I decided to experiment with a very different kind of first person narration.
TRIGGER WARNING: The following story is quite graphic and profane, but illusion can be a powerful drug. Our narrator is going to have an interesting experience, but sometimes the truth is different from what we see. There are many dark themes explored herein, including both asphyxiation and forced orgasm. Take my assurance, however, that it’s all fantasy.
Things Are Not As They Seem (M/F)
Friday, December 20, 2024
► Show Spoiler
After a day of court cases and legal counsel, nothing beats kicking off my heels, using GrubHub to get a meal, and sitting with some video games. Nothing like a little Red Dead Redemption 2 to get those do-gooder feelings out of my system. I’m not exactly religious, either; I’m one of those agnostics who believes God is real but doesn’t believe in denominationalism. It shows in how I rampage through this small town, killing everything in sight.
There's nothing like barbeque to me, as un-ladylike as it sounds. Spicy ribs, cornbread, slaw, and fries are the perfect meal for me. My dad’s from Texas, and I was raised in Arizona, so I’ve been raised right in the cuisine department. Mmm, mmm! Nothing like sticky, spicy ribs when I am a lump of dead flesh after a day on my feet at the courthouse. Now that supper's done, it's time for a nice hot bath.
I get the water to the right temperature and pull the drain. Now, I turn around and see that pretty young attorney staring back at me. She has straight blonde locks, long and shiny like icicles, and eyes as blue as the winter sky. On a cold winter’s evening, nothing beats a hot bath. My skin is dreadfully pale, and I blush at the sight of the plump, soft grapefruits that protrude from my chest with only a slight sag. I squish them a little and grin. Agnostic or not, if a loving God made me, then I’m glad He gave me my body because I can't complain about anything except sunburns.
I’d say I’m average height, neither short nor tall. How many girls are attorneys in criminal court, deciding if a bad guy really is the bad guy and what charges and sentence to pursue? It can be an emotionally draining job much of the time, but when I’m certain justice has been properly dished out it feels so satisfying. I can put on some relaxing jazz and slip into the tub in peace. I’m now in a happy, peaceful place. The smooth instrumental sounds are as soft as my skin. The water is at a perfect temperature, and I use my iPad to do some relaxing coloring before I clean up. After I am dry, I paint my fingernails with a lovely Christmas green ahead of parties and celebrations.
The pink fleece pajamas and the pink crew socks I put on afterwards are so perfectly cozy. They are a cute, soft, baby pink, and they keep me quite cozy. Since I live alone, for comfort I don't put on a bra. Since it's the Friday before Christmas, I decide to cozy up under a quilt that a friend made just for me. I love the diamonds, squares, and triangles and how they make such an unforgettable series of windows and color. It truly is a masterpiece.
Bedtime feels so welcome. Crawling under the purple bedding on my full-sized bed is initially chilling, but then it warms from my body heat. The insulating power of the bedding creates a cozy environment, like being embraced, and nothing beats it. I relax with a book for 15 minutes before I turn out the light. I quickly drift off to a soft, peaceful sleep.
I don't know what time it is. I never heard a sound or felt any disturbance. Suddenly, I am jolted wide awake because a masked man has clamped a hand over my mouth. “Eegah!†I shriek into his hand, but he starts removing my shirt. I claw at his arms, but his arms are protected by shirt sleeves, and the way he holds prevents me from kicking him in the balls. I need to get out somehow. I am instantly wide awake, in fight-or-flight mode. Who is this guy? Why is he here in my home? Why did my security system fail to engage? That should have scared him off and alerted all of my neighbors. That should immediately tell you things aren’t as they seem.
“Get the fuck off me, you maniac!†I say when he exposes my breasts, “No! Give that back!â€
“I’m not listening to you!†he rolls me onto my stomach, and he uses rope to tie my arms.
“Let me go!†I grunt through gritted teeth, but he ties my wrists together with dark efficiency.
“Shut up, bitch!†he gives me a rough spank to exhibit his power over me, “I’m in charge now!â€
“You wouldn't fucking dare!†I yell when he removes my socks, “Son of a bitch, put them back!â€
“Shut the fuck up, you dumb broad!†he stuffs the socks into my mouth.
“Mmmmmmm!†my socks taste horrible. What kind of psychopath is this guy?!
Duct tape wraps my face several times. This is nothing like the movies. This is tight, crushing my face as tightly as possible. I can only squeal when he pulls off my pants and panties. Now it is apparent that he has plans to use me as his pleasure toy. My adrenaline kicks in, and I let out a loud cry into my disgusting socks. Girls in my situation never survive to tell the tale.
I feel more of the rope binding my ankles together. Did I successfully prosecute his relative? He is going absolutely wild with this. He rolls me onto my stomach and pulls my arms together so he can tie my elbows. Who ties elbows? This guy is a professional and a frightening one, too. I am never going to see my native Arizona ever again, am I? I’m naked, bound, and gagged, and I see in the darkness that he has a ski mask, is strong and fit, and otherwise naked now.
He trussed up my chest into a tight bondage. The elbow rope pushed out my tits, and this rope that is worked around my chest pushes them out even further. This rope goes below my tits, above them, between them, and through my armpits. It is tight, and he squeezes my tits in an effort either to arouse me or to piss me off. He is a professional, so I must cooperate. If I fight too much, I might hurt myself.
I sit up when he pauses to grab more rope, but he reins me in and ties my legs above my knees as if he doesn't care about me. I twist my arms to try to push him away, but he easily and roughly shoves me down onto my back on the bed while he finishes with that rope. My gag is becoming increasingly uncomfortable with its flavor. He repeats his rope tricks on the lower side of my knees. This isn't enough rope for him? I try to push him away, but he rolls me over.
“Gaahhhh! Nooooo!†I wail as he jams himself into my ass with force, but then his phone rings.
“Sorry,†he silences the call that just came at… 11:30 PM? The nerve of some people!
“Gmmm!†I am quite annoyed by the interruption, but he resumes humping me, “GMMMMM!â€
“Aren’t people rude?†he asks me quite sarcastically.
“Gmmmppphhhh!†I snarl and roll my eyes since I’m unable to stop myself from getting fucked.
He arrhythmically moves himself up and down, jamming deeper into my body with each push of his increasingly erect cock. I try to arch myself to throw him off me, but he is too heavy. I try to use my arms to gain leverage, but they lack the freedom to display any kind of strength. I’m one of those girls who goes on walks or uses the gym only to keep in shape, not to build muscle. I’m in a dire situation from which I no longer can free myself. I am stuck taking whatever he does to me in the hope that he will let me live. I am asking for very large odds to be overcome.
He pushes me like he’s determined to force me to cum myself before he does. That’s plain disgusting and revolting. I’m the one being tortured, and he’s trying to force an orgasm so that if I survive and go to the police he can turn around and say, “She orgasmed, so she liked it!†That’s not going to save your rear from the district attorney’s office, although it’s my rear that is in need of saving. Man, that would feel so good in a consensual scenario… Right?
He has found my G-spot for sure because I loudly groan and practically collapse from the sudden wave of forced pleasure. That’s so wrong. Why is he doing this to me? He pushes me so hard it is impossible for me not to shriek from the mixture of pain and emotions. Who breaks into some random girl’s house so he can use her butt as a cockstroker without orgasming yet brutally forces her to orgasm multiple times? That’s what this particular kidnapper/robber does to me, though.
Then the creep does something truly insane: he tapes my nose shut. It’s like he is trying to force a mountain of sensations out of me. He’s groping my breasts like he has a license to do anything he wants with me just because he broke into my home. That forces me to orgasm again, and then the fingers of one hand explore my crotch. He’s just using me in any manner he likes. What the absolute fuck is wrong with this guy?!! Is he trying to smother me and overwhelm my senses so I look like I died in a fetish scene that went badly wrong? He loosens the tape just a little so I’m able to breathe, but what an interesting feeling it is to still be 98% smothered. Of course I cum.
“Mmmmmmmm,†I wail when he pulls out of my body and wordlessly leaves me for a moment. What kind of freak washes his cock after anal when he’s planning to kill the poor girl anyway?
For the time that he’s gone, I rest in exhaustion at the brutal ass fucking I’ve endured at the hand of a crazed maniac. I start to squirm in my tight bondage when the hormones finally subside, but it is too late since my assailant returns for me with more rope. I try to push him away, but there’s no stopping him. A tight crotch rope pins my arms to my waist and irritates my pussy. I suck on my socks still, and the flavor slowly dwindles the longer I am gagged with them.
He sits me up on the edge of my bed. The tape on my face is slowly unpeeled. I start screaming in anticipation of the opportunity to do so. This guy thinks I will go down without a fight, and he could not be further from correct. He is ready for me though. As soon as my socks come out of my mouth, he jams a big black leather ring gag in my mouth and buckles the straps. This is bad. I try to kick him in the nuts, but he grabs my legs, rolls me over, and spanks me quite roughly. I am hauled back up despite my kicking and screaming, and he pushes his junk through the gag.
My assailant got a little floppy while he was doing the other things, and it is a floppy cock that is pushed through the gag before he roughly pulls me up and down. I feel the cock become harder and harder with time. Soon, he is triggering my gag reflex and giving me those awful spots that a girl temporarily gets at the back of her throat after deepthroat oral sex. Only this is a one-sided selfish oral fucking of the worst kind. Then he explodes.
“Mmm!†I erotically melt when it all happens, but his grip reminds me how to react, “EEEEEK!â€
His cock begins pumping the whitish fluid into my mouth. It is salty yet simultaneously sweet to some tongues; in this moment, it’s disgusting. He has built up quite a load by starting the way he did, with hammering my ass until I was shrieking from the pain. I have to swallow all the sperm he ejaculates into my mouth. What a disgusting way to dispose of the evidence of his cock going in my ass for so long. He waits until he is certain I have swallowed every drop before pulling his cock out of my mouth. I don’t exactly have a choice but to swallow it, do I?
He resumes manhandling me though. His hands grope my breasts, and he pulls upon the crotch rope with strong and passionate motions. He forces me to orgasm through these cruel actions he performs on my body. I am so tightly tied up that it seems impossible for me to escape, and that he smothered me once tells me that he will almost certainly do it again. A vibrator comes next.
As if this isn’t scary enough, even scarier is when he leaves me alone. Is he so confident that I cannot escape that he feels comfortable walking around and doing other tasks while he recharges ahead of the next round of sex? My struggles are amplified by the vibrator, which forces me to orgasm faster than I already was orgasming. Despite the desire to collapse from each orgasm, I roll myself off the bed and onto my feet, hop to the closed door, and paw at the knob with intense anxiety. I silently open the door and see my molester right there, and I fall to my knees courtesy of a vibrator induced orgasm. He takes advantage of my position to push his cock through the gag for a second round of oral sex.
“Nnnnnn,†I wail sadly, but he doesn't react with anything except a sly grin.
He forces me up and down the increasing hard cock. I kneel on the floor of my room; he gropes my breasts in an erotic manner; the vibrator and crotch rope force me to orgasm; he lets go of me knowing I will comply with his desire for me to arouse him. This time his ejaculation is small, but I still am forced to swallow it. It tastes better this time because I am used to his flavor now.
He removes the ring gag, but he stuffs my mouth with both the panties I was wearing while I was sleeping and the ones I wore at work. Gross! It's an awful taste, and he again wraps my head in duct tape to hold those in. This can’t be happening. It can't be! He can't be doing this! The gag is horrible and has so many psychological connotations with it even if the one pair was on me for only a few hours. It is such an awful flavor, and the darkness of my bedroom adds another level of creepiness to my terrifying experience. My face is really compressed from the tightness of the gag, and there is no way I can expel the panties from my mouth.
“No!†I beg him when he undoes my crotch rope and removes the vibrator, but I have no choice.
“Shit!†he drops the vibrator on his foot.
“Ha!†I laugh at him, “Mmmm mmm mmmmm!†I take satisfaction in it.
“This is far from the ideal night, isn’t it?†he hops it off and comes back.
“Eeeeeeeeee!†I return to my fearful state after that brief comedic relief.
Into my body he goes for vaginal sex, the one he hasn’t yet violated. He quickly works up to a hard cock but then edges himself so that he can push inside my body some more, hammering my G-spot. In yet another act of betrayal, my hormones force me to arch and squeal in orgasm once again. He has me on my back on the bed, my legs in the air. Backdoor sex ought to be fun, but this is more extreme than anything else I’ve ever experienced in all of my sexual escapades.
The bastard tapes my nose shut again and puts clothespins on my nipples. I cannot respond, but the sensation and his thrusting combine to force another orgasm, but my muffled squeals fail to generate any sympathy from him. Close your lips really tightly and pinch your nose shut for 10 seconds. That is what he has done to me, only I can't stop it. Once he forces an orgasm out of me by really pushing on my G-spot, he unpeels the tape just enough for me. I am bound and gagged and being used as a fucking toy by a psychopathic stranger who broke into my home. Nobody is going to save me from this dream. He has one final orgasm, and tonight the vaginal orgasm is the best one of the night because his timing is absolutely perfect.
He is done with me, apparently. He rolls me onto my stomach and wraps a rope around my neck many times, creating the situation for my execution. He puts the crotch rope and vibrator back on me, buzzing my pussy without any empathy. Twine binds my big toes. The rope goes to my ankles, to the crotch rope, back to my neck, back to my ankles, and the remainder cinches the distance between my ankles and my neck, knotted out of reach. Cause of death: strangulation.
I am breathless. There is no hope for escaping this. Every movement of my wrists and ankles is a jerk on the crotch rope, pushing myself towards another climax. I loudly cry out in my panties, but my efforts are wasted on this. I am broken. I’ve been ass fucked, forced to swallow his cum twice, and potentially pumped full of his children. Now I’m slowly dying in a strangle hogtie of which there is no hope for me to escape. It’s pointless, and I collapse in another orgasm before I die. I guess my body wanted one more for the road. It’s amazing. Is it subspace, or is it tapping out? I don’t know. I have a lot of air left in me, but something about the situation…
“Sweetheart,†the rope around my throat is undone and lowered, and I squirm only a little.
“Mmmmm,†I am cumming again; it’s definitely subspace, and I tap to ask for one last orgasm.
“You still want a little more?†my boyfriend of the past 4 years asks me with concern.
“Mmm hmm,†I weakly nod and bashfully turn away in my ecstasy.
I resume the role, fighting and squealing while he fondles me and jerks on the crotch rope. Once I orgasm, he undoes the crotch rope and takes me from behind, doggy style, for one last orgasm of his own. That one isn’t as good as that first time he squeezed his juices into my mouth, but it is deeply satisfying. Tonight has been a dream. Enhancing it all is my love for the man before me now. Nothing tops a CNC game, but this one has been the greatest of them all.
He gives me some time to ditch the loopy state induced by the deepthroat, vaginal, and choking; I am on cloud nine still. Then, he surprises me. I’m telling you this story for a reason; our kinky journey is coming full circle. I don’t want to be let go, really. I want to be paddled and stuffed in a cage and so many other things that are very dark, very kinky, and very arousing. I sit on the edge of the bed, breathing deeply and still sucking upon my dirty pairs of underwear. Finally, he removes the tape and lets me spit out the panties, but I still am not ready to be untied. It will take a long time for me to regain my normal mental state, but it was completely worth it.
Things weren’t as they seemed, now, were they?
With love, XO
Alexandra Watkins, J.D.
