Real Property

Two years ago, my girlfriend and I were seriously looking to buy a home on the Olympic peninsula of western Washington. We had been pre-approved and were looking at a home that was recently listed. It had problems that were out of our range of expertise and decided to pass on it. The agent representing the property was professional and when he asked us if he could find other similarly priced homes for us to see, we agreed.

He was a little too pushy at times and we really had to assert exactly what our search criteria was. He found many listings for us and there were quite a few that seemed worthy for bidding. We met with the owner of one home that was selling without an agency. It seemed too good to be true so when we went to make up an offer, one of the first contingencies was for the home to pass inspection by a certified professional. This is common knowledge and a smart thing to do.

Our agent didn’t think so. He tried telling us that the owner was going to be given numerous bids and for us to offer with no contingencies or any delaying factors entirely. We, of course, thought this was insane and decided to walk away from the deal - AND our agent. We made the woman a verbal offer of her asking price and amazingly she accepted. We contacted an escrow attorney to write up all the official work and hired an inspector for the necessary checks. Well, he found a problem with the supports in the crawl space under the house that required around ten thousand in repairs. Fortunately, the seller agreed to drop the price down that amount.

Meanwhile, my wife had been looking for her pocketbook for days and in tracing her steps, realized it must be at one of the empty homes we’d looked at. We called their realtor to accompany us to the property and she willingly agreed to meet that evening.

We arrived to find the agent was already inside so we opened the front door to let ourselves in.

“Hello! Hello?” we called out.

A woman in a long rain coat appeared around the corner.

“Come on in. I was just looking for your purse,” she said.

“Pocketbook,” my girlfriend corrected her.

“A what?!” the woman said abruptly.

“It’s only a pocketbook.”

“Well, let’s look in the basement,” the agent suggested.

As we descended the stairs I reminded my girlfriend that we never saw the basement of this place and that the pocketbook was never here or had been already taken.

Suddenly the door to the stairs closed and a familiar voice said, “Looking for this?”

We turned to find our former agent standing with my girlfriend’s belonging in one hand and a duffle bag in the other.

“Keep Moving!” he shouted.

We walked into the basement.

“You fuckers screwed me over. I’ll let you know I’ve maxxed your credit cards out. You wont be buyinganything soon. Would you like to know what I bought?”

“A get out of jail pass?” I asked.

“No, but some of my new toys are with me right now,” he says as he unzipped his bag.

He begins to pull out some major bondage equipment.

Handcuffs, leather - lots of leather, hoods, whips and other restraints. There were chrome items as well as rubber gags and collars.

My girlfriend began to leave but was grabbed by the woman. A struggle ensued but the woman overpowered her with a full Nelson. I jumped and punched the woman who continued her fierce hold on my girlfriend.

The man wrestled me to the ground and had his knee on the back of my neck.

A shot of electricity ran through me as his stun gun poked my side. In no time my wrists were cuffed behind my back and my flailing feet were restrained with ankle cuffs. He threw me into a corner as he made his way back to my girlfriend. By the time I had scrambled to an upright position, the two had torn off her clothes except for her bra and panties. She kicked wildly at the man but was herself given a long shock by the stun gun.

I lunged at the man but was easily subdued and was once again on my face. This time the woman was on my back and stuffing an oversized rubber ball into my mouth. She wrapped electrical tape around my jaw and then stood up to remove her raincoat. It was little surprise that she was stark naked underneath except for shoes.

I was having difficulty breathing and chose not to struggle for the moment. Again, I was flipped back over as the woman sat on my back. I was helpless as the man handcuffed my girlfriend and cuffed her ankles. He ordered her to her knees as he searched the sparse basement. He returned with an old kitchen chair - the kind people tend to leave behind when possible.

“What size are you? 36b? 36c? Let’s have a look,” he said.

In one swift move he unclasped her bra and her boobs swayed upon release.

“What did I say?” as he examined the tag. “36c!”

“What is my reward for guessing right?”

As her bra slid down her arms to her cuffed wrists, the man (and everyone in the room) noticed her nipples becoming fully erect. They had the tendency to grow an inch long but I was really wishing this was not one of those times.

“Holy shit! That’ll do,” said the man.

He wasted no time tugging and pulling on the nipples but was surprised when her teeth bit down on his arm.

He let out a scream and examined the bite mark. He then gave her one hard slap across the face.

She took the blow surprisingly well and remained on her knees.

The man then struck the other side of her face and watched.

She gave no response.

Without a word he grabbed his bag and pulled out some cord. He released the cuffs from my girlfriend’s ankles and had her sit in the chair backwards. Her legs were tied to the chair’s legs and her wrists were bound to her legs. The woman got up and began to fondle my girlfriend’s boobs after fitting her mouth with a rubber gag. I knew better than to move but I had no idea what was in store for her. Soon a short leather whip was pulled from the bag and the first of many lashes found its way across the middle of her back. Immediately, she arched her back and let out a muffled shriek. After three or four whips, the woman interrupted and pulled my girlfriend’s satin panties down a little for maximum exposure. The whipping commenced for at least ten agonizing minutes. Her back was red and blotchy with scores of raised welt lines and spots of blood.

The man carefully coiled the whip and returned it. I noticed him adjust his crotch repeatedly during the whipping and now he had removed his pants completely. He was wearing what looked to be a jockstrap in reverse made from latex. The butt was concealed but his erect cock and nuts hung free and uncovered. He clenched his nuts with one hand and carried electric shears in the other. He handed the clippers to the woman as she searched for an outlet. By this time, my girlfriend was only shaking her head as he approached and pulled her hair into a pony tail. His cock was right in her face and visibly becoming more erect. His scissors cut her brunette locks to no more than an inch.

“Slaves don’t need hair. Slaves don’t need an identity,” he reminded her.

Then came the woman with the shears. She stood behind my girl and began to shave her from the forehead to the nape.

“Hold Still!” the man ordered.

I knew what was next as he unsnapped her ball gag.

Saliva and tears dripped from her mouth and nose as he prepared to slide his cock between her lips. His hands gripped her ears as the newly shorn clippings fell around her head. She was sobbing and I had to look away.

Soon the sound of her crying was muted as he slid back and forth. I looked up after a minute to see her head rocking as he stood motionless. The woman clicked the shears off and stared in admiration. I saw my girlfriend occasionally glance toward me without that previous look of terror.

I wasn’t sure but thought she was enjoying it.

The woman decided to pull out of a bag a long dildo and clutched it between her breasts as she watched this scene. She could remain a spectator no longer as she rubbed her crotch against the stubble of my girlfriend’s head. The man kissed his wife’s nipples as his palms supported her heavy, sagging tits.

I looked away again but could still hear the unmistakable sound of my girlfriend’s moan as the man pumped in and out of her lips.

They began to say obscenities to her. He called her awful names and accused her of wanting him from the time they met. Her moans continued despite the ass hole’s ranting.

The man announced to the room he was about to climax. I looked up to see him grinding his hips as she made every effort to keep her lips around his pulsating shaft. It was a sickening scene worsened by the fact that my girl had just swallowed his load after making no attempt to spit it out.

The ass hole began searching for something and went upstairs.

I called out a few names to our captures but they didn’t seem to listen. I ordered for them to release me but then I felt the wrath of the stun gun again. The woman was standing over me in all her glory.

“Shut the fuck up, boy!” she shouted.

She stuck the stun gun against my inner thigh and gave me another zap.

The guy returned carrying an old ottoman and set it down. He undid my girlfriend’s confines and sat her on top of it.

Again, the woman delivered a zap to my side that had me writhing on the floor.

“Are you gonna shut up or will I have to beat you into submission?”

This woman was as dangerous as the guy.

I was laying on my side as she began to strike me with a baton. I stopped resisting after a minute and she quit the beatings.

My hopes of any help from my girlfriend were quickly fading as she sat on the ottoman. The man was standing behind her fondling her boobs with his gel covered hands and kissing her freshly shaven head. She tilted her head to the side. Her nipples were erect as her knees rubbed together with clenched toes - he had captivated her. From my experience I could tell she was in a high state of arousal and no doubt a willing participant.

The man reached over and placed an alligator clamp over the tip of her left nipple. She screamed as the sharp teeth bit down. He repeated the treatment to her right nipple as she drew a quick breath. The nips began to turn slightly purple as he flicked the clamps with his finger tips. Her jaw dropped as I’m sure the pain was unbearable. She slowly doubled forward from the pain and the man’s erect cock was in plain view. It was obvious he was once again ready for another round as he leaned her all the way forward and bent her over the ottoman. He winked at me as he kneeled at her side and with one hand around her throat and the other one pulling her panties down. The panties were just out of the way enough for him to have unobstructed access to her pussy. He rubbed his fingers between her sizable butt cheeks that resulted in little moans. An occasional gasp and squeal let me know his fingers had found her forbidden hole. He let go of her throat long enough to reach into his bag and grab a vibrating dildo that quickly found its way to my girlfriend’s rear.

“OH!” she shouted, as he knowingly slid it up and down.

It was at this time my perspective changed and I became aroused. However, this was something I did not want to reveal considering the circumstances or that my girlfriend had clearly demonstrated herself. However, my cock had other plans. It became extremely rigid in spite of my situation.

My concentration was broken as my girlfriend’s voice captured the room.

“Oh,yeah…oh,yeah…oh,yeah” she whispered in rapid succession.

The man had gone from an up and down motion to in and out as the vibrator penetrated her.

I’d only ever heard that response from her once before during sex - on a highway footbridge- and at this moment I realized it was a real orgasm in the works. Unfortunately, I was ten feet away as she finally found ecstasy.

I began to wonder why this man with a perfectly erect hard-on hadn’t buried his shaft in her himself.

My question was answered too soon as he left the vibrator in with her panties holding it in place.

He kneeled behind her and began to slather and stroke his cock in preparation for the next phase of his sadistic adventure. He started to touch her slightly with the head of his dick. She began to grind and he let go of his grip. His cock slid up and down between her flesh like a ship in a storm. She pulled herself forward with her elbows so her ass was at its highest. Her exposed boobs enabled the man to remove the nipple clamps. She shrieked again as he released the clamps but he wasn’t finished with them. He momentarily backed away from my girlfriend and attached them somewhere on her genitals.

“OH! OW!” she screamed again. “Hurry!”

The man gave her whip-marked butt a sound slap. “I give the orders you slut!”

“Flip her over!” the woman demanded.

They both grabbed her body and turned it over on the ottoman. Her ankles were still cuffed so he held her legs straight up as the woman straddled her face.

He grabbed hold of his cock and drove it directly into her ass hole. She gave a shrill scream that was unlike anything I’d heard. Her clenched fists strained in the confined of her handcuffs as the woman guided her pussy onto my girlfriend’s face. She was being double penetrated for the first time and no one could blame her for the noise.

The woman’s ass continued to grind as she was clearly being satisfied.

My girlfriend continued to scream constantly.

The man once again announced he was about to come as his pace increased.

“You’re a fucking whore!” he yelled to her. “Get used to this, bitch!”

She matched his enthusiasm with muffled approval.

The woman’s hands were rubbing my girl’s clit and nipples. Soon the guy came and he slowed to a stop.

He pulled his cock and vibrator out and let her legs drop to the floor.

His wife let out a gasp and briskly strutted away from her new slave.

A set of headlights flashed across the wall as a car turned around in the street and parked.

“It’s the police,” said the man.

He ordered my clothes back on and to answer the door.

“Tell them it’s okay. Tell them you’re a realtor and you didn’t hear a thing. Do it or we’ll cut your girlfriend’s throat.”

I went to the door and spoke to the police who said they had been told of noise coming from the house by a neighbor. I wanted to tell them the truth but decided not to. They were reluctant to leave but I convinced them it was me and that I’d somehow injured myself. I walked with the police back out to the street as they got in their car and left.

When I returned to the basement I heard the garage door open and an engine start. I raced to find my girlfriend standing in her panties and alone.

“They’re gone,” she lamented.

The people and their bondage equipment were down the road as we were left to wonder what was next. My girlfriend picked up her bra but did not put it on because of the whip marks. Her skirt was still in tact and she put it on along with her shredded blouse. I noticed she picked up the clamps that were left behind during the couple’s hasty exit. She put them in her pocket without saying anything as we headed out of the room. In fact, we really didn’t say a word on our way home.

That evening she laid across the bed naked except for the same panties. I rubbed her burning skin with a cool salve that made her shiver. My fingers traced every welt that adorned her olive skin. I slid my fingers under her panties and slowly pulled them down her legs. The shiny fabric was spotted with blood and I tossed them in the corner. I continued to massage the salve into her skin as she suppressed her moans. Her labia glistened as she gently rocked in a subtle grind. I concealed my growing hard-on in order to be sensitive to her but then she got up to use the restroom. She locked the door and then the sound of the shower started. I was feeling slighted so I got up and grabbed a safety pin off her vanity. I pushed it into the door knob’s hole and let myself in. She was in the midst of steam with a hand on her crotch and one behind her. Her eyes widened as I approached but her hands remained. I stepped into the shower with a raging hard-on as she watched in apprehension. I pulled her hands free of their pleasures and she instinctively placed them against the wall and bent over. She was well lubricated with a tube of astro-glide that accompanied her. My palms separated her buns slightly as the head of my cock disappeared into her pussy.

“no…no…” she whispered.

I pulled out and rested my cock against her ass hole to gauge her response. As she wriggled a little I wadded a wet washcloth and stuffed it between her teeth. She paused a little and thrust her big backside towards me. In no time my cock was halfway in and then my nuts came to rest against her. She gasped and bit down with a shriek. Water was spraying everywhere. Her hole provided an extremely tight grip as I began to pump away but I knew I was close to coming. She took one hand down and turned off the hot water then began rubbing her crotch.

I reached up and played with her erect nipples as the shower turned cold. I gave the nipples a hard pinch and a twist.

She responded with a now familiar “oh,yeah…oh,yeah…oh,yeah”

I came the moment she said that but then she whispered,

“Hurt me!”

All I could think of was administering hard slaps on her buttocks which were enough to make her climax.

She seemed slightly embarrassed after we’d finished so we went to sleep.

In the following month we made every attempt to straighten out our credit debacle and to restore it enough to qualify for a home that we never bought. We began to receive heavy doses of porn product literature and bondage equipment ads as a result of the fraudulent purchases. We never pursued legal action against the couple or even spoke of that night.

One evening I returned home from work to find no one home and a note in my girlfriend’s handwriting. It read:

“Dear Carl, I have thought about the night we were taken captive and as you know I haven’t been the same since. I think we’re both painfully aware I enjoyed my role as a submissive and long to be dominated by a true master. This is a void you are unable to fulfill which is why I’ve left to become their slave. I love you, Stacy”

Nearly all of her personal belongings were in the house including her underwear and personal documents. I supposed she wouldn’t need this stuff as a slave but I knew she left on her own volition and she was sincere.

I notified the police and told them exactly what happened but her case is probably collecting dust somewhere and that’s okay; she wanted this.

She had a secret interest in all of this the whole time and I knew it. Among the many shoe boxes she kept was one with a cache of new toys: dildos and vibrating plugs along with those clamps and a new quirt. Most shocking was a cut out page from an alternative paper that featured several circled ads seeking sex slaves and some with brutal wording.

I regret not discussing all this with her. I was not afraid of her telling me she enjoyed the ordeal, that she was bisexual or that she once dabbled in prostitution. No, I simply feared telling her that I envied her treatment and secretly longed to be a slave with her. Now it is too late.

Carl