The evening started off like any other.
Vanessa was in the shower, washing off the stress of another day. Most people showered in the morning before work; Vanessa liked to shower after. There was no better way to relax after a long day. She was an organized, consistent person. She liked regularity and routine. Every day, the same thing: she'd get home from work, have a snack to sate her appetite, peel off her work clothes, and take a long, relaxing shower. Then she'd prepare dinner as she waited for her husband to get home. They'd eat together, spend the rest of the evening relaxing (or catching up on more work), and then go to bed, sometimes having sex in between, sometimes not.
She and Tom had been married for almost a year, and had been together for almost five. In all that time, one problem had plagued an otherwise wonderful relationship - sex, to her, just wasn't exciting. She didn't tell Tom this, but he could sense that she didn't enjoy it the way he did. She was capable of feeling pleasure, but she didn't feel the desire she thought she was supposed to feel. The incredible burning need everyone seemed to talk about. She loved Tom, but sex with him was mechanical and boring.
Tom often asked her what she fantasized about, and she would always shrug and beat around the bush. She didn't know, she said. The truth was, she did know, but...well, some things were better kept under wraps. She didn't know what to think of her own fantasies, and the last thing she wanted was for anyone else to know about them.
Overall, she and Tom were happy, and these weren't thoughts that really concerned her. She certainly wasn't thinking about them that evening, standing under the warm caress of the running water. She was thinking about the drama in the office that day, of what she was going to make for dinner, of the report she was going to work on tomorrow. She didn't expect anything out of the ordinary to happen that night.
Shower over, she stepped out into the steamy room, wrapping herself in a towel and wringing out her long, curly hair. Once satisfied she was dry enough, she hung the towel up and stepped out, naked, into the bedroom. She had only taken a few steps toward the dresser, barely out the bathroom door, when it happened.
Quick as a flash, she felt arms snake around her. One looped around her slim waist, and the other snuck up to clamp a hand over her mouth. She let out a muffled scream, the shock sending her into a brief panic. She thrashed wildly, kicking her feet, her breasts bouncing as she shook her head back and forth.
Whoever they were, they were wearing gloves. If they hadn't been, her panic probably would have only lasted a split second, as she would have instantly recognized the hands. With the gloves, she got in a few good kicks and screams as the man carried her towards the bed before she realized what was going on.
She recognized those leather gloves, and even more so, the feel of the arms and the body behind her; she calmed down as she realized it was none other than Tom. She almost laughed from relief, his hand still over her mouth. He wasn't supposed to be home this early.
"Mmmmph," she moaned at him, but he didn't say anything. She continued to struggle as he pinned her down to the bed, his weight pressing into her as he bent her over the side. He grabbed her right arm, bending it behind her back and pinning her wrist. She finally managed to shake her head free of his hand.
"Tom, what's going on?" she asked, laughing, but he didn't respond, clamping his hand over her mouth again.
He let her struggle for a minute more, merely pinning her down silently as her naked form writhed and let out muffled laughs and protests beneath him. Finally, when she was really beginning to wonder what he was up to, he pushed her on to her back, pressing her fully against the bed.
She looked up at him, but she couldn't see his face. He was wearing a ski mask. She couldn't help but laugh.
"Come on, Tom. A ski mask? Don't you think that's a little - "
She was cut off by a move she hadn't anticipated. He had on his black winter jacket - seeing as it was winter, after all - and she had barely realized he'd pulled something from the breast pocket. It was a small rag. As she was speaking, he bunched it up in his fist and shoved it into her mouth without warning. Her eyes widened.
"Mmmrgh?" He kept one of those gloved hands over her mouth, keeping the rag in place. She narrowed her brow. She knew what he was doing - the whole "burglar breaking in" roleplay, yes yes, very nice - but he hadn't asked her about any of this first. Shoving something in her mouth seemed like a bit much.
She continued to let out muffled strings of words as he pulled more questionable items from his pockets and began to wordlessly render her helpless. He pulled a small coil of rope from the inside of his jacket, and set about binding her wrists to the bedposts. This was no easy feat, considering her struggles, but he sat in between her legs, making kicking him difficult, and grabbed both wrists. He began to tie the squirming limbs together, looping the rope around the bedposts as he did so. She managed to spit the rag out.
"Tom, what on earth are you doing?" she demanded. "Don't you think we should talk about this first?"
He didn't respond, continuing to bind her wrists together tightly. She squirmed and banged her heels against him, to no avail. When he was finished, she was almost alarmed at just how tightly she was bound. She couldn't budge her wrists apart from one another, or from the bedposts. She was good and trapped.
"Okay, I get it," she said, still laughing. "You're the big bad criminal, breaking into my house and taking advantage of me. Very sexy. But can't we talk about this a little bit - "
Her eyes widened as he shoved the cloth back into her mouth, keeping his hand clamped over her lips to keep it inside. She garbled in protest, hands twitching against the headboard, as he fished around in his jacket for more. He pulled out another rag, this one considerably bigger, and removed his hand. She shook her head back and forth, but before she could spit the rag out, he'd brought the second rag between her lips and wound it tightly around her head. He managed to wrap it twice before knotting it, unhindered by all her moving about.
Once the gag was secured in place, he sat back for a moment and was still, looking at her. She looked considerably more pissed off now, her brow furrowed. She squirmed, kicking her feet uselessly, breasts heaving, pussy exposed. Her hair was still damp from her shower, draping over her shoulders.
"Mmmmph mmmmrgh!" Her jaw twitched frantically as she continued to let out muffled protests. She found it unnerving that Tom hadn't spoken at all. Normally he was very talkative, the sort of guy who was always cracking jokes. He was really getting into character, she supposed.
After his moment of merely watching her, his eyes peeking out through the only holes in the ridiculous ski mask, she tensed as he reached into his jacket again and pulled out more rope. She groaned. What now? She was already more than helpless. Was more rope really necessary?
Apparently it was. She squealed as he took hold of her right ankle and began to lift it. He positioned her so that her leg was bent, her ankle near the bedpost above her head. As someone who had spent the bulk of her childhood doing dance and gymnastics, the position didn't hurt at all, but it made her blush furiously. She hollered and squirmed as he began wrapping rope around her ankle. She kicked at him with her left foot, but she may as well have been tapping him with a feather for all the reaction she got.
Once the rope was secured around her ankle, he tied the other end to the bedpost. Unlike with her wrists, he gave the rope some slack so that her ankle wasn't forced directly up against it. This made things a bit more comfortable, her foot essentially hovering in the air. This didn't bring her relief, however, as he repeated the treatment on her left ankle. Once that one was secured, he sat back to admire his handiwork.
She was now stuck with her hands tied above her head and her legs spread wide open, ankles in the air like a porn star. Although he had, of course, seen her in similar positions before, and seen her pussy up close and personal more times than she could count, she still felt horribly embarrassed. With seemingly little effort, he had reduced her to a completely helpless state. She was gagged and bound, and her pussy was spread wide open for all to see. He had complete and easy access to her most intimate place, and there was nothing she could do about it.
After a moment of looking at her silently, he removed his gloves and reached out, stroking her thigh. She growled at him, and finally he made some noise - he chuckled.
"Bet you weren't expecting this, huh, Vanessa?" He chuckled again. "I've been planning this for a long time, babe. See, I know your secret."
Her eyes widened as she instantly had an idea of what he was talking about. He confirmed her thoughts.
"You know, I've asked you so many times, what do you fantasize about? What makes you horny? I wasn't just asking to make conversation, babe. I really care about that. I want to act our your fantasies and make you feel good, but you never gave me any answers."
He finally removed the ski cap, rubbing at his forehead, his dark locks falling free.
"Well, about a month ago, I found out just what you haven't been telling me." He grinned. "Remember that night you fell asleep with your laptop open in bed? Well...you forgot to close out of a couple things."
She moaned, feeling a bit mortified. Normally she was good about keeping her porn-watching habits hidden, but one night she had been having a bit of fun before bed and had fallen asleep. She had been worried the next morning when she woke and her laptop was on the desk, Tom asleep next to her, but when she opened it, the porn was nowhere to be found. She figured she must have had the sense to close the tabs before falling asleep.
Apparently, she hadn't.
He chuckled. "You had a lot of things open, babe, and most of it was pretty kinky. Bondage, spanking, forced orgasms? I never would have guessed you were interested in that sort of thing."
He leaned in, whispering in her ear.
"So I'm gonna have some fun with you, naughty girl. I'm gonna give your body the treatment it deserves."
Her heart thudded furiously at that promise, but before she even knew how to respond, he saved her the trouble. He removed a final item from his pocket - a black rag - and wrapped it around her eyes. As before, her struggles proved useless, and soon enough the blindfold was secured. She was trembling lightly in anticipation. Her helplessness now complete, she couldn't even begin to guess what he was going to do to her. She felt completely vulnerable, and almost as humiliated as she was excited.
On the one hand, she was furious with him for doing this without asking her first. On the other hand, she knew what he was doing, and she appreciated him for it. He was trying to act out her fantasy. He didn't give her a say and was "forcing" her to do this because he knew it would get her juices flowing. And flowing they were. She felt a bit mortified at the thought. It wouldn't be long before her arousal became very apparent, and in the position she was in, he'd get a nice, close-up view of just what his actions were doing to her.
For a moment he merely continued to stroke her thigh, apparently giving her a chance to get her bearings. When he stopped, she was no longer trembling, but she was still tense, waiting for him to make his first move.
He began to rub his hands over her body. One thing she had been open about was how much she loved the feel of his strong, sturdy hands caressing her everywhere. He ran them over her thighs, her torso, her breasts and shoulders. He only rarely touched her pussy, and when he did, he just quickly, lightly brushed his palm over her like a ghost. He appeared to be building things up slowly, which made her feel more at ease. She began to relax more, breathing steadily.
He cupped her breasts in his hands, squeezing them lightly and rubbing his palms against her nipples. She shuddered, and they hardened at the touch. He knew her nipples were very sensitive, and one of the most surefire ways to get her warmed up. Once the pink buds were nice and firm, he ran his fingertips lightly over them. He rubbed them both simultaneously, and she shuddered again, twitching lightly against the ropes. The contact seemed to send shockwaves through the rest of her body, from her pussy to the soles of her feet. When she was shuddering consistently, he changed his tactics.
He took her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and began pinching them. He alternated between pinching and rubbing, occasionally tugging on them, until she was moaning lightly against her gag. The delicate skin above her breasts was flushed red, and she was sure her cheeks - the only exposed part of her face - were bright red as well. Normally he talked to her when he was playing with her body (sometimes dirty, sometimes romantic) but he stayed completely silent. Something about this only increased her arousal, making her body even more sensitive. The thought that he was doing this to her and she couldn't stop him - that he was playing with her like a toy, like a passive observer - made her body heat up faster.
When he'd apparently gotten his fill of her breasts, his hands drifted further. She was sure he could hear her heart hammering against her chest as his fingers drifted toward her pussy. As many times as his fingers (and mouth, and cock) had been down there, it had never been when she was so vulnerable like this. He didn't touch her directly at first. He parted her labia, apparently examining her clinically. She knew she was wet at this point, but she wasn't sure quite how much. He didn't make any noise to indicate anything about what he saw. Instead, he let his fingers do the talking.
He started by trailing them up and down the length of her vulva slowly, teasing her, never directly touching her pussy or her clit. The fingers trailed her labia, danced around her most sensitive areas, but never actually touched them. His fingers got wet, and he spread the moisture, getting her nice and ready.
He then pulled away for a moment, and she listened as he rustled around. He left the bed momentarily and she heard drawers opening. When he came back, she could hear him opening a bottle of something and squeezing it. Lube was all she could think of, and this was confirmed when his fingers joined her again. He began to rub the smooth, warm liquid all over her sex, this time briefly brushing over her clit as he coated everything. She jumped slightly every time he brushed that delicate bud, her body already feeling more sensitive than she was used to.
Her heart beat furiously as he fully coated her with the lube and then pulled his fingers away. What exactly was he planning? Was he going to penetrate her already?
For a moment there was more rustling around, and then his hands were on her breasts again. He pinched and touched her nipples until they were back to their rock hard state, and then, without warning, her left nipple was clamped by the claws of something warm and plastic.
She squealed, body jerking against the ropes. It didn't really hurt, but it was the last thing she had expected. She let out a string of garbed protests, for the first time wondering if he was going to push her too far with this. She'd watched enough porn to know what he was attaching to her - nipple clamps. A light version, by the feel of them, but clamps nonetheless. Not heeding her protests, he clamped the second one on to her right nipple, and then pulled away as she twitched and moaned.
They didn't hurt too much, but the light pressure would serve as a constant reminder that they were there. The feeling served what she imagined was its purpose - the stimulation was just enough to make her feel horny. Clearly, his intention with leaving those on was to ensure she remained in a state of constant arousal. That, and to remind her who was in charge.
Still he remained silent, not making a single noise as she squealed and flailed. Again, the feeling that he was doing these things with a sort of clinical detachment only served to turn her on more. She imagined how she must have looked - gagged, blindfolded, legs high in the air, lube-coated pussy displayed to the world, clamps on her heaving breasts. The sheer thought of what she must look like made her feel terribly embarrassed and even more terribly horny.
She wondered what was next for her as she heard him rustling around again. She practically snorted breath through her nose, her heart beating hard as she waited for him to return to her. Now that her breasts were taken care of, she figured he was probably getting ready to move on to the main event. Just what he had planned, though, was anyone's guess. She had no idea when or where he had acquired nipple clamps. Who knew what else he had gotten in the month he'd spent getting ready for this moment?
She figured it out soon enough as he resumed his seat on the bed. She had her suspicions, and they were confirmed as the silence was filled with a sudden harsh buzzing that was all too familiar. She jumped at the sudden noise. This was a tool she was familiar with. They'd bought the little vibrator years ago in an attempt to solve some of their problems. Although it hadn't been a magical cure, she was very well acquainted with the buzzing machine.
As soon as it started, however, it stopped. She was confused, but the next moment his hands were on her again. He rubbed her thighs before bringing two fingers between her legs. He slowly rubbed them up and down her slick pussy, from her opening to her swollen clit. He rubbed circles around her clit teasingly before touching it directly. She moaned softly, biting down on the rag in her mouth. Her legs began to twitch in the air as he stimulated her more directly.
"Mmmmrgh," she moaned, beginning to grind her hips, trying to push them more toward his hand. He was only touching her lightly, teasing her, but still enough to make her tremble at the contact. He continued touching her this way for a few minutes, and when he finally stopped, she felt light-headed with lust, groaning openly now, feeling as though just a little bit more touching, a bit more direct stimulation, would send her over the edge within seconds. Her cunt was dripping with arousal.
That's when the buzzing came back.
She jumped again, though she'd been anticipating it. She'd figured out his apparent plan; getting her all worked up until she was begging for it, and then using the vibe to go in for the kill. That was precisely what he did. The buzzing didn't start and then stop this time. It kept on buzzing, and the buzzing got closer.
He first pressed the tip of the vibe just above her cunt, getting her body used to the intense sensation before bringing it to her most sensitive spot. He moved it up her sex slowly, taking his time. She was whimpering with anticipation when he finally circled the vibe around her clit before giving her the contact she craved.
Her body jolted, her whimpers turning into muffled yelps as she trembled violently. He moved it around in a circular motion, giving her just enough contact to tease and pleasure but not enough to hurt. She cried out, wiggling her hips and grinding against the incessant little machine.
Her guess had been right; she exploded into an almost painful orgasm in no time at all. All of it was too much. The bondage, the clamps, the "forcing," the clinical silence. Her pussy was as ready as it was ever going to get, and it didn't take much teasing of that little bud before her muscles finally contracted, her body trembling as the shockwaves claimed her. She had no idea how loud she was being; all she knew was that she was lost in a void of pleasure more intense than anything she had experienced in a long time.