Wrong Number

by Jo

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© Copyright 2013 - Jo - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; M/f; capture; drug; tape; bond; gag; bdsm; crop; nipple; tease; toys; insert; mast; sex; climax; cons/reluct; X

Single caring dominant males seek playful submissive female for fun and games.

"Yeah, right."

Couple seeks bi female for play dates.

"Uh uh."

Gay male dom seeks gay male submissive. We all have limits, let's find yours. Safewords are not an option.

"Shit. Why do the queers have all the fun?"

Submissive female seeks same to share with my Master.

"Hmm. That may be-"

A knock came to the door. Startled, it took Lindsay three tries to close the alt.com window on the computer screen.

"Hi. I'm here about the toilet?"

"Uh. I think you have the wrong apartment."

"1108 Parkview?"

"That's right, but there's nothing wrong with it."

"Are you sure? We got a service call."

"Uh uh."

"Well, uh, as long as I'm here I can take a look at it. Kind of a courtesy call."

Lindsay hesitated. He looked legit. He had blue coveralls. A name tag with his picture hung from his pocket. An oval patch on the other pocket said Bill, same as the id. He had a large canvas tool bag and a clipboard. He rifled through the papers, retrieved a card.

"Free check and 10% for any future work. Good for a year."

Lindsay hesitated another moment, then stepped back, and said, "Sure."

In the bathroom he lifted the lid from the tank, depressed the level, watched the water go down.

"Seems okay. Let me clean this part off, make sure the valve isn't cracked."

He pulled a bit of cloth from the sack, a plastic bottle, upended it over the cloth, spun, and drove Lindsay stumbling back into the bedroom. She fetched up against the bed. Half on, half off she couldn't get a purchase with either her hands or feet. He was on her, pressing her down, holding the cloth to her face.

It took a few moments for her shock to turn to fear, but then the chemical took hold and her efforts were limited to ineffective flailing, then... nothing.

He eased off of her. She slipped to the floor. She wasn't completely out. Close, but not quite. Some part of her brain registered feet going into the bathroom, the bag being carried over to her.

He retrieved a roll of duct tape, peeled a bit. He rolled her onto her belly, pulled her arms behind her back, and taped her wrists. He taped her elbows, drawing them together until they nearly touched. He wrapped tape around her knees and ankles, sat her up and wrapped tape above and below her breasts. He rolled her partly onto her back and pressed three strips of tape across her mouth.

Lindsay lay, dazed and helpless. He began to undress, but, instead of underwear, he wore a black leather vest and black leather pants under his coveralls. He pulled a black leather hood from the sack and tugged it on. It covered most of his head, hung down to his neck, draped around his face in front.

He smiled at her. Not an unpleasant smile, she thought. The look of his face fought with the feelings of helpless, vulnerability, with a bit of fear, with the effects of the drug, leaving her totally confused, almost delirious.

He picked her up and set her on the bed, laid her back, raised her feet. Lindsay watched as he took several objects from the sack and set them on the night stand. There were handcuffs, a couple of ball-style gags, two vibrators (a slim, purple one, and a big, pink knobby one), an anal plug, a tube of lubricant, a blindfold. This last he pulled over Lindsay's head.

"No peaking."

He rolled her onto her back, grabbed her breast.

"Let's get acquainted, shall we?"

She was braless under her blue sweater, pantyless under her jeans. She liked the way the wool, soft as it was, scraped against her nipples, the way the thin denim gripped her pussy... especially when she was looking at porn. She liked to rub herself through her jeans, it made her nipples extra hard. The effect did not go unnoticed by her captor.

He stroked her face, her hair, squeezed her breasts, teased her nipples. Tugged and teased them some more. He rolled her over and squeezed and slapped her ass. He rolled her back, rested a hand on her hip.

"Nice. Very nice. Here's the deal. We spend a pleasant hour or so together, then I'll leave you to free yourself. Since I'm going to keep you gagged the safeword is three noises, any three noises and I'll stop. Okay?"

Her head was clearing, but she didn't quite catch it at first.

"Okay?"

Lindsay nodded. Then it hit her. Safeword? The guy assaults, drugs her, binds her, gropes her, and he's talking about safewords?

He left the room and returned a minute later. He moved the pillows, sat against the wall, pulled her back against him. She could smell the wine.

"I hate to rush into these things, you know."

She could hear him swallow as he sipped. He had his hand on her breast and was kneading her nipple through her sweater. Lindsay squirmed.

"Like that, do you? I've got some nipple clamps you might find interesting."

Her head was much clearer now and, yes, she found the idea very interesting. Interesting enough to make her pussy damp.

She heard him set the glass on the night stand. He eased out from behind her.

"Okay. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

He went back to groping her, focusing on her breasts, especially her nipples. He squeezed and twisted them. It hurt. Not a lot, but enough. Lindsay grunted and squirmed.

Then it hurt a lot. He pinched a nipple, tugged it, and fastened the clamp to it. Lindsay squealed behind her gag. He clamped the other nipple and she squealed again. He tugged on the clamps and she realized they were connected, probably by a bit of chain.

He unbuttoned her jeans, peeled them down over her hips, saw her thick, dark bush.

"No undies? Why you naughty girl."

He rolled her over and tugged them fully off her ass. The clamps bit into her nipples. She tried to lay still, but then he hit her, spanked her ass with something that she reasoned was some sort of crop. There was the shaft part and the slapper part.

He held her upper arm and swung away at her bottom. Gagged, Lindsay grunted and squealed. She squirmed despite the pain of the clamps.

She didn't count the strokes, but it was more than a dozen, maybe two. Then he rolled her over and dug his fingers between her thighs, between her pussy lips.

"Mm. That seems to have gotten your motor running."

He sliced the tape from her legs, tugged off her jeans, spread her wide.

"Lovely. You know bald pussies are overrated."

He stroked her, probed her, worked a finger into her, and rubbed her clit with his thumb. Between the clamps on her nipples and him rubbing her clit, Lindsay was in agony... or ecstasy. Hard to tell with these things.

Lindsay came.

"Ooh. That's didn't take long, did it? Let's see what's going on back here."

'Back here' was her anus. She felt him smear lube around it, then he pressed his finger into her, that got him a serious squealing reaction.

"Like that, do ya?"

No, she didn't, not at all. Stuff was supposed to come out of there, not go in. She had a boyfriend, once, who tried to do it and he got pissed when she wouldn't let him.

Then his finger was out and the plug was moving in. It wasn't a big thing, if it was the one she'd seen, and it didn't hurt, damned uncomfortable, but no pain, but it felt just... wrong.

Part of her wanted to grunt three times, but she couldn't. She was too busy squealing and squirming and when she finally caught her breath the thing was inside of her. And she had become seriously excited. Not from the plug in her ass, but by the way he had to manhandle her. She was no weakling, but he had subdued her. Even bound as she was, she put up a fight. But he held her, held her while he plugged her ass. And she liked the feel of him gripping her, his weight on her.

Lindsay lay panting. He slit the tape binding her arms, unclipped the clamps. Lindsay resisted a shriek as they came off. He pulled her sweater up and over her head, down her arms behind. He slit the tape on her elbows and tugged the sweater down to her wrists. He fastened a set of handcuffs on her wrists, slit the final bit of tape and pulled the sweater free. He adjusted the cuffs. He took a second pair and snicked them on her ankles. He clamped her nipples again.

She felt him shift on the bed, heard him pick something up - metal on wood. He peeled a bit of tape from her mouth, pulled slowly and the layers came away as one. He clamped his hand to her mouth, pinched her nose, held her until she became frantic. As she opened her mouth to gasp for air, he pushed the ball in, wedged it behind her teeth. It was a harness gag and he fiddled with buckles for a minute.

Then he got down to some serious diddling.

He wedged his leg between hers, forcing her knees apart. He played with her pussy using his hand at first. Lindsay came, came again. Then she heard the vibrator. She wished he wouldn't. Wished he'd just fuck her. She had vibrators of her own, but only used them in desperation and never found them particularly satisfying. But being cuffed and helpless, ass plugged, well, having him shove the rubber thing into her pussy seemed kind of right.

She was seriously limp when he finished with her. Wouldn't have, couldn't have resisted when he undid the cuffs on her ankles. Couldn't have resisted when he walked her into the living room and draped her over the ottoman, tied her knees to the legs, undid the wrist cuffs and tied her wrists to the other legs.

He flogged her, gently. It felt like a serious bit of leather by the weight of it, but it barely stung. And he fucked her, kneeling behind, pushing into her with slow, steady strokes.

When he finished he pulled out of her. She could hear him in her bedroom. It sounded like he was packing his bag. Sure enough he returned sack in one hand, coverall in the other. He bent and began to untie her right wrist.

His phone chirped and he cursed himself for not shutting it off.

"Hold that thought."

He stepped over to his clothes, fished the phone from his pocket with the intent of simply turning it off, but then he saw the id. It was Jesse. His roommate and business partner of sorts. He left the room and closed the door.

"Yeah."

"Where are you."

"With the client."

"She just called."

"No, she's tied to the ottoman in the living room."

"Are you sure that's the right address?"

"Yeah. 1108 Parkview Villas."

"1108? Brad it was 8011."

"What?!"

"8011, Brad. You're at the wrong place."

"Oh shit."

Brad shut the phone off. His heart raced. His hand shook as he reached for the knob, pulled the door open. The woman, naked, bound face down over the ottoman, lay still. Her dark hair hung down over her face.

"I uh...I... There's been a mistake. Uh. Shit. My name is Brad, of Brad's Rent A Dom. It's a service, kind of. I uh... I had an appointment here... here at Parkview I mean. But, uh, I got the address backwards. Heh heh. Shit. Sorry. Here. Let me untie you."

"Mmf!"

"What?"

The woman shook her head.

"MMF! MMF!"

Brad squatted down, fumbled with the buckle, popped the ball from her mouth.

"No."

"No? Uh... what?"

He pulled the blindfold off.

"Flog me... again, Sir, but harder, please."

She opened her mouth, wide.

Brad looked at the ball in his hand, then at the woman's face. She closed her eyes and whispered, "Please..."

 

 

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11.12.13