Bound For Trouble

He was dressed for his burglar role, in black slacks and polo necked sweater. A black woolen mask lay on the passenger seat of the car, along with a set of handcuffs. There was no denying he would miss the excitement of Stephanie. Andrea might be rich and beautiful, but it would be a cold day in hell before she played any games involving handcuffs and masks.

Roland stepped on the accelerator pedal, nerves tingling with anticipation. He felt like he was hooked to an invisible line and Stephanie was reeling him in. The two large whiskies he had gulped down before leaving his apartment intensified his yearning for her. He knew he was taking a foolish and unnecessary risk – driving while over the limit, but he didn’t care. Let there be recklessness, he thought. For tomorrow, I finally grow up.

His cock stiffened in his slacks as he contemplated how he might take her. He visualized himself stealing up the stairs and into her dimly lit bedroom, face concealed beneath his mask. She lay face down on the bed, pretending to be asleep. A sinister shadow loomed on the wall above her as he carefully approached, handcuffs dangling from his right hand. He leaned over the bed and gently drew down the sheet, exposing her luscious, creamy nakedness. Still she remained motionless, a study in perfect helplessness, even though he knew she was wide awake.

There was a soft clink as he snapped a manacle over her right wrist. She moaned, as though dreaming, permitting both wrists to be secured to the brass bars at the head of the bed. Only then did she decide the time was right to pretend she had been shocked into full wakefulness and begin struggling.

“Who are you?” she cried. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m your Master,” he growled. “What am I going to do to you? Anything my wicked heart desires. You’re helpless.”

His tongue poked through the mouth slit of his mask, joining his leather-gloved hands in roaming down the length of her body. She continued to protest and feebly pretend that this was not what she really wanted. But by the time his tongue reached the slope of her buttocks, the only sounds escaping her lips were of pure pleasure. She urged him not to stop, breathlessly begging him to feast on the wet, musky treasure between her thighs.

Andrea was relegated to the back of his mind, as his lust for Stephanie consumed him. The twenty-minute drive to her house seemed to be taking forever. Ordinarily, Roland would have taken care not to break the speed limit. But passion and whisky were a dangerous combination. A flashing blue light suddenly appeared in his rearview mirror and he slammed on the brakes. But it was too late. As the police car drew up behind him, he groaned in dismay.

Had her mouth not been taped, Stephanie would have practically been screaming with pleasure. The vibrator played a magical drumbeat on her clitoris, sending sensual shockwaves through ever fiber of her body. She strained against the bonds around her ankles and wrists, but there was no possibility of escape. Not that she wanted to break loose. She loved the feeling of complete helplessness. Her struggles were just to reassure herself that she was dependent on her Master to set her free.

She glanced at the bedside clock and wondered why he was taking so long. She had been tied to the chair for nearly an hour. If he did not get here soon, the vibrator would have exhausted her for him. Of course, he might already be in the house. At that moment, he might be creeping up the stairs, salivating like a hungry wolf, eager to devour his slave.

Stephanie had another surprise in store for him – one she would save until they lay in each other’s arms, sweat soaked and temporarily sated. At the end of the month, they would be able to spend an entire weekend together. She already had the details worked out. She would tell her husband she was going to a health farm, to try and lose those pounds she seemed to be constantly complaining about lately. She would get plenty of exercise alright, but in a hotel room with Roland. It was an idea she was certain would please him. Had he not often hinted that he would like to spend more time with her?

She wished she had not taped her mouth now, as it prevented her from giving voice to her pleasure. She would have liked for him to be able to hear her softly moan as he stealthily ascended the stairs, the sounds firing his imagination. He might expect to find her spread-eagled on the bed, vigorously fucking herself with the vibrator, knees drawn up to her chest. How much more erotic the sight that would actually greet him.

There was nothing she could do about the tape now, except put up with it. She tried to move her breasts, to ease the pain of the chair bars digging into them, but that too was impossible. In trying, she only succeeded in giving her nipples another painful tweak. Her inner thighs and the seat beneath her were slick with the sex cream that oozed from her fuck battered cunt. She needed a few moments to catch her breath and replenish her energies, but it was no use begging a vibrator for mercy. Where was her Master when she needed him most?

Roland felt as if he had stumbled through the back door of a dream, into a living nightmare. He had been speeding. No point denying it. Just stay calm, be polite and apologetic. It was not the end of the world. The police officer checking his driver’s license had been encouragingly cheerful, until he caught the smell of whisky on his breath.

That brought a swift end to the pleasantness. Roland was ordered to step from the car and take a breath test. Even at that stage, he clung to a few strands of hope. He wasn’t drunk. He had only drunk two average sized shots. Hope gave way to despair, however, when one of the two officers informed him that he had tested positive and was under arrest. Suddenly, parting from Stephanie was the least of his worries. Once word of this reached Andrea, he could kiss both her and his career goodbye.

“Hey, Matt, take a look at these,” said the younger police officer, spotting the handcuffs and mask on the passenger seat.

Stephanie was becoming ever more anxious. She had been tied up for nearly three hours and there was still no sign of Roland. Thoughts she would rather not entertain raced through her head. What if he had been in an accident? She would be left here in the chair, unable to free herself.

Another terrifying thought occurred to her. Could he have decided he did not want to see her again? In the heat of her desperate need for him, she had dismissed the caution she detected over the telephone. Until the irresistible tones of seduction were turned on, he had been reluctant to come to her. Perhaps, as a last act of the kind of callous indifference she knew he was well capable of, he had decided she could stew in her own juices. Did she think she was the only woman in the world, that she could summon him at will? Even if he was not abandoning her for good, he might have decided she needed a refresher course in the casual relationship between Master and slave. How was he to know she had stuffed her cunt with a vibrator and tied herself up? He could hardly be blamed for her wanton foolishness.

Fitting the vibrator with a fresh set of batteries had been typical of her preparations. The infernal thing would still be going strong when her husband arrived home, in about five hours, by which time her cunt would feel like it had been pounded to jelly. Stephanie looked at the clock again and made a fresh bid to break her bonds, but only managed to pull them tighter. She had no choice but to face the appalling facts. There was no escape and her Master was not coming to her rescue. It was her husband who would receive the surprise.

There was plenty of time to concoct some wild story about an intruder having broken in and subjected her to a perverse bondage ordeal. But Matt was unlikely to be convinced. He was a policeman, after all.

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