The Degradation of Chris
By Ami Lamida
TiedUpTV@Hotmail.com

 

Chapter 1

 

Certain parents just don’t pay attention to what is going on in a child’s life. Often young children and teens, are left completely without guidance after school. Many children come home to an empty house and are alone until parents arrive home from work - which is often two to three hours. In many cases, these children end up wandering the neighborhood with friends looking for trouble. In a few cases, where children do not have friends to hang out with, trouble comes looking for them.

I was one of those few cases. My name is Chris. My parents worked, and all through my middle and high school years, I was left alone every afternoon. At least my parents left me alone, and because of my shyness, and the fact that I was an only child, I didn’t have any real friends for years.

I guess that my solitude must have been noticed by at least a few neighbors. I didn’t know many of my neighbors despite the fact that I lived in a large community of townhouses. Thinking back, there must have been at least a dozen townhouses with a full view of my front door and the gated fence enclosing the patio entrance. I never though much about it before the incident. Despite the proximity of my neighbors, they pretty much ignored everyone else’s comings and goings. I guess it was sort of an unspoken privacy rule.

Every day I would get dropped off at the bus stop about a quarter-mile from my townhouse. I would make the trek through the complex of buildings to my building, where I would reach in my backpack for the key that was permanently attached to a strap so I wouldn’t lose it. I guess my parents cared about me enough to make sure I didn’t get left out in the cold, but sometimes you wouldn’t know it. They were never there.

I understood the need for both of my parents to work. I’d been told many times that we wouldn’t have even as much as we had if one of them quit. I couldn’t imagine having much less. I had to grudgingly accept my after-school seclusion. Neither my parents nor I would have expected what happened to me when I walked in the door to my lonely home one day in March in my tenth-grade year.

Nothing seemed unusual inside the house as I walked through the front door, dropping my backpack next to my tennis shoes as usual. I went straight to the refrigerator to get my usual orange juice, which I would take with me to the comfy recliner in front of the living room TV. I usually lounged and flipped through the channels until just before my parents got home, at which time I would suddenly be busily working on my homework in my room. They must have thought I was the perfect kid, which I suppose is another reason they didn’t worry about leaving me alone all the time.

But I never made it to the refrigerator door that day. As I reached out my hand to grasp the handle, a burly set of hands reached out for me. One hand clamped over my mouth and the other grasped me around the chest and lifted me easily off my feet. The muffled scream I heard must have been mine but I was too shocked and petrified with fright to realize it at the time.

Before I knew it, I was being carried up the stairs to the bedrooms. I barely kept my wits about me enough to struggle, but it was no use. The man who held me was much too strong for me to extract myself, and my arms were pinned to my sides while my legs dangled uselessly behind me.

The man made the turn towards the master bedroom and kicked open the door. He placed me face-down on the bed, letting his mass hold me down. He took his hand off my mouth just long enough to remove some duct tape that had apparently been stuck to his shirt and affix it over my mouth. Then he pulled some rope out of a pocket of his jacket and tied my hands behind my back.

But he didn’t let his weight off me yet. He leaned forward to whisper in my ear, "I’ve been watching you, boy. Normally, I like to watch the high school girls coming home from school, but they aren’t ever alone like you are - and you’re nearly as pretty as any of the girls I’ve seen."

Pretty? Although I was a little scrawny and pasty for my age, I never thought of myself as pretty. But then why should I? I’m a boy. Suddenly I knew this man wasn’t here to rob the place. We really didn’t have much to take in the first place.

"I know your parents won’t be home for a few hours, so don’t get your hopes up. I’ve got plenty of time to do what I have planned and I intend to use it all," he whispered. He lightly kissed me on the cheek. "Aww, but now I’m getting ahead of myself. See, like I said, I’m not into boys. But until I find a young girl who’s alone after school, you’ll you’re gonna have to do."

He roughly rolled me over and I got my first look at his face. His chiseled features were slightly hidden by a few days of beard growth. His dark hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in a few days either. He wore a leather jacket, jeans and a black T-shirt. His eyes were fierce and appraised me like a side of beef. He looked like he could have had his pick of women, but apparently, that wasn’t what he was into.

He pulled out a big hunting knife. My fear suddenly reached a climax, and I wriggled my best to pull myself free. But my legs were effectively pinned, and all I could manage was a squirm. "What – you scared of old Bessy here?? I ain’t gonna use this on you - at least not yet. This is just for convenience."

He extended the blade toward my abdomen. I did my best to suck in my breath for the impending cut, but instead he grabbed the bottom of my shirt and began to slowly slice it down the center to my neck. He pulled the two halves of my shirt open and stoked my chest.

"N-i-i-i-i-ce. Look at that - still hairless. Even better than I had hoped. You’ve got a nice, smooth, milky white chest."

He continued with the knife, ripping my T-shirt to rags and tossing it to the floor. Then he put the knife under my belt and pulled. It cut through my leather belt like butter. He unbuttoned my jeans and pulled both my jeans and my underwear down to my thighs.

"Oh my, but you have a small penis. Things just keep getting better and better. No hair on you anywhere – you’ll definitely make a nice substitute for a little girl."

Gently, he fondled my penis and extracted my testicles from between my pinned legs. He continued to fondle for a few seconds and I found myself getting erect despite my best efforts not to.

"Oh, a horny little devil, huh? Well, I’ll just have to decide whether you get to use that erection you’ve got there. I’m not here to please you, I’m here for myself. And despite what you’re probably thinking right now, I’m not really gay."

Not gay? He could have fooled me. He seemed to enjoy fondling me quite a bit, but maybe the guy was just twisted and didn’t know what he wanted. Or maybe I really did look a lot like a girl. I still had a hard time accepting that idea.

"But that’s not important. We gotta get you out of these clothes." With that, he reached back to my ankles and pulled my jeans all the way off along with my socks. My underwear remained at my thighs, but not for long. He cut them away with the knife and tossed them aside. I was naked as a jay-bird under this man. I suspected I was about to get sexually abused.

But the man wasn’t ready for that yet. He turned me over onto my stomach again, which bent my erect penis at a slightly uncomfortable angle. I squirmed under him to get it straitened out.

"Whoa, there. You ain’t going anywhere." He’d misunderstood my struggling, but it was just as well. "Better make sure you don’t move while I go about my business."

He removed another length of rope from his jacket pocket and tied my ankles together. Then he pulled the remaining rope through my bound wrists and pulled it tight. It was such a tight hog-tie, I could touch my heels with my fingers and I could feel the circulation getting cut off in both my wrists and my ankles.

Then he moved away. I turned my head to follow his movements. He had stopped touching me and was going through my parent’s drawers. Maybe it was going to be a robbery after all. I started feeling slightly relieved. But my relief didn’t last long.

"Let’s see what we got here. Oh, this is nice." He pulled a pretty pair of white lace thong panties from my mom’s underwear drawer. "And this might fit you okay." He pulled out a pair of my mom’s pantyhose that seemed slightly darker than skin color. "And of course, you have to have a bra to cover your pretty little nipples." I got a glimpse of the silky white under-wire bra he held and noticed the tiny pink bow in the middle.

He threw those items on my parent’s bed, then went to the closet. "Wow, your mom has some slinky little outfits. How come I’ve never seen her wearing them? What am I asking you for? Doesn’t matter, this one ought to do just fine for you." He pulled out my mom’s tight-fitting lycra stretch dresses that I’d only seen her wear once. It was short and black with some slight ruffles at the hem and shoulder. It did indeed look like it would fit me just right. It was amazing what my mom could squeeze into when she went out at night.

He threw that on the bed and turned to me. "Get the picture now? You’re gonna have to be my little girl cause I can’t get to anyone else around here. My girlfriend’s okay, but I’ve been craving something younger. And I think you’ll be pretty close, once I get you dolled up."

I couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t just a pervert - he meant to humiliate and degrade me for his own pleasure. Despite my predicament, I twisted my head around, looking for some means of escape, but there wasn’t any. Even if I weren’t bound, he was a strong man, and I was a skinny boy. I wasn’t going anywhere. My only hope was to hold out until my parents got home.

But the man wasted no time. He rolled me roughly onto my side and held the knife to my throat. "Now, I don’t want to kill you. I just wanna have some fun. If you just relax and do what I say, you might have some fun too. But if you don’t do what I say, I’ll kill you. I don’t have time to waste, and I’m not gonna let you waste it. Got it?"

Gulping down the golf ball sized lump in my throat, I nodded slowly. He removed the knife and smiled. "Good. We might just both enjoy this. Now I’m going to untie your ankles. You just lie there like a good little girl, and don’t struggle. If you struggle, I’ll cut you."

I blinked, which he took for an "okay", and he rolled me back and began to untie my ankles from my wrists. When he was finished and my legs were loose, I kept still like he said.

"Excellent. Now let’s make you more presentable." He held up the lace thong panties for me to see. I gulped but stayed still. He began to work them up my legs. I decided I would take him literally and refused to move a muscle to make it easier. It was my only means of defiance at that point. But he didn’t need my help. He was much stronger than me and lifted me easily when he needed to.

He pulled the thong panties firmly into my butt and against my semi-erect penis. It was a queer feeling at first, but slightly exhilarating after a few moments. The panties were smooth and my rising penis slid easily against the material to full erection. The thong pressed between my testicles slightly. I never knew that such a pleasurable sensation was possible.

"Hey, we have a trooper here folks. I do believe you are actually enjoying this." For emphasis, he ran his hand up my panty-clad penis. I trembled slightly and my penis throbbed for a moment.

"But we aren’t finished yet. We can’t have you enjoying yourself too much yet." Then he put the pantyhose carefully over my toes. He worked them up my legs as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Before long, he had worked them up over my waist.

"A bit big, but you’ll grow into them. Get it?" Again, he lightly stroked my penis - and I did seem to grow slightly. The addition of the pantyhose gave his stoke a completely different sensation this time. Slowly, so it would seem innocent, I rubbed my legs together. It actually felt great. Is that why women wear them? What other secrets were women hiding?

But that was the last time I would be able to rub my legs together. "Now, I’ve got to untie your hands to get you into this outfit. So to make sure you don’t go anywhere, I’m going to tie your legs to the bed." He proceeded to adjust my body so I was lying in the center of the bed and pulled a few more lengths of rope out of his coat pocket. Then he took off his coat and tossed it aside as if it contained no more toys.

He tied one length of rope to my left ankle and to the lower left post of the four-post bed. He did the same with my right ankle and the right lower post. I was lying uncomfortably back on my bound wrists, with my legs spread for him to admire. A wave of panic broke over me as I imagined what would happen if he merely left me here for my parents to find. How would I explain my predicament to them? Would they believe an intruder had really done this to me? I had no bruises or cuts to prove I was in this predicament against my will. The thought was horrible. What little love my parents have for me would be lost forever.

But the intruder wasn’t done with me yet. He grabbed my hair and pulled me up into a sitting position. With the knife, he cut the rope at my wrists. "Hate wasting rope like that, but I have more - and plenty of duct tape when I run out of rope. Course, the duct tape can be more painful, but I’d like to save that for some other time."

Some other time? Did this man intend to do this do me repeatedly? The panic in me rose so that I forgot the hopelessness of my situation, and I tried to push him away. It was a stupid thing to do. No sooner did I try to push him than he pinned my hands to my side with a one-armed bear hug, and used the other hand to retrieve the knife from against the small of his back and place it at my throat.

"Now what did I say? Didn’t I say if you struggled I would cut you?" The knife pressed slightly harder against my throat until it felt like if I swallowed the knife would cut out my Adam’s apple. "I ain’t done with you yet, so I can’t kill you. But I’ve got to teach you a lesson. Sorry, sissy-boy."

He ran the knife slowly down to my chest. Then he slashed lightly across the top of my chest just inches above my nipple. It was so quick and light I almost didn’t feel it, but the blood started to run almost instantly, and I knew it was going to hurt later. He let me drop back to the bed and jabbed the point of the knife against my abdomen. "Now see what you made me do. Don’t move till I get back."

Now I was too scared to move. I suspected that this man would eventually kill me. I might be able to untie my legs before he returned, but how far would I get before I felt that knife in between my shoulder blades. My plight was hopeless. I held a hand over the cut and tried to see the spot where I’d been jabbed in my abdomen. The knife hadn’t penetrated there.

He was back in seconds with a cloth from the bathroom. "Hmm," he said, smiling. "You be good like that the rest of the afternoon, and I might just let you live." He pulled my hand away and pressed the cloth to my cut. "Hold that there until I tell you to quit."

Not to be deterred from his task, he grabbed up the silky bra from the bed and began to work it over my free shoulder. He grabbed my other hand and let the cloth slip to the floor while he shoved that hand into the bra strap. "See, it was a clean cut. You’ve already stopped bleeding." It wasn’t really true. I could see the droplets of blood building up at the cut, which was now beginning to sting.

He reached around behind me and fastened the bra. " I need to tie your hands up again so I can do a bit more rummaging." He placed the cloth on top of the cut and let the bra hold it in place. Then he tied my wrists back together with another rope and secured them over my head to a slat on the headboard of the bed. He pulled the rope tight until my arms and legs felt like they were coming out of their sockets. I arched my back slightly, trying to relieve the strain, but it was no use. I was held motionless.

He went back into the adjoining bathroom and I could hear him rummaging through the drawers and cabinet. I had a few minutes to try to grasp the reality of my situation. Despite the strain on my extremities, I’d retained my erection. As I examined my feminine-clad body, I felt strangely detached. I got even more aroused. Perhaps it would be best to make the most of my situation. I hadn’t ever felt like this before and it was likely to be my first sexual experience, though it wasn’t the kind I would have imagined or chosen.

I hadn’t really given thought to sexuality before. I was amazed that I had the capacity. I had only had minor erections before when I saw sexy women on TV, but those were more a source of embarrassment than they were pleasure. Perhaps today I would learn what to do with those erections and not feel guilty about it.

He came back. "Band-Aid’s the only thing I could find. A couple will have to do. Also found where your folks hide their KY jelly. That should help you out a bit, though if you fight me again, I’ve a mind not to use it." He applied the Band-Aid almost lovingly to the cut, then decided to apply a second one. It seemed to do the trick and no more blood came.

Again he untied my hands. This time I didn’t struggle as he slipped the slinky black dress over my body. I did manage to look at the alarm clock beside the bed. Only forty minutes had gone by. It would be at least an hour and a half before either of my parents got home, if they did come home on time, which they often didn’t.

"Very nice. You could almost pass for a girl, but there are a few details we need to take care of. Look what else I found in the bathroom." He held up a makeup kit. I recognized it, having seen my mother use it on occasion. Once again, I was starting to feel humiliated.

"Oh now, don’t look so down. You’re going to be an excellent little slut." He opened the case and took out the lipstick. He ripped the tape off my face. "Red should do for a little slut like you. Purse your lips." I didn’t know what he meant. He suddenly slapped me in the face. It stung like I’d been burned on half my face. "I said, purse your lips." This time he made a little kissing motion with his lips and I was able to imitate him.

"Better. Oh yes, now don’t you look sweet. Let’s try a little bit of this other stuff." He took out a box of powder and opened it. He puzzled for a few seconds, then took out the puff and tapped it on both cheeks. "Hmm… S’okay." He jammed the powder back in the case and pulled out a round, flat black case. He opened that and pulled out a small brush, dabbed it into the red powder and smeared it on each cheek. "Oh, very nice. This ain’t so hard."

Then he pulled out an ugly looking contraption. "I’ve seen my girlfriend use something like this." He held it close to my left eye and I winced and tried to pull away. "I see you’re not going to cooperate. I guess I’m going to have to tie you down again."

He pushed me back down on the bed, but this time he tied my wrists apart to the left and right bedposts. I was now tied spread-eagled in one my mom’s sexiest outfits. He appraised me for a few seconds, then pulled the high hem of the dress down to cover my crotch. "Not yet," he said, though he seemed to purposely brush his hand over my crotch. He returned his attention to my face.

This time, he knelt over my shoulders and cradled my head with his legs. My jaw was jammed in the crotch of his jeans. I noticed for the first time that he seemed to be enjoying himself from the bulge in his own pants. He picked up a roll of duct tape from somewhere on the bed and ripped off some small pieces. I struggled to turn my head as he guided the tape slowly to my left eyelid and fastened it closed.

"No, please," I begged. I did not want to be blinded. It would complete my helplessness. I’d have let him do anything he wanted without me even struggling if only he left me able to see. But he didn’t say a word. He just reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out some panties he must have taken earlier from my mom’s drawer and stuffed it into my mouth. I gagged slightly as it tickled my throat, and before I knew it, my other eyelid was taped shut.

I could not cry out nor could I see what he was doing, but he didn’t change his position. My shoulders were feeling like they were being ripped out of their sockets from his weight on them. But I only felt some light tugging and tickling stokes on my eyelashes. Then a slight poke as something semi-hard brushed across the tops and bottoms of my eyelids. Then a few more pats with what must have been the powder.

The tapes over my eyes were ripped off painfully. My eyes didn’t even have time to readjust before he used his left thumb to hold my eyelids shut again, while he brushed some blue powder onto them. I was nearly in tears from the sting of the tape, but a jerk on my hair let me know I’d better not cry. I sobered up.

"Very nice. You should see yourself. You are no longer a boy. You are a girl, and you will act that way, understand?" For emphasis, he pulled my hair painfully and planted a kiss on my forehead.

He finally climbed off of me. "I still don’t think you’re done. Your hair is too boyish. Your mom doesn’t seem to have any wigs, so what are we going to do about it? Let me think. Be right back." Again I was left alone to ponder my situation. My jaws ached slightly from the panties he had shoved in my mouth. Ignoring the pain, I tried to raise my head to look at myself. Sure enough, from what I could see I was as feminine as any girl.

My penis was getting harder than ever, but I was completely helpless to do anything about it. I couldn’t even manage to wiggle my legs. They were spread apart enough to make my hip joints ache. He had been thorough in making sure I was bound tight. There didn’t seem to be any slack in the rope binding my arms or my legs.

I lay back and awaited my tormentor. The pressure in my groin didn’t ease even slightly during the minutes he was gone. Soon he was back. I turned one eye to the clock again. Still another hour before anyone came home.

"I’m running out of time, so this will have to do." He held a bottle of hair gel, which he squirted liberally into his palm. Then he ran it through my hair and tousled my hair a bit. "Yes, that will do for now. But we will have to take care of that in the future."

He stepped back and appraised his handiwork again. "Mmm… still not quite right. What’s missing…? Oh YEAH…" He turned again to my mother’s underwear drawer and pulled out two pairs of pantyhose. He sat down beside my head and thrust the hose down the dress into each cup of the bra. After fumbling with the shape for a minute or so, he got them where he wanted them.

"There, all done. You are beautiful. You should see yourself. In fact…" He paused, then ran to the bathroom and returned with a long mirror which my mom kept behind the bathroom door. He placed it at the foot of the bed and angled it slightly down. When I looked up, I didn’t recognize myself. Where I had been, a girl now lay helpless. "Oh, but you can’t see the full effect like that. Let me stand you up."

He turned the mirror to the side, untied my wrists and ankles and held me tight in his arms in front of the mirror. "See. Didn’t I tell you you’d make a pretty girl? You’re about as pretty as any girl I’ve seen coming or going around here. But I didn’t come here to admire you. It’s time."

He led me to my parent’s closet and tied my wrists to the closet rod. He pulled another pair of pantyhose from my mom’s underwear drawer and returned. "Just wanna make sure you don’t cry out when I get inside you." He wrapped the hose tightly around my panty-gag and tied it tight. He shoved as much of the crotch in my mouth as he could and I choked. I tried to breathe through my nose, but the panties tickled the back of my throat.

Then he began to run his fingers down my woman-clothed body. "Oh, now don’t you feel nice. Oh yeah." He ran his hands over my improvised breasts and down my torso, where he clenched my crotch tightly till he found my penis. He gave me a few strokes, which gave me my first hint of wetness in those silky panties.

"No, no. Naughty girl. Mustn’t cum yet." He swatted me hard on my butt, which made me cry out into my gag. It came out as, "hmfgh!" Then he ran his hands over my stocking-clad legs, up and down foot to crotch. His hands would linger at my crotch, where he would alternate between feeling my testicles and penis, and grabbing my butt in his strong grip. Then he ran his finger up my butt crack over the pantyhose, and began to pull them down.

At that point I got scared and struggled to turn. But he held me by the shoulder so I faced the other way and swatted my butt again. He didn’t even bother to pull down the thong panties. He paused for a moment for some reason, pulled the panties aside, then I felt his finger resume it’s search in my crack till it came to my anus. Then his other hand found it and I felt a slick wetness on my butt. Without warning, the slick finger darted inside my anus bearing the lubricant with it. Around and around it swirled until I felt stuffed to the gills with lubricant.

Then I felt something soft, but palpably large against my crack. It seemed to twist and turn until it found my anus. With one quick shove, it entered me.

I passed out.

I woke moments later still feeling that huge appendage writhing inside me. I felt so full of this man that I thought he would come out of my mouth if he pushed a little deeper. His penis thrust awkwardly a few times until I was fully lubricated. Each thrust made my head dizzy and soon a cloudy film passed across my eyes. It felt like he was growing, but I became numb and somehow I held onto consciousness.

He held my legs apart with his feet. I didn’t even have the strength to lift them if he hadn’t. His bulky hands ran up and down my torso, pausing occasionally at my crotch and fake boobs. Then one hand found my neck and I thought he was going to strangle me. He wrapped a hand around my neck and kissed it hard. Then he bit me like a vampire. It hurt. I thought he might have drawn blood. But despite these things, the thrusting inside me did not abate.

The world around me became a rhythm. POUND…POUND…POUND…POUND… My breath was ragged, but seemed to keep the beat as well. I had to go with it or the pain would increase. I found myself relaxing somewhat and matching the rhythm of the thrusts.

POUND…POUND…POUND…POUND…

Then the thrusts seem to take on more urgency. The pace quickened. "Oh GOD!" he screamed.

POUND POUND POUND POUND…

Finally it ended. My anus was feeling the heat of the friction. I thought that if he removed himself he would take my insides with him. He put an arm under my arms and closed a hand around my neck and squeezed evenly, and the other hand squeezed tightly on my panty-clad crotch.

Suddenly, I felt a swish of release. There was wetness in my crotch to match the hot, sticky wetness inside myself. I felt inflated like a balloon. I shivered and the wetness increased at my crotch. My mom was not going to be happy about me ruining her clothes like this.

It seemed like eternity passed before my assailant extricated his penis from my butt. It’s removal felt worse than anything he’d done yet, but still I did not faint. Then the hot, sticky liquid dribbled down my leg into the hose.

But I really didn’t care at that point. The man had spent himself and was done with me. Now he could just kill me and my pain would be over. I would be sad to see how my mother would react to me hanging dead in her closet dressed in her clothes, but I’d be dead. I didn’t feel the pain in my shoulders as my knees gave out and I slumped in my bonds.

Many minutes passed in silence. I started to think the man had left the house. But shortly, the burly pair of hands pulled up my pantyhose and pulled down the dress. He untied my hands from the closet rod, though he kept them tied together. I slumped and he carried me back to my parent’s bed. I realized I still wasn’t free and he wasn’t quite done with me. Was there no God?

He slowly, almost gently, tied my hands again to the slats of the headboard. Then he tied my ankles together. But he rolled me onto my side and lay down behind me. He idly played with my face, butt, legs and groin. To my surprise, my penis actually began to grow again.

He kissed me lightly about my neck and face. He even kissed my eyebrows and nose. Then he whispered in my ear, "That was nice. See how nice it can be? You even came like the slut that you are. Now I just have to decide what to do with you."

I tensed slightly, though that’s all I could manage through the fog in my mind. He felt it. "Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn’t want to harm a precious little girly-boy like you. You are magnificent. I just have to decide whether I’ll leave you like this for your mommy and daddy to find, or if I let you go and try to clean yourself up before they get home." From somewhere, I found the strength to panic at the thought of being caught like this, though all I could do is squirm.

He looked over his shoulder at the alarm clock. "Well, you do have about twenty minutes before they get home. Perhaps I should let you keep our little secret to yourself for now. I doubt your parents would believe that some stranger walked in here and dressed you up in your mommy’s clothes. Granted, they might believe that a stranger tied you up, but they’ll still believe you were willing. Besides, I know where you live…"

I knew he was right about my parents. They would never believe I was forced to dress in my mom’s clothes or that the makeup was forced onto my face. Even bound as I was, they wouldn’t believe my story. They would probably punish me, and possibly throw me out of the house for being a freak. I didn’t think they loved me enough to believe me.

The man gave me one final kiss on the cheek and cut the rope that bound my hands to the headboard. "Untie yourself and clean yourself up. I’ll see you soon." He grabbed his jacket and left.

It was a few minutes before I came to my senses. Tears came to my eyes and I sobbed into the panties bound in my throat. I was humiliated, confused, and exhausted. Something tugged at my brain, and I blocked it out. It tugged harder, and through my tears, the words came back to me, "You have about twenty minutes…" My parents would never understand.

I shook my head clear. The man hadn’t untied my hands, just released them from the headboard. I fumbled with the bonds at my ankles, but my hands were too numb to undo them. I wriggled to the edge of the bed and put my feet to the floor.

He hadn’t left his knife either. I pulled myself up to the bedpost and hopped into the bathroom. I had to search franticly for something to cut my bonds with. All I could find was some nail clippers.

Summoning all my patience, I snipped away at the rope. It took a few minutes to cut through them, but it seemed like eternity.

Finally, I was free. I looked in the mirror, and I was still dressed in the slinky black dress, the hose, the underwear and I still had makeup on, though it had streaked due to my tears. The clothes would have to be cleaned - no time for that. Hopefully, my mom wouldn’t notice them missing until I’d sneaked them into the wash.

I quickly removed the hose-and-panty gag, undressed, and put away all the clothes that weren’t ruined, which wasn’t much. The rest I threw in my room under the bed.

I looked at the clock - ten minutes.

Back in my parent’s room, I found that several lengths of rope remained tied to the bed and I had to cut them off. I retrieved my Boy Scout knife from my room and hacked them off. I remade the bed and went into the bathroom to find something to get the makeup off.

I tried several things, scrubbing my face nearly raw trying to get the makeup completely off. The eye makeup was the hardest, but I finally managed to get it all off. I checked the time again.

Times up! My parents usually got home by now. Franticly, I looked about the room. There was some duct tape still on the floor, which I snapped up and threw to my room. Then I realized there were a couple of white puddles on the bedspread. I snatched up the cloth that had been used to stop my bleeding, quickly glancing at my breast and seeing that the Band-Aids still held back the blood. I ran to the bathroom, wet the cloth, and wiped up the cum spots that littered the room.

As I cleaned up the last cum puddle, I heard a key in the front door. Realizing I was still naked, I leapt for my room, just as I thought I heard the door opening. I quickly, but quietly shut and locked my door, and listened to footsteps ascending the stairway.

The knock on my door startled me and I almost fell down. "Are you alright in there dear?" I heard my mom’s voice call. "Yes mom, just changing clothes. I’ll be out after I finish my homework," I lied.

"Okay, honey. Dinner in twenty minutes, okay?"

"Okay mom," I replied.

Thankfully, the footsteps retreated back down the stairs.

As I nervously tried to finish cleaning myself up and put on clean clothes, I heard, "Chris honey? Did you leave the patio door open? You know that’s not safe."

I knew.

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Ami Lamida. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.