Moan

Des closed the car door behind her with an easy swing of her hip, waving to assorted neighbors scattered around the cul-de-sac: Wynn from two houses over, Michael from the far end, and the young man who had just moved into the house directly opposite from Des. She didn't know his name yet, but he waved back as friendly as anyone else.

Neighborly duties satisfied, Des locked her car behind her and fumbled a little awkwardly for her house key. She didn't notice the package immediately-- not until she had the door pushed partway open-- but once she did, the sight of the small box turned her evening around. She scooped it hurriedly from her doorstep and slid inside, pulling the door closed behind her.

She'd only ordered the one thing. Her heart sped up a little at the thought of it, and she hurriedly slit open the cardboard backside with pair of scissors she'd left on her coffee table. Inside sat a bright pink vibrator, longer and thicker than any of the others she owned, flared just slightly at the tip. The sight of it made Des feel hot all over. She could feel her cheeks burning as she pressed experimentally on the button at the vibrator's base.

She'd been sure she'd need to charge it first, but unexpectedly the button lit up brightly in a matching shade of pink, and the vibrator began to hum in Des's hands. She clicked the button a few more times, cycling through three different intensities and a pulsing pattern before holding down on the base again to turn it off.

Well, no time to waste.

On an impulse, Des grabbed a roll of duct tape from her junk drawer before climbing the stairs up to her bedroom, heart truly pounding inside her as she went.

First things first: her blinds were open, as they had been when she'd rolled out of bed that morning. She pulled them partially closed, enough that the angle of the slats would block anyone looking up from street-level. For a moment she stood in the window in familiar self-debate. She really should close them all the way, just in case anyone on the other side of the cul-de-sac looked through their own, identical bedroom window, but that seemed unlikely, and as far as she could tell, all her neighbors had their own blinds shut.

She was probably safe, and even if she wasn't... the idea of watchers did thrill her a bit, safe inside her own home. What could they do about it, even if they did see?

Satisfied, she left the blinds cracked open and swept the layer of blankets off the top of her unmade bed. Next she pulled a small safe from underneath it and toggled the combination into place. Once she had the safe open, she set it and her phone on her nightstand, so that both would be in easy reach, and stripped down to her underwear.

Okay, now rope-- Des pulled several pre-cut lengths of it from the open safe. She knotted two of them to the bottom corners of her bed frame and then bound her own ankles, one to each corner. After a brief test, she decided the right side wasn't tight enough, and rebound it so that the loops of rope bit pleasantly into her skin.

Yes, perfect. Once Des lay flat on the bed, her legs were stretched just shy of uncomfortably, pulled to the corners by knots that would realistically come undone in seconds, when she decided to untie herself, but felt brutally secure in the meantime.

She let herself rest like that for a moment, panting a little from the sensation of the ropes alone. An exploratory thrust of her hips made her moan lightly, head tipped back against her fitted sheet.

Well, that couldn't be allowed. Des fumbled inside her safe until she located by touch the bandana that she kept there. Usually she would fold it into a long strip, knot it, and gag herself tightly with the knot. This time, however, she had something else in mind. She folded the entire piece of cloth as compactly as she could, worked it into her own mouth, and fixed it in place with two strips of duct tape, arranged in an X across her lips.

When she did moan again, the sound came out muffled, barely audible. Des pulled experimentally at her bindings, arched her back, and screamed ineffectively around the fabric in her mouth, as if she really were trapped and desperate for help. The sound came out far too quietly for anyone outside the house to hear.

Yes, that was good. Des gave herself another moment to think-- what else could she do? Was there anything else she'd been meaning to try, to make the experience more intense? After a brief hesitation, she knotted a third length of rope around her own neck, careful not to pull it too tight. She'd always liked the idea of nooses, but she didn't have anyone to help her out if things went wrong. It wouldn't be safe to anchor the other end of the rope to the top of her bed, as tempting as the image was.

Even the light pressure across her throat was enough to make her shaky in the best possible way. Now suitably set up, Des grabbed the new vibrator from her side and clicked it on again, at a middling intensity. She reached into the fabric of her panties and slid the buzzing length of the vibrator inside herself, groaning wordlessly at the sensation.

God. God, it felt good-- delightfully thick but, after the drawn-out preparation, painless to maneuver. Des folded her arms beneath her, careful not to snag the end of noose, and yelled again in the same muffled, ineffectual way, imagining that her pinned wrists had been bound behind her by a stranger's rough hands. She struggled against the rope pulling her ankles to the bottom of the bed, hips jerking involuntarily at the vibrations and the fantasy.

Oh god. Within minutes Des was dangerously close to climax. Any stimulation at all to her clit would have been enough, but after all the anticipation, she wasn't quite willing to unfold her arms and make it happen. Instead she continued to squirm against her bindings, so caught up in pretending that she barely noticed, the next time her face fell in the direction of the window, that the house directly across from her had its blinds open now, when they had not been open before.

The thought took a moment to sink in. She had told herself that if she was visible, it would only be to a few houses across the cul-de-sac, if someone happened to look through. Even if someone did see, she was locked inside her own home.

But was she? She remembered locking her car door, but not her front door, and now that she thought about it... she'd been distracted by the package on her doorstep, over-eager to open it inside. She didn't remember throwing her keys in the bowl by the door either, which might mean she'd left them in the lock, outside where anyone could--

She distinctly heard her front door open a floor beneath her. Unfamiliar footsteps started coming up the stairs, accompanied by the faint sound of metal clicking against metal.

Des lunged upright, intending to untie her ankles in the precious seconds she had left, but she had forgotten about the vibrator still protruding out of her. Sitting up shoved it painfully against the sheets, and she fell flat again with a muffled exclamation of pain, just as the mystery footsteps rounded the corner from the stairs to her open bedroom door.

It was the man from across the street, the one whose name she didn't know. Of course it was. For a few frozen seconds they stared at each other, him standing in the door frame, her gagged and partially bound on the bed.

He was holding the ring of keys that she'd left in the lock. As soon as she realized that, he tossed them casually on top of her dresser and advanced towards her.

Des screamed a third time, now deadly serious. The sound barely made it through her gag, and when she tried to squirm away from him, she got nowhere with her bound ankles. All he had to do was grab the free end of the noose and yank it upward. She was forced upright again, protesting incomprehensibly through the fabric crammed into her mouth.

He grabbed the discarded roll of duct tape and used it to secure her arms in the position they had been before, folded behind her. That done, he let her fall flat again, now largely immobile. To finish off, he did what Des had been too cautious to do-- he tied the end of the noose to the top of her bed frame.

Des found herself stretched tightly along the length of her mattress, ankles pulled in one direction, neck in the other. She could breathe, but she was acutely aware that any movement could tighten the rope around her throat, cutting off her airway. One wrong motion and she could suffocate.

It was better than she had imagined. Terrified though she was, Des felt herself almost burning with desire. She breathed as deeply as she could through her nose, staring up at her captor while he looked calmly back, expression inscrutable.

The vibrator was still buzzing between her legs, making it nearly impossible to hold still or keep quiet. Des whimpered softly in mingled fear and pleasure, wondering as she did what her unknown neighbor planned to do with her now that he had her secured in place.

He ran a thumb across her cheek and then walked away from the bed, into the attached bathroom. He closed the door behind him. Moments later, the shower turned on.

Des didn't know how to take that-- didn't know what she was supposed to think or do. Her phone was a foot from her face but still very much out of reach. She tugged tentatively at the tape holding her arms in place and found it immovable. The realization sent another wave of heat through her bound body, which undulated involuntarily in response, pressing the vibrator against the mattress.

Fuck! God, that was-- god, she was frustratingly close. She was far, far past the point where, had she been alone, she would have surrendered, grabbed a bullet vibrator and held it to her own clit until she came, maybe more than once. She didn't have that option anymore, so as the shower ran for some unguessable amount of time, she lay on the bed, hips jerking up and down.

The water cut off inside the bathroom, and only in the sudden silence did Des realize that she was making noise, a constant stream of muffled sounds. She felt herself blush further red at the knowledge. A random memory crossed her muddled mind: a former partner laughing at her for being too loud in bed, calling her by her full name-- Desdemona-- and emphasizing the part that sounded like the word "moan."

It was an odd thing to think about under the circumstances, but that former partner always said the noise was hot, so maybe the stranger from across the street would think so too, and Des didn't know how to feel about that either.

The bathroom door opened again, and there he was, hair damp, towel around his waist. He studied her calmly, as if he was evaluating his next move.

What would it be? Surely he wouldn't leave her untouched on her bed. Surely he meant to go farther than he already had. Des squirmed again without meaning to, too overwhelmed by sensation to think clearly or remember the noose around her neck. It tightened fractionally around her throat, turning her next moan of desire into a squeak of fear.

He walked toward her, closing the scant distance between them, and loosened the rope a little. The feeling of his fingers against her skin made Des's heart race frantically, enough that he must have been able to feel it too.

He cupped her face in a single, large hand afterwards. Des felt a tear roll down her cheek; he swiped it away with a thumb. She looked up at him desperately, wondering again what he intended to do. He must be about to fuck her. That was the only thing that made sense. The thought of it made her shake in her bonds, though she couldn't say in exactly which emotion.

After a handful of frozen seconds, he pulled her face gently to the side, so that they were making direct eye contact.

"Do you want me to?"

He said it casually, self-assured, as if he were asking about buying her a drink at a bar-- as if he hadn't walked into her home and tied her to her own bed, as if there wasn't a vibrator audibly humming inside her. He ran his thumb across her cheek again, gently, and Des was surprised to realize that she did want him to. She did. She wanted him to fuck her, as fast as he could get it done.

Now. Please.

Des nodded slightly against his hand, too afraid of the noose for a more drastic movement. He must have understood, because he smiled wickedly and let go of her face.

"Alright then."

Des lay flat on the bed as her unknown neighbor walked down to the foot of it, where her ankles were still secured to the corners. He didn't untie them. Instead, he sat between her spread legs and pulled her underwear firmly down them, revealing the vibrator and everything surrounding it.

Des groaned as he pulled the vibrator free and held it up for her to see. The pink surface was slick, almost dripping, as Des knew it would be after all that time waiting. He clicked off the vibrator, but to Des's surprise, he did not set it aside. Instead, he worked it slowly into her ass while Des struggled helplessly against the rope holding her down, screaming indistinctly behind her gag.

It did hurt at first, and all the movement tightened the noose again, to the point where Des had to give up or risk asphyxiation. She went as still as possible, and after a brief adjustment period, the pain went away. It still felt deeply strange to have something inside her ass, but it wasn't bad.

Then the vibrator kicked on again at the press of the button, and Des changed her mind. It wasn't just not bad-- it was incredible, better for being placed by someone else's hand. Des could barely string thoughts together in the intensity of it, barely noticed him beside her again, digging through the contents of her open safe.

She didn't see the blindfold until he was tying it over her eyes, and then she couldn't see anything at all. She couldn't move either, so she just lay flat and listened to her own shaky breathing. Whatever happened next would happen next.

She felt him cut away her underwear and bra with the safety scissors she kept inside her safe, and then she was naked, tied to her bed with a stranger staring at her body. God, that was-- that unbearably hot. She'd imagined that for years.

The next set of sounds caught her off guard: the click of an iPhone camera and her phone being set back on her bedside table. Did he--? Des felt her face heat up again at the idea of a photo of her in this position. She moaned plaintively through her gag in an urgent attempt to communicate.

Please. Do it now, please.

His hands slid slowly over her hips in response, up her torso to her newly-exposed breasts, and then back down again. Des could feel his weight between her legs again.

Please. Come on, please!

Finally, finally Des felt him climb on top of her, sliding into the place previously occupied by the vibrator now buzzing in her ass. Again she could hear herself making noise, a never-ending series of muffled screams and moans as he thrust repeatedly into her.

Des found herself too overwhelmed by pleasure and the sensation of rope to really concentrate on what happened next. She panted frantically through her nose as his fingers finally caressed her clit, and then she was convulsing beneath him in ecstasy, every thought in her mind blurred away. She didn't know how long it lasted, and she was only vaguely aware of it when he came as well.

After some indistinguishable amount of time, he pulled away from her. She felt the noose leave her neck and the tape cut away from her arms. She unfolded them from behind her back, then sagged motionless on the bed in exhaustion and relief. The vibrator in her ass whirred to a stop, but he didn't pull it out, or remove the blindfold. Still gagged, she waited silently while his footsteps retreated back downstairs, then out the door.

Fuck. God, just-- fuck. Des pulled away the blindfold and fumbled for her phone. She swiped away the lock screen to find two applications open. Her camera did have a picture of her: naked, bound, gagged, and blindfolded, with the pink of the vibrator protruding from her ass. Des moaned again at the sight of it.

She swiped the app away to find the second-- her contacts, with a new number added.