The 5:17 - Sequel
I got a second note in the mail a week later. It was handwritten over a collage of some of the pictures I had posted on line. This note said they were coming for me! Soon!
OMG! Now I was scared! I sank onto a kitchen chair and stared at the note.
This was not good!
I didn’t go to the police with the first note and now it was impossible. If the cops saw these pictures they’d …well I didn’t know what they’d do, but I didn’t want to find out!
So what to do? I had no idea who these crazies were; it was maddening and frightening to be stalked like this!
Gawd, it could be my neighbor or the postman or the guy that walks by here with that damn bark-y dog or it could be anybody! I could go nuts trying to figure out who they were and how they found me out.
I was freaking out, totally frightened and really, really regretting my railroad adventure. What was I thinking? What a dumb ass I was, letting my fetishes get in the way of common sense!
I knew I had to calm down and regain some control of the situation.
I mean I could beat myself up over it or try and move on and at least protect myself! Bloody hell! Protect myself! How?
Would these people actually come after me or are they just fucking with me?
I couldn’t know the answer to that, but, one thing I could do was make sure my house alarm was on at all times.
Another thing was to be cautious and aware when I was out and avoid situations where I would be alone, but I wasn’t going to hide!
This was probably just a sick little game for them and they had no intention of following through. At least I hoped that was the case!
After the second letter, I gingerly checked the daily mail, but there were no other letters from them for a week, then two weeks. I began to think that they had tired of the game. I mean, how many people would actually follow through on threats like that?
After a month of no letter threats, I was sure the worst was over. I knew I was becoming complacent, but I couldn’t help myself. Oh, I kept the alarm on… usually, and I avoided being alone when outside after dark. I locked my car doors and used the locked garage to enter and leave the car.
But generally I slipped back to my previous lifestyle. I walked the dog and did my errands, ate out and went to some of the local hangouts with my friends.
I even began to tie myself up again, but this time I did not post any of the results. No sense poking the sleeping dog!
I’m sure you know where this is going, right?
And you would be totally correct!
One night, a Thursday, I took the train to and from work (I always got a chill when we passed the spot where I had tied myself). I got home at the usual time, ate and did some laundry. About 8-ish, I sat down with a glass of wine to watch some must see TV.
Must see TV turned out to be incredibly dull, so I turned it off.
As I was thinking of getting up to put the dog out on his run for his nightly business and then change and go to bed, I heard a noise in the kitchen.
The dog slept out there, so I thought he was stirring around in anticipation of going out. Jake was a great dog, but no watch dog. He rarely barked at all let alone strangers, preferring to roll over and be patted.
No barking didn’t mean someone wasn’t there, but I wasn’t in that ‘be careful’ mode any more. I got up and walked into the front hall headed for the kitchen, calling out to the dog.
“What’s up, Jakey? Need to go out?”
click on image for
full size in new window
When I turned the corner at the end of the hall I was stunned at the sight of two black-clad figures headed toward me. I froze in place, dropping my glass. The dog started barking then, a little too late!
“Wha…who are you? What are you doing in my house?” Of course, I instinctively knew who they were.
I tried to run back to the panic button on the alarm panel; as I moved toward it I noticed I hadn’t activated the damn thing!
Before I could reach it, they reached me and banged me back against the opposite wall.
click on image for
full size in new window
Amid crunching glass and frantic barking from Jake, they manhandled me back into the living room and onto the floor.
Working as a coordinated team, they quickly tied me at the wrists, elbows and ankles, gagged me with a wad of cloth stuffed into my mouth, which they then secured with a wrap of something around my head.
I was prone on the floor stretched out on my stomach. It was a secure tie; they obviously knew their business.
One of them pressed a foot against my back to keep me in place. From the corner of my eye, I saw the other leave the room. Seconds later, the dog stopped barking; I assumed a treat had bribed him into silence.
The person returned immediately, carrying a black satchel.
They stood together and looked down at me.
I figured that they had to be the ones that had sent me the notes, but I was in no position to ask. I lay still considering my options, which turned out to be few and none.
They both wore black ninja-like masks that covered their heads except for an oval around their eyes. Both of them wore baggy black sweats, black gloves and black running shoes.
One of them had the build and size of a man. The second person, less bulky and a little shorter, seemed to be a woman. I focused on the smaller person and decided that she really was a she.
I felt better at first that one of them was a woman, but after some reflection that small comfort dissipated. She had invaded my house and tied me up; she could be just as dangerous and whacked out as the man.
Neither one spoke or had spoken at all; the silence was ominous.
The woman took a digital camera out of the black bag and began shooting photos of me, taking several shots from various perspectives. I tried to hide my face as she shot, but the man stepped in and held me my head up so she could take some close-ups of my gagged face.
After a few minutes of that, the woman put the camera back into the bag and then stood behind and to the side of the man. She reached around and began to rub his crotch.
Whoa! What was this?
I watched, becoming increasingly agitated, as his penis became erect under her ministrations, its shape visible even through the baggy sweat pants.
I broke into a sweat; were these crazies going to rape me? In all my fretting about the notes, I had never once considered that.
What an idiot! I should have thought that from the start and called the cops.
My head swam as adrenaline flooded my system. I couldn’t get enough air through my nose as I squirmed and bucked on the floor. That made me light-headed and even more panic-y. She slipped her hands under the waistband of his pants and slid the pants down over his hips allowing his erect penis to spring free. Both of them stared hungrily at me.
The woman slipped around to the front and dropped to her knees. From the sounds and the movement of her head, I assumed she was blowing him.
This was so bizarre! The man continued to watch me even as she worked on him.
He pulled away from the woman, his penis slick with her saliva. Without a word from him, she rose and walked to the sofa, shucking her sweat pants as she went. The man, his eyes constantly on me, followed her. She arranged herself on her back and drew her legs up; he entered her!
I was totally terrorized now! I struggled around and managed to get into a sitting position. I wanted to try and get to my feet and hop the hell out of there if I could. His back was to me, but she was staring at me as he bounced her on the couch. I tried to rise, but couldn’t get the leverage. I began to slide towards the hall on my butt. The woman continued to watch me; he continued to screw her!
Just as I reached the hall, she pushed him back and he pulled out. He yanked up his pants; she remained pant-less. The room smelled of sex and my fear!
They crossed over to me. I screamed muffled pleas and curses at them, which they ignored. They picked me up and carried me to the couch. I fought, kicking and twisting!
There was no way he was going to rape me if I could do anything about it!
Again in a coordinated way that made getting free of them impossible, they untied and retied me in a kind of lotus position. I got some comfort from the fact that they retied me, but it was short lived. The woman picked up the camera then and took several more shots. I sat quietly and let her, preferring that to some of the other obvious alternatives.
click on image for full size in new window
She put the camera away and pulled out a small torpedo-shaped vibrator.
I tried to scoot away then, but only managed to tilt to the side on the couch. She knelt on the floor next to me and ripped my pantyhose open. Pushing my panties out of the way, she switched on the vibe and began to touch me with it. I tried to close my legs to stop her assault, but couldn’t given the way my ankles were tied.
She worked on me deliberately in a deft and insistent way as he sat in a nearby chair. He was rubbing himself through the fabric of his pants.
Good lord! What have I gotten myself into? Who were these creeps!
Oddly, though as repulsed as I was by her touch, the insistent vibration of the little torpedo began to get to me.
I had always assumed that a person had to want to be aroused, that unwanted sexual stimulation would be a turnoff.
Maybe it was the situation, or watching these creeps have sex or the man masturbating across the room or maybe it was being all tied up and gagged, but I discovered that my assumption was wrong!
I felt the unmistakable rumble of arousal deep in my gut! And the signal was getting stronger as she zeroed in on my clitoris!
Damn it! Was I as screwed up as these people?
She was good at wielding that little device and to expertly ramp up my arousal. Soon, I was moaning, sighing, jerking, twitching, and craving her touch.
Of course that was when she stopped!
I mmphhf-ed my disappointment!
She walked over to the man and knelt on all fours facing me. He slipped off the chair and entered her again, this time doggy-style. They both watched me as they fucked!
I looked back at them and suddenly got it!
They weren’t here to rape me; they were using me for foreplay, as if they were watching a porno movie.
They were into bondage and tied up gals excited them and a real life tied up gal was way better than a video!
I had a totally bizarre thought!
If they wanted to see a tied up woman struggling I would give it to them!
I increased my struggling and moaning, moving as much as my bonds allowed. I humped my hips and twisted and squirmed. I found that the more I struggled the hornier I got; I was really feeling it!
Their eyes seemed to light up as I struggled; he picked up his rhythm.
I tried to give the best show I could and in the process drove myself to an orgasm.
I heard the unmistakable sounds of climax from them and opened my eyes to see him fall back against the chair. She had dropped her head to the floor. They stayed that way for a minute or so. I lay back thought about what had just happened.
It was totally bizarre, totally, awesomely sexy and perverted as hell! I knew I would be dealing with the ramifications of this for a long time.
They roused themselves, and slowly stood. The woman gathered up her sweats and pulled them on.
I assumed that since the fun was over they would remove their masks and introduce themselves and we’d go from there!
Wrong!
They still did not speak. The woman gathered up stray rope and the vibrator and stuffed them into the bag.
The man came over to the sofa. I reared back from him, fearing what he might do. He grabbed me roughly and tipped me forward. I could smell his and the woman’s musk.
He untied my hands and dropped a pair of scissors onto the cushion. Then, without a backward glance, they left!
I sat for several minutes, listening to the silence and processing what had happened then I began to try to free myself.
With my hands untied, I was able to pick up the scissors and with some effort eventually cut the rope that pinned my arms to my torso. It took time and pulling and twisting, but I managed to do it. I removed the other ropes and the gag.
I went to stand up, but my cramped muscles failed and I toppled back onto the cushions.
I sat back down for another minute or so, working feeling and flexibility back into my muscles, then got up to check on Jake.
He was fine, in his crate, but in need of a bathroom break. I put on all the outside lights and, on high alert, stuck my head outside the rear door to clip him to his run. I shut the door and watched him through the drawn curtains. He did his business and was back in seconds.
I let him in and set the alarm; too little, too late, I know, but I didn’t want another visit from them!
I needed a drink and poured a glass of wine.
It was then that I noticed the index card on the counter. It had a printed phone number and a web address on it. They had obviously left it because it wasn’t there before.
I snatched it up and crumpled it and was about to toss it into the trash when I stopped.
Hmmm! I smoothed it back out! Let’s not be hasty about this!
You can also leave your feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum
06.01.14