Taken in the Night

Prologue

This is about consensual non-consent play. Note the "consensual". It's something that consenting adults may do. If that idea bothers you, stop reading.

Based on a true story, with the details omitted to protect privacy. Make sure you read through to the epilogue, lest ye get the wrong impression.

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It was well after midnight as I drove toward my destination, a house on a remote property in the Appalachians. After miles and miles of winding through the mountains on a two-lane highway, I spotted the mailbox where the road to the house met the highway, and I turned down that road for my final leg. Illuminated only by moonlight and my car's headlights, that turn would have been easy to miss, but I had done my homework.

Once on the gravel road, I slowed to barely more than a walking pace, as it was quite dark and I was unfamiliar with the twists and turns. The house would be at the end of that gravel road, several hundred yards farther along. There were no neighbors along that road, nor, indeed, was any neighboring house on the adjacent properties closer than a half mile.

Very dark, with only the moon for light. Isolated. Perfect.

It was a clear, still night, and even at a walking pace the crunch of the gravel under the tires seemed ridiculously loud. As the distance to the house diminished, so did my speed, until my car barely crawled forward.

Finally, in the distance, I dimly made out the outlines of the house and the car parked in front of it. The house itself seemed completely dark from the outside.

Still a hundred yards or more from the house, I cut my lights, turned off the ignition, and got out. Very carefully and quietly, I pushed the driver's side door closed and walked toward the house, stepping in the grass beside the road rather than crunching along in the gravel.

There was enough moonlight to easily find my way along, listening attentively as the shapes of the house and parked car grew larger and more distinct. Soon enough, I was right outside the house, next to the car parked there.

Yep, that's her car, down to the license number.

She's inside. And she's all by herself.

Over the next few minutes, I quietly walked completely around the house, paying close attention to what I saw and heard, while being careful to avoid noisy footsteps on sticks or gravel. Aside from dim illumination from the expected electronic gadgets, there were no lights on anywhere. I already knew the layout of the place, thanks to realtor photos, so I knew her bedroom would be in the back left corner of the house.

Her bedroom was as dark as the rest of the house, and the windows were open to let the cooler night air through the window screens, a fact that made me particularly careful to avoid noise near them. I paused near each of those bedroom windows to listen for any sounds from within, and heard none.

That's where she'd be, sound asleep. No doubt about it.

My reconnaissance finished, I was ready to begin.

Returning to my car, I retrieved my bag and arranged various necessary things in my pockets or along my belt, closed the doors quietly, and made my way back to the house. The large porch was floored with wooden boards, and I slowly shuffled across to minimize noise until I reached the front door.

A few moments of listening yielded nothing alarming, so I slowly twisted the knob.

Unlocked.

One doesn't realize how loud a door can be until it's the only sound around. The squeaks and clicks of the door opening sounded like cannon fire. It took several minutes to open it carefully enough to minimize the usual door noises, and several more minutes to close it just as quietly.

Inside, at last.

Fortunately, with my eyes well adapted to the dark, even the filtered moonlight was bright enough for me to see where I was going inside the house, so I wouldn't need my flashlight.

There's the bedroom.

The bedroom door was open.

More creaks from the wooden floor as I slowly and quietly approached the bedroom. At the crawling pace of my silent approach, there was plenty of time to gradually soak in the details. Once close enough to get a viewing angle into the room, I could see the dim outline of the bed and the distinctly un-flat shape of the bedding.

And there she is, nothing but a sheet between us.

At the bedroom threshold, I quietly set my bag on the floor, and paused there for several more minutes to just observe.

An overhead fan drew the cool night air into the bedroom. Queen sized bed. Old school ironwork bed frame with ornate iron bars for the headboard and footboard.

That's going to come in handy.

She lay on her side, facing away from the door, with all but her head and shoulders covered by a blanket. She wasn't sleeping naked, I could tell that much. I'd find out exactly what she wore to bed in a few minutes.

Time to go to work.

Making sure my "tools" were handy, I quickly climbed on the bed and sat astride her, with my weight pinning her to the bed and a knee on each side to prevent her from rolling away.

That's when she woke up. From the first moments after that shocking awakening, she must have dimly realized just how wrong her situation was. Her instinctive reaction-to resist something that she had yet to fully understand-was proving futile. She was too small, too weak, and already in an extremely compromised position; predictably, her struggling did nothing to unseat me from my position atop her.

I was too focused on physical control to pay much attention to exactly what she was saying as she struggled. Suffice it to say that it wasn't loud enough to have been heard very far beyond the bedroom windows, as I think she understood she could never be loud enough for the nearest neighbors to hear.

No doubt she was fully awake now, pumped full of adrenaline, and understanding her predicament more clearly with every passing second.

Her first non-instinctive action was to twist her body face down beneath me and pull her arms underneath herself. She tried, very hard, to keep me from gaining control of her arms, but she failed.

I pulled her right arm from beneath her, held her wrist with one hand, and retrieved handcuffs from my belt with the other. One cuff clicked around her wrist while I hooked the other cuff to my belt. With her right wrist behind her, attached to me by my belt, I now had both hands free again. I used them to gain control of her left arm, which I also pulled behind her back, alongside her already-cuffed right wrist.

At that point, I needed only one hand to maintain control of her arm, so I was able to unhook the other cuff from my belt and snap it around her left wrist.

There.

At that point, she was on her stomach, still pinned underneath me, with both wrists handcuffed behind her back. Anyone observing the situation would have thought Well, she's fucked now. In this case, not literally fucked, not yet anyway. That would come later. Very soon, in fact.

In the meantime, I had more work to do.

She was still struggling, but I could tell she understood that it was now just a matter of time. Yeah, she's fucked now.

And I had all night-which she knew as well as I.

What was absent through all of this were questions such as "Who are you?" or "Why are you doing this?" Curiously absent, considering the situation, or at least the apparent situation.

Now for the leg restraints. I knew the ironwork on that bed frame would come in handy, and it did. She was going nowhere with me on top of her-sitting on her thighs at this point-and it was easy enough to attach her left ankle to the center of the footboard's iron bars.

There were now scant minutes before I would be inside her, and we both knew it.

I rolled her onto her back, her body pivoting around her anchored left ankle, and as I sat on her thighs I finally had time to pause and admire the situation.

She was completely controlled and bound, attached by one ankle to the bed, with both wrists handcuffed underneath her. She wore a lacy nightie and matching panties, which I didn't yet need to remove. In my eagerness to claim her for the first time, stripping her was an unnecessary luxury.

No, my first penetration will be with those panties just pushed to the side.

Even with her on her back, I couldn't make out the details of her face in the darkened bedroom. For the situation she was in, she was almost surprisingly calm, as if she knew exactly what was going to happen and also knew that there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

I could have gloated or taunted. I could have told her that I was about to claim her pussy as mine.

But I didn't need to. She knew.

I could gloss over the details of the next few minutes, but I won't. Her right ankle and leg were free, and with her left leg immobile it was easy enough to get my hips between her legs and spread her wide.

Once I was between her spread thighs, she had only seconds of chastity remaining, and we both knew it.

I can only imagine her thoughts as she heard me unbuckle my belt and felt me pushing my pants down past my hips.

And if she didn't know how hard I was, she was about to find out.

I leaned my weight into her as one hand sought the edge of her panties and pulled them aside. My fingers found her cunt and slipped inside to find her not simply wet, but soaking wet.

My rock hard cock now followed where my fingers had explored, and its head touched her labia and began to find a way inside.

The angle was actually a bit awkward, with her left leg at a fixed angle and her upper body twisting a bit to keep her weight off of her handcuffed wrists, so it took a bit of nudging to find that sweet, wet path of least resistance.

But find it I did.

At that moment, when I fully penetrated her, she crossed the line from chaste to violated, and that could never be undone.

So I took her, and fucked her, and used her, and pounded that wet little cunt until I was satisfied. Occasionally, she would cry out as one thrust or another pushed the cold steel handcuffs painfully against her wrists, but more often she groaned-yes, groaned-as my cock stroked in and out of her.

I was not quick. I wasn't finished in five minutes. My repeated thrusts eventually opened her up and spread her cunt juices thoroughly, until I was stroking smoothly and easily. And as I continued to use her for my own pleasure, she kept up her groans.

In time, I was done.

Well, not done done.

That was only the first time, only the first time, and the night was young... but she needed to be more suitably bound for round two, and three, and four...

Leaving her ankle attached to the bed frame, I uncuffed her wrists and re-secured them, individually, to the ironwork frame at the head of the bed. She no longer had to lie atop her cuffed wrists, but she was still secured at three points, almost a full spread eagle, with only her right leg unfettered. During this process I removed her nightie and panties, leaving her utterly naked and exposed.

And so she lay, all night, helpless, awaiting each time my lust would reawaken and I would take her again.

As I did.

Repeatedly.

After the first time, she barely tried to resist any more, and submitted-dejectedly? exhaustedly? happily? eagerly?-to my appetite.

Each time, as I slid inside her wet-always, always wet-pussy, and began to fuck her, she would groan with my pounding thrusts. After a time, I started putting my hand over her mouth to muffle her groans, but this only seemed to intensify her reaction.

Imagine that. Bound hand and foot, stripped naked, a man she'd never met before covering her mouth and thrusting hard inside her... yet she moans and groans and cums-cums!-as this stranger's cock ravishes her most intimate place.

And every single time time I used her throughout the night-after leaving her bound, naked and spread while I recharged and my erection returned-every single time, I found her cunt dripping wet. Every single time, she came loudly and repeatedly as I fucked her again.

And again.

And again.

Between each fucking, I dozed on the bed next to her, until I decided it was time to use her again.

I semi-freed her for the last couple hours of the night, leaving her ankle bound but letting her sleep with her wrists unshackled.

Was I surprised to awaken in the morning to find my cock hard again?

No.

Was I surprised to find the reason I was hard was that my prisoner had taken my sleeping cock into her mouth and sucked and licked me until I was hard again?

Only a little.

Stockholm syndrome? Or was that the plan all along?

Finding myself awake, and hard, with her mouth around my dick, the next step was obvious.

"Spread your legs," I ordered.

She did so, immediately and without hesitation. Not so much a captive taken by force now, but willingly submissive.

Good girl.

And as every time before, I found her dripping wet as I penetrated her. Again, I put my hand over her mouth, and again that seemed to make her even wilder and more orgasmic. Again, I fucked her good and hard, as she moaned and climaxed repeatedly.

So strong-willed and independent at the beginning, actively struggling and resisting me as I forcibly violated her, but by the end of the night, thoroughly obedient and submissive.

This surprised neither of us.

Because this adventure had been planned for weeks-with her full and active participation. She craved this, she ached for it, at some very deep and primal level.

With the trust built up over weeks of discussions, and with specific safeguards built in to the scenario, she was ready to make her fantasy real, with me.

And that is the story of how it happened.

- - - - - - - - -

Epilogue

This adventure was completely, mutually consensual role play, and, as the story concludes, it was the product of weeks of discussion, plannng, and trust building. We had fail-safes in place to make sure everything went smoothly, and even after it began she always had the option to end it instantly with a safe word (or the nonverbal equivalent).

When it was over she confessed to me that it was one of the most intense, thrilling, and erotic experiences she'd ever had-and that was mutual, too.

And of course, she never used her safe word. She was never even tempted to use her safe word. Everything that happened was something she desired, and was well within the explicit limits she required.

This is how it's done.