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Caution! This Story contains depictions of sexual violence! If this type of subject
matter makes you uncomfortable, please cease reading this piece immediately!

Was It Violence or...Just My Pleasure?

by CKing
© March 1999

I had my earphones on and was just lying on a towel behind the hedgerow at our apartment complex. Unusually sunny for this only second day into Spring. I liked daydreaming. It had been a long time since Dawn and I broke up so I think I enjoyed my daydream time even more. The sun was warm and bright. It made me think of her lifting my dress against a tree behind the park shelter at my company picnic last year. Just to press against me. Wet and throbbing. Then skipping back away from me. She had teased me throughout that “had to attend” function, only to make me wiggle and want to touch her in front of all that I worked for but didn't want to shock.

I clicked back to the music and erased that thought. Pulling up the towel edges I turned over. My earphones pulled momentarily away from my ears. Voices were there. I stopped to listen before replacing my muffs.

It was the couple from two floors above. Sitting on the bench on the other side of the hedgerow. They obviously had no idea that I was laid out sunning just on the other side and within ear shot.

I’d guess they were each 33 or 34, no kids yet but the typical yuppie couple. She was gorgeous and he was upwardly mobile handsome. My jaw dropped at their topic of discussion. I listened.

He was saying that they would have to talk about it when he returned from his trip. She was saying that she “just needed to feel it”...she said, “But I think this is just curiosity, and I love you so much I don't want what I am feeling to hurt you.” He responded, “So maybe we can find one together, a nice lesbian or something and let her be with us and you can see what you think.”

Oh, my, this was great dipping, I thought, the term flying into my head from what my Grandfather referred to for eavesdropping. I laid quiet and still and just listened.

“You know I thought about it when Mary and Susan were so drunk and over here, just teasing me. But I don't know why I'm so curious...” she lamented.

“Listen, I think everyone thinks about it. My biggest fantasy is to hold you and another woman and us both be OK with it. We'll talk about it when I get back. Come on, let's go in and start dinner, I'll be gone for a week and its an early flight,” he said persuasively.

Her silence caught me. They walked back towards the building.

I laid there and thought about her wanting a woman. Married. Her thoughts to just touch another. My wetness was overwhelming. She was cute as shit.

My mind started to wander. To think of having her. The picture of her naked in bed, my lips lusciously licking at her cunt sucking her juices. Her hands playing in my hair, pushing my head harder into her. My mind wandered.

I must have laid there for another hour. It was getting dark. That night as I went to bed my mind was still on her. Thinking of him leaving her, alone. Her wanting to be with a woman. I was letting myself feel responsible for her intro. I wanted her to like it. Feel all of it. And my own sexual heat was not helping to satisfy everything I had been lacking these last several months and to have some wild sexual blowout, I thought would be just what I needed.

My mind began calculating. I started thinking of ways to meet her. Be there while he was gone. The reality of it was that he would still return. I was not giving up my apartment, my sacred ground for a whim with a married woman. I’d have to look at him in the elevator and I wasn't going there. As I turned my head on my pillow, I calculated further.

If I was wearing a mask, she wouldn't know me. And then I planned it. In my mind I planned every last detail. Getting in, staying unknown, touching her and it being a stranger. I planned every second of what I could do with her once I had her where I needed her.

The next morning I think I was relieved that sleep had cut me off. Made me stop. As I brushed my teeth and then went out the door to work, I thought that by now he had left. She would work as usual and then be home. My hands were sweaty gripping the steering wheel as I drove into work. I had planned a mugging. A well thought out and probably workable mugging.

All day I wrestled with myself. How could I think such things? How could I think such things actually through? And I still wanted her. Even found myself justifying. Because of what I wanted, because of what I thought she needed, because, because, because.

Driving into the complex the same as I did each week, her car stuck out to me this time just sitting in the same place it always had been I guess. I had lived there for several years and looking at it now from someone else's perspective, I was just a nice girl that worked in an office, kept to myself, was a good quiet neighbor, said hello to those who came across me and jogged sometimes regularly if the weather was decent. No one knew my thoughts; however, or what I could be capable of. Not even me.

I spent my evening thinking more and more about the neighbor so closeby, just a floor away. My thoughts got more racier as the bourbon kicked in more and more. What was she thinking? What would she do? The details of my plan changing some, each time I went through it in my mind. Yes, going through it. Fine tuning more details, adding this or that. But still thinking it could be a plan.

My stomach was sick. Perhaps the bourbon, perhaps the thoughts I had had. Sleep was tossing and turning.

The sun came up and as I got ready for work I actually decided not to think of it again. Get real. Stay safe. The doors of the elevator opened and she was there. “Hey,” I mumbled, turning my back to her as I pressed the ‘close door’ button, twice. I felt her eyes at my back. Was she able to read minds? I tried to blank out my head. The doors of the elevator opened and as we both went towards our cars, “Have a nice day,” was heard cheerfully in my direction. Reaching my car's door handle, I turned and our eyes clicked in for just a second. “You too,” was all I said, with a half smile, my own thoughts smacking me, as she bounced on into her car. Her hair glistening, her long legs shimmering in her hose slightly with the morning sun.

I didn't work much all morning. By lunch I was faking a headache and was on my way home by two. I poured a stiff drink and took it right down. The next one I poured sat in front of me on the table. I stared at it as I let the evil in my head win, while I let the desires in my aching cunt pain me for relief. With a smugness that would have sickened me any other day, I agreed with myself that I was going to do it anyway. It was now like a job. I got up. Shot back that second drink and started preparing.

Like a programmed robot, I began to gather all the things on my checklist in my head. The handcuffs, real ones from last year's Halloween costume, went down to start the pile on my bed first. Then the old ski mask of my brothers that he'd left several years back after a weekend visiting to ski. Duct tape. A flash light. I started to head back to the kitchen for another drink then stopped myself a little. I didn't want this to be done drunk, I needed this to be done right. Getting an old sheet from the hall linen closet, my hands felt unusually strong as I ripped it into several long 6 inch wide strips. I threw what was left into the trashcan. Looking down at the scrap, I saw my need to be more careful. I pulled the scrap back out and put it into a brown bag. I placed the bag into the trash compactor and pressed the button.

As I gathered my tools together, my thoughts flashed ahead. Her naked on the bed. My fingers inside her. Her lips kissing me back. Yes, wanting me not to stop. I pulled off my clothes to change. I practiced concealing my voice. “Don’t be afraid.” I stated out loud in my lowest most gravely half whisper. “Don’t scream. I don't want to hurt you,” I said out loud, not really thinking of the words, as I found my dark loose jogging suit and slipped my 5’7” 120 lb. frame into them. Funny. It felt different in my pants without my underwear. Breezy. Burning.

I walked to my desk and pulled the top drawer open. Reaching for the cold steel of the silver mini revolver, a fly on my wall would have seen me stop and hold it. Touching it. Feeling the icy metal against my warm fingers. The fly wanting to know what I thought in that moment holding that gun in that pause with it in my hands held silently against my chest.

It was a lighter I had gotten as a gag gift one year for Christmas but I had immediately thought of it when I had thought of her. At least I would always know it really was never a real gun. Perhaps one day she would know that too. Or maybe afterwards she would realize it anyway and think that the metal against her head was anything but a real gun.

I continued to prepare. Play by play continuing in my head. The time was closer, the night was coming on.

I took one more shot of bourbon. “What if she cries,” I thought, gritting my teeth from the sting of the shot. “I’ll ignore it until she understands I won't hurt her. Until it feels good,” I snapped back concisely.

For a second I started to ask myself, “what am I doing” but right away I knew this was perfect, “just what she needed, I could do it, mmmmmm, it was OK.” My own voice so strong in my head as I felt the warm bourbon making my nipples hard and heat grow between my legs.

I checked the clock again as I put the plastic advertisement card in my back pocket. I had already used that card three times to get into my own apartment. Our doors were all the same and I had added a small pair of clippers in case she had a chain.

I packed the rest of my gear into a small dark blue daypack. I placed the pack on my kitchen table, the lighter poised on its side beside the bag. I then turned the TV channels around and around as I watched the clock trying to rest my spinning head.

The clock clicked 1:00 am. My hands were sweating. My heart was pumping faster as I turned off my t.v. I breathed in and out long and slowly as I stepped to the table where my tools had been carefully set.

I didn't lock my door behind me. My hallway was quiet as I punched the elevator button. I saw no one as I went up to her floor. The automatic functioning of my body, of my movements brushed to my fore brain in a glance as the elevator moved. The thoughts on my own automatic functioning ending as the doors opened and I scanned into her hall back into the plan.

By myself, outside her door, I thought only once, “this is it”...and I breathed hard. My heart racing. Pulling the card from my back pocket, no sound, the door was opening. There was no chain. I was relieved. I slipped in and embraced the silence.

I was on automatic. It shocked me. But all I could think of now was touching her. Alone in her bed. Touching her.

I opened my duffel and had it ready. I had thought of this point way too much. I crept up the hall towards her room. In the moonlight I stood silently watching her sleep. Her own clock ticking just after 1:10 am, my own breathing seemed too loud.


With the duck tape in my hand and one of the sheet scraps entwined in my fingers, I stood beside her bed. Gathering my strength, I had the cold lighter revolver in my other hand and bent down to her. Pressing it against her head and at the same time placing the sheet scrape over her eyes, I whispered strongly, “Don’t move, don't scream, I don't want to shoot you.”

She laid there, half dazed but absorbing my words and she did not move. I worked the open strip of duct tape onto her mouth, laying the roll against her face as I used my hands to clip her one hand with the handcuff to the corner of the bed. I think the metal against her skin made her hesitate to anything other than what I instructed. I tied the clothe strip around her head over her eyes.

She bucked up. I said again, “Don’t move, I don't want to shoot you,” most angrily and gravely as I could. I tied her other hand down and then her legs to the bed posts.

Looking at her pitifully bound and taped, I felt like an Amazon. I was breathing heavily but just looking at her. Her leg slightly turned right as if to try to cover herself. I suddenly felt the wanting again and let the automatic take over.

Knowing that we were all alone until I thought otherwise, the silence in the room confirming my endeavor, I peeled off all my clothes.

I saw that she was scared. I saw the tears pouring out from under her wrap. I saw the goose bumps on her skin. She didn't know this was OK yet.

I knelt beside her naked and whispered with my disguised voice, “I know you will like this. I don't want to hurt you, only make you enjoy it as much as I need it.”

I noted her body relax just a bit in wonder.

I slowly lifted her short cropped nightgown, just to her neck exposing her luscious round breasts and dark erect nipples. She gasped at my touch, strongly, through her nose. I watched her in the moon light. I think she sensed this was different but it was still scaring her so.

I started to pull at her underwear. She wreathed in frustration, danger. I said sternly don't fight me.”

She laid back in servitude. I had to undo one of her legs to slip off her panties. As I tied it back I couldn't keep my hands from running one softly down the length of her shaven leg. I think my gentleness surprised her. She didn't kick at me.

I know we are always taught, don't fight the aggressor. See where it is going but don't struggle to your death if you can't get away. I tried for a glimpse to put myself in her place. Tied. Totally at my bay. She did not struggle so. Out of fear and not wanting to be hurt? Or did it feel exciting? She was still tied tightly, blind and gagged.

I looked at her naked body before me. I felt the wetness drip down my own leg. All I had thought for so many days. Picturing her nakedness, the burning inside me to touch her. And now looking at her, smelling her body's scent, my mouth watered. I sat myself down on the bed beside her. My thigh lightly against hers on the bed.

I felt her pull away. Still scared, naked, shuddering. Slowly I began to caress her stomach. Light kisses, erotic kisses against her bare flesh. Laying beside her, my breasts now resting on her side as I faced her, I felt the inquiry in her body. “What was this that was happening.”

I gently traced my finger around her belly button. I wanted it to be soft. I felt her moan under her tape. It was soft and sensual. I think I confused her.

Gently I traced my hand down. My own fire burning. My own drip penetrating down to the insides of my legs. With little circles of my gentle hand I played into her bush. Touching lightly on her pubic hairs, slightly spreading her cunt lips, I touched lightly around her clit. Her legs pulled up in intrusion. Touching lower around her opening I found her wet and her juices flowing. I smiled to myself that the touch could not prevent her own body's reaction.

Melting my finger on around her opening, I played in her wetness. Light gentle circles, delicate touches around her edges. Her taught legs loosened and her knees relaxed some at my strokes. I believe she could feel my taut nipples against her stomach. She moaned slightly beneath her tape.

Her wetness was exciting me so. Making me loose my sense of direction, purpose. I inserted a finger into her hot box. Feeling her muscles first try to repel me then take me in, I stroked into her gently, with desire on my fingertips.

Her moans were more pronounced. Her body was aching beneath my touch. Her back began to arch up as my melody inside her drew her closer to peak. Stroking her, my own body was resounding. Pumping into her, my own legs pressed and rocking into her thigh, my fingers played her. Lost for that moment I felt her body come, shake intensely with orgasm, the limpness throughout beneath my wet fingers. I paused triumphantly, feeling her very muscles contract and respond and flush full with such heat, the pouring of juices from all of her insides in her climax.

My hand still in her, she laid still, trying to control her breathing. Trying to speak to me quietly beneath her muffle.

Crawling on up to her I whispered, “I just wanted you to feel that. To know it. I don't want to hurt you, only let you feel pleasure.” We laid quiet for many moments.

Still trying to conceal my voice, I said, “I want to kiss you but I don't want you to scream out. Don't make me shoot you.” Her moan was almost sweet. Almost understanding. I pulled the tape from her mouth. “Ouche..mm” she said as she rubbed her freed mouth against her left tied shoulder.

With my hand I lightly pulled her chin back around and kissed into her softly. Her taste was exquisite, her lips full and warm and wet. I melted into her.

She held her lips taut for what seemed like minutes until I felt them relax at my tenderness and take me on into her. I felt passion and heat, warmth and desire all at once so I thought. She kissed me back now and tongued into me. She was analyzing, discovering, she now knew I was woman and she was exploring my features. Her intelligence intrigued me.

“Don’t say a word,” I finally spoke, “You cannot know me or speak this, I'm not even kidding.” I pressed my hands on up hers, laying now directly on her and kissed her hard on the mouth. I sensed her awareness that I was scared too. But serious. She didn't call out.

On top of her now, her lithe body beneath me, I became absorbed in my need. Wriggling, moving, I pressed into her. My breast bobbing gently against her own firm mounds. Kissing her I needed her hand inside me. Reaching up to her left hand I untied the sheet strap while I continued to kiss her. Pulling it down towards my side she didn't fight me. I curled her hand into my hot burning box, as I laid to one side of her, still atop her naked twisting body.

She felt my heat, my oozing wet desire. Her fingers flowed into me without much coaxing I thought, as she began to stroke into me with my own fingers pushing along and against hers. My body convulsed and quivered, her body twisting beneath mine in rhythm with her strokes. I felt her feeling me. Still her other arm tied and her legs, she pressed in and encircled me in a sort of embrace. I was moaning and rocking. Her strokes into me went deeper and wetter as all the orgasms of my dreams came rushing through my body for real.

I came with intensity, a scream out and a trembling. She felt me come. Her hand staying in me even though mine had fallen away. I collapsed down on her and remained still. Her hand still in me. I'm sure she felt my insides quiver. I'm sure she felt my body tremor. I'm sure she felt the rush of my juices flowing warmly around her fingers. I laid still upon her.

As she lay there with me atop her, the quiet suddenly being there so strongly, our nakedness in the dark room, she spoke. “Who are you? Why me for this?” she said so questioning, the fear gone, and yet still in a whisper.

I breathed in fully. I tried to gather my wits. “You needed this as much as I did,” I said matter-of-factly, “I had to take you before you did it with someone that wouldn't be soft, really want it.”

She was silent. I didn't move. We just sort of laid there still.

“I still can't let you know me,” I continued quietly. “For your situation as well as my own. I didn't mean for you to be scared or even wonder. I just wanted you to feel how good a woman touching you can be. For you to feel my orgasm from inside me and for me to feel you no matter what,” I said, my own justifications ringing in my words. I kissed into her and muffled any response to that. Her lips were still luscious and wet. Her body pressed up into me some so I imagined.

“You’re very sexy and your body melted me,” I confided. She made a deep sigh. As I kissed her I put my hand back into her. She was so wet and calling. I stroked her just a few times. Her body started to rise and fall with my touch on into my hand. This time she seemed to ride my hand making my fingers drive in deeper. My eyes watching her nipples tighten, her mouth open and panting out soft moans.

Her muscles felt different. More relaxed, as I felt her climax build. She let my strokes move her. Her hot come between my fingers. I was fixed on her whole naked body moving before me. Staring as her neck muscles tightening and her head pressing back. Her moans more pronounced as she reached her peak. I watched as she came, her body quivering, resounding in orgasm around my hand. I smiled as I looked at her stretched out and tremoring naked body.

I withdrew my hand and pulled up and away from her. Silently she laid there as she listened to me dress. She made no move to pull the blindfold from her face. She made no move to untie her other bonds. No words were spoken.

Scanning quickly for all my spilt out accessories and gathering them, I then looked again intently at her naked body still and quiet. “I knew you wanted to know. I wanted you to feel it intensely and like it. I didn't know how to do it without just taking you,” I said, leaning to kiss her. She let me. She kissed quietly and hesitantly back into me. I still felt her fear, but I also felt her calm.

With a last look back to her I quietly left.

Pulling the door closed behind me in my own apartment. I sighed a deep sigh. Leaning back against my wall I felt the orgasm of hers on my fingers. I felt the orgasm of mine and my knees were once again a little weak.

I poured a shot of bourbon and took it down. My mind suddenly reeling, I pictured her untying herself in her nakedness. Thinking about what had happened. I listened for police cars.

Turning on the t.v. after putting my bag away, I sat hard into my couch. My body was still tingling and I still felt her nakedness against me. I had a million bombarding thoughts of the ecstasy as well as the now fear of what was next. I listened for police cars.

They didn't come. I watched and watched. Pictured and pictured what she would do, and no one came. In the late morning hours I made myself curl into my bed. The sheets were cool against my spent body and I fell fast asleep.

Arising the next morning, my paranoia resumed. I listened again for police cars to no avail. So tired yet almost gleeful, I showered and got ready for work.

Like being on automatic, I made my coffee in silence and did my usual work morning rituals.

I punched the number for the elevator and as on most every morning, glided into my usual spot near the buttons. She was behind me again. I felt my whole body burn. My palms sweating, my face probably distinctively red. “Don’t lose it now”, I thought to myself.

The doors opened at the ground floor. Leaving the elevator, she said, “have a good day, too,” Almost slyly I thought. I turned to her, my eyes meeting on into hers. The ‘too’ getting to me. “Always,” I said back with a smile and our eyes were together acknowledging but then again maybe not.

I watched her get into her car. Her hair shimmering and her hose glistening slightly in the morning sun. Like any other day.

I smiled and sank back safely into the seat of my car. She would have to explain the rest to herself. Her husband if she dared. But live with the feelings she had felt. They were good. They were intense. There was no mistaking that. And I did it still, had her and was a little at peace and free for actually taking her beautiful body in the way I did. I did come. A lot. I drove on into work thinking of it all.

Through the morning as I did my job routines, I had played over all of it again and again. Right down to my outfit, the tape, her persistent blindfold. By midday, I was still reeling from my night. I started to choke. Pictured her tied but yet still coming. Her tears at first, her trembling body and then her lips. I became sick with the replay. I walked into the restroom. Looking at my face in the mirror, I was sickened by my own look. Hugging the commode and throwing up violently I wondered how it was for her. Was it worth this invasion. I hugged tighter to the bowl as I puked my own soul out. She was too sweet to have taken her that way. I still pictured her body wet and kissing me back. My body racked and I tried to compose myself back into my day.


Nothing was ever said. No police came to interview the building.

Some months later I heard he had moved out. Six months later I saw a dark green pickup truck with a rainbow sticker in the rear window being packed with furniture. She was carrying out a table with a tall, short haired blonde woman. Her eyes met mine as I got out of the car and walked in towards the building. “See ya around,” she called over to me with a deep broad smile. “Yeah, my name's Cathy! See ya!,” I smiled back into her eyes. I would think that she knew it was me, perhaps not there was never acknowledgment.

I believe I was thanked and forgiven all in that moment.
I still had to live with myself.