I was 22, grinding away as an executive assistant at this hot tech startup in the heart of Silicon Valley. Guys can’t get enough—I’ve got those hourglass curves that turn heads, plump lips that scream “kiss me,” and a flirty smile that seals the deal. On a good day, I’d rate myself an eight or nine, no doubt. Just ghosted my ex after two years because he was such a total wimp, always handing me the reins like I was his mommy. Cute at first, him doting on me nonstop, but it killed the spark. I need a real alpha—tall, ripped, the kind who grabs you by the waist, pins you down, and makes you feel utterly protected and owned. Not some soft boy who cries during rom-coms. So, yeah, I bounced.
The breakup gutted me for a hot minute, but work’s been a whirlwind, and ditching that baggage? Total freedom high. It’s Friday night, and after smashing my deadlines, I’m diving into a boss-blessed week of vacay bliss. Didn’t want to screw over the team, so I hustled through overtime, wrapping everything up past 10 PM.
Sauntering home through the misty city streets, I was daydreaming hard—sandy beaches, endless cocktails, maybe a steamy hookup with a stranger who knows exactly how to dominate. Totally oblivious until wham! Arms like iron bands locked around my midriff from behind, yanking me off my feet and slamming me belly-down on the gritty sidewalk. My brain short-circuited—pure terror freeze, no time to scream or scratch.
He twisted my wrists behind my back, coarse rope digging into my skin as he knotted it tight, the fibers scratching like sandpaper. I finally thrashed, bucking wildly, but he straddled my ass, his heavy thighs crushing me flat, every wiggle pointless. Gasping to shout, I spotted boots in my blurry vision—another guy. He dropped to a squat, vise-grip fingers clamping my jaw, prying my lips apart with bruising force. A wadded cloth jammed deep into my mouth, tasting salty and musty, then a strip cinched between my teeth, tying off at the back of my head in a cruel knot. All I could muster were pathetic, distant moans, vibrating uselessly against the gag.
Black fabric hood yanked over my head—world gone dark. God, please, someone save me! The first creep secured my wrists ironclad, then flipped to pin my thighs, looping rope around my ankles and yanking hard. He hauled my feet toward my bound hands, bowing my body into a taut arch, heels brushing fingertips. Muscles screamed, joints throbbed with fiery strain, but I was nothing but a helpless package on the cold ground.
Engine rumble nearby. Rough hands scooped me up, dumping me into the car like discarded trash. Doors thunked shut, tires screeched away. Sprawled across a lap, his palms wasted no time invading—slithering under my top, hot and callused, cupping my full breasts, thumbs circling my nipples until they pebbled hard, sending unwanted jolts straight to my core. Fear mixed with a traitorous heat as his fingers dipped lower, shoving my skirt up, tracing the dampening crotch of my thong. I squirmed desperately, but he held firm, rubbing my swelling clit through the lace, my traitorous pussy leaking slick arousal onto his fingertips.
The drive dragged, endless turns blurring my sense of direction, until we jerked to a stop. They hoisted me out, carried me like a sack into some dim space, plunked me down, and ripped off the hood. Harsh lights stabbed my eyes; I blinked through tears to see two hooded figures—women’s nylons stretched taut over their faces, eyes gleaming with dark hunger, lips curled in smirks. The taller one dangled a gleaming knife inches from my nose, the cold steel edge whispering death. My pulse thundered: This is it, they’re gonna gut me.
“Pay attention, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice like gravel. “Masks on ’cause we ain’t killers. Be a good girl, give us what we want, and we’ll cut you loose after. Nod if you’re smart.”
A wave of shaky relief hit—survival trumped everything. I bobbed my head frantically.
The shorter one sliced the hogtie rope—sweet mercy as my spine uncurled. I drew my knees close, gasping. He unzipped my skirt with a slow, teasing pull, sliding the fabric down my hips, baring my lacy thong clinging to my mound like a second skin. Tall guy tapped the knife blade lightly on my cheek, the chill metal a warning. “Don’t make this hard, babe.”
Fuck it—live to fight another day. Getting railed? Unavoidable, and hell, I’m no virgin; it’s just bodies clashing. Ride it out. I nodded.
Shorty hooked his thumbs in my thong and nylons, dragging them down in one fluid yank, cool air kissing my bare, shaved pussy, lips already parting slightly, a faint glisten of unwilling wetness. He unbound my ankles—I pictured stomping his groin, but fear won. Heeled pumps slipped off, then the rest stripped away, leaving my slit fully exposed, pink folds quivering in the draft.
Tall guy yanked me upright, steering me to a low wooden table, about hip-high, solid and unyielding. He perched on the edge, his muscular legs wrapping my waist like a trap, fingers deftly unbuttoning my blouse to reveal my push-up bra straining over my heaving D-cups. Shorty crouched behind, wedging a thick wooden rod behind my knees, roping it brutally to my thighs and calves—legs locked rigid, no give at all. He splayed my feet wide, ankles lashed to the table’s legs, spreading me vulnerably. Blouse gaped open now. Shorty freed my numb wrists, blood rushing back in prickly waves.
“Strip it all—top and bra off,” Tall commanded, knife glinting.
Trapped, exposed, their eyes devouring—I had zero plays. I shrugged the blouse free, fingers trembling on my bra clasp. A sharp slap stung my face, heat blooming. I unhooked, straps sliding down, my heavy tits bouncing out—full, creamy globes with rosy nipples stiffening in the cool room, begging for attention despite my shame.
Shorty seized my arms, forcing them crossed at the elbows behind my back. “Grip those elbows tight.” Rope coiled like a snake, cinching my forearms together, yanking my shoulders back until my chest thrust forward obscenely, tits on proud display. More loops pulled my bound arms up, the rope circling my neck—a garrote if I slumped, forcing my chin high, back arched, breasts heaving with each panicked breath. Shoulders burned, neck strained, but to breathe meant pushing those swollen mounds out like an offering, nipples tingling from the exposure.
Nothing hits a girl harder than baring her tits—right there by your face, impossible to hide, vulnerability on blast. Forced to arch and present them, peaks hardening under their leers, humiliation surged hot, twisting with a forbidden pulse between my thighs.
Tall untied the mouth strip, yanking the soggy rag free. Air flooded in sweet—I almost begged, but the knife hushed me. He produced a ring gag, leather-clad metal circle gleaming. “Mouth wide, slut.” I parted my lips; he wedged it in, buckling straps tight behind my head, jaw stretched aching wide, drool already trickling down my chin, tongue lolling uselessly.
Endless ropes—they were obsessed. He wrapped bands above my tits, crossing behind, then below, cinching through my cleavage with brutal tugs. My breasts ballooned, skin flushing hot and taut, veins throbbing, nipples engorging into fat, sensitive buds that ached for touch. “God, these jugs would drop jaws on the street,” my mind raced wildly, shame burning.
Tall slid off; Shorty shoved me forward, belly smacking the table. They tweaked my position, dangling my heavy tits over the edge, swaying freely. Waist rope yanked under the table, knotted down—pinned flat, immobile. Knees rigid from the rod, ass hiked sky-high, pussy thrust out lewdly, lips splaying wide to reveal my glistening inner folds, clit peeking swollen, cool air teasing the hot, weeping entrance.
I felt like a desperate bitch in heat, cunt presented for mounting, juices starting to drip down my thighs. Worst? A dark thrill built, core clenching hungrily.
A glass slid under my chin, catching the steady stream of drool from my propped-open mouth, lips glossy and parted invitingly.
They prowled around, voices low and hungry: “Fuck, she’s stacked—perky tits, that ass begging for it.”
Shorty dipped out, returned, and slipped my sky-high stilettos back on—five-inch killers forcing me onto tiptoes, ass lifting even higher, back bowing painfully, pussy blooming open wider, slick heat cooling on exposed skin.
My head sagged, drool plopping into the glass like rain. Degrading as hell, but my nerves ignited, body humming.
Shorty’s hands roamed—warm, possessive sweeps down my back, kneading my ass cheeks, spreading them to expose my tight pucker. Fingers trailed thighs, calves—skin erupted in shivers, bonds shifting ache to a deep, itchy crave that pooled scorching in my pussy.
“You’re creaming already, aren’t you?” Shorty murmured, a finger dipping into my slit, sliding through hot, velvety folds, circling my throbbing clit. “This little cunt’s flooding.”
Cheeks flamed—god, yes, my juices coated him, clit pulsing visibly under his touch.
Then his tongue—hot, wet velvet—lapped from my perineum up, swirling over my engorged clit, sucking with gentle pulls that sent lightning through me. I quaked, ass clenching to trap that slick heat, body arching instinctively. Tall stripped down, his cock springing free—thick, veined monster with a bulging purple head oozing pre-cum, dwarfing my ex’s pathetic thing. He mauled my tits, palms scorching the swollen flesh, fingers pinching and twisting nipples, zaps shooting straight to my dripping core.
Lost now, pussy gaping hungrily, cool drafts invading my slick depths. I panted through the ring, garbled moans escaping, hips twitching for more. “Clit’s out and begging—you’re such a needy whore,” Shorty growled, tongue assaulting relentlessly—flicking my folds, sucking clit hard, hot breath fanning my wetness.
Pressure built, coiling tight… then detonation! Orgasm tore through, pussy convulsing in hot spasms, juices squirting in warm gushes, body bucking against unyielding ropes. My scream muffled frustratingly—craved to howl it out.
Shorty’s cockhead pressed hot against my entrance, parting my puffy lips, teasing the soaked ring. “Fuck me already,” my mind screamed, body primed. He nudged the fat tip in, stretching me with a delicious burn, walls yielding to his girth. Bigger than anything—ex was a joke. Shallow thrusts tortured, friction sparking but denying depth, my inner muscles clenching desperate.
I squeezed hard; he laughed low. “Can’t wait, huh?” Then rammed home—cock spearing deep, hot and unyielding, filling every inch, bumping my cervix with a deep, aching thud. Stuffed full, walls hugging his veiny shaft, heat radiating through me. He pounded—long, brutal strokes, balls slapping my wet ass with sticky smacks, cock dragging out cool and empty, slamming back in scorching full.
Waves crashed, another climax ripping—pussy milking him greedily, flooding with fresh hot slick, body shattering in ecstatic tremors.
Tall gripped my chin, angling my stretched mouth; his cock thrust in—salty pre-cum flooding my tongue, shaft thick and ridged, forcing deep into my throat. I gagged at first, eyes watering, but adjusted, tongue swirling the underside. They synced—plunging in tandem, stuffing my holes full of hot, throbbing meat; withdrawing to leave me aching void.
Orgasms chained endlessly, skin glossy with sweat, pussy cream trailing down thighs to pool in my heels, drool cascading over my chin and tits.
Shorty ramped up, breaths ragged, thrusts short and frantic. Final slam—cock buried balls-deep, pulsing wildly, unleashing thick ropes of scorching cum against my cervix, flooding my womb creamy hot. I exploded, walls spasming to suck him dry, every nerve firing white-hot.
Tall matched, throat-fucking mercilessly—air thin, head spinning in dizzy bliss. He erupted—gooey blasts searing my esophagus, salty-bitter essence I swallowed down, no choice, the flavor lingering thick.
They withdrew, leaving me a quivering wreck, euphoric void settling. They shared the drool-filled glass, sipping like fine wine. “Tastes like pure honeyed sin.”
Time blurred. They unbound me gently, carried my limp form to the bathroom, warm water cascading over rope-kissed skin, their hands soothing bruises with tender massages. In bed, they enveloped me, my sobs softening in their embrace.
Confession time: They’d eyed me for weeks, obsessed with my fire. Masks kept it anonymous—no badges involved. Weirdly grateful—they could’ve snuffed me easy.
“Admit it, you loved it?” they probed.
Inner war raged, but truth won: “Terrified at first… but yeah, it blew my mind.”
They broke down BDSM—bondage tapping into secret ravish fantasies, total submission unlocking explosive highs. It clicked: Terror morphed to surrender, every sense hyper-tuned to raw, filthy pleasure.
They pleaded for more. Hesitant but hooked, I whispered yes for dawn.
“Training” round: Ropes framing my tits like a kinky harness, plumping them into ripe, aching orbs. Elbows welded tight behind, wrists locked—arms fused into one useless limb. Knotted crotch rope at my waist, threaded through my slit—bumps grinding my swollen clit, dripping entrance, and tight ass as they yanked it taut, embedding deep.
Inferno ignited—every twitch rubbed those knots into my slick folds, clit buzzing electric. One leg frog-tied, heel dug into ass cheek. My cum-soaked thong and nylons crammed in my mouth—musky pussy tang mixed with faint piss sharpness, sticky on my tongue, forcing me to savor my own filth. Leather mask strapped over, encasing my face, muffling cries to needy whimpers.
Left alone in pitch black, bonds pulsed with my racing heart. Tits swelled scorching, nipples throbbing like beacons. Wriggling only worsened it—crotch rope sawing my drenched pussy, knots merciless on my clit, sending shockwaves. Sweat poured, skin slick, cunt weeping rivers of arousal down my thighs, pooling on the sheets. I thrashed like a caged animal, craving their cocks to quench the fire.
Lights flared—they loomed at the bedside. I rolled toward them submissively, body arched in offering. Unbound, I pounced—sucking their thick shafts deep, tits smothering balls, pussy and ass taking pounding after pounding, walls stretched and filled with hot, veiny meat until I screamed in bliss.
By dawn, utterly spent, they drove me home. Last tease: That knotted crotch rope buried in my slit, knots nipping my clit with every bump. Dressed over it—bra cupping tender tits, skirt hiding the secret torment, soggy thong and nylons clinging wet. Wrists loosely bound behind. Hood off blocks from my door; a pill pushed past my lips. “Morning-after insurance—we’re clean, babe.” Keys clutched in bound hands, purse strap clenched in teeth like a bit. “Strut the rest. Later.”
Empty streets, each heel-click yanking the rope, clit grinding to near-orgasm. Home at last, knife slicing wrists free, I stripped frantic, collapsing with the rope still tormenting my pussy, sleep claiming me mid-moan.
Morning hit with bladder urgency; plopping on the toilet yanked the rope deep, hot piss streaming over the cord, soaking my slit in warm, tingling release that drew a guttural groan. Fingers shook untying it finally, knife finishing the job.
Rope welts faded like whispers, but the memories? Pure fire. Rape? Hell, I begged for seconds. Pain? Wrapped in ecstasy. Snitch? No way—cops would dissect every thrust, every cumshot. Let it burn inside. I’m alive… and forever craving that edge.
