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Review This Story || Author: whisky

Home Invasion

Part 1

As she finished cinching the the latest coil tightening the imprisonment of my wrists, I silently reflected on my current situ

As she finished cinching the the latest coil tightening the imprisonment of my wrists, I silently reflected on my current situation and how I came to be in such a dangerous position.

 

The night started pretty much the same as any since the divorce and moving into this apartment complex. After arriving home and changing out of the office clothes, I came down in my workout shorts and t-shirt. I grabbed my keys began to reach for the door when there was a knock.  It startled the heck out of me since I was not expecting anyone (I had not yet had a soul to my new place) so as I opened the door I simultaneously fumbled my keys to the ground.  As the door swung wide, a rather plain looking woman, slightly taller than me and perhaps weighing the same (I am of slight build) began to speak as I reached for the dropped keys.  Just before the keys were in hand I thought I heard something like "Fuck it" and the next thing I knew I was kicked in the head by this woman's knee.  I stumbled sideways, stunned, and heard the door shut hard, not exactly a 'slam'.  The door chain was engaged and the bolt was turned.  As I started to recover the woman gave me a full leg kick in the stomach, knocking most of the air out of my lungs.  As I went to my knees to gasp for air a she popped me on the side of my head with her palm, sending me reeling to the ground.

 

I started to defend myself, groggily determined to understand why this was happening.  But she just kept coming with fists and legs, connecting time and again.  I finally was able to latch onto her waist and wrench her to the ground.  We grappled and wrestled for several minutes like two drunken sailors; every time I felt I was starting to win the battle she would somehow struggle out of my hold and place me in a hold that sapped more and more of my strength. With each new move I started to see she was actually enjoying this while I felt as if I was fighting for my life.  Plain and simple: she was a much better wrestler/fighter than I.  It became more and more apparent she was toying with me, placing me in holds that she always wanted to try on someone and now she could.  Finally I began to tire, her Amazonian strength was wearing me out.  In what she likely considered her finishing move, she spun around behind me and trapped my arms behind me using only her legs, locking the legs up against my shoulders and leaving her hands free.

 

Panting and exhausted, it was at that point that I noticed the small duffle bag she had brought into the apartment. With my hands trapped behind me I felt loops of cord bind my wrists together.  It was a strange feeling, almost like a boa constrictor with arms was fastening my wrists together.  The pain was tremendous, with my arms tangled up in her legs, so the thought of screaming came and passed with the promise of more pain should I do so.  With my hands secured she pulled me to one side and jumped on my back.  Yanking a chunk of my hair, the pain caused me to gasp - at that very moment a huge red ball was jammed into my mouth to silence any further protests.  The ball seemed too big when she brought it around my face but I felt the ball pass behind my teeth.  Once in place she roughly strapped the gag into place, grunting with effort as she did to get the buckle to the tightest position.  Now totally subdued, she could carry on with her work.  She looped another rope between my wrists and pushed the rope underneath my sore stomach and back around the body, tying the rope to itself to fasten the wrists to my waist.  As if I needed her to remind me of my helplessness, she grabbed my legs and twisted them like a pretzel to show her total control.

 

Sitting on my wrists she pulled my gym shorts and underwear off my torso, leaving my bottom half exposed.locking her legs around mine just above the knees she endlessly coiled rope above and below my knees until they welded together.  Teasing me as a prison guard teases an inmate, she ground her crotch against my bound hands. She then sat on the back of my thighs and tightly tied my ankles to complete immobility.  She finally slowed down and confidently took a breather, giving me a chance to take stock.

 

What the hell, I thought.  Do I know this woman?  What is the purpose here?  Before I finished the questions in my mind she was lifting me up to my feet.  I shakily stood, very unstable and about to fall back to the floor when she grabbed the rope around my waist, bent down and threw me over her shoulder.  She hauled me upstairs to my bedroom and slung me onto the bed.  As a typical male, I guess one thought among many was that I was going to get sex out of this after all. But that was quickly dismissed when she pulled my desk chair to the front of my bed and opened my closet.  She slid me over to the chair and began to tie my thighs to the chair seat.  She then grabbed a roll of duct tape and began to wind it over and over my gag until I thought she would seal my ability to breathe.  Then she wound a few lengths across my eyes to blindfold me. As she still had the tape in hand she decided to bind my fingers so that any measly hope of untying a knot or two was out of the question.  She then took a pair of scissors and completed my disrobing by cutting the t-shirt off  She untied the rope linking my wrists to my waist and for a moment I thought I had an opening - but a swift backhand to my face stopped that notion.  She grabbed by arms and pulled them over the back of the chair.  She then began wrapping more rope around my wrists and arms, alternately linking to the chair back, ending my hope for freedom - which is where we started the story.

 

She's almost done now as I sit confined to a chair in my own apartment.  A woman I don't know has beaten me, easily overpowered me and thoroughly tied me up in my own castle.  As she finishes tying my feet to the center rung of the chair she slides me into the closet, chuckles to herself and closes the door.  I test the bonds and they are so tight, so tight.  I hear her rummaging through drawers, and after a few minutes I hear her looking though things downstairs as well.  I hear the door close and think it is over, but then the door opens again...is my captor going to release me after all?  But no, she now has the run of the house and takes what she will to her vehicle, taking her time, as many trips as it takes.  She is in no hurry, as I sit screaming into the taped gag, not moving an inch as I struggle. To the victor go the spoils! 


Review This Story || Author: whisky
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