Robbed and Taken

"Ummm, hello?" I ask in a very confused tone as I walk into my living room. The sight I see is so foreign that for a moment I wonder if I'm hallucinating. At least I can say that my tone is manly despite being so confused.

I've just come in from the laundry room, where I'm carrying a basket of clothes from the dyer. As I work from home, I'm able to wash my clothes whenever I want during the day, which is rather nice. It might be silly, but I dislike washing my boxers while my wife is around, and much rather do it alone.

I'm in my living room, where there's a woman standing at the other end of the room, leaning against the wall. I have no clue who she is, as only my wife and myself live here and we have no kids. And this chick doesn't even look like she would be friends with either my wife or I, so I know it's not one of them doing a surprise visit.

"Hi," the woman says with what I think is supposed to be a seductive smile. The woman is very beautiful in a dangerous sort of way. She's the type that looks as if she's been in jail and liked it. You know the type, where all the other women would automatically know she's the one in charge.

Her body type is very slender instead of thick or muscular as you might except of that type of person. And if I may be honest, she looks very top heavy as the black top she wears sort of accents her larger chest as I can see her cleavage. In fact, her outfit of tight blue jeans, black tight top and jean jacket make her look like a biker model. Even her mocha skin tone seems to get accented by that outfit.

"Can...I help you?" I ask a bit incredulously as she acts as if this is normal way to meet. She seems to be fine with being in someone else's house, like it's the most common thing ever. In a way it's downright scary because she just smiles at me instead of looking like she just got caught. I would expect her to take off running to get out after such an encounter.

She just smiles and nods yes to answer me. Again I wasn't expecting this, so I'm at a loss of what more to say. What do you do in this situation? Charge at her? Tell her to get face first on the ground? Or just tell her to get the fuck out?

"Why are you in my house?" I ask bluntly after a few moments, thinking this is the best approach. To this she crosses her arms in a distinct 'what you going to do about it pose.' It gives a bad shudder down my spine as I have a feeling this is going to end badly. The fact she has zero fear gives me quite a bit of fear.

"Oh, I'm robbing you," she finally answers, as calm as can be. My eyebrows lift at this, as it wasn't what I was expecting. Robbing me? Her?

"You are robbing me?" I repeat, making sure I heard her correctly. Granted, she looks bad ass, but she can't weight but 130 pounds. I'm 180 and mostly muscle thanks to exercising. Plus, I have years of martial art training and have been in plenty of real-life scraps in my 41 years on this earth.

Most of those scraps were against loser-dorks or drunk assholes, but a fight is a fight. Just because I spent more time playing D & D instead of getting black out drunk playing poker doesn't matter. I can handle myself, especially against someone as small as her.

"Yes, robbing you," she tells me and then pulls out a very shiny silver gun. Instantly, cold fear moves over me as she holds it casually in her hand. She doesn't point it at me, but points at the roof in what is clearly a warning. I will say her smile has grown a great deal now, showing she knows she is in charge. This combined with how comfortable she is holding it scares me right down to my toes.

"H-How the hell did you even get in?" I ask in complete shock. I ask in hopes of keeping this causal and not freaking her out, even if I'm starting to freak. I do know if I keep her calm, maybe nothing bad will happen. Maybe I can talk my way out of this.

"Oh, you left a window unlocked," she says, motioning to the master bedroom with a backward glance with her free hand. Again she says this casually, as if it's a normal piece of conversation.

"I saw you walking about in here, all alone, about an hour ago and decided to rob you," she offers. My confusion grows more from this, as it doesn't make sense. Did she say an hour ago?

"Are you...are you saying you've been in the house...for an hour?" I ask her, thinking that is what she just implied. Her smile brightens once again as she nods in the affirmative, revealing that she has. She's been in my house, with me, for an hour.

"Been in the bedroom mostly, just hanging out. Heard you walking all over, doing laundry, playing at the computer, listening to YouTube," she mentions. When she tells me this, another cold fear runs up my spine as she is correct. That does sound like what I have been doing this morning. I was waiting for work to come in for my job, so I decided to do some chores as I waited.

"Alright. Ok. Let's talk about this. No one wants this to end bad, alright?" I tell her, imploring her to be calm, even if I'm the one that isn't. I try to show that I'm calm and am not going to freak out. There's not going to be any running for the police, or hero moves. She can just take what she needs and goes.

"Geez, happy to see me?" She asks with a giggle as she points towards my waist with the gun. Again confused, I look down. I have the basket of clothes on my right hip since it has the groove on the basket. But I am able to look at my midsection.

She was pointing to the fact I have a hard-on. Looking down, it's clear I have one as my basketball shorts are tented, badly as the erection pokes out. It is, by far, the most embarrassing moment of my life. It makes me look like some sort of weird incel sex person that is getting off of being robbed by a woman.

"N-N-No. That...that started earlier, I swear," I tell her honestly, remembering feeling it as I emptied the dryer. No clue why I have wood at the moment, but it's not like I can control it. Guys body are just weird sometimes when they get like this. Not much I can do about it. We just get wood at times. No explaining it, you know?

"Oh I bet. Started about 15 minutes ago, right?" She then asks with a knowing smile. My eyes widen at this, as I'm scared of what it means. How did she know when my hard-on started?

"I bet your coffee was good, wasn't it? Half shot of whisky, right?" She mentions, nearly making me sway as I go a bit dizzy from this. How did she know that I put some whiskey in my coffee? Not that I am a drunk or anything but my throat was a little sore, and it's a trick my dad showed me a long time ago. I rarely do it, except when I start to feel my allergies starting. Just a half shot of whiskey in your coffee and it numbs your throat while you drink lots of water.

"You...you put something in my coffee?" I mean to ask but it comes out as an accusation, remembering how I did go into the master bedroom within the hour. I had my coffee when I went in and put it on the table while I gathered dirty clothes from my closet. There would have been plenty of time for her to put something in my coffee if she really was hiding in there.

"Oh course. The big blue pill for a big boy," she proclaims gleefully. I'm not sure how much wider my eyes can go in shock as I hear this. Viagra? She spiked my coffee with Viagra? Why in the hell would she do that? That's downright crazy! This bitch is crazy!

"W-Why?" I ask completely dumbfounded. For a moment I forget about the gun and that she's an intruder here to rob me. I'm more floored that anyone would do such a thing. After all, she is extremely good looking. I'm sure any guy at any bar anywhere would love to have relations with her, so that can't be the reason. The reason has to be something evil, such as she means to make me to some sexual act that is going to be gross or horrible, like with an animal or something.

"Why?" She ponders seriously. She then places the long barrel of her gun against her cheek and rubs it back and forth in a sensual manner. This scares me a bit as if that gun goes off, poof! She's dead. And she has to know how dangerous that is too and is doing it on purpose. This bitch is completely crazy and I'm terrified.

"Well...I walked by a couple of days ago when I was casing this neighborhood. When I looked in, I saw you and your doting little wife, the two of you playing 'house' so nice and neat. The cute little wife making dinner and you repairing the coffee table like a man is supposed to do," she answers, proving how crazy she is.

"For the first thing I feel like robbing, take off your shirt," she then orders in a stern sounding tone. My heart pounds harder now as it's really starting. Hearing this makes my mind go blank when I should be thinking of more ways to get her to keep talking.

With a deep breath I put the clothes basket on the floor. When I do, my erection seems like it's 5 miles long with it being the only thing that can be seen, but why can I do? In a daze, my hands grab the bottom of my shirt and lift. A moment later, my smooth bare chest is seen as I toss my shirt onto the couch. Yes, I am one of those guys that shaves his chest. I know some will make fun of me, but I like having a smooth chest without any hair on it.

"Good boy," she says with a happy smile, her eyes looking me up and down. As much as I hate this, all of this, I feel my manhood pulse at the way she looks at me. She's just so sexy and hot, and the way she looks at me makes it even worse. When I was younger, I did "stick my dick in crazy" but I got out of that as it was too dangerous, but this is bringing it right back.

"Now..." she says and points the gun directly at me. For some reason this truly worries me as I do believe she could pull the trigger. So I put both of my hands upward in the universal sign of submission, showing that everything is fine and there's no reason for aggression.

"The rest," she orders, motioning with the gun for me to pull the shorts down. As if I was a 15 year old boy being told this, my face reddens in embarrassment. It makes me realize that it's been years since my own wife has told me to pull down my pants to see what I have down there. It's an insanely arousing demand, even if it is silly.

I open my mouth to say that I'm married. That this isn't right, but then I stop myself. She knows I'm married, in fact I have a feeling if I wasn't, she wouldn't be doing this. It makes me stop feeling the shame that's building, as a part of me was ashamed for in part enjoying this. It's not like I really have a choice in the matter do I? It's do as she wants or she'll shoot me.

My face burns even redder as I lower my hands to the waistband of my shorts. I can't believe this is happening, just like I can't believe I'm seeing the intense look of joy and longing on the bitch's face. My fingers grab the waistband tight, where I get both the shorts and my boxer's waistband.

I begin to pull down. When I do, I feel the fabric rubbing against my hard cock as it sticks out, feeling harder than it ever has. Pulling down more and more, my face reddens as I feel more skin exposed. Now I know she's going to mention how I shave my pubes as it is visible, even if my manhood isn't out.

Like pulling off a band-aid, I pull hard on the waistband to make my shorts and boxers fall. My hard cock springs out, popping to attention after swinging for a moment. It points up and out, revealing how hard and erect it is, even if it too is against my will. My cock is now exposed as I am completely naked.

My shorts and boxers stay at my ankles where in my humiliation, I step out of them, then kick them away, which I have a feeling she wants. Now there are no clothes anywhere for me to hurriedly put on. This would be the moment for my wife to come marching in as it would look at first glance that I'm the cheater.

"You are certainly a big boy, aren't you?" She comments, looking directly at my manhood. Feeling like a virgin teen for some reason, I look away and don't say anything, my face still bright red. When I was in college, I remember a strange party I went to in which a group of frat boys decided to measure each other to see how they compared. It was by far the dumbest thing I've ever heard of. They were so concerned about the size of their cock as compared to other men that they missed the chance to, you know, have sex that night as there were so many girls. It was then I realized that I am completely happy with my size. I'm smaller than some, larger than others, but it doesn't matter.

With that said, her saying this sends a fresh wave of arousal all over me. I'm about 8 inches to be honest, but at the moment it feels more like 2 feet as sexy as she makes me feel, which is crazy. It's so crazy that I actually start to like the fact that she can see my cock as she seems to like looking at it.

"Ok big boy, make it swing up and down, left and right. Swing that big dick," she orders. My eyes move back to her at this as it's again just so crazy. She's bonkers. Utterly bonkers.

My face reddens again as I do as she wants. I swing my hips and feel my hard manhood swing heavily to the left, then right over and over. Then I do something of a thrust, to which I feel it go up and then down. The worst part is how my balls swing as well. They too feel heavy and full, like a Neanderthal's.

"Good boy," she croons with a laugh, liking how I do as she wants. Then without saying a word, she motions with the gun for me to turn around. With another deep breath and my hands raised, I turn to show my bare ass. As I face the other way, I look at the front door. A part of me is terrified that she's going to shoot me like this. Just blow me away. But she doesn't.

"Nice ass. Firm, good for thrusting. Bet that wife of yours has gotten a lot of use out of that thrusting ass of yours," she comments. I'm not sure to respond to this or not. Just like I'm not sure if all these compliments are in jest, are serious or what they are. But I do nearly say that no, my wife has only complained about how sore her pussy is after we make love.

"Turn around big boy, and put your back against the pole. Don't forget to keep your hands up at all times. No hiding Mr. Big Dick," she orders as I face away. I close my eyes for a moment as that strange humiliating arousing feeling moves over me again. Being told you can't cover your dick is something no guy ever thinks he would hear.

My wife and I have tried a great many things, sexually over the years. One such thing was her dominating me. It really didn't go too well as she's just not that sort of person. I admit I liked trying it, but I could see it wasn't for her so we never did it again. This bitch in all her craziness knows how to dominate. It's engrained in her as if she knows exactly what to do or say at any time.

I lift my hands up higher to make her happy then turn around so she can see all of my naked front. When I do, she smiles that evil, sexy smile as the gun is still pointed at me. We stand like this for a moment as she makes a production of looking at my dick as it literally throbs in excitement.

Breaking the spell, I look to the side and see the pole. It's not really a pole but a pillar that holds up the ceiling. It starts the half wall-thing that divides the living room from the hallway. Along the half-wall, there are pictures and knicknacks, but on either ends, there are the pillars to keep it up.

I walk to the pillar and then put my back against it as she wants. As I do this, she struts towards me, walking slow as if she has all the time in the world. I then lift my hands so they are up and over my head.

"How long you been married?" She asks as her free hand moves behind her. I can tell she's trying to grab something from her belt, but what it is, I'm not sure. She does have to dig for it as if it is stuck. Given how tight her clothes are, I can believe this.

"15 years," I answer, hands still raised as my cock points at her. She looks at me with a nod that seems to say, "that's pretty good" at the length of my marriage.

"Wow. That's something in today's world. Bet the two of you are faithful too," she says but this seems more for herself than for me. Otherwise, I would say 'damn right.' I've never cheated on her at all, and I know she wouldn't cheat on me.

"Put these on, behind the pole," she suddenly tells me, pulling out a shiny pair of handcuffs and tossing them at me. I'm able to catch them and the first thing I notice is how heavy they are. I've handled playtime sexy handcuffs, but they were not this heavy. These seem...real.

That's when I look down at them to see there's words stamped on them that they are the property of the city's police force. Whomever this bitch is, she stole handcuffs from the police. And I have a feeling these were probably on her at one time, to which she got them off after she escaped.

"Alright. We are both calm and collected. No reason to do anything bad," I finally am able to say to try and regain control. I hold the cuffs but don't move to put them on. If I do cuff myself, then I really will be helpless and in danger, even more so than what I am. Need to talk to her, to get her open.

"Maybe we could talk about what you are after. I could help if you are in trouble," I tell her in a kind tone. I try to make my eyes look open and pleading, so she knows she can trust me.

She laughs. It's a loud, full laugh too, which makes my balls feel like they go inside me. She's laughing at me. Really laughing too, as if I'm the one being unreasonable and stupid.

"Put the fucking cuffs on Mr. Big Dick, or I'll shoot you in the head and use the few minutes with your hard cock instead of letting you at least enjoy it," she threatens in a very serious tone, the laugh gone. Her eyes are hard as steel and her jaw line set, which scares the shit out of me.

It only takes a couple of seconds before both of my hands are over my head and cuffed behind the pillar. The cuffs close tight and I even move my hands to the side to show her that I'm not trying to trick her. I'm truly helpless to her now like this. That I've just cuffed myself to this pillar for her.

"Good boy. Now...I know you must be wondering what is going to happen," she says, stepping to the side to place the gun on the couch far from me. It's here she uncocks the gun, which scares me even more as it means she really was prepared to shoot.

"It's simple, and I wasn't lying," she says, pulling something out of her pocket. It's a camera. It's shaped like a cell phone but is clearly a camera. After pulling it out, she walks to an end table that's pressed against the far wall. There she sets it up, where it points directly at me.

"I'm going to have sex with you," she tells me as she walks back towards me. Here I see the camera's red light is on, meaning it must be recording.

"I'm going to suck that cock of yours, and then you are going to fuck me," she says as she steps but inches from me. I stare at her at this, very confused. Why? She could have sex with anyone she wants, why me? Why like this?

"I'm going to make sure your pretty little wife sees it too," she says, but says it in a whisper right next to my right ear. The way she does this sends goosebumps over my skin as her breath is so warm. More than that, I can smell whatever perfume she is wearing, which smells so great.

"She'll wonder if this was real, as why would some woman break in and force her husband to fuck her? In time, she'll start to wonder if this was a set up. Wonder if you have been cheating all this time, especially since you work at home and could set whatever you wanted to up. Hell, I'm even going to hide my panties somewhere in the house where only she can find, so months later, she's going to discover them and accuse you of cheating...again," she whispers in a seductive tone.

"You're....you're crazy!" I gasp after hearing this. That's what all this is, is to make my wife think I'm cheating on her. She's trying to destroy my marriage. The bitch truly is crazy. I bet she isn't going to take a single possession we have either. Her entire goal is to try and destroy my life.