Tie Me Up & Make Me Blow You - Chapter 5

Chapter 5
 
It always amazed her that these men knew what she liked and what she was like. How did they know? Intuitively, they just did. Even though she tried to suppress her sexual desires and put the need for bondage and discipline behind her, they somehow recognized that fetish about her and knew she liked it rough. 

Only, how did they know? It was a question she asked over again and the answer baffled her. How did they know she was a slut for cock? Again, how did they know? They knew she liked having her ass slapped or her hair pulled while being forced to give them what they wanted. They knew she liked being forced when making her blow them. They knew she loved cock. It made her wild when they held her arms behind her back and touched her while forcing her to touch them. 

It was because he slapped her ass with the hairbrush, forced her to her knees, slapped her across her face, pulled her hair, and then pulled her head forward to take his cock in her mouth that she blew him. She needed that aggression to excite her and it was his violent behavior that excited her enough to suck his cock and she would have finished him off, had someone not come to the bathroom door looking for her.

Contrary to the gentleness and gentlemanly behavior of her husband, she more enjoyed the behavior of a brute. She enjoyed being used and abused. Slap me silly and tie me up, there was something so sexually exciting about a man who knew what he wanted and who took it from her. That's what revved her engines to overdrive. Just like it was back in her college days, more than once she imagined being tied up, slapped around a little, and gangbanged by a group of men, so long as they didn't hurt her and so long as they let her go after they were done with her.

Everything was so perfect in Kathy's life. She had the big house, the expensive cars, the luxury trips, the extended shopping excursions, the endless supply of money, the one-of-a-kind jewels, and she had her precious pearls. She possessed many items that were more valuable than her pearls and except for her flawless, five karat, princess cut diamond ring, there was no other piece of jewelry that she cherished and wore as much, as she did her pearls. She loved her pearls and she loved wearing them. 

She was so very happy, that is, until the day that a burglar changed her perfect little life forever.

When she left, she thought her house was secured and it was, but not from a professional burglar intent on robbing her. He knew where all the security cameras were on the golf course and once past her backdoor gate with his passkey and now hidden from view from the other golfers on the course by her privacy fence that ran along her backyard and that protected her windows from errant golf balls, the burglar came in through the sliding glass door.

Maintaining a low profile and carrying a golf bag, he pretended to be another golfer on the course. It was an exclusive club with members only and with all guests signing in; guests who must be accompanied by a member at all times. Then, after he finished robbing the place, he'd stash his bag of loot in his golf bag, continue his game of golf, and head home to the other side of the 3rd green where he lived. It was a perfect crime that he had perfected over several years and dozens of burglaries.

He had spent considerable time planning and casing her house. He knew that both her son Randy and daughter Mandy were away at college. He knew that Kathy's husband, Robert, had already left for work. He knew they didn't have a dog. He even knew that the house cleaner didn't come until tomorrow, the pool man wasn't due until Monday, the gardener had already come and gone, and the rest of the staff, the maid, the butler, and the chef were dismissed from duty today, as the madam of the house would not be at home.

The only fly in the ointment was the chauffeur who usually doubled as an armed bodyguard, but they didn't have one. Feeling safe and secure in the private confines of their exclusive residence, even though it had undergone some recent house break-ins, they thought it would never happen to them. Besides they had a state of the art alarm system and a secure safe where they kept all their valuables. Moreover, Robert loved driving his baby blue Bentley GT and Kathy enjoyed the private comfort her AMG SL63 Mercedes gave her when she drove her car alone. Further, it was difficult flashing truckers her tits or toll booth attendants her pussy when driven by a chauffeured automobile that had dark privacy glass.

He even knew that Kathy was leaving the house early to meet her friends in New York for a day of gossip, laughing, and shopping. They had already left the day before and she was to catch up with them later today for lunch. Her super fast luxury automobile made short work of the long drive from her Lennox residence that was hidden away in the mountains of the Berkshires of Massachusetts to the crowded downtown streets of Manhattan Island in New York. He surmised that he sometimes knew more about the people he robbed then they did. Yet, that was his job and that was the reason why he had never been caught.

It was his business to know all this and he knew all this because he belonged to the same country club and was privy to much of the same conversations that the members had with one another. Nothing was ever forced. He never asked a question that would make someone suspicious or jolt a memory from someone to remember that he was the one seeking the information that was required to rob someone's house. He just listened and watched and waited.

He was in no hurry after all. He lived here. He was already home. His victims would tell him everything he needed to know, which is why they were his victims. He didn't have to go looking for them because they came to him.

So long as he listened, so long as he watched, and so long as he waited, the perfect opportunity would present itself to him. It always had before. He was in no hurry. He had plenty of money to wait it out until the right job came along. 

Greed is what put a lot of smart guys in jail. He wasn't greedy. He didn't have a wife to satisfy or children to feed. He lived alone and all he needed to keep him in the lifestyle that he had become accustomed was to hit four houses a year, any more than that and it was as much of a bonus as it was risky. He only took what he needed, never burglarized in the nighttime, never carried a weapon, and he always worked alone. No one knew he was a burglar, not his friends or family, and surely not the police. He had no record, not even a parking ticket. He was safe in being anonymous. 

Always, he kept a low profile. Always, he remained in the background. Generally, he was invisible learning early to never flash cash around because that would surely call attention to him. He didn't even wear jewelry, only a watch, an old Rolex that he inherited from his grandfather. He never became attached to what he stole.. The platinum, the gold, and the precious gem stones never attracted his interest, as they did those who paid a small fortune to buy them and to those who ended up hoarding them. He was satisfied just to steal them to sell them.

The thing he loved was money. Money would buy him his freedom one day. Money would allow him to disappear somewhere in the South Pacific to live out the rest of his life in luxury with a woman half his age. As once did Hemingway, he imagined her having nipples that pointed to the sun, a face that he never tired staring at, and a tan that contrasted with the white sands of the private beach he owned. He imagined a place that had no cars and no roads. Wherever he wanted to go to the mainland, he traveled by boat. 

He knew to never lose control of his emotions by drinking too much or talking too much nor did he want to appear odd by talking too little. It was a balance to maintain his anonymous lifestyle and to avoid suspicion. Always, he remained in control and he trusted no one but himself. Some of the conversation he overheard and other conversations he listened to were innocently imparted to him over drinks at the bar. They didn't know he was listening nor did they know he was a burglar. They thought he was a retired businessman and a man of the world who grew tired of work and traveling and just wanted to play golf all day. They thought he was one of them.

It was a small community of wealthy people. Certainly, it was worth the five figure membership fee for the burglar to join the club. This is where he found all his victims, after all. After shooting a round of golf and buying them a few rounds of drinks in the clubhouse, they told him all he needed to know. They told him who had what and where they kept it. People liked to brag, especially once the alcohol loosened their tongues and especially when they thought they were in the company of someone they felt they could impress and/or trust. 

He preferred hitting a house every season. That way, by the time he was ready to hit his next house, the police investigation had cooled and the heat was off. Except for those that it happened to, once the insurance paid the claim for their losses, the community of perfect people forgot that it ever happened. People of wealth had a short memory of being robbed of so little. The money he stole was incidental and the jewelry he took was mere bobbles. They hoarded their real money in investments and kept the good jewelry in safety deposit boxes. Once in a while he'd get lucky and catch them with their pants down, usually after they've been to an important dinner or function and didn't have the time or forgot to return their jewels to the bank for safe keeping.. 

There were enough rich people who lived here that he could burglarize four homes a year for the next ten years and retire rich. Unless the house changed owners, never did he hit the same house twice. So as to not make him suspect, he even pretended that he was robbed. He even collected from his insurance company on the bogus claim that was supported by the routine investigation done by the local police. Plenty of the members were there ready to commiserate with him and to further take him in their trust. After all, he was just burglarized, too. They'd never suspect him now. 

He thought there was no one home and at the time he had entered the house, there was no one home. It was empty. He had seen Kathy leave for New York in her car. He even knew how to bypass her alarm. He had the same alarm in his house. Only, Kathy returned home for her forgotten pearls.

Even with this sudden turn of events, so long as he remained motionless to not to set off the motion detectors, he would have turned back on the alarm and remained hidden in the house and unnoticed by Kathy until she took her pearls and left again, except he had already bagged her precious pearls. He wished he hadn't been so quick to hit the jewelry box that was in plain sight on her bedroom dresser. He should have stuck to the contents of the safe and left. He would have already been gone had he not strayed from his motus of operandi by taking anything that was not in the safe. He would have been in and out before anyone had known. He would have been long gone before she returned home for her pearls.

Kathy opened the front door and immediately she panicked when she went to turn off the alarm and it was off already.

"Damn! Did I forget to turn on the alarm again? No, I distinctly remember setting the alarm, hearing the beep, and locking the door."

She knew she had been robbed. She hadn't been gone that long, only about twenty minutes. Maybe they were still in the house. Get out! Get out now and call the police! Just as she turned and headed for the front door, she saw him.

"Who are you?"

"Relax."

"What do you want?"

"I'm just here to rob you."

"My husband will be home any minute."

"I'll be gone in just a few minutes."

Details she said to herself, remember to get details of what he looks like so that you can report him to the police. Only, he looked like any other middle aged golfer to her with his Scottish cap and brightly colored golfing attire. There was nothing special about him or his clothes. She was inching her way towards the alarm to hit the panic button but, from where she was, she could see that he had already disabled it.

"Please don't hurt me."

"I'm not here to hurt you, but I will if you don't cooperate with me. Now, get in the bedroom, please," he said.

"Take what you want, just don't hurt me."

"I've already taken all that I want and all that you have," he said holding up a small, leather valise that was the perfect size to fit at the bottom of his golf bag.

"My pearls? You took my pearls," she said with her eyes welling up and her voice cracking. "They were a gift. They are special to me. Please don't take my pearls."

"Yeah, well, your insurance can buy you new pearls." He gave her a push. "Now, move your sweet ass in the bedroom."

Afraid and fearing for her life, she did what he told her to do.

"What are you going to do with me? Can't you just leave? I promise I won't call the police. You can take all that you have. Just go," she said. "You can even take my car. It's parked in the driveway and the keys are in my purse. There's money there, too, a few thousand dollars, I think."

"Yeah, sure, lady, I'll never make it off the golf course before the place is surrounded and swarming with cops. Do I look like I was born yesterday?"

"No."

"Do I have sucker written on my forehead?"

"No."

"Then, get in the bedroom like I told you to do."

"Okay, okay, I'm going. Just don't hurt me."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Kathy walked down the hall with the burglar behind her. She entered her bedroom.

"Get on the bed."

"Please don't rape me," she said suddenly excited by the thoughts of him pushing her down on the bed, stripping her naked, and forcing himself on her.

She imagined him forcing her to kiss him and slapping her face, pulling her hair, and spanking her ass when she refused. She imagined him tearing open her blouse and fondling her tits through her bra. She imagined him tearing off her skirt and touching her pussy through her panty before moving the material aside to violate her with his fingers. She imagined him cutting off her bra and panty with a pair of scissors and being naked while he got naked, too. She imagined him touching her everywhere before fucking her really hard and then pulling her hair, slapping her face and ass again while forcing her to blow him.

"Lady, I don't want your body. I just want your money and jewels and I already have those. Now, do what I say and just get on the bed, please."

Deflated that he didn't want her, she sat on the bed thinking that he was very polite. He sounded educated, too, college educated. She wondered where he went to school. She wondered why someone so educated would turn to a life of crime. She wondered what his first name was. She thought about the cat burglars in the movies. Then, she thought about the Pink Panther. He did look a little like David Niven.

"What are you going to do?"

"Lie down please."

"Tell me first, please" she said looking up at him and making eye contact. "What are you going to do? I need to know."

"I'm going to tie you up, but I'll make the ties loose enough that if you struggle enough, they'll loosen. Okay?"

"I have people, friends, expecting me in New York. If I don't show, they'll worry and call the police."

"Like I said, Lady, if you wiggle around a bit, you'll free yourself."

She felt a twinge of warm wetness between her legs as soon as he said that he was going to tie her up.

"Okay," she said reclining back.

"Are you comfortable? "

"Yes."

"What do you have that I can use to tie you up?"

"I have some scarves."

"Where?"

"In the top drawer of the dresser. Use the silk ones please. They won't leave a mark."

He looked at her before opening the drawer. 

"You've been tied up before?"

"No, uhm, I read a lot of crime novels."

"That's funny. I didn't see any crime novels when I was looking around your house."

"I get them from the library and return them," she said suddenly feeling awkward by the conversation. She didn't want him to know that she was enjoying this. For her to continue her sexual excitement, she needed him to think she was a victim.

He opened the drawer and looked through her things.

"There are only panties in here," he said holding up a handful of her most delicate delicates. "C'mon, lady, I'm not here to play games."

"Sorry, they are in drawer beside that one."

He opened it and pulled out four scarves.

He tied one wrist to the bed post. Then, he tied her other wrist. 

"Spread your legs."

"If I do, I'll be totally exposed," she said biting her lip with the thought of it. "You'll see my panty."

"I promise not to look."

Kathy spread her legs and when she did her skirt rose up to the middle of her thigh. If he was looking he could clearly see between her legs. If he was looking, he could clearly see her sheer panty. He was looking and it excited her to see him look. She watched him look and then look away, as if he was embarrassed. She watched his eyes dart back and away again. It was apparent to her that he was interested but didn't want her to catch him looking. It excited her to catch him looking. She was especially fond of the game of exhibitionism and voyeurism. She had played this game many times before with many different men.

"Wait."

"Now what?"

"I have to pee. Whenever I'm frightened, I need to go."

He untied her wrists.

"I told you already, I'm not going to hurt you. There's no reason for you to be frightened. Okay, get up and go pee."

"Thank you."

Kathy walked to the bathroom.

"Leave the door open."

"Do you want to watch me pee?"

"Not unless you want me to watch," he said with a smirk.

She raised her skirt to her waist, pulled down her panty, and sat on the toilet while staring at him. He averted his eyes. She wiped herself and when she stood and pulled her panties up, he looked before looking away. It was a brief look but it was enough of a look that he caught a glimpse of her pussy and the side of her ass. Now that she knew he was interested, she knew she had him and could use that weakness against him for her sexual benefit.

She walked back to the bed and casually lifted her skirt higher before reclining back down and spreading her legs. Now, her skirt was even higher than it was before. It made her wet being so exposed to him. 

He tied one ankle.

"Wait."

"What now, lady?"

"I have a cramp."

She raised her leg, bent it, and flexed it. She didn't have a cramp. She just wanted to move her leg around to raise her skirt up even higher. She just wanted to tease him. She just wanted to watch him pretend not to look. She just wanted her pearls back. Now, her skirt was at the top of her thighs and her puffy mound and camel toe beneath her sheer panty was clearly visible to wherever he stood.

He tied her other ankle.

"Please, that's much too tight," she said.

"How's that?"

"Better."

"There, I made them loose enough that if you squirm and wiggle around for ten or fifteen minutes, you'll be free."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He headed for the bedroom door.

"Wait," she said."

"What?"

"Thank you for not taking my wedding ring, but I'd trade you that for my pearls."

"I don't want your ring."

"Why? It's worth much more than my—"

"It's not real?"

"What?" She struggle to try and look at her ring, but her wrists were tied. "Surely, you jest."

"You're ring is a fake. It's a good copy, though and worth a few thousand dollars, but it's not a real diamond."

"How do you know?"

"Lady, if I can't spot a fake diamond with the light on, I'd never make it as a jewel thief in the dark with only my little flashlight."
 
She was crushed. She thought it was real. Surely, her husband could afford ten rings, a hundred rings. Why would he give her a fake?"

He turned to look at her and when he did, clearly he could see all that she had to offer him between her legs. Clearly, he was looking and clearly he could see her panty.

"My pearls."

"I told you lady that your insurance—"

"You can touch me if you leave my pearls."

"Pardon?"

"I said, if you leave me my pearls, you can touch me."

She was as excited for him to touch her as she was desperate for him to leave her pearls behind.

"Lady, if I wanted to touch you, I could. You're tied up. Remember. And I could still keep your pearls."

"Even though you're a burglar, I can see that you're an honorable man."

"How do you know I just won't take advantage of you and still keep your pearls?"

"Because I can read people and I know that there's honor among thieves."

"But you're not a thief, are you?"

"No, not in the way you think, but I have prostituted myself to my husband for the pleasure of his money and in that regard, I'm as much of a criminal as you are. I'm not a thief, but you are and I can see that you are an honorable one."

"Look, lady, you're very beautiful and if I saw you under different circumstances, I'd be interested in starting a relationship. Without doubt, I'd be attracted to you, but I don't mix business with pleasure."

"Kathy."

"Pardon?" He already knew her name. He knew more about her than she thought.

"My name is not lady. It's Kathy."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Kathy. Please forgive my rudeness in my not introducing myself to you. I'm sorry but I'm not interested in a love relationship or a sexual affair. I'm just interested in your money and your jewels."

He turned for the door, again.

"I'll suck you off if you leave me my pearls."

"Pardon?" He turned and looked at her.

She was truly beautiful. She was one in a million. A bit older than he liked them, she was still beautiful enough to fulfill anyone's fantasy of having her as their only other resident on a Pacific Ocean tropical island of paradise.

"I said I'll suck your cock if you leave me my pearls."

He gave her a hard look while taking her all in with a lustful stare.

"Really? You'll suck my cock?"

"Yes."

He gave her another long, lustful stare.

"Have you ever given a real head banging moaning out loud blowjob or is that just something else you read about in one of your crime novels?"

"Yes, I've given a few men the pleasure of oral sex."

"I didn't know you rich bitches got down and dirty and sucked cock. I thought you all just pretended to enjoy screwing your rich husbands once a quarter out of financial duty, when the dividend checks were paid, while he spent his quality time with his mistress."

"We're not all as detached and delusional as you think we are. We know what men want. How do you think we get what we want?"

He gave her another long look that made her think that he was considering the proposition. What did it matter to him, they were just a strand of pearls. Obviously, they meant more than that to her. To her, they were twenty-four years of being faithfully married to a boring man she didn't love and who loved money more than he did her. Still, it bothered her about her ring and she would surely address that with Robert, once this was over.

"Touché," he said looking at her again as if he was considering her proposition. "Nah, you just want me to cum so you can get my DNA. Is that it?"

"No, no, really, I just want my pearls. You can take everything else. The pearls have special meaning to me."

"Why?"

"It's personal."

"I can touch you?"

He looked from her pretty face to her breasts to her panties and to her shapely legs.

"Yes."

"I can undress you?"

"Yes."

"I can fuck and suck you."

"If you'd like and if that's what you want."

"And you'll blow me?"

"Yes."

"I can cum in your mouth?"

"Yes."

"And you'll swallow it all? You won't play any games and drip some of my cum on your clothes for the police to analyze later."

"My clothes? What clothes? You're no Bill Clinton and I'm not Monica Lewinski. You can strip me naked, tear them off my body, and cut off my bra and panty, if you'd like."

"I'd like that."

"Me, too," she said under her breath and too low for him to hear.

"What about your husband? Where is he? I thought you said he'd be here any minute."

"I lied."

"How do I know you're not lying now?"

"How do I know you'll leave me my pearls after you've had your way with me? We just have to trust one another."

"I don't trust anyone, Kathy, especially not you. You'd tell me anything to save your precious pearls."

"He's on his way to the airport for a business trip. I don't remember where this time. He doesn't always tell me since..."

"Since what?"

"Since he cheated on me and since we signed an agreement not to exchange fluids."

"Fluids? You mean cum?"

"Yes."

"Then, what about this? What about me cumming in your mouth? What about you swallowing my cum? Isn't that exchanging fluids?"

"This is different. You're forcing me to do that. You've already tied me up to my bed. Remember? So long as you leave me like this when you go, there's no problem."

"For some reason, I believe you."

In the next chapter Kathy gets her pearls back.