care no to touch her chest as I did this – it was a professional matter,
after all, as I tied the ropes off behind her and then knelt in front of our
host.
Taking more of
the white rope, I crossed her ankles and lashed them tightly together, making sure
I cinched the binding between her legs, and then I secured her legs together
below her knees as well. When I tied
that rope off, my tutor checked them, and then nodded as he handed me the gun, telling
me to sit down and make sure she did not raise the alarm.
I nodded as I
took a seat, the gun on my lap as she looked at me, and then started to wriggle
round, the ropes framing her chest. And
as she wriggled, I kept watching…
“Do you like
what you see?”
I looked at
her, and I remember I said “It’s nothing, Ma’am – just making sure you can’t
raise the alarm for a while.”
“Oh come on
son,” she said quietly, “it may be professional, but I can see you are getting
turned on by this. Come here.”
I stood up and
walked over, as she said “it’s not as if I can stop you – go on, put your hands
on my breasts.” I put the gun where I
could reach it if I needed to, and put my latex gloved hands on her chest. There was something of a pulse as she looked
at me.
“Go on –
squeeze them.” I followed her advice, as
she sighed and said “if I am going to be tied up, then I might as well get some
enjoyment from it. Go on – keep doing
what you are doing.”
Well, the lady
of the manor did tell me to do something – so I squeezed more firmly, my hands sinking
into her chest as it was pushed out by the ropes. She closed her eyes and moaned softly as I
massaged her breasts, and I will admit I was responding physically as well to
what I was doing. How far it would have
gone, I do not know – as my tutor came back in and I stood up.
“It’s okay –
done it a few times myself,” he said with a smile as he rolled up a pillowcase,
and pulled it between her lips, gagging her as he secured the ends at the base
of her neck. She looked at me and said
“Fhkuh” before we both left the room.
Now, after I
graduated it was sometime before I experienced some more home pleasure, but
when it did happen it was another older woman that it occurred with.
This was a
family home on the outskirts of Nottingham, and I had got in through the back
door. My visit was about to end, and I
was in the front room when the front door opened and closed. I stood by the wall and waited as she came
in. She had short red hair, and was
wearing a grey patterned jumper and black leggings, a pair of knee length black
leather boots covering them. She also
had a purple scarf loosely wrapped round her neck, going down the front.
For whatever
reason, she did not see me as she went past, but she soon knew I was there, as I
grabbed her from behind and hand gagged her.
She struggled as I held her against me, and rubbed against my crotch,
taking me by surprise. So I whispered
into her ear and told her I had no problem with her doing that, but if she did
not stop struggling, I may have to hurt her instead.
That made her
stop for a moment, as I told her to just put her hands behind her back, and I
would make sure she was secured safely. For
some reason, she stopped and did not look round, opting instead to move her
hands behind her back and cross her wrists.
I took from my
pocket a length of white cord and lashed
her wrists tightly together, then for some reason I held her again, hand
gagging her – and I could feel her fingers on my crotch as I she wriggled
against me.
I then told her
to stand still, and if she did as I said, she would have some fun. I walked round and looked at her as I opened my
bag, took out a longer length of rope, and walked behind her again. The rope went round her and as I pulled it
tight under her chest, she moaned – moans that got louder as I took the rope
above and below her chest, pulling it tight as her arms were forced into her
sides, her chest forced up and out.
When I was
done, I pulled the rope tight and let the long end drop to the floor, before I
walked round and looked at her. She was smiling,
as I squatted down, put my hand between her legs, and then pulled the rope
through and up, hearing her groan as I pulled it tight, and then secured it
round the band framing her chest, so that they were even tighter round her
breasts.
She then closed
her eyes as I unfastened her scarf and went back behind her, pulling the
material between her lips as I made sure she was gagged for the moment. I then secured her legs together, at her
ankles and below her knees, as she stood still.
Well, I already
had her valuables in my bag, so this was true pleasure, as I reached round and
squeezed her breasts with both hands.
She groaned as I did that and my actions pressed her against me, and her
fingers stroked over my groin in time with my massage. She was certainly having the more than
desired effect on me as my fingers sunk into her firming flesh under the
jumper, and I felt the throbbing in my own pants as she played with me there.
It was the most
glorious of feelings, for me an for her – as she wriggled, I knew that rope must
be rubbing on her somewhere that was making her happy, because her groans grew
louder, and then her whole body started to shake as she tried to grip me.
I could feel
something as well, so I let her drop to her knees as I left the room to –
ensure there was no stain left, shall we say.
When I returned, she was lying on her side, a grin where the scarf was
pulling back the corners of her mouth as she watched me leave…
And so it was,
if the time was right, I would make sure the ladies I visited had pleasure –
and gave me pleasure – if the opportunity arose. The older ladies I pay a visit to do seem
especially open to this – and sometimes they instigate the fun.
She was in her
early sixties, the wife of the mayor of a market town, and the possessor of
some fine pieces of jewellery – or at least she had been until I had gained
entry into the house and put them into my bag.
At the time of my entry, nobody had been resident – so it was unfortunate
that I was about to descend to the ground floor and depart and she
returned.
She was wearing
a white fleece over a camel coloured wool sweater, a very large pale blue patterned
chiffon shawl wrapped round her neck and the front. She was also wearing blue jeans, and a pair
of knee high black leather boots with the cuff turned down. She had red-brown hair that was windblown,
and a strange expression on her face when she saw me standing there with a
balaclava over my head.
After a few
minutes, she said “Well, it would appear you are robbing me – does that mean
you have to stop me raising the alarm?”
I replied I
would have to, as she unravelled the scarf and then removed her fleece. “Well, at least allow me to be comfortable,”
she said as she looked at me through rose coloured glasses – literally, it was
rose coloured glass.
I nodded as I
invited her to go into her front room, and close the curtains across the bay
windows. I had left my bag there while I
searched the upstairs rooms, so after she had done as I asked, I took her arms behind
her back and secured her wrists tightly together with rope. More rope then went round her body, and as I
pulled it so tight her jumper was stretched, she sighed and actually said “I
had forgotten how that felt.”
I enquired what
she meant by that, as I pulled the bands of rope framing her chest, and she
admitted as a younger woman she had modelled for – well, let’s just say they
were the sort of magazines that if they could be sold legally now, it would be
on the very top shelf.
So she was
obviously reliving old memories, especially when I tightened the bands by
passing the rope between her arms and body.
I then looked at her, my head to one side as she smiled.
“This turns you
on, doesn’t it?”
I nodded and
asked if she was offended.
“No – flattered
actually. I know I should not do this –
but allow me to do something before you really make sure I cannot raise the
alarm.” She sat herself on a seat, and
said “go on – make sure my legs are secured together.”
How could I
refuse such a request? She stretched her
legs out and watched as I wrapped the rope around and between her ankles, the
leather squeaking, and then secured her legs together below her knees, the band
sitting on top of the boots. She then
pushed herself forward and knelt on the floor, as she said “go on – allow me to
thank you for bringing back old memories.”
I nodded as I
slowly opened the front of my pants, and eased my cock out, seeing the look in
her eyes before she leaned over and kissed the tip. I felt the sensation there, before she put
her lips over the tip and then pulled back.
It was a soft
popping sound, but it had the desired effect, as she smiled and then out her
lips over my cock. The feeling of her tongue
as it stroked over the base of my cock as it instantly started to bulge and throb
was - exhilarating.
The next half
an hour passed in the most pleasurable of ways – certainly for me, and I think
for her as well. She knew what she was
doing, and she took it slowly, until there was no way to avoid me giving to
her. And I most generously gave…
When we had
finished, at her request I sued her shawl to gag her – it went round so many
times she could not close her lips when I was done, but it kept her quiet. I also placed her in a light hogtie, before I
made my own exit, leaving her for her partner to find…
Have I ever
needed to force the issue? Not on my own
instigation, I promise you, but yes, there were occasions that fun came in a
slightly – rougher way than may have been needed.
Not in a bad
way, I assure you – in fact, it was her who was rougher…
This was north
of the border, in a Borders village, and I was there to – collect a collection
of snuff boxes. The soon to be ex-owner
of that collection was a footballer in the top division, but he was not at home
when I called.
Who was at home
was his wife – late twenties, short blonde hair, wearing a see-through black
blouse with a black bra underneath, and new jeans with knee length burgundy red
leather boots. I was dressed in black,
including dark glasses, so when I grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth
with my gloved hand, I was ready for her to struggle.
What I wasn’t
really ready for was her to drive the heel of her boot in my foot, and then try
to break free. Oh it hurt – but I know
what I am doing, so she did not break free, but she fought like crazy to do
so. I had to control myself as she rubbed
against me, but I could not shake the feeling there was something else going
on.
I walked her
across the room and forced her to lie face down on a cream leather couch,
before I told her if she didn’t stop struggling, she would end up hurting
herself more than me.
“Please…”
I swear, that
was her response, so I decided this was an occasion for swift securing rather
than taking time, so I took a zip tie from the bag by the side and used it to
secure her wrists together. She was
kicking me in the back as I did this, so I turned and grabbed her ankles,
before using a second zip tie to secure them together as well.
I then told her
if she didn’t stop, I would smack her.
And to prove the point, I got off her and did – hard. I expected her to scream and shout, and I was
ready to silence her with some sticking plaster – I had a roll of it in my
pocket.
What I did not
expect was for her to moan and stop struggling – so I took another zip tie, and
passed it round her elbows, securing them together as well, so tightly that
they almost touched.
She told me to
keep punishing her – and I knew then she was actually enjoying being treated in
this way. Now, I had no intent to
physically harm someone, but I secured her legs below her knees with another
tie, and then used a fifth one as I pulled her ankles back to secure them to
her wrists.
She rolled over
onto her side, looked at me, and told me to smack her again. I asked why I should, and she said she would
scream, so I told her that was easy to stop as I tore a strip of brown fabric
from the roll of sticking plaster. She
just looked at me, and then closed her lips as I pressed the plaster down over
them, and smacked her again.
It wasn’t a
yelp – it was a moan, so for the next hour or so I just smacked and rubbed her
bottom, seeing her get more and more turned on by this action. And when she finally had an orgasm, I just
left her there and found her valuables as well as the snuff boxes…
So does it ever
go all the way? Well – yes…
Last week, I
was visiting the home of a well known actress.
She is in her early fifties, and when I called she was at home, her long
red-brown hair with a hint of grey at the scalp, wearing a sheer and short green
dress and a pair of knee length black leather boots.
She was sitting
in a brown armchair, sipping from a coffee cup, but when she saw me through her
glasses, she wasn’t scared. In fact, she
seemed excited as she asked if I was there to “take advantage of helpless me?”
I looked at her,
and asked her what she thought ‘I was going to do. Her response?
She slipped the top of her dress down from her shoulders, and I realised
she had nothing on under it as she said “I would not be able to stop you taking
me…”
Well, I told
her to take her glasses off, and place them on the table by her seat, and she
smiled as she did that, and then I told her to stand up and take her dress
off. She was more than willing to do
that, as she stood in her boots and nothing else, while I out my bag down and
took out some white rope.
I told her to
turn round and put her hands behind her back, palm t palm, and I started by
securing her elbows together behind her back, and then her wrists, cinching
both bands as she wriggled her fingers.
I then asked if she was all right as I stroked my gloved hands down her
sides, and she actually shook as she nodded.
I then took the
longest length of rope, and passed it round her body, feeling her shiver as my
hands touched her while I pulled the rope tight, and started to frame her chest
with the two bands of rope. Her breasts
were already forced up and out by the fact her arms were bound, and her
shoulder blades had been pulled back, But the extra pressure of the tight bands
made them stick out even more – especially when I took the rope over one
shoulder and tucked it under the lower band, then pull it back up again as she
sighed.
She sighed even
more as I reached round and caressed her breasts, using my fingers to gently
pinch her nipples as she started to rub up against me. As my fingers kneaded the soft flesh, she
started to groan even more as I played with her and helped her to relax.
I was also responding
as well, if truth be told, as I
continued to play with her with one hand, and slipped the other down between her
legs, feeling the dampness there as she moved in response to my touch. I groaned as well, as I made her lie on the
floor and straddled her legs, leaning down and kissing her breasts before I
sucked on her nipples, making her squeal with delight.
She was
wriggling under me as well, as I decided I should for the safety of both of us
keep her quiet. She watched as I reached
into the bag and took out a red sponge ball, which I compressed in my gloved
hand – and she nodded as she opened her mouth wide and allowed me to push the sponge
all the way in. As she closed her lips
over it, her cheeks bulged out, and as I pressed white tape down over her lips
she mumbled her thanks – and then her moans as I went back to kissing her
breasts.
As I did so,
she wrapped her legs round me and did some bump and grind – which was having
the desired effect on me as well, as I unfastened my pants and pulled them and
my boxers down. She looked at me and
nodded after I made sure I was using all necessary protection as well, and
then…
Well, I am sure
I do not need to say what happened next.
Suffice to say when I was done, she was satisfied – especially when I
secured her legs above and below her knees, and her ankles, and left her in a
very strict hogtie while I adjusted my accoutrements, and went to raid her
house.
So there you
are – it’s the little home pleasures that really matter…
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